Prologue: Timberwolf One

"I saw her death in my dreams, many times. It was the nightmare I'd never forget."

A flash of bright pink streaked across the sky. Adjusting its path as if guided by magic, it quickly closed in on a lone bird-like silhouette. Its prey realized too late that it had been spotted. The shadow banked and dove in an desperate attempt to escape its pursuer. A terrible roar burst from the hunter, sending brilliant purple-pink tracers flashing through the gap between. In an instant, the hunted was skewered with spears of burning aether, sending it plummeting from the sky.

As its prey fell, the pink streak slowed, resolving itself into the airborne form of a single pegasus. The pink came from her coat, its color barely showing through the ash and dust that stained portions of it grey and black. Her azure mane barely peeked out from beneath a flier's cap, her eyes obscured by darkened flight goggles. Her tail was of the same color, ashy streaks of grey shimmering in it as it streamed out behind her in the wind.

"I wanted to be a hero. Not for fame, not for fortune, but that through my deeds I might someday atone for what I’d done."

All around her was chaos. Bursts of flak left black pockmarks in the midst of the raging sky. Forked lightning arced between storm barrier clouds. Machine gun tracers and aetheric repeater fire left ghostly streaks in the air and the aether. With a swipe of her fetlock, Firefly wiped the sweat and grime from her muzzle. The thick smell of ozone and burned propellant wormed its way into everything; her coat, her mane, her skin, her bones.

"Victory confirmed. Good kill, Timberwolf One."

The airwaves simmered with activity. Airborne radar and communication vessels calling targets and directing their flights, squadron leaders calling kills and casualties, the occasional fragment from high command shifting the currents of battle — all flowed together in a symphony of warfare around her. Were she not on task, Firefly would have been content to relax on a nearby cloud and drink in the sights and sounds of the maelstrom around her. To most, this was hell. To Firefly, this was nirvana.

"Storm Warden, this is Tyrant's Bane, we've taken damage and our deck guns are offline. Requesting combat flier cover as we withdraw."

"Understood, Tyrant's Bane. Timberwolf flight, new tasking," a voice crackled in her earpiece. "You're to cover the Tyrant's Bane as she falls back. Alter your heading to zero-two-three and look for hostiles at angels seven."

"Roger that, Storm Warden," Firefly answered, tipping her wings to come about on the new compass heading. "Timberwolf ascending to seven thousand meters and vectoring for intercept."

The background chatter of Storm Warden brought comfort to Firefly. Despite the fact that the pegasus could not see radar beams or hear the fleet radios directly, the ARC ships could always be counted upon to keep them in the loop. Knowledge was power and Firefly aimed to keep the upper hoof.

"Manticore flight, I need you to backstop Timberwolf's advance. Alter heading to one-one-eight and descend to ten angels. Close the line and hold the perimeter until reinforcements arrive."

"Copy that, Storm Warden, Manticore is on the move."

"All Timberwolf elements, form up on me!" Firefly broadcasted.

Appearing on command, the three other members of Timberwolf squadron ascended, linking up in formation with Firefly in the lead. The flight of pegasi floated above the flak while carefully scanning the skies below. Just above the last set of storm barriers off the bow of the Tyrant's Bane, Firefly could make out black shapes against the backdrop of clouds.

"There's the Bane!" the declaration from her wingpony confirmed Firefly's observation. "Tyrant's Bane, this is Wolf Two. Be advised, bandits closing in from your one o'clock, high. Clear your decks! Timberwolf is rolling in guns hot!"

Powder Blue's voice came through the airwaves, its authoritative edge cutting through the background din. Her coat the color of her namesake dirtied by gunsmoke and her navy blue tail streaming out behind her like a mighty battle standard, the pegasus mare formed up on Firefly's starboard wing and gave her a confident grin. Firefly smiled back. Gone was the shy, bookish classmate she once knew. That filly had been replaced by the proud, capable officer that flew beside her today.

"Roger that, Timberwolf. Thanks for the assist."

"You ready, Powder?" Firefly said.

"Ready as I'm going to be," the other pegasus quipped.

"Just like at OCS!"

Firefly found herself saying that a lot, especially around Powder. What began as a way to pep talk the younger mare into shape for their first deployment turned into a running joke as the war had progressed. Combat was nothing like officer candidate school. But it helped to keep morale high and the two wingmares focused, so it had persisted through the fires of battle.

"Timberwolves, you are weapons free!" Firefly barked. "Close in and light 'em up!"

A chorus of affirmatives crackled over the airwaves. Tapping another switch on her combat harness, Firefly heard a high-pitched whine as her aetheric repeater spooled back up. The familiar crosshairs and notched circle of her gunsights flickered to life in her field of view, projected onto her goggles by bits of glowing magical artifice. Over the years, Firefly had gotten to know her repeater well. Despite her preference for hoof to hoof combat, she was willing to take any advantage she could get. A gun that spewed charged aether faster than she could blink helped immensely.

"Timberwolf, this is Storm Warden. Be advised, you have additional bandits inbound. Keep an eye out for attackers from above!"

"Understood, Storm Warden," Firefly growled. This complicated matters. But there wasn't time to regroup and re-plan. The Bane needed them! Looking up and looking down, Firefly keyed her radio again.

"Wolf Three and Four, I need you to take out that assault team. Two and I will handle the escorts."

The other two pegasi waved in acknowledgement and peeled off from the formation to attack. Firefly and Powder continued their ascent, flapping hard to gain altitude. As they closed, the two birdlike silhouettes above banked in unison, folding their wings as they went into a sharp stoop. Unfazed, Firefly spun left, slipping between the two griffons as they dove. Powder mirrored Firefly's maneuver, deftly avoiding a midair collision.

"Powder, take the one on the left, I'll take the one on the right!" Firefly ordered.

"I'm on it!" Powder banked hard and peeled left, diving after her target.

The radio chatter and sounds of battle faded away as she hit the apex of her climb. Firefly grinned. The hunt was on! Flaring her wings sharply and kicking her hind legs and tail out behind her, Firefly whipped herself into a tight J-turn. Her muzzle and gun now pointed in the right direction, she tucked her wings and dove. Though the target juked and weaved, Firefly kept him firmly in the orange circle of her reflector gunsight. With a flick of her hoof, the gun sang, its dissonant aria a raucous, grating buzz akin to tearing canvas. A gout of arcane radiance issued from its muzzle as a stream of ghostly violet lances streaked after their target.

The defender glanced quickly over his shoulder at the oncoming barrage and snaprolled to his left, narrowly avoiding the first burst. Firefly flared her wings hard to dump speed and stay with her quarry. The griffon countered by yawing into a wide spiral, spinning into a barrel roll in an attempt to force Firefly to overshoot. Around and around, the two circled, each trying to force the other into defending; pony to griffon, warrior to warrior. Finally, the griffon gave in. He banked and attempted to pull out of his spiralling dive lest he blunder into the flak below.

With keen eye and steady hoof, Firefly calmly sighted in and squeezed the trigger. Her gun sang again at her command. Firefly guided the magical torrent with practiced precision, walking her rounds up the target's back and wing. The glowing violet lances punctured uniform and flesh, eliciting a shriek of anguish from the griffon as he crumpled into a limp mass of cauterized sinew and smoldering feathers. Firefly leveled off and paused just long enough to confirm her victory.

"Timberwolf One, bandit splashed!" she radioed.

An aileron roll was customary for fliers after an aerial victory and Firefly quickly found herself indulging. As she righted herself, however, a flash of light in her peripheral vision caught her eye. Firefly snapped her muzzle right and gasped. A quick flick of her pinions stood her up on her right wing.

POP POP POP POP POP POP POP.

Firefly gritted her teeth as a stream of green tracers sliced through the air mere meters from her head. Shockwaves from the passing supersonic bullets assaulted her ears. The acrid odor of superheated metal salts clawed at her nostrils. Being shot at was unnerving for anypony; doubly so for one so attuned to the air as a pegasus. Zeroing in on the origin of the attack, Firefly slewed her gun on target and retaliated in kind.

A burst of repeater fire found its mark on the darkened silhouette of the rapidly approaching figure. Its surface sparked and flashed briefly as charged aether splashed against it. Firefly mouthed a curse and slipped left, edging by the new assailant after their head-on engagement. She snuck a quick glimpse of her adversary in passing.

The form was distinctly griffonoid, but much bulkier. A beaked helm covered its entire face. Segmented armor plating snaked down its neck, meeting a full metal breast plate in front and a spine guard on its back. Metal plating on its front legs and reinforced gauntlets on its talons completed the protected facade. In stark contrast to the khaki tunics and gunmetal grey breastplates and helmets of standard Aquellian infantry, this flier's armor was painted solid black, polished to a mirror sheen and trimmed with gold filligree. These were the marks of an elite. Even at a glance, it was immediately apparent that repeater fire would have little effect on the armored monstrosity. Firefly's ear twitched as recognition set in.

"Timberwolf, be advised, two more bandits inbound on your position," Storm Warden radioed, "Both Ironclads!"

"Tell me something I don't know!" she snapped. "Powder, heads up, you've got an Ironclad headed your way!"

"Going to need a little help here! This guy's not going down easy and I'm taking MG fire from range!"

"Wolf Three, Wolf Four!" Firefly keyed her radio. "I need you to help Wolf Two with an Ironclad! Storm Warden, get them a vector!"

"Negative, Wolf One!" the radio signal was pocked with the rattle of machine gun fire, but her squadmate's pronouncement was clear. "We're still engaged in close fighting over the Tyrant's Bane! Unable to comply!"

"Dammit!" Firefly frantically switched channels while swiveling her head to track the Ironclad through the storm of flak and tracers. "Storm Warden! I need backup! Where's Manticore?"

"Manticore is currently engaged at the perimeter of your AO."

Every curse Firefly knew rolled off her tongue in an instant. If the rest of her squad disengaged to help Powder, they would lose the Bane. If her sister squadron broke off to help Powder, the line would collapse and it could jeopardize the entire battle. The answer was clear: she was the only one who could save her wingmate.

"Hang on, Powder, I'm—" Firefly's response was cut short by the roar of machine gun fire in front of her. She cursed again as she snaprolled left, returning fire with her repeater. Again, her aether bolts splashed harmlessly against the Ironclad's armor. Firefly continued to swing wide left, out of the armored griffon's firing arc and out of reach of its talons.

"Hurry your flank up, Firefly! They're on me!"

Firefly snarled at her opponent, banking hard right and applying plenty of twists and jukes to keep him guessing. She was stuck. If she didn't take out that Ironclad tailing her, she wasn't going to make it to Powder.

"I'm working on it! Stay alive!"

Ironclads had one key weakness: they were vulnerable from the rear where their armor was thinner. Firefly knew it, and the armored griffon knew it. In both prior passes, it had been very careful about keeping its back out of the line of fire. Though Firefly was sure she could outmaneuver him in a protracted battle, she was running out of time. Powder needed her NOW! She needed something that could punch through its frontal armor... like an anti-ship rocket.

Firefly eyed her target as she hoof-slapped a push-button switch on her combat harness, arming her ballistic lance. The rocket contained an armor-piercing shaped charge intended for use against airships. In training, nopony had ever used anti-ship weapons against combat fliers. But Firefly was running out of options.

The griffon looped around for another pass, applying yaw with its tail and keeping its armored front to Firefly at all times. Firefly mirrored its loop, lining up for a head-on attack. A grin crawled across Firefly's face as the griffon did exactly as she predicted. Her adversary had become complacent. The griffon wasn't even bothering to maneuver as it approached, instead relying entirely upon its armor for protection.

A whirring noise over her left shoulder ended in a click-CLACK as the cocking charge primed itself in the tube. Her headset beeped and the reflector gunsight reticle changed from the notched circle to a floating 'I,' showing her where the rocket would land if fired at range. Fighting at range, however, was the last thing on Firefly's mind. She had only one shot. She had to make it count!

Time seemed to slow as pony and griffon closed the distance. Firefly could almost count the individual tracers as the Ironclad's machine gun spat hot lead. A subtle twist of her wings allowed her to spiral around the Ironclad's stream of fire, the corkscrew rapidly tightening until it appeared they would surely collide. At the apex of her spiral, Firefly met eyes with the Ironclad. The mask was unfeeling, unflinching, and likely unaware of the mess into which it had just blundered.

Mere meters from the Ironclad, Firefly pulled the trigger. A muted click behind her left shoulder was immediately followed by a loud BANG as her ballistic lance fired. Her payload deployed, Firefly broke sharply to the right, standing herself on a wingtip and swinging her legs and tail around as hard as she could in an effort to get out of the way.

The Ironclad barreled straight past her, seemingly unfazed. It was only when Firefly looked over her shoulder that the results of her gambit became apparent. The Ironclad's head pointed straight up, its neck bent backwards at an unnatural angle. Sticking out of its forehead was the tail of Firefly's ballistic lance. As the griffon's wings were still outstretched, its nose-up position prompted it to climb. The Ironclad continued upward, splayed pinions highlighted by rays of sun breaking through the storm barriers, slowing until gravity arrested its ascent. For a moment, the griffon appeared to hang in the air.

At that instant, the warhead fuse expired. A brilliant orange fireball engulfed the Ironclad, sending what was left of it spiralling into the blasted hell below. For a moment, Firefly could only hold her course, her heart pounding, her breaths coming quickly, and the soapy taste of adrenaline fresh in her mouth. That's one for the books! The sudden crackle of the radio in her ear jarred her back into reality.

"Firefly! Where the hell are you!"

Firefly frantically swiveled her head around, looking for where Powder could be. A burst of green tracers in the distance caught Firefly's attention. With fire in her eyes, Firefly tucked her legs and wings and dove.

"Hang on, Powder!"

Firefly plummeted at breakneck speed. As she fell, she slewed her repeater onto the form of the pursuing griffon. A squeeze of the trigger fired a scattered burst that dissipated before even reaching her target. Firefly swore at the limited range of her gun's aether bolts.

"I'm coming, Powder! I'm —" Firefly didn't get a chance to finish.

The griffon fired again. Powder jerked sharply to the left at the impact, struggling to remain airborne. As more rounds slammed into her, she finally nosed down into an uncontrolled spiral. Firefly screamed. Firefly cursed. She screamed and cursed until her throat was raw.

Firefly snapped her wings shut, streamlining her form further. Wind roared in her ears and pulled on her tail. Her gear rattled and her uniform fluttered violently under the stress of speed. Blackness began creeping into the edges of her vision as the g-loads pulled the blood from her head. But Firefly didn't care. Down, down she dove, desperately trying to catch up to Powder's falling form.

"POWDER!"

1. Majestic

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BANG BANG BANG.

The crashing of hooves on the bulkhead exploded in Firefly's ears. Azure eyes snapped open. Pupils constricted to pinpoints. Adrenaline flooded her veins. Firefly awoke with a start, the sudden rush launching her to sitting position. She immediately regretted her actions. Her panicked motions were greeted by a sharp smack to the forehead by the baseplate of the top bunk. Stars danced in front of her as she cradled her aching face in her hooves.

Firefly hated bunking on her airborne radar and communication vessel. It was cramped, it was cold, and it was loud. That said, it was still better than dying of exposure while bivouacking this far north, not to mention the fact that any sleep was better than no sleep. All the same, sleep brought on things like... that. Whatever that was. Firefly shuddered at the recalled memory, but concealed it with an exasperated groan and an exaggerated rub of her sore forehead. They couldn't get back to the ship soon enough.

"Rise and shine sleepyhead!" The greeting was chipper, almost sing-song. "We're almost back to the ship!"

"I swear to gods, Eastwind..." Firefly growled.

"Do you, now? Better get all that swearing out of your system before we get back!" The other mare grinned and playfully punched Firefly on the shoulder. "I don't think the Captain wants you fouling his air!"

Eastwind's impish grin dominated her face. Firefly shook her head. She knew better than to trust the Cirrian lieutenant's military pedigree; Eastwind's youthful enthusiasm and puckish demeanor had outlasted both OCS and active deployment. As she spoke, her impeccably trimmed mane shifted beneath her flight cap, allowing a single white streaked lock to fall out of place, a trespass that was quickly corrected with a swipe of a pale yellow hoof.

Firefly glared into Eastwind's now visible crimson eyes. She had to admit she'd hated Eastwind's guts when they first met, but her constant mischief went from vexing to endearing after flying with her through the hellfire of the Continental War. Friendships have a funny way of happening when you're being shot at together, Firefly mused.

"If you ask me, the air around the captain is already foul..." Firefly scowled as she spoke.

The commander rolled out of bed and alighted on her hooves. She shook herself out, stretching tired muscles, pulling her tussled mane out of her eyes, and giving her tail a few flicks to straighten it. The clicks and swishes of sliding harnesses and closing clips filled the air as Firefly donned her flight gear once again: a flight jacket, a flak vest, a flier's cap, and a combat harness with hardpoints for weapons.

"What's on the docket for this week, Windy?" She asked as she dressed herself.

"No more patrols today since we just finished an overnighter. Thank gods." Eastwind yawned as she leaned up against the bulkhead. Stifling it with a hoof, she continued going over the schedule. "Squadron night, PT, more PT, and oh hey, looks like we've got a new recruit coming in at the end of the week."

"Of course," Firefly said while adjusting her cap. Her ears slipped into wool-lined slits worn to comfortable softness with repeated use. "Hope this one's better than the last one."

"The 'last one' had perfect scores from the naval academy." Eastwind tapped her hoof on the deck. Without looking, Firefly could discern notes of both impatience and amusement. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you enjoyed washing them out!"

"The last one? Definitely. He was an ass." Firefly snorted in contempt. "Stuck-up, bullish, and otherwise a pain in the flank. Not to mention too predictable while sparring. He couldn't think on his hooves if his life depended on it. Kid wouldn't last five seconds in a firefight."

"That's what you said for the past three candidates, Firefly."

"What can I say?" Firefly chuckled. "I have high standards."

"Eventually the CAG is going to ask you to settle down. You can't just keep washing them out if you don't have a legitimate reason to do it."

Eastwind's reminder rang true. The Commander, Air Group, had given her a deadline for choosing a junior officer to fill out her squad's ranks. If she didn't choose a replacement in two weeks, she'd be assigned one whether she liked them or not. Still, Firefly wasn't just going to pull ANYPONY for her unit, especially when she still had say in the matter.

"Not liking them is plenty of reason to wash them out. If I'm going to be spending the next couple months fighting and bleeding alongside them, I have to like them. The CAG is going to have to deal with my selections process. I'm in charge of this outfit and she knows that."

"I trust you, Firefly, but sometimes I worry."

"Don't. We've got enough to worry about with the pirates pointing guns at us and the Captain riding our backs! Now where the hay is Sunburst?"

"Awake," came the response. "Which is more than I can say for the rest of you. I thought I was the one they'd put out to pasture first."

Chief Petty Officer Sunburst was old. He knew it. The squadron knew it. Even fleet command knew it. Though he was far from geriatric, a bit of sable had already begun to creep into his orange mane. The squadron often joked that even his cutie mark, three blue raindrops overlaid on a sun, was getting wrinkly as his face. Until his provisional reenlistment contract expired, however, they were stuck with him. Or more precisely, he was stuck with them!

"Keep talking, old sire!" Firefly allowed herself a wry smirk before finishing. "FleetCOM will be tossing your wrinkly ass onto an Amani beach soon enough!"

"They'd better send some of those ESO girls with me!"

"Keep dreaming, Sunshine!" Eastwind snickered. "I don't think we need to add any more ex-wives to that laundry list of yours!"

A loud pounding on the forward bulkhead interrupted their banter. "Lieutenant commander! We're twenty klicks out. We need to get ready."

"Thanks, chief. We'll be on deck in five majesties."

The chief warrant officer waved a quick salute and closed the hatch behind her. A smug grin on her face, Firefly turned to address her team. "Ready guys?"

"Ready as we're going to be," Eastwind replied.

Firefly donned the last of her kit. The repeater clicked into its housing, pointing over her right shoulder. Over her left shoulder slid the launch tube and bulbous warhead of a ballistic lance. Finally, Firefly fixed the earpiece of her wireless set to her ear and clipped her throat microphone into place.

"Timberwolves, radio check," she spoke, clicking the switch on her left hoof.

"Eastwind."

"Old sire."

"Storm Warden."

All of the responding voices rang clearly in her headset. They were ready.

Firefly tightened her scarf, dropped her goggles over her eyes, and hoofed open the hatch. The metal door swung open, battering the three pegasi with high-altitude wind. Despite the suddenness of the icy blast, the veteran squadron was unfazed. Weeks in the frozen Frontier had hardened them to cold and wind. Sunburst and Eastwind closed and secured the hatch as they all stepped onto the corvette's upper deck. Firefly stretched her wings, breathed deeply, and leaped overboard.

The ARC ship's wake caught her outstretched wings and buoyed her up over the cockpit, allowing Firefly to bank into position just ahead of the ship. She waved her hoof in a circular motion, calling for rally up. Looking left and looking right, Firefly saw that Sunburst and Eastwind had quickly taken up positions flanking her. She smiled. They all fit together like one well-oiled machine.

Firefly's tail and scarf wildly whipped about as the wind began to pick up. She keyed her radio. "Looks like some snow near the fleet. Stick close to the ARC ship and we'll be fine."

Up ahead, fresh flakes danced through the air in shimmering curtains of crystalline ice. Visibility rapidly dropped as the squadron entered the snowstorm. Ice-cold wind and gritty frost rubbed at Firefly's muzzle and tore through her mane and tail. Cold weather acclimatization my flank, she grumbled to herself. Another moment and she was past grumbling. The frigid cloud engulfed the ponies and their ship, surrounding them in thick, murky grey.

"LORAN signal is loud and clear. Timberwolves, course correcting plus five degrees, holding altitude."

"Copy plus five degrees, holding altitude," Firefly echoed.

Firefly could feel the ship's bow wave shift ever so slightly and adjusted her flight path accordingly. Sight wasn't the only sense that Pegasi relied on for flight, but Firefly still hated being blind. On the Frontier, combat fliers found themselves increasingly reliant on their ARC ships for long-range communications, navigation, and resupply. If only I could see radar and hear radio transmissions, she thought to herself.

"Five klicks out," the ARC ship pilot announced.

"Copy five klicks," Firefly repeated. "Looks like the weather is clearing."

As if on cue, the glittering veil lifted, allowing the golden sun to break through the swirling snow. A hollow cripsness crackled in the air that nipped at skin and crystallized on every breath. Wispy cirrus clouds coalesced at altitude, gracing the mid-morning sun with a majestic halo of many colors. Mountains rose from frigid plains, cutting the sky with their jagged, rocky peaks capped with snow and ringed with lenticular clouds. Still air above and blindingly white snow below framed a sublime portrait of unspoiled nature.

A flash of reflected sunlight begged Firefly to steal a glance. Her quick peek was nearly blinding, but it was worth it to see the one thing that dominated the Frontier's horizon line. An enormous obelisk to the north towered above the wastes, its polished surface gleaming like the facets of an enormous diamond. The monolith dwarfed all buildings in its shadow, even making the great ships of the fleet look like Canterlot pleasure yachts.

An alien landscape grew in the structure's penumbra. The base of the tower straddled a grand plaza, its flying butresses casting long shadows over the dwellings below. Crystal streets radiated out from the central spire with cross streets arranging dwellings and shops into neat angular blocks. The dense cityscape tapered off as it sprawled away from the spire.

Where there was once desolation there was now lush flora. Green grass and wooded thickets formed a patchwork carpet with farms and orchards in an enormous ring around the tower. The verdant quilt abruptly ended a few kilometers from the spire. On one side of the terminator were green fields and on the other, frozen wastes. Separating the two was a barely-perceptible shimmer that traced out a great circle with the tower at its center.

Sunburst whistled in awe. "There's the shield dome. I'll never understand that magic, but it's really a thing of beauty..."

"We've been doing this for weeks and the Crystal Palace still takes my breath away," Eastwind sighed dreamily.

"Stay focused, guys!" Firefly smirked as she jokingly chided her team. "You act like this is the first time we've flown into the Crystal Empire or something!"

With the snow gone, the fleet was finally visible. Airships of all shapes and sizes puttered about on the edge of the city. Frigates and their attending fliers circled the perimeter on combat air patrol. Cruisers and destroyers lay anchored while conducting crew drills or refueling. But one ship loomed above the others, a massive floating fortress that bristled with weapons and bustled with activity.

"Home sweet Majestic home!" Eastwind said, echoing Firefly's sentiments. "A hard bunk in steerage never sounded so good!"

As Firefly and her team approached, the tiny dots on the massive vessel's flight deck began to resolve themselves. Ponies, griffons, zebras, and even a few young dragons milled about around the central superstructure, an elongated metal island topped with radar masts, radio aerials, and anti-air guns. Eight large landing pads and their attached flight elevators serviced arriving and departing smaller ships, most of them ARC vessels like Storm Warden.

Firefly keyed her radio. "Majestic control, this is Timberwolf One, requesting permission for approach, over."

"Timberwolf, Storm Warden, you are cleared for approach to landing spot three." The smooth voice of the Majestic's air traffic controller came back over the airwaves.

"Gear down and props to vertical, Majestic," the ARC pilot responded. "Coming in now."

"This is Timberwolf One," Firefly spoke. "We're following the ARC ship in. See you on deck, boys."

Firefly and her squad circled the landing spot twice, allowing the ARC ship time to land and begin to power down its engines. The Timberwolves flared hard, descending onto the deck and making a soft touchdown. As she folded her wings to her sides, she was blasted in the face with fresh powder blowing off the deck from Storm Warden's rapidly fading downwash. Flight operations crew descended upon the ARC ship like birds upon feed, but with her part done, Firefly paid them little mind. She shook the snow out of her tail and pinions and trotted on.

The Timberwolves continued to the flight deck island, where Sunburst trotted forward to heft open the exterior hatch. Firefly lifted her goggles and loosened her scarf, allowing it to flutter behind her as she descended the ladder into the bowels of the ship. As Sunburst closed and secured the hatch behind them, the topside sunlight disappeared, leaving only the electric lights of the Majestic's interior. Ladder grating rapidly transitioned to hard deck, which yawned into a cavernous hangar in the belly of the Majestic. Machinery hummed and churned all about them. Welding torches and rivet drivers and hammers and spanners harmonized in a symphony of military operations.

Typical of Equestrian ships, the working areas were well-lit and decorated with little reminders of home. Lucky horseshoes, inlaid display cases with pressed flowers and photographs, and corkboards with cards and letters from school children and loved ones adorned the walls of the hangar and the workspaces of the engineers and mechanics. Though she was grateful for any support, the charm had long ago worn off on Firefly.

"Poor kids probably had to do it for some dumb school assignment," she muttered as she passed a corkboard being updated with the latest batch of letters.

"Don't be so dour, Firefly," Eastwind said. "I'm sure some of them really love writing to their heroes in the Alliance Navy!"

"Of course! Who could resist?" Sunburst said. In his most bombastic navy recruiter's voice, Sunburst carried on, "Exotic locales, wily pirates, swashbuckling action, handsome stallions, and gorgeous mares! Live the adventure! Sign up today with the Alliance Navy!"

Sunburst acted out his speech, sweeping his hoof wide to trace a mock horizon, covering one eye in imitation of a pirate's eyepatch, and making sword-stroke motions in the air at the mention of 'swashbuckling action.' He concluded with his best 'handsome stallion' face and a mockingly enthusiastic salute as if posing for a recruiting poster. Eastwind laughed heartily at his antics and Firefly couldn't help but crack a smile.

The smile quickly faded, however, as they passed a gutted corvette laid in silent repose on the hangar floor. The ship had seen combat and plenty of it. Bullet holes and shrapnel cuts marred the surface of its plating, some of them even extending into the ship's superstructure. At the edge of perception was the acrid odor of burned metal and melted electronics. Firefly shuddered at the memories it evoked.

"Lieutenant Commander Firefly! Just the mare I needed to see!" The sudden address snapped Firefly back into reality.

"Commander on deck!" Eastwind barked.

At the pronouncement, all three Timberwolves lined up and snapped to attention. Their hind hooves clicked together and their front right hooves all jumped to brow height in a single, practiced motion, concluding with the squad remaining motionless before the commander. The mare addressing them was of middling height, with a lithe and wiry frame typical of combat fliers. Among those combat fliers, however, she was unique.

Instead of feathers, she sported leathery wings akin to those of a bat, making her areion — batpony, as the colloquialism went — heritage immediately apparent. The khaki service uniform contrasted heavily with her navy blue coat, her white garrison cap framed by tufted ears unique to the areion. Her silvery tail was trimmed to regulation, her similarly-colored mane tucked into a tight bun under her headgear. A pair of fierce gold eyes rounded out the countenance of a veteran senior officer, the commander of the air group and executive officer aboard the Majestic.

"At ease, Timberwolves." The commander's stoic expression softened as she returned the salute. "I'm not running inspections... not today anyway."

"Commander Brahma Kamal! Good to see you again!" Firefly said as she dopped attention in favor of a more relaxed stance. "I wasn't expecting you in the hangars!"

"Neither was I, but our last batch of nuggets just came in. I've got a new candidate to introduce to you."

Firefly's heart sank. They weren't supposed to arrive until the end of the week! All she was looking for was a hot shower and a warm bunk followed by cold drinks on shore leave. She didn't have time for this horseapples!

"With all due respect, ma'am, my squad was run ragged on that last patrol. We're all exhausted and in serious need of some shut-eye. Now isn't a good time."

"Firefly, I'd argue that now is the perfect time. Squadron night for you guys is tonight, isn't it?"

Firefly gritted her teeth. She knew what the CAG was getting at. The squadron night tradition dated back to the end of the Continental War, where veterans would gather on leave to swap stories and offer comfort over tales of battle. The shared bonding experience carried over to those deployed abroad. This was especially true with the long hours that the combat fliers pulled on patrols on the Frontier. It thus came as no surprise that Brahma knew about squadron night. But Timberwolf's squadron night belonged to Firefly. She didn't need some nugget with a chip on his shoulder screwing it up.

"Can I say no?" Firefly ventured.

"Firefly, you're nearing the end of your alotted evaluation period." Though her tone was official, there was no malice in her voice. Brahma's countenance was that of a firm but patient tutor addressing an obstinate foal. "If you don't select a candidate to fill the position in your squadron, one will be selected for you by the administration whether you like it or not."

"I know, I know." Firefly sighed tiredly. She unconsciously rubbed her forehead, wondering if she would regret her decision. "Let's get this over with. Bring them in."

"Lieutenant," Brahma turned her head and called out behind her. "This is Lieutenant Commander Firefly, your new supervising officer."

From behind Brahma stepped a well-built pegasus stallion. His muscular frame filled out the uniform shirt he was given and his issued junior officer's combination cap seemed almost too small for his head. His coat was a misty grey the color of stormclouds, his mane and tail a cerulean blue streaked with sky. His cutie mark was a wind-blown stormcloud with a lone lightning bolt shooting out. Probably a former weather pony, Firefly thought. Though he pulled himself upright during presentation, Firefly could tell he was nervous. The fresh officer snapped to attention and saluted Firefly.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Thunderlane reporting for duty, ma'am!"

Boy you really are green, aren't you? Firefly mused. His uniform was perfectly clean, his shirt impeccably creased, and his hat buffed to a mirror sheen. That was going to change as soon as he got dropped into his first sortie. Firefly returned his salute, but omitted putting him at ease. Like a good soldier, Thunderlane remained at attention.

"Where are you from, son?"

"Equestria, ma'am! A little town called —"

"If I wanted more information, lieutenant, I'd ask you for it!" Firefly cut him off.

"Apologies, ma'am!" Though he maintained his stance, the little waver at the edge of his voice told Firefly he was shaken.

Firefly stole a quick glance at Brahma, whom she could tell was struggling to maintain a straight face at her grilling of the new recruit. For Thunderlane, this was surely terrifying, but for Firefly, this was merely routine. She could have fun with this...

"Equestria, huh? I figured a prettyboy like you would be from Pyre!" Firefly said with furrowed brow. "Where in Equestria?"

"Ponyville, ma'am!" The response was curt and abrupt. Good, he was quick to pick up commands.

"Ponyville? I've never heard of any Ponyville! Where's that?"

"Central Equestria, ma'am, dead west of Canterlot!" He knew his geography, at least enough to point to spots on a map, and could condense the information into fast tidbits in a moment. This was already an improvement to the 'navigationally impaired' officer that had last been in Thunderlane's place.

Ordinarily, Firefly would have asked more questions at an ever increasing rate just to see if Thunderlane could keep up. But the previous night had taken its toll and Firefly was just as eager to get off the flight line as Thunderlane surely was. She decided to skip her usual gamut of questions and get straight to the heart of the evaluation. Any yahoo could answer questions about Equestria, the Alliance, and their history, but not everypony would be honest as to why they had signed on in the first place. Firefly turned up her senior officer glare to maximum.

"So, lieutenant... tell me about yourself. How did you get stuck in this horseapples outfit?"

Firefly's stern gaze and pointed delivery hit the conversation like a burst of flak. Brahma's hinted smile immediately disappeared. Eastwind and Sunburst exchanged looks of disapproval at the edge of her vision. But Firefly wasn't concerned about their reactions; they knew full well how she did things. She was most concerned with Thunderlane. The lieutenant hestitated for a moment, as if taken aback by Firefly's sudden interjection. But then, a curious change came over Thunderlane. His chest puffed out, his eyes seemed to ignite, and he stood up even straighter if that was possible.

"I volunteered, ma'am!" Thunderlane proclaimed. "I went through OCS ahead of the draft during the Continental War, but they finished off the griffons before I was deployed. I stayed on during the drawdown since the REA needed capable young officers."

"And then FleetCOM booted your nugget ass up here?"

Firefly was now more curious than anything else. There were two kinds of recruits: those who joined to get a taste of action and those who were dragged into it by circumstances outside their control. Strangely enough, Thunderlane was neither of these.

"No, ma'am. I volunteered for that, too, when I read about the Crystal Empire." Thunderlane paused a moment, thinking out his response carefully. "I love helping other ponies, ma'am. I thought I could do some good up here."

His sincerity was unexpected, shocking even. But what resonated most clearly in Firefly's head were those words. I thought I could do some good up here. She remembered those words. She remembered the one who said those words. Emotions flared within her, barely contained by her hardened exterior and veteran's demeanor.

"Boy you're a regular colt scout aren't you?" she spat, perhaps more emphatically than she meant. But even if she didn't mean it, she wasn't going to apologize.

"Let me tell you something, lieutenant," Firefly said, her gaze not wavering from Thunderlane. "You may have come up here to do some good, but a tour in the Frontier isn't your little sister's tea party. It's cold, it's mean, and it's hard out there."

Firefly began to pace back and forth in front of Thunderlane as she continued. "The second you step into that uniform and strap on those weapons, nothing else matters. It's you, the sky, and your guns. You alone are responsible for making sure you live long enough to come back to what you left behind. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Thunderlane bellowed in response.

"You don't..." Firefly whispered, her stony-faced expression hiding the last dying ember of emotion. "But you'll learn soon enough."

"Commander Kamal, I expected you on the bridge, not in the hangar." The sharp voice of a stallion cut through the noise of the hangar.

"Captain on deck!" Sunburst snapped to attention and raised his hoof in salute.

Even as she fell back in line, Firefly bristled at the voice. As if this day couldn't get any worse. The ember of emotion reignited, threatening to break into an all-out conflagration. The tongues of inner fire were already licking at Firefly's fatigue-addled self-control. Thankfully, Brahma was the subject of the address. Firefly wasn't sure what she'd do if the captain had chosen to address her personally.

"Captain Skywind, I might say the same for you," the commander replied as they exchanged salutes. "I was introducing a new combat flier to his squadron."

The pegasus captain towered over his subordinates, being nearly a full head taller than Firefly. Skywind was broad-shouldered, his features handsome and chiseled. His white wings were neatly folded by his side, the navy-blue tips of his pinions contrasting sharply with both his flight feathers and the khaki of his navy service uniform. His cutie mark was the likeness of a winged sword; sharp, much like his profile.

Locks of immaculate brown hair were tucked neatly under his combination cap and his white coat shone in the cold light of the hangar deck like the walls of the Crystal Palace. Firefly could see the pride in his terrible blue eyes. Skywind carried himself like a pony of noble standing, presenting himself with neither timidity nor remorse. The captain paused at Brahma's reply, finally acknowledging Timberwolf flight's presence with a bored, emotionless glance.

"Isn't that the adjutants' job?" he said impassively.

Firefly gritted her teeth. He hadn't even given them the courtesy of returning the salute or setting them at ease. Furthermore, the indifference with which he addressed the CAG was infuriating. Again, Brahma coolly responded to the captain, keeping Firefly from spewing some choice words.

"I could delegate to my adjutants, sir," Brahma's words were calm but firm. "But as the CAG on this ship, I exercise full discretion over how I choose to work with my squadrons."

"Do as you see fit, commander, but don't waste too much time showing the foals around. They received the best training in Pyre and have the best equipment the Alliance can offer. I expect them to be able to perform straight out of the gate!"

"I am well aware of that, captain. VFA-108 will be ready when they are called upon."

"As they should be. Now, I have administration to attend to." Skywind trotted on as he spoke. "I'll be on the bridge, commander."

"Jackass..." Firefly muttered under her breath.

Skywind stopped dead in his tracks. Firefly's ears drooped for a second at the realization that her mumbled epithet had been overheard. As the captain turned around, though, Firefly quenched her embarrassment with anger. She remained firmly at attention, eyes straight forward, resisting every urge to glare and scowl at Skywind.

"What was that, lieutenant commander?"

"I don't follow, sir."

"That's funny, I could have sworn you'd said something to me!" Skywind's tone had gone from bored to mocking in moments. "... or about me."

"The hangar is quite loud, sir." Firefly spoke slowly and kept her tone flat in an effort not to betray her original intent.

The captain stepped up until he was nearly muzzle to muzzle with Firefly. His eyes fixed upon hers and his glare was focused to bore into her skull. Out of the corner of her eye, Firefly could see Eastwind and Sunburst visibly recoil at the captain's sudden advance. Firefly didn't flinch. She stared straight ahead, pretending that she was looking into the nothingness that surely filled Skywind's head.

"You may not have high expectations of this ship, lieutenant commander, but I do!"

Skywind whirled around as he spoke, very nearly brushing Firefly's muzzle with the tip of his tail. It was all Firefly could do to keep from body-checking him into the deck. Skywind's voice was laced with a noxious mixture of personal pomp and antipathy toward Firefly's muttered curse.

"I requisitioned nothing but the best from Alliance and I expect nothing less than overachievement!"

Firefly remained silent, physically biting her tongue to keep from spitting and cursing right then and there. Nopony deserved to place himself on a pedestal like Skywind. Nopony. That kind of hubris was what Firefly craved to break. She'd done it before against bullies, thugs, and self-righteous patricians when she was young and she wouldn't hesitate to do it again. But chain of command stood in her way this time — a chain of command that involved Brahma. The CAG was on her side and making Brahma's life difficult was not going to help. Firefly cringed as Skywind carried on unabated.

"But in order to attain that level of performance, a soldier must first be broken — broken of all preconceptions about how they THINK things should be run!" Skywind began to pace as he continued to lecture. "Out here, you don’t take orders from the Princesses of Equestria, the Aquellian Prime Minister, or the King of Pyre. You take orders from ME."

The last word was less spoken and more fired like a cannon shell. Skywind swept his gaze across the Timberwolves, who were still stuck at attention, and took a moment to glare at Thunderlane. He finally turned back to face Firefly, staring straight into her eyes once again.

"Out here, I am God." Skywind's words were hard and cold, offering all the comfort of a knife to the throat. "Do I make myself clear, lieutenant commander?"

"Yes, sir," came the flat response.

"Do I make myself clear, lieutenant commander?" Skywind repeated.

Firefly seethed. He'd heard the first time. She knew he'd heard. Under any other circumstances, Firefly would have left him bleeding on the floor. But chain of command was in effect and all the consequences it entailed.

Firefly clenched her teeth and forced her response. "Yes. Sir."

"Your squadron is dismissed. Commander Kamal, I'll see you on the bridge." Skywind took a few steps before looking over his shoulder at Firefly and uttering a few parting words. "I'll have my eye on you, lieutenant commander."

Firefly's eye twitched involuntarily as Skywind finally trotted out of earshot. For a moment, she couldn't even leave attention. Contempt. Rage. Frustration. Skywind brought out the worst in her. As she festered, the feelings that she had been bottling up during their encounter finally boiled over. Any semblance of self-control that remained evaporated in the heat of rage.

"THAT PYRIAN SON OF A BITCH!" Firefly stomped on the deck as she spat her venom, the loud BANG drawing quizzical glances from nearby mechanics. "He really gets off to that, doesn't he?"

"Firefly." Brahma's inflection was flat in stark contrast to Firefly's incensed tirade.

"I bet that bastard hasn't worked a day in his life!" Firefly continued to rail. "Where the hell was he the last war?"

"Firefly!"

"How do you let him treat you like that, commander?" Firefly implored Brahma. "Where's the admiral in all this horseapples, huh?"

"ENOUGH!" Firefly winced at the sudden shout from Brahma. The stern air wing commander had returned. "Firefly, I don't care how much you hate the captain, he is still your superior officer! I shouldn't have to remind you to give him some respect!"

"Respect that he doesn't give us?" Firefly shot back.

"We're better than that, Firefly," came the snapped response. Brahma paused for a moment, meeting Firefly's eyes. "You're better than that. I know you are."

The tone whiplash left Firefly conflicted. Part of her wanted to punch somepony, anypony, even Brahma. The other knew that Brahma was right. Skywind was an insufferable prick, but he was still in charge. She had to handle herself, if only for Brahma and the team.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Firefly finally said, her ears drooping.

"So am I." Brahma sighed. There was a long pause as the miasma of ill will slowly dispersed.

Finally, Brahma spoke. "Your squadron is dismissed, Firefly. Have fun at squadron night, but don't stay out too late. Your training block is at 0830 tomorrow."

"Aye, ma'am," Firefly replied. She stepped to the side, addressing the young officer who still hovered in the wings. "Thunderlane?"

"Lieutenant commander?" Thunderlane's ears perked at the mention of his name.

"Firefly, please," Firefly said, holding a hoof up in a halting gesture. "Squadron night is 2100 at the Six Carat Horseshoe. Ask for it on the ground. The Crystal Ponies will point you in the right direction. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Best get going, kid."

Thunderlane saluted cleanly before doing an about-face and trotting off with Brahma Kamal. As their hoof falls faded into the hum of hangar work, Firefly closed her eyes and sighed. She rubbed her tired eyes with a hoof. The sooner she could put this behind her, the better.

"You okay, Firefly?" Eastwind was worried again; Firefly could hear it in her speech.

Firefly pushed past Eastwind, barely feeling the touch of her wingmate's hoof on her shoulder. She didn't need Eastwind worrying and she didn't want her pity. She trotted straight for the armory.

"I'm fine," she spat.

"That's horseapples and you know it!" Sunburst quickened his steps to keep up, even opening his wings a little in case he had to chase her down. Saying nothing at first, Firefly picked up the pace, arriving at the armory in short order.

Weapons vault number fourteen was one of many on board the Majestic. Racks and shelving held aetheric repeaters of varying types and harnesses for all sizes and shapes of pony. In one corner stood a set of racks and a separate ammunition locker for griffon rifles and Equestrian machine guns. Finally in the very back of the chamber was the heavy steel door to the ordnance vault, where explosives such as Firefly's ballistic lance were stored.

"Timberwolf flight. Lieutenant Commander Firefly, Lieutenant Eastwind, Chief Petty Officer Sunburst. Three ballistic lances, three repeaters to check in." Firefly said quickly to the adjutant at the armory office. She was waved through just as quickly.

"Firefly!" Sunburst nearly tripped coming through the armory doors, but caught himself with a flap of his wings just in time. The older stallion shook it off, landed on his hooves, and stepped up to Firefly again. "You can't blow up at the captain like that and expect us to believe you when you tell us you're 'fine'!"

Firefly detached her repeater from her harness, electing to cradle it in her front hooves as she put it back on its rack. The ballistic lance came next. Each step was a familiar process, each process a part of a comforting routine. She needed something to cling to, something to get her mind off the hangar debacle.

"It's nothing a nap and a drink won't fix, chief." Firefly continued deflecting Sunburst's interrogation as she stripped down.

"That's not—" Sunburst was interrupted by a hoof gently crossed in front of him by Eastwind. Sunburst's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing further. Eastwind met eyes with Firefly. The latter quickly spun around to avert her gaze, carrying the ballistic lance off to the ordnance vault. She knew Eastwind would keep asking, but Firefly didn't want to answer.

"What did you think of the kid?" Eastwind asked instead. At the change of subject, Firefly instantly perked up. Eastwind knew how to take care of her wingmates and for that Firefly was eternally grateful.

"He's sharp." Firefly jumped at the chance to talk about something else. "Not a musclehead like I thought he'd be. It was actually refreshing."

There was a lot to like about the kid. He followed instructions but at the same time, he could think on his hooves. He was well-trained, well-educated, and highly motivated. The thing that stood out most to Firefly, however, was that Thunderlane was legitimately a pleasant individual. In writing, his patriotic and altruistic platitudes would have fallen flat, but in person, it was far more tolerable — endearing, even. The last step would be to give him a shakedown flight with the squadron.

"Agreed. I think Thunderlane has plenty of potential," Eastwind nodded. "Still plan on washing him out in the first week?"

"If he plans on making a complete jackass of himself at squadron night and this week's drills, then yes, I do plan on washing him out. What about you, Sunburst?" Firefly looked to the chief petty officer, who still wore a scowl after being cut off by both his squadmates. Firefly sighed. "All right, all right. I apologize, chief. I'm sorry. I'm a little strung out this week, all right?"

"Just try not to string anypony out at the Horseshoe tonight!" Sunburst huffed. "Anyway, Thunderlane gets an initial vote of confidence from me. He seems like a good kid and I'd like to see what he can do."

"We trust you to make the final call, Firefly," Eastwind said. "But try not to give him the boot unnecessarily."

"We'll see."

Firefly took a deep breath of the cold, dry air as she finished locking up the armory. She didn't mean to do this to her squadmates. She'd never meant to slight Sunburst or force Eastwind to cover for her. She cared too much for her team to put them through another hell. But all the same, maybe things were looking up. The rookie looked promising and her squadron was still solid as ever. Those things were what mattered. Everything else was just frills.

"Let's get going," Firefly said as she latched the armory door shut. "I've got a hot date with the shower!"

2. Shore Leave

View Online

Nightfall did nothing to dampen the fantastical nature of the Crystal Capital. The Crystal Palace continued to dominate the city's skyline, its dizzying spires framed by the glassy inner surface of the shield dome. Glowing aether gems floated in the strange energies emitted by the Palace, the same energies that made the icy expanse bloom and the frigid gales turn to warm breeze. Each fragment slowly orbited the palace in chaotic patterns, giving the appearance of a swarm of moths dancing around a lantern's flame.

The suspended shards could not be identified as such from the ground. Instead, their bizarre phosphorescence made them appear to be floating balls of light — much like tales of will 'o the wisp in heartland Equestria. The veritable armada of fairie lanterns warmed the hardened surface of the Palace with their glow, casting fleeting reflections on the shield dome above and strange shadows on the dwellings below.

At the edge of the shield dome, the great ships moored, dropping anchor in prepared staging grounds laden with fuel, foodstuffs, and munitions. Combat air patrols with small ships and night-shift fliers circled at the edge of the dome, their crews ever vigilant for trouble. Even the mighty Majestic slumbered in silence, the only indication of life being its slowly blinking running lights and a few fleeting shadows of night guard on patrol.

The city itself seemed to sleep. Very few lights flared in the crystal pony dwellings in the outskirts. Those that did were the feeble glow of lantern lights, in stark contrast to the sterile, harsh radiance of Equestrian electric lamps. Near the city center, however, the glow at street level intensified, suggesting more than just ambient lighting from the Palace's aether gems. Indeed, one point of the star-shaped city was brightly lit, becoming a brilliant arrow pointing north. The market district hummed with activity. Night market shopkeepers hocked their wares, bars and restaurants buzzed with patrons, and Crystal Ponies and Equestrian visitors alike chatted and chortled the night away.

Tucked in a quiet block between two shops closed for the night was a small, squat building. The structure was in fact distinct for its lack of distinction. Unlike other Crystal Pony shops and dwellings, it was not composed of carved crystal or adorned with iridescent paint. Instead, its walls were made of simple stone and mortar, its furnishings of painted wood, and its roof of layered slate shingles — an architectural style that was uniquely Equestrian. A small easel sign bearing a carved-wood likeness of a studded horseshoe stood on the sidewalk, advertising the establishment's name: The Six Carat Horseshoe.

The interior of the Horseshoe matched its exterior aesthetic, with stone and wood being the dominant construction materials. Rough granite slabs formed the floor, punctuated by table fittings and vertical spars that supported the rafters. A stone hearth made its home in the far corner of the building in which a roaring fire burned. Despite the fact that the establishment was quite small, the high ceiling and limited lighting dispelled any lingering sense of claustrophobia.

Discs of seasoned wood laid on stacked rough-cut stones formed the tables. The tabletops were a wonder unto themselves, each being composed of massive cross-sections of what appeared to be a single ancient tree trunk. Efforts to count the number of growth rings would prove futile, only adding to the mystery. At the rear corner of the establishment was the bar, a long hardwood counter made of planks cut from the same trees as the tables. Like their circular counterparts, they were unvarnished, keeping all the dings and dents of everyday use, preserving it even through the Crystal Empire's magical slumber.

Strange ditties wafted through the establishment, the product of two Crystal Ponies upon the small stage at the Horseshoe's rear. One manned a xylophone, its bars made of glittering Crystal Empire stone rather than traditional Equestrian wood. The other sat behind a more familiar looking drum set. The The music was atonal and arhythmic, more ambient than melodic, and seemed to give the patrons of the Horseshoe the impression of being inside an enormous crystal.

Firefly tossed back her crystal berry mead, licking her lips and savoring the sweet, but sharp flavor of the Crystal Empire's native crop. Though she couldn't care less about the local music, she wasn't there to listen to some garage band perform. She was at the Horseshoe for a drink and bit of respite. The mead satisfied her needs for now. It was a welcome break from the "near beer" they were served on board ship. Had she the choice, she would gladly have dumped their entire stock overboard.

"Damn shame we can't grab a few kegs to go! Beats that near beer pisswater any day!" Sunburst smacked his lips as he finished a long draught from his flagon. "We could just take the ARC ship out to the edge of the shield dome and have ourselves a deck party!"

"And then get your wrinkly ass thrown in the brig for inappropriate use of Auntie Celestia's hardware!" Eastwind chuckled.

"Worth it!"

"You're not a Manehattan U frat boy anymore, Sunburst! Act like it!" Firefly gave Sunburst a mock glare. The old sire could be a hoof full sometimes, especially after he'd gotten a few drinks in him.

By the time she'd gotten to the bottom of her first flagon, Sunburst was already midway through his second and showed no signs of stopping. Normally Firefly would have joined him. Drinking contests were common and Firefly even held the unofficial squadron record for speed on the "7-gun salute," a gauntlet of liquor shots that rapidly escalated in both strength and pungency. But not today. Firefly was taking it easy. There would be no drinking contests, no crazy antics. She wasn't even sitting at their usual table, instead choosing a seat at the bar where she could nurse her drink in peace.

The rustic theme of the Six Carat Horseshoe might have proved off-putting to those with more refined tastes, but Firefly found it comforting to be reminded of home. The proprietor had done an excellent job replicating a bar from a small Heartland Equestrian town, right down to the 'lucky' horseshoes over the door and the carved wooden horseheads on the fireplace mantle. The bar itself stocked all sorts of spirits, beers, and wines, many of them now hot commodities seeing as the recipes were aged over a thousand years. A few imported kegs and bottles of Equestrian and Griffon beverages catered to patrons with simpler tastes. Firefly often sampled the various liquors and beers when she had a chance, finding a particular liking to the earthy but pungent flavors of southern Aquellian spirits.

"You need anything else, lieutenant commander?"

Firefly turned to the husky baritone voice of the Crystal Pony behind the counter. He was an older stallion with a faded blonde mane and cyan coat that glittered with the characteristic crystal sheen of the Empire's denizens. A tiny tuft of a beard grew on his chin the same color as his mane and tail, giving him a sagely, wizened look. Had it not been for the coat unique to all Crystal Ponies, he could easily have been mistaken for an earth pony in Equestria.

"You're not Navy, Castle! No need to call me commander in here!" Firefly dismissed the formality with a wave of her hoof. "You can make up to me by grabbing me another flagon of crystal berry mead, though!"

"Coming right up, Firefly," Castle chuckled.

Castle was the bartender and sole proprietor of the Horseshoe. A quick conversation revealed his love of other cultures and individual eccentricities. Unlike the other Crystal Ponies, who seemed to be in perpetual culture shock when talking to Alliance forces, Castle was perfectly at home conversing with Firefly and her squad. A few squadron nights at the Horseshoe and Castle was very nearly caught up with most of what had transpired during the Crystal Empire's disappearance; or as Castle preferred to call it, the "extended vacation."

"You seem awfully quiet tonight," he said as he poured Firefly's drink. "You're usually hammering down your second shot by now!"

"It's just one of those days," Firefly replied flatly.

"I can tell! It'd have to be pretty rough to wipe you out!"

Firefly frowned. Castle was doing his duty as bartender to keep his patrons engaged and entertained, but this was something she preferred not to talk about. Thankfully, he caught on to his faux pas quickly.

"I'm sorry, Firefly. I didn't mean to pry," Castle apologized.

"It's fine. I'm just a little strung out today. Stressful week."

"Well, let's not make it any more stressful then. Your drinks are on the house tonight. It's the least I can do for one of my most loyal patrons!"

"Hey, what about me?" Sunburst's voice called out behind her.

"You don't count, Sunburst!" Castle scowled. "You're paying for your own drinks tonight, old sire!"

"Mind picking something out for me, Firefly?"

"Keep dreaming, Sunshine." Firefly barely cracked a smile. She could hear Sunburst shift on his cushion behind her and resume his conversation with Eastwind, though she mostly tuned out what was said.

They meant well. All of them. Firefly sighed. Maybe Sunburst was on the right track. A couple shots from Castle's liquor shelf would make her relax for certain. With Castle's offer of free drinks, she could certainly load up if she wanted. But Firefly knew that numbing wasn't going to help. She had to go back to her friends.

"I'll just take this with me, Castle."

The bartender nodded and waved her off. Firefly picked up her flagon in one hoof and trotted back to the table on the other three, arriving just in time for Sunburst to finish his anecdote.

"... so this kid says to me, 'But Chief, you don't understand! This girl! She had a flank that could pull a train! It wasn't just a flank, it was literature!'"

"And you agreed with him?" Eastwind's response was a mixture of mock disgust and quiet amusement.

"Of course I did!" Sunburst snorted in feigned indignation. "I am a connoisseur of flank!"

"I'm surprised you didn't get court-martialed for harassment."

"Now hold on, there!" Sunburst raised his front hooves in a halting gesture. "I might have agreed with him, but I never actually said it out loud. Just because I was in Mu Lambda Pi at Manehattan U doesn't mean I'm unprofessional."

"So what did you actually say?"

"I told him," Sunburst crossed his hooves across his chest and in the gruffest possible voice emulated a Navy Recruit Division Commander. "'Son, I don't care how big her flank was, you're swabbing the hangar deck for the next week!'"

"Good call... chief." Firefly snickered. "I knew there was still a bit of RDC left in you!"

"Firefly!" Sunburst waved to her. "You're just in time for my next fantastical tale of life on the San Palomino!"

"I can guarantee I've already heard this one."

"Oh c'mon! You don't want another go just for old time's sake?"

"Thanks for the offer, chief, but I'm good. Now where the hay is Thunderlane?" The sound of opening doors caught Firefly's ear.

"Speak of the devil..." Eastwind said.

"... and he shall appear!" Sunburst finished.

Firefly's eyes quickly followed, falling upon several ponies in military flight jackets filing in: a griffon, an areion, a few pegasi, and finally Thunderlane. The rookie seemed entirely unaware that he was being watched. Instead his attention was being held by the story he was telling, the hoof and wing motions to go with it, and the celeste-coated lady pegasus listening with rapt interest. Eventually, Thunderlane seemed to realize where he was and — apparently with great reluctance — said his goodbyes and approached the table.

"Sorry I'm late, ma'am," Thunderlane said, snapping to attention.

Before he could salute, Firefly waved him off. "Cut the formalities, kid. We're off duty!"

"Sorry I'm late... Firefly." Thunderlane hestitated before enunciating her name, as if it were a word in a foreign language, one that ponies were unable to even vocalize like indigenous Aquellian or Unyasan click-tongue. Firefly smirked at Thunderlane's level of fluster. For all his credentials and coltscout demeanor, he seemed absolutely stymied by seniority.

"Pull up a cushion and have yourself a drink." Firefly said, patting the cushion next to her. "I promise we don't bite!"

The Horseshoe's seating accomodations were quite literally down to earth. As opposed to high bar stools and elevated tables in a typical establishment, the great tree tables were laid close to the ground, with cushions placed around them to allow ponies to lie or sit down as they saw fit. Firefly sat down into a cushion next to Eastwind, shuffling her own wings as she settled in.

"So much buzz about artifacts and history flying around, and all you jokers care about is the mead!" Castle laughed as he brought over a flagon of mead for Thunderlane.

"Do we look like eggheads to you?" Firefly retorted.

"Eh, Eastwind kinda does when she wears glasses." Sunburst squinted as he spoke, feigning the vision problems of old age.

"But you obviously don't." Eastwind paused to give the punchline some extra weight. "Seeing as your alma mater was Manehattan U after all!"

"Why I oughta..." Sunburst shook his hoof in mock consternation, to which Eastwind responded by sticking out her tongue.

"Excuse the foals," Firefly chuckled. "This is their opportunity to act out, so they take all the silliness they can get."

"Thank you, Castle." Thunderlane said, giving a nod of acknolwedgement to each pony as he spoke. "Firefly, Sunburst, and Eastwind? It's an honor to get the opportunity to fly with you!"

"You're a real piece of work, aren't you, kid?" Firefly smirked. "You ever going to stop being impeccably polite?"

"I was always taught to be polite to my superior officers, ma— Firefly." Thunderlane managed to catch himself before slipping back into formalities.

"Army brat?"

"Nah, I'm first generation, actually," Thunderlane replied, finally hitting his stride. "During my stint in Wonderbolt Academy, Fleetfoot, one of the instructors, kind of took me under her wing. I picked up the lingo and the culture quick."

"You didn't go Wonderbolt after the war?" Firefly raised an eyebrow.

"They left the offer open, but I'd already fallen in love with the military life by then." Thunderlane shrugged.

"No kidding."

Firefly was genuinely intrigued. Though not military, the Wonderbolts were Equestria's premier aerobatics demonstration team and the flier equivalent of rock stars. Trottingham United and Sapphire Shores had nothing on them. To even be accepted into the academy was every Equestrian Pegasus' dream and to pass selections was a fast track to stardom. Ponies would have killed to be in Thunderlane's position, and he just turned them down — to do military grunt work of all things.

"He really is a poster boy for recruitment!" Sunburst laughed, slapping the table with a hoof. The laugh was contagious, quickly spreading to the other members of the squad. Even Thunderlane ventured a nervous chuckle.

"So who's your marefriend, rookie?" Sunburst asked after he'd finished.

"Marefriend?" Thunderlane cocked his head to the side, entirely puzzled. "I don't have a —"

Firefly rolled her eyes. There he went again! Sunburst's ear for gossip and tongue for needling were at it again.

"Nonsense!" Sunburst grinned like a hyena, his eyebrows waggling. "You think we didn't see that cutie walking in the door with you?"

"I —" Thunderlane tried to formulate a response, but it was quickly drowned out by other squad chatter.

"Knock it off, Fratburst," Eastwind said, punching Sunburst on the shoulder.

"What? I was just hoping to hear a good story!"

"Walking in the door? Wait, you mean Stormy?" Thunderlane said, cutting everypony short. "We're not together!"

For a moment, there was no response from the squad, save for a raised eyebrow from Firefly. Sunburst looked at Eastwind and smirked, to which she responded with snickering. Firefly shook her head as Thunderlane stuttered and stumbled with his words before finally regaining his composure.

"It's not that funny, guys!" He scowled. "I was just being friendly, seeing as this is the first night in country for both of us. She's one of the new officer recruits! She's from Ponyville, too. Can't believe we've lived there all our lives and never remember meeting each other!"

"Already on a nickname basis, huh?" Eastwind perched her chin atop her hooves and leaned on the table as she listened to Thunderlane. "Sounds like the beginning of a great love story!"

"Or a trashy graphic novel." Sunburst snickered.

"I don't think your 'gentlecolt' mags count as graphic novels, Sunburst!" Eastwind shot back.

"Hey what is this? Lay into the old sire night?" Sunburst decried the retort in mock offense.

"Every night without fail!"

Firefly continued to study Thunderlane as the others carried on. His expressions ran the gamut from amused to nervous to mortified. Like his earlier reactions in the hangar, these seemed genuine, if a bit awkward. Firefly found it easier to relax when she knew that she wouldn't have to foalsit or constantly bang heads with the neophyte.

Thunderlane finally took a sip of his drink. "Hey... this stuff IS good!"

"Told you so!" Firefly grinned. "If the Crystal Ponies can make one good thing, it's their Crystal Berry mead. You haven't drank until you've tried this stuff!"

The look on Thunderlane's face was that of pure joy. The rookie had that strange schoolboy charm about him; a bit of impeccable politeness, a dollop of naivete, all mixed in with a dash of wit. He'd said this was his first time out of the country. With his reactions, Firefly had to wonder if this was his first time with alcohol as well.

"So one thing I was wondering on my way here..." Thunderlane said as he set down his drink. "Why is this place called the Six Carat Horseshoe?"

"Ah! That's a story for the ages, isn't it?" Castle had just arrived to bus the empty flagons and bring fresh drinks for Eastwind and Sunburst.

"Here we go again!" The older pegasus rolled his eyes.

"Shhh! Let him tell it! Thunderlane hasn't heard this one before!" Eastwind pushed at Sunburst's shoulder playfully.

Thunderlane looked slightly bewildered, but listened with intent curiosity nonetheless. Firefly smirked. Castle could spin yarns with the best of them. She'd already heard this one like the others, but the tale never got any less entertaining.

"Once upon a time, there was a simple Crystal Pony and his beautiful marefriend." Castle twirled is bar rag like a sash and did his best impression of a curvy mare's walk, much to the fliers' amusement.

"The Crystal stallion treated her like a princess. He doted on her day and night and brought her everything that she could possibly want!" As he talked, he stood up on his hind hooves, pantomiming the carriage of golden serving platters and the motions of scattering bits from a pouch on the streets.

"Soon he decided that it was time to consummate their relationship. He found the finest goldsmith in the Crystal Capital and commissioned a set of golden horseshoes studded with diamonds that shone like the sun!" Castle pretended to show off his front fetlocks, as if they had just been adorned with the golden horseshoes of which he spoke.

"But all was not well." The bartender bared his teeth and reared up, doing an impression of a furious Ursa, before quickly dropping down to all four hooves.

"As it turns out that mare was a bitch and filed for a divorce!" Castle grinned a goofy grin and tapped his hoof on the table.

"Women, am I right?" Sunburst smirked at Castle. Eastwind punched him on the shoulder.

"Hold your bridles, I'm not done yet!" Castle held up a hoof to interrupt. In an instant, he was back to storytelling and pantomime. "That clever stallion got her back. He took one of those studded horseshoes and sold it off for a tidy sum," he said as he mimed dropping bits in a pouch.

"Which was enough to purchase a plot of land—" he traced a square in the air for the plot of land "—and make the down payment for building a bar."

"The bar was named the Six Carat Horseshoe in honor of the one thing from that stallion's ex-wife that actually got him somewhere!" Castle ended the story with a flourish, slinging the bar rag over his shoulders like a champion boxer would with his towel. "And that's how I came to be the proprietor of this fair establishment!"

The applause began with the customary slow claps from Sunburst. Clapping spread across the table to Firefly and then Eastwind. But then others joined in until all of the adjacent tables were applauding the performance. Each pony at the table bore the same silly grin that adorned the faces of Sunburst, Eastwind, and Firefly.

"I'm sorry for your loss?" Thunderlane's response was more of a question than a statement. Combined with his quizzical expression, it was obvious he was unsure of whether to be happy or sympathetic.

"Sorry?" Castle scoffed. "Nonsense! She was a bitch all along. I was just too blinded by her generous show of flank to notice."

Castle swung a hoof as if clocking an imaginary foe across the face. "But now I've got my own house, I own a bar, I sample alcohol and food all night, and I get to make ponies happy every day. I think this is a much better deal then being stuck with her!"

"I'm right there with you, brother!" Sunburst raised his flagon in salute before taking a hefty swig.

"Glad you're happy now, Castle," Thunderlane finally said. "Lesson learned. There's only so much you should do for flank."

"Damn straight!" Castle chuckled. "You catch on quick, kid! I like you!"

"Go take care of your other customers, Castle!" Firefly grinned as she waved him off. "The Timberwolves aren't your only patrons!"

The barkeep chuckled as he trotted off to tend to his other customers, leaving full flagons in his wake. Firefly finally began sipping at her second drink. As she put the flagon down, she continued to observe Thunderlane.

"So Thunderlane. How's your first night in country?"

"Pretty good," he replied after a quick swig of his mead. "I was used to having sterner COs from OCS and post-war deployment, but I guess I could get used to this. It's a hay of an adjustment though. So many new ponies."

"You don't know the half of it," Eastwind said. "The Timberwolves are just one flight out of a whole squadron. VFA-108 is made up of all the combat flier teams and aircrews on the Majestic."

"The Commander gave me a rundown of the order of battle while we were going over the air group's area of the ship. I don't think I'll ever remember all the other flight names."

"We don't expect you to. Hell, I don't even think Brahma remembers all of them. Guess that's what name tapes are for on our uniforms, eh?" Sunburst said.

"Guess so." Thunderlane smacked his lips as he took a long draught. "So what makes Timberwolf so special? Did I get assigned to spec ops or am I going to be cleaning latrines the rest of my deployment?"

Firefly smiled. The kid warmed up quickly. Firefly put her flagon down as she explained. "No latrine duty. Not yet, anyway. Timberwolf is the point of the spear. If the CAG needs pirates sliced, it's our job to do it."

"Good thing I took the air combat maneuvering course at Wonderbolt Academy, then!"

"You're kidding, right?" Sunburst raised an eyebrow.

"Relax, Sunshine." Firefly raised a hoof in a halting gesture. "If his credentials didn't clear, he wouldn't even be here. Unless there was some colossal snafu back at MEPS, of course. I'm hoping that's not the case. Is it?"

"No ma'am!" Thunderlane jumped to respond. "I did a quick tour out before I transferred to VFA-108. We saw light action against pirates near Trostislava."

"Good, so you know what it's like to freeze your flank off!" Firefly replied. "Just don't expect to freeze in peace. I guarantee you the highwaymares that hang out in the southlands are pussycats compared to these guys. Once you step outside that shield dome, you're fair game."

"I'll try to keep that in mind, ma'am."

Eastwind chuckled at Thunderlane. "'Ma'am this and ma'am that. They must have drilled you hard at academy, rookie!"

Thunderlane grinned sheepishly, rubbing a free hoof over his mane. Eastwind and Sunburst laughed. Firefly sniffed at the needling and said nothing further. There was a momentary pause as all squad members dipped into their drinks.

"So..." Thunderlane began again. "How long have you been flying together?"

"Since the end of the Continental War," Sunburst said.

"You're pretty much the All-Equestrians of the squadron, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that!" Firefly put a hoof to her chin and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Two out of three of us anyway. Eastwind is actually from Cirria."

"Sybaris, to be precise," Eastwind added. "I flew with the 77th before I transferred into the Alliance fleet."

"The Cirrian 77th Wing? 'Antares'?" Thunderlane was incredulous. "I heard they were the best fliers in the fleet!"

"You flatter me," Eastwind said, jokingly fanning herself with a hoof. "I actually wasn't a first string combat flier. My unit ran logistics for the 77th before the war. When one of the main line units was wiped out in a skirmish, my flight got pressed into service as a stopgap."

"Then they decided they liked her so much that they stuck her with Sunburst and I," Firefly finished. "And here we are!"

The Crystal Pony band kicked into yet another number, this time more upbeat and less ambient. Firefly buried her muzzle into her drink. Ambient before was fine. Firefly could just let it fade into the background. But this was... obnoxious.

"What's up with this weird-ass music?" Sunburst echoed Firefly's sentiment.

"Yes, because ethnic music obviously classes as weird-ass by default." Eastwind scowled at Sunburst.

Firefly could understand why. Eastwind was well-educated, well-traveled, and not natively Equestrian. Sunburst was a Manehattan U fraternity colt in spite of his age. This wouldn't have been the first time they'd disagreed over something based on fundamental differences in upbringing.

"I'm sure I'd like it more if I were a Crystal Pony." Sunburst said.

"It's music night. If you signed up, you get to play," Firefly said flatly. "I don't like it either, but you don't hear me belly-achin'. Besides..."

Scattered smatterings of applause amid the buzz of background chatter and the clinks and clanks of utensils on counter-tops were the reward of the Crystal Pony musicians, who quietly packed their instruments and trotted off stage. Before they'd even set hoof in the bar proper, however, stage hoofs had filed in from the back rooms with music stands, microphones, speakers, risers, and seats. The stage hoofs were quickly replaced with pony musicians, enough to fill out an entire Equestrian big band. With all the motion and commotion, it seemed a big production was about to take place!

"...if Crystal-y stuff isn't your cup of tea, don't worry. Moon Shine and the Sun Riders are up next!"

"She's that actress turned singer, right?" Thunderlane ventured.

"Mmmmhm!" Sunburst closed his eyes and grinned a goofy grin as if recalling some fabulous memory. "And a damned fine one if I don't say so myself!"

"Do you even remember what her face looks like, Sunshine?" Eastwind teased. "Or are you too busy 'connoisseuring' her flank?"

The sound of feedback on the microphone interrupted Sunburst's retort and drew everypony's attention to the stage. The band halted its tunings and hummings and fell silent as its final member of the band showed herself. The earth pony mare's coat was a lucious cream, accentuated by the slinky, sequined red dress that hugged her curves and shimmered as she moved. Her wavy mane and tail were by contrast a jet black that seemed to shine in the glint of the limelight. Red lipstick and sky blue eye shadow framed perfect teeth and velvet red eyes.

"Good evening fillies and colts!" She spoke with a honeyed sweetness, a deep alto that oozed sultriness and played to her military audience. "Most of you know me already, but for those who don't, I'm Moon Shine, and these fellows are the Sun Riders!"

Applause and more than a few wolf whistles went up from the now gathered crowd. Moon Shine was by all accounts well-dressed, well-proportioned, and well-aware of the effect she had on her audience. She flashed a winning smile and pulled the mic closer to her lips.

"Fighting pirates, cleaning up the streets, and training a Crystal Army can't be easy! On behalf of all Alliance nations, we thank you for your service!" The mare blew a kiss to the crowd, drawing a few smatterings of further applause. "The ESO wants to give back by giving you all a little taste of home!"

"But enough with the theatrics. I'm sure you didn't come here just to hear me talk..." She released the microphone stand, allowing it to clatter back into place. The voluptuous mare wheeled around, giving her tail a flick and her hips a shake as she stood up in front of the band. Moon Shine gave one final glance behind her and winked to the audience before counting off the band into their first number.

"Now that's more like it!" Sunburst crowed. "None of this amateur hour horseapples! Good old proper big band music!"

"I thought your ears were on your head not between your legs, Sunburst." Eastwind rolled her eyes as she teased.

As the band kicked up, the bar seemed to attract even more military patrons. Ponies, griffons, aerion, and creatures of all sorts from all different units filed in until it seemed that most of the fleet staff who were allowed shore leave were in that tiny bar.

"Is that who I think it is?"

Firefly turned her head at the familiar voice. "Forge, you son of a bitch!"

'Forge' grinned as much as a creature with a beak could grin. Firefly stood up from her seat and lifted up her front legs to embrace him. The griffon returned the bear hug, being careful to keep his talons from digging into Firefly's back.

Though Chief Warrant Officer Victor Forgewing was nearly a half-head taller than Firefly, he considered was small for his species; small for griffons meaning anything close to pony-sized. By Equestrian standards Forge might have been average height, but his barrel chest and beefy limbs kept most would-be troublemakers at bay. His feathers were an ash grey tipped with red on his pinions and his crest. The tuft on his chest was striped with black bands on its white fluff, looking almost comical with how built Forge already was.

"Firefly, you crazy spitfire!" Forgewing's low Aquellian accent immediately showed through.

"How've you been, birdlion?" Quickly breaking the embrace, Firefly hooked her fetlock through his wrist and pulled him close to bump shoulders. "After missing out on the pub crawl last week we thought they'd shipped you back to Aquellia to clean up after the nationalists!"

"That'd be too easy!" The griffon laughed. "Nah, I've been up to my elbows in gun grease and aetherdust! I should have just left tuning the repeaters to the unicorns. If I wanted to sparkle, I'd have let my daughter put glitter in my feathers!"

"Careful, Forge," Sunburst joked, throwing his barb across the table. "You might grow an extra pair of wings from the stuff!"

"Wouldn't that be something, huh? A double griffon! I'd be a living legend!" Forge pointed to Sunburst with a single talon and winked, clicking his tongue after the word 'legend.' "I'm going to clobber that seaman apprentice who decided it would be funny to plaster photos of it all over the armory office. We'll see who's laughing when I stick the master chief on his sorry arse!"

"Get 'em good, Forge," Sunburst said, waving his hoof in what could only be described as an Equestrian's best impression of a handed creature's 'thumbs up.'

"Too right," Forge nodded. "By the way, Firefly, I've been meaning to introduce you! This is my mate Atal!"

Out of the shadows behind Forgewing stepped a slender, snake-like figure. Firefly immediately recognized it as that of an adolescent dragon. While lacking the size of the elder behemoths that comprised his brethren, Atal still towered above Firefly and Forge, his body from head to tail easily being three pony-lengths long. Atal's wings were folded neatly by his side, but Firefly could still make out a soft glow that seeped out from beneath them. Firefly's eyes followed the glow out from under his wings to the strange markings on his shoulders and arms. Tattoo-like lines formed angular, unnatural patterns in his otherwise deep green scales, the lines glowing a faint blue in the dim lighting of the bar.

Firefly ruffled her wings as she looked the creature up and down. "No kidding. A sorcerer-dragon!"

Dragons were uncommon, at least to a mainland Equestrian like Firefly. She'd heard that outside the Heartland, dragons were not considered 'exotic'; apparently they mingled regularly with other ponies. But even more uncommon than normal dragons were sorcerer-dragons. Their ability to fly, fight, and cast made them valuable assets to the Alliance. Firefly had seen a few regular dragons on board ship, but this was her first time being formally introduced to one, let alone a sorcerer.

The dragon bowed politely. When he finally spoke, his words were slow, deliberate, and carefully measured. "A pleasure to meet you, commander. I am Lieutenant Junior Grade Atal al-Adria."

"Atal, Atal, we're off duty!" Firefly held her hoof up in a halting gesture. "I hate being called commander when I've got a drink in hoof! Makes me feel like I'm still in charge or something! Forge has said a lot about you! Guess you're some kind of genius?"

"Genius, no," Atal chuckled softly. "Well-read, yes."

"Humble, too!" Firefly laughed.

"Don't let his bookworm looks fool you, Firefly, he's a killer in there!" Forge smirked.

"The only killing I do is on the numbers. I work with the arcanist teams handling artifacts for the Crystal Ponies."

"Color me impressed." Firefly whistled to emphasize her remark. "I never took dragons to be the intellectual type."

"Much like how most creatures never took Equestrians to be the fighting type?" A subtle smirk crossed the dragon's face. "There are two sides to every coin, Firefly. You may have seen my kind be ferocious brutes and cunning tacticians, but I serve my unit best as a simple scholar."

"Scales, hooves, beaks, and claws! We're all one big happy family!" Forge cawed. "Isn't PEACE a beautiful thing?"

"I can never call it PEACE with a straight face." As if to drive home the point, Firefly put a hoof to her lips to suppress a snicker. "Seriously, who comes up with these names?"

"PEACE" was the acronym for the Pax Equestria Allied Commerce Entente, or as Firefly liked to put it, "the most pretentious possible name anypony could give a group of nations." The name predated both the Continental War and Firefly's military career, though years of use had corrupted it to "The Alliance" among military circles or more rarely, "Pax Equestria." Either was preferable to PEACE — at least to Firefly.

"Probably some wowser like the captain, amiright?" Forge chuckled.

"Can't disagree there."

"Speaking of the cap'n, I heard he went off again today."

Firefly's eyes narrowed. "And where did you hear that?"

"Hangar crew. A couple of the blokes working on the ARC ships said he gave one of the squads a sound thrashing today."

"Oh, so you heard..."

Forge cocked his head to the side in puzzlement. It took a moment before understanding finally set in. "That was you?"

"Regrettably." Firefly snorted in annoyance as thoughts of the encounter flashed through her head again.

"I am told this is the usual treatment for senior officers." Atal said.

"Only for those who don't fly under the radar with him. Unfortunately, Skywind seems to have developed a taste for combat fliers. He should know by now that we operate best when we're given the license to do what we do best."

"I empathize," Atal nodded in sympathy. "My old commanding officer in Stalliongrad was the same way. He micromanaged everything down to the last detail."

"It's a bitch, isn't it?" Firefly spat. "If I wanted my reins yanked, I'd pay for it and I sure as hell wouldn't have Skywind be the one doing it!"

The swinging of the doors was bearly audible against the backdrop of the Sun Riders' tunes and the constant chatter of bar patrons. But the moment the newcomers stepped into the bar, the chatter went silent, leaving the band playing into dead air. The palpable change in atmosphere immediately attracted Firefly's attention. The commander squinted to see past the faerie lamp lit tables closer to the door. Her gaze swept across her squad's table, showing that the other Timberwolves were just as fixated upon the new arrivals as she was. A low growl issued from Firefly's throat as recognition set in.

"I think that's our cue to get going..." Forge said in a low voice. "I'll try to catch you after the show, Firefly."

"Stay out of trouble, birdlion. You too, Atal." Though she addressed the two, her eyes continued to be fixed upon the newcomers.

"I will do my best, Firefly."

Firefly immediately trotted back to her table. As she approached, Thunderlane turned around slowly, continuing to sneak glances at the arrivals out of the corner of his eye, as if breaking line of sight would result in immediate aggression. "Should we be worried? They look like they mean trouble."

Four dragons sauntered past the Timberwolves' table, taking seats at a table in the near corner of the bar. As they did, Firefly recalled that upon their arrival at the Horseshoe, that table had been empty and had indeed remained unoccupied even when the bar had begun to fill with guests wanting to see Moon Shine. The dragons ran a full spectrum of colors: red, blue, green, and gold. Each one was also far from behemoth-sized, but still larger than Atal, being both taller and more muscular.

Unlike Atal, who wore the canvas flight jacket common to other Alliance fliers, these dragons clinked and clanked as they moved. Segmented gold metallic armor plate covered thier chests. The jangling noise came from woven baldrics tucked into studded leather belts upon which were suspended coin-like ornaments. At first, it appeared that they were all wearing cloaks, but these were quickly revealed to be their wings folded upon their backs. The dragons ignored the rest of the ponies, proceeding to their table as if they were the only patrons in the bar.

"They're Alliance," Firefly spat as she took her seat, finally answering Thunderlane's question. "Doesn't mean we have to like 'em, though."

"Who are those guys?" Thunderlane asked, cocking his head to the side quizzically.

"You see that emblem?" Firefly pointed to the shoulder pauldron of one of the dragons. Closer inspection revealed a roundel with a sword piercing a snake's skull that had sprouted a pair of demon's wings. "They're from the Pyrian Asymmetric Conflict Group."

"Special Operations Forces?"

"Tier One."

"I thought we got our SOF support from Stalliongrad Guard and Royal Equestrian SF."

"We do." Firefly snorted as though the very thought drew her ire. "The Pyrians decided it wasn't enough, so they sent their own SOF teams with us. The admiral wasn't happy."

"If they're good enough to get a Tier One designation, we should be glad to have them on our side..." Thunderlane slowed as he spoke, uncertain of whether to sate his curiosity or let the subject go. "Right?"

"Not these guys," Eastwind filled in for Firefly. "ACG knows their stuff, but we've never seen anypony act like more of a flankhole over it than them."

"It's not all about body counts and performance numbers, kid," Sunburst said, "as much as the Captain tries to make it out that way. Team dynamics are important, too, and these guys only seem to play for themselves."

"The captain is Pyrian, too, right?" Thunderlane's ear flicked as he tried to recall everything he'd learned that day. "Is he ACG?"

"Pfft." Firefly pursed her lips and forced a sputter. "His pasty ass isn't tough enough for ACG. I'm pretty sure he had some connections in the Pyrian Council of Regents to get him aboard the Majestic, especially as Captain."

Thunderlane leaned his elbows on the table and perched his head on his hooves. The rookie's furrowed brow indicated that he was deep in thought. The rest of the Timberwolves nursed their drinks in silence, stealing furtive glances at the dragon team several tables over between sips. Even the music seemed to fade, becoming listless noise in the background. Finally, Thunderlane spoke.

"What's up with you guys and the Pyrians anyway?"

Firefly and Eastwind looked at each other, then to Sunburst. The elder flier merely shook his head and waved them off with a hoof. Firefly sniffed in vexation.

"They're rich beyond our wildest dreams," she began. Her emphasis of the pronoun and forceful tonality made her disdain immediately clear. "They have money, they have tech, and they have political clout, so they act like they run the whole damn Alliance. It's like they already forgot that Equestria bailed them out of a world war or something."

"Isn't the CAG from Pyre, too?"

"Not by a longshot. Brahma went to Naval Academy in Pyre for conversion training, but she's full-blooded Equestrian. Grew up in Canterlot, if memory serves me."

"So being from Pyre automatically makes you soulless?"

"Damn close. They care about making money, keeping themselves safe, and not much else."

Thunderlane shook his head at Firefly's prognosis. The look on his face reflected his incredulity. Was this what R&R was supposed to be like? The rookie flier stood up from his seat. "This is a little too heavy for me. I'm hitting the dance floor. Maybe Stormy will still be over there."

"Go get her, tiger!" Eastwind goaded.

While Sunburst and Eastwind continued to dip into their drinks, Firefly left her flagon alone, instead closing her eyes and breathing a long sigh. She felt a twinge of guilt for railing about her issues with Pyrian politics. After all, she'd once been in Thunderlane's horseshoes; far from home, dropped in a jumble of ponies who were expected to work together not because they wanted to but because their survival depended upon it. Thunderlane was starting fresh, he didn't need to be burdened with the previous war's baggage. A sudden eruption of laughter from the dragons' table broke Firefly out of her reverie.

"You know, someone of my abilities could make a killing out there on the open market!" The red dragon boasted. This one was of stockier build, being similar to Atal in height but nearly twice as wide at the shoulder. His arms and legs held substantial muscle and, if Firefly squinted into the dim light, faded battle scars.

"I hear that overseas they're looking for mercenaries!" He continued. "I bet I could make double what the Alliance is paying us for this job!"

"Wishful thinking." The response was clipped and flat, bordering on apathetic. "With the Alliance moving in on everything, there won't be any mercenary business left in a few years."

The speaker was a blue dragon, a female judging by her timbre of voice and slimmer, more lithe frame. Firefly's eyes narrowed as her vision fell upon the glowing gold lines traced across the dragonness' scales. ACG had a sorcerer-dragon.

"In fact," the dragonness contined, seemingly unaware she was being watched, "I'd argue that the more goody goody you get, the worse the underworld becomes. Evil always finds a place to rest its head. Sometimes, it's in places you don't expect it to be."

"More firepower will solve that in two shakes," the red one sneered.

"You can't fire blast every problem away, Khog!" The blue dragon snorted in mock disdain.

"Nonsense, Roshina! When at first you don't succeed, call ACG and we'll make the problem disappear!" Khog's laugh was quickly joined by the others.

"There's more to statecraft than warfighting, Khog," Roshina said, finally allowing a chuckle at her squadmate's enthusiastic responses. "Scorched earth isn't exactly conducive to an Equestrian invasion!"

"Invasion?" Khog scoffed. "More like vacation! At least the fighting's good when we get it!"

Firefly snorted at their rhetoric. To be anti-war was one thing. To disparage a security operation at the behest of the host nation was another entirely. Pyrian arrogance knew no bounds.

"I can't hear horseapples over here with them yammering on like that!" Sunburst growled.

"Leave 'em, Sunshine," Eastwind said, waving him down. "Dragons are as dragons do."

"And they'd do best to shut up!" Sunburst leaped to his hooves, nearly stumbling over the cushion as he did so. His inattentiveness to personal volume and poorly coordinated hoofwork immediately marked him as inebrieted. Sunburst had just hit the critical mass of drink.

"Oh for the love of — "

Firefly didn't get the chance to finish her epithet. Before any of the other Timberwolves could grab him, Sunburst had departed his seat and strode right up to the dragons' table. Firefly put her hoof to her forehead and sighed in exasperation before giving chase.

"Hey scaly! Keep your blabbermouthing down! Some of us are actually here for the show!" Sunburst's rebuke was rude and to the point.

Khog halted mid-conversation, pausing for a moment before standing up from his seat. As he turned around, he stood up to his full height and spread his wings, enlarging his silhouette even further. In the dancing glow of fairie light, Khog seemed to grow to unfathomable size, towering over Sunburst in both stature and build. The older stallion remained unfazed, however, his courage inflated to titanic levels by his alcohol intake.

"Good! You can actually hear me over yourself!" Sunburst continued to needle him.

"Let me ask you something, little pony," Khog snarled angrily, pausing a moment before his question for extra emphasis. "How quickly would you like to die?"

"I don't intend to," Sunburst shot back. He pointed with a hoof, wobbling on the other three. "You still didn't answer my question."

"Sunburst!" Firefly hissed at the stallion and hooked her front leg around his, dragging him away before giving him a shove back toward their table. Sunburst stumbled while attempting to regain his footing, tripping and tumbling until he finally ended up face-first on his cushion seat, where he stayed for the time being.

"Apologies for the interruption," Firefly said flatly, before turning around to trot back to her table. "As you were."

"Arrogant ponies!" Khog snarled angrily, wisps of smoke blowing out of his nostrils, stinging Firefly's olfactories with the pungent odor of burning phosphorus. "Always thinking you own everything! Whether it's countries, contracts, or tables at a damned bar!"

Firefly stopped dead. Even though it was technically Sunburst's fault for being stupid drunk, Khog's last statement really got under Firefly's skin. How dare he! They were the ones who acted like they owned the place! If Firefly were the owner of the Horseshoe, she would've given them the boot long ago!

"Excuse me?" Firefly whirled around and glared at Khog, meeting his gaze with the same laser beam stare that she'd matched with Skywind earlier that day.

"You heard me," Khog glowered. "You will not tell us what to do at our own table. We sent for it ahead of time, so we will do as we please with it!"

"Wrong, lieutenant." Firefly shot back, giving a quick glance at the dragon's rank tab. "Need I remind you that you work for the Alliance? I don't care if you're Pyrian, Equestrian, Aquellian, or mud. You — "

"I don't take orders from little ponies like — "

"Shut your hay hole when I'm talking, boy!" Firefly snapped, jabbing Khog in the chest with a hoof and looking him right in the eye. "You listen to me, lieutenant. You can take your patronizing and shove it up your scaly ass! The second you signed that contract, you chose to represent something greater than yourself, so act like it! If you're not going to do it to win hearts and minds, at least do it to stay out of trouble!"

Khog growled a guttural growl, blowing additional smoke at Firefly, his claws balled as if he was about to punch her in the face. Firefly's eyes burned from the smoke, but she stood her ground, her wings partially opened and her hooves light on the ground, ready to counterattack if Khog made a false move. Moments dragged into seconds as the pony and the dragon stared each other down. Finally, a blue claw crossed in front of Khog, pushing him back as Roshina stepped in front of him.

"You'll have to forgive Khog's enthusiasm." In stark contrast to Khog, Roshina's address was unnervingly calm, a hint of amusement playing at the edge of her voice. "He's very excited about the prospect of cutting his teeth on things that test his mettle. He means you no harm."

Firefly glared back at Roshina. "I would hardly consider implicitly threatening to roast me alive 'meaning me no harm.'"

"To be fair, he was minding his own business until your stallion came over to — shall we say — 'admonish' him." Roshina gestured toward Sunburst's passed-out form, still face down on the cushion.

"And to be fair to Sunburst, Khog was being highly disruptive," Firefly countered. "I'm going to repeat what I said to Khog. We're not in the Crystal Empire to make asses of ourselves."

"Again, I can counterpoint with your stallion."

"That stallion can be fixed with a night's rest and a cold shower. I'm not sure how you're going to fix Khog..." Firefly said. Khog snarled ferally and pressed forward, a balled fist again threatening Firefly's face. Once more, Roshina pushed him back, keeping herself between Khog and Firefly.

"Patience, Khog," Roshina said. "Fisticuffs will not solve this problem, either."

Despite her impassiveness, Roshina maintained a presence that was nearly overwhelming. Her entire countenance exuded cool confidence, as if it were a simple matter of fact that everything she spoke of was the truth. Even Khog was prompted to rein himself in and back away. To Firefly, this was highly disconcerting. She felt something strange in the pit of her stomach, a feeling that she couldn't quite place as she looked Roshina in the eye.

"How about this," Roshina continued. "Why don't we go back to the way it was before? You tend to your table and your ponies and I tend to my table and my dragons. We can pretend we never had this little spat and get on with our lives."

"Yes. Let's." Firefly said through her teeth.

"I'm glad we could agree on something." Roshina grinned a toothy grin. "Pleasant evening to you, Lieutenant Commander... Firefly."

By the time Roshina had bid her farewell, Firefly was already trotting back to her table. The flier gritted her teeth. She'd finally placed that feeling. It was guilt. Not just regular guilt from regretful action, the self-doubting kind of guilt; the feeling that she was wrong even if she wasn't at fault. Firefly shivered as she settled back into her seat. She prided herself on being able to stare down death and make him blink. She could gun and knife fight a thousand pirates without batting an eye. But Roshina's presence somehow shook her — and she didn't like it.

Upon return to her squadmates, an awkward silence settled over the table. Thunderlane had since ventured off to the dance floor, where he could be seen with the celeste-coated mare from earlier, dancing to a slow tune from the band. Eastwind was busy watching over Sunburst, who remained face-down in his cushion, and Firefly could do little more than stare at her drink and brood. Meanwhile, the Pyrian dragons continued to carry on as if nothing had happened.

The silence was broken by Thunderlane's return. The rookie chattered excitedly with his dance partner as they approached, completely oblivious as to what had just transpired. He was clearly excited, accentuated by the band kicking into an upbeat number for the swing dancers near the stage.

"Guys! You should totally get out on the dance floor! Moon Shine's got some really awesome numbers pl—" Thunderlane stopped mid-sentence as he saw the state of the table. "I missed something didn't I?"

Eastwind looked at Firefly, who barely acknowledged Thunderlane's arrival. The Cirrian lieutenant patted Sunburst on the head before turning to Thunderlane. "What was your first clue?"

"What happened?"

"Sunburst tried to pick a fight with a dragon." Eastwind's reply was matter of fact, seeming to imply that this was what usually happened when Sunburst got too drunk.

"I thought the old sire could hold his liquor?" Thunderlane cocked an eyebrow.

Eastwind shook her head. "He wishes he could. This isn't junior year at Manehattan U."

"I can hold my liquor just fine, thank you!" Sunburst slurred as he suddenly sat back up. Eastwind sighed and Firefly mumbled something unintelligible — but disapproving nonetheless — into her flagon. Despite his vehement denial, it was clear Sunburst was no longer in any shape to continue the night.

"I... should probably go," Thunderlane's companion said, an awkward smile on her face. The pegasus mare backpedaled a few steps before turning around and promptly trotting off. Thunderlane opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out at first.

"I'll... see you around..." He managed as she wandered out of earshot. Thunderlane was crestfallen. His ears drooped and he let out a long sigh as he sat down on the cushion and allowed his forehead to hit the table's surface.

"Stupid, stupid," he mumbled to himself before picking up his flagon and finishing off the rest of his mead in one long gulp.

"Yes," Firefly finally spoke clearly, answering a question that had not yet been asked. "It's been that kind of night."

"I think Sunburst has had enough fun for now," Eastwind said. "We should probably get him back to the ship. I can have Castle call us a cab."

"We'll manage," Firefly said as she stood from her seat. "This wouldn't have been the first time we've dragged his drunken flank back to his bunk. C'mon, chief! Up and at 'em!"

"I am not a geriatric! I can walk myself!" Sunburst slurred in reply.

"I'm sure you can, chief. Why don't you lead us back to the ship?" Firefly motioned with her head and slipped under Sunburst's left front leg, draping it over her shoulder like a wagon yoke. Eastwind mirrored her action on the other side until they could prop Sunburst up on his hind legs and walk him home, however slowly.

"Clear us a path, rookie. MEDEVAC, coming through!" Eastwind snarked.

"Ah, right." Thunderlane was hesitant, but assumed point nonetheless. With polite excuses and gentle nudges of his hooves, he parted the coming and going ponies and cleared a path to the door.

"Oi!" The greeting came from Forge, who had taken a seat at a table near the door. "Firefly! Where are you off to? The night is still young!"

"Not for the chief, I'm afraid," Firefly grunted. "Besides, I've got PT in full battle rattle scheduled for tomorrow at the flank crack of dawn. Wasn't planning on staying the whole night anyway."

"Right then. See you tomorrow?"

"Oh-seven hundred. I need you to do some tweaks to my RA-16 before our flight."

"Again? I just replaced the scram rails and recalibrated the aethero-optical resonator the other day! Girls and their guns, I swear!"

"Oh-seven hundred, birdlion! I'll see you in the machine shop!"

Forgewing made a mock expression of disgust and raised a middle claw at Firefly, to which she replied by sticking her tongue out. As she hefted Sunburst upon her shoulders once again, Firefly waved goodbye to Forge and exchanged nods of acknowledgement with Atal. Finally, the Timberwolves made their way out of the bar.

As the Timberwolves left earshot of the Six Carat Horseshoe, the sounds of music and revelry grew faint. The brilliant lights of the market district faded into the night, replaced by the dim flicker of fairie lanterns strung up along the main streets. The walk back to the carrier was was conducted in silence.

The quiet gave Firefly time to think. Something else that Roshina had said that night didn't sit well with her. An Equestrian invasion. The words turned over and over in Firefly's head as she walked. In a roundabout sort of way, Roshina was right. A once-proud nation now had foreign soldiers walking its streets and foreign warships flying its skies. The last time this happened in Firefly's lifetime, the Griffons had almost taken over the entire Equestrian continent. Nopony hesitated to call that an invasion.

Firefly had never considered herself much of a patriot, but she held to the basic belief that Equestria was doing something right in the world. After all, in the wake of the Continental War, they could very easily have left the griffons to fend for themselves. Yet they did not. Prior to her deployment to the Crystal Empire, Firefly was even offered a posting at Fort Ventus, the new joint operations center being built in Aquellia to further cement Griffon-Equestrian relations. She didn't fight for supremacy, she fought for Harmony.

Or so she liked to tell herself. Firefly grunted as she continued to lug Sunburst's inebrieted form through the streets. For all the trouble it was, she was thankful that he'd passed out inside the shield dome instead of running out into the cold. Firefly was actually working up a sweat dragging him back home. It was a welcome distraction from the thoughts that harried her.

"I'm awake! I'm awake!" Sunburst slurred his way through the security gates to the fleet base, making Firefly shake her head. "Put me down, Windy!"

Operating Base Topaz was located at the southwest point of the Crystal Capital. Firefly could still make out shallow furrows and unfinished irrigation canals on the base outskirts — the last vestiges of a berry farm that was built over when the Alliance was granted the land for use as a fleet operations center. The Majestic lay docked to mooring towers just inside the gates, the vessel's superstructure casting long shadows upon the Timberwolves as they returned "home."

"Hello, Awake," Eastwind teased Sunburst. "I'm Eastwind!"

"Jackass." Sunburst nearly tripped as they boarded the lift at the base of the mooring tower.

"Does this happen every squadron night?" Thunderlane asked quietly.

Firefly looked to him as Eastwind and Sunburst continued to prattle on. "Sunburst getting hammered? Absolutely. Sunburst picking a fight with dragons? Not so much."

"If you guys and ACG are both regulars at the Horseshoe, I'm surprised it isn't a regular occurence."

"Well, that's the thing. ACG usually doesn't go anywhere near the Horseshoe. To be honest, nopony does. We're the only real regulars. Us and Forge's boys anyway. You just lucked out. Castle decided to accept the offer of hosting an ESO show, so everypony ended up there tonight."

"Right." Thunderlane shrugged. "Well, at least dancing was fun!"

Firefly barely cracked a smile. Thunderlane wasn't so bad. Staying positive had to count for something after all. "Glad somepony had a good time tonight."

"You should have gone out on the dance floor, too, Firefly!" Thunderlane suddenly said.

"I don't dance, kid," Firefly said, shaking her head.

"What? They tell me you're an ace flier... and you can't dance?"

Firefly raised an eyebrow. "Air combat maneuvering is different from dancing, kid."

"I mean yeah of course firefights and fast flight are different, but if you've got the coordination to do ACM, you've got the coordination for some simple swing dance. The steps aren't too hard. I could even teach you!"

Firefly chuckled. "Thanks for the offer, but no."

"You'll change your mind eventually, ma'am."

"Thunderlane, what did I say about calling me — "

"I'm not drunk!" Sunburst slurred as the halting of the lift jolted him into momentary consciousness.

Firefly put her hoof to her forehead again. Sunburst was still drunk. It was time to get him to bed. Firefly and Eastwind repeated their actions at the bar, lifting Sunburst onto their shoulders and dragging him out of the lift and down the corridor toward the male crew quarters. The elder stallion complained the whole way with half unintelligible babble and the other half slurred curses.

"Sleep it off, old sire!" Firefly said as she lifted Sunburst one last time and rolled him into his bunk. She went over to his foot locker and removed a canteen, placing it next to his pillow. "Remember to hydrate when you get up tomorrow. We've still got PT hangover or no hangover!"

Before Firefly had even finished, however, Sunburst was fast asleep, his snoring echoing throughout the bunk block. The lieutenant commander let out a tired sigh. It was time to hit the hay herself.

"PT is at 0830 tomorrow," she said, addressing Thunderlane and Eastwind. "Thunderlane, please do me a favor and kick Sunburst's drunken flank out of bed since he's sure to sleep through his alarm."

"Got it. I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yup. Oh-eight thirty. Don't be late." Firefly turned and stepped out the hatch with Eastwind in tow.

Firefly detoured into the head, the crew quarters' head, trotting over to the sink to splash water on her face. One quick glance in the mirror was telling. Sacks clung to her eyes and a weary miasma seemed to hover about her head like a wayward stormcloud. Firefly shivered as the cold water struck her skin. Skywind. Roshina. The flight back. The day was very taxing on her. Firefly wanted to sleep, but she also knew what sleep brought.

"You okay?" Eastwind's question was accompanied by a hoof rested upon Firefly's shoulder. Her touch was soft as her voice. In spite of her mischeivious nature, Eastwind could still be nurturing when she needed to be.

"I'm fine. Just tired." Firefly's response was sluggish, genuinely mirroring her words. Her bones seemed to ache and even her shoulder felt tender under Eastwind's touch. Despite her discomfort, Firefly hesitated to brush Eastwind's hoof aside.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"Wasn't your fault, Windy," Firefly sighed, finally collecting herself enough to push the hoof off her shoulder. "Sunburst just can't hold his drink like he used to."

"I meant ACG. Gods know that Sunburst hasn't been able to hold his drink since he got out of Manehattan U." Eastwind's wan smile when speaking of Sunburst lifted the mood, if only slightly.

"Dragons are as dragons do." Firefly's eyes remained firmly fixed upon her reflection. "Nothing I can do to change that."

"I just wanted to make sure you were all right," Eastwind continued, also taking a glance at Firefly's reflection. "I know that look."

"What look?" Firefly propped her hooves up against the sink and closed her eyes, allowing what was left of the water to drip off her muzzle.

"That look you get when something bugs you but you don't want to let anypony see it." Eastwind gave her a sidelong glance.

Firefly gritted her teeth, but didn't move. She was a leader, a fighter. She didn't let things bother her. Even if they did, she had more important things to worry about than dragons and their petty games. Why couldn't Eastwind see that?

"I'm fine," she repeated. "Just tired."

Eastwind sighed. "You know I worry about you."

"Don't."

"I'll try not to," Eastwind said softly before trotting off to her bunk. "But just remember that I'm here if you need me, Firefly."

Opening her eyes again, Firefly stared long and hard at her reflection in the mirror. A multitude of thoughts and feelings danced across her eyes. She was better than this. She didn't have room for uncertainty. Firefly never wanted to worry Eastwind. She never wanted to worry anypony. Leaders didn't make their company worry, they were the ones who worried, but brought their company home in spite of it. Firefly shook her head one last time to throw off the persistent droplets that still clung to her muzzle — and perhaps the thoughts that clung to her mind.

With a weighty sigh, Firefly trotted back to the crew quarters, where Eastwind was already fast asleep in her bunk. The lieutenant commander shed her jacket and uniform shirt, tossing them at the far end of her bunk where she'd retrieve them in the morning. The coarse cotton of the sheets was strangely comforting after a day's labor. A twist of her hooves wrapped the sheets around her and lined her head up with her pillow. Firefly glanced one more time at the squad photograph perched upon her foot locker.

Firefly closed her eyes, shutting out the thoughts that the image evoked. She tossed and turned as she struggled to push them away. There were more important things to worry about than old memories. With a deep breath and a face full of pillow, Firefly recanted her PT schedule for the next day in her head, using the comfort of lists and routines to calm her down. Her thoughts mollified for now, Firefly slowly drifted into fitful slumber.

3. Inferno

View Online

The day dawned clear. Though it was still early when they left the Majestic, the sun was already high in the arctic summer sky as the Timberwolves flew northwest. The spastic chatter of machinery and the idle babble of sailors and marines going about their daily business gave way to wispy breaths of cold wind and the low hum of the ARC ship's engines.

"I thought PT was just flying laps around the base and doing wing-ups on the carrier deck!"

"When the Admiral says your next CAP is out near FOB Onyx after PT, your next CAP is out near FOB Onyx after PT!" Firefly snapped. "Quit your belly-achin'!"

Firefly was on edge. If it weren't for the cold wind whipping at her face, she would likely be flying half-asleep. Her prior assumption that time away from the ship would help her was gravely mistaken. She'd been so close to being able to sleep normally again, but yesterday with all its drama had very nearly undone everything. Firefly snorted in contempt of herself. She was strong. She would get through this, just like she did before.

Firefly focused on the task on hoof. Her squad was riding the frigid bow wave of the ARC ship on their way to Forward Operating Base Onyx, one of several bases scattered throughout Alliance territory in the frontier. "FOBs," as they were called in Navy parlance, served as fuel and ammunition dumps for Alliance airships and layover lodging for patrols entering and leaving the Outer Rim of Crystal Empire influence. That meant a quick breather, a hot meal, and with any luck, coffee upon arrival.

"Look on the bright side, Sunshine," Eastwind said. "We get to tour the Outer Rim for forty-eight hours instead of a month this time!"

"Always the optimist, Windy," Sunburst scowled.

Firefly sighed at Sunburst's less than enthused reply. She felt very much the same. "A temporary duty station," the CAG had called it. Their instructions were to fill in for a team stationed at Onyx that had suffered casualties. No action was expected, but it wouldn't do to leave an exploitable gap in the perimeter. With all other squads assigned, the Timberwolves had been pulled from garrison duty and placed back out on the line until proper relief could be brought in. Thankfully, it was only for one night instead of the month they had just spent away from Main Operating Base Topaz.

As the two carried on, Firefly looked to Thunderlane. The rookie remained quiet during their flight. From the steady gait of his wingbeats, he appeared to be well rested. The nervousness from the previous day had evaporated. If Thunderlane looked to be anything, it was thoughtful.

"Something on your mind, rookie?" Firefly asked.

"It's just my first time being this far north. It's really something else, commander."

"It's almost like you don't even notice the cold!" Firefly couldn't help but crack a smile at Thunderlane's wide-eyed fascination with the world they flew through. His naive sentiments were refreshing in the midst of Firefly's own troubles.

"How about you send some of that gusto my way, kid?" Sunburst called back over his shoulder. "I'm dyin' over here!"

"Still hung over, Sunshine?" Eastwind teased.

"No!" Sunburst huffed. It was enough to elicit a collective chuckle from the squad. He waited a beat before sheepishly adding, "....well, maybe a little..."

"ARC Vessel Storm Warden, this is Onyx Control, how copy, over." The voice of the base's air boss came over the airwaves, interrupting the squad's banter.

"Storm Warden copies, Onyx Control," the ARC pilot replied. "We are five klicks north of Waypoint Scepter, inbound to FOB Onyx, ETA six minutes."

"Understood Storm Warden. We have you on the scope. Continue your present course. We'll see you in six. Onyx Control, out."

FOB Onyx appeared as a collection of blocks on the horizon, but rapidly grew in size as the Timberwolves approached. Shadowed lines resolved themselves into snow and rock-filled barrier walls and toothpick-like projections became radio antennas and radar masts. Thickly insulated huts rose from the ground, connected by rat-maze-like tubes to seal in warmth while traveling between buildings. In the southeast corner of the base stood large airship hangars, each capable of accommodating several ARC vessels or heavy gunships. Mooring towers allowed larger ships to anchor themselves to weather the frequent polar storms.

The perimeter of the FOB was outlined by a series of earthworks bastions housing heavy artillery pieces. Spaced between were smaller gun pits with open turrets mounting the familiar Equestrian repeating cannons. The guns were all pointed skyward in expectation of an aerial attack, as a ground assault in the unforgiving terrain was highly unlikely.

"There it is. Thank gods, too." Sunburst's relief was obvious. "If I don't get my hooves back on the ground soon, I'm going to hurl!"

"Drink water, flap it off, old sire," Firefly said with a smirk.

"Onyx Control, this is Storm Warden. We have visual contact. Request permission to land, over." The ARC ship radio operator's voice dominated the airwaves.

"Storm Warden, this is Onyx Control," came the reply. "You are cleared for landing. Approach from the south and make your way to landing pad two. We'll see you on the ground."

"Roger that, Control. See you soon."

"Storm Warden, this is Wolf lead," Firefly said as soon as Onyx disconnected. "Head to the hangars. We need to check in with base command."

"Not to mention get coffee and chow!" Eastwind chimed in.

The ARC ship radio mare chuckled lightly. "We'll take care of the ship, Firefly. Enjoy your horseapples on a shingle!"

Firefly's stomach growled at the thought. They hadn't even eaten breakfast before they'd received the order to move out. Even rehydrated bulgur on toast, commonly called "horseapples on a shingle," sounded appealing right then. Anything beat MREs and powdered coffee.

"I've never been so happy to see rehydrated wheat in my life!" Sunburst said excitedly, barely finishing the sentence before diving into his breakfast.

"Hangover munchies," Eastwind said, rolling her eyes. "Horseapples on a shingle isn't my thing. Give me some fresh apples any day..."

Firefly began eating as well, though not as enthusiastically as Sunburst. The coffee was far more important to her than the food. Caffeine was a poor substitute for a good night's rest, but it would have to do. The drink filled her belly and warmed her from the inside. Firefly sighed as she found it a little easier to keep her eyes open.

She glanced over to where Thunderlane and Eastwind chatted away between bites of bulgur, but she hardly heard any of the conversation. Instead, her attention was diverted to the brusque click-clack of metal on concrete flooring. Firefly craned her neck and pushed herself up a little on the cafeteria stool in an effort to track the noise. Her eyes wandered to the door. The heavy metallic clacks halted. Firefly's eyes fell upon a griffon officer, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, as if she'd been milled from a solid block of steel.

"MAJOR ON THE DECK!"

A massive shuffle of hooves and talons went up as the entire cafeteria jumped out of their seats and snapped to attention. Firefly's eyes locked to the griffonness' armor. The set was just as impressive as its wearer. The armored suit was oversized and archaically-styled, reminiscent of knight armors of old. Its plating was anodized black, its surface neatly polished and trimmed with gold filigree. Even with the polish, however, the griffoness' suit bore myriad scars that obstinately refused to buff out, indications that she was one to lead from the front lines.

"As you were!" The Major barked. But her reply went unnoticed by Firefly.

Ironclad. The name rang clearly in Firefly's head. For a moment the cafeteria around her vanished. Raging stormclouds took its place, the space between filled with the dark pockmarks of flak. The acrid smell of metal salts mixed with ozone filled her nostrils. The silent scream filled her ears.

"Firefly..." The touch of Thunderlane's hoof and the sound of his voice jarred Firefly back into reality. She blinked a few times, slowly coming to the realization that she was the last one standing out of all the soldiers in the cafeteria. She quickly glanced around and slid back into her seat.

"You okay, boss?"

"I'll be fine once I've finished my morning dose of wakeup juice," Firefly grumbled in response. With one swift motion, Firefly gulped down the rest of her coffee, slamming the mug back down onto the table as she finished.

"Uh, Firefly?"

Ignoring Thunderlane's concern, Firefly motioned to the griffon major with a hoof. "You ever want to see an Ironclad up close, rookie? Check it out, 'cuz this is one of the few you'll get to see who isn't trying to kill you or run you into the ground during aggressor training."

There was an awkward beat of silence. Firefly's eyes rapidly darted around the table, first to Eastwind's concerned frown, then to Thunderlane's quizzical expression, and finally to Sunburst's oblivious stare. It was obvious that he was still focused on the new arrival.

Sunburst let out a low whistle in awe. "I thought I recognized that profile. That's Major Isla Vanderfalke. She was an Aquellian Loyalist who made ace during Argent Battery assault."

"She..." Thunderlane trailed off as he gave Firefly a sidelong glance. "... looks like she means business."

"Always does," Sunburst continued, still entirely inattentive to the silent conversation that had just transpired. "Make sure you pay her respects, kid. She was out there taking down Nationalists before you were even out of boot camp."

"Noted..."

Firefly sighed softly. She needed another coffee. Before she could left the table to get one, she took one last glance at the major. The armored griffonness swiveled her head around as if looking for someone. Her eyes scanned the cafeteria, moving from table to table until they finally came to rest on Firefly. The commander shuddered slightly, but quickly regained her composure. As it became clear that Vanderfalke was headed straight for her table, Firefly stood once again, snapping to attention and bringing her right hoof up in salute. It looked like she had more pressing concerns than her state of caffeination.

"Squad, atten-HUT!" The Timberwolves scrambled from their seats at the order, snapping to attention and following Firefly in her salute.

The major stopped in front of Firefly, quietly returning her salute before dismissing it. "Lieutenant Commander Firefly?"

"Major Vanderfalke," Firefly replied. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Good to have you here, commander," the griffonness smiled, extending a talon to shake. Firefly quickly glanced up and down at her counterpart in surprise before completing her part of the hoofshake. "I just thought it would be prudent to introduce myself to the new arrivals personally."

"The pleasure is ours. At ease, Timberwolves." As she freed her squad to sit down again, Firefly allowed herself an inner sigh of relief. Vanderfalke's relaxed command would not be nearly as bad as Skywind on the Majestic, though she supposed that had something to do with Vanderfalke and herself being the same pay grade. "You have breakfast yet, Major? We were just working on ours and we have an open seat at the table!"

The griffonness chuckled and took a seat. "I had brunch already, but thanks for the offer. Bulgur isn't my thing anyway..."

"It's not for everypony. Or griffon for that matter." The offhand remark was enough to get a wan smirk from the major.

Vanderfalke glanced at the rest of the squad who had since taken to burying their faces in their food. "You were placed at ease, soldiers. Don't worry, I don't bite!"

There was a pause before Eastwind finally responded. "We're not used to having a personable commandant is all."

"I get that a lot when the fleet sends CAPs my way. Something I should know about happening back in Crystal Spire?"

"Just the same old office drama, major," Firefly said.

"Isla, please."

"Isla." Firefly rolled her tongue after speaking, as if to see if the name was palatable. Gesturing to direct the major's attention to each of her squadmates, she introduced them one after another. "Lieutenant Eastwind, my second. Chief Petty Officer Sunburst. My new trainee Lieutenant Junior Grade Thunderlane."

"Pleasure to meet you all. FleetCOM's been good about sending non-troublemakers my way. I only wish we didn't have to keep cycling them through."

Vanderfalke's expression hardened as she spoke the last few words. Firefly picked up on the subtle tonal shift and immediately recognized the euphemism. Casualties on the Outer Rim were high. Many of them must have been coming through Vanderfalke's jurisdiction on their way to the slaughter.

"Any word from the fleet on when my permanent replacements are going to get here?" The major continued.

"I was told sometime within the next forty-eight hours," Firefly shrugged. "I don't mean to disappoint you, Isla, but sending us as stopgap was the best the fleet could do on short notice."

"We'll make do. We always have. After trying to cobble together a unit from what was left of my company after the War, running a FOB seems like child's play, even with the weather and the pirates."

Firefly nodded quietly in acknowledgement before returning to her breakfast. Perhaps she and the major weren't so different. They'd both returned home as heroes in spite of all they'd suffered. Perhaps it would be best if she returned to her meal. Before she could take another bite, however, the sudden wail of the air raid siren made Firefly wince. She frowned. She wasn't even halfway done with breakfast! Sunburst and Thunderlane groaned in unison, echoing her sentiments.

"Not a good sign, I take it," Firefly said, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing good can come of that siren," Vanderfalke said as she stood from her seat. "Walk with me, commander."

"Squad on me!" Firefly ordered her Timberwolves. Turning back around, she addressed the major. "Pirate attack?"

"Early warning precaution," Vanderfalke replied. "Most of my fliers and ARC ships are out running CAPs at the Outer Rim, so my forces are stretched thin. If the pirates wanted to sucker punch us, now would be the time. I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you."

"They're running as ragged. My shifts have been running double time trying to keep everything covered because of the attrition rate."

"How bad is it?" Thunderlane asked.

"Haven't seen casualties pile up like this since Valdus."

"Nothing can be as bad as Valdus," Firefly said darkly. It was enough to gain a puzzled glance from Thunderlane and eye contact from the major. Vanderfalke and Firefly shared a knowing glance before her eyes snapped forward again.

"No rest for the wicked, I suppose," the major continued. "Onyx is the link between Crystal Spire and the northernmost portion of the Outer Rim. Without our fuel and supplies, this entire sector goes dark."

The group made haste to the control tower. As they walked, ponies and griffons alike scrambled to their places around them. Tired soldiers loaded their weapons, donned armor, and carted rifles, repeaters, and ballistic lances out to their squadmates. Excited but weary chatter carried through the halls. Firefly caught snippets of conversation as she passed, all of them pointing to something ominous on the horizon.

Vanderfalke strode up the tower stairs and shouldered her way through the radar room door. She was immediately greeted by a griffon adjutant. "Major, we were about to send someone to fetch you. You need to take a look at this."

The armored griffon stepped forward, peering over the shoulder of the radar operator. A glowing line swept across the the face of the circular cathode ray screen, highlighting a bright dot at the twelve o'clock position each time it passed. Firefly followed Vanderfalke's gaze as she looked to the upper right corner of the radar display. A small rectangular screen displayed a series of wave forms that pulsed like a heartbeat, accompanied by a blinking green light beneath the screen. The neighboring red light remained dormant.

"There's no way this can be right." Vanderfalke furrowed her brow and squinted at the screen, her expression one of disbelief. "We lost the Nimbus weeks ago."

"The codes check out, ma'am," the radar operator replied. "It's definitely the Nimbus."

"Somepony care to fill me in?" Firefly said.

"We lost a patrol and their ARC ship three weeks ago," Vanderfalke explained. "Last we heard from them they were engaging a pirate raiding team at the edge of the Outer Rim. When we sent combat search and rescue after them, they found evidence of combat, but no ship or marines. The ship was presumed lost and the crew MIA."

"Until now."

Vanderfalke nodded. "Have you tried hailing them, chief?"

"Yes ma'am," the radar operator replied. "IFF is squawking, but they haven't responded to our hails."

Firefly pursed her lips as she thought about the development. "What if the Nimbus has been compromised?"

"We don't know that." Vanderfalke said flatly. Despite the fact that her response seemed routine, the waver in her tone told Firefly she was still uncertain. "Things break down in the cold all the time. Combat just makes it worse. We've had plenty of ships come in with working transponders but no working radios and visa versa."

"But you still don't feel right about this."

"No. But we have to be sure. If they were in a fight — or several for that matter — they could be in a bad way. I'm not going to leave my marines to burn out there if there's even the slightest chance of getting them back safely." Vanderfalke said. "Commander, I hate to ask you to get back in the saddle without even finishing your breakfast, but I need your team in the air. I need eyes on that ship. If there's trouble tailing them I need you to be ready for them."

"That's what we're here for. Let's go Timberwolves!"

"Timberwolf flight, radio check! Firefly!"

"Eastwind."

"Sunburst."

"Thunderlane."

"Storm Warden."

The Timberwolves quickly lifted off from the receiving pad, climbing up over the airship landing circles as they ascended. Firefly instinctively checked her harnesses. Her repeater to her right and her ballistic lance to her left both were locked solidly into their hardpoints. The scramble to arm and take off had left them with precious little time to check their equipment. Firefly could only hope that a few minutes in Onyx's heated and sheltered armory had staved off breakdown a while longer.

"Signal's good," Firefly radioed. "Storm Warden, we need a vector."

As she spoke, Firefly looked up above. Barely visible against the brilliant blue of the mid-morning sky was the glint of the ARC ship's hull. The ship had launched ahead of them, taking up position at altitude to monitor the wayward Nimbus while the Timberwolves were preparing for takeoff.

"Timberwolf Lead, Storm Warden," came the reply. "Your target is at three two zero, eight klicks out."

"Roger that, adjusting heading to three two zero."

Firefly banked to adjust her heading, checking right to ensure that her squad remained on her wing. The Timberwolves fell into echelon formation with Firefly leading the line. The featureless ground below rolled quickly by, framed by the looming purple masses of distant mountains to the northeast. Whatever semblance of fatigue that had plagued Firefly evaporated. She was on mission now.

"Timberwolf, Storm Warden."

"Send traffic."

"Two klicks and closing," the radio mare announced. "You should be nearing visual range."

"Understood."

As the Timberwolves neared their objective, Firefly could make out the glint of sunlight off metal superstructure in the distance. What began as a small shining dot on the horizon quickly resolved itself into the streamlined shape of an airship. Firefly flipped the darkened sunshade lenses down on her flight goggles and squinted into the light.

"That's our mark," Firefly said. "Looks like she's alone."

Thunderlane keyed his radio. "Storm Warden, Wolf Four. We have visual contact. Definitely looks like an Alliance ARC ship. She's flying Aquellian Loyalist colors."

"Copy that, Wolf Four. I'll relay to Major Vanderfalke."

"Timberwolves, pull up alongside her. We need to get a closer look. Sunburst and Eastwind take the port side. Rookie, you're with me. We'll come about to her starboard."

"You got it, boss."

The formation split, the pegasi briefly crossing paths before peeling away. Firefly's eyes scanned the ship as they approached. The airship was a standard airborne radar and communications vessel, not too different from Timberwolf flight's own Storm Warden. The design was a low-maintenance platform, integrating wood into its structure to save both weight and cost. The main cabin stood far forward and was heavily adorned with radio aerials and radar antennas. Just aft of the cabin on the dorsal deck was a gunner's cupola with a single repeating cannon, a cupola which was conspicuously empty.

"Firefly, I see dried blood on the deck," Sunburst radioed. "Powder burns, too. Might have been grenades or close-range gunfire."

"Superstructure is intact," Eastwind added. "No evidence of heavy artillery or missile hits. But I see bullet holes in the windscreens and ricochet marks on the deck and bulkheads. Gunner's cupola has empty shell casings in it, too. These guys were in combat."

The hair stood up on the back of Firefly's neck. Something wasn't right. Even without Sunburst and Eastwind's observations, she could feel it in her bones. There was a lesson to this.

"What's your assessment, rookie?" She suddenly said to Thunderlane.

"Me?" The lieutenant sputtered.

"Any other nugget in this outfit?"

Thunderlane cleared his throat, donning a sheepish grin before finally replying. "There was definitely a fight here. Plenty of bullet holes but no significant superstructure damage indicates that they didn't want to destroy the ship outright. Which leaves only one question..."

"Where's the crew?" Firefly finished. "Eastwind, I need you to take a look inside."

Eastwind banked and slid closer to the ship's deck, careful not to land on it outright. "No movement inside. Main cabin is dark. Engines look to be running a bit rough, like they haven't been tended to in a while. Lower deck is quiet."

"A ghost ship!" Thunderlane said, not without a hint of excitement.

"This isn't a colt scout hike, kid."

"Sorry, Firefly. But this was the kind of stuff I always loved reading about back in grade school. I never thought I'd be running into it during deployment!"

Firefly cracked a wan smile and shook her head at Thunderlane's antics. She then keyed her radio. "Storm Warden, this is Wolf Lead."

"Go ahead Wolf Lead."

"Get me Major Vanderfalke."

"Patching you through."

"This is Onyx Actual." The major's response crackled through the radio. "What have you got, Firefly?"

"I've got a ghost ship up here. Crew is MIA, but the ship is running. Its present course will take it right over the base. Please advise."

"Get on board, cut the engines, and tow that thing back to Onyx. I'll have a forensics team do a full sweep of the ship. I want to find out where those pirate bastards are holding my marines."

"Understood. I'll update you when we've — what the hell is that noise?" An electronic beeping noise at the edge of perception rapidly escalated in intensity, interrupting the radio call. "Eastwind?"

"I don't know what it is, but it's coming from inside the main cabin!"

"Firefly!" Vanderfalke said. "What is going on out there?"

"Nothing good," Firefly growled.

A low rumble suddenly erupted from the bowels of the ship. The deep thrum of aether-powered engines overlaid with the high-pitched whine of turbopumps spooling up shook the very air around the ship, resonating in Firefly's chest. In the midst of the maelstrom, the beeping noise continued, colliding with the engines' hum in an ominous cacophony of machine sounds. Instinctively, Firefly grabbed Thunderlane and pushed him away from the ship.

"Firefly? What the hell?"

"Get clear! The ship is going to —"

Firefly's warning was cut short by the roar of the ship's engines suddenly spinning to full power. Gouts of purple flame replete with atmospheric shock diamonds shot out from the ship's turbine engines, painting its local airspace with unnatural light and heat. Eastwind rapidly pulled away as the ship suddenly lurched forward.

"Horseapples," Thunderlane cursed. The lieutenant's consternation changed to wide-eyed horror as the ship launched itself at the base, rapidly accelerating beyond the Timberwolves' reach.

Wasting no time, Firefly keyed her radio. "Onyx Actual, this is Wolf Lead. We've got trouble! That ARC ship is out of control! I say again, we have an out of control ARC ship on a collision course with the base!"

"Gunline! Shoot it down!" Vanderfalke shouted. "That ship is NOT getting through my perimeter!"

By now, Firefly was close enough to the base to watch the fireworks. The ARC ship's brilliant purple reheat flame could be seen as a shining beacon over the silhouettes of the base buildings. Jagged black pocks burst into the skies above the base and tracers from repeating cannons rose up to meet the speeding derelict.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Firefly pleaded, hoping against hope that they could intercept the ship. Her heart sank at the major's response.

"It's still coming!" Vanderfalke shouted over the airwaves. Though collected, there was a definite hint of strain in her voice. "We can't stop it! All base crew bunker down and brace for impact!"

"Oh no." Firefly's utterance remained flat as her emotions fell away.

The runaway ship nosed down at the base perimeter, clipping the top of one of the hangars and crashing into the tarmac on the other side. The mangled husk continued to skid under its own momentum until it finally collided with the radar tower, tearing the base struts to pieces. With no support, the radar tower lurched toward the impact, teetering precariously for one terrifying moment until it finally collapsed under its own weight.

The disconnect caused by distance between seeing the crash and hearing it was surreal for Firefly. As their guidance radar went offline and their target vanished from their sights, the base guns ceased fire. For a moment, there was only silence.

Firefly keyed her radio. "Major Vanderfalke!"

Before the response came through, there was a blinding flash from the stricken ship. A golden fireball erupted from within the hull, launching the collapsed tower's radar radome into the air. Firefly cursed as the force of the explosion turned the radome into an oversized missile, its mass sending it smashing straight through the top of the base control tower. The radome was not slowed by the collision, instead spiraling into the sky until it finally arced back to the frozen ground several hundred meters away.

"Major Vanderfalke!" Firefly frantically yelled into the radio. The Timberwolves held their collective breath as a long moment passed.

"I'm still here!" Vanderfalke coughed and sputtered. Incoherent shouts and cries of pain mixed with the crackle of flames and the wail of fire alarms punctuated the background of the transmission.

"What's going on down there?!"

"We've got major casualties and our radar is down. Main radio relay is down, too. I've only got local links to personal radios! We're blind, deaf, and cut off!"

Firefly's sigh of relief was rapidly curtailed by her immediate action plan. "Not yet we're not! Storm Warden, you're our new radar and radio relay! I need comms and tactical data routed to me and Major Vanderfalke! Dispatch reinforcements to our grid location! We need medical staff and engineers, pronto!"

"Understood," the radio mare replied. "Relaying to the fleet."

"Major Vanderfalke, I need all hooves and talons on deck. If you have any teams to spare, I need you to get them airborne ASAP!"

"Already on it, commander! I'm putting Raven team under your command. Task them as necessary!" Her voice suddenly became muffled as she turned to shout additional orders to the others. "I need to get my marines to safety. My talons are tied here, Firefly. This is all you!"

"You're safe in our hooves, major," Firefly replied. "Raven team, how copy, over?"

"Ma'am! First Sergeant Windhover of Raven team reporting!" The gruff voice of a griffon marine came over the airwaves.

"Sergeant Windhover, I need your marines in the air, now! Set up a picket line north of the base. Coordinate your fliers with any AA defense left on the ground. If any pirate sonofabitch gets past us I want you to light 'em up like the Summer Sun Celebration! Am I clear?"

"Roger that, commander."

"Get to it. Wolf Lead, out." Firefly released her radio switch and glanced back at her squad, who were still surveying the damage.

"That was a hell of a crash!" said Thunderlane.

"You mean attack, right?" Eastwind spat. "You heard that transponder beep in the cabin! They knocked out base radar to blind us!"

"And then they blew the explosives they filled the ship up with to kill anyone around them," Sunburst finished.

To underscore the point, the radio lit up again, this time with the voice of Storm Warden's radio mare. "Timberwolf, I have contacts at three two zero, one angel, closing fast, no IFF!"

"Right on schedule." A growl issued from Firefly's lips and her brow tightened into an angry scowl. She could barely make out black dots transiting the flat white of the arctic wastes, but she already knew what was coming.

"More radar contacts inbound! Two more, no, three more, no... there's so many!" The beeping of radar alarms could be heard in the background as Storm Warden continued to call targets. "Wolf One, you're outnumbered four to one and climbing! Recommend you fall back and regroup with Raven team! It's too dangerous out there!"

"No way! Danger is my life!" Firefly snarled. "We need to thin these guys out before they get to the base or Raven team doesn't stand a chance! Timberwolves, burn sky! Cut those bandits down!"

Firefly powered forward, the ARC operator's protests drowned out by the sound of wingbeats and blood rushing through her veins. Deep inside, an animalistic rage festered. Equines were docile creatures by their nature. That rage was an aberration. It was acquired. It was earned. Firefly had long ago learned how to tap into that rage. Anyone who underestimated what she could do with it was in for a nasty surprise.

"Ready to get back in the saddle, kid?" Firefly said to Thunderlane, a feral grin crossing her lips.

"Ready as I'm going to be," he quipped.

"Just like at — " Firefly stopped herself as she realized what she was about to say. The words hung in the air before her like a softly uttered prayer. Firefly gritted her teeth and flapped harder, smothering the deja vu with the adrenaline rush of pending combat. Her lingering feelings vanished in a flurry of wind and shouted orders.

"Sunburst, Eastwind, take the left flank," Firefly barked. "Rookie, you're with me! We'll take the right and pinch them in. Storm Warden, keep your eyes and ears peeled!"

The four pegasi split off by twos, each wingpony taking up position on the outside. The gap between the pairs widened as they each gamed for altitude against their rapidly approaching foe. Firefly glanced down at the fast-moving black dots below. Radar wasn't kidding. There were no less than a dozen enemies with another wave of them on the horizon.

"Firefly, we've got traffic on the net," the ARC operator said.

"Patch me through!"

"Timberwolf, this is ARC ship Derecho," a male voice spoke. "We're inbound with Manticore and Hydra flights from the southwest. ETA eight minutes."

"You better hurry your asses up, Derecho, or there's not going to be anything left to kill!" Firefly said. "I'll assign new tasking on arrival. Be advised, I have a large concentration of bandits north of FOB Onyx that we're about to engage. Approach with caution and check your fire!"

"Understood. Derecho out."

"There's more, Firefly!"

"Timberwolf, this is Typhon flight." There was wind in the background of the female speaker's voice, indicating that she was already in flight rather than resting on an ARC ship. "We were returning from assignment when we picked up your distress signal, do you require assistance?"

"Affirmative! Timberwolf flight is engaging pirates north of FOB Onyx. We are heavily outnumbered and require immediate reinforcements!"

"Understood. Typhon unit is inbound. ETA twelve minutes."

"Contact!" Thunderlane suddenly shouted. "Confirm V-ID on enemy at angels one!"

In the time it had taken to address her reinforcements, Firefly and her team had closed to visual range. The enemy fliers ahead were all griffons. Though their kit looked a little worse for wear, each one carried the same equipment: flight jackets, combat tunics, flak jackets, helmets, and goggles. Each carried what Firefly recognized to be a late-war griffon-made automatic rifle. Perhaps the most striking feature, however, was the scarlet scarves they all wore, bits of which could be seen peeking out of their flight jackets.

"This is Timberwolf Four, tally four pirate raiders, lightly armed," Thunderlane reported.

"Red moon, red scarves, red banners... Red Talons." Firefly repeated the mantra that she'd heard many times before in the last war. "Stay close to me rookie."

"Do what now?" Thunderlane said.

"I said STAY CLOSE!" Firefly shouted. She maneuvered herself into the lead position, putting herself between the incoming pirates and Thunderlane. "These aren't criminal scum from the southlands!"

"Horseapples, was that a red moon I just saw?" Sunburst's curse only reaffirmed what Firefly had seen.

"Storm Warden, relay to base. We are in contact with Red Talons. I say again, we've made contact with Red Talons!"

"What's going on?" Thunderlane kept up with Firefly as instructed, but continued to question. "I don't understand!"

"Red Talons!" Firefly shouted between wingbeats. "An Aquellian Marine battalion that went missing after the war!"

"More griffon aces came out of the Talons than any other unit," Eastwind filled in. "They don't buck around!"

"This is for real, kid," said Firefly. "If you don't watch out here, you die."

Firefly glanced quickly over to Thunderlane as she spoke. The lieutenant met her gaze, his eyes at first unsure. Grim determination soon swept over his face, however, and he nodded silently in assent. Firefly clicked the switch to spool her repeater as she spoke. The glowing green reticle from her reflector gunsight flickered into view as the familiar whine of her gun's aether chamber charging caressed her ears.

"Timberwolves, you are weapons free!" She ordered.

To Firefly's left, a burst of purple tracers from Eastwind's gun marked the first shots fired in the engagement. It was quickly answered in kind. Blazing green tracers arced across the sky and the staccato report of griffon assault rifles echoed across the frozen plains. Firefly banked right and selected her first target. A tip of her pinions launched her into a steep dive.

"Rookie, on my wing! Come in from the right and get that guy in the flank. I'm coming in from above!"

"Roger that, boss!"

Thunderlane shot ahead of Firefly, coming in from the griffon's right as instructed. Just as Firefly predicted, the griffon juked left to avoid Thunderlane's repeater fire, right into Firefly's sights. Firefly squeezed the trigger. A subtle tweak of her tail was enough to place her aetheric burst right into the griffon's center of mass. A gurgling cry at the end of a trail of choking black smoke was feedback enough for Firefly. Her prey spun wildly, clawing for altitude, but eventually succumbed to aetherburn and plummeted into the white void below. Firefly flared her wings and nosed down to boost her speed before climbing to regain lost altitude.

"Good, you can still follow instructions!" Firefly shouted to Thunderlane. "Next target, rookie!"

"Tally pirate raider, two o'clock— WHOA!" Thunderlane cut his transmission and suddenly pulled hard right.

Instinctively, Firefly maneuvered in the opposite direction as two streams of glowing green bolts shot between them. Her nose wrinkled at the acrid smell of tracer compound and rifle propellant. Firefly quickly slewed her gun in the direction of the shots and blindly loosed a quick burst from her repeater. She banked and prepared to circle back around as the two griffons attacking from above slipped past her after their head-on attack.

"Thunderlane, get the one on the right. I'll take the one on the left!"

"You got it, boss."

Firefly and Thunderlane finished their ascent, crossing paths and looping back around as they dove after their attackers. Firefly's repeater sang again. Purple lances of hard aether flashed between pony and prey. Despite her altitude advantage, Firefly had difficulty landing a hit. This griffon was craftier than Firefly's first victim. Small movements of his wings and tail let him slip back and forth, pushing him out of the way of danger at just the right time. Firefly growled and tucked her wings to close the gap.

"Splash one bandit!" Thunderlane radioed.

"I need you on top cover, Thunderlane!" Firefly yelled the response to dismiss Thunderlane, freeing her to continue her pursuit. "I've got this one!"

In a surprise maneuver, the griffon whirled around and flared his wings. Flying backwards, the Talon shouldered and fired his rifle, spraying hot lead at his attacker. Firefly flared hard, twisting her wings and spiralling out of the way as bullets snap-cracked past her. Squeezing the trigger on her own gun, Firefly retaliated in kind. Tracers streaked between them as the two combatants fell from the sky. Burst after burst, Firefly fired until finally her repeater beeped its overheat warning and shut down. Mashing on the trigger did nothing.

Thankfully, it appeared that the griffon had run into the same problem. Firefly caught him discarding his spent magazine and fishing for another one from his combat harness. This was her chance! Firefly tucked her wings and dove after him. She flipped out her combat knife, a wicked-looking curved blade that locked to her wrist. With a wild battle cry, Firefly charged her prey.

As Firefly closed, the griffon abandoned all hope of being able to load his rifle and reached for his sidearm, but it was too late. The pistol spun out of his grip from the impact of Firefly's hooves, disappearing into the formless ice below. In a last-ditch effort to defend himself, he drew his own blade. A quick stab at Firefly's chest was blocked by locking forearms with the griffon. The two traded blows as they continued to fall, the rapidly approaching ground threatening to snuff them both.

"You want us both to—" the griffon snarled a taunt, only to be silenced by a powerful left cross to his beak.

"I didn't ask you!" Firefly roared back, making the griffon wince at the sudden burst of ferocity.

Firefly capitalized on her opponent's momentary shock. A slash to the face with her knife blinded him with a spray of his own blood and a quick kick to the gut with her hind legs flipped him head over paws, stunning him. Firefly caught the drag handle on his load carrying harness with her hoof and pulled him into her blade. The knife pierced the back of the griffon's neck with a sickening schlick. Her handiwork completed, Firefly kicked the griffon's corpse away, watching it plummet limply to the ground.

There was still no time to waste. Firefly quickly stowed her knife and splayed her wings to arrest her descent. The risky attack had placed her in a precarious position. In air combat maneuvering, altitude was speed and speed was life. If the griffons caught her or her squadmates like this, they would be dead within seconds. Firefly flapped hard to regain lost altitude.

"Timberwolf, I need a SITREP!" Firefly stowed her knife as she pushed for a situation report.

"We're hanging in there, but the longer we stay out here, the more pirates get through!" Eastwind shouted into the radio above the din of gunfire. "A couple already slipped through our lines while we were engaging their friends. Raven team better be on the money with their point defense!"

"Sergeant Windhover! What the hell is going on back there?" Firefly keyed her radio again.

"Nothing good, commander! There's too many of them for us to get them all! They've started hitting the gun emplacements with ballistic lances. I've lost several marines from my flight and we only have one functional heavy AA battery left!"

"Storm Warden, what's the ETA on those reinforcements?"

"Imminent! Hold out just a little longer! I have friendly transponder signals on the horizon!"

"Raven team, Timberwolves, stand your ground!"

This was it. They could halt the attack. They just needed a little longer.

"Firefly, heads up!"

Firefly snapped her attention to the shouted warning. Eastwind barreled past her at breakneck speed, followed by a spray of green tracers. Thinking quickly, Firefly whipped out her knife again. Her back was to the sun and Eastwind's pursuer was focused entirely on her. Her timing would have to be perfect. Another burst of tracers streaked past her. The griffon had no idea what was coming.

With expert timing, Firefly snagged the griffon with her knife as he shot by, wrapping her legs around him to maintain her grip. The griffon cried out in pain and surprise as the adamantine blade pierced armor and bit into flesh. Firefly yanked the knife out, giving the griffon two slashes across the face and using her wings to spin him around until his back faced the ground. A mighty kick from her hind hooves sent him shooting downwards. Firefly wasn't done yet. Tipping her wings, Firefly nosed down and hammered the trigger on her freshly-cooled repeater. A spray of aether lances shredded the faltering griffon below. Firefly looked to her wingmare as Eastwind circled back around.

"Too much for you to handle, Eastwind?"

"If it was, I'd be dead. Just keeping you on your hooves!" The signature impish smirk was plastered across Eastwind's face.

"If I'd spent any more time on my hooves, I'd be in the Army still! Now where the hay is Thunderlane?"

"I thought he was with you?"

"Splash another bandit!" The radio callout was distinctly of Thunderlane's voice.

"Wolf Four, report in!"

"Sunburst and I linked up. We're handling top cover to the south and screening Raven team from high fliers."

If Firefly squinted, she could make out bursts of purple tracers where her other squadmates were trading fire with the enemy. They were indeed forward of Raven team's position closer to the base and seemed to be doing a good job of keeping the pirates occupied. While they were occupied, however, more fliers were on their way. Sunburst seemed to see them at the same time.

"Thunderlane, look out, we've got more coming in!" He shouted.

"Sorry, commander. Hard to chat while we're in combat! I'll give you a SITREP when I'm done." In spite of his cheeky response, it was apparent that the fight was no small endeavor. Thunderlane's microphone picked up the snap-crack of passing bullets and the woosh of rapid maneuvering. "Sunburst! Going to need a little help here! This guy's not going down easy and I'm taking fire from range!"

The breath caught in Firefly's throat. The color drained from her face. Her heart pounded in her chest and her hooves shook with every pulse in her veins. She couldn't just float there. She had to do something. Without another word, Firefly launched herself toward Thunderlane's position.

"No, no, no, no, no..." Her utterances trailed off into unintelligible whispers as she pushed herself faster and faster.

Eastwind's protests went unanswered. Pains in her wings from flying at a dead sprint went ignored. Gunfire and griffon shouts vanished into nothingness around her as Firefly blanked everything else out of her mind. The radio chatter coming through her headset was muddy, as if she were underwater. Her peripheral vision blurred away until it was nothing but black fog at the edge of her sight. In her haze, however, Firefly could just make out Thunderlane's exchange with Sunburst.

"I have him," Thunderlane said.

"He's dumping speed!" Sunburst said between bursts of repeater fire.

"Stay with him!"

The gouts of violet flame and aether lances in the distance resolved themselves into the forms of airborne pegasi and griffons in combat. Firefly's wingbeats thundered by her ears. Her heartbeats hammered her chest so hard she thought her ribs would shatter. Her pulse pounded in her skull, driving her onward until she finally arrived at a vantage point above the firefight. Barely taking time to catch her breath, she dove back into the battle below.

"Lost him! Damn there's one on my tail!" Thunderlane's response was clouded with repeater fire and wind noise. "This is Timberwolf Four, I'm defending!"

"Hold on, I've got him!" Sunburst's response was calm and collected. "Just keep him busy!"

"Hang on, Thunderlane!" Firefly frantically shouted into her radio. "I'm coming!"

"Firefly?" Thunderlane's response was one of disbelief.

"I'm coming, Thunderlane!"

Sunburst shouted something, trying to get Firefly's attention, but it fell on deaf ears. The griffon behind Thunderlane loomed in Firefly's gunsights. She had this. She could do it. She could save him.

"Break right!" Firefly was only vaguely aware of Sunburst's barked order to Thunderlane.

Doing as he was told, Thunderlane flared hard and whipped his legs around underneath himself, pulling hard to his right. The griffon dumped his speed and attempted to follow. Without hesitation, Firefly squeezed the trigger. Violet lances spewed from her repeater, filling the space Thunderlane had just vacated with burning aether. The griffon blundered right into it. His wings flared in an attempt to arrest his approach, but it was too late. He covered his face with his arms in a vain attempt to protect himself as he was shredded by magical gunfire. Firefly blew past the tumbling mass of smoking feathers, banking to the left and pulling out of her dive.

As Firefly's peripheral vision began to return, she finally noticed the tracers flashing by her. The other radio calls began to fade in. The smell of gunsmoke and tracer compound finally shook her out of her fugue. Even as she had closed on Thunderlane's pursuer, another pirate had come up behind her.

"Firefly!" Sunburst's warning finally got through to her. "You've got one on your six!"

"I'm coming about!" Thunderlane radioed. "Keep this guy busy, commander! I can pick him off!"

"Negative! Disengage! I have have him!"

"But Firefly —"

"I SAID DISENGAGE!" The response was less spoken than snarled with animalistic fury.

Firefly grunted and flared hard, splaying her pinions and nosing up to offer maximum air resistance. At the same time, she threw her hind legs and tail forward, using the momentum to whip herself into a tight kulbit flip. The griffon behind her overshot, a look of surprise crossing his face as he glanced incredulously behind him. Firefly grinned ferally. This was too easy. Before she had even completed her loop she was hammering down on the trigger. The repeater sang again, peppering Firefly's target with burning aether. Firefly continued to fire as she completed her loop, using her tail to keep herself aligned with her prey. The griffon ate the entire burst of repeater fire, sending him spiralling headfirst into the ground below. Firefly's pulse pounded in her skull as she leveled out. Two quick kills while maneuvering and shooting. That's one for the books!

"Firefly." Thunderlane said flatly. The stallion pulled up beside Firefly, the edge in his voice betraying a strange mixture of irritation and honest concern. "No offense, ma'am, but we had that one."

"I—" Firefly paused. Her cheeks burned at her lapse in awareness. What just happened? She said to herself. She gritted her teeth and retorted in spite of her self-doubt. "So did I! Stay close, rookie. We're not done yet!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Firefly could see the mixture of vexation and bewilderment look on Thunderlane's face. She was sure that Sunburst had the exact same look — at least the vexation part — if the incoherent but clearly angry mumbling from his radio was any indication. Firefly bit her tongue and forced herself to focus. There was no time to think. They still had a battle to fight!

"Timberwolf, Storm Warden. Incoming traffic on the net."

"Patch it through!"

"Timberwolf, this is ARC ship Derecho. We've arrived at FOB Onyx and are clearing base airspace with Manticore flight. I have Hydra team available for tasking."

"Thank gods," Firefly mumbled to herself. Reinforcements had finally arrived.

"Dispatch Hydra team to the furball north of the base. Be advised, we are engaged in close combat with Red Talons, so check your fire! Timberwolves, form a line and advance!"

With Hydra backstopping them, Firefly's team advanced with repeaters blazing. Griffon machine gun tracers were answered with aether bolts, swords, knives, and claws, returned with hooves, knives, and gunfire. They'd done it. They'd beaten the enemy back.

Firefly felt the incoming round long before she saw it. She tucked her wings and dropped like a stone, trading altitude for speed. She barely had time to look up before the concussion wave sent her spinning away like a foal's rag doll. She cursed as she twisted her wings, tail, and legs to right herself. Firefly craned her neck in time to see the remnants of a flak burst behind and above her.

"Artillery fire! Scatter!" Someone shouted over the radio.

The ARC ship's radio warning confirmed Firefly's suspicions. "Timberwolf, be advised, new radar contact! Enemy airship, high tonnage!"

"What is it now?!"

"Signature looks like a cruiser, Talon-class!"

"Holy shit!" Sunburst cursed. "Where did they get a Talon?!"

Firefly slowly turned her gaze to the mountains where a menacing shadow had just appeared. Its silhouette was outlined by a beak-like prow and sleek hull lines not unlike a bird of prey. The ship was still a long ways off, but the booming thunder of its massive guns was already echoing across the arctic plain. Jagged pocks of airbursting artillery shells marked the sky in front of the Timberwolves, slowly pushing them back with a threatening wall of high explosive and shredded metal.

"We're going to need more firepower to take that thing out!" Eastwind said.

"Raven Lead, this is Wolf Lead! Do you copy?" Firefly keyed her radio. "Request artillery support for fire mission!"

"Negative, Wolf Lead! My team is no longer combat effective and we have lost all heavy AA batteries! I say again all heavy AA guns are down!"

"Horseapples..." Firefly growled.

Without the base guns, they wouldn't be able to stop the enemy ship. If they couldn't stop the ship, the base was lost, even with their reinforcements. As the flak field continued to advance, Firefly pared away her options until she was only left with only one.

"Timberwolves," she said grimly. "We have to take out that ship. Arm ballistic lances. Come in high and fast, hit it from the top with plunging fire. Target its engines and altus gas reservoirs!"

"Are you crazy?" Sunburst shouted. "That's suicide!"

Firefly was well aware of the risks of a direct attack against a capital ship. Heavy repeaters with armor-piercing bullets that could shred combat fliers to bits. Flak cannons with explosive rounds that could rupture every organ in her body in an instant. Griffons toting machine guns and donning impervious Ironclad armor patrolling the deck.

"We're the only ones here, so it's up to us! If we don't stop that thing, everypony else here dies!" She cried.

It was crazy to be sure. But Firefly had done crazy. She'd done dangerous. She knew what it was like and she knew how to handle it. Perhaps most of all, she knew that she deserved it. With grim determination, Firefly prepared to launch herself forward.

"Let's do this!"

"Wolf Lead, this is Onyx Actual! Hold up!" Major Vanderfalke's voice finally broke over the airwaves.

Firefly growled. Why did they have to wait? Ponies were dying out there! She was ready! But as she looked back at her squadmates, she paused. She was ready to fly into the face of death, but was she ready to send them into the same?

"I have a solution!" Vanderfalke continued. "We've got a Sleipnir gunship parked in one of the hardened hangars. Now that our airspace is clear we can launch it! It has a ship-killer gun, but we need cover for it until we can get it airborne!"

"How do we stop their fliers with that flak field in the way?" Firefly said.

"Timberwolves, I might have an opening for you," Storm Warden reported. "That flak field goes both ways. It looks like they've left a clear air corridor for their own forces to get through! Drop altitude to fifty meters to stay below the flak field and advance on heading three one two. That should put you into position to intercept the next wave."

"That's enough of a plan for me! Hydra team, I need you on station at the edge of the flak field cut down anyone that gets past us! Timberwolves, on me! We're going pirate hunting!"

Firefly dove for the deck. The air physically changed as she descended, becoming thicker and colder. The space around them seemed to thrum with unearthly energy, a product of the artillery rounds bursting overhead. Below, what appeared to be a perfectly flat plain resolved itself into icy scree punctuated by pillars of broken ice. The Timberwolves ducked in and out of the pillars, rapidly approaching the radar contacts marked by their ARC ship. By a stroke of fortune, the area pointed out by Storm Warden was in the center of a small basin filled with cracked ice and broken stone — the perfect place to take cover for an ambush.

"Timberwolf, you're approaching target area for intercept."

"Timberwolves, weapons hold," Firefly ordered. "Take up positions in the basin!"

Firefly dropped into the basin and flew up to a vertical chunk of ice, flipping out her knife to cling to the sheer surface. Her other squadmates did the same, each taking up position on a bit of icy cover. The large bowl-like depression hid the Timberwolves from view and enemy radar. Firefly took a deep breath, letting her heartbeat settle with the exertion of fast flight at low altitude. Timing was critical. A strange lull settled in as the Timberwolves waited for their prey.

"Enemy approaching, Timberwolves. They'll be passing over you any second now."

Firefly kept her eyes skyward. Black scars opened in the azure sea above, gently ruffling her mane with the near constant drone of artillery airbursts. Finally, they arrived. Birdlike silhouettes blotted out the light from above, casting sharp shadows on the rough ice. Firefly quickly glanced at her squadmates. They idled in various positions, repeaters and knives standing ready, muscles coiled to launch them at their opponents like vipers. The sound of passing wings and jangling combat gear slowly began to fade into the rumble of artillery.

With only a quick glance of acknowledgement to her squadmates, firefly kicked off from the icy pillar to which she clung. The Timberwolves silently slid up behind the griffons. Their wingbeats matched those of their prey and their approach was masked by both the noise of artillery and the movements of their targets. Finally, they were within range.

"Weapons free." The command was issued in a flat, emotionless whisper. Over both radio and earshot, it was sure to be lost in the background noise.

The raucous roar of Equestrian repeaters burst forth from behind the griffon formation. Caught completely off guard, many dropped from the sky before they even realized what was happening. Those who managed to survive the first barrage blindly fired their rifles behind them at an enemy they could not see.

"Advance!" Firefly shouted the order and surged forward.

The four pegasi charged forward, guns spewing superheated aether all the way. As they pierced the heart of the formation, Firefly gave hoof signals to split. The squad split into pairs, slicing the griffon formation into parts. In and out of each gaggle of confused griffons they circled, repeaters ripping at them like predators into terrified prey. One after another the griffons fell, by gun, by blade, and by hoof.

Firefly spat the taste of gunsmoke and ozone from her mouth as she removed her knife from her latest kill. The bursts of tracer fire finally stopped as the last griffons fled or were shot down. A choking miasma lingered around the battle space. Black snow fell from the ash and cinders of airburst artillery above. Columns of steam rose from bullet and aether bolt impacts in the ice. Firefly's muzzle was covered in soot and her coat reeked of sulfur. She was dirty, cold, and angry, but she'd gotten the job done.

"Storm Warden, Wolf Lead! We've just finished mopping up the first group. Give me a SITREP on that gunship!"

"Timberwolf, gunship is ready for launch. Be advised, you have another wave incoming from the cruiser. They know you're there!"

"Of course they do," Firefly growled. "Timberwolves, stay sharp! We've got more incoming!"

Tracers flashed overhead as the next wave of griffons closed the gap. Firefly took a deep breath and steeled herself. She had already lost track of the number of takedowns they had racked up. With a mighty roar, she launched herself into the fight once again. One kill blurred into another. Every gunshot, every swipe of her blade, every aerobatic maneuver to avoid fire or counterattack chained together in one blisteringly fast dance of battle.

"I'm hit! I'm hit but I'm still airborne!"

"Hold on, Sunburst, I've got you!"

"Thunderlane, watch your six, there's another one on you!"

"Ballistic lance! Break! Break!"

"I got him!"

"Where's Firefly? I can't see her!"

The flurry of radio messages flashed past Firefly as she continued to move from target to target. Golden fireballs from airbursting ballistic lance suddenly blossomed in the maelstrom of tracers, snow, and radio callouts. Firefly barely managed to avoid flying into one, tucking her wings to allow the blast wave to wash over her without tearing her feathers from their sockets.

"She's over there!"

"Holy shit, there's so many of them!"

"We have to help her!"

Firefly's bones ached and her head spun from the concussion. When her vision finally cleared, she saw the silhouettes of multiple griffons closing in. She bit her tongue and silently cursed herself. In her blood-lust fueled rage, she'd worked herself into a hole. But it didn't matter. She still had a job to do and if they intended to kill her she'd go down fighting. Firefly spat her taunts and epithets at the enemy and charged the closest one.

"Push harder! Get in there!"

"We'll never get to her in time!"

"Typhon One, Fox Three."

Firefly's ears suddenly perked at the new voice. Fox Three. She knew that brevity code. It was only used by magic users to denote that a seeking projectile had been fired. Firefly grunted and quickly swiped at her opponent's face with her knife and used his body as a vault to launch herself away. A bonechilling wail from behind escalated into an unearthly howl as a ghostly javelin streaked past her and skewered the griffon through the heart. The body briefly convulsed with pulsing white light before disintegrating into dust.

"All Typhon elements, fire at will." The flight commander's voice was unnervingly calm, as if all the slaying she was about to do was merely routine.

"We have a runner!"

"I see him. Fox three."

The first magic missile was not the last. All around her other self-guided javelins found their marks, vaporizing her attackers in sprays of translucent aether. Firefly weaved between the barrage as she powered her way out of the kill zone. Suddenly, the ominous howling noise of a guiding javelin sounded behind her. A quick glance to the rear was all it took to see that one of the spears of aether was in hot pursuit.

"Typhon One! Typhon One!" Firefly shouted. "Check your fire! Timberwolf is buddy spiked!"

Firefly juked left and right, doing her best to shake it off, but it continued the chase, quickly gaining on her as she burned her speed to maneuver. She rattled off every curse she knew as she struggled to keep ahead of the single-minded spear of aether. Even if she did manage to call off the attack, there was no way for the caster to stop the javelin once it was airborne. She clawed for every bit of extra speed, but soon realized that she would never be able to outrun it. Suddenly, an idea struck her.

Firefly slewed her repeater toward an oncoming ice pillar and fired a quick burst into it. A fount of steam erupted from the pillar's glassy surface, quickly coalescing into a small cloud. Firefly grabbed the cloud with her hooves as she shot by, kneading it into a miniature stormcloud as she flew. Another quick peek behind showed that the missile was far too close for comfort.

Firefly gave the cloud one last squeeze and let it go, giving a swift buck with her hind hooves as it swept past. The miniature storm cloud erupted in a dazzling display of sparks and miniature thunderclaps. A brilliant flash lit the entire basin as the javelin collided with the cloud and exploded.

"Typhon One, cease fire!" Firefly shouted again. "Blue on blue! Friendly fire!"

"Typhon unit, weapons tight!" Typhon's commander quickly rescinded her order. "Only engage positively identified hostiles! We have friendlies in the kill zone. I say again we have friendlies in the kill zone! Check your targets!"

"I swear to Celestia, I'll—" Firefly stopped dead as the pieces fell into place. She recognized the voice of the flight leader. They arrived and shot too fast to be unicorns on an ARC ship. Firefly glanced quickly to the new arrivals, her eyes going wide as they laid waste to the griffon forces with blasts of fire and smoke. "Roshina!"

"Firefly." Came the flat response, just a hint of amusement playing at its edge.

Firefly gritted her teeth and violently shook her head. Of course Roshina would treat combat as merely routine. But now was not the time to get mad. There were more important things for Firefly to worry about than the previous night's almost bar fight. She shoved the thoughts out of her head, but made sure to leave a note of the incident. There would still be a bone to pick later.

"This is gunship Hresvelgr." At long last, the gunship commander's voice came over the airwaves. "We’re airborne now. Thanks for the cover. Let’s give that cruiser something to chew on!"

BOOM.

The battle stopped. For a moment, griffons, dragons, and ponies alike were given pause by the earthshaking roar of the Hresvelgr's main gun. A ghostly keening in the distance escalated into a terrifying screech. Borne on wings of fire, a single massive shell streaked overhead.

BOOM. BOOM.

The cannon spoke twice more, hurling shells that glowed like fiery brimstone at their distant target. The flashes of exploding ship-killer rounds could be seen before the explosions were heard. One gout of flame turned into two, then three as the gunship's barrage found its mark. The flak field vanished as the cruiser's guns were smashed to splinters by high explosive hellfire.

Black smoke poured from gaping wounds on the once-mighty capital ship. The vessel began listing heavily to port as violet flames burst from ruptured altus reservoirs. By some divine miracle or valiant effort from the crew, the ship did not capsize or fall from the sky. But with no guns and crippling damage to its superstructure, either could happen before long. The wounded beast turned tail and ran. Seeing their ship crippled and their offensive blunted, the surviving griffons fired their last shots and fled. A collective cheer went up from Alliance forces as their foe retreated.

"Enemy forces are retreating!" Despite her efforts to remain professional, the ARC operator clearly breathed a sigh of relief. "Picture is clear. All units report in."

"Onyx."

"Hydra."

"Typhon."

"Timberwolf." Firefly's response betrayed the sudden onset of fatigue.

She rubbed her forehead and groaned. Every bit of her body ached. The combination of concussion and shrapnel from explosions and blunt trauma and lacerations from close-quarters combat ensured that she'd have plenty of cuts, bruises, and sore spots the next day.

"All elements, you are cleared to return to base," Major Vanderfalke's voice came over the airwaves. "Good job everyone!"

Good job, Firefly mouthed to herself. Then why didn't it feel like one? Something wasn't right. The hyperawareness that normally came with combat was absent. She felt like she was wandering around in a haze. The last few minutes of the fight had been nothing but a blur. Whereas she could clearly remember the first two kills she'd made that day, everything else ran together into one colossal kaleidoscope of destruction. What changed?

"This was nothing like Trotislava..." Thunderlane's voice broke Firefly out of her rumination.

In her absentmindedness, her squad had already regrouped on her without her notice. Firefly breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. She was okay. They'd all gotten out of this mess alive and that was more than enough for her right now. Firefly forced a self-sure smirk as she addressed Thunderlane.

"Welcome to the Wolf Pack, kid."

4. Lacuna

View Online

The onset of fatigue was immediate. The onset of pain, not so much. It wasn't until Firefly had hooves down on the Majestic's flight deck that she began to feel the weight of her wounds. Bruises on her chest and barrel nagged at her. Papercut-like shrapnel wounds addled her legs. Her right shoulder burned from a tender wound under the shredded sleeve of her uniform.

"You all right, boss?"

"I'm fine, Thunderlane. Let's just get to the armory, drop off our kit, and head to debrief. I want to get a proper shower and go finish my breakfast!"

Thunderlane and Sunburst continued to chatter behind her as they walked, but Firefly was far from paying attention. The scabbed-over wound on her shoulder itched and burned like nothing else. She was almost tempted to draw her knife and cut the sleeve off her jacket to relieve herself of it. Unlike the others, she'd have to spend some extra time in the armory talking to Forge. In the wake of the Onyx fight, her repeater had stopped working entirely, something that wouldn't do if they were suddenly scrambled again the next day. Firefly was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she nearly walked past the armory.

Correcting her course, Firefly stepped up and threw open the armory hatch. Other fliers stowing their weapons looked up for a moment as she entered. She saw several raised eyebrows and many cocked ears. As she passed, snippets of conversation drifted to her ears. Griffon pirates slain. A ship destroyed. A burning base. It seemed talk of her exploits had preceded her return. Firefly slipped past the others and headed into the back room.

A lady griffon crooned along to the light, breezey strains of an ambling piano tune, the product of a record player in the corner of the machine shop. Hunched over the bare skeleton of a field-stripped machine gun was the raptorian form of Victor Forgewing At the sound of Firefly's hoof falls, he turned around and stood, a wry grin on his beak.

"Firefly! Come to bring me another one of my babies you've killed?" Forge's greeting broke the idle chatter in the background.

"Give it a rest, Forge!" Firefly snorted. "Everypony knows that the one who's really killing it here is Gradivus Prova himself!"

Forge chuckled at Firefly's barb against the weapons manufacturer. "So what can I do you for, lass?"

Firefly decoupled her repeater from her combat harness and placed it on the bench. The gun looked worse for wear, bearing the same marks of combat that Firefly did. Scratches and dings crossed the silvered metal surface of the receiver and barrel assembly and patchy soot and dirty grease collected in the stamping joints. Firefly tapped on the receiver cover with a hoof.

"I did a field-strip and self-test of this thing on the ride back here. Coolant reservoir refuses to eject and LEAPS cartridge won't charge. The damn thing won't spool at all."

The next track of the record began to play, marking a distinct change of mood for Forge. Firefly observed a gamut of emotions as Forge slid the receiver cover off and picked up the body of the weapon. First, there was puzzlement at what could possibly be the problem. Then there was the thrill of recognition, native to all engineers and machinists, rapidly followed by the vexing realization of what the problem entailed. Finally, there was a long sigh of exasperation as Forge unceremoniously dropped the repeater onto the work bench. Firefly leaned on the bulkhead, one front leg crossed over the other, a rear hoof tapping the deck impatiently as she waited for Forge to deliver his verdict.

"Tell me something, Firefly," Forgewing asked, clearly irked. "How many overheat cycles did you run on this?"

"Don't remember," Firefly said flatly. "It was a lot, though."

"And this is why I blame you for killing my kids!" The griffon scowled at Firefly before turning back to his work bench. Forge tapped his talon on the manifest taped to the table top. "This was working fine when I handed it to you yesterday! It worked fine when you went on a full battle-rattle flight. But the second you get into any situation that requires shooting, be it live fire training, FTX, or gods forbid combat, it comes back mangled!"

Kids. That's what Forge called the guns he was entrusted to care for. In a way, he did treat them like a mother hen would. He fixed the broken parts like he'd bandage scraped knees and twisted wings, cleaned them like he'd bathe his own children, and did everything he could to ensure their welfare while they were away.

Firefly frowned. She was less curious about burning through ammunition and coolant than she was about the fact that she didn't remember doing so. The fight in the flak field had been one gigantic blur. Everything had run on fully automatic. She'd fired, overheated, popped emergency coolant, and fired again without even realizing it. She didn't even realize she'd been fragged by shrapnel until she'd gotten on the ARC ship to return to the Majestic. So Firefly gave the only answer she could.

"It was a target-rich environment," she said as she rubbed her sore shoulder.

The griffon sniffed at the remark. "I'm sure you said that about every other time you've pulled the trigger. I'm going to be rapt when I open this one up proper..."

Forge clamped the carbine into the workbench vice. A few taps of his talon on the coolant reservoir and attempted removal by hand confirmed Firefly's earlier report — it wasn't going to budge. A mumbled curse in native Aquellian escaped his beak. The griffon reached for a screwdriver and jammed the flat tip into the gap between the reservoir casing and the gun's receiver housing. His other claw found a mallet and lined up his strike. With three taps and a shimmy, the reservoir was free.

The reservoir protested its removal by beginning to ooze purple-pink liquid coolant from a crack on the bottom casing. Forge squawked in surprise as coolant dribbled onto his work apron and smeared on his outstretched talons. The griffon swore again in his native tongue and slammed the ornery component down onto a metal tray on his bench before wiping his claws down on a shop rag. Whirling back around to face Firefly, Forge pointed a now comically pink talon back to the offending weapon.

"Look at this!" Forge growled. "Are you seeing this? This is why you couldn't remove the coolant reservoir! You ran it so hot that the casing cracked, the pump fused, and the contacts are all buggered now. I'll have to replace all of these!"

Firefly stared blankly at the broken weapon. She wasn't an engineer, but it was easy to see that just about everything had been thoroughly wrecked. Black patches fouled the inside of the reservoir well. Bright pink coolant was beginning to congeal on the receiver from the earlier spill. A sickening smell that resembled cupcakes mixed with burned hair began emanating from the mutilated mess of metal and electronics.

"You know, if the hardware is that shitty, why don't you send in a request for revision to FleetCOM?" Firefly said.

"Because they worked fine in all of the testing that I did, as long as you kept them within design parameters! The emergency coolant charges are there to give you backup when you need to be able to fire immediately after overheat."

The fuse was lit. Firefly didn't need a lecture on how she was supposed to act. She did what she did and she was damn good at it. She didn't need ground crew telling her how to fly.

"I always need to fire immediately after overheat!" Firefly angrily shot back.

Her response was vicious, more so than she'd originally intended it to be, but Forge was really starting to grind on her nerves. This was a waste of time. She was here to return her gun so she could debrief and then hit the showers!

The older griffon massaged his forehead with a claw, obviously vexed at Firefly's obstinance. Firefly's expression remained unchanged. When he realized his prior approach wouldn't work, Forge took a deep breath and addressed her again. His tone was noticeably softer, more concerned than angry, though the tinge of exasperation never quite disappeared.

"It would be different if this were an isolated incident, Firefly, but every sortie you've flown that involved live fire in the past month has required me to completely overhaul your gun. FleetCOM actually filed an inquiry to see if I was secretly pinching parts because I was going through spares so fast!"

"You can't keep your bureaucrats on a leash?"

Forge sighed. "That's not what I meant, Firefly. This isn't about the brass and it's not about the guns. It's about you."

"It's not my fault the build quality isn't up to spec!"

"No, Firefly!" Forge chided Firefly with a raised talon. "You've tested these repeaters yourself. You know that Prova makes good kit!"

He was right, of course. The Prova RA-16 was good kit. Firefly had tested them plenty. She'd flown into the face of death with them and slain more than her fair share of foes with them. But they still had their limits. Limits were unacceptable. Firefly gritted her teeth and ground her hoof into the deck. Everything was unacceptable; the repeaters, the music, and certainly the way Forge was treating her!

"Not good enough, Forge!" The proverbial fuse expired, finally setting Firefly ablaze. Each word out of her mouth was louder and more ferociously shouted than the last. "The Prova guys think they can give me these panzy-ass pea-shooters and expect me to fight pirates and protect the Crystal Empire? GIMME A GODS-DAMNED BREAK!"

Firefly leaped up and slammed her hooves into the deck. The impact was so sharp that the record player needle skipped out of its groove, the grating noise of scratching record giving way to the hollow echo of hooves on metal. Firefly's chest heaved and her wings flared out, her ears pinned back and back arched as if ready to leap at an opponent.

Fire burned in Firefly's eyes, a fire which was now directed at Victor Forgewing. The griffon took a step back at the sudden outburst, then froze. For a long moment, he stood in stunned silence as Firefly continued to glower. Finally, Forge took a deep breath and spoke.

"I don’t know what you’ve been dealing with, Firefly," he said, his voice softer in volume but not in tone. "And really it’s not my place to know. I’m just the ordnance tech. But I can tell you that running repeaters hot for weeks on end will burn them out faster than anything."

Firefly said nothing at first. She was too angry. But as Forge looked her in the eye, she realized that she was on her hooves, her wings outstretched, and her muscles tensed as if preparing to strike at prey. Firefly folded her wings and forced herself to breathe. The adrenaline rush left an uncomfortable tingling sensation in her chest and the ache from slamming bare hooves into tempered metal addled her legs.

Her voice quavered ever so slightly when she spoke. "You prescribing me shore leave?"

"Overclocked hardware needs cooling, cleaning, and maintenance, too." Forge tapped a talon on his head at the mention of hardware.

"Never figured myself as a... high maintenance gal, Forge."

"A little maintenance is good for everyone, Firefly."

"Nnngh." Firefly's response was half grunted and half sighed. Even the armory tech could tell she was on edge. It was going to be a long day.

"Uh, boss?"

Thunderlane's voice made Firefly's cheeks burn and her ears droop. They'd heard the whole thing. Firefly gritted her teeth, forced herself to stand up straight, and turned her head to face the hatch.

"I have to go over some repairs with Forge. I'll be at debrief momentarily."

Thunderlane hesitated for a moment, but Firefly's determined glare put him off what he was about to say. The flier merely finished with a simple, "Aye, ma'am," and departed.

Firefly turned back to Forge. "Can you fix it?"

"I'll get your '16 fixed before your next sortie," Forge sighed. "Your simulator carbine is ready to go for training tomorrow."

"Thanks." Firefly turned and stepped toward the hatch, but paused just before crossing the threshold. "Forge?"

"Firefly?"

"I'm sorry." Firefly managed a wan smile. "I'll see what I can do about 'maintenance.'"

"It'll do you good, Firefly. I promise."

The ready room was no place for a combat flier. Firefly stifled a yawn with her hoof. Brahma had requested an immediate debrief of all VFA-108 elements that had participated in the fight over Onyx as soon as they arrived at the Majestic. Firefly knew that it was better to get accounts while the memories were still fresh. But at the same time, she was tired, hungry, and uncomfortably grimy from the hellish environment through which she'd just flown. She mused that those things combined would detract far more from an accurate testimony than a proper lunch and an afternoon nap.

"... FOB Onyx is going to need serious work to bring it back online. But if it wasn't for the work of Timberwolf and responding Alliance forces, the toll could have been much worse..."

Firefly sighed softly. Brahma's usual candor had been replaced with the 'professional' drone of an Alliance officer. She knew that it was being done for the sake of the nuggets and the other squads that weren't so well acquainted with her, but Firefly still didn't care for it. Military bureaucracy would always be an eternal pain in the flank.

"You all fought well. I have no less than two dozen confirmed victories among all responders and one capital ship disabled. Despite their superior numbers, we dealt the enemy a crippling blow today."

"However, that brings up the issue of the enemy themselves." Brahma paused a moment to glance at her fliers before continuing. "Because of the unusual nature of the attack, I wanted to have your after action reports compiled ASAP in person, which is why I recalled you to the Majestic. We have reinforced Onyx and are maintaining airship presence in the area to deter subsequent incursions. I will have more information when the REIN analysts get back to me. Any questions?"

Quiet glances were exchanged between all present company, but nopony spoke up.

"You're all dismissed," she said as she clapped her hoof on the deck. "Lieutenant Commanders Firefly and Roshina, a word with you, please?"

Firefly remained in her seat as the other fliers filed out. Ordinarily, being asked to stay behind would be reason for concern. But of course, it was Firefly herself who had requested an audience.

"Do you want us to stay, Firefly?"

"Hit the showers, Thunderlane. I have to go over a few things with the CAG real quick."

Thunderlane managed a sloppy half-salute to her before trotting off with the others. The ready room emptied as pony, griffon, and areion alike filed out. Finally, only three remained; Brahma Kamal, Roshina, and Firefly herself.

"Commanders," Brahma began, "I'd like to go over a few issues in the Onyx report. Just prior to the Hresvelgr's intervention and subsequent enemy retreat, there was a rather egregious friendly fire incident. I'd like to hear both sides, starting with you, Firefly."

Firefly jumped into her testimony immediately. "As I said in my after-action report, Lieutenant Commander al-Majed fired self-seeking magic missiles into the furball, knowing that they would seek any target — including friendlies. She very well could have killed me or my squad during the attack and not even known it."

Brahma Kamal stepped out from behind the podium, pacing before the two squad leaders as she listened. Firefly tried to read her, but Brahma betrayed nothing. The areion resettled her wings and spoke to Roshina. "Roshina? Do you have a rebuttal?"

Roshina looked to Firefly for a moment before turning to Brahma. As she spoke, she moved her talons to indicate relative positions of the units in question. "My squad was coming in from the northeast, which placed us beyond the outer flak field. During the attack, we saw tracer exchange up ahead of the flak field, which we presumed were coming from Hydra team. We did not anticipate Timberwolf flight being engaged deep within the enemy formation. Running into the griffons in the basin was very much a surprise. When we discovered that we were behind the enemy, I believed that my unit had the tactical advantage, so I ordered them to engage while I provided support with my spells."

"And you discontinued use of missile spells after you made radio contact with Timberwolf?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Allow me to add to that," Firefly interjected. "Roshina fired a second salvo despite the fact that I made radio contact. I was the target of one of the missiles during the second salvo, which nearly killed me. If that isn't gross negligence, I don't know what is!"

Roshina glanced at Firefly for a moment. But where Firefly had expected a venomous glare, she found something different. Roshina appeared genuinely wounded by Firefly's retort. Firefly's eyes narrowed. What was she playing at here?

"To be fair, after I realized I was firing on friendly forces within the furball, I refrained from further use of missile spells, instead switching to close range dragonfire and melee." Roshina turned and addressed Brahma directly. "I immediately placed my unit on weapons tight; they were only to fire on positively identified hostiles."

"Do you believe this absolves you of responsibility for the incident?" Brahma asked.

"What the hay kind of question is that?" Firefly said jumping up on her hooves.

Brahma held a hoof up in a halting gesture. "Let her speak, Firefly."

Of course she was responsible! Firefly snarled in her mind. I almost died back there! That snake would do anything to weasel her way out of punishment! Firefly could feel it in her bones. But she was on to her. When Roshina tried to escape, Firefly would be there to jump her.

"On the contrary," Roshina replied. "Lieutenant Commander Firefly is right. I made a poor judgment call in directly attacking the pirate formation. I was under the impression that no friendly fliers remained in the area, so I ordered my team to fire at will. I should have radioed in first."

"Everyone knows that’s horseap — wait, what did you say?" Firefly sputtered.

"I said you were right," Roshina said, bowing her head slightly. "I was in error for initiating the attack without waiting for a response from friendly units."

Firefly was speechless. Roshina? Admit that she was wrong? Or more importantly, sincerely admit she was wrong? It was the second part that bothered Firefly the most. Even in the short time she'd known of her, Firefly had gotten a feeling for Roshina. She was slimy as a hydra and grinned like a madpony when called out on it. But that uncomfortable aura of smugness and slyness was suddenly gone, leaving Firefly thoroughly confused.

"In conclusion, Commander, I admit full culpability for the incident and will accept any disciplinary action you choose to issue." Roshina finished.

"Firefly?" Brahma turned to her as she spoke. "Since you were the victim in the incident, I think you should have a say in what needs to be done."

It was implicit power. Firefly could do whatever she wanted. She could kick that smug snake in the teeth and knock her down a few pegs. She could have her scrubbing latrines for a month. She could denigrate and humiliate on command. But somehow, she didn't feel right doing it. Sincerity was something Firefly valued. It was also something Firefly readily picked up on. Roshina's resignment was legitimate as far as Firefly could tell. Firefly bruxed her teeth. Hopefully she didn't regret what she was about to do.

"You’re forgiven..." she said slowly. "As long as you don’t let it happen again."

"Then it's settled." Brahma rapped her hoof on the deck to bring the meeting to a close. "Because of the extraordinary circumstances of this incident and the lack of friendly casualties, I will not issue disciplinary action... this time. Let us make a learning experience of this."

"Yes ma'am," Firefly and Roshina said in unison.

"You're dismissed."

Firefly took wing and glided to the exit hatch. She was confused — not just with Roshina, but with herself. An unintelligible curse left her lips as she paused just outside the threshold. Inside the ready room, Roshina and Brahma Kamal exchanged a few final words before the clacking of talons on the deck began moving toward the hatch. As Roshina stepped into the corridor, Firefly grabbed her by the arm. Though her shoulder burned from the wound, she gritted her teeth and ignored it. She had to know.

"Hey!" The dragon hissed at being accosted. "What was that for?"

"We need to talk, Roshina."

"About what?"

"Against my better judgment, I didn't get you slapped with disciplinary action." Firefly glared at Roshina as she spoke. "But I pride myself on being a good judge of character and I never figured you to back down like you did. What the hell is going on here?"

Roshina stared at Firefly, perplexed, for a moment before a wan smile tugged at her mouth. The slight smile spread until it wrested control of her entire mouth. From the smile, sprang laughter. Roshina's laugh began as a soft snicker before rapidly escalating to a full-on cackle. Firefly raised an eyebrow in confusion, confusion which rapidly turned to anger.

"What's so funny?" She snarled.

Roshina held up a claw in a halting gesture as she covered her mouth with the other. It took a moment, but finally Roshina was able to contain herself enough to speak. "I'm sorry, Firefly. But you are so serious about this!"

"I shouldn't be serious about getting to the bottom of things?"

"The bottom of what, Firefly?" Roshina held her hands out palms up to emphasize her point. "You think I'm trying to trick you by admitting fault for the incident?"

Firefly had no answer. The more she thought about it, the less she had to go on. Roshina had been tried and cleared by Brahma and even Firefly herself.

Seeing Firefly's hesitation, Roshina continued. "I understand if you don't accept my apology. You're a mare of action. My words are probably meaningless to you, especially in the wake of a near-death experience."

"I was concerned because of the spat last night at the Six Carat Horseshoe."

"So you think I'm going to put a petty dispute above my job? Would I really try to murder you over something as silly as an argument in a bar on shore leave?"

"What if I said yes?"

"I don't think you give me enough credit!" Her eyes narrowed at Firefly's remark, but softened again as she continued. "I'm trying to take steps to be friendly, Firefly. Believe it or not, I actually have a lot of respect for your accomplishments."

"My accomplishments?" Firefly lifted her ear, curious as to what Roshina would say.

"I had no idea who you were before I read the AAR. It finally dawned on me when I talked to Brahma just now."

"I don't follow."

It was a lie. Firefly knew exactly where Roshina was going with this and she didn't like it one bit. Roshina was planning to talk about things that Firefly never wanted to talk about again.

"Don't be too modest, Firefly. You're something of a celebrity in the SOF community, even as far south as Pyrian ACG. The Equestrian Timberwolves, Heroes of Valdus!"

"No one was a hero at Valdus," Firefly said darkly.

The sudden gravitas of Firefly's words immediately dampened the conversation. Firefly stared blankly forward through eyes half-lidded from fatigue, looking through Roshina rather than at her. The dragon picked up on her cues and changed the subject.

"Look Firefly, I know we started off on the wrong foot, but I don't like leaving loose ends. I figured it wouldn't kill me to swallow my pride and try to make amends. We're on the same side, after all. But I'm not going to put a knife to your throat and ask you to respect me."

"Respect is earned, Roshina."

"I know. I'm not even asking for that. I'm just offering friendship. Whether or not you choose to accept my offer is up to you."

The bomb was dropped. Firefly's head spun from the implications. Roshina wanted to be friends? Did Pyrian dragons even understand what friendship was? Firefly's incredulity was rapidly overriden by her common sense. Roshina had not shown any indications of being duplicitous this encounter — as much as Firefly hated to admit it. There was a long pause before Firefly spoke again.

"We don't get a lot of friends up here, so we could use all the friends we can get," she finally said. Suddenly, it seemed that the great weight of her prior words had been lifted from the conversation. Though she was far from perky, Firefly now felt comfortable enough to crack a joke. "Besides, I guess what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, eh?"

It was enough to elicit a chuckle from Roshina. The dragon glanced quickly at the clock in the corridor. "I need to file a report with ACG before they'll throw me a chit for R&R, so I should get going."

"Have fun."

Roshina smiled and issued a casual mock salute. "I’ll be seeing you, Firefly."

Tepid drops pattered upon tin roofs. Undulating rills snaked down miniature gravel ravines and dirt canyons. The world faded into a dim mist, a warm foggy blanket that wrapped the senses in natural rhythms and damp, hazy softness.

The old cabin outside Fillydelphia barely passed as a building, being little more than stacked logs shimmed with peat with a roof of discarded corrugated metal sheeting -- not that Firefly minded. The spartan nature of the cabin was endearing -- refreshing, even. The walls shielded her from the wind and the roof was enough to keep the rain off when it came. It was a great place to rough it for the weekend when she needed to get away from everything.

It rained often out there. But while rain in the city evoked images of faceless, colorless ponies trudging through cold, wet streets, the woods were colorful, tranquil, and relaxing. Sometimes Firefly liked to stand outside in the rain, gazing at the sky while it gently kissed her body with glittering droplets of quicksilver.

Firefly opened her eyes and sighed. Tiny, translucent beads clung to her mane and coat and feathers while lukewarm water continued to cascade over her muzzle and neck. But in the end she could only suspend her disbelief for so long. The image of a tin roof in her mind’s eye vanished, replaced with coated metal flooring. The gentle caress of rain gave way to the languid trickle of greywater from the ship's showerhead. Throbbing pains all over and the persistent soot that clung to her coat reminded her that she was a long way from Fillydelphia.

A flick of her hoof shut the weak spray of water off. Firefly dipped her muzzle down to grab her soap bottle, squeezing a few drops into the washrag she had tucked under her wing. She lathered herself, taking extra care to scrub at the cuts and bruises that dotted her coat. Dirty scabs and obstinate stains the color of ash from her coat were cleared with swipes of the wash rag. Tender bruises were gingerly brushed clean. Shampoo suds dribbled out of her mane, down her neck and shoulders, pooling on the floor below her front hooves.

Firefly looked down at the bruises on her chest and barrel. Once again the flak jacket had saved her life. Bone-shattering impacts had been reduced to mere bruises. Otherwise fatal cuts had been reduced to tiny scrapes and tender spots. It was a miracle she hadn't been crippled in that last fight, or really any of the fights she'd survived. She sighed as she worked her way down, cleaning her sides, hindquarters, and hind hooves. Her body cleaned, she returned to her wings. Her flight feathers were similarly stained and in a state of complete disarray. She'd have to remember to preen afterward.

The methodical cleaning liberated her body, but did nothing for the thoughts that swirled within Firefly’s head. In spite of her headway with Roshina, the time alone in the shower brought every dark thought back with a vengeance. Foggy, half-formed words and blurry images tumbled about like snowflakes in a storm. But the more she thought about it, the fewer questions she had about what had happened over Onyx Base.

She’d lost control.

She wasn’t worried about controlling combat. Combat was violent, unruly, and unpredictable. The combat didn’t need to be controlled. But she did. She had to be aware of the battlespace. She had to know who was doing what at all times. She had to be able to make snap decisions when life and death hung in the balance.

But that wasn’t what happened. What happened was in the present, but what she’d seen was in the past. Firefly rubbed a hoof to her forehead. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen things that weren’t there, felt things that weren’t happening. But she’d had it under control before. What changed?

"Mind if I join you?" The question was less a request than a statement of intent.

Turning around, Firefly’s eyes fell upon Eastwind. Her lithe, wiry frame was sans uniform, the removal of her flight jacket and combat tunic leaving comically-clean sections of pale yellow coat bracketed by grey stains from ash, gunsmoke, and sweat. Eastwind wasted no time in sauntering into the showers and flipping on an adjacent head. Her incorrigible perkiness stood in stark contrast to Firefly’s tired brooding.

Firefly sniffed in mock contempt before replying. "It's the head. It's open to the whole damn ship!"

"I was being polite." A smirk played at Eastwind’s lips, as she shook out her mane and gave her tail a flick into the showerhead’s spray.

"Never figured you to be the polite type."

"I have my moments," she teased. "I figured I'd at least give you time to lather up while my ass wasn't taking up space in the showers!"

Firefly gave her a sidelong glance before returning to her task. Feathers were laid back into place, grime was scrubbed off pinions, and aching joints were painfully moved through their full range of motion. She flicked the water on again. Firefly winced and grunted in pain as the washed-off soap bit into the wound on her shoulder.

Firefly's paroxysm attracted the attention of her wingmare. "You did go see the medics, right?"

"They came to me," Firefly grunted through gritted teeth. "I sent them on to more urgent casualties."

Eastwind stepped out of the stream of her own shower and gently laid a hoof on Firefly’s back. Her eyes darted down to the wound, studying it. Firefly’s entire body tensed under Eastwind’s touch. "You should get that stitched up in the med bay."

"I have to clean it first, Windy!" The words were out of Firefly’s mouth before she could think about them.

Eastwind visibly recoiled at the sudden shout. Her ears drooped and her tail flicked nervously for a split second before she regained her composure. Firefly looked down, unable to maintain eye contact with her. She was out of line and she knew it.

"Just saying.” Eastwind’s reply was guarded, clearly in anticipation of a physical rebuke to follow the verbal one.

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence. Though Firefly didn’t meet her eyes, she could tell there was something on the tip of Eastwind’s tongue. Finally, her wingmare spoke, this time barely above a whisper. "You don't need any more scars..."

Firefly felt her gut twist. Eastwind didn't deserve this. She might have had the patience of a saint, but she was still mortal. Sooner or later that was going to break down. She had no obligation to deal with this day in and day out. This was Firefly’s fight, and hers alone. Not even Eastwind could help that.

"No, Windy," Firefly said, finally looking up. "I know what you're thinking, but no. I just need some sleep. I'll be fine in the morning."

"I’m really starting to hate a certain word." Eastwind’s response was gentle but firm. "I'll let you guess which one."

"I'll be..." Firefly trailed off. A bitter taste lingered in her mouth, as if the words themselves had become unpalatable.

"Look Fi." Eastwind’s expression softened further. "I can't help but worry. How long have we been flying together now?"

"Three years," Firefly mumbled.

"We survived a war and a half and then some." Eastwind took a step closer as she spoke. "We didn't do that by being jackasses to each other. We worked together; shored up our weaknesses; capitalized on our strengths. But most importantly, we helped bear each others' burdens."

"I’ll be fine," Firefly repeated, though she no longer believed her own words. She closed her eyes and let her head droop. "I just need some time alone..."

The sudden warmth of a another's coat on her own made Firefly jerk back in surprise. Her response was thwarted by a foreleg hooked around her neck, dragging her into Eastwind’s embrace. Firefly stiffened at the touch, fighting every thought of breaking free with everything she had. Eastwind showed no signs of releasing her.

Firefly stood there for a long moment, Eastwind’s foreleg wrapped around her in wordless embrace. Water from the showerhead covered them in a soft blanket of mist. Finally, Firefly relaxed enough to bring her own foreleg up to complete the hug. For the first time in a long time, Firefly felt warm; not the hateful radiance of a shipboard fire or the sharp sting of a freshly fired gun barrel, but a slow, gentle warmth that could only come from another pony.

"You don’t need to be alone, Fi." Eastwind broke the silence at last, also breaking the hug. She gently nuzzled Firefly’s cheek before pulling back, sliding her front hooves so that one rested on each of Firefly’s shoulders. Eastwind looked her straight in the eyes. "You need time with us. You're not just our squadmate, you're our friend. We take care of our own."

Firefly nodded weakly. When she spoke, it came out slightly hoarse. "Thanks, Windy. Sometimes... I just need somepony to remind me of that.”

"Hey, that’s what I’m here for!" Eastwind replied, her trademark grin returning. She patted Firefly on her good shoulder. "Now c’mon, let’s get cleaned up! I'm starving! Thunderlane and Sunburst are probably stuffing their faces in the galley already!"

Galley traffic was light. Most of the lunch crowd had filed out hours ago, leaving only a hoof full of ponies or griffons seated with hot drink and reading material. Firefly and Eastwind trotted in fresh, sporting clean uniforms and clean coats after shedding the remnants of the morning's battle. Firefly's shower had been followed by a visit to the med bay, where she grudgingly allowed the corpspony to stitch up her shoulder. Admittedly she did feel better, though she'd never say it out loud.

The two collected their coffee, fruit, and instant oats and trotted to the tables. Firefly would very much have preferred to be able to finish her bulgar, but it had sadly gone missing during the Onyx attack. As they approached, Firefly caught wind of conversation at one of the tables.

"So there I was, surrounded by Red Talons! My '16 was overheated, my BLX was spent, and four assault rifles and two longspears were pointed right at my head..."

The voice was obviously that of Sunburst, who was engaged in one of his trademark storytelling sessions. His performance was heated, with hooves being waved around to indicate actions and emphasize his words. His audience, an areion lieutenant and the celeste-coated mare from the Six Carat Horseshoe sat enraptured with his tale. Meanwhile, Thunderlane sat with his head on the table failing to hide his exasperation.

A wan smirk crossed Firefly's face. She spoke to Eastwind as they paused a few meters from the table. "You think they actually believe the horseapples he's spouting?"

"Does it matter?" Eastwind chuckled. "They seem entertained. How much do you want to bet he says he fought an Ironclad?"

"Not taking that bet, Windy. We both know he'd do it in a heartbeat."

"... and then came the Ironclad! His armor gleamed like polished gold. His eyes blazed like fire. In one gnarled talon was a vicious greatsword and in the other a repeating cannon ripped right off an airship deck!"

"Totally called it," Eastwind said matter-of-factly.

"He needs to give it a rest."

Firefly shook her head at the sheer ridiculousness of the story. To give Sunburst credit, he was wounded in action during the Battle of Onyx. The bandages around his neck covered a wound that could very easily have turned fatal, a lasting reminder that even the best fliers were not invincible.

"Nah, let him finish," Eastwind chuckled. "No need to piss on his parade."

Sunburst showed no signs of stopping. The speed and frequency of his hoof gestures increased, now including facial expressions, voice impressions, and running commentary. "... and then I felt a sharp pain in my neck! I was hit! But I didn't let that stop me! I wound up and punched that Ironclad so hard it cracked the lens in his helmet! Then I hit the emergency coolant switch to give my RA-16 the last bit of juice it needed! I aimed for the eye and..."

"Sunburst?" Firefly said as she finally trooted to the table. "What terrible things have you been regaling the foals with today?"

"Ah, Firefly, Eastwind!" With a hearty chuckle, Sunburst waved them over to free seats at his table. "How nice of you to join us! I was in the middle of the harrowing tale of the Battle of Onyx! Have a seat. I was just getting to the best part!"

"Would that be before or after you face-tanked the seventy-six-mils and ballistic lances?" Eastwind teased.

"After of course!"

Firefly snorted. "Gimme a break!"

While Firefly and Eastwind set their trays down on the table and conversed with Sunburst, the two newcomers merely sat quietly, glancing at each other occasionally. Several times, Thunderlane appeared to move to speak, but never did. Finally, Stormy and her areion companion stood from their seats.

"We'd better get moving, Shadow," she said. "We've got drill in twenty minutes!"

"Uh..." Thunderlane managed enough of an utterance to get Stormy's attention.

"I'll see you around, Thunderlane," she replied with a smile and a wave.

Sunburst, never wanting to miss getting a word in, shouted after them. "If you kids ever need pointers, feel free to come back any time!"

"Thunderlane put you up to this?" Firefly said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, Firefly. He put himself up to it," Thunderlane said, still face down on the table. "I sat down to talk to Stormy and Shadow while they were on break and Sunburst comes up all like 'Let me sing you the song of my people!'"

Firefly stifled a laugh with a free hoof. Poor Thunderlane! His dreams of romance and companionship shattered by one crusty old flier! Firefly tapped the table in front of Thunderlane to get his attention while she slid into her seat.

"Apple?" Firefly offered.

"I already ate." Thunderlane waved it off.

"Poor Thunderlane," Eastwind cooed sympathetically.

"You're welcome," Sunburst cracked.

"No, you're welcome!" Firefly countered. "We just saved you from the embarrassment of having to eat your own hoof!"

"However do you mean?"

Firefly rolled her eyes. "I give you credit for the description of the Ironclad. Very well-crafted. But the rest of that was clearly horseapples. A seventy-six-mil off the deck of an airship? And a greatsword? Really?"

"You forgot the part where he got hit in the neck with the seventy-six," Eastwind chimed in.

"In Sunburst-verse, .455 caliber obviously translates to 76 millimeter," Thunderlane added, rolling his eyes.

"You're a piece of work, you know that?" Firefly said. "Only pony I know who can turn getting grazed by a pirate mook's handgun into getting assaulted by an Ironclad with a machine cannon and a greatsword."

"Aren't I the best?" Sunburst's grin could have split his face.

"Sing it to the oatmeal, Sunshine!"

"I would've preferred a beer and hay fries."

"File a request to FleetCOM to change the menus. I'm sure they'd be happy to help you out!"

"As if! You know they'd just ship us more near-beer and moldy bulgar!"

"I figured you'd be used to drinking that piss-water. Wasn't that a favorite of you Manehattan U boys?"

"Hey! We had enough class not to get anything resembling near-beer!"

"Sometimes I wonder if what you ponies call ale is but another label of near-beer!"

Everypony's head swiveled around at the sound of the new voice. Sunburst's eyes went wide. Thunderlane leaned backwards in an attempt to back away. Eastwind cocked her head to the side, perplexed. For a moment, there was only silence. Firefly was the last one to turn around. She knew that voice. She knew their agreement. Now she had to break it to her team.

"Roshina?"

"Firefly! Good to see you again!" Her toothy dragon grin was incorrigible.

Firefly looked to her still frozen squadmates for a moment before cautiously turning back to Roshina. "I thought you had a meeting to attend?"

"It was less a meeting and more a brief filing of paperwork." Roshina shrugged. "It didn't take terribly long at all."

Roshina's relaxed attitude slowly put Firefly at ease, finally allowing her to signal briefly to her squad that Roshina was friendly. "It's okay guys. It's just Roshina."

"But I thought—" Before Thunderlane could finish the thought, Sunburst jammed a hoof in his mouth and shook his head vigorously in protest.

Eastwind gently brushed Firefly's shoulder and whispered in her ear. "So everything is all right between you two?"

"Yeah," Firefly said as she brushed Eastwind's hoof away. "We're good. Just starting over, you know?"

Eastwind closed her eyes for a moment before replying. "If you say she's good with you, she's good with me."

"Are your friends all right back there?" Roshina suddenly said.

Eastwind and Firefly turned around to find Sunburst and Thunderlane in the midst of a slap fight. Thunderlane had not appreciated Sunburst's attempted silencing of him and had taken to breaking his headlock and trying to push him out of his seat. Firefly raised an eyebrow. Eastwind sprang a giggle fit. Eastwind's laughter was contagious and soon even Roshina and Firefly were laughing a long.

"Back off, Sunburst! She said we were good!" Thunderlane said between hoof slaps to the face.

"I wasn't worried about the blue one!"

Turning around and looking past Roshina, Firefly could see that Khog had come up behind Roshina, the obvious reason for Sunburst's distress. Sunburst and Thunderlane froze in place as Khog finally arrived.

"Roshina! I didn't catch you before you left the ready room! I thought—" Khog stopped dead when he realized who was seated at the table. His eyes narrowed and an ever so slight sneer of disdain flashed across his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had... company."

"Now, now, Khog," Roshina chided him with a waggled claw, "That's no way to greet the Heroes of Valdus, is it?"

Firefly cringed at the epithet. Did she really have to keep using it? Roshina was by all accounts sincere in her respect and interest, but it was still uncomfortable. At the mention of Valdus, Khog's eyes went wide, a look of incredulity crossing his face. He looked to Sunburst and Thunderlane, then to Roshina, then to Eastwind and Firefly, as if to ask if it was even possible. Roshina nodded at the unspoken question.

Was that really all it took to turn the dragons around? One mention of Valdus had caused Khog's attitude to about-face in the manner of a religious experience. Firefly studied Khog's face as he formulated a reply. With Roshina's pronouncement, a distinct change came over him, an air of deference foreign to the otherwise proud warrior.

"My apologies for so rudely interrupting," he said, quickly bowing his head before backing away. "I'll be taking my leave. I'll see you on the flight deck, Roshina."

"Heroes?" Thunderlane asked nopony in particular.

"Flattery," Firefly said flatly.

"Such modesty." Roshina said with a smile. "I have a meeting with the brass that I have to leave for soon. I just thought I'd offer you all the same courtesy I offered Firefly."

The other Timberwolves glanced quizzically at each other, then to Firefly, then to Roshina. Firefly sighed. Now was as good a time as any to explain.

"She's not that bad," Firefly finally said. "More friends across the squadron is always a good thing, right?"

"Perhaps we started off on the wrong foot — or hoof. I assure you I won't bite, so long as you're on my side of course!"

Thunderlane immediately stood from his seat, trotting right up to Roshina before greeting her, "Good to meet you officially, Roshina."

Thunderlane extended a hoof to shake which was immediately answered with the dragonness' claw. At Thunderlane's lead, whatever animosity had remained evaporated. The remaining squad members stood and shook hooves with Roshina, formally sealing the agreement of friendship.

"I'm glad we could sort things out, Firefly," Roshina concluded. "But I'd best get going or I'll be late."

"Take care, Roshina."

With a wave, the dragonness departed. There was a beat of silence as the Timberwolves watched her disappear beyond the doors of the galley. Finally, Firefly returned to her seat, beginning to work on the instant oats that had finally cooled to edible temperature. As she lifted the bowl to her lips, however, she winced at the movement of flesh around her shoulder.

"You okay, jefa?" Thunderlane asked.

"'Hefa?'" Firefly set her bowl back down and cocked her head quizzically.

Thunderlane shrugged. "Something my old sire used to say. Just means boss, but he never used it unless he had the utmost respect for her."

It was enough to elicit a wan smile from Firefly. "Cute."

"Something bothering you?" Thunderlane continued.

"Shoulder," she replied flatly.

"Lieutenant Colonel Badass over here decided to skip out on Vanderfalke's medics back at Onyx!" Eastwind chimed in.

"I was being courteous." Firefly dismissed the remark. "There were a lot of personnel that couldn't even walk, let alone fly."

"I see," Thunderlane said quietly. He stared at the table for a moment before raising his gaze to meet Firefly's. "Firefly, I have to ask you something."

"Spit it out, kid."

Thunderlane wrung his hooves and moved his lips as if chewing over the words before speaking. "Look, jefa, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I can handle myself. I've trained just as much as everypony else that got put on this op and I had Sunburst backing me up. Why did you come to get me?"

Firefly finished slurping up a bit of her oats and stared blankly at Thunderlane. The kid wasn't stupid. He knew that Firefly went far out of her way to assist him when he clearly didn't require assistance. But Firefly knew he wouldn't understand, at least not now. She raised her apple to her lips and took a large bite.

"You're my wingpony," she said matter-of-factly between crunches. "It's my responsibility to look out for you."

"It's our responsibility to look out for each other," he corrected her. "But that also involves trust; trust that the other pony can get things done when it counts."

Firefly continued to munch on her apple. If it were Skywind he were addressing, Thunderlane would have been knocked on his ass so fast his head would spin. Thankfully, however, Firefly valued frankness over form. After all, insubordination was merely another form of creative thinking. Firefly swallowed the bite of apple and finished her thought.

"You're right. But trust is also acknowledging that training isn't experience," she countered. "Live combat isn't anything like OCS, Thunderlane. You're not ready for ops yet. If I'd known there would be a fight over Onyx like there was, I would never have let you fly."

Thunderlane looked hurt. A pang of guilt gnawed at Firefly's chest. Thunderlane was eager to help and he was good at what he did. There shouldn't have been so much concern. Was she saying what she was saying to cover her own ass? Yes. But was Thunderlane ready for combat operations with only one exceptional fight under his saddle? No. Firefly focused on that as Thunderlane prepared another counter-argument.

"The only way to train for ops is to go on ops," he said. "I'm ready. You saw me in the fight over Onyx!"

"They must have sent the nuggets after us because they didn't expect much resistance. Next time we might not be so lucky. You need to be ready."

"And how do you propose I do that if you don't want me to fly ops?"

"Simple. You're going to fight me."

"What." Thunderlane's response was less an interrogative and more a declaration of stunned surprise.

To be certain, Firefly had planned this from the start. On their next training block, she wanted to evaluate Thunderlane's skills against her own. Now was as good a time as any to give him Firefly's brand of instruction.

"You're going to fight me," Firefly repeated. "We have a slot reserved for ACM training tomorrow. You're going to show me what you've got."

Thunderlane stared at Firefly a moment, his face cycling through a full spectrum of emotion. Firefly saw fear, joy, confusion, and finally determination as Thunderlane puffed up his chest and replied. "I won't disappoint you, ma'am!"

"That's the spirit!" Firefly smiled. "And stop calling me 'ma'am'!"

Firefly enjoyed a hearty laugh with her squad. For a moment, she was able to forget her wounds and her fatigue. They were soldiers, but more importantly, they were friends.

"So Sunburst!" Eastwind said. "Where were you before we so rudely interrupted?"

The old sire smiled, eyes twinkling with glee at the opportunity to continue spinning his yarn.

"So there I was, surrounded by Ironclads..."

5. Tango

View Online

Firefly found herself awake ahead of her alarm. Reaching over to switch the alarm clock off, she silently dressed herself, donning uniform, goggles, and harness. She then flopped back into her bunk, wings spread and hooves splayed. They were few, but Firefly enjoyed these little moments of respite before being dragged back into the cold sea of military routine. In the space between, with no action to keep her attention, Firefly’s mind began to wander.

Her right hoof twisted through a carefully practiced mnemonic motion, unlocking and deploying her knife. Without engaging the lock, Firefly began to twirl it about her hoof, the blade making a soft whirring noise as it circled around its track. A karambit, they’d called it. When she’d bought her first one, it was from a griffon street peddler in Beakbreak City just before the War. The curved blade with simple wooden grips was a harvesting tool, a symbol of the everypony who made their living through the sweat of their brow.

Though Firefly's knife bore a superficial resemblance to its bauble brethren, this blade was made for war. A full tang locked into the bracer at her wrist, a circular cutout allowed it to spin freely about its deployment mechanism. The sheath was composed of coated metal, its surface stippled for grip and stealth. The blade itself was stark black, its edge glinting with the unearthly sheen of adamantite. As the knife blade continued to slowly gyrate about her hoof, Firefly looked to the small picture frame on her foot locker.

The photo within was yellowed with age, the paper dulled and stained with sweat, dirt, and old gun grease. But in its protective casing it was easy to see what it held. Four pegasi stood on an ARC ship deck, their forelegs over each other’s shoulders, each grinning at the camera. It was still wartime in the photo – the empty shell casings near the ARC ship’s machine gun cupola, the flash burns and scarred paint on the deck, and the dirty manes and matted fur of the four pegasi were all evidence of that. But in that moment, forever frozen in time, they were together. They were happy...

...as happy as she was the day she’d been given her blade. A flick of Firefly’s wrist locked the knife open. Just like the ponies in the photograph, Powder’s birthday gift hadn’t aged a day since Firefly had received it. She stared hard at its glittering adamantite edge. Was this really all that was left of her? A gift that could only destroy?

“You awake, Fi?” came a hushed whisper from the hatch of the bunk room. Firefly quickly flicked the blade closed and rolled to view the hatch. As much as she would have preferred to roll the other direction and go back to sleep, she couldn’t leave company hanging.

“Yeah. Just woke up,” she said to Eastwind’s silhouette. “You weren’t going to sleep a bit longer? We don’t even have to be awake for another half-hour.”

“Just got back from the head,” Eastwind yawned. “I woke up before the alarm, so I figured I’d be productive instead of sleeping in.”

There was a brief pause. Though Firefly could hardly see her, she was sure that Eastwind was watching her. Finally, her wingmare spoke again. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” Firefly dragged the response. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well last night you—”

“Don’t worry about me, Windy,” Firefly cut her off. Gods bless her she’s persistent. Firefly gritted her teeth, but resisted the urge to lash out again. It was too early in the day to get into this. “I’ve got it under control.”

“It’s not about control, Fi.”

“We’re really going to have this argument again?”

“I’m not here to argue,” Eastwind said. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need me.”

Firefly took a deep breath. Lectures weren’t on her docket for the day anyway. She was glad that Eastwind felt the same.

“Besides, we haven’t spent proper time together in a while!” Hooves echoed on metal decking as Eastwind trotted into the bunk room, stopping next to Firefly’s bed. A smirk was clearly visible on her muzzle. “Gotta take what we can get, right?”

“C’mere, you!” Firefly snickered, sitting up and scooting over to make room on the bed. Eastwind took a seat next to Firefly, sliding up next to her wingmare. She turned her head to follow where Firefly had fixed her eyes. A faint smile crossed her lips as she caught glimpse of the photograph.

“Feels like that was taken forever ago,” Eastwind said. “I’m surprised your copy even survived the war.”

“Only halfway. If I take it out of the frame, the paper would probably evaporate.”

“I remember when we took that picture,” she said as she reached over to pick the photo up. “Zero Point took that shot after we retook Neighvarrone Battery in Ferrum.”

“Ugh, Zero,” Firefly spat. “She was a bitch.”

Eastwind raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re the only one who thinks that.”

“Only sparkmuzzle I know who saw fit to critique my ACM. Did she even go to flight school?”

It wasn’t that Firefly was antisocial. She was far from it. However, when ponies rubbed her the wrong way, they usually never came back. Eastwind, of course, being one of the few exceptions. To Firefly, being in the horseapples with somepony secured friendship much faster than having them lecture her via wireless.

“She did, actually,” Eastwind answered.

“How the hay do you know?”

“Because I, you know, talked to her?” Eastwind elbowed Firefly in jest. “Ponies will talk to you if you actually give them the time of day.”

“Or shake your ass at them,” Firefly sneered back.

“Classy, Fi. Real classy.” Eastwind snapped her tail at Firefly’s flank in admonishment. “But I’ll admit Zero did have a thing for me. Can’t say I was looking for another mare at that point, though.”

The two were quiet for a moment, only the sounds of Firefly’s ticking alarm clock and the faint clip-clops of distant hoof falls surrounding them. Eastwind broke the silence by pointing to the photo again. “Look at Sunburst. He only had half as many grey hairs!”

Firefly smirked. “And you look like a foal in Army uniform!”

“Hey! We were short on gear that early in the Ironheart Campaign! My flak vest was way oversized during the Neighvarrone fight — rode like a slobberknockered stallion!”

“Shuffled around up top and slapped your ass a bunch, but never satisfied you?”

“Exactly. The damn thing fit like a pillow case. Worst one-night stand in my life! I had to rub one out like crazy after that shit!” The two shared a good laugh, finally tapering off as both their eyes fell upon the young mare next to Firefly.

“Powder really grew up, didn’t she?” Eastwind said softly.

“Yeah...” came the muted reply.

“You did her good, Firefly. She learned a lot from you.”

“What did you expect?” Firefly shrugged as if it was nothing, but spoke quietly after. “We always had each other’s backs.”

Firefly shivered involuntarily. Eastwind probably couldn’t feel it, but it was cold... so cold. Sensing her friend’s discomfort, Eastwind leaned into Firefly, wrapping her forelegs around her neck and gently nuzzling her cheek.

“We still do, Fi – all of us. We’re in this together, remember?”

Firefly sighed and tried to relax, resting her head on Eastwind’s and closing her eyes. True warmth was something that she sorely missed. She nestled into Eastwind’s mane and finally relaxed. The respite, however, was short-lived. The ringing of an alarm clock in the adjacent bunk room interrupted their moment.

Eastwind let out an exasperated sigh and gave Firefly one last squeeze before sliding out of bed. “Forgot to turn off my alarm clock. I’ll see you on the flight deck, Firefly.”

It pained Firefly to separate. It took all she had not to leap after Eastwind and cling to her. Tense hooves dug into ruffled sheets and splayed feathers on twitching wings were barely fettered in time to stop them from launching Firefly from her bunk. Eastwind paused for a moment at the hatch, as if to acknowledge the tension. A quick glance over her shoulder, however, showed Firefly with her back turned, gently placing the photograph back in place on her footlocker. Her curiosity sated, Eastwind stepped out of the bunk room and made her way down the corridor.

As Eastwind’s hoofsteps faded away, Firefly gingerly cleaned face of the photo frame with her fetlock, wiping the remnants of her tears away.

It never took long for things to return to normal, as normal as things could be in a warzone. Barely twenty-four hours had passed since the Battle of Onyx and Firefly found herself victim of an old foe: routine. Schedules were the bread and butter of the Alliance. Every pony, dragon, areion, and griffon was assigned and allocated like the screws, springs, and cogs in a clockwork cornucopia of the utmost complexity. Among the endless cycles of military monotony was training. But with conditions on the Frontier as they were, there was no question as to why the admiral had decided to increase the frequency of drills and combat exercises.

Firefly lifted her head and looked out from her vantage point. Below her was a seemingly endless expanse of white. Like the geography near FOB Onyx, the ground was broken and rough, covered with powdery snow and icy pillars extruded through shattered stone, but it was nearly impossible to tell at this altitude. Firefly was far more interested in the cloudy “terrain” that marked the halfway point in altitude between her high perch above and the Wastes below.

The cloud formations were obviously artificial, carefully laid out in staggered lines and sheets that would be see-through from the side but nearly opaque from head-on. Firefly’s hooves idly dug into the cloud that she stood on. She’d long ago eschewed weather work, but it was something that no Pegasus was able to escape entirely. Basic combat training for fliers included courses on combat weather control skills.

Among the most important of those skills was the construction of storm barriers. While earth ponies and unicorns dug their trenches and filled their sandbags with hooves and shovels, pegasi used the sky itself to protect them. Storm barriers were the aerial equivalent of combat engineering obstacles, blocking radar and line of sight to ships hiding among them and presenting a hazard to combat fliers attempting to breach them.

“So tell me why I’m flying laps again? We already flew our way over here!” Thunderlane’s voice crackled through the airwaves.

“So Eastwind and Sunburst can set up the rest of the storm barriers! Keep it moving, rookie!”

“Aye, ma’am,” Thunderlane puffed.

A smirk crossed Firefly’s face. The first part of the exercise had been grilling Thunderlane on his weather skills, which thankfully were competent. She wasn’t being paid to watch a nugget butterhooves his way through the basics. A double-click on the radio indicated that Eastwind and Sunburst had finished their task.

Firefly leaped from her cloud, spinning into an aileron roll before snapping her wings open. Flipping on her right wing, Firefly banked and headed for the outer ring of the arena, demarcated by a series of large pillar clouds. Thunderlane could only be seen as a grey speck at the far side of the cloud arena, still circling under her instructions.

Drawing a bead on her target, Firefly banked again, rapidly flapping to accelerate as she closed on Thunderlane. Her hooves tapped both her harness switches. The high-pitched whine of Aether power cells charging was music to her ears. Since they were in adversarial training, Firefly had opted to kit herself out with an anti-personnel loadout: her trusty repeater backed up with a scattergun, a powerful shotgun-like repeater variant that traded range for firepower. The crosshairs of her reflector sight flared to life in her goggles.

“Uh. Commander? What are you—“

Firefly interrupted Thunderlane with a spray of repeater fire. His mouth fell agape and his body jerked away involuntarily. His hooves flailed as if scrambling for solid ground in the midst of the empty sky. As Firefly walked her rounds toward him, Thunderlane was finally able to muster the presence of mind to dive under the glowing blue tracers and avoid a world of pain.

Of course, Thunderlane was never in any true danger. The tracer colors were more than just a cosmetic change. They indicated that the Aether bolts being fired were nonlethal, doing little more than administering a mild electric shock to provide feedback to the target. It was, however, still quite unpleasant to be hit. Most fliers, Firefly included, likened it to being blindsided by an unruly stormcloud.

“What the hay was that?” he shouted.

“That was me missing on purpose!” Firefly sneered gleefully. “Training starts now, kid!”

“That’s not fair! I’ve been flying loops while you’ve been standing there all morning doing nothing!”

“There’s no such thing as fair, Thunderlane!” Firefly said as she pulled up alongside him. “We may have run the train on that trash at Onyx, but I can guarantee we won’t get that lucky again! In the next fight, you might be cold, tired, hungry, and wounded when the enemy decides to show up!”

Thunderlane stared at her dumbfounded. The look in his eyes pleaded for the plan to be little more than a cruel prank. But Firefly’s gaze was unrelenting. With slumped shoulders and a deep breath, Thunderlane accepted his fate. Firefly smiled and pulled away, barking instructions over the radio as she did.

“Sunburst, Eastwind. Keep the storm barriers moving; I’ll get to you after I’m through with the rookie. As for you,” she directed at Thunderlane, “You are now a target!”

“Guess I should be glad we’re using training rounds...” Thunderlane mumbled.

“Doesn’t matter. Out here in the arena you treat them like the real deal.” Firefly grinned ferally as she reached her side of the cloud arena. “Now show me what you’ve got! Don’t you dare hold back, Thunderlane, because I sure as hell won’t!”

The arena was set, the battle lines drawn. Now it was time to put her newest charge to the test. Firefly banked into a chandelle turn, trading speed for altitude as she climbed to a vantage point above the spotty cloud layer. Off in the distance, she could make out Thunderlane doing the same. The two closed the distance, preparing for a head-on pass. The glowing crosshairs of Firefly’s reflector gunsight floated in her field of view, holding steady as Thunderlane’s form drew hear. A tap of her harness switch superimposed a dashed circle over the crosshairs indicating the aimpoint of her scattergun.

Thunderlane was the first to fire. Burning blue tracers flashed towards Firefly, but she held her course. He was shooting from too far away. The rounds were off target, missing her by mere meters as they closed. Firefly gave a quick power flap and nosed down, picking up speed before popping back up with a quick burst of scattergun fire. Thunderlane dove to try and follow, but was caught off guard by Firefly’s feint. The fan of electric blue lances struck him in the face and chest, eliciting a cry of pain and shock. Firefly leveled off and took a peek at her handiwork. Thunderlane clawed at his face and spat muffled curses through the crackling arcs of training round splash. Firefly looped back around and pulled up alongside Thunderlane again.

“If that were for real, you’d be dead!” She said.

“Tell meeee somethiiiiing I on’t naw!” Thunderlane slurred through partially paralyzed lips.

Firefly continued her lesson as she circled him. “Now tell me what you did wrong there!”

It took a moment before Thunderlane could straighten his tongue enough to muster a response. “I didn’t shoot fast enough.”

“Wrong! You shot too soon. And that was just your first mistake.”

“Of course,” he sighed.

“Second mistake: you tried to follow me into a maneuver where I had the advantage. Don’t try to out-turn someone more maneuverable than you!”

“If I don’t follow them in, how do you expect me to shoot them down?”

“Don’t follow — lead,” Firefly chided him. “Combat is about forcing your opponent to break before you do. You can't do that from the back seat of the carriage!”

“Fleetfoot said that, too.”

“You obviously didn’t listen to her. Don’t react to what I’m doing; anticipate what I’m GOING to do! Use that head of yours! Now again!”

Firefly broke away and made for the far side of the arena. Thunderlane groaned and lined up for another pass on his side. With the arena reset, the joust began again.

Firefly saw a glint in the distance off Thunderlane’s goggles, which soon disappeared as he dove into the patchy clouds below. Good. He was willing to try something different. Firefly climbed and kept her eyes peeled for movement below. When she found none, she descended, circling the arena floor while searching for her opponent. Suddenly, below her, she saw a shadow moving. She acted immediately.

With a quick flick of her pinions, she slipped right, narrowly avoiding a scattergun burst and a spray of repeater fire. Thunderlane himself exploded from the clouds below an instant later, charging forward with sheathed combat knife at the ready. Firefly flared hard and threw her hooves to her right, sending her into a vertical flat spin right over Thunderlane’s head. Thunderlane barely had time to gawk at the maneuver before Firefly power flapped forward, launching herself onto Thunderlane from above. As Firefly slammed into him, she hooked one hoof around his neck as the other pressed a sheathed knife against his throat.

“Congratulations, kid. You’re dead!”

As they separated, Thunderlane blurted incredulously. “What the hell was that?”

“Academy would call it a chakra loop into a j-turn,” Firefly smirked as she bragged. “But I always called it the double-inside-out loop!”

Thunderlane raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because when you try to pull it off for the first time, it turns your insides out… twice.”

Thunderlane groaned and facehoofed both at the terrible pun and the reality of being bested yet again.

“Now what did you do wrong there?” Firefly prodded.

“Didn’t count on your supernatural reaction speed?”

“Nope,” Firefly said. “You can beat reflexes with positioning and planning, neither of which you did. You rushed your attack. You moved while I was actively searching for you, which gave your position away.”

“Gimme a break, Firefly!”

“Pirates aren’t going to give you a break! Neither will I! Not until you get it right! Now again!”

Thunderlane grunted, finally a hint of rage flashing in his eyes as he peeled off. Firefly grinned. Now came the true test. If Thunderlane could hold himself together after Firefly handed him defeat after defeat, he'd be golden. If not... then it would take some more work.

Again, the fliers separated, moving to opposite sides of the cloud arena. Again they dashed at each other, blasting past the cloud obstacles, preparing to clash again. As Thunderlane edged into gun range, however, he suddenly pulled up, shooting straight through a drifting barrier cloud above and continuing to climb far into the sky. Firefly flipped down her tinted lenses, searching for her opponent in the glare of the midday sun. While she was tempted to follow, she heeded her own prior advice. Firefly knew from sizing him up that Thunderlane could likely outclimb her, making vertical pursuit a fruitless endeavor.

She grunted in vexation as she realized Thunderlane was using the oldest trick in the book: attacking out of the Sun. Vision would be useless, so Firefly turned to her other senses. Her ears told her that he was diving, the jangling of gear and the rush of wind through feathers indicating that he was close. Firefly inverted, pointing her guns skyward and resting her hooves on the triggers. Her target neared.

Firefly squeezed the trigger, blasting off two scattergun shots and a burst of repeater fire at Thunderlane’s approaching form... only it wasn’t Thunderlane. Firefly squinted into the light, realizing too late that Thunderlane was already streaking away well out of gun range. In his place was a jet-black, arrowhead-shaped cloud crackling with electricity screaming toward her. Firefly juked hard left, avoiding direct impact, but not the miniature tempest that erupted from the cloud in a vicious airburst blast.

The arrowhead cloud exploded in a brilliant flash of lightning and a deafening peal of thunder, sending Firefly careening away, head spinning and vision blurry from the fierce concussion and blinding flash. Arcs of electricity leaped between her pinions and the sharp stench of ozone stung her nostrils. As she regained her bearings, Firefly saw the dim silhouette of Thunderlane lining up for another attack. She slewed her guns around and fired.

Thunderlane obviously took her prior lesson to heart. Instead of dodging horizontally or engaging in a head-on gunfight, he nosed up into a sharp climb, disappearing behind another storm barrier as Firefly’s aether bolts dissipated harmlessly into thin air. Firefly banked right and power flapped to accelerate. With his newfound missiles and his burly frame, Thunderlane had range and he had power. Firefly would have to force him into a close-range turning battle if she wanted to win.

Circling around the cloud, Firefly scanned the skies above. The sudden rush of wind drew her attention to a grey streak falling from the sky like a meteor. Thunderlane struck the storm barrier ahead like a lightning bolt, throwing up a peal of thunder that shook the entire sky. Firefly slipped right, keeping her guns pointed at the cloud, waiting for Thunderlane to emerge. She caught movement at the edge of the storm barrier and immediately fired.

Her shots only found unoccupied cloud. A fan of arrowhead clouds exploded out of the remnant of the storm barrier in response. Firefly snarled a curse as she flared hard, barely avoiding a collision with the lead cloud. Thunder and lightning burst all around her as their electric payloads detonated. Firefly snapped and weaved, slipping between arcs of forked lightning and weathering vicious blasts of thunder. Finally, she exited the roaring tempest.

Thunderlane was waiting for her. In the time it took for Firefly to level out, Thunderlane had slung yet another cloud at her. Firefly was stuck. She had bled off all her speed maneuvering through the first barrage, leaving none to dodge the next one. Firefly inverted and attempted a negative-G dive, but it was too late.

The arrowhead cloud exploded, buffeting her with thunderous concussion and immobilizing her with claws of lightning. As she tried to right herself, Firefly felt the jolt of training rounds splashing on her chest and neck, the unnerving sensation of electric shock making her hair stand on end and her skin prickle. It was like she’d suddenly been dunked in molasses. Firefly strained against her own body, but the sparkling blue arcs dancing over her coat and feathers numbed her limbs and slowed her reactions. Finally, two swift strikes to the gut from her opponent doubled her over in pain and sent her spiraling from the sky.

Firefly smashed through the first storm barrier with a boom of thunder. Its destruction did little to arrest her fall. She could feel the air shift beneath her as another cloud approached. Still numb, she could do nothing except brace herself for impact. Another thunderclap rang out across the arena as the next cloud loudly protested Firefly’s intrusion. The breath exploded from Firefly’s lungs as she slammed into the cloud’s surface, finally coming to dead stop. Her muscles screamed in agony. Her vision swam.

Gritting her teeth and quenching the pain with rage, she forced her limbs to move. Her guns were behind her, pointed in the wrong direction. With no options left, Firefly unlocked her knife and prepared to counterattack, only to find her knife arm pinned to the cloud behind her. As she struggled, she felt the rough, cold metal of a knife scabbard pressing against her throat.

The form of Thunderlane slowly resolved itself before her. He had mounted Firefly, pinning her body between his hind legs and immobilizing her knife foreleg with his own. Fire burned in his eyes, just visible through the glint of his combat goggles. He panted fiercely as he caught his breath, clearly winded from the contest. Firefly pushed her sun visor up with her one free hoof. Firefly expected him to let her go since the fight was clearly over, but when he didn’t for nearly a full minute, she prodded him.

“Thunderlane?” she finally said. “You can let go now.”

It took a moment for Thunderlane to register what she’d just said and a moment longer to realize their relative positions. When he did, he quickly lifted off with a flap of his wings. Finally free, Firefly rolled onto her hooves and stretched out, testing her joints from head to hoof after combat.

“Sorry,” Thunderlane said, ears drooping sheepishly. “I got caught up in the moment!”

Firefly laughed heartily. “I’ll say! You were a completely different animal during the third pass!”

“What else was I supposed to do? You were kicking my ass!”

“That was the point. If I didn’t you’d never learn,” Firefly said with a smirk. “By the way, where did you learn that cloud trick?”

“We called it a storm cutter back at home.” Thunderlane said as he shrugged. “It was an old trick we used to break up storm clouds that were too dangerous to handle by hoof.”

The flapping of wings above made both Firefly and Thunderlane turn their heads. Eastwind and Sunburst alighted on the cloud next to them, great big grins pasted across their faces.

“Not gonna lie, kid, that was pretty awesome,” Sunburst said.

“I see your weather skills haven’t fallen by the wayside,” said Eastwind.

Thunderlane’s cheeks reddened further. Firefly smirked, the hint of a smile giving way to laughter as Thunderlane finally regained his composure, puffing out his chest and donning his best winning smile.

“Don’t let it get to your head, rookie,” Firefly said, tapping a hoof on Thunderlane’s head. “We should get back to work. Time’s a wasting.”

Thunderlane snorted at Firefly’s joking admonition. “What’s next?”

“Reset and get ready for tandem drills,” Firefly said. “Sunburst, you’re with me. Thunderlane, you’re with Eastwind. Let’s get to it!”

“All right, everypony, take five. Wrap up in the cabin and hydrate.”

Firefly swiped beads of sweat from her brow with a fetlock as she trotted through the ARC ship hatch. Physical exertion and the glow of warm guns was a potent antidote to the arctic chill. The warm wash of air from the ARC ship’s interior was almost too warm in comparison, but Firefly quickly acclimated and relaxed as she felt the hoarfrost that clung to her coat and uniform melt and fall away. No words were spoken, but sighs of relief were heard all around. The clicks and clacks of latches and buttons being undone and weapons being stowed on their racks surrounded Firefly as she shed her gear momentarily.

“Heads up, jefa!” Firefly reached a hoof out without looking and caught the flying towel blanket thrown by Thunderlane.

Firefly burrowed deep into the folds of her blanket. One hoof remained clasped over the front to keep the warm air in while her other three were used to lope over to the galley bench, where she promptly sat. The others, similarly wrapped, gathered around the galley table. Canteens came out, tugged from combat harnesses under the blankets, quenching thirsty gullets with cold water. Sunburst paused to suck down air after his long swig of canteen.

“Hey Eastwind," he finally said, taking his fill of breath. "I think they put something in the Crystal Empire water!"

"How's that?" his wingmare asked.

"I feel young again!" He laughed as he slammed his canteen down on the table.

Eastwind stared blankly at him for a moment before her signature grin of mischief spread across her face. "Don’t worry, Sunshine, that’s just the cold making your balls pull back in. You'll be back to your wrinkly old ass in a few minutes!"

“Cold ain’t nothing, Windy,” Sunburst glowered. “They’re just tired of you busting them all the time!”

“Eastwind clip your wings again, old-timer?” Thunderlane chuckled.

“She’s just sore she can’t piss off the deck without embarrassing herself!”

“I bet I can piss straighter drunk than you can sober!” Eastwind shot back.

“You’re challenging me to a pissing contest?” Sunburst countered.

“I don't think we need one. I wouldn’t bite, Sunburst,” Thunderlane nickered. He waited a beat before delivering the punchline. “We already know Windy’s is bigger!”

“Thank you, Thunderlane, at least somepony here has a lick of —” Sunburst took a moment to catch on, but quickly snarled back. “HEY! Who’s side are you on, kid?!”

Eastwind's barely contained laughter erupted into full-on cackling. She rolled back in her seat, kicking her hind hooves out in glee. Firefly shook her head as Sunburst threw mock punches at Thunderlane, who raised his hooves to guard his face from his wingmate’s playful blows.

“Dear Celestia you guys are catty,” Firefly snorted. Despite her consternation, a slight smile played at her lips. "They put me in charge of a bunch of foals!"

"Hey, just havin' a little fun, jefa!" Thunderlane chuckled, batting the last of Sunburst's punches away. "Great way to unwind after hammering each other with training rounds and stormclouds, amiright?"

“More or less,” Firefly said. “We should probably make a distinction between who was doing what, seeing as only one of us was slinging stormclouds for the most part...”

“Eh, you didn’t do so bad yourself once you started practicing!”

“Don’t get too cocky, kid.” Firefly gave Thunderlane a sidelong glance, to which he responded with two hooves held up in a halting gesture.

“Looks like we all learned a bit of something out there today,” Eastwind said. “I'll be honest with you, Thundy, I never did much weather work at home. Cirrians always saw the art of cloudshaping to be separate from the art of war.”

"Didn't realize you did weather work before you shipped out," Sunburst said. "I figured you'd gone in right after school."

"Nah, I did plenty of weather work around Ponyville before I went to OCS," Thunderlane shrugged. "Mom always 'volunteered' me on days I wasn't at hoofball practice. Can you believe I wanted to go pro before I joined the Army?"

"No kidding! Who was your team? Trottingham United?"

"Pfffft! Hay no! Hoofington Club all the way! I actually got to shoot against their keeper Quickstep at hoofball camp when I was a colt!"

"She’s a cutie,” Sunburst chuckled.

“She’ll also lay you out faster than you can say ‘dat ass.’”

“Thunderlane, one of these days we’re going to have a guy’s night and I’ll show you how to really hook mares!” Sunburst glanced at Eastwind. “It’ll be a lot easier when I’m not constantly being cock blocked by SOMEPONY!”

“Not my fault the ladies prefer supple and lithe to old and wrinkly, Sunshine!” Eastwind teased with a wry smirk and a flick of her tail.

“I may be old and wrinkly up here, but I’m not down there!”

“Good Luna, back to this again?” Firefly rubbed a hoof against her forehead in exasperation.

“What about you, Firefly?” Thunderlane said, bringing the conversation back on topic. “You do much weather work? You seemed to catch on quick with the storm cutters!"

"It's something I'll keep filed away in case I need it." Firefly waved a hoof dismissively. "But combat weather control isn’t my preferred style. I like something more solid in my hooves. Give me a gun or blade any day of the week."

"I'd rather not, especially if I'm on the receiving end. I mean during that last few rounds, I lost track of how many takedowns you scored."

"I was always good with knives,” Firefly grinned. “I grew up in Fillydelphia, but my uncle used to take me camping all the time. He taught me how to use a knife both as a tool and a weapon. He always said he was just a garrison desk jockey, but from how he carried himself and how much he knew, I'd swear he was SOF."

"Sounds like a crusty old stallion I ran into in a bar in Trottingham one time..."

"The good ones always keep quiet. The bad ones are the ones that run their mouths."

"The good ones went home and lived off their fat pensions when they retired." Sunburst yawned before continuing. "If they were in the horseapples, they probably didn't miss active duty one bit."

"You probably won't even look back when you retire, will you Sunburst?" Thunderlane asked, giving his wingmate a nudge with his elbow.

“Are you kidding me? There's a lot of things I'll miss when they finally put me out to pasture!" Sunburst snorted. He ticked his hoof as if checking off items on a list. "Auntie Celestia covering my medical bills, royal coffers keeping alimony paid for greedy ex-wives, housing allowances, booze money, yadda yadda..."

"So we're living the good life?"

"Damn right we are. Only things that are still a pain in the flank are awards ceremonies and stop-loss."

“You got stop-loss’d?”

“War started two months before I was supposed to get out. Now look where I am!”

“Stuck with us?” Eastwind said.

“No, Windy, just stuck with you,” Sunburst replied with narrowed eyes. He quickly opened them and grinned as he addressed the others seated at the table. “The rest of you aren’t too bad!”

“Walkin’ on thin clouds there, Sunshine,” Firefly said with a sidelong glance. “That said, sometimes I think I’d rather be stop-loss’d than thrown into another damn formal. They lay the pageantry on so thick it makes me gag.”

“I thought they were supposed to be fun?”

“Tsch,” Firefly snorted in contempt. “Anything involving top brass is unfun by definition. They should just mail us the medals and give us each a sack of bits to spend on booze, smokes, and mares — or stallions I guess, depending on your persuasion.”

“Now that’s my idea of a good time!” Sunburst laughed.

“Who wouldn’t want to get their medals, though?” Thunderlane cocked his head to the side quizzically. “I thought it was a great honor to be pinned by the Princesses.”

Firefly’s face darkened for a split second, not enough to betray her thoughts, but long enough to cast dis-ease on all seated at the table. Medals were for heroes. Medals were for noble achievements. Medals weren't awarded for what she did.

“Uh, Firefly?”

“Not everypony can be a rock star, kid,” Firefly said flatly. “Straight military is different from Wonderbolt Academy. REA Air Corps may poach ‘bolt recruits for their skills, but they don’t keep many because of their attitudes. Turnover rates used to be insane.”

“Still are,” Thunderlane said quietly.

“I see things haven’t changed much since I was last in Heartland Equestria.”

A banging on the bulkhead brought Firefly’s attention to the goggled earth pony stepping out of the radio bay. “Commander, sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got radar contacts coming in.”

Firefly stood, dropping her blanket and trotting to the hatch. The radar console beeped a steady warning of approaching fliers. The squad piled around the display.

"What've we got, chief?" Firefly said.

"Four bogies, about twelve klicks out,” the ARC operator said, pointing to the cathode-ray display. “Size looks like combat fliers, but I don't see an accompanying ARC ship."

"IFF tone?"

"None, ma'am."

"Suit up,” Firefly said over her shoulder to her squad. “We're going to have to get ident the hard way."

"Uh, we're running training hardware, jefa."

"If they're just scouting, they won't be looking for a fight. We just point guns at them and they'll cut and run."

“And if they stay to fight?” Sunburst said with narrowed eyes.

Firefly’s only reply was to deploy her knife, holding it ominously in front of her face before stowing it again. “Let’s go Timberwolves.”

The squad filed through the galley to the ready bay, re-attaching weapons and sliding goggles, flight caps, and radio equipment back into place. Firefly hoofed open the hatch and leaped onto the ARC ship deck. Following immediately behind the fliers, a goggled and helmeted earth pony scrambled out of the cabin hatch and leaped into the gun cupola. With a loud metallic CLICK-CLACK, the heavy repeater was charged. The gunner slewed his weapon to the starboard side and leveled it at the heading of the possible targets.

“Contacts approaching; constant bearing, decreasing range.”

“CBDR,” Eastwind remarked with furrowed brow. “They have to know we’re here.”

“Timberwolves, you are cleared to launch. Wedge formation, right heavy, on me! Keep high and we’ll give them the drop when we get close. Understood?”

“Aye, ma’am,” Thunderlane affirmed.

The Timberwolves leaped off the deck, dipping down to gain speed before nosing up to ascend. The storm barriers fell away beneath them. Firefly squinted into the distance. Several thousand meters out, cruising closer to the ground, were four unidentifiable forms approaching their position.

“Unidentified fliers, you are entering Alliance airspace.” Storm Warden broadcasted as the Timberwolves closed in. “Identify yourselves and state your intentions.”

A long pause followed the hail. No response. Are they really going to try to rush us? Firefly thought. Her hoof twitched on the trigger of her knife.

“Unidentified fliers, you are entering Alliance airspace.” The ARC operator repeated. “Identify yourselves and state your intentions or we will open fire!”

“This is ACG Alpha Team ‘Typhon’ returning from mission near the Outer Rim. We were running dark to avoid detection by enemy sensors. Activating IFF transponder now.”

The pulses of an identity code, thrumming like a beating heart, chirped faintly in Firefly’s headset. Muted murmurs could be heard coming from the ARC ship’s crew. Finally, a verdict came.

“Codes check out. It’s them.”

“Stand down, Timberwolves. We’ve got friendlies coming in. Let’s roll out the welcome wagon.” Firefly waved a hoof, placing her squad at ease. She keyed her headset, broadcasting on open channel. “Is that you, Roshina?”

“Ah, Firefly,” replied the familiar voice. “Aren’t you glad you don’t have to fly out to kill us? We could have been griffon pirate scum instead of friendly magic dragons!”

The Timberwolves descended from their vantage point, closing the gap with the dragon squad approaching from below. Finally, they were close enough to speak face to face. Each squad slowed to a hover and formed a rank with their counterparts directly opposite.

“Not like we’d have been able to do anything,” Firefly chuckled, speaking off mic. “Training gear doesn’t exactly cook turkey like real steel.”

“It would be quite concerning if it did!” Roshina laughed. “Good to be in friendly company again!

“And even better luck,” the dragoness flourished, “You finally get to meet the rest of my squad, Firefly. This is Grana and Zaan. And of course, you already know Khog...”

Firefly’s eyes darted from dragon to dragon as Roshina introduced them.

Grana, the purple one. She was not much bigger than Roshina herself, but her armor configuration – ample protection of her hands and torso made obvious her brawler sensitivities. Firefly could feel Grana’s eyes upon her. They jumped from pony to pony, sizing them up and passing judgment as they went.

Zaan, the green one. He was big, even more so than Khog. Zaan wore no armor save for his combat harness. Muscles rippled beneath his scales and a cold rage smoldered behind his eyes. Unlike Grana’s pedantic scanning, Zaan’s slewing vision was lazy, barely acknowledging their presence, except perhaps that of Firefly, the leader.

Khog, the red one. Firefly already knew Khog, but after the encounters in the Horseshoe and the Majestic’s galley, he seemed to treat her differently. The haughtiness and pride still remained in his eyes, but they took a backseat to the guarded deference that Roshina’s tales had wrought after their second meeting.

“So how long until you’re off, Firefly?” Roshina continued. “It would be most excellent to have some company for mess tonight!”

“Two hours maybe,” Firefly replied. “We were getting ready to wrap up the last set of tandem drills.”

Roshina looked thoughtful for a moment. “Mind if we join you? We had no action while we were out and have been itching to really stretch our wings. Dragons were meant to fight, not hang up listening post balloons!”

“What are you getting at?”

“What do you say to a scrimmage?” There was a twinkle in the dragoness’ eye. “Just a bit of friendly competition since we’re not due back to the ship for another few hours?”

“What do you say, fillies and colts?” Firefly asked, turning to her squad.

“I’m game,” Thunderlane said.

“Sure, why not,” said Eastwind.

“You’d kick my wrinkly ass if I said no.” Sunburst replied.

“You’re on,” Firefly said to Roshina. “What’s your poison? Guns or melee?”

“Rules of the game: No ARC ship callouts, but you’re free to communicate with your squad.” Roshina ticked off each stipulation with a clawed finger. “Action is full-contact, but no guns and no dragonfire. Anything else nonlethal goes! You get hit hard or someone puts you in a lock hold, you tap out. Agreed?”

“Agreed. Timberwolf and Typhon, go to squad subchannels. Storm Warden, did you get that?”

“Got it loud and clear, ma’am,” the ARC operator replied.

“Good. Get ready to count us off. Call kills when you see them. See you in the arena, Typhon One. Good luck!”

“Likewise.”

Firefly clicked the dials on her radio, shifting its output to a subchannel that would give Timberwolf flight some privacy. “Go to secure channel, Timberwolves.”

“They volunteered to go melee only?” Thunderlane asked. “Doesn’t this make it a cakewalk for us?”

“She didn’t say melee-only,” Firefly said. “She said no dragonfire and no guns. Feel free to use all the storm cutters you want, Thunderlane, but watch out for magic missiles.”

“Going melee against a dragon is nothing to piss on either,” said Sunburst. “There’s a reason no one bucks with ACG...”

“Stay focused,” Firefly chided Sunburst. “Hit hard and fast and always keep your wingmate in sight. Got it?”

“Aye, ma’am,” came the chorus of replies.

“Typhon and Timberwolf. This is Storm Warden. Report to ready positions. You are cleared to engage on my mark.”

The Timberwolves flew an ascending spiral until they’d reached middling altitude on their end of the arena. Far off in the distance, the four dragons of Typhon flight could be seen darting among the clouds. Firefly squinted to try and resolve them further, but the constantly shifting sky and slippery dragon targets clouded her scrutiny. She issued the halt gesture, bringing her squad to a hover at altitude.

“Timberwolves ready,” Firefly reported.

“Typhon unit stands ready,” came the pass-through from Roshina.

“Teams are ready. Starting the countdown,” the ARC operator announced. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

Firefly took a deep breath and closed her eyes. All of the sounds around her slowly faded away; the high-altitude wind, the hiss of radio static, the murmuring chatter of ARC operators in the background. She was ready.

“Mark.”

Firefly shot forward with wingmates in tow. As they closed on the center of the cloud arena, she began barking orders. “Thunderlane, go with Eastwind and take high. Sunburst, you’re with me. We’ll take low. We’ll draw them in then pincer them from above!”

The formation split in half, with each flier doing as they were instructed. Firefly breathed deeply as she dove. Cold air coursed through her lungs, sending an electric jolt through her senses. The sky was her domain. In this domain, she was princess; she was judge, jury, and sole executor of law. This was her sky and she would defend it as such. The glint of metallic hardware caught Firefly’s eye at the same time it did Sunburst’s.

“Tally three dragons,” Sunburst reported, “but where’s the last one?”

“Roshina’s not in that formation...” Thunderlane confirmed.

“Of course not,” Firefly said. “She’s the caster, so she’ll support from range. Keep your head on a swivel and your eyes peeled!”

A familiar unearthly howl broke from the cloud sea below. Firefly craned her neck, searching for the telltale trail of glowing aether that would betray a magic missile. Firefly growled at the sight of a glowing trail behind her.

“We’re spiked! Break!”

A thin mantle of condensation coalesced around Firefly’s shoulders and wisps of cloud trailed from her wingtips as she flared hard, violently braking and pulling right. The bone-chilling wail intensified as the missile closed, filling her head and shaking her bones until she thought her eardrums would burst. Firefly only bit her tongue and maintained the turn.

In an instant, the wail stopped. A quick glance to her left showed what was left of the missile dissolving into a shower of sparks. A clean miss! Firefly leveled out and swung back left toward Sunburst. Where was Sunburst? The sharp crack of a missile exploding nearby assaulted her ears. Firefly instinctively shaded her eyes with a hoof at the sudden flash of light.

“I’m hit!”

“Typhon One, first blood,” the ARC operator confirmed. “Wolf Three, you’ve just been killed.”

“Tell me something I don’t know!” Sunburst snarled. “Firefly, I’m headed back to the ARC ship. Give ‘em hell!”

Firefly growled in frustration. That answered her question. She swiveled her head around, scanning the cloud sea for her quarry. Dragons normally weren’t the type to hide, but Roshina had shattered all of Firefly’s prior assumptions. Firefly banked left and nosed up to gain altitude.

“I see movement, jefa!” Thunderlane reported. “About two hundred meters to your eleven o’clock, low!”

Firefly scanned the clouds. Indeed, there was a shadow moving in the indicated direction. But as Firefly was about to dive in pursuit, the shadow darted away.

“We can’t get her right now, Thunderlane. Focus on the others.”

“What’s the plan, Firefly?” Eastwind said.

“I’m on point. Watch for an opening and hit ‘em when they come after me!”

Firefly drew a bead on the still-approaching wedge-shaped formation of three dragons and powered toward them. Acknowledging her presence, the formation fanned out. It was Grana who held her course, continuing in a head-on attack against Firefly. Just as they seemed fit to collide, Firefly deftly slipped right while turning on wingtip, staying just out of reach of the dragon’s claws.

“Eastwind, hasty ambush on me! Get ready!”

“Roger that,” came the reply. “Cloud to your one o’clock, high!”

Grana circled around for another pass, her bared teeth and open claws betraying her expectation of an easy kill. Firefly subtly smirked. She climbed and pulled hard right, sending her streaking over the cloud. Grana tracked Firefly’s movement, lining up for a knockout blow.

“Now!”

At Firefly’s command, Eastwind sprang from the cloud, clotheslining the dragoness with her foreleg. A strangled curse gurgled from Grana’s throat as she was violently ripped from her flight path. A quick power flap from Eastwind worked the clothesline into a suplex, slamming Grana into the cloud below with a raucous peal of thunder. Eastwind flipped her sheathed blade out, indulging in a quick flourish before pressing it to Grana’s throat.

“Timberwolf Two, splash one bandit,” she reported smugly.

“Confirmed,” came the ARC operator’s voice. “Grana, Typhon Three, you’ve just been killed.”

Grana rasped a curse in draconic before slinking off to the ship. Firefly grinned like a madmare as she watched her wingmate’s handiwork. The odds were even once again.

“Good kill!”

“Felt good, too!” Eastwind panted. “What’s next?”

“Two bandits coming up from behind!”

“Eastwind, break left!”

Firefly and Eastwind split. Khog and Zaan shot between them from below, both climbing to gain the altitude advantage. Firefly banked hard and climbed after them to present herself as a target. Zaan took the bait and dove after her.

The strike of hooves on hard scale rang across the sky as Eastwind made her first pass. Zaan, however, was unfazed. Firefly grunted and whirled around, braking with her wings and reversing direction to launch her attack. Her hooves slammed into Zaan’s face and chest, each impact sounding a dull thud. Firefly gritted her teeth. It was like punching sandbags! As if to drive home the point, Zaan caught her hoof in one hand and countered with the other.

CRUNCH. Firefly’s flak armor disintegrated at the impact of Zaan’s bone-shattering strike. Her entire body felt the hit. Her head snapped forward. Her lungs vomited their load of breath. She wheezed desperately as Zaan’s fantastic strength sent her careening away.

“Don’t stick around!” Firefly rasped into the radio. “He may be slow, but he hits like a freight train!”

“I got this, Fi!” Eastwind said as she circled for another pass.

Firefly’s wingmare screeched a wild battle cry as she assaulted Zaan again. This time, however, Zaan was ready. He raised his fists to block, enduring the onslaught of Eastwind’s lightning fast hooves. When she backed off to look for another opening, he retaliated with a single aimed strike that flipped Eastwind head over hooves. A single massive claw clasped itself around her neck.

“Windy!” Firefly power-flapped forward Zaan, slamming into him at breakneck speed.

It was like flying into a brick wall. Firefly glanced off, launching her far off-course. Zaan did not so much as flinch. Firefly could only watch helplessly as Eastwind struggled against her assailant. Finally, she fell short of breath and tapped out. The brute cracked a predatory smile and released her.

“Typhon Four, Zaan, splash one,” the ARC operator reported. “Wolf Two, you’ve just been killed.”

“Ugh, my head,” Eastwind groaned as she departed the battlefield.

Firefly looped back around, looking for any way to attack the juggernaut without suffering Eastwind’s fate. She expected him to give chase, but Zaan made no efforts to pursue. He was waiting. His red eyes glowed with anticipation. His arms were braced in front of him defensively. Firefly would never be able to break through his guard alone.

Suddenly, she had an idea. “Thunderlane, disengage Khog and grab a storm cutter!”

“Do what now?” In the distance, Firefly could make out Thunderlane trading blows with Khog.

“Just do it!”

“Coming back around!” Thunderlane kicked off his adversary, disappearing through a storm barrier and making his way toward Firefly. “What’s the plan, boss?

“I’ll get his attention, Thunderlane. You go in for the kill!” Firefly snatched a bit of cloud off a nearby storm barrier as she continued to circle Zaan. Finally, she tucked her wings and dove upon him. “Over here, asshole!”

Firefly grinned as she approached. She spun the cloud in her hooves, making it crackle with electricity. She whirled it around herself, making motions to strike. The dragon put his fists up to block, clearly intending to counter Firefly’s blow. But she stopped just short. A quick slap to the cloud with the tip of her hoof detonated it in a flash of lightning and a peal of thunder. Zaan dropped his guard as he coughed and sputtered, shaking his head violently in an attempt to get the horrid ozone taste out of his mouth.

“Thunderlane, do it!”

On cue, Thunderlane’s storm cutter shot into the back of Zaan’s head with the precision of a sniper’s bullet. For a few seconds, Zaan went limp, kept aloft only by his outstretched wings. Firefly and Thunderlane quickly descended upon him, catching him and laying him out on the nearest cloud. Thunderlane quickly tapped him on the back of his neck with his knife.

“Bandit down,” she radioed.

“Zaan, Typhon Four, you’ve been killed.”

The green dragon sat straight up at the announcement. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the two pegasi standing on the cloud. His fists clenched and his neck tensed, as if he were ready to deliver further blows. Firefly even reached for her knife in case Zaan went out of control. However, Zaan was fully aware of his defeat. With one last glare, he spread his wings and lifted off.

“Well that was tail-stainingly terrifying...” Thunderlane cracked.

“Next time I’ll bring a ballistic lance,” Firefly said flatly. “Two more to go, rookie!”

As if on cue, Khog tore through the space between them, splintering the cloud they stood on. Firefly recovered from her tumble, quickly drawing a bead and launching herself after Khog. The red dragon’s lean musculature propelled him at high speed, making Firefly work to catch up. With a flick of his wings and tail, Khog spun back around, diving back toward Firefly.

Bared teeth and razor claw descended upon Firefly. She roared in contest, answering Khog’s ferocity with her won; claws clashed against blade, fists against hooves, forelegs against scale. Khog was fast, but more seriously, he was experienced. One strike blurred into another, giving Firefly no chance to retaliate.

“Thunderlane, where the hell are you?”

“I got this, jefa!” Came the enthused reply. “Here it comes!”

The distinctive crackle of lightning sounded behind Khog as Thunderlane delivered his storm cutter payload. Khog, however, had heard it just as well as Firefly. Without missing a beat, the red dragon whirled around, simultaneously hammering Firefly’s guard with his tail and intercepting the cloud with a back-hand strike. The storm cutter spun away and detonated harmlessly.

Firefly growled as she soaked up another hit with her forelegs. “Change of plans, Thunderlane!”

“Your go, boss.”

With a pained grunt and a mumbled curse, Firefly struck a quick one-two punch against Khog’s guard, using his defensive posture as a springboard to launch herself away. A nearby storm barrier served to break line of sight. As she exited the cloud, she peeled off a strip, rolling it in her hooves until it resembled a hoofball made of storm clouds.

“Heads up, Thunderlane! Cloudball special!”

“Just like when I was a colt!”

“Passing to you!” Firefly popped up above the storm barrier, sighting in on Thunderlane and Khog. With a flap and a twirl of her wings, Firefly gave the balled up cloud a mighty buck. The stormcloud shot away on wings of lightning. Thunderlane maneuvered to receive, streaking right past Khog as he did.

“It’s the last five minutes on the pitch in the Equestria Cup finals as bitter rivals Trottingham united and Hoofington Club face off in a true clash of the titans!”

Thunderlane pretended to dribble the cloud in front of him as he did his best impression of a hoofball announcer. “Hoofington makes a final drive for the goal!”

Khog snarled and swung. As if calling out player actions as an announcer, Thunderlane gracefully spun away from Khog’s claws. “The defenders close, but he’s one step ahead! He jukes, he weaves, he slips right through their hooves!”

Every attack was matched with ducking and weaving. “He lines up for a shot! But it’s a feint! He passes!”

Thunderlane lobbed the stormcloud past Khog, immediately drawing the latter’s attention. Firefly received the pass and immediately shot. As she righted herself, she grinned at the results.

“His wingmate shoots!”

Khog lunged at Thunderlane, thinking the Pegasus had missed his shot on accident. Thunderlane slipped backwards to avoid the strike. Realizing that he was overextended, Khog attempted to correct his mistake, whirling back around to face Firefly.

“And with a brilliant kick by our star, it’s in!”

The cloudball caught Khog with his guard down, striking him right on the muzzle. A crash of thunder and flash of lightning drew a roar from the deafened and blinded warrior dragon. Finishing the job, Firefly yanked Khog into a lock hold, pressing the sheathed knife to his neck.

“GOOOOAAAAAAALLLLL!!!!!” Thunderlane celebrated.

“Splash one,” Firefly growled in Khog’s ear.

“Khog, Typhon Two, you’ve just been killed.”

Khog glared at Thunderlane, then shoved Firefly away as she released her grip. “You were lucky, little pony... this time.”

“I was a little more than that—WHOA!” Thunderlane spun away at the last second, narrowly avoiding a ghostly javelin.

“Two o’clock low! It’s Roshina! Move it, rookie!”

More magic missiles rose to greet them. Firefly twisted and weaved, ducked and dodged, dancing her way through the flying breastworks that blocked her way. Through it all, Firefly could not help but grin. This was her element. Combat flying used all her senses and every bit of her body... and she loved it. Finally, they broke through the barrage.

“Break left and circle around, Thunderlane! Keep the pressure on!”

Firefly powered forward and dove to pick up speed, skimming the cloud surface before abruptly popping up and charging at Roshina. Now too close for missiles, Roshina bared her fists in fighting stance. Firefly lunged, her hooves crashing against Roshina’s bracers. With a knee strike to Firefly’s stomach and a whirling tail slap to her face, Roshina sent Firefly spinning away.

As Firefly gathered herself for another pass, Thunderlane took his turn. The ring of clouds surrounding him splintered at his touch. Each cloud blob morphed into the characteristic arrowhead of his storm cutters.

CRACK-BOOM. CRACK-BOOM. CRACK-BOOM.

Thunderlane delivered his vengeance with extreme prejudice. Firefly shielded her eyes with a hoof to block out the piercing flashes of blue lightning. One cutter after another exploded, leaving a blanket of heavy mist rife with the stench of ozone. For a moment, the battlefield was still.

But in a swirling storm of mist, Roshina burst from the remains of the tempest, an aetheric javelin in one hand and a gleaming magic shield in the other. The shield vanished in a shower of sparks and the javelin leaped from her hand with a point of her finger, streaking toward Thunderlane.

With a flip of his wings, Thunderlane flung one last storm cutter, intercepting the missile and clearing his path. He snapped his wings shut and dropped upon his quarry like a bird of prey. Chain lightning snaked across his hooves, arcing all around him as he prepared to strike.

Seeing her opening, Firefly charged in from behind. Her first punch landed at the base of Roshina’s spine. Firefly grinned as a cry of pain escaped her quarry. She leaped forward and upward, hooking a hoof around Roshina and initiating a lock hold. But just as she touched Roshina’s scales, Firefly felt a hard tug on her tail.

Firefly’s breath caught in her throat as she was violently pulled downward. Glancing below, she found her tail caught by Roshina’s own. There was no time to gawk, however, as she was whirled around underneath the dragoness. In a split second, her unspoken plan was undone. There was not enough room for Thunderlane to stop. There was not enough time for Firefly to break free. Firefly could only brace herself for impact.

Firefly could feel the wind explode from Thunderlane’s lungs as she slammed into him. Her skin tingled and her feathers frayed as the attack meant for Roshina racked her with arcing electricity. The two pegasi tumbled away, stunned and spiraling out of control.

Azure eyes snapped open. Firefly forced herself to focus. She had to retake the initiative or she didn’t stand a chance against Roshina. Firefly splayed her wings to brake and regain control. But as she turned back to face Roshina, she found herself staring straight down the point of a magic missile. The dragoness looked Firefly dead in the eye and prepared to fire.

With a flick of her wrist, Firefly’s knife came out, its blade gleaming in the afternoon sun. Her aetherium-cored blade could cut the missile down, but her timing would have to be perfect. One slip and it was game over. Her knife foreleg tensed. With a flash of unearthly light, the missile leaped from Roshina’s talon. Firefly swung.

She found herself lunging into empty air. The missile sailed past her. It took a moment before Firefly registered what was happening. She had been so absorbed in preparing to block the attack that she’d failed to anticipate the feint. Before Firefly could warn Thunderlane, the missile exploded, engulfing him in a bright flash of light and a thunderous boom.

“Dammit!” Firefly cursed her own lapse of awareness. Roshina flashed a knowing glance and peeled off, disappearing through a nearby storm barrier cloud.

“Sorry jefa! Guess I didn’t make the cut!”

“Thunderlane, Wolf Four, you’ve just been killed,” the ARC operator reported. “Firefly, Roshina. You’re the last ones left.”

Firefly burned inside. She’d been played. She’d fallen straight into Roshina’s trap. How could I have been so stupid?

“Looks like it is just us, Firefly!” Roshina’s voice crackled in Firefly’s earpiece.

Open channel? What was she doing? Firefly kept a wary eye on Roshina’s distant form as the gears in her head turned. Roshina is a strategist, not a duelist. Or had Firefly misjudged her yet again?

“I’ve been waiting for a chance to see you in action!” The dragoness continued as she reappeared some distance away from behind a storm barrier. “Now I finally have it!”

“You already saw me in action at Onyx,” Firefly said, keeping her distance. “What makes this so different?”

“We fought against neophytes and scum at Onyx. I would hardly call that a real fight!”

“A fight is a fight, Roshina! Makes no difference who’s slinging lead, aether, or dragonfire!”

“Onyx was an unfortunate altercation. THIS is a fight!”

Shining points of light flared to life in a brilliant halo around Roshina’s streamlined form. Firefly tensed. More missiles. Firefly dove into the nearest storm barrier, gathering up bits of thundercloud and shaping it into a dome-shaped barrier around her.

The unearthly howl of incoming magic missiles rang in her ears as the points of light resolved themselves into glowing aetheric javelins. A flick of Firefly’s hooves set the storm shield spinning. The cloud darkened as it spun faster, its surface crackling with electricity.

Firefly shifted the dome to meet each incoming missile, feeling the sharp jolt of exploding aether as each ghostly javelin splashed against her electric shield. With the last missile blocked, Firefly jammed her hooves forward and flung them apart, dispelling the cloud and giving her room to climb.

“Think about it! Two opponents of great skill, each with their own strengths and weaknesses, each vying for the upper hand! It’s a rush unlike any other!”

She was right, more or less. Firefly relished competition. She’d lived for it in OCS, much to the chagrin of her classmates. But why would she even say that?

“What’s with the flattery? Would you have said that to Colonel Savage with Manticore flight?”

“Never!” Roshina chuckled. “In fact, I consider this opportunity the greatest of honors, Firefly!”

“Honors?”

“To go up against someone with your impressive accomplishments!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t be so bashful about your victories, Demon of Valdus!”

There was the rub. Firefly bared her teeth and dove upon her opponent like a bolt of lightning. Roshina barely managed to parry her strike, visibly recoiling as Firefly’s hooves connected with dragonscale.

"Can’t you take a hint?” Firefly growled. “I buried the demon years ago. Why do you want to bring her back?"

“So that I might test myself against her! I studied the art of war in Pyre. I read the after action reports. I wrote treatises on the tactics and theory of the Continental War!” Even amidst the melee, Roshina still found breath to pontificate. “It is through our heroes that we learn to improve ourselves. The Heroes of Valdus are perhaps the greatest ones of our time!”

“The ‘Heroes of Valdus’ are dead!”

Firefly lashed out with word and blade. A whirling mass of feathers and hooves masked the blackened edge of a sheathed blade. Faster and faster the knife blade spun in its wild dervish dance. Roshina treated the sheathed knife as the real thing, slipping backwards to avoid strikes too powerful to safely block.

“And yet you lived! You stopped the griffon counterattack during the spearhead! Any warrior would be proud of that accomplishment!”

“Accomplishment? We failed!”

“The Alliance won! They pushed the Aquellian National Army out of Valdus! How was that a failure?”

As the onslaught continued, it was clear that Roshina was losing ground. The blade whirled in a quick figure eight before plunging forward. Roshina slipped to the side to avoid it, realizing she’d be unable to block.

It was a feint. Firefly quickly retracted the blade and spun her body around, delivering a wheel kick with her right hind leg that broke through Roshina’s guard. The kick landed with a peal of thunder, sending Roshina careening away.

“Because of what it cost me!” Firefly roared her answer. “Because of the blood that was spilled!”

“For queen and country much blood was spilled during Valdus.” Roshina coughed and sputtered as she recovered from having the wind had been knocked out of her. “It was a necessary evil! What makes this different?”

The angry sky fell silent as Firefly pressed her eyes closed. Only her solitary wingbeats sounded in the void of her mind. The oceans of blood she spilled before meant nothing more than survival in the crucible of war. In the end, it was meaningless to her. Valdus was different. Valdus meant something; something personal.

“Because it was Powder’s blood.” Firefly’s voice quavered as she held the tears back. “My blood.”

“Then you understand the cost of devotion to your cause,” Roshina’s flat tone belied her intent.

A sudden rush of wind snapped Firefly back into awareness, just in time to block Roshina’s counterattack. The charge was quickly followed by a haymaker punch that sent Firefly spinning away and left her jaw throbbing. A tiny rill of blood trickled from her lip as Firefly quickly righted herself.

The pain was a wakeup call, a shot of rage and adrenaline that put her back into the fight. Roshina didn’t understand. But that didn’t matter. Firefly would make her understand.

“I understand what was taken from me, something you’ll never get!”

Firefly caught the wind in her wings, taking the momentum from Roshina’s blow and redirecting it into forward flight. Roshina stood her ground as Firefly approached. Her unwavering calmness faltered for a split second as she saw the fire in Firefly’s eyes. But it was only for a split second. A wave of her hands put up a disc-shaped magical shield in front of her.

Firefly flipped her knife open, this time with blade unsheathed. With one expertly-timed stroke, the aetherium-cored blade smashed through the barrier, spraying glass-like fragments of magical residue into a glittering halo around the two combatants. The sheath slid back onto the knife as Firefly resumed her attack.

What had begun as a clean demonstration of aerial prowess had turned into a vicious barroom brawl. It was brutal, dirty, and visceral; and Firefly was out for blood.

Her attacks were unrelenting; devastating punches chained into whirling kicks and flashing swipes of her combat knife. Each strike drove Roshina back, putting her constantly on the defensive. Finally, Firefly paused to wind up for another wheel kick, giving Roshina enough time to counter.

The dragoness grappled Firefly’s hind leg, using the momentum to swing her around and fling her away. But just as Firefly was about to slip past, she lashed out with a front foreleg, locking her hoof to Roshina’s bracer. Firefly hauled herself back into close combat, delivering a cross punch to the dragoness’ face that sent them both plummeting from the sky.

“If you still think we were heroes at Valdus, you don't know what it's like to lose someone!” Firefly snarled. The rain of blows resumed, both combatants striking, countering, reversing, and spinning wildly as they tumbled in freefall.

Firefly was numb. She could feel liquid, probably blood, being swept across her face by the blowing wind. She could hear the sky rushing past her ears and ruffling her mane and tail, each having come loose from their tie-downs during the fight. Her bones rattled and her muscles shook with every blow she took. Her hooves felt flesh beneath dragonscale give way with every blow she struck.

Firefly was only vaguely aware of an altitude warning in her earpiece. She was too focused on her quarry to care about petty numbers and rules. It wasn’t until she realized she could see details in the ground that she came to. She had to finish this fight. NOW.

A powerful punch broke Firefly’s guard leaving her open to follow-up strikes. Still fighting for control of combat, Firefly slipped backwards, making herself a target and drawing Roshina toward a low-hanging cloud. The dragoness lunged forward with a knockout blow.

Firefly gritted her teeth and charged. She felt what remained of her flak armor crumble into dust as she took the hit head on. There was pain. Pain in her chest. Pain in her head. Pain in her flesh. Her ribs bowed under the impact, threatening to crack. Her held breath protested its imprisonment in her lungs, clawing at the insides of her chest. Her head pounded with pent up blood as she felt Roshina’s other hand close around her neck.

With her last remaining lungful of air, Firefly locked arms with Roshina, leveraging her wings to whirl the dragoness around, sending them both careening toward the cloud.

There was a sound of thunder.

Several long moments passed before Firefly regained the lucidity to properly assess the situation. The pressure against her throat indicated that Roshina had locked her in a submission hold. Looking at the end of her outstretched leg, however indicated that she very well could have finished Roshina; indeed her knife was pressed firmly to the dragoness’ neck.

“Two simultaneous finishers,” the ARC operator reported. “The match ends in a draw!”

Roshina withdrew her hand and Firefly retracted her knife simultaneously, both combatants rolling upright on their feet on the cloud. For a moment, they stood there panting; all they could do was catch their breath. Finally, Roshina spoke.

“Well played, Firefly. I haven’t seen flying like that since Farrier’s Salient.”

“Let’s regroup with the others at the ARC ship,” Firefly almost didn’t allow her time to finish. “We’re due back at the Majestic soon.”

“Firefly.” Firefly’s snippiness gave Roshina pause. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Stow it, Roshina!” Firefly glared daggers at the dragoness. “There’s a reason I don’t brag about being the ‘Demon of Valdus.’ Don’t piss me off by mentioning it again!”

With her rebuke delivered, Firefly whirled around and keyed her radio. “Storm Warden, we’re done here. Return to center of arena for pickup. Wolf One, out.”

6. Legacy

View Online

"You know, I'm not even mad!” Sunburst finally spoke after sucking down more water from his canteen. “That was amazing! If I'd had a proper beer, I would've thought it was a Wonderbolts Show!"

Firefly stared blankly out the ARC ship’s porthole. Her squad continued their idle chatter beside her, but Firefly’s mind was elsewhere. A million thoughts flashed through her head like static on the radio.

"The perks of being splashed first, eh Sunshine?" Eastwind snickered, elbowing Sunburst in the side.

"Damn straight. You weren't so bad yourself!"

"Aw shucks, old sire's actually giving his sassy wingmare a compliment?"

"Not you," Sunburst glowered before pointing a hoof at Thunderlane. "Thunderlane."

"Hey!” Eastwind scowled. “I suplexed a dragon! Did you suplex a dragon?"

The gashes in her cheek would heal. The swelling in her lip would go down. The bruises would fade. The cuts could be stitched up. But history... history would never let go.

"You know what?” Sunburst waved his front hooves dismissively. “I don't even care anymore. I got to sit in a warm cabin while you schmucks froze your flanks off and kicked the horseapples out of each other in the arena!"

"Got kind of warm there near the end," Eastwind said.

Demon. The sobriquet lingered like the putrid miasma of gunsmoke, the very thought of it leaving a foul taste in her mouth. This was no affectionate moniker among squadmates or joking jab from a flight instructor. There was only one place that kind of name could come from.

Fear.

"Caliente!” Thunderlane laughed. “As my old sire would say!"

Respect was foreign enough to Firefly. It felt like all her life she’d been fighting for just a shred of acknowledgement. School, basic, OCS, it didn’t matter; she bit and clawed and bucked to make herself a place. But during the war, she’d gone far beyond that. She had transcended the need for respect. Now they were genuinely afraid of what she could do.

"Where'd you say he was from?" Sunburst said.

Thunderlane kicked back his hooves, putting them up on the galley table. "San Palomino. They joined PEACE about a year ago. Negotiations were in the works a while back but the war kind of threw things for a loop..."

Whispers of that vile epithet susurrated through the airwaves whenever the Timberwolves joined battle. Her opponents hesitated. They showed deference. Their aim was shaky and their blows weak. She could clear the skies by virtue of her very presence.

“Your old sire sounds like my kind of guy!”

“Yeah, except less frat boy and more dad jokes.”

At first, it was exhilarating. Oh the shots she could take when she was free to act, the moves she could pull when no one was bearing down on her with blade and gun! There was a perverse satisfaction Firefly got from those takedowns, a taboo feeling that could only be described as sadistic glee.

“Say what you want about the M-U frats. We really knew how to party!”

“More than the post-academy Bajrams in Cirria?”

“Didn’t realize you were into the whole orgy thing, Windy.”

Eastwind pursed her lips and lifted her brows in surprise. Surprise turned to glee and soon she was cackling madly. “That really what they called them in mainland Equestria?”

“Was that... offensive or something?”

“Not at all! Just wasn’t expecting you to know anything about it. I figured it wasn’t common knowledge on the mainland.”

“I call horsesapples on that!”

“You’re just jealous that I could rack up more pussy than you.”

“Mare, please. You didn’t prove shit with that...”

But even this soon wore on her. The freedom lost its luster. It was ephemeral, all of it. It wasn’t real respect. Her foes couldn’t respect her — how could they? They knew nothing of her; only of her ability to bring swift death to them...

"Yo jefa! You awake? You haven't said anything since we left the arena!"

Firefly blinked. Her lids ground on her eyes like sandpaper, finally alerting her to the fact that she had been staring unblinking into space. She scratched at her itchy eyes with her flight jacket sleeve.

"Just thinking, Thunderlane," Firefly finally said.

"About what?" he pressed.

"Stuff."

"I thought I’d be cordial, boss.”

“Thank you, Thunderlane. Just not in the mood for conversation.”

“Does she always do that?” Thunderlane whispered, turning to Eastwind. It was well within earshot for Firefly, but she ignored it. She had other matters that needed her careful consideration.

Fear got her what she wanted for a while, but it would never be a substitute for respect. Fighting battles got easier, but dealing with nuggets and brass got harder. Soon, her reputation became inescapable. Everywhere she went, that wretched name followed.

Demon.

"... and they don't know what to do when I ask for corned beef!" Khog brayed in laughter. The others in his squad echoed his exuberance.

Dragons were curious creatures. Their culture to Firefly was about as foreign as indigenous zebra tribes and areion conclaves. Despite the size of Fillydelphia, her hometown was mostly Equine with odd smatterings of griffon neighborhoods. Dragons rarely — if ever — made landfall in the parts of it she called home.

"You do realize a lot of the ship is vegetarian, right Khog?" Roshina’s characteristically cool voice rose in response.

"Feh,” the warrior dragon spat. “You'd think Pyrian Home Guard would throw us a bone or something. It’s not like we don’t do their dirty work all day, every day!"

Everything she knew about dragons came from hearsay and fiction. They were proud, strong, tough, and belligerent when challenged, with little in the way of diplomatic sensibilities. Her experience with Typhon squad had proved this to be mostly true. Khog was the very embodiment of such things and Zaan and Grana merely variations on the theme.

"You don't want the Guard throwing anything at you. Trust me."

"Roshina? Backing down from pony-assigned tasks?” Grana sneered. “I swear you're going soft!”

Roshina was the outlier. Despite her warrior prowess, she was no mere brute. She was magically gifted, tactically-minded, and impossible to read. Every time Firefly thought she’d had her pegged, Roshina surprised her with something else. It was infuriating— infuriating and fascinating.

"Better soft-hearted than soft-headed, Grana,” Roshina chided. “Never underestimate a pony. If they can beat the premier AirLand force on the continent in open war, you'd do well to respect them."

Roshina reminded Firefly of the type she’d dealt with in school. They were difficult to forget with their haughty eyes, coiffed manes, prim tails, full bit pouches, and egos the size of Canterlot Castle. Her hatred for them ran deep — beyond envy, beyond temper, and beyond prejudice. Inside, a cold rage smoldered, a rage that wished nothing but ruin upon those who had drawn her ire.

"I'm flattered, Roshina,” Firefly finally said. “I never knew you held Equestrians in such high regard."

“I would be remiss not to do so!” Roshina grinned her toothy dragon grin at the faux compliment, leaving Grana to shake her head and continue her conversation with Khog and Zaan. "I hold anyone who can be a dangerous foe in high regard.”

“Is that your only qualifier for a good person?” Firefly bristled.

Being antagonized was nothing new to Firefly. Teachers and their truancy lectures. Queen bees and their mewling sycophants. Jocks and valedictorian contenders with their dimwitted bravado and pompous snobbery. But no matter their advantages in authority, wealth, strength, or intelligence, Firefly never broke. She never folded. Anyone who picked a fight with her would find an opponent unwilling to give up until one or both of them were completely and utterly destroyed.

“Now you’re putting words in my mouth,” Roshina chuckled. “You think all I care about is combat prowess?”

“More or less.”

Roshina was different. She could plainly see that ferocity. But rather than be taken aback, she faced it without reserve. She didn’t just like it, she relished it. Firefly’s attempts to intimidate only excited her more. This was perhaps more unnerving to Firefly than her combat prowess.

“You’re not one to give easy credit are you?”

“I didn’t survive a war by taking it easy,” Firefly countered. “I figured someone in SOF would know that.”

“More than I care to admit.”

Anger. Envy. Hubris. Roshina provoked the worst in Firefly. Yet she still offered friendship. Was this some kind of sick joke? Another mockery of Firefly’s struggle to carve a place for herself in the world?

“... which is actually why I was planning to talk to you later, Firefly. But I figure now is as good a time as any."

Firefly’s ears perked up. "Oh?"

“I’ll be straightforward. I need to apologize again about training today."

Firefly’s eyes narrowed and her ear twitched. A surly frown dragged down the corners of her lips. This again. Leaning in so as not to catch the ear of either of their squads, Firefly blasted Roshina.

“What the hell is your problem?” She snapped. “I’m sick of telling you to drop it! You mention Valdus one more time and I’ll kick your ass right here on board ship!”

“I’m trying to apologize.” Roshina’s response was equally quiet, but flat in tone in stark contrast to Firefly’s incensed hiss. “You’re not going to let me fix things?”

“There’s nothing to fix.”

“Remember Farrier's Salient?"

“And now you’re changing the subject?”

“Would you just listen to me?” Roshina said, eyes narrowed. “I promise I won’t waste your time.”

Firefly gritted her teeth. It would likely be fruitless. She’d just walk away irritated and never want to speak with Roshina again. But still, something compelled her to stay. Firefly slowly leaned back in her seat, letting her wings droop lazily by her sides.

"Farrier’s Salient, huh? Just after Neighvarrone and Argent Battery first fell to the Aquellian National Army?” She finally replied. “That was at the beginning of the war. Pyre had already pulled out by then. What does Farrier’s Salient matter to you?"

"Because I was deployed there. Pyre may have withdrawn the Home Guard, but several ACG squadrons including my own were still deployed abroad."

"Cut the horseshit and get to the point, Roshina."

Farrier’s Salient was an accident. That sleepy little hollow may well have been ignored for the rest of the war had the Farrier not crashed there. Funny how something little like that can change everything.

“Typhon One, this is Horus. How copy, over?”

The dry, proper voice of the ARC operator roused Roshina from her flight hypnosis. “This is Typhon One. Read you five by five. Send traffic.”

“New orders. You are to divert to grid three eight niner zero niner one.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“We have a downed airship in the AO. Crew is in need of extraction. We’re getting ready to deploy CSAR but we need eyes on and force protection until the ships get there.”

The Farrier was tasked with scouting a potential air corridor toward the Aquellian flank. It got caught up in rotor winds and crashed into a hollow in the middle of nowhere. What they didn’t realize is that they had landed right on the doorstep of an Aquellian FOB.

“That’s what we’re here for, Horus. We’re diverting to target coordinates. Typhon One, out.”

“Should have known they’d send us off on another milk run. Maybe I should have had Grana go with you instead!”

Roshina gave her companion a sidelong glance. The gold of his scales glinted in the late afternoon light, overshadowed only by his enormous self-sure grin. It seemed to bother him little that his stature and magical prowess fell short of his wingmate.

“And here I was thinking that that brain of yours would make you a harder worker, not a lazier one!” She chided.

Bashir Gul was a character. He was that queer blend of social, curious, and smart that ran circles around other ACG candidates and drove officers to conniptions. Usually smart enough to stay out of the line of fire, but reckless enough to be — dare I say it — charming.

“Why work hard when I can work smart?” he chuckled. “Or not work at all? There are finer things in life than the art of war, Roshina!”

“Only your ACG immunity is keeping that attitude from killing your career.”

“They know better than to discharge me!”

“I’d argue the opposite,” Roshina said flatly. “Stay focused. Alter heading to one one niner. Let’s make for that grid.”

It was a routine operation. Find the wreck. Sit on it until C-SAR showed up. Have a nice chat. Fly home in time for tea.

“You ever wonder why we get stuck in this shit?” Bashir’s banter was incorrigible.

“Sometimes,” Roshina said. “But the mission comes before my own sentiments.”

“Some wrinkly-ass olden pony sitting in a board room thousands of klicks away signs a paper and we’re suddenly at war,” the other dragon mused. “Blows your mind, doesn’t it?”

“I thought you were tactics, not philosophy.”

“I dabble in a bit of everything, Rosi dear.”

“Call me that one more time, Bashir, and I’ll—”

A loud boom interrupted her. Golden eyes snapped to target, guided by keen ears honed from years of training and countless combat sorties. A single black puff of gunsmoke bloomed ahead. Roshina knew better than to think it would come alone.

“Airburst! Hit the deck!”

Roshina inverted and pulled hard as more flak bursts exploded around her. Her scales sparked and pinged with skipping shrapnel. Fragmentation did not concern her. The blast itself was far more deadly, able to crush her lungs and break her bones through her thick natural armor.

“Looks like flak cover for CAS and an air assault unit.” Bashir’s voice turned deadly serious. “They know the Farrier is here.”

“Then we have no time to lose.”

Roshina leveled off below the flak field and stretched her arms forward. The snaking gold lines adorning her scales began to glow with an unearthly light, growing in strength as she conjured her magical weapons of war. Roshina’s magic coalesced in the form of a gleaming aegis on her left arm and a quartet of ghostly javelins that hovered around her right, awaiting the command to strike.

Just ahead was a billowing plume of black smoke. Following it to its base revealed the shattered hull of an Equestrian frigate and the deep gash its crash landing had carved into the forest. Charred trees rimmed the twisted prow and sickly violet flames licked at its leaking altus reservoirs. The jagged pocks of flak bursts settled in a cloud atop the wreck, dispensing a flurry of jet-black snow.

“Roshina, gunships!”

Roshina quickly heeded her partner’s warning. Just beneath the cloud of flak lurked two shadows, the bulbous forms of Aquellian gunships. Small two-pilot craft bristling with cannons, rockets, and repeaters, they could give anything short of a capital ship pause all on their own. Roshina squinted through the haze of battle, spotting dim shadows flitting between the gunships.

“Bashir, hit the closest gunship. I’ll deal with their escorts.” Roshina ordered. “FOX THREE!”

A snap of her lips on the missile launch voice code and a flick of her fingers in the aether sent her javelins streaking away. The flitting shadows revealed themselves to be heavily armed griffons in flight as the dragons closed the gap. Roshina’s victims saw the missiles too late. Four brilliant points of light flashed in the formation, casting the gunships’ silhouettes in eerie backlight against the flak cloud above.

It wasn’t unusual for the ANA to use shock and awe tactics. What was overkill for Alliance forces was a routine CAP for the ANA Air Corps. Every fight we had our work cut out for us.

Roshina’s shield swung forward. The high-explosive autocannon rounds blossomed into orange fireballs before her, forcing her to squint back the harsh brightness. She could physically feel the shield weaken, its magical lattice cracking under sustained assault. A wave of her left hand dispelled the shield, splintering it into a thousand glittering fragments and freeing her arm to cast again.

Roshina whirled around, clenching her fists in careful mnemonic motion. More javelins materialized out of the aether, four around each hand. Her closed fists flew open, sending the missiles fanning out before her. With her missiles fired, Roshina turned on her left wing and dove. A quick peek above showed exactly what she wanted to see. The escorts vanished in scintillating points of light, leaving only the gunships.

“Typhon Two engaging!”

Roshina leveled off and reversed her course as dragonfire erupted to her right. Bashir came through on his word. The stream of liquid flame scorched the gunship’s front windscreen, surely blinding the pilots. But Bashir was far from done. The Aquellian gunship lurched to the side as Bashir grappled it. A hammerfist punch smashed the windscreen to splinters and a second blast of flame spelled doom to the vessel and its crew.

The other gunship turned, but held its fire, as if given pause at the violent destruction of its wingmate. Roshina capitalized on the pilot’s hesitation. A magic missile sprang to life at her fingertips and streaked toward the gunship’s underside.

A violent SNAP-CRACK told Roshina her shot had found its mark. The gunship shuddered violently, the purple glow of its engines flickering rapidly before finally flaming out. The gunship listed heavily to starboard and coasted to an uneasy stop, its altus supply the only thing keeping it airborne.

Roshina brought her hands together, her fingertips beginning to glow as she touched her claws at the tips. She then stretched her arms out, spinning threads of coalesced aether into a web before her. With a touch of dragonfire breath to charge the net, Roshina shoved her palms forward, firing a searing white beam of energy into the belly of the crippled ship.

The beam pierced the vessel like a surgeon’s scalpel, slicing machinery, ordnance, and stores alike. Roshina streaked past the stricken ship with a smug grin on her face. Her eyes caught the panicked look on the gunship pilots’ faces before their vessel went up in a roiling ball of purple flame.

“Horus, this is Typhon One, airspace is secured but the ANA are sure to be back for more. What’s the ETA on our C-SAR?”

“Stand by..."

Being told to “stand by” was never a good thing. It always meant either red tape or red alarms. I’d hoped it was red tape, but with how deep we were behind enemy lines, that wasn’t likely to happen.

“Typhon One be advised, Aquellian cruiser closing on your position!”

“Bashir, break!” Roshina barely had time to utter the words before the concussion of an airburst shell slammed into her. So much for red tape.

“Bashir, I need you topside!”

Roshina shouted over the roar of flak as she righted herself. She strained to hear a response over the surrounding din, but the airwaves were quiet. Where was Bashir? A sudden realization made the blood run cold in her veins. Her eyes snapped to movement in the periphery.

In the distance, the silhouette of a lone dragon tumbled from the sky, its carapace bleeding black smoke and purple flame.

“Bashir!”

“... and that was all it took. One round and he was gone. Never saw it coming.”

It took a moment for Firefly to regain lucidity. Roshina’s tale was enrapturing. Even more so because of the subject matter. A wellspring of feelings continued to resonate in her chest even after Roshina had finished the story. After a long breath, Firefly finally spoke.

“So you know what it’s like,” she said quietly.

Roshina nodded.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Firefly continued.

“As am I,” Roshina said.

“Why tell me, though?” Firefly suddenly said. “You can’t tell me that you go around baring your soul to just anypony.”

“I don’t, no.” Roshina paused for a moment as if to contemplate. “But if there’s one thing I’ve come to love in life, it’s learning. We have a lot in common — a lot we can learn from each other. If that takes a bit of opening up, that’s a calculated risk I’m willing to take.”

Roshina? Take a risk? For her of all ponies? Firefly was dumbfounded. But Roshina was not done yet.

“So what do you say? Friends?”

Firefly’s face betrayed nothing. But inside, she was reeling. All of the ups and downs of the previous few days had finally come to a head. Old feelings had become new again. Enemies of the past had become enemies of the present. Fierce rivals had become fast friends.

“Friends,” Firefly finally said, sticking out her hoof to shake.

Roshina grabbed firmly and shook, sealing the deal. It was then that Firefly realized that the cabin had fallen into silence. She raised her head and looked around. Dragons and one side and ponies on the other, both squads had their eyes firmly locked on their respective leaders. In an instant, Firefly’s commander bluster returned.

“The hay are you all looking at?” she growled. “Is there something stuck to my muzzle?”

A quiet murmur spread among both squads before Thunderlane spoke up. “We just, uh, weren’t expecting it, jefa.”

“What, I can’t make new friends?” Firefly retorted with a smirk.

“Go right ahead!” laughed Sunburst. “Just don’t leave your old friends behind!”

“I’m flattered, Sunshine! Never thought I’d get the honor of having the old fogey call me ‘friend’!”

Sunburst rolled his eyes and groaned. “I’m not that old!”

“Says the only one with wrinkles!” Eastwind snickered.

“You know that thing you do where you don’t help?” Sunburst growled in retort. “You’re doing it again!”

“And I thought it was bad when we talked about Roshina!” Khog guffawed.

Roshina responded with a dirty glare. “Now don’t you start, Khog!”

“Guess Rojo over there isn’t so stiff after all!” Thunderlane joined him.

Laughter erupted from the galley as the prior tension dissolved. The barrier between the two squads had finally been broken. Firefly leaned back and nestled into her seat, pulling her flier’s cap over her eyes as she let the chatter between squads fade out of her attention.

Roshina was different. She was more than an empty uniform wrapped in scaly armor. She was complex, individual, and — dare Firefly say it — personable. Though they didn’t always see eye to eye, they had more in common than Firefly would have admitted before. She was not the enemy.

For Firefly that was good enough.

7. Pernach

View Online

Leg in each sleeve. Zip the front. Scarf on. Cap on. Goggles on. Harness on. Check clasps.

Firefly had repeated the process so many times that she could have done it in her sleep. But sleep was the last thing on her mind. Instead, there was a spring in her step that drove her forward. A barely concealed grin crossed her face as she slipped into her gear, the warm caress of freshly laundered combat uniform enveloping her like a second skin.

In the wake of the attack on Onyx, combat sorties had escalated to a fever pitch. VFA-108 squads were on sortie nearly every day. In addition, the Majestic and its support vessels had been deployed farther into the Outer Rim with each mission. To most ponies, it was a chore. But to Firefly, it was invigorating. She practically skipped down the corridor to the quarters of her squadmates.

“Up and at ‘em, lazyflanks! CAG wants us in the ready room ten minutes ago!” She barked.

“Good to see you, too, jefa,” Thunderlane said as he hopped to his hooves. “Should I get the bucket of snow to wake up the old sire or will a buck to the ribs do?”

“You do either and I’ll kick your ass off the flight deck!” Sunburst growled from his bunk.

“And if you don’t get up, I’ll kick your ass off the flight deck!” Firefly retorted. “Get up!”

“I’m up! I’m up!” Sunburst groaned as he stood.

The last few weeks had been brutal. Enemy contact was made on every sortie and nearly every encounter Firefly had fought involved exchange of gunfire. Tensions ran high. Firefly could feel it in the sterile recirculated air of the Majestic’s corridors. The very metal of the decks seemed to reverberate with unspoken excitement.

“So what’s on the docket today, jefa?” Thunderlane said as the trotted out of crew quarters. “Another force recon run into the Outer Rim?”

The rapid pace of combat operations had been a baptism by fire for the squad. Thunderlane had relaxed considerably, swapping out the usual “commander this” and “commander that” for a more casual jefa; “boss” as he translated it from his father’s native tongue. Firefly ordinarily bristled at strange titles, but Thunderlane’s good nature was contagious, even warming Firefly up to the title.

Thunderlane himself had grown up for certain. Team cohesion was tighter than ever before and any questioning was with regards to who had to pay for drinks on shore leave. This was the kind of squad Firefly was used to working with. This was Firefly’s greatest weapon. No bruise, shrapnel cut, or concussion could take away from her the sheer euphoria of fighting as part of a well-oiled war machine.

“CAG didn’t say exactly what it was,” Firefly continued. “But I’ve got a good feeling about this. It’s going to be something big.”

“Yeah well let’s hope the biggest thing we have to deal with is the massive shit Eastwind took last night. Damn thing stank up the whole head,” Sunburst grumbled through a yawn. “I’d love to be able to go back to bed until our scheduled CAP this afternoon.”

“Still need more sleep? I shouldn’t be surprised. Gotta save up a whole week’s worth just to disappoint one junior flier this weekend huh, abuelo?” Thunderlane cracked.

“You shut your horse mouth, kid!” Sunburst’s eyes narrowed into a mock glare, to which Thunderlane responded to with a cheerful nicker.

Sunburst, of course, was himself. Half real grump, half joking lecher, all Sunburst. Despite his complaints, he kept pace with air wing operations even under Firefly’s unorthodox leadership style. Age, it appeared, was not a defining factor of combat prowess.

“Funny. I thought he was right on point!” Eastwind slinked into formation, falling in at Firefly’s side.

“Well look who it is; little miss Breakwind herself!” Sunburst jeered.

“That’s little miss Rainbows and Sparkles to you, Sunshine!”

Firefly couldn’t help but crack a smile. Eastwind’s impish demeanor and crass humor was a staple of squadron banter, the running joke being that she had even begun to corrupt Thunderlane. Whether the rookie officer would begin cracking dirty jokes on his own was another matter entirely, however.

Firefly herself had changed. She was sleeping better than she had in weeks and every morning she woke up energized. Firefly wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of being in active combat again or if the electric attitudes on a vessel at war were contagious. Either way, it was a welcome change from the previous scutwork of CAPs in empty sky and long patrols into the Outer Rim.

“All right, that’s enough!” Firefly raised her voice to cut them off. “I’m the flight leader, not the foalsitter! Celestia and Luna you guys are catty...”

“I know the feeling, Firefly.”

All heads turned to origin of the voice. The signature toothy reptilian grin of a sorcerer-dragon greeted the Timberwolves. In tow were the other dragons of her ACG team, fully clad in combat gear in preparation for their next sortie.

“Good to see you again, Roshina,” Firefly said, raising her hoof to Roshina.

“Likewise, Firefly.” Roshina returned the hoof gesture with a closed fist, bumping it against Firefly’s hoof in greeting. “Where are they sending you today? Yet another re-emerged village in the wastes?”

“No clue, actually. But we were scheduled for a late afternoon CAP today, so screwing us out of that schedule means we must be doing something special. What about you?”

“The same. Something big is happening. The captain is very picky about his schedules.”

“Hey, hey! Esse! What up?” Thunderlane’s voice cut through the conversation, momentarily drawing Firefly’s ear.

“Excuse me?” Khog said, surprisingly more confused than annoyed.

Thunderlane’s cheeriness remained unfazed. “It’s like bro! You got a word for that in your language?”

“As in brother?” The warrior dragon crossed his arms and continued to eye Thunderlane with a quizzical expression.

“Comrade, brother, chum, somepony you’re the best of friends with, somepony who’d take a bullet for you! You know?”

“Wror is ‘brother’ in our language.” Khog looked thoughtful for a moment. “Dragons do not have that metaphor like you describe. The language is very formal compared to Common. Most clan dragons, after all, are solitary creatures after they come of age.”

“You’ve got a long way to go, Rojo!” Thunderlane laughed.

Khog snorted in consternation.

“We should be inside,” Roshina said. “The CAG will be expecting us.”

“Right on,” Firefly nodded. “Timberwolves! Tighten it up! We’re off to briefing!”

The two flights filed into the ready room as they had done many times before. Firefly halted as she crossed the hatch threshold. Instead of the handful of flights from her squadron, the small auditorium-like chamber was packed with fliers. A quick scan of the crowd showed familiar faces. Atal and Forge from the armory, Storm Shadow and Medley from Taipan flight; it seemed the Majestic’s entire air wing and its support elements had assembled there.

Thunderlane whistled in awe. “You were right, jefa. Something big is going down. Last time I saw something like this was before they shipped me out!”

“Don’t expect refreshments and a parade like academy graduation, kid,” Sunburst grunted gruffly. “Big gatherings when you’re at war means bad news.”

“Find a space. Looks like we’re SRO.”

Firefly shuffled between standing fliers in the back of the ready room, clearing out space for her team in the gathered crowd. Idle conversation buzzed all around her, most pertaining to the inanities of life aboard ship, but enough slipping into rumors of operations and maneuvers for her to know that she was not the only curious pony in the room. The rest of her squad slipped into the gap she had created, all eagerly awaiting the news.

“Commander on deck!” The call to attention rapidly spread throughout the ready room, setting off a chain reaction of standing up and salutes.

“As you were,” came the immediate response.

Brahma Kamal made her entrance. Her dress was impeccable as usual, her uniform pressed to regulation and her garrison cap visor polished to a mirror sheen. It could have been another ordinary pre-sortie briefing in the ready room, but the look on Brahma’s face told a different story. There was a strange mix of grave concern and muted excitement in her stony commander’s visage. Finally reaching the podium, she began.

“Let me begin by saying I’m proud of all of you for your diligence and dedication, especially in the last few weeks.” A faint murmur went up in the gathered fliers at the strange beginning, though it quickly dissipated when Brahma raised a hoof, asking for silence. “We have been at war in all but name. Let me reassure you that the fights we've been in, the losses we've sustained, they are not in vain.”

The projection screen behind the commander flickered to life. “Last night, we got the big break we needed. The Royal Equestrian Intelligence Network has identified the one who’s pulling the strings.”

The pony manning the projector shifted to the first slide at Brahma’s nod. The photograph shown was faded and worn, with black marks along the edges to suggest that it had suffered fire damage. The weathered nature of the image, however, did nothing to marr the visage of the griffon presented to the squadron. Her plumage was variegated black and white, with mottled chest feathering and a prominent black cap for a crest. Streaks of grey cut amongst the feathers of her neck, marking scars where blade, bullet, and shrapnel had failed to finish her.

"Colonel Kira Cindermane. They call her Pernach; the mace. The Aquellian Agency for Strategic Intelligence, REIN, and Stallian Guard Rangers have been after her since the end of the war.”

The slides cycled, showing a worn order of battle chart with Cindermane at the top. “Cindermane’s battalion, the Red Talons, had previously seen action both in Indrek against Indrekan Revolutionary Army and in Alcea against the REA. Shortly before the Battle of Valdus, they went rogue, taking the entire airship lance with them.”

Firefly stared into the cold eyes of the griffon marine officer. Even in the file photograph, her uncompromising nature shone through. Her face was hardened by time and tempered in flame. There was passion in those eyes, a burning ferocity that matched Firefly’s own, but there was no mercy to be found. Cindermane’s features bore an edge sharp enough to maim even the most gallant flier’s courage.

“...Expect heavy resistance from the last remnants of the Aquellian nationalists and the latest and greatest griffon military hardware...”

Firefly scanned the slew of medals pinned to Cindermane’s uniform. Purple Heart with stars for injury in combat. Combat Action Ribbon. Expert Marksman Badge. Aquellian Marine Special Tactics Group tabs. Finally, her eyes fell upon the inconspicuous award device at the bottom of her commendation boards.

“...Cindermane seems to think that she can carve out a slice of paradise from the Crystal Empire with extortion and intimidation. As you well know, the Alliance doesn’t negotiate with terrorists...”

Firefly couldn’t take her eyes off the medal. It bore the insignia of an iron helm with crossed lightning bolts beneath superimposed upon a hoplon shield. There was only one word that came to Firefly’s mind.

Ironclad.

“Jefa.”

Thunderlane’s terse whisper broke Firefly out of her fugue. His hoof rested on her shoulder, the look of concern on his face obvious when Firefly finally met his gaze. Eastwind and Sunburst watched through the corners of their eyes just beyond him, but nopony else seemed to have noticed. Firefly took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She gently brushed Thunderlane’s hoof off her shoulder and motioned with her head back toward Brahma.

Everything was fine.

“When we find where she’s hiding, we will go after Cindermane. Until then, we must take steps to draw her out.”

More text from the dossier jumped out at her. The Assault on Graeae’s Cauldron. Counterinsurgency operations against INDRA. Battle of Aureus. The Defense of Argent Battery. There was no mistake; Cindermane was a war hero. With her combat record, she was also a brilliant tactician. She would be a dangerous foe indeed.

The slides continued to advance, showing photographs of a massive vessel, a floating behemoth of metal and altus envelopes. The design bore evidence of Aquellian design, including the signature beak-like prow and heavy armor plate. Despite the marks of griffon naval engineers, the vessel did not appear to be a warship. Its lines were bulky and unaerodynamic, its gun batteries strew haphazardly across what would have been the flight deck on a ship like the Majestic. Most strikingly of all, a colossal web of metal lattice rose from its dorsal spine where a warship's superstructure would sit. The lattice enclosed a cluster of globular metal tanks and a conspicuous tower in the middle.

Echoing her thoughts, Thunderlane let slip, "What in the hay is that?"

“This is the Titan’s Keeper. It is of the Colossus-class, one of the largest vessels ever produced. The entire ship is configured as a mobile LACE refinery, ideal for supporting expeditionary operations.”

The next slide moved into place, a telephoto shot showing the Colossus resting on the ground. All around it was lush forest. If Firefly squinted, she could make out the silhouettes of griffon soldiers on patrol around it.

“Cindermane’s fleet contained at least four of these vessels and our scouts have located two. If we capture these, we starve Cindermane’s fleet. Breaking her ability to maneuver freely will ensure that we have the advantage in offensive operations. And before you ask, the Titan’s Keeper is still Aquellian government property and the griffons would greatly appreciate it if it was returned to them in one piece.”

“Well there went plan A,” Eastwind chuckled under her breath. Firefly couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Today we begin Operation Northern Lance,” Brahma continued as the image shifted to a topographical map with overlaid arrows indicating fleet movements. “You will be joined by elements of the Hesperian 5th Fleet, Gold Lance from the Aquellian 1st Aerie, and 74th Regiment from the Stallian Guard Rangers. Hesperian Commandos from 3rd Regiment and Aquellian marines from 1st Aerie will provide ground support. The Ward of the Empyrean and her battlegroup will be making a similar attack to our east as part of the operation.”

“Our first objective will be to seize the Titan’s Keeper. The Keeper is currently parked on top of an aetherium vein in the Azura Oasis. They can’t exactly pack up the operation quickly, so this is our opportunity to strike.”

“Kick ‘em in the stones while they’re popping a squat,” Sunburst snickered. “I like it already!”

“Garm, Garuda, and Phoenix teams will launch far north of the base,” Brahma continued. “They will provide cover for Aquellian Marines from 1st Aerie as they set up anti-air defenses and ASTRA blimps. If the Talons run north, they’ll hit that wall.”

The slide changed, showing icons with the squad insignias of Firefly’s team and their sister units. “Hydra, Manticore, and Timberwolf will approach from the south. You will establish air superiority and provide security for ground forces as they clear the oasis.”

“Enemy strength is expected to be company-sized; small, but determined and well-entrenched...”

As Brahma went on with the briefing, Firefly quickly glanced around the room. All around, fliers looked to each other before looking back at the projection screen. The nervous tension was palpable. Everypony was practically chomping at the bit to launch, including Firefly herself. This was it. This was the big push. No more busywork, no more CAPs in secure airspace. They were finally going on the offensive.

“... any questions?” Brahma finished.

“Only one, ma’am.” Firefly replied immediately. “When do we start?”

8. Colossus

View Online

“Why do we have to wait now? Weren’t they all gung ho about running the op this morning?”

“SNAFU with one of the ships. Typical. You make a bucket cold enough, it’ll crack like a dry biscuit when you heat it back up.”

“You think they’ll scrub the mission? I’d rather not freeze my ass off just to have to head back to base.”

“Not gonna happen. The Major would probably tear FleetCOM a new one if he didn’t see any action today.”

Though the chatter was punctuated with laughter, a nervous energy coursed through the cold air of the hidden crevasse. The troops were restless. So, too, was Firefly. Her legs and wings burned with energy, eager to be running, jumping, flying, shooting, anything that would break the monotony of endless waiting.

Firefly stole a quick glance at the Squall-class fast attack vessels sitting idle as she paced from one end of the crevasse to the other. Painted a dull shade of stormcloud grey, they could easily be passed over in the monochrome of the arctic wastes. A closer look would reveal the magnitude of making such a mistake.

Each Squall ship was smaller than an ARC ship, accommodating no more than two dozen soldiers piled in with all their gear. Light Special Operations Craft, or LSOC they were called in the usual dryness of military acronym. The LSOCs were also open-topped, their low sides offering little protection against bullets or flak. Lack of armor, however, did not mean lack of protection. The ships bristled with machine guns, barrels pointing every which way like a porcupine’s quills. Ballistic lance tubes could be seen strapped to the sides for easy access. At the bow stood the LSOC’s main battery: a massive double-barreled automatic cannon mounted to a powered traversal with a full-body control harness for the gunner.

The tiny ships were all about speed and firepower. Nowhere was there space for provisions or even an inch of cover for weathering the storms that frequented the Outer Rim. Instead, every soldier present was bundled up in heavy winter uniforms, their gear and weapons all dusted with a fine coat of hoarfrost-- the result of waiting the past few hours in an ice canyon for the order to attack.

“That’s the fourth time in the last two hours you’ve field stripped that rifle, Grimm,” Firefly said as she approached a griffon soldier.

Thunderlane and Eastwind were trading stories with the Aquellian Marines and Sunburst had sauntered off with an old Stallian Guard friend, leaving Firefly to wander among the Hesperian Commandos alone. Not that she minded. Trotting through idle chatter made her feel more at ease than among senior officership. Most of the commandos spoke of hoofball scores, bar conquests, billiards games, or home life; a far cry from war, government, and office politics.

“Force of habit, ma’am,” the young griffon said, barely looking up from her cleaning ritual.

“The air force is restless I see!” A loud, hearty laugh followed the pronouncement, each echoing through the crevasse. “Don’t you worry about the little things, doll. We’ll be kicking pirate ass soon enough!”

Firefly bristled. Doll? Really? She scowled as she turned to face the voice.

The new arrival was somepony to behold. The stallion was a marvelous physical specimen. He towered above the other troops, standing nearly as tall as an alicorn princess, with shoulders seemingly the width of two ponies abreast. His features appeared to be chiseled out of solid granite, the combat harness and attached rifle appearing far too small for him. He carried himself like he was larger than life, a colt’s comic book hero who had just stepped off the page and onto the battlefield.

“Mornin’ Valor!” Grimmclaw chirped. She acknowledged the Major’s presence, but did not stand up, her claws remaining on her previous task. It was clear that the unit eschewed with standard formalities in the field. “I didn’t even hear you there!”

The Major stopped a moment to study Firefly. A smirk crawled across his face. “You’re not starting trouble with my commandos, are you?”

Meathead. Firefly had seen plenty of them at academy and wasn’t impressed. Big boys with little brains always covered up lack of sense with copious amounts of swagger. This stallion had a grin plastered across his muzzle like he’d just relieved himself in Firefly’s foot locker. Yup, just like OCS.

“Been talking to Skywind, I see,” Firefly finally said, deadpan.

“Not at all!” The Major paused to laugh some more. “Skywind is the biggest blowhard I’ve ever seen in all my years of service. You can't see his captain’s bird because it’s too far up his own ass.”

Valor’s jab at the Captain immediately set Firefly at ease. Who else but another soldier with great grit and good humor would drop a joke at Skywind’s expense? Firefly couldn’t help but crack a smile and let slip a giggle.

“For what it’s worth, I always put that in our performance reviews,” she ventured. “CAG always seems to catch me, though!”

“If she doesn’t, she’s not doing her job! After all, the company commander’s job is to make sure battalion never hears about the shit her company’s always getting into!”

“Too true.” Firefly extended a hoof to shake, finally settling into conversational stride with the Major. “Firefly. I don’t believe we were ever formally introduced.”

“Valorous Deed,” the large stallion smiled as he shook Firefly’s hoof. “Most around here just call me Valor. Don’t even bother with ‘major this’ and ‘major that.’ We’re commandos, not foals.”

“Tell that to brass,” Firefly snorted in contempt. “Best CFT in the fleet and Skywind still thinks we need foalsat. At least we usually have the CAG on our side.”

“Ah, the famous Brahma Kamal of the Argent Defense. She has quite a following among our air wings.”

Firefly raised an eyebrow. “Because she’s aerion?”

“Pfah!” Valor scoffed. “It takes far more than a pretty set of wings and ear tufts to impress a true Hesperian flier!”

“Would it really?”

“I’m truly offended, commander!” Valor poured every ounce of mock offense he could into the response. “You really think we’re a gaggle of lecherous cretins?”

“Of course!” Firefly grinned. “Isn’t that what we all are?”

The two shared a laugh. Perhaps Valor wasn’t so bad after all. The good humor and sheer candidness of the Major had warmed Firefly up to him considerably.

“But really now. Never got to meet Brahma face to face. The Admiral has us on ops so often we rarely get hooves down time on base or on ship.”

“I’ll tell you that all the good things are true and all the bad things are sour grapes,” Firefly nodded. “She gives credit where credit is due. Commander Kamal is also a Continental War vet. Even the nuggets respect that.”

“Aye.” Valor paused for a moment to extract a cigarette from his combat harness. “Care for a drag?”

“I don’t smoke,” Firefly dismissed the cig with a wave of her hoof.

Valor shrugged and lit his smoke. “So where were you deployed during the War?”

“Everywhere. First in, last out.”

“Aureus to Valdus, eh?” Thin wisps of smoke drifted from his nostrils, curling around Valor’s muzzle as he grinned.

Firefly wrinkled her muzzle at the smell. The odor was slightly peppery, with what seemed to be a hint of gunpowder on it, which while unsettling, was somehow fitting of the Major. Still, Firefly preferred her poisons from a bottle.

“Aureus to Valdus,” Firefly repeated the Major’s words. “I hate wearing my class-A. Too many damn medals. I look like a walking Hearth’s Warming Wreath at formal events!”

Valor chuckled. “I get that. What’s a shiny bit of metal have to do with a mare’s mettle anyhow? Where I come from we show off our scars, not our jewelry!”

Scars, not bars. Firefly had heard the idiom tossed around on board ship, mostly from its non-Equestrian crew. This team was attached to the Hesperian Navy Commandos, so it was pretty safe to assume their native land. Valor’s straightforwardness all but confirmed it, but there was only one way to find out for certain.

“Hesperian native, I take it?”

“Aye. Born and raised,” Valor said, blowing a puff of smoke from his lips. “What gave it away?”

“Call it a hunch,” Firefly smirked. “One of my ARC operators is Hesperian. Always lets us know it when we’re not calling targets over the wireless.”

“Just couldn’t get enough of the sky at home, probably.” Valor shrugged before expelling another puff of smoke through his teeth. “That’s why most of us are out here, you know. Wanderlust is in our blood.”

“Fighting, too, I take it.”

Valor chuckled. “Combat and exploration go hoof in hoof. If you’re not challenging yourself, you’re doing it wrong.”

“I’ll say.” Firefly shifted her stance, taking up a more relaxed lean on the LSOC next to Valor. “I know earth ponies who get airsick the second they’re off the ground.”

“Not I! Mother always said I should have been born a pegasus.” Valor changed his inflection, mockingly imitating the rasp of a cranky old mare. “There’s no way you’re going up on an airship! If the gods wanted you to fly they would’ve given you wings!”

“And look where you ended up!” Firefly nickered.

“Heh. I love my mother to death, but she was still wrong,” Valor grinned. “Most of my service my hooves didn’t even touch the ground. But I never minded. My family was all sailors and soldiers. The sky is a sea all to its own and I was born to sail it."

“Guess I never thought of it that way. When you’re born with wings, you tend to take the sky for granted.”

The airwaves suddenly crackled to life, drawing both Firefly and Valor’s attention to their wireless sets. “To all Paladin elements, this is Storm Warden relaying from Majestic. All ground assault teams and escorts report in.”

“That’s our cue,” Firefly said, giving her new friend a smile. “I look forward to finishing our little chat later.”

“Likewise,” Valor grinned, flicking his spent cigarette away. “Galatine unit! Suit up and load up! It’s ass-kicking time!”

The two parted ways, heading to opposite sides of the crevasse. A chorus of affirmatives echoed through the network. Firefly keyed her radio in accord. “Timberwolf copies.”

“Galatine copies.”

“Manticore understands.”

“Hydra ready.”

“Orthros reads five by five.”

“All units are cleared for launch in five majesties,” relayed Storm Warden, “Command authorizes weapons hot once you’ve reached IP for your attacks.”

The glacial crevasse filled with the sound of aetherjet engines spooling up as the fast attack vessels began their startup sequence. But even through the whine of turbines, Firefly could feel a low thrum that pulsed in her bones. The faint boom of distant artillery fire confirmed her hunch. The bombardment had begun. Firefly found the other Timberwolves waiting for her at the far end of their hiding place.

“Looks like the party started without us!” Eastwind had to shout to be heard above the noise of engines.

“Then we need to catch up!” Firefly shouted in reply. “Let’s get airborne!”

The pegasi stretched their wings, shaking the frost out of their coats and feathers, running final checks on guns and gear before finally lifting off. Firefly’s crouching leap pushed her away from the frigid ground, where her outstretched wings caught her. She powered her way upward until she finally erupted from the crevasse. All around her, other pegasi streamed out of their bivouac, leveling off in a protective shell around the LSOCs.

Ahead, Firefly could already see the first signs of a fight. Bursts of flak tore the sky and streams of tracer fire leaped between gun emplacements in both ground and air. On the ground, explosive rounds smashed great craters into the permafrost, throwing tall plumes of steam and dust into the air. To their flanks, the silhouettes of heavy airships flying Equestrian Alliance colors shimmered in the sunlight, their standards awash with frigid wind and their outlines folded into odd shapes by the shockwaves of artillery rounds screeching away at breakneck speed.

Firefly keyed her radio. “Storm Warden, this is Timberwolf One. IP has been reached. Standing by for bombardment hold.”

“Copy that, Timberwolf. Gunnery is opening your corridor. You’re cleared to begin your run.”

The Timberwolves formed up and maneuvered into position off the bow of their Squall ship. Firefly gave the pilot a quick nod. The rush of cold wind rose to a ghastly howl as the ship accelerated to top speed. Firefly adjusted her wings to catch the displaced air, riding along with the Squall ship’s bow wave.

“Beginning approach. We’ll make sure Major Valor gets to the ground in one piece.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Commander!” The major laughed heartily. “If I don’t get to kick some griffon ass today, you’re paying my bar tab tonight!”

“Real charmer, isn’t he?” Sunburst snarked.

“Mmm.” Eastwind purred. “Quite the specimen, too!”

“Can it!” Firefly growled. “This is Azura, not the Horseshoe!”

The curtain of flak fire rapidly rolled back, clearing the path for the assault ships and their escorts. As the combat fliers cleared the south ridge, the oasis yawned beneath them. Icy rock fell away in great cliffs and jagged ravines to the west and the east. Picturesque pools of steaming water streaming from hot springs beneath the earth dotted the lush greenery that bloomed to the north. The air immediately warmed as the fliers crossed the boundary between arctic wasteland and geothermal oasis. A layer of light fog hung low over the valley. Firefly squinted. Near the center of the oasis, a dark grey shape loomed.

“Storm Warden, this is Wolf Lead,” Firefly said. “I visual on the Titan’s Keeper. Proceeding with assault.”

“Understood, Timberwolf... wait, be advised,” came the warning from Storm Warden, “New radar contacts at zero one eight. Tally nine bandits; eight fliers and one Kestrel gunship closing in on your formation.”

“Of course it couldn’t be easy!” Sunburst shouted above the wind.

“ETA on that gunship?”

“Three minutes.”

“Storm Warden,” Firefly radioed. “Relay for the rest of the assault team. We’re splitting the formation. Hydra, Manticore, and Galatine Three and Four; head east and continue your assault on the Keeper. Orthros, take Galatine One and Two and maintain your course. Timberwolves, you’re with me.”

“What about the gunship?” Thunderlane said.

“We need to thin out the other fliers or we won’t get the chance to line up a shot at the gunship,” Firefly replied. She waved a hoof ahead of her at the rapidly approaching griffons. “Trust me!”

Firefly immediately nosed up and gave her wings a hard flap, rocketing straight up into the wispy clouds that floated above the oasis. She was already beginning to sweat, not from nervousness, but from heat. The transition between freezing cold and jungle humidity had been sudden and unexpected. When they’d said geothermal oasis, Firefly assumed they meant a hollow in the ice that was a little less cold. She could only hope the pirates were suffering the same stresses from heat.

“Firefly! Contact!” Thunderlane radioed. “Bandits twelve o’clock high!”

Firefly nodded and turned to Valor’s ship. “Galatine One, I need HE airburst in the middle of that formation!”

“Music to my ears, Wolf One!”

The lead ship’s main battery roared to life, spitting great gouts of flame and smoke as blazing autocannon rounds shrieked downrange. Explosive flak bursts tore the sky ahead. Just as expected, the griffon formation splintered, each of the enemy fliers splitting off into pairs. A feral grin crawled across Firefly’s face. Easy prey.

“Order’s, ma’am?” came Valor’s voice.

“Galatine, maintain your course. Get to the refinery and take control. Leave the furball to us!”

“On the way, commander.”

“Timberwolves, break left,” she ordered. “It’s time to hunt!”

Sunburst and Eastwind rapidly peeled off, diving to gain speed before disappearing into the web of tracers and flak bursts around the LSOCs. The wind around Firefly shifted fiercely as she pulled into a chandelle turn to regain lost altitude. Sulfur stench burned at her nostrils and humid air clawed at her feathers. She breathed deeply the scent of battle and turned her guns into the fray.

“Two bandits dead ahead, Jefa!” Thunderlane called the targets ahead.

Barely perceptible movements of her tail and wings brought her sights onto target. The notched circle of her reflector sight gently brushed her target’s back.

POP POP POP POP POP POP POP POP.

Deafening whip-cracks of supersonic bullets assaulted Firefly’s ears. The same reflexes that allowed her to zero in on targets pushed her out of the way of the vicious reprisal from her new attacker. Firefly spiraled and spun through the streams of green tracers coming in from her left flank, finally using her hind legs to kick her into a head-on approach against the second griffon. A burst of purple tracers from just ahead alerted Firefly to Thunderlane’s presence. The lieutenant was in hot pursuit, maneuvering for a shot that his target refused to give him.

A quick squeeze of the trigger sprayed purple lances the other way, a wordless warning to Thunderlane that they were rapidly closing on the same target. Firefly quickly inverted and dropped altitude. A stream of gunfire shot through the space she’d occupied moments ago. With path set, Firefly unlocked and drew her knife. Its adamantite edge gleamed in the sunlight and the aetherium core seemed to thrum with anticipation of bloodshed.

The gap closed and the griffon tried once more to train his gun upon Firefly. His advance as rebuked by Firefly’s gun, forcing a last second evade that threw him right into her flight path. The shining blade lashed out, cutting fast and deep into the griffon’s underside as Firefly passed beneath. Stunned by the bite of the blade, the griffon’s momentum continued to carry him, limbs flailing as he tried to stabilize himself. The momentary distraction was all it took. A hail of aether lances sliced through metal, leather, flesh, and bone, sending the wounded bird into a verdant grave below. A split second later, Thunderlane streaked past Firefly, vapor trailing from the barrel of his repeater and a grin of raw exuberance plastered on his face.

“Splash one!” Thunderlane cheered.

“Can confirm,” Firefly echoed. “Wolf Two, one bandit splashed. Chock up another one, Storm Warden.”

Firefly smirked. The boyish enthusiasm was incorrigible. But the fight was far from over. There was an enemy flier who had gotten away. Firefly climbed, passing through a thin cloud before resuming her visual scan. Her prey was crafty. Her ear twitched as she felt the unnatural movement of air behind her. Firefly whirled around just in time to catch her attacker’s arm between her wrists, stopping the knife that was meant for her spine. The owl griffon roared in frustration and lashed out with his free claw.

“Sneaky bastard, aren’t you?” Firefly growled as she deftly dodged the punch.

She quickly twisted her front hooves around and the griffon’s claw with them, wresting the knife free from his grasp. As the knife fell, Firefly struck. Her hooves lashed out and her blade flashed faster than the eye could see. The griffon clutched his face and shrieked in pain, a bright crimson stain seeping into his feathers. A vicious buck from Firefly’s hind legs launched her foe back. With a final whirling strike, Firefly whipped her tail around, the tip of which had caught her opponent’s blade. A deft flick of her haunches sent it streaking back to its owner. For a moment, the griffon seemed to hang frozen in the air as his throat became the final resting place of his own blade. His struggle ceased and he fell away into the jungle below.

“Wolf One, bandit splashed,” Firefly radioed. She shifted her attention to her other squadmates. “Eastwind, SITREP?”

“Bandit splashed, five more to go!”

“We’re running out of time! We have to finish this!” Thunderlane said.

Firefly’s eyes rapidly scanned the battlefield. Gunfire flashed around the two LSOCs as Eastwind and Sunburst dueled Talon marines and set up shots for Galatine’s gunners. This was winnable with enough time, but time was not a luxury they had.

“That gunship is firing! Break, break!”

The shouted command came nearly too late. Firefly clenched her teeth and tensed her wings in preparation to act. The bird-shaped shadow in the haze ahead flashed ominously with red-golden light. The air around the second LSOC erupted into roiling fireballs as the rocket barrage found its mark. Firefly powered forward, knowing it would happen again without her intervention.

“Mayday, mayday, Galatine Two is hit! Main gun is down! Nav is down! I’m losing fuel pressure!”

“New plan! Put that ship down, Galatine Two! Save who you can!” Firefly ordered. “Orthros, finish off what’s left of the escorts! Galatine One, maintain defensive posture! Timberwolves, on me! We’re ending this!”

As Firefly approached, the shadow resolved itself into a monstrous metal beast. A bulbous canopy reinforced by steel cage formed the centerpiece of the cockpit, the front of which sported a quad machine gun cluster. Stub wings framed the cockpit, each laden with rockets and gun pods with enough firepower to bring down a small armada. Even the hum of the ship’s aetherjet engines seemed to exude predatory menace.

“Flanking attacks, target the engines!” Firefly barked her orders. “Slow it down then hit it with ballistic lances!”

“Understood,” came the reply from Thunderlane. “Set me up a shot!”

“Gladly!” Firefly rushed forward, repeater blazing, making every effort to make sure the gunship noticed her.

The metal beast obliged. Its forward guns roared to life, spewing green tracers at Firefly. She broke sharply to the left, dancing up and down as the tracer stream tracked her across the sky.

“Lining up for gun run!”

Thunderlane blazed away, but his shots found empty air. The gunship swerved to avoid his fire, deliberately protecting its weak spots while keeping its guns and armor pointed toward the threats. Another burst of green tracers scattered the fliers attacking it.

“We can’t hit it like that!” Eastwind grunted.

“Get ready for another pass then!” Firefly growled.

“Wait!” Thunderlane interjected. “I have an idea!”

“Make it quick, kid!”

“Galatine, do you copy?”

“Still afloat, Wolf Two,” came Valor’s reply.

“Coordinate with Storm Warden. I need six rounds of HE a hundred meters ahead of my position on my mark!”

“What are you trying to do?”

“Just trust me! Storm Warden, relay coordinates!”

“Understood.”

Firefly finally realized what Thunderlane was attempting. It was a longshot; like trying to hit a bullet with a bullet while both shooters were in flight. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast!”

“Timberwolves, follow my lead. We need to draw the gunship to the east!” Thunderlane pointed before launching himself forward. “Stand by, Galatine!”

Firefly darted after her wingmate. The snap cracks of machine gun rounds strayed dangerously close before tapering off into eerie silence. Suddenly, Firefly could see her own shadow silhouetted on the clouds ahead of her. A ghostly orange halo crept into the edges of her vision. "Incoming rocket fire! We have to move!"

“Light it up!”

“Galatine One firing!”

The world exploded. Fireballs and black starbursts filled the sky as the roar of the LSOC's guns was swallowed up by the thunder of the Kestrel's rocket barrage. Firefly’s conscious mind shut off as years of training and combat experience kicked into overdrive. Feathers self-trimmed, wings warped, and legs swung wildly as she traced a chaotic path through the blazing hellfire that had become her sky.

Firefly returned to consciousness pointed straight up, her muzzle to the sky and her wings stretched wide. A flick of her tail righted her, giving Firefly a perfect view of the kill box. The gunship burst forth from the clearing smoke. For a split second, Firefly was prepared to dive upon it again. But then she saw the results.

The gunship trailed black smoke. The steady violet glow of the Kestrel’s aetherjet engines was conspicuously absent, its prior speed and agility gone. Its frontal armor was splintered and broken. Cracks spiderwebbed across its canopy, turning it nearly opaque, though it was easy to see dashes of crimson staining the fractured glass from the inside. The Kestrel coasted forward on momentum until finally, a purple gout of flame burst from its starboard side, capsizing it. Pilotless and powerless, the dead ship fell from the sky, disappearing in a roiling violet fireball among the greenery below.

“Good effect on target, Galatine,” came the cool voice of the ARC operator. “Kill confirmed.”

“I think that’s the first air to air kill anypony’s ever made from a Squall ship!” Firefly recognized the voice of Grimm.

“Thank Thunderlane!” Valor laughed. “I just pulled the trigger!”

Firefly looked left as Thunderlane rolled up on her wing. The lieutenant was all smiles. “You know, for a second there, I didn’t think that would work!”

“Well that’s comforting..." Sunburst snarked.

“You did good, kid,” Firefly said, giving a knowing glance to Thunderlane. “Storm Warden, what’s our approach look like?”

“Your corridor is clear, Timberwolf. No enemy activity on your approach.”

“Timberwolf lead, this is Orthros leader." The flight commander's voice crackled over the airwaves. "All bandits eliminated. You’re clear from behind!”

“Understood, Orthros lead. New tasking: locate Galatine Two, secure the crash site, and await C-SAR. Storm Warden, relay to FleetCOM that we’ve reached the objective. Galatine One is proceeding with assault. Dispatch combat search and rescue for Galatine Two.”

“Roger that, Wolf lead.”

Out of the haze rose a massive metal behemoth. Were it not for the prior briefing, Firefly could easily have mistaken it for a building. Gunmetal grey armor plate covered its hull, barely obscuring the bulbous altus reservoirs beneath them. Bright yellow warning lines traced safe paths upon its top deck, marking out scaffolding and catwalks snaking around globular storage tanks. In the center of the deck loomed a massive steel tower. The superstructure bristled with radio antennas and radar masts, their density tapering off as they approached the bridge. Sunlight glinted off the armored glass of the forward windscreens.

“Not to jinx anything, but shouldn’t they have rolled out the welcome wagon by now?” Sunburst radioed.

Firefly’s ear twitched. Sunburst was right. There had been zero activity since they had downed the gunship. By now surely the Talons’ quick reaction forces had been mustered. The gun batteries were unmanned. The ship itself lay quiet with no sound of engines, generators, or machinery to be heard.

“Stay sharp,” Firefly whispered tersely, “AOs aren’t supposed to be this quiet. Something’s not right here.”

The formation made a slow orbit of the superstructure with guns primed and eyes keen. But just as during their approach, there was nothing save the baying of wind and the dull thunder of distant cannon fire. Their sweep complete, the LSOC slowed to a hover behind the bridge. Valor hopped off the gun turret, rifle at the ready, and strode onto the bridge deck.

“Everypony off this ship!” Valor barked his orders. “Stack and prepare to breach!”

“Timberwolves, form up,” Firefly radioed to her own squad. “We’ll maintain combat air patrol around the superstructure. You all know how much I hate surprises.”

The Timberwolves formed up in echelon formation, continuing their slow orbit around the superstructure as the commandos got into position. Firefly continued to monitor the radio for any sign that they might be in trouble.

“Charge in place, sir,” Grimm said.

“Let’s open up this tin can!” the Major replied. “Hit it!”

A loud thud-CRACK split the unearthly silence as the breaching charge buckled the hatch like foil. The first explosion was followed by the crackling of multiple flashbangs. Hooves clanked rapidly on metal as the commandos charged into the bridge. Curiously, the sound of gunfire was absent.

“Clear left!” Grimm shouted.

“Clear right!” Valor replied. “Bridge is clear. Nopony’s home.”

“I’ve seen how this goes,” Thunderlane mused dryly. “Usually this is the part where they tell us there’s a bomb.”

“You shut your horse mouth right now, Thunderlane!” Sunburst growled, clearly in jest, but failing to hide the edge of apprehension on his voice.

“Wolf One, Storm Warden, this is Galatine One.”

“Go ahead, Valor,” Firefly replied.

“My team has just finished their sweep of the bridge. Found a couple civilian crew. They locked themselves in the superstructure mess hall. Mix of griffon and pony, none of them armed. They all look spooked to Tartarus.”

“They should be,” Eastwind said. “They’re in the middle of a warzone, after all.”

Firefly pursed her lips. The feeling still had not left her. She keyed her radio. “Did you get that, Storm Warden?”

“Affirmative. Will relay to FleetCOM.”

“Hey, you!” Grimm’s voice suddenly crackled through the airwaves. “Get back! Get down on the ground! Get down or I’ll shoot!”

“Valor, what the hell is going on down there?”

“Get off me!” The sound of fisticuffs carried clearly through the radio as Grimm tangled with whoever had assaulted her.

“Valor? Grimm? SITREP!”

“THE EYES! THE EYES! THE CRYSTAL EYES! THEY'RE --”

The crewman’s outburst was short. But in it was the voice of pure unadulterated terror. A loud THUNK echoed in the chamber, followed by background murmurs and muffled shouts. Firefly looked to Thunderlane, who only returned a shrug and a nervous shake of the head.

There was a moment of silence before Valor cut in again. “Situation is under control. One of the prisoners rushed Grimm. He’s been taken care of."

“Is your position secure?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ve got the bridge on lock. Storm Warden, relay to FleetCOM: Galatine One has secured the bridge deck.”

“What the hell could get him that spooked?” Thunderlane asked.

“Guess we'll find out when PSYOPS shows up to grill him,” Eastwind replied.

“Gimme a break,” Sunburst snorted. “The second PSYOPS shows up, no one gets to know anything. Let’s hope we just pack these guys up and ship ‘em home.”

Firefly rubbed her forehead and let out an exasperated sigh. Psychological Operations teams showing up meant extraction of possibly actionable intel, but it also meant her squad was on the list to be grilled. The day was getting longer.

“Timberwolf, Galatine, this is Storm Warden," the ARC operator said.

Firefly keyed her radio, “Go."

“SITREP: Galatine Three and Four have secured the Keeper’s ventral decks. Task Force Paladin fleet elements have established perimeter around the Azura Oasis. Talon forces are in full retreat. You are weapons hold until ordered otherwise.”

“About damn time,” Valor muttered.

“I've also got the captain on the line. He wishes to speak with you two.”

“Shit.” Firefly frowned. By the exasperated sigh on the net, it was clear Valor was not pleased either. Brahma was supposed to be running this operation. What was Skywind doing butting in at the last second?

“This is Galatine Actual,” Valor finally said.

“Timberwolf Lead,” Firefly echoed.

“Is the asset secure?” Skywind’s question was spoken slowly and methodically, less a question than a miniature interrogation.

“Yes, sir,” Valor said flatly. “The Titan’s Keeper is under our control.”

“You are to dig in and await further instructions. Do not allow anyone to dislodge you from your position. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Firefly gritted her teeth. It hurt just to listen to him.

“Good.” Skywind seemed not to notice. He continued on very business-like. “You will be reinforced within the hour. I want a full debrief on board ship. Majestic Actual, out."

“Well that was cryptic,” mused Thunderlane.

“Means whatever we found was important,” Firefly replied.

“Did they say who was taking our place?”

“No,” Sunburst cut in. “But I can guess. This’ll have OGA's grubby hooves all over it by nightfall.”

Firefly slowly swept her gaze across the oasis. Columns of dark smoke rose from destroyed fortifications and Talon airship hulks. Equestrian capital ships floated above the verdance as fliers and smaller vessels navigated the spaces between. Despite the signs of victory above, the shadow of the Titan’s Keeper lingered. The abandoned ship, the raving crewman, the weak defenders; they all continued to nag at her.

“Firefly?” Eastwind’s radio call caught her attention.

“Windy.”

“You might want to look at this,” her wingmate pointed.

Firefly followed Eastwind’s hoof. Their orbit had taken them away from the superstructure, bringing into view what lay beneath the ship. Firefly squinted. Ponies and griffons from the other half of Galatine unit milled about below, setting up fortifications and weapon emplacements under the shaded overhang of the ship’s prow. But even in the shadow of the Titan’s Keeper, she could see a wide circle of even deeper shadow just aft of the Alliance position. Within the gaping abyss glinted tiny pinpricks of violet.

“Is that raw aetherium? They must have struck the mother lode with that drilling shaft for us to see it from up here.”

“That’s the thing. Take a look at the dig site. No drills, no supplies, and no machinery.”

Eastwind was right. Overflying Aquellian aetherium mines in Alcea during the war, Firefly had always seen plenty of pump machinery, drilling equipment, and supply pallets at every one. No equipment was present save that which the Alliance brought with them. “Why would the Talons open up an aetherium vein and then leave it?”

Eastwind paused before replying. “That’s a very good question.”

“Something’s not right here,” Firefly growled. “And I don’t like it one bit.”

9. The Abyss

View Online

“How far do you think it is to the bottom?”

“Why don’t you throw something in and find out?” Valor chuckled.

Firefly continued to gaze into the maw that yawned before her. The mineshaft was even more enormous when viewed from the ground, being dwarfed only by the ship that was parked atop it. Tiny points of violet sparkled along the walls, slowly tapering off as they went deeper. Firefly wasn't about to count them all, but even if she did, she knew she'd lose them in the utter darkness below.

“I have a half a mind to throw you in, Valor,” Firefly sneered in mock derision, concealing her discomfort behind snark.

Vertigo was never a problem for Firefly. She was a seasoned combat flier and a war veteran. She’d endured storms on airships, high-G maneuvers during combat, and being hit with enough shrapnel and concussions to break a pony several times over. But looking into that nigh-bottomless pit made her stomach churn. Perhaps it was the ingrained fear of the unknown that plagued all herd animals. Perhaps it was the unearthly silence that seemed to absorb all sound that fell into it. Maybe she was just on post-combat adrenaline jitters. Whatever it was, Firefly was on edge.

“Why?” The stallion laughed, the smoke from his cigarette blowing out his nostrils. “So you don’t have to buy my drinks tonight?”

“If I remember correctly, I held up my end of the bet,” Firefly said matter of factly. “Your boys and girls arrived without so much as a scratch.”

“Ah,” Valor countered, “but I still got to kick griffon ass. I do believe it was my ship that took down the Kestrel?”

“And who set up that shot for you?”

“Thunderlane, of course. Perhaps you should buy him a drink, too!”

“Oh no, I’m not encouraging that boy to follow my hoofsteps. He’ll get himself into trouble and then where would you be?”

The Abyss was like an airship crash. It was unnerving, unsettling, and ultimately terrifying, but once it caught the eye there was no escape from staring. Even while speaking with Valor, Firefly had to resist the urge to turn and gaze into it. She’d never let him know it, but Valor’s silly banter was providing a much-needed distraction.

"How about we call it even then?”

“You mean we buy each other drinks at the Horseshoe when we get back to Crystal Spire? What kind of panzy-ass deal is that?”

“I was trying to be diplomatic.” Valor paused to take a drag on his cigarette. “You really aren't going to buy your pal Valor a drink?"

To be fair to Valor, he was starting to grow on Firefly. His glibness was a refreshing break from inter-squadron politics and what had begun as meatheadedness had quickly sorted itself out to be humor rife with irony. It was something Firefly could accommodate and in addition deal back in spades. This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

“Nope.”

“Harsh.”

“Take it or leave it. ‘Cuz if you don’t I’ll have to kick your ass.”

“Is that all you do?” He snorted, crossing a front leg over the other.

“Mmm," Firefly paused for a moment, suddenly adopting a softer, coyer tone. "It's not all I do, but it’s what I usually advertise.”

To her delight, it was enough to get Valor's attention. The brawny stallion gave her a solid look, raised a single eyebrow, then chuckled lightly as he shook his head. “I’ll hold you to that, Firefly.”

She smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

Suddenly, Valor raised a hoof to his earpiece. Firefly heard the muffled chatter of radio traffic. “Sorry, doll, gotta trot. Need to brief my team for the next op.”

“See you at the bar,” she smirked.

The bit of joy faded when Firefly's earpiece buzzed. “Timberwolf, this is Storm Warden. You're needed at the landing pad.”

Now it was her turn. Firefly sighed and began the trot to the makeshift landing pad. The Titan’s Keeper was now a fortified Alliance position. The guns had been manned by Equestrian Army soldiers and Aquellian Marines and the beginnings of a forward operating base were beginning to take shape in the oasis. Firefly could hear chatter and hoofsteps as combat teams continued to sweep the ship for stowaways and intel. The only place that remained unsecured in Azura was the Abyss itself.

Firefly found her squad waiting for her. They formed up quietly in single file just outside the Maresden matting of the improvised landing pad. In moments, their guest arrived from the blue. The corvette's aetherjet engines flared brightly at the last minute to slow its descent, bringing it to a soft landing on the packed dirt and steel grating of the pad.

“Who do you think it is?” Thunderlane asked.

“OGA,” Sunburst spat. “I can smell the sliminess from here. Can't you?”

The drone of aetherjets tapered off as the ship powered down. Firefly noted the paint scheme and tail numbers, or more precisely, the lack thereof. The ship was entirely unmarked, painted a dull storm grey over its entire hull. This was no standard courier or military vessel. With a loud CLUNK, the main hatch swung open.

“Called it.” Sunburst’s pronouncement rang out as the first pony stepped off the ship.

The pegasus mare wore a Royal Equestrian Army combat uniform, impeccably pressed and improbably clean after having debarked from a combat airship. Her coat was a stark white. Only her fetlocks and haunches were colored -- dusted a light grey with white appaloosa spots. Her wings were the same snowy color, her pinions a darker gunmetal grey.

“Commander Firefly, I presume.” The mare’s voice was light and airy, with a faint hint of a Prench accent. She extended a hoof to shake. Her sharp blue eyes gave Firefly the uncomfortable feeling of being visually dissected.

“To whom does it concern?” Firefly responded flatly and shook her hoof.

“Special Agent Rafale,” the mare said without missing a beat. “I will skip the pleasantries, commander. I am here on the behalf of Princess Luna and I represent her interests in this operation.”

A shiver went down Firefly’s spine. Despite the fact that the oasis’ climate was far warmer than that of the arctic wastes around it, a palpable chill lingered around Rafale, intensifying when she touched Firefly’s hoof. Was she doing this on purpose? Firefly’s muzzle scrunched up for a moment. Rafale failed to notice, or if she did notice, she failed to emote.

“What interests would the Princess of Equestria hold over a standard antipiracy operation?” Eastwind said.

Rafale turned to Eastwind. Firefly observed similar discomfort from her wingmate as Rafale’s gaze settled upon her. Eastwind, however, was less stoic in her presentation.

“Do you mind?”

“The Princess desires to remain informed of happenings in and around her kingdom.” Rafale said, entirely ignoring her question. “Seeing as the Crystal Empire borders upon Equestria, it is in the Princess’ interest to maintain a watchful eye on operations within this territory.”

“So..." Firefly said. “What exactly needs done, Agent Rafale?”

“While my associates are debriefing our -- shall we say -- guests, I require your assistance to inspect the mineshaft.”

“You’re asking combat fliers to go into a rat hole?” Sunburst was incredulous. “Are you nuts?”

“I am asking my winged combat assets to make the descent first and secure the bottom level for my arcanology team.”

Firefly bristled. “Assets? Excuse you.”

“You are the security team for this installation, no?” Rafale's wording bordered on naive, but the stiffness and seeming lifelessness of her delivery dispelled such impressions handily.

“We were told that we would be relieved when your team arrived,” Firefly growled. “And we are soldiers, not playthings. Unless you have express permission from Commander Brahma Kamal or gods forbid Captain Skywind, we don’t take orders from you!”

“I do not require permission, Commander Firefly,” Rafale replied flatly. Her tone suggested that her statement was a matter of uncontestable fact. Notably absent was any sign of being intimidated by Firefly’s outburst. “My mission comes with full discretionary authority from Princess Luna. I do not usually have to pull rank, but I will not hesitate to do so if it becomes necessary. Will it be necessary, Commander?”

Firefly bruxed her teeth. Rafale was suddenly in charge? Horse shit. Was the CAG informed of this? Was Skywind informed of this? For a moment, Firefly contemplated brandishing her weapon until she got answers. The thought was quickly snuffed as someone else exited the airship.

“Atal?”

The chief arcanist’s long, slender, draconic form was instantly recognizable as he ducked through the open front hatch. The dragon gave a quick glance around, first to Firefly, then to Rafale, then to the Abyss and finally back to Firefly. He raised an eyebrow before uttering with deadpan delivery, “Quite the grave we’ve dug for ourselves, huh, Firefly?”

Firefly breathed a sigh of relief, chuckling inside at the groan-worthy joke. With renewed vigor, Firefly kept her weapon stowed and met eyes with Rafale. “Let me be blunt, Agent Rafale. I don’t trust you, but I do trust Lieutenant al-Adria. Let’s hope you don’t squander his good faith. What is your mission and what do we have to do to accomplish it?”

“Merci, commander.” Rafale continued as though no interruption had taken place. “Prepare your squad and be ready at the edge of the mine shaft in ten minutes. I will brief you on the way in. Au revoir. Lieutenant al-Adria, if you would, please.”

“We will speak later, Firefly,” Atal said with a quick nod before ducking behind the corvette’s forward engine and disappearing into the back hatch. Rafale nodded her goodbye and followed suit, disappearing within the hull of her ship. The squad remained frozen for a moment. Finally, sure that Rafale was out of earshot, Sunburst spoke.

“Celestia's tits,” he cursed. "That was one cold bitch."

“You don’t say no to the Princess," Firefly sighed. "Let's get this over with."

Staggered wingbeats rang hollow in Firefly’s ears. Each flap reverberated in the shaft, slowly tapering off as they were lost in the Abyss below. Firefly could easily stand altitude. No matter how high up she went, she always knew the ground was somewhere beneath. But no one knew how deep the Abyss actually was. Surely it had a bottom; after all, it was bored out by the Keeper’s drilling rig and even a ship that size had limits. Looking down, however, it would be easy to think it bottomless. Firefly reviewed Rafale’s briefing in her head to keep her mind from wandering.

“Timberwolf flight and the griffons of Galatine unit will form the vanguard. You are tasked with scouting the borehole and securing the lowest level of the mine before we deploy Major Valorous Deed’s ground-bound forces. Neutralize any hostile forces you encounter, but do not pursue into the mine until we have established a proper airhead.”

Firefly’s muzzle scrunched at the fluctuations in temperature and humidity as they continued to descend. The first hundred meters were damp but cool, contrasting with the nearly tropical climate on the surface of the Oasis. After that, the temperature began to climb again, and with it the humidity. If she looked closely, Firefly could see wisps of steam sublimating from the soil and rock in the walls of the borehole.

“We will commence exploration of the tunnels after we have fortified the base of our operations.”

The borehole itself was wide enough for the team of eight ponies and griffons to comfortably descend without touching wingtips. They remained in a circle, slowly orbiting the central shaft that ran all the way from the Keeper’s drilling rig to what Firefly presumed was the bottom of the Abyss. The long metal rod was jointed, hinting that it had been assembled in segments, and had teeth cut into its outer surface, which Firefly assumed were used to direct machinery up and down the rod.

Down, down, down the flight team continued. Light from the borehole entrance rapidly dwindled until the other fliers were scarcely shadows floating beside her. All around her, cones of light snapped into existence as the team switched their tactical lights on. The milky circle of her flashlight highlighted layer upon layer of rock and dirt, generously interspersed with tiny glittering violet crystals.

“Crystal density is increasing. We are nearing the vein.”

Were it not for her sudden interjection, Firefly would have forgotten that Rafale had chosen to drop in with them. Despite her cold entrance, Firefly grudgingly gave respect for her willingness get her hooves dirty. Rafale carried the same gear as the other fliers and showed no lack of confidence field-stripping and preparing her repeater prior to their descent. Her callsign -- Maven -- would have been pretentious had she not already shown herself capable.

“How deep do these things usually go?” Thunderlane pondered out loud.

“For an ordinary vein, two or three thousand meters is not uncommon,” Rafale said. “It appears this vein was quite shallow, as we are barely a fraction of that distance below the surface.”

“I wasn’t expecting numbers off the top of your head. You study this in school?”

“I merely read the intel documents I am issued, lieutenant,” Rafale answered flatly. “If it is relevant to the mission, I make it my business to know it.”

“Still don’t get why investigating an abandoned mine requires a REIN operative, an arcanology team, and an armed escort.”

“Like she’s going to tell you, kid,” Sunburst muttered.

“It is a matter of precaution, Lieutenant Thunderlane.”

“Something you’re not telling us, Special Agent?”

“I have told you what is relevant. If additional information becomes relevant, I will be sure to inform you.”

“She’s a regular walking surprise party,” Eastwind chuckled.

Firefly scowled. “I hate surprises.”

“Hey did you see that?” Thunderlane suddenly said.

Firefly adjusted her tactical light, pointing it downward where Thunderlane also had his pointed. In the combined circles of light glinted something metallic. A few more wingbeats and Firefly could pick out a pattern of circular cutouts in a metal surface. They had arrived. The group slowed their descent, circles of illumination sweeping the walls and the surface below as they approached.

“Never thought I’d be so glad to get my hooves back on the ground,” Sunburst said as he touched down.

“Looks like Maresden matting,” Thunderlane mused, tapping on the metal grating with a hoof. “Just like the landing pad on the surface!”

“Guns out, stay sharp!” Firefly barked her orders. “I’m not dying in this hellhole to a damn pirate who thinks he’s being sneaky!”

Every tactical light snapped outward, illuminating the entire inner surface of the borehole walls. The circle of soldiers rotated slowly clockwise, hooves and claws clanking on damp metal, repeaters sweeping the entire borehole until they had completed a full rotation. The final step echoed into the Abyss.

“There’s... nothing here,” Grimmclaw said quizzically, the first words she had uttered since she’d begun the descent.

Firefly quickly looked around. Though there was little more than Maresden matting and the anchor jacks for the utility shaft at the bottom of the borehole, Firefly seethed uncomfortably in her uniform. The borehole smelled of wet earth mixed with the sickly sweetness of machine grease. It was noticeably hotter at the base of the borehole than it was on the surface and an oppressive miasma of humidity smothered the entire area in damp heat and sweat that refused to evaporate.

“Clear,” Firefly said. “Timberwolves, weapons tight. Keep an eye out, but don’t go around shooting up anything that moves.”

“Galatine One and Maven team,” Rafale cut in. “This is Maven Actual. The base of the borehole is secure. You are cleared to descend.”

“Understood, Maven. Galatine, out.”

A metallic groan echoed down the shaft like the wakening throes of some eldritch beast. The faint light of the borehole entrance flickered briefly in sync with a low rumbling that grew in intensity as it approached. Thunderous rumbling sharpened into agitated chattering, agitated chattering into grinding and groaning as the elevator finally rattled to a stop at the base of the shaft.

When she saw it, Firefly was glad she had flown down. “Elevator” was a bit of a misnomer. It was less an elevator and more a metal grate platform with drive motors in the center that engaged the teeth on the utility shaft surface. There were no guard rails, no doors, no covered roof, and no discernable safety features save for a few rings for harnesses on the motor frames.

Like the assault on the Keeper’s bridge, Valor was the first off the elevator, though his demeanor had changed considerably. Valor looked noticeably nonplussed -- even ill -- as he stumbled at last onto solid ground. Firefly caught his eye and raised an eyebrow in wordless inquiry. Valor merely shook his head and waved his commandos off the lift. With the wall of soldiers out of the way, Atal and his team finally stepped off the lift platform, his incorrigible tranquility starkly contrasting with the dis-ease that seemed to permeate the borehole.

“You all right there?” Firefly finally said.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Valor huffed. He turned to Grimm. “What have we got?”

“The Maresden matting is fresh,” she said, “and there only appears to be one gallery excavated. It looks like they abandoned it shortly after they got started.”

“So the team landed here and then immediately packed up to leave? That doesn’t make any sense,” Valor tapped his chin, then adjusted his light, allowing it to settle on something that glinted faintly.

Firefly followed his light. Her eyes came to rest upon a mass of metal that could easily have been mistaken for a wall. Moving her light over its surface, she found its edges, noting the massive cutouts along its sides. It’s a gear! Indeed, the object was what appeared to be a giant gear, nearly half the diameter of the borehole proper in height. Seams ran along its surface in strange right-angle patterns and a conspicuous bulge in the center of the gear's disc held a drive motor not unlike those which drove the elevator up and down the utility shaft.

“What am I looking at?” Valor's question echoed Firefly's thoughts.

“It’s an Aquellian blast-lock cover,” Grimm replied matter-of-factly.

Valor scratched his head with a hoof. “I’m not exactly an expert on griffon mining techniques, so...”

“My father was an aetherium miner and I used to work on a mining crew before I enlisted.” Firefly suppressed a chuckle. Grimm seemed to thoroughly enjoy dispensing her accrued knowledge. “We used blast-lock covers to seal off unsafe mine areas until they could be reinforced by proper equipment.”

“So there was a collapse here? Some sort of accident?”

“Usually that’s the case. I don't see any evidence of blasting or fire, though.”

"What about magic?" Rafale cut in.

Grimm shrugged. "Raw aetherium does sometimes attract magically-inclined beasts, but if there's ever an accident it usually behaves more like a coal mine explosion than chaos magic gone haywire."

Rafale's eyes narrowed. “Lieutenant al-Adria, I want to know what’s behind that door.”

The sorcerer-dragon’s eyes glowed briefly as he peered into the aether. “There are faint magical signatures that I cannot identify without the proper scrying procedures. They appear to be dispersed across a wide area beyond the door."

“What if it’s just interference?” Eastwind said. “We are in the middle of an aetherium vein in a geologically active site.”

Rafale did not appear convinced. “We’re going in.”

“Uh, not to rain on your picnic, but there's probably a good reason they sealed that entrance.”

“Your objection has been noted, lieutenant Thunderlane. I shall include it in my report. Open the door, Major.”

Everyone looked to Valor. The Major was clearly conflicted; Firefly could see it in his eyes. Surely ever combat instinct told him to leave sealed doors lie, but orders were still orders. After an uncomfortable pause, Valor finally looked to his demolition griffon and grudgingly nodded. “Can you get this open, Grimm?”

“I think so,” she said, walking over to the control panel. “It’s a fail-secure lock. I’ll need to run a bypass on the lock wiring or it will weld itself shut with thermite.”

“What’s keeping us from blowing the door down with demo charges or a ballistic lance?” Sunburst asked.

“This is a geothermal oasis.” Grimm huffed as if Sunburst had just asked the stupidest possible question in the world. “You set off uncontrolled explosives in an unreinforced passage and you could bring the whole damn mine down. Trust me, you don’t want to blow that door.”

“She’s the expert, abuelo,” Thunderlane whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Sunburst. The older stallion gritted his teeth and mumbled some unintelligible curse under his breath. As Grimm went to work, Thunderlane turned to Firefly. “What do you think is on the other side, jefa?”

Firefly’s eyes remained fixed upon the door. She had no idea what to expect on the other side. Quarry eel? Hydra? Manticore? Hopefully a simple aetherium mine and nothing more? “I have no idea, kid. But whatever it is can’t be good.”

“Aha!” Grimm squawked happily. “Easy peasy. That was a piss-poor lockup if I’ve ever seen one!”

“Galatine,” Valor barked his orders, “I want all guns pointed down that passage. Grimm, open the door.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grimm threw the switch closed in a shower of electric purple sparks. A high-pitched whine filled Firefly’s ears as the circuit’s closure energized the motor, followed by a terrific groaning as the door’s mechanism ground to life. The outer ring of gear teeth lurched forward, its clattering advance along the toothed rack echoing violently through the borehole. Finally, the blast cover clanged against the rack stops, grinding to a halt.

Flashlight beams pierced the darkness ahead, revealing a gallery as large in diameter as the blast cover itself. The walls of the gallery appeared to be carved from a single massive crystal of amethyst. Marbling of all shades of violet streamed through the mineralized walls, shimmering in the artificial illumination cast by the troop’s flashlights. Small pinpoints of crystalline iridescence glinted through the translucent aetherium walls.

“This is making less sense as we go along,” Grimm mused. “The vein is perfect and they barely touched it.”

Hoof falls rang hollow as they continued deeper into the gallery. All this time Rafale had remained silent. Firefly continued to steal glances at her as they trotted along, but the mare was damnably difficult to read. In spite of the heat, the humidity, and the oppressive claustrophobia of being below ground, Rafale had maintained the same stony-faced, ice-cold disposition that she had established on the landing pad.

Suddenly, Thunderlane stopped and sniffed at the air. “What’s that smell?”

Firefly took a quick wiff of it herself. An bitter chemical odor lingered in the air that stung the nostrils and evoked the atmosphere of working on an airship drydock or repair shop; or the Majestic’s main hangar immediately after combat action. Firefly quickly held up her hoof in the “stop” motion.

“It’s half burned LACE fuel. Everypony stop! Masks on!”

Part of their descent gear included respirators in the event that they entered gas pockets or other hazardous areas. There was a mass shuffle of uniforms, hooves, claws, and canvas as ponies and griffons donned their respirators. Firefly could hear grumbling throughout. It appeared that she wasn’t the only one to resent respirators.

“I hate this shit,” Sunburst mumbled through his mask. “It’s like trying to breathe through a soda straw while looking through it at the same time.”

“Forget to take your breathing meds this morning, old sire?” Eastwind cracked.

“Hey now!” Sunburst very nearly burst out laughing at his own retort. “Just because you’re good at sucking tiny things doesn’t mean the rest of us are!”

A collective “ooohhhhh” went up throughout the troop before dissolving into smatterings of laughter. Firefly cracked a smile and shook her head. The sheer look of shock that crossed Eastwind’s face was priceless. It only took a moment, however, before she was laughing as well.

“I’ll admit,” she said through a fit of giggles, “I didn’t expect a comeback.”

“Opportunity knocked,” Sunburst said smugly, “and I answered!”

“There is something at the end of the tunnel.” Rafale’s monotone pronouncement silenced the entire troop.

All tactical lights focused on what Rafale had fixed her flashlight upon. Firefly squinted into the harsh light, gradually resolving the strange shape to be a boxy, open-topped machine with a massive drilling apparatus at its nose. Even through the filtered air of the respirator, she could sense a sharpness to the smell of engine exhaust. If it was even creeping through the filters, it would surely have been lethal to exposed lungs.

“Luna’s ass,” Sunburst spat, “I can smell the exhaust through my mask! It’s really thick back here. They must have left this thing running when they bailed.”

“Sweep this area,” Rafale ordered. “Galatine and Timberwolf, check the machine for any stowaways. Maven team, I want a full intelligence workup.”

With the chorus of affirmatives from all teams, Firefly gingerly trotted forward. The tracks on the gallery floor were multifarious, being composed of both hooves and talons. The mining crew was multi-racial. Closer inspection of the drilling rig confirmed it, as shed feathers and unattended saddlebags rested in tool cubbies on the machine’s chassis. Perhaps there was a fight? Or an accident?

There was no sign of struggle, however. No blood, no shell casings, no weapons, and certainly no dead bodies. Despite the lack of obvious threat, Firefly’s danger sense and curiosity were both piqued. Something was not right here.

“Shit!”

Eastwind’s exclamation immediately drew Firefly’s attention. “What is it?”

It took Eastwind a moment to collect herself and when she did, her voice was uncharacteristically shaky. “Look..."

Firefly followed Eastwind’s hoof with her own flashlight beam. Atop the drilling rig directly in front of the control cabin two crystalline orbs glinted in the dim light. As the beam settled on them, Firefly puzzled over what had caused her wingmate’s fright. Cold claws of dread gripped her gut as realization dawned upon her.

THE EYES. THE EYES. THE CRYSTAL EYES.

The words that the crew screamed echoed in her head. Firefly inched closer. In the cold circle of white, she saw it. Orbs became eyes. Eyes were set deep in an ashen white skull. Skull and jaw were locked in rigor mortis, suspended in violet crystal. Suddenly, from above, a tiny pebble of purple glass clattered onto the metal of the control cab, coming to rest next to the pony skull. Firefly looked straight up, tracing its path up to the ceiling of the gallery.

“Oh my gods,” she whispered, her eyes locked upon the sight.

A constellation of crystalline orbs gleamed in the flashlight beam. Firefly traced her light along the ceiling, revealing only more orbs. They were countless, stretching along every surface in the gallery. Everywhere she looked orbs upon orbs upon orbs shone in the darkness.

Each pair of orbs became eyes. Each pair of eyes were set deep in an ashen white skull. Skulls and jaws were locked in rigor mortis, suspended by an ocean of transparent purple glass. Firefly’s eyes widened in shock. Gasps and cries of surprise and fright rose all around her as each sweep of a flashlight beam uncovered horror upon horror.

“This isn't a mine, this is a mass grave!”

10. Unearthed

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Firefly spat, and spat, and spat again. No matter her depth or quantity of expectoration, the acrid flavor of spent fuel lingered in her mouth. The stench was everywhere. Her mane felt gritty and sooty and her coat surely reeked of exhaust as well. At the very least, however, the mask was off. Humidity and heat only compounded the obstruction presented by the respirator’s filters. Having the blasted mask around her neck was far less aggravating than having it on her face. Finally free from the constraints of her filtered muzzle and the hellish heat of the Abyss, Firefly took a deep breath of the fresh surface air.

They had not even been below for very long, but the working conditions dictated fast rotations and quick work. More accurate sensors from the arcanology team had pegged the gas concentration even higher than they’d originally thought. Firefly wasn’t one to delve into numbers and formulae, but she knew enough to understand that breathing down there for too long meant certain death.

“Craziest thing I’ve ever seen and we’re sworn to secrecy,” Thunderlane muttered.

“Get used to it,” Sunburst snorted. “Once OGA gets their hooves in it, it’s buried and done. And if we spill, so are we.”

“Yeah well feel sorry for the poor bastards that are gonna be digging out the bodies,” Firefly said.

With not a Talon to be found, Firefly’s detail had been reassigned from guard duty to manual labor. Firefly was no stranger to getting her hooves dirty and any time spent not getting shot at was nearly as good as time off, but laying pipe and wiring fans and generators was not the R&R Firefly was planning on getting that day. The last several hours had been spent going in and out of the mine with loads of equipment and marching it in to assemble it by hoof in the absence of working machinery.

“Less bodies than fossils,” Eastwind corrected her. Despite her earlier apprehension, Eastwind seemed to have regained her usual demeanor. “These guys have been dead for longer than Luna’s been in power.”

Maybe thinking of them like old sea dragon bones and bits of petrified wood took the edge off? Firefly mused to herself. The chatter between arcanists had been of much the same tone. Scientific jargon was itself dry and uninteresting to Firefly, but their treatment of the excavation made it even more so. A mass killing was suddenly nothing more than another Tuesday at the lab.

“I’m no geologist, but don’t fossils normally take longer than that to form?”

“Well yeah by natural processes. When magic gets involved you get all sorts of weird timelines.”

“Still a shallow grave,” Firefly sighed. “Did they even start to get a count of how many were in there?”

“More than a hundred,” said Eastwind. “Less than a thousand.”

“So it was a massacre..." Thunderlane trailed off.

The four finally arrived at the pile of crates and equipment cases that served as a makeshift break room. Each flier took a seat, resting their tired and dirty hooves. The clink of canteens interrupted discussion until each flier had thoroughly drank their fill.

“Not much else it could be.” Firefly frowned. Upending her canteen revealed that it was empty. She made a mental note to pull refills from the ARC ship when they returned to CAP duty.

“So someone froze them all and left them in the Outer Rim?”

“Uh, hate to burst your bubble, but that purple glassy shit isn’t spell residue,” Sunburst cut in. “That’s liquified Crystal Pony.”

Thunderlane made an exaggerated face of disgust. “Gross.”

“The survey equipment from the Titan’s Keeper must have registered it as an aetherium vein,” Eastwind went on.

“Great,” Thunderlane grumbled. “Now I can’t get it out of my head that we’re running our ships on ground up Crystal Pony...”

“You’re welcome!” Sunburst nickered.

“As entertaining as that would be, it is impossible to confuse the two for anyone with a minor education in geology.” Atal chimed in from behind. “Geologically they have very different signatures. I suspect the drilling team investigated just as much in raw curiosity as they did the desire to locate a proper crude fuel source.”

As lead arcanist in the team, Atal was first off the elevator, leaving the rest of his subordinates to conduct the first round of unloading. The sorcerer-dragon was just as dirty and sooty as the rest of them, the ornate magical patterns that criss-crossed his scales uncharacteristically dull in the wake of dirt, exhaust, and hard labor. It was bad enough in her coat and mane; Firefly could only imagine the discomfort for a creature who could not so readily shed his coverings. With a friendly wave, he joined their circle, finding a seat next to Eastwind, directly across from Firefly.

“With the way Rafale was going on I thought they were never going to let you out of that hole, Atal.” Thunderlane nickered. “What kind of voodoo we got going on down there anyway?

“Even dragons need breaks,” Atal replied, his demeanor unfazed by dirt, grime, and danger, “not to mention the fact that we still have to finish venting the area of fumes. The last thing they need is a dead dragon on their hooves.”

“Go figure. How long are they gonna keep you?”

Atal clipped the respirator to the belt of his combat harness, exchanging it for a canteen. He took a deep, thirsty gulp before finally responding. “It’s difficult to tell. A full excavation of the entire site may take weeks.”

“Ouch.” Thunderlane grimaced.

Atal shrugged. “To be fair I won’t be on the ground for however many weeks it will be. They will likely be shipping it back to my lab at Topaz or in the interim the mobile lab on board the Majestic.”

“So while we’re getting shot at and freezing our asses off you get to sit in your cozy lab and go through magic fossils?” Sunburst said. Firefly shot him a dirty look, to which he replied only with a shrug of feigned innocence. Atal shook his head in dismissal.

“Were it so easy.” Atal sighed before taking another swig of his canteen.

Firefly’s ear twitched. A shade of dark seemed to have crossed Atal’s otherwise serene disposition. There was more, she was certain of it. “You don’t quite seem yourself, Atal. Everything all right?”

Atal looked past Firefly for a moment, staring into space for a moment before finally responding. “As a scientist, I try not to allow hunches and gut feelings to get in the way of proper analyses. But I’m going to be honest with you as a friend.”

The dragon leaned in as he spoke, as if letting them in on some great secret. “Something isn’t right about this place. I can feel it. I am sure you can as well.”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s not one single thing,” Atal continued. “All the little things we dug up point to some uncomfortable conclusions.”

“The fact that this is a mass grave?”

“Not just a mass burial. Every single Crystal Pony here that we’ve dug up was killed in exactly the same way.”

“You mean to tell me this was a mass execution?”

“I have my suspicions. We found piled up armor and broken weapons near the edge of the substrate and the physique of these Crystal Ponies suggested they were all military.”

“What do you do when a captured unit is uncooperative?” Sunburst asked grimly.

“Lock them up?” Thunderlane’s attempt to lighten the circumstances fell flat as Firefly responded.

“Make an example of them.” Firefly growled. “Of course that begs the question..."

“Who were they fighting?” Eastwind finished.

“That’s the strange part,” Atal said, stroking his chin. “I can aetherically date these to about a thousand years ago. Lab tests will have to be done to give more precise numbers of course, but I am fairly confident of that date range given the level of preservation of the remains and the condition of the crystalline substrate. Of all the archives I’ve read on Crystal Empire history, there was no recorded conflict of such magnitude that Imperial soldiers would need to be deployed.”

“Sounds like a library trip might be in order...”

“That was the plan,” Atal nodded. “I have leads, but I am not certain enough of them to say much more until I have conducted further research.”

“What about Rafale? She has to know more than she’s letting on. Every question she asks is loaded. She has to know what’s really down there.”

“What’s to say she wasn’t looking for the fossils?”

“She didn’t bat an eye when we’d found them and she ordered further excavation instead of cleaning out what the drill had opened up. She’s looking for something else.”

“I cannot say anything. Rafale has not been entirely cooperative with my team, either. All we know is that we are to catalogue the fossils we find until we receive further orders.”

“Bitch,” Sunburst muttered.

Thunderlane had a million questions to ask, Firefly could see it on his face. But if the chief scientist was just as confused as they were, she wasn’t sure there was much more they could figure out on their own. What she did know was that everything went back to Rafale. The entire operation was just going to be one frustrating mess until she left.

“Hey, Atal!” All heads turned to the Abyss as a lone earth pony shouted over to Atal. “They need you back in the Abyss pronto! The techs found something!”

“Duty calls,” Atal said as he rose. He nodded quickly to Firefly. “Enjoy the rest of your break.”

“We’ll have to talk later,” she said. “I’m no egghead, but this is a welcome change from picking flak out of my haunch.”

“Commander Firefly.”

Firefly’s coat stood on end at the familiar voice. How had she snuck up on them like that? Firefly heard everypony coming thanks to senses honed by years of combat experience, but somehow, Rafale had managed to bypass all of it. Thankfully, Eastwind had a much cheerier greeting than Firefly was initially planning.

“Agent Rafale,” Eastwind declared with mock pomp. “Come to send us back into the Abyss already? We weren’t due to come off break for another thirty minutes!”

Rafale’s deadpan delivery could have been taken as comedy in any other context. “I am not so callous as to short change you for the sake of a few more fossils dug up this hour.”

“She’s a laugh a minute,” Sunburst said out of the corner of his mouth.

“So what brings you to our little corner of the break room?” Eastwind continued.

The “corner” was less a corner than one hastily organized cluster of crates out of many, all of which had been repurposed as gathering places for details on break during the excavation of the Abyss. Rafale’s arrival was puzzling to Firefly, as while they were near the Abyss, they were neither the most obvious nor the loudest. Rafale clearly had a purpose.

“I was merely inquiring as to the status of my teams.”

“Hon,” Firefly scoffed, “for a REIN operative, you’re a terrible liar. Why are you really here?”

Firefly’s words hung in the air like frosted breath in arctic chill. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thunderlane’s jaw drop. Sunburst bit his lip. Eastwind shook her head. Firefly noted their reactions, but never broke eye contact with Rafale. She was no Skywind. She held no power over her in administrative or personal influence.

Rafale paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Firefly struggled to read her, pick out chinks in her operative mask, anything that would make her more pony than machine. But whatever flicker of empathy Firefly thought she saw was gone when Rafale spoke again. “Then I will make no further pretense. Commander, I must have a word with you.”

“How much trouble am I in?” Firefly snorted.

If Rafale was bothered by the snark, she didn’t show it. She wordlessly turned on her hoof and trotted away, pausing only when she had traveled out of earshot. She turned back to Firefly, fixing her uncomfortable gaze upon her. Firefly sighed and shook her head. To her teammates she gave a quick glance of acknowledgement before joining Rafale.

“That much, huh?”

Rafale ignored her question, instead proceeding directly into her own questions. “You have served with Sunburst and Eastwind since the end of the war, no?”

“Rude much?” Firefly growled. “Don’t ask me questions you already know the answer to. You’re the one who read my file; you and everypony else with brass bars, leaves, and birds. What’s the matter? You think I’m a troublemaker? Bad example for the troops? Loose cannon? If you do, save your breath. I’ve heard it all.”

“Answer the question, si vous plait.”

“Celestia’s tits, Rafale, the least you could do is not treat me like a damn foal!”

“A simple yes would suffice.”

Firefly grumbled unintelligible curses as she brought her hoof to her forehead. Rafale was impenetrable. Through gritted teeth Firefly grumbled a response, “Yes.”

“And this Lieutenant Junior Grade Thunderlane, he was assigned to you about six weeks ago?”

Firefly paused. Why was she asking about Thunderlane if this was supposed to be about her own history? Firefly’s response was guarded, purposely casual and appropriately vague. “The kid? Yeah, he’s our rookie, though that’s changing pretty quick. Made ace two weeks in and isn’t showing signs of stopping.”

“Care to explain why prior to your deployment with Task Force Paladin you had no fourth flight member?”

Firefly rolled her eyes. This again? “We’re allowed to personally vet our new trainees and evaluate both their skill and their team chemistry. If they don’t pass muster, we send ‘em packing. Needless to say, no one passed muster.”

“Curious. Your previous record suggests integration was not an issue.”

“My previous record was during wartime. I didn’t have a choice then. Now I do and I have high standards.”

“Noted,” Rafale said. Her eyes flicked upward for a moment as if she were reading from some invisible script. “Your combat record is extraordinary. Multiple stars of all shades. Legion of Merit. Purple Heart with multiple stars. And of course the piece de resistance, the Sovereign Order of Celestia Invictus.”

The color drained from Firefly’s face. Why did she have to mention it? Why was everyone mentioning it? Why did it keep coming up? Firefly kept a stiff upper lip, but she could not mask the subtle quaver that began to creep into her voice.

“Medals mean nothing,” she rasped. “I just made sure I got out alive. Nothing more, nothing less.”

In spite of Firefly’s best efforts, Rafale saw her opening and pressed harder. “I find it extremely curious that you hold the highest award for bravery in the Equestrian military and yet nopony you are deployed with seems to know about it.”

“What’s it to you?” Firefly snarled back.

“It is nothing to me, personally.” Again, Rafale’s response was like a wall of ice. Firefly’s outrage burned mightily but ultimately fizzled against her unflappable defenses. “It is, however, relevant in making accurate assessments of character.”

Firefly bruxed her teeth. Rafale was firmly in control of the conversation and there was nothing she could do. Rage would do nothing, nor would violence. Finally Firefly took a deep breath and spoke. “Stop wasting my time, Rafale. If you’re going to say something to me spit it out.”

“Do you trust me, Commander Firefly?” Rafale’s inflection changed ever so slightly, the faintest hint of warmth creeping into an otherwise frigid disposition. Simultaneously, the perpetual physical chill that surrounded her seemed to lift.

Firefly’s reply was wary and completely incapable of concealing her surprise at the sudden change in tone. “Strange words coming from somepony with a home agency built on lying.”

“You may not trust my agency, Firefly, but that says nothing of the pony standing before you.” Rafale’s personal defenses remained up, but the chill in the air had yet to return. “I ask again. Do you trust me?”

Rafale’s response was confusing. Why would anyone from REIN ask if Firefly, of all ponies, could trust them? No one trusted REIN. No one. Most anyone who wasn’t in the shit would trust Firefly, either, but for different reasons entirely. Logic clearly made her question moot.

But body language said otherwise. Rafale had purposely opened up a vulnerability and subjected herself to criticism. Her flippant dismissal of the usual intelligence operative deflections and the fact that the frigid hell that followed in her wake had retreated clearly spoke the opposite.

There was a long pause as Firefly scrutinized Rafale’s face. Her deadpan expression remained. The same smileless mouth. The same unflinching muzzle. The same icy eyes that drilled into Firefly’s skull and dissected her bit by bit. But somewhere in those eyes was a faint flicker of something that wasn’t all deception and dismissal.

“No, I don’t trust you.” Firefly finally said. “I don’t trust you to talk to my team when we’re on R&R. I don’t trust you not to shaft us in front of Skywind.”

“Then I shall turn my attentions elsew--”

“I’m not done.” The outrage had subsided, leaving only a terse murmur as Firefly continued. “I saw that you weren’t afraid to get in the shit with the rest of us. I saw you lead your team in by example and not ordering them to what could potentially have been their deaths while you stayed idly behind. I may not trust you with friendship, but I trust you as a soldier.”

“Merci, commander,” Rafale said, seeming to barely acknowledge her response. “This has been most enlightening.”

Firefly sighed. Was that it? Yet another waste of her time, effort, and friendship. “Can I get back to my break now?”

“Oui.”

Without waiting for proper dismissal, Firefly spun on her hooves and began to trot back. She stopped only when Rafale cleared her throat close behind. “Can I help you?”

Rafale stepped close, closer than Firefly was comfortable with, close enough to whisper in her ear directly. “I can say this and only this. There is more going on than you can see right now. You may not understand it, Firefly, but I trust you to do the right thing when the time comes.”

“Listen here and listen good!” Instantly, Firefly hooked one leg around Rafale’s front right leg, pulling her in. She jammed her free hoof squarely into Rafale’s ribs and looked her dead in the eye. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Rafale, and I don’t know why you’re including me in it, and I don’t care. Do what you want with me. I already know I’m nothing to your kind.”

A fire burned in Firefly’s eyes and a beastial rumble lofted the words from her throat. “But if you hurt my team -- my friends -- I swear...”

Each word was punctuated with increased pressure to Rafale’s ribcage. “I. Will. END. you.”

A faint flush of color peppered Rafale’s cheeks, surely a twinge of embarrassment at being caught entirely off guard. But just as suddenly as it set in, it vanished, leaving the familiar stony face of the unflappable REIN agent. “Noted. Enjoy your break, commander.”

Frustrated, Firefly let her go with a guttural snarl. There were far more questions than answers now and it seemed that it would only get worse from here. Firefly continued to grumble unintelligible curses under her breath as she trotted back to her seat.

“Yo, jefa!” Thunderlane called out, trotting up to meet her. “What was that all about?”

“Usual OGA shit, kid,” Firefly grunted. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure about that? You looked like you were about to beat the shit out of her!”

“I was.”

Thunderlane appeared taken aback, just as much from Firefly’s words as by her completely deadpan expression while delivering them. He cocked his head to the side for a moment, confused, before finally uttering, “Harsh.”

Sunburst remained on his crate, but Eastwind immediately stood upon Firefly’s arrival. She looked Firefly up and down, a scowl crossing her as she stepped up to her wingmate. Firefly flinched as Eastwind’s tender hoof came to rest on her shoulder.

“You know that thing you do where you worry me?” Eastwind said, her snark mixing with genuine concern. “You’re doing it again!”

“Now is not the -- ”

The sudden blare of the elevator klaxon drew all eyes to the entrance of the Abyss. Grinding gears echoed from the belly of the earth, finally crunching to a halt as the lift platform topped out. A pair of earth ponies hastily dropped the gang plank with a loud CLANG. There were no flames, no smoke, and no sound of explosions or other disastrous events, but with the sheer alacrity with which the crew acted, it would have been difficult to tell there wasn’t.

“Wait.” Firefly squinted at the elevator. “That’s Atal’s team..."

Sure enough, the sorcerer-dragon and his gaggle of ponies and griffons filed off the lift platform. Their arrival was just as hasty as Atal’s prior departure; indeed no one had bothered removing their respirator before working to drag the large and conspicuous crates off the lift. With hardly a word, the arcanology team split off into pairs and began dragging the crates off the lift. Though they rapidly disappeared behind the bulk of the Keeper it was apparent that they were heading toward the landing pads.

“Well those guys are certainly in a hurry..." Thunderlane mused.

“Commander Firefly!”

“Rafale?” Firefly was now more puzzled than annoyed. Something had changed in the intervening time; something big. “What the hell is going on?”

“Come with me.”

“This appears to be the safest route back to Topaz.” Roshina pointed a claw at the blue pencil marking she had just drawn.

“A travel time of four days is unacceptable.” Rafale shook her head immediately. “Find us a faster route.”

The last hour had been a blur. One moment Firefly had been picking soot out of her teeth and the next she was aboard a corvette arguing with Roshina and Rafale over map coordinates. The ARC ships of Timberwolf, Manticore, and Hydra were already airborne, hovering two thousand meters above the oasis on full combat alert. Firefly could see them floating nearby out the portholes of Rafale’s corvette. Rafale revealed few details about their mission, but from what Firefly was able to gather, there was cargo that needed to be taken back to Topaz ASAP and no one could agree as to how to get it there.

“You want fast?” Firefly traced her hoof over the map, outlining another route to the north. “We head north until we hit Nopony's Land. Then we head east, hugging the mountains until we clear this entire range. After that we book it straight back to Topaz.”

“Yes it is fast,” Roshina said. “But also dangerous. This route skirts the zone between the battlegroups. We’ve already received reports of skirmishes breaking out between Paladin CAPs and Talon scouts looking for an exposed flank. I’d rather not attract attention if we can avoid it.”

Firefly’s eyes darted over the map once again. The Titan’s Keeper was marked near the center of the southwest quadrant of the map. To their northwest and northeast were wooden chips respectively emblazoned with the emblems of the Majestic and the Ward of the Empyrean, indicating the relative positions of the fleets that had moved on after the seizure of Azura. Their options were twofold: take Roshina’s southwest route, which would keep them safely in Alliance territory, or skirt the battle zone in the interest of shaving off travel time. Neither seemed to please Rafale.

Rafale scrutinized the map, taking in Firefly’s suggestion before shaking her head again. “I do not have capital ships available to escort us. Going through Nopony's Land is not an option.”

“Then we are at an impasse,” Roshina said. “We could attempt stratospheric overland flight due east, but that would advertise our presence to every Talon radar in the region. We’re fast, but not fast enough to outrun artillery and missiles.”

Stratospheric overland flight, or “going strato” in flier parlance, was the perennial third option. Over long distances, going strato in an airship was very fast and efficient, but felled by one fatal flaw. Stratospheric flight meant zero radar masking, meaning any ship traveling overland had nowhere to hide. If they went strato, they’d have every radar aimed gun and missile trained on them until they made it back behind Alliance lines.

Firefly looked to Roshina. “I doubt it if Rafale wants a strato run in any route we lay out.”

“No.” Rafale shook her head. “This needs to be done quietly if possible.”

“Told ya.”

“I’m sorry, Agent Rafale, but with your parameters, I’m afraid we have no truly satisfactory options,” Roshina finally said. “You can have it delivered quickly or delivered safely, but not both.”

“Wait a minute..." Firefly tapped her chin. Quickly grabbing a pencil, she moved to a spot in the eastern mountains and circled a set of coordinates. “Roshina, do you remember scouting this pass just before we hit Azura?”

“Yes. I also recall that we abandoned it because it was not large enough for any of the capital ships.”

“Capital ships, no. But what about ARC ships?”

“It might be a tight fit, but I believe it’s possible.”

Rafale’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. “That is still within the boundaries of Nopony's Land.”

“If you want to be anal retentive about it, yes,” Firefly sighed. “But the mountains give us a huge radar mask. If we stay low and move quick it saves us two days and keeps us off radar. Nopony will know we were there. That is what you want isn’t it?”

Rafale’s eyes flicked back and forth, her muzzle wrinkled ever so slightly, and her hoof tapped on the deck as though she were peeling apart every conceivable tactical scenario that could occur en route. Finally she looked to Firefly.

“Fine. Commander Firefly, you will lead Timberwolf, Manticore, and Hydra teams through the canyon with the cargo. Commander al-Majed, I want Typhon unit to screen them from the north and be ready on QRF duty. If any Talons attempt to cross the line, terminate them.”

“Understood. I will brief my team and depart immediately. Safe journey, Firefly!”

“Same to you.” Firefly nodded in acknowledgement as Roshina strode out the hatch. Now only Firefly and Rafale remained, aside from the ARC crew. Firefly trotted up next to Rafale, giving the map one last glance before addressing her. “So are you going to tell me what’s in the box?”

“That’s classified.”

“No shit,” Firefly spat. “No need to be patronizing. My unit has the clearance.”

“That may be true,” For the first time since they had met, Rafale sighed, drawing a double take from Firefly. “But now is neither the time nor the place.”

There was a beat of awkward silence before Firefly could muster a reply. “Didn’t we discuss this ‘trust’ thing already?”

Rafale gave her a sidelong glance. “I promise I will explain soon. But right now time is of essence.”

“A promise?” Firefly raised an eyebrow. “Are you feeling all right, special agent?”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing,” Firefly said as she trotted to the hatch. “I’ll go brief my team. We’ll be under way in ten.”

11. Entanglement

View Online

Firefly was bored.

The one thing that nopony really spoke about in academy or in basic training was that the bits of adrenaline overload in combat were spaced by long stretches of nothing. Sometimes there wasn’t even busywork to fill it. In the absence of activity, everypony had to come up with their own way to kill the time. Some ponies read, some ponies wrote home, others made idle conversation.

Firefly was none of these.

Books never interested her. Focusing on printed words on a page gave her headaches and the snail’s pace of reading to get information drove her crazy. Writing frustrated her similarly. Half-remembered ideas addled her and words seemed to evaporate from her mind the moment she put pen to paper. So the aetherjets thrummed. The crew chattered idly. And Firefly festered. The locks on her knife clicked open, whirred as the blade twirled on its bearings, and snapped closed again, endlessly repeating as the trip dragged on.

Firefly paused for a moment, allowing the knife to lock in its open position. Knife was perhaps a misnomer. The blade was comparable to an Aquellian sword bayonet in size and function, barring the clear inspiration in mold from an Indrekan Karambit.

Regardless, blades were a part of her life, even more than guns. As a filly, she’d been taught their proper care and use, first as tools of survival, then as weapons of war. Royal Equestrian Army Air Corps doctrine taught air combat maneuvering using guns first. Utilizing blades and bare hooves were always a last resort in training, but to Firefly, they were all equally valid means of terminating a foe.

Sometimes, Firefly wondered if there was something wrong with her. War was never romanticized in Equestria. Before the long chain of events spiralling into the Continental War, large-scale armed conflict was virtually unheard of. Certainly there were the occasional news reports from Indrek of the griffons’ war, but those were no more than strange stories from a faraway land to a people who had never known war. In Equestria, violence was an aberration of the highest degree. It took months of training to even begin to break the equine aversion to violence... for most.

Firefly was a rare breed, a natural combatant. Out of all the things that she could have been, out of all the possible destinies for which her cutie mark was bestowed upon her, it had to be this: war. Where others were cowed, Firefly dared. Where others faltered, Firefly fought on. Where others fell, Firefly survived. She stared at the point of her knife as if balancing this last thought upon its tip.

She survived.

Firefly growled in frustration and snapped the blade closed. She leaped to her hooves and blew a throaty, exasperated burst of breath from her nostrils. Nothing felt right. Every limb was uncomfortable. Every joint needed cracked. Firefly needed to do something, else she would surely go insane.

“Storm Warden, this is Thunderhead. How copy, over?”

The radio crackled to life, momentarily drawing Firefly’s attention. Even if it was just a routine checkup, it was a welcome break from the uncomfortable monotony. Firefly trotted over to the ARC operator, standing behind and out of the way as she went about her business.

“Five by five, Thunderhead,” the radiomare said. “Send traffic.”

Firefly admittedly had rarely spoken with Siki. What little prior interactions they’d had involved pre-flight checklists, flight plans, and review of orders. She could say, however, that the tall zebra mare’s sharp gaze matched the acerbic edge on her tongue. Firefly was happy to have a competent operator on board for this rotation.

“I’ve, uh, got some pulsed static on the lines. Sounds like it’s coming from your end. Do you mind running a calibration check on your IFF transponder?”

“Roger. Running self-test circuit, stand by.” Siki operator flipped several switches on her control panel, keeping constant eye on the IFF transponder window. “Self-test came back clean. Recommend you recheck your end, Thunderhead.”

“Already done, Storm Warden. Test came back clean on my end.”

Siki sighed emphatically, rubbing her forehead with a hoof. “It looks like I’ll have to slap maintenance around again once we land. Not much we can do about it while we’re airborne. Check in again if something changes.”

“Understood, Storm Warden. Thunderhead, out.”

“What’s our ETA, Siki?” Firefly asked the radiomare.

Siki turned to face Firefly, leaning over her chair. “We’ve got about fifteen majesties until we hit the next waypoint. It’s all canyon from there.”

Finally. An excited, involuntary shiver gripped Firefly. Her tail flicked happily and she breathed a sigh of relief. Finally something was going to happen.

“About damn time.” Firefly strode over to the bunks and banged loudly on the bulkhead. “Wake up meatheads!”

Her enthusiasm was met with groans from the stallions as they grudgingly roused from their slumber. Thunderlane rolled off the top bunk and fluttered to the deck, shaking himself awake from head to tail. Stretching out his wings and cracking his neck, Thunderlane noticed that Sunburst had chosen to roll over and try to go back to sleep. A single grey pinion flipped out like a jackknife and slid toward Sunburst’s muzzle.

Before he was even done, Eastwind was laughing. At Thunderlane’s tickling, Sunburst spewed forth a thunderous sneeze, launching himself upright and smashing his forehead directly into the underside of the bunk. At first, only Eastwind’s shrill cackle persisted, but soon Firefly and Thunderlane joined in. Siki was caught by the epidemic and soon the rest of the ARC crew was in hysterics.

“Oh sure,” Sunburst grumbled. “Make fun of the old vet, huh? If you guys tried this while I was RDC I’d ride your asses so hard you’d wish you were lame instead of chafed!”

“Oh gods,” Eastwind panted, still unable to control her laughter, “Make it stop!”

“You should have seen the look on your face, abuelo!” Thunderlane had composed himself but was still all smiles.

“Laugh it up, nugget!” Sunburst growled, ostensibly angry, but it was easy to see the smile tugging at his lips from the sheer absurdity of the situation. “See how you like it when I wake you up next time!”

“All right, all right, pull it back together, guys!” Firefly waved a hoof in the ‘rally up’ sign, calling for quiet. “We’re about to go in, so I need everypony up and ready. Siki, patch us through to the other ships and Typhon unit.”

“Aye, ma’am.” Her hooves danced across the radio controls. The radio beeped as the encryption unit completed its handshake. “We’re live. All escort units, this is Storm Warden. Report in.”

“Hydra unit stands ready. Thunderhead standing by.”

“Manticore team is ready. Derecho has all lights green.”

“Typhon reads. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

One by one, the teams and their ARC ships reported in. Firefly clicked her radio on, linking it to the temporary network established by the ARC ships. “This is Timberwolf One. Our favorite lady in grey has already briefed you all on the situation, so I won’t rehash it. I will say that the less noise we make, the easier this will be. It’s like going through the Canterlot train tunnel as a foal: hold your breath, stay quiet, and wait for the light on the other side. Any questions?”

“Just one, commander,” Thunderlane said, injecting as much mock snark into his voice as possible. “How do I get out of this chickenshit outfit?”

“You secure that shit, lieutenant!” Firefly smirked, pausing to allow the chuckles across the net to die down. “This is the toughest leg of the trip. Once we’re through, we’re home free. Now let’s get to it!”

“Hydra and Thunderhead copy.”

“Manticore and Derecho understand.”

“Typhon unit!” Firefly issued her final order. “Everyone ready?”

“Of course,” Roshina replied. Firefly chuckled. She could almost hear Roshina’s signature draconic grin.

“You’re cleared to break formation and engage targets of opportunity. Happy hunting!”

“Typhon unit, peel off and head north! Let’s start a fight!” A chorus of cheers could be heard among the warrior dragons. “I’ll see you on the other side, Firefly!”

“Likewise. Wolf One, out.”

“Probably itching to get into it, huh?” Thunderlane trotted up to her side as he spoke.

“Always. You expected Roshina to ease up on a milk run like this?”

“Guess I shouldn’t.”

“Don’t get too comfy yourself,” Firefly said. “We’re on guard duty when we hit the canyon. Suit up.”

“And here I was thinking I could get back to napping!” Said Sunburst with the most dramatic of sighs.

“If all goes according to plan, we shouldn’t even need to worry about decoy or real deal,” Eastwind said. “If they don’t know we’re here we won’t have to fight ‘em.”

“Since when has anything gone according to plan?” Firefly chided. “First Onyx, then the Abyss, and now Nopony’s Land. I’d rather be ready to light up those sumbitches and be pleasantly surprised than expect a cakewalk and get a funeral.”

Firefly was already gearing up as she spoke. She slid the weapon locker open and strapped on the familiar repeater. For her secondary slot, she selected the real steel version of the scattergun the Timberwolves had used in training. Firing ballistic lances in close quarters would not be a terribly good idea; Firefly would be relying on the ARC ship’s heavy repeater to provide fire against hardened targets.

“It’s been ages since I’ve gotten to bust this baby out for ops! Oh my little Virago how I’ve missed you!”

Sunburst cradled the weapon like it was a small foal. Unlike Firefly’s aether-fueled repeater and scattergun combo, the carbine was clearly a firearm. The weapon had clear heft to it. A fluted barrel ended in a massive triple baffled muzzle brake with cutouts angled to deflect gun gas and muzzle blast away from the shooter’s face. The receiver was blocky, feeding from an oversized magazine of 13.3mm rounds. A magnified optic rounded out the weapon system.

“Virago”, he’d called it. Firefly had fired the rifle version once during weapons familiarization training. The rifle version lived up to its nickname with its intractable recoil and skull-shattering muzzle blast. She could only imagine how REA engineers had managed to shrink it down without turning it into an even harsher mistress.

“Boys and their toys,” Eastwind muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Did I ever tell you about sniper school, Thunderlane?” Sunburst said, completely ignoring Eastwind.

Thunderlane paused, lifting an eyebrow. “He serious?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, he is,” Eastwind snorted. “Got the tabs and everything... back when we were still considered infantry anyway.”

“Save it, Sunshine. Just put your gear on like a good colt scout.”

Sunburst stuck his tongue out in silly retort before returning to suiting up. Eastwind and Thunderlane had elected for less exotic loadouts, each equipping the same repeater/BLX combination that was standard for fliers in the unit. A quick peek out the porthole showed that the ARC ship’s gunner was already in position in his cupola and additional crew were working on preparing the deck. Firefly took a deep breath.

“Ready?”

“Ready as we’re going to be,” Eastwind nodded.

“Hit it, Siki.”

“Going dark.” The lights in the cabin switched to red alert lamps as Siki worked the controls. “Shutting down wireless transceivers. Radars set to passive mode. IFF shut down. Emissives readout is clean. We’re running silent now.”

“Timberwolves. Out on deck, now.”

Eastwind hoofed the hatch open and the Timberwolves filed out, joining the armed ARC crew on deck. The otherwise clean lines of the ARC ship now bristled with armored panels and racks holding ballistic lance tubes, Virago magazines, and LEAPS cartridges for aetheric repeaters. Wordlessly, the squad dispersed, taking up position behind the armored shields, weapons pointed outwards.

Siki’s pronouncement was matter of fact. “Entering the canyons now.”

Firefly looked forward and couldn’t help but gawk. She’d seen it once before, but it was just as awe-inspiring the second time. Titanic walls of stone and ice loomed ahead. Striations of brown and grey were broken up by streaks of blue and white where ice had intruded into exposed strata. What appeared as a small ravine from the map could easily have swallowed the Majestic whole were it turned sideways. It was as if an unfathomably large blade had been dragged across the surface of the wastes.

Thunderlane gave a low whistle. “If this weren’t a warzone it would be a great vacation spot!”

“Keep your head in the game, kid.”

The canyon walls continued to grow as the convoy approached, stretching nearly a thousand meters skyward. The width of the opening, however, was barely enough for two ARC ships to fit through abreast. Darkness fell upon the formation as they entered the canyon proper. Silently the convoy advanced. There was no chatter, no radio traffic, only the white noise of aetherjet turbines echoing through ancient stone. Like a strange heartbeat the low thrum went out, returning to Firefly’s ear after bouncing through narrow rock defiles and splinters of intruding ice. Firefly could feel the air around her change. It was palpably colder, deader, and stale, as if the air had not been disturbed in millenia.

“And now we wait...” Firefly muttered to herself under her breath.

Firefly had lost count of the course corrections after the thirtieth. Each turn executed by the helm was slow and calculated, assigned a waypoint name, a grid coordinate, and a deflection angle. If she’d flown the path before she’d be able to lead somepony through. Steering a ship through the labyrinthine passages via dead reckoning, however, was a much different matter; a matter that Firefly was glad she had no part in. Much like her aversion to literature, her aversion to hard numbers shone through when she was bored. Restlessness continued to plague her in spite of the fact that they were technically on combat alert.

Firefly’s ear flicked, followed by her tail. Soon her hoof was tapping the deck and scraping at the base of the armored shield. The air was changing again. There was more movement to it and a crispness to it that indicated it was flowing into the canyon from the outside. The headwind that had developed confirmed her hunch.

Soon enough, the ship’s deck lit up in the glow of sunlight falling through the the rocky cleft of the canyon exit. Firefly breathed a sigh of relief. It was almost over. Soon they’d be able to light up the turbines, go strato, and go home. She could just feel the wind in her mane and under her hooves, the sun on her coat, and...

Firefly’s ear twitched. Something was wrong. They’d stopped moving. Gritting her teeth and mumbling curses under her breath, Firefly strode to the hatch and violently hoofed it open. The loud CLANG of metal on metal reverberated through the canyon.

“What the hell is going on?”

The two pilots looked at each other like they didn’t know what to do at first. Finally, one of them spoke. “Mines, ma’am. The exit is blocked with mines.”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Firefly trotted into the cabin and peered over their shoulders through the front windscreen. Sure enough, it was as they’d described. Bulbous aerostats with snow-white envelopes floated ahead, a blocky metallic growth dangling below each one like a bell on a wind chime, each loaded with high explosive. Firefly squinted. In the glow of the afternoon sun, Firefly could make out silver strands of spun cable linking the floating mines together. The cable net spanned the width and height of the canyon, as far as she could see.

There was no way out.

Firefly’s eyes went wide and the hairs in her coat stood on end. No. No one should have been here. No one could have known. There was no way there should have been a minefield here. Her danger sense piqued at the realization. Years of combat training and the millennia of prey instinct hardwired into her species came together in that instant. They were being stalked.

“Siki, get radars online now.”

The zebra raised an eyebrow. “We’re breaking radio silence?”

“Do it,” Firefly said as she keyed her radio. “All ARC ships, this is Wolf Lead. Spool up radars and prepare to move out!”

Leaving Siki to her tasks, Firefly bolted out of the cabin. She was greeted with the quizzical stares of everyone on deck. Eastwind caught her eye, a concerned frown forming on her lips. Firefly called for rally up with a hoof signal.

“What’s going on?”

Firefly’s ear twitched. She raised her eyes skyward. Pillars of cold sunlight filtered down through the rime-rimmed cliff edges. At first there was nothing. But suddenly, there was movement, unnatural shadows flitting across the crystalline crevasse lip. Firefly pointed above and shouted.

“AMBUSH!”

Before she’d finished her warning, Firefly was already mashing the trigger. Her aether bolts streaked upward and found soft flesh, eliciting a cry of pain from above. The ballistic lance meant for her ship screamed past her head, burying itself harmlessly into the canyon wall. The crevasse exploded. Rockets and tracers rained down from above. Aether lances and heavy repeater rounds blasted into the cliff face from below. In the eye of the storm was Firefly.

Surprise was quickly quenched with anger. Not on her watch. Not while she was capable of fighting. With a furious burst of predatory ferocity, Firefly launched from the deck. She burst from the canyon, slamming into her prey at bone-shattering speed. A surprised squawk barely escaped his beak before the blade tore into his throat, stripping his voice from him in a fit of crimson mist.

Suddenly, the fugue broke. Firefly was airborne, losing speed, and the object of attention from a nest of angry Talon marines. She gasped for breath as she whirled around, putting the body of her now-deceased victim between herself and the soldiers below.

Finally, Firefly hit the apex of her climb. Green tracers flashed past her like angry hornets, blasting her with sonic shock and propellant smoke. Bullets pinged off the dead griffon’s armor plate and sank into exposed flesh with sickening thuds as she began to fall. Firefly yanked her blade out of her victim and returned fire in kind. Violet aether lances lashed out at the grounded griffons, momentarily silencing her foes. With the ground mere meters away, Firefly kicked off the corpse and give her wings a mighty flap.

CRUNCH.

The bullet-riddled griffon slammed into the exposed stone and crumpled into an amorphous heap. Firefly quickly folded her wings and tucked her head. Snow planed out around her as she skidded to a halt, a deep drift saving her from enduring the same fate as her adversary. The gunfire resumed. Tracers screamed overhead as she crawled through the cold snow to the cover of a large boulder.

“Timberwolves, Manticores, Hydras, get your asses airborne NOW!” Firefly snarled into the microphone. “I’m topside! I’ll cover you from here! MOVE!”

A chorus of affirmatives came back over the airwaves. Firefly quickly peeked around the boulder, snapping off quick bursts at the few griffons she could see. It was just enough to get their attention. Firefly pressed her back against the rock and withdrew as streams of green tracers pounded her fighting position. Scrambling around the far side of the rock, Firefly dropped onto her side, leaning out just far enough to throw more fire downrange. Again the reprisal was vicious and immediate.

“Over here, asshole!”

Firefly winced as the muzzle blast of the Virago overloaded the microphone in the wake of Sunburst’s taunt. More shouted commands and the distinctive sound of Equestrian repeater fire quickly followed. The silhouette of a pegasus flier screamed overhead, guns blazing. A resounding BOOM shook the cliffs as Thunderlane fired his ballistic lance.

“BLX out!”

Firefly keyed her radio. “Eastwind, SITREP.”

“Talons are retreating to the north. Hydra is sweeping for stragglers and Manticore unit is holding the cliffside. Where do you need us?”

Firefly peered out from behind cover now that the return fire had dwindled. To the north, opposite her boulder, she could pick out the paw and claw prints of retreating Talons. Sporadic bursts of green and violet tracer fire arced between the pegasi of Hydra team on the ground and the remaining griffons up the hill. Where were they trying to go? Firefly was going to find out.

“Stay airborne. I’m coming to you. Storm Warden, come in.”

“Storm Warden copies. Send traffic.”

“Damage report.”

“Minimal. Auxiliary antenna damaged on us. Two crew lightly wounded on Derecho from a ballistic lance glancing off a deck armor panel. Minor damage to engine nacelle on Thunderhead. All critical systems on all ships are functional.”

“Good. Spool up and get airborne in five majesties. If we don’t clear these guys in time I need you to make a break for it. Cargo is priority!”

“Roger that, commander.”

Firefly launched into the air, her wings feeling much better in proper flight than cowering on the ground. A few flaps more and she was close enough to fall in with the rest of the Timberwolves. Sunburst was positioned to the east atop a cloud, the barrel of his Virago still smoking from his last shot. Eastwind waved in greeting as Firefly formed up with their orbit.

“What are they falling back to? Do they have an EVAC ship?”

“Don’t know,” Eastwind shrugged. “We have air superiority right now so they might try to extract on foot. We might be dealing with airborne rather than fighter-trained. They seem way more eager to fight us on the ground than in the air.”

Firefly’s lip curled into a frown. “Talons with no ACM training? Something doesn’t feel right.”

The ridge above splintered into jagged, rocky, crags that shot out of the wastes like a leviathan’s fins. Smatterings of ice stained the otherwise featureless slate of the underlying rock. Hard shadows broke up any outlines on the ridge above -- save for one. Her eyes were drawn to cluster of boxy shapes nestled in the broken rock. Movement around them confirmed her suspicion.

“There! I see more of them on the ridge!” Thunderlane said.

“Looks like they have a backup plan. Let’s interrupt.”

“Wait what are they setting up?”

Puffs of smoke backlit with orange flame burst from the Talon fortification. The brightly burning flares rose into the sky in the distinctive launch signature of an Aquellian rocket mortar pack. But the rounds did not arc back down, instead continuing to rise into the sky, directly into the path of their patrol route.

“Airburst! Get down!”

Firefly snapped her wings shut and let gravity take her. The mortar rounds burst harmlessly above as she snapped her wings open again meters from the ground. Firefly growled angrily. She wasn’t about to let a bunch of neophytes make a fool of her.

“We need to get back up there! If we lose the air, we--”

Firefly was interrupted by the agitated chatter of machine gun fire. A stream of tracers lashed out at her. She tucked her wings and rolled into the snow, grounding herself once again. Firefly skidded to a halt behind another glacial boulder. She angrily pounded a hoof against it.

“Should have known this was too easy!”

“This is Hydra One! We’re pinned! That MG isn’t going to let us take off!”

“So much for air superiority!” Thunderlane barely managed to catch himself as he slid into cover next to Firefly. Eastwind was not far behind.

Firefly did a quick headcount, “where the hell is Sunburst?”

“A hundred fifty meters behind you,” came the reply via radio. “Flak got a bit intense there, but I’ve got a good position.”

“Where are they shooting from?”

“It’s a camouflaged bunker up the ridge from you. They’ve got good cover and a lot of snow to block line of sight. No wonder we didn’t see it from the air!”

“Do you have a shot on the gunner?”

“I can’t hit the gunner from here, but I can cover you from anyone stupid enough to stick their head up.”

Suddenly, she felt the earth move beneath her hooves. Firefly instinctively pressed even harder against the rock as the shock wave washed over their position. A fine mist of icy crystals lingered in the wake of the blast. More orange-yellow flares backlit their cover. The dread whistle of mortar rounds coming down grew loud in Firefly’s ears until finally the salvo finally hit ground. Looking behind, Firefly saw the craters blasted into the rocky ground by mortar shells that had overshot their position.

“Those rocket mortars are zeroing in on us!” Thunderlane shouted above the din of gunfire and explosions. “The ARC ships will get wrecked before they can take off if we don’t take them out!”

Firefly mashed her radio switch. “Siki, belay my last order! You are not cleared for takeoff, I say again you are NOT cleared for takeoff!”

“Understood. Remaining in cover.”

“Uh guys, they’re walking the mortars in on your position.”

“Thank you captain obvious!” Eastwind snarled at Sunburst.

The older stallion chuckled. “Didn't realize I was up for a promotion so soon!”

“I’m about to promote you to Major Pain in the Ass!” Firefly cut in. “Mortars need a spotter! Find him and take him out!”

“More mortars incoming!” Thunderlane shouted.

A quick peek from behind cover was met with mass machine gun fire. Firefly shouted her curses until they ran together.
It had only been for a split second, but she’d seen it; the tiny glint of light off the Talon scout’s spotting scope lens.

“Sunburst, slew northwest of our position up the second-tallest spire! Hurry!”

There was no reply, only the distant report of the Virago. A sharp thud-CRACK rang through the valley as the sniper round tore through the air. Firefly inched out from behind the rock just in time to see the results. A plume of chalky grey dust lingered above the scout’s perch. Out of the cloud fell a single birdlike form. No attempt to stabilize or recover was made; she was dead before she hit the ground.

“Still think I never went to sniper school, kid?”

“Haha! Nice shot, abuelo!”

“Wolf lead, we’re in position. We’ll provide covering fire when ready.”

“Suppress now!” Firefly leaped over the boulder with a quick flap of her wings. “Timberwolves on me!”

A torrent of violet lances burst from Hydra team’s position, kicking up plumes of molten rock chips and steam in front of the machine gun position. There was a momentary pause in machine gun fire. When the tracers resumed, they were directed at their new assailant. Her opening secured, Firefly bolted from behind the rock, scrambling up the scree and snow of the slope.

The Timberwolves took wing behind her, skimming along the surface of the slope ahead. Single rifle shots flashed by. Unaimed mortar rounds splashed harmlessly behind. Firefly flapped harder, half flying, half galloping toward her distant target. Her final dash placed them directly under the bunker, out of sight of the machine gunner. Violet and green tracers screamed overhead punctuated with unintelligible shouting of orders and curses.

“Eastwind, ballistic lance!”

Eastwind nodded and unclipped her ballistic lance tube. Firing up at the cliff face required an altered stance, one that could not be achieved using the flight harness mount. Eastwind carefully checked the backblast zone and sighted in on her target.

FOOM.

Firefly’s ears rang with the shock of the BLX shot. High explosive hellfire tore away the bunker face, showering the pegasi below with fragments of rock and clouds of soot and steam. The machine gun fell silent. For a moment, the valley was calm. Suddenly, the innards of the bunker blew out in a massive gout of orange-yellow flame. Secondary explosions thundered across the valley as the entire mountainside seemed to ignite. The flames dispersed, replaced by the grinding, screeching sound of shifting stone echoing from above as the cliffside gave way.

“Move!”

Firefly grabbed Eastwind and shoved her into Thunderlane, sending all three of them tumbling across the slope. One rock fell, then two, followed by a cascade of snow and stone that flooded the valley with a choking cloud of ash grey dust. Firefly coughed and sputtered, her lungs burning in the blasted cloud. Eastwind groaned beneath her and Thunderlane scrambled to his hooves, spitting the dust as he went.

“You mind telling me the next time you do that?” Eastwind’s gripe was clearly in jest, the levity just barely enough to cover the shock of what could have been. “I think you almost broke a wing!”

Firefly managed a wan smile. “Would you rather be part of that avalanche back there?”

“You’re going to need to stop doing that, jefa,” Thunderlane smirked. “I hate owing my superiors favors!”

“I’ll try not to oblige you too much then,” Firefly chuckled. “Anyone else still alive report in!”

“Manticore team is good.”

“Hydra team is still online.”

“Wolf Four, here. That was a hell of a secondary!”

In wake of the detonation, an eerie silence settled over the valley. Firefly strained to hear anything beyond the sporadic bursts of radio chatter between other squads, but there was nothing. Firefly frowned. The lull made her jittery. She had seen and survived some incredible things; was this all it took to end a team of Aquellian Marines? Regardless of her feelings, they were on the clock. Something had to be done and quickly. She keyed her radio again.

“Manticore, hold the cliffside. Hydra, move up and secure east side of the slope. My team will take the west. As soon as we secure this area, we’re skids up and getting the hell out of here.”

“Roger that.”

“Sunburst, keep an eye on that ridge while we advance.”

“You got it.”

Firefly oriented herself and took point. The trek up the slope was slow. Visibility was poor from the miniature avalanche and patches of loose scree made ground traversal treacherous. Each step was placed with caution and guarded with wary glances uphill. Finally, they arrived.

Charred rock and smoldering craters marked the ruins of the Talon outpost. Secondary explosions from mortar rounds cooking off had all but obliterated any semblance of structure in the griffon camp. Tent poles were snapped like matchsticks by the force of the blasts.

There was little discernable blood on the ground or the slope. It appeared that all wounds had either been cauterized by the flames or carried away in the avalanche. Firefly grimaced as the smell of burning flesh wafted into her nostrils.

“That’s gonna take a while to wash out..." Eastwind muttered, clearly suffering from the same odor.

“Not a single survivor,” Thunderlane whispered, mostly to himself, before turning to address his squadmates. “This damn outpost must have been loaded with mortar packs. What the hell were they prepping to kill?”

“Us,” Firefly said grimly. “Let’s case the camp for intel.”

“Not sure how much we’ll be able to get out of this, jefa. This place is trashed.” A stern look sent Thunderlane back to sifting through rubble.

Any camouflage netting and tent material not burned to ash were shredded and tattered beyond recognition or usefulness. The main bunker was completely obliterated. A small pile of stones marked where an egress port would have been; the rest was several hundred meters down the slope in a pile of smoking rock and cinder.

“Who the hell were these guys?” Eastwind wondered out loud.

“Rookies,” Firefly scoffed. “We haven’t fought as infantry in years, but they completely buckled when we fought them on the ground. That trick with the rocket mortars and machine guns was clever, but they didn’t take advantage of the opening they made. No battle-hardened veteran would make that mistake.”

“Probably conscripts from other pirate bands Cindermane assimilated...” Eastwind trailed off.

There was a brief beat of silence as they listened for any sign of griffon activity. But even in the silence, Firefly could tell that words remained on the tip of her tongue. “Spit it out, Windy.”

“Am I the only one who’s uncomfortable with this entire op?” Eastwind finally spat. Even as she searched the rubble, Eastwind failed to hide her concerned frown. “Something’s wrong, Fi. What are the odds we ran right into a Talon outpost that wasn’t there during the scouting mission a few days ago by chance?”

“Damn near impossible.” Firefly growled.

She’d meant to ask the questions later when they were safely back at Topaz. But Firefly was terrible at being patient. Eastwind spoke exactly what was on Firefly’s mind, bringing the mystery back to the forefront. How did the Talons know where they’d be? Did the Talons know of their cargo? Who had given the Talons intel on their movements? Firefly hated thinking about it, but only one thought kept coming to mind.

“Someone ratted us out,” she finally said.

“But who?” Eastwind asked.

“It would have to be someone high up on the chain,” Firefly mused. “Someone with access to strategic info and troop movements. Someone who’d also be willing to screw us over. Someone like...”

“Skywind?” Thunderlane interjected.

Firefly couldn’t help but laugh, however terrible the joke was. “Sunburst is rubbing off on you, kid!”

“What about Rafale?” Eastwind suggested. “She’s got access to more intel than we’re privy to and she’s willing to keep her own operatives in the dark about it. She won’t even tell us what’s in those crates.”

“Weren’t you two chill?”

Firefly shot Thunderlane a dirty look. “Not funny, Thunderlane.”

He raised a hoof in a halting gesture. “Pun not intended, jefa. Just thought you two had made up and gotten friendly before we left.”

Firefly snorted in mock disgust. “Friendly? No. Professional? Yes. I trust her like I trust Skywind. They’re assholes, but they’re not traitors.”

“Then who set us up?”

“I have a feeling the answer is in that crate.” Firefly looked back to the ARC ship. “I’m going to grill the shit out of Rafale when we get back. We deserve answers.”

The radio beeped, interrupting their discussion. “This is Sunburst. Firefly, I’ve got something shiny about thirty meters north of your current position. Might want to check it out.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Sunburst.” Firefly pointed to their destination. “Let’s go!”

The team trotted across the broken ground. As they approached, Firefly saw what Sunburst had directed them to find. A glint of silver metal peeked from the rubble. Firefly pushed the broken rock and dirt aside with a hoof. The sheen resolved itself into the familiar shape of a radiotelephone set, one that she recognized as an Aquellian marine infantry model. Firefly bent down, inspecting the casing.

“What have we got?” Eastwind asked.

Firefly’s brow furrowed. “It’s a radio. Looks like it might be salvageable.”

Curious, Thunderlane gave the radio a poke with his hoof. He recoiled in shock as the dirt and rock slid neatly off the casing, leaving it with the appearance of a mirror sheen.

“What... that’s not damage, that’s dirt.” Thunderlane said in surprise. “The casing is barely even scratched.”

“Pyrium casing,” Eastwind said. “That can’t be cheap. Why would a rookie unit have access to something like this?”

“Do you remember who they were assigned to take down?”

“Cindermane must have wanted to keep tabs on these guys. This might be just the link we need to track her down. Thunderlane, get the radio back down to the ARC ships.” Firefly keyed her radio. “Storm Warden, this Wolf Lead. I have intel I’m sending over for lockup.”

“How long until we get the ships up and running?”

Firefly tapped one hoof on her earpiece. The other restlessly pawed at the deck, seeming to move of its own volition. Anxiety was not something Firefly experienced often. It wasn’t from imminent combat, either. Firefly could slay Talons all day. It was the unknowns that nagged her. Who had set them up? What was so important about the cargo they carried? What was Rafale keeping from them?

“Thunderhead’s field repairs are almost complete. Shouldn’t be too much longer now.”

The ARC ships were anchored a hundred meters above the canyon’s edge, low enough to keep them out of the line of fire but high enough that their radar masts were able to scan the horizon. Talon resistance had all but vanished. Firefly reckoned that they were all either dead or routed. Either way, her team didn’t have the horsepower to hunt down stragglers or continue the search.

“What happened to ‘lightly damaged nacelle?’” Firefly growled.

“There was more damage than we’d previously thought. Looks like a loose turbine blade. We need to fish it out or the whole thing will go up in flames when we spool up.”

“Not to rush you guys, but we just wiped out an entire platoon of Red Talons back there. When they don’t report in, the rest of them are gonna come looking! Get it done and report back in when you do! Wolf Lead, out.”

Firefly cut the transmission and let out a long, slow breath in an effort to calm herself. She would save her temper for those who deserved it. Snapping at the crew on board ship wouldn’t help anyone. They were doing the best they could and she couldn’t ask much more of them.

“Commander Firefly?”

With a much more even tone, Firefly answered. “Siki?”

“I have something you need to hear.”

“What have we got?” Firefly leaned over the console.

Siki patched the signal through, broadcasting on Timberwolf squad’s subchannel. There was nothing but static at first. But soon a pattern emerged from the noise. “What am I listening to?”

“I recorded this on passive comms on our way in. It’s an IFF transponder signature.”

“Why didn’t you report this earlier?”

“It was just static earlier. I dismissed it as a calibration error at first but it kept popping up.”

“You said it was a transponder signal.” Inside, Firefly already knew the answer, but she had to be sure. “Whose transponder signal?

“It’s an old Aquellian transponder profile — pre-war. I had to do some digging in the codebooks to find a compatible cipherkey, but it’s a match for the type ANA combat vessels used during the war.”

On cue, the radar console beeped. Firefly’s blood ran cold. That was the beep code for radar contact. All of the pieces fell into place. The radiotelephone, the cargo, the ambush, the IFF code; they were being hunted.

“Commander, I’ve got new radar contacts to the north!” Siki exclaimed. “Two airships, high tonnage!”

“We need to get out of here, NOW!” Firefly shouted. “Timberwolves, get airborne! All ARC ships stand by for liftoff!”

“Repairs to Thunderhead’s engines are not yet complete.”

“Then hurry your asses up! The Talons are damn near on top of us!”

Firefly stormed out of the cabin. They were stuck. But she wasn’t about to leave the ARC crew behind. She wasn’t leaving anyone behind.

“All teams, be advised, one radar contact has broken off from formation and is headed our way!” Siki updated the teams by radio.

“We’re out of time. All combat flier teams get airborne now!”

With a hoof signal command, the Timberwolves launched from their ARC ship deck, bursting from the canyon in a spray of swirling powder. Hydra and Manticore were close behind. Firefly glanced north. The vessel was smaller than the cruiser they’d battled over Onyx, but it was also much closer. Like its larger cousin, it shared the same beak-like prow and streamlined hull. The frigate bristled with guns and marines could be seen moving around on deck as they prepared for combat.

“Horizon-class frigate. We’re not packing enough heat to bring it down.” Firefly’s mental assessment was quick. “Storm Warden get Typhon over here, NOW!”

Frigates were cannon fodder against capital ships in fleet formation. But Firefly had neither. ARC ships were for reconnaissance and patrol. They could handle a flier squad easily, but machine guns and aetheric repeaters wouldn’t even scratch a frigate’s armor. Frigates were loaded with autocannons and rockets that could make short work of the lightly armored patrol craft.

“Typhon unit, this is Storm Warden, give me a SITREP!”

“We’re currently engaged with Talon skirmishers.” The chatter of gunfire in the background confirmed Roshina’s report. “What’s going on?”

“We are under overwhelming attack at grid square Omen Four-Four! Need QRF here immediately!”

“Understood. Disengaging and maneuvering to assist, ETA eight minutes.”

Eight minutes? It may well have been eight years. The frigate would be on top of them in under sixty seconds with a full complement of heavy weapons and fresh combat fliers. Firefly gritted her teeth.

“What do we do, Commander?” Even Thunderlane’s reply was missing its characteristic mellow charm.

With grim determination, Firefly replied, “We fight.”

It would be a delaying action. A dozen lightly armed combat fliers stood little chance against a force thrice as large with close-in capital ship support. Firefly was willing to fight impossible odds herself, but not when precious cargo and other lives were on the line. The best Firefly could hope for was holding the Talons long enough for the ARC ships to escape.

“Something’s wrong,” Eastwind suddenly said. “They’re not deploying in attack formation.”

Firefly squinted into the distance. The ship had stopped growing in size, indicating that it had halted its advance. Talon marines could be seen disembarking from the decks, taking wing and fanning out to the north and south but staying well clear of gun range. None of the attackers dared to close with the Timberwolves.

“They don’t want to shoot us down. They want the cargo intact. The flankers are out to cut off our escape!” Firefly growled angrily at the realization. “ARC crews, stand by to repel boarders! Hydra, Manticore, I need you on the north and south flanks! We need to keep our escape window open as long as possible!”

“Aye, ma’am!”

“Wait. If those guys are the backstop, then who’s the boarding team?”

Thunderlane’s answer came from the deck of the ship. Four metallic dots launched from the frigate, gleaming brightly in the late afternoon sun. As they closed, the shining lights resolved into the polished luster of blood red armor trimmed with polished silver. The trap had been sprung.

Now, the hunters had returned to collect their prey.

12. Red Moon

View Online

“Contact! Tally four Ironclads closing fast!” Siki’s voice cracked at the pronouncement.

Firefly’s eyes remained locked upon the rapidly approaching griffonoids. Ironclads were the elite shock troops of the Aquellian military, only called upon when overwhelming force was required. The arrival of an Ironclad team was enough to strike fear into the hearts of all but the most hardened of Equestrian forces. Announcing their presence was no tactical blunder; they were never meant to hide.

Red lenses glowed in beaked helms. Segmented pyrium armor shone crimson, gleaming with chrome filigree trim. All four Ironclads sported the same blood red carapace and chrome underbelly, but each could be distinguished by their unique armor pieces and weapons as they closed to visual range. The jagged emblem of the crescent moon and claw on their shoulder pauldrons all but confirmed their identity.

Red Moon.

The name rang in Firefly’s mind, echoing the readings of the dossiers during briefing. It was Cindermane’s old squadron, the cadre of elites that were willing to desert with her. VFA-108 had been the point of the spear in the search for Cindermane. But it was Cindermane’s goons who had found them first.

The lead griffon wielded the weapons of a Knight of old. In his right claw rested a monstrous blade nearly a pony-length long. In the other claw was a pointed, arrowhead-shaped targe painted in the same red and chrome scheme of the squadron’s armor. The griffon itself was equally enormous, easily twice the size of Firefly and kilo for kilo a match for even a dragon like Zaan.

The griffon on its left wing brandished an Aquellian long rifle with a telescopic sight. Its armor was far more streamlined and of noticeably lighter build than the goliath that spearheaded its squadron. The beaked helm covered its eyes and protected its head, but left its beak and cheeks exposed, presumably so it could shoulder and aim its rifle.

On the goliath’s right wing was another griffon wearing similar armor. Instead of melee weapons, however, it carried a large gun with a stubby barrel. A flexible metal ammunition feed belt ran from a reservoir on his chest to the weapon’s receiver. Firefly recognized the silhouette as an Aquellian heavy repeater originally slated for use on airships. This griffon wielded it as a personal weapon.

The last griffon’s armor bore the marks of command. A single short fin ran from the top of its helmet down its back like the plume of an ancient centurion’s helm. Though this one was the rearmost in the diamond formation, it was no less battle ready. In one claw was a massive handgun; it bore a single large barrel with no revolver cylinder, very unlike the sidearms that Firefly had seen other Griffons use. In the other claw loomed the menacing blade of a griffon broadsword.

“ALL UNITS. WEAPONS FREE.” She shouted.

The sky ignited. Tracers lit the flanks as Manticore and Hydra laid into their opponents. The Talons retaliated in kind. The Knight and the Sniper peeled off to the flanks, leaving the Commander and the Gunner barreling headlong toward Firefly.

“Sunburst, take the Gunner down. Eastwind, the Knight. Thunderlane, hit the Sniper. The Commander is mine.” Firefly launched forward. “Get in close, attack from behind. Never let them out of your sight!”

“Hooyah!”

Firefly snap rolled left, allowing the Ironclad Sniper’s bullet to streak by harmlessly. A powerful flap of her wings dispelled the lingering vapor trail of the bullet as she powered toward her target. Crosshairs flashed over her foe. Pinions and tail hairs trimmed themselves until the gunsight pipper slid over the Ironclad Commander’s helm. Firefly hammered the trigger.

The Commander banked and drifted right, preserving its momentum but keeping its armor pointed into the assailant’s attack. Firefly’s swarm of aether bolts slammed full force into the Commander’s breastplate and helmet, but glanced off at wild angles from the magic-repelling metal. Firefly flared hard, walking her rounds around the Commander’s armor, attempting to catch a wing or a shot at the thinner armor on its back.

Her foe inverted to counter. Almost too quickly to see, it fired off a shot with its hand cannon before snap-rolling into a descending spiral, away from Firefly’s guns. Firefly quickly nosed down. The cloud of flechettes from the Ironclad Commander’s gun blasted past with a horrible buzzing roar in the space where Firefly’s head had been just a moment before.

Firefly broke off the dive and banked left, switching targets. The Commander was trying to split them up, luring Firefly into a fight in the weeds that she’d be hard pressed to win. No one could out-fight her and she wasn’t about to let a war criminal out-smart her, either. Firefly trimmed level at the south flank.

The entire flank had turned into its own battlespace. Firefly weaved between the streams of tracer fire being traded by Manticore team and their griffon foes. Her eyes caught the gleam of Ironclad armor. The Sniper darted in and out of the fray, stopping only to eye targets and taking its shots sparingly. Incoming fire from Thunderlane was answered with offhand shots from its pistol.

It was distracted; prime target material. Firefly powered forward. The Sniper grew in her gunsights as she approached. Firefly squeezed the trigger. Violet aether bolts flashed at her target, only to be intercepted by the passing Knight’s shield. With uncanny speed, the Knight spun to deflect a blow from Eastwind before lunging at Firefly.

Firefly snarled a feral curse and broke right as the Knight charged past her. With a flick of her tail, Firefly reversed her heading. Both repeaters spat hard aether tagging the Knight from behind as he sailed past. Her stall maneuver completed, Firefly rolled upright and nosed down to regain lost speed.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Autocannon rounds seared the sky in front. Firefly reversed her climb with a series of power flaps to evade the first volley. Fighting with every feather against gravity and the wash from the autocannon rounds tearing through the air past her head, Firefly clawed for altitude. The Gunner was good -- too good. Every fiber of Firefly’s being strained to evade high explosive incendiary rounds the size of her hoof, each one containing enough explosive power to pulverize her in a single strike.

THUMP. THUMP. CRACK.

A single Virago round interrupted the Gunner’s volley as Sunburst streaked by. The Gunner’s foreshortening of his burst did not go unnoticed by Firefly. She flared into a cobra turn, burning off her remaining speed to set up a shot against her assailant. Her feathers rippled in the unstable air. Her tail and legs fought to retain control as her airspeed plummeted.

Just short of a full stall, Firefly’s gunsights contacted her target. Violet lances lashed out fast as Firefly could think it. Pyrium armor flashed molten orange for a split second as Firefly’s burst hit home. Both combatants broke off their attacks, the Gunner vanishing behind the furball on the south flank and Firefly diving to regain speed once again.

The Commander was waiting. A rapid burst from Firefly’s repeater interrupted a shotgun blast aimed at her head. Her wings snapped closed and her blade snapped open. The Commander’s whirling strike clanged against Firefly’s karambit, the blades sparking brightly as metal met metal. Firefly ducked her head and slipped in under the Commander’s follow-through.

A quick jab rang her helmet like a bell. A hind leg kick slammed the Commander in the chest. Firefly roared curses as she hammered the Commander with blow after blow. Firefly grinned a predatory grin. So long as she stayed close and fought from inside her opponent’s reach, she could win. Another punch to the helmet sent the Commander reeling. With a wild battle cry, Firefly lunged forward, blade aimed squarely at her vulnerable foe’s neck.

CLANG.

Firefly’s eyes went wide. Her deathblow had been intercepted by the Knight’s intervention. The counterblow was vicious and immediate. Breath exploded from Firefly’s lungs and a sickening crunch rang heavy in her ears as the griffon’s shield slammed into her chest. The ballistic panel in her vest was surely crushed to powder by the blow. The second strike was no less vicious. The Knight’s greatsword lashed forward, leaving Firefly only a split second to dodge.

Cold metal bit into flesh. An unpleasant wetness began to mat Firefly’s coat and collar. The blade hummed as the Knight recovered its weapon. Firefly tumbled with the momentum of the shield blow, her last-second acrobatics the only thing that turned a lethal strike into a flesh wound. She grunted an unintelligible curse. She could still fight, but she was losing blood. Firefly was on borrowed time.

“Hydra Two, I’m setting you up for a shot on the Knight!”

The radioed command reached her ally and the pegasus stallion answered. Now Firefly had to create an opening. She feinted a punch to the Knight’s helm. As expected, he raised his shield to block. But the attack never came. The lightning-fast thrust slipped beneath his guard and stabbed into the space below his armor plate. Even in the roaring wind of high speed freefall, Firefly could hear the Knight grunt in pain and see the unarmored patch darken with blood.

A sinister grin crossed her face. If it bleeds, we can kill it. Firefly thrust her blade forward again. The Knight’s shield maneuvered to block. Instead of following through, Firefly stopped her attack short, using the momentum to vault over the Knight’s shield and hook her free hoof around its beak. It was little more than a slap to the face, but it was enough to provoke a counterattack, a quick jab with the pommel of the Knight’s greatsword that narrowly missed Firefly’s head. The follow-through spun it around as it attempted to follow Firefly.

“Take the shot!”

A violet muzzle flash above her was Firefly’s cue to move. She quickly sideslipped past a second pommel strike only to catch a shield bash against her chest. This one was weaker, a defensive push rather than an attacking bash. Firefly cried out in shock as the strike launched her backwards.

The Knight’s shield moved not to attack but to expose something else. GUN! Firefly twisted her body to break out of the Knight’s gunsights. But the muzzle flash from the Knight’s sidearm never came. Suddenly, Firefly realized that the rounds weren’t aimed at her.

“Hydra Two, break off your attack!”

But the warning came too late. Hydra Two’s repeater fire glanced off the Knight’s frontal armor with little effect, but the Knight’s revolver rounds hit home. The pegasus jerked unnaturally and his power dive crumbled into an uncontrolled spiral. Firefly hammered the trigger, slinging curses and aether bolts until both ran out.

The Knight was unfazed. Violet lances bounced off pyrium plating and even the harshest words could not divert him from his target. The shield smashed into Hydra Two’s head and outstretched forelegs with a sickening crunch. The crippled pegasus reversed direction, launched upward by the titanic blow. The Knight wound up his next strike, launching into a vicious whirling attack. The great blade traced out a circle of violet as it flashed through the sky.

“NO!”

The aether-powered greatsword sliced through its target like it was mere air. A glittering ring of liquid gore burst from the fallen pegasus, spraying Firefly’s goggles and splattering against her muzzle and flight jacket. Silhouetted against the sun above, Firefly could only watch as the two halves of her former comrade fell into the grey below.

“Hydra Two is down! Hydra Two is down! Shit!”

“We can’t hurt that thing!”

“Manticore One is hit! I’m going down!”

“North flank is collapsing! More Talons inbound!”

Panicked radio chatter filled the battlespace. Frantic orders from flight leaders to remaining fliers shot through the airwaves. A shudder wracked Firefly’s spine as she realized what was happening. She had fought all four Ironclads in a matter of seconds. They were cycling their attacks, constantly switching opponents to keep her team off balance and wearing them down bit by bit. This entire operation had been meticulously planned: the trap, the ambush, the Ironclad finisher.

The griffon’s blade glowed violet as he drove it forward again. A tip of Firefly’s pinions evaded the point, allowing the edge to slip past Firefly’s underside. The rush of displaced air chilled her chest and neck, but fueled the flames inside. Firefly snarled a feral response, leaping past the greatsword and striking at the armored griffon’s face.

CLANG.

Her hooves were met with metal. In one hammer-fisted sweep, the griffon intercepted her attack and slapped Firefly away with his shield. Firefly spun to bleed off speed and reverse direction. The griffon lunged again, his sword cutting the air barely a meter from Firefly’s head.

Firefly was unflinching. Ignoring the pain in her neck, she ducked under the blade and kicked the shield away. There was no time for windup or haymakers. Firefly lashed out with lightning fast jabs and cuts, each aimed at joints in her foe’s armor. Each stab stained the chrome underbelly with more and more crimson.

The Knight struggled with shield and legs, swinging wildly in an attempt to push his assailant away. Firefly struck again, hammering the griffon’s visor with her hooves before grappling onto his armor. The blade flashed red in the glint of the griffon visor’s glow, then vanished as it bit into the flesh in the griffon’s neck.

An electronic roar blasted Firefly’s senses as the griffon shrieked through its voice modulator. Using her knife as an anchor, Firefly pulled herself closer, mounting her target. She met the Ironclad’s emotionless gaze with a baleful glower. Now too close for the enemy to strike, Firefly jammed the barrel of her scattergun under the Knight’s helm.

She hammered the trigger. Sparks flew. Metal buckled. The glow faded from the Ironclad’s optics. The crunch of folding metal gave way to the sickening sizzle of burning flesh. Firefly kept shooting. When the scattergun beeped its overheat warning and seized, Firefly did not stop. The barrel of her repeater took its place and she hammered the trigger once more.

She screamed in frustration at the overheat warnings. Firefly tore her knife from the Ironclad’s throat. A vicious flurry of cuts threw sparks from contact with armor plate and gouts of crimson from flesh. Over and over she stabbed her knife into the griffon’s neck until the sinew barely stopped the blade.

“Derecho has been breached!”

“This is Wolf Two, I’m going after the team on Derecho!”

“Thunderhead has been breached!”

“This is Storm Warden, they’ve got us surrounded!”

Her throat was raw. Her vision was blurred. Her hooves were stained crimson, crusted with blackened ash from flesh burned to cinder by superheated aether. The enemy before her was surely dead, the helm bloated and misshapen from the heat of repeater fire and the incineration of its occupant. Finally she let go, allowing the dead griffon to fall.

Firefly drifted upwards as the Ironclad disappeared into the snow hundreds of meters below. Sound snapped into focus and the radio callouts suddenly began making sense again. The entire operation was falling apart. Two of her ships were compromised and the third was about to fall. The flanks were collapsing and she was still tied up fighting Ironclads.

“South flank is gone! We’re pulling back to the ships!”

“This is Wolf Three! I’m defending!”

Firefly’s hoof began to tremble. Flames licked at her marrow. Shrapnel clawed at her flesh. Ash stung her nostrils and clouded her eyes. The slick wetness of blood slithered across her hooves. The acrid stench of burned propellant and seared metal scorched her lungs. Explosions of flak darkened the sky and shook her bones. The million words Firefly could not scream burned away in the inferno of her wrath. In the inky blackness of the hellish firmament enveloping her, Firefly’s thoughts boiled away in the heat of rage until only one remained.

It would not happen again.

Thunderlane streaked overhead, wingtip vortex trails glinting in the sun, tracers following closely behind. Firefly launched after Thunderlane’s pursuer, lighting into him with repeater fire all the way. Her rounds hit home. Lance after lance ripped into the griffon’s underside, burning aether leaving blackened trails on flesh and feathers and panic in the eyes of the stricken flier. Panic turned to shock with the flick of a blade; shock to deathly tranquility as the blade cut into flesh. Firefly grabbed the griffon’s arm and pulled, the blade stopping only when it hit spine. With an angry roar of triumph, Firefly threw the griffon over her shoulder and withdrew her blade, slinging the corpse straight into the ground.

“Nice save, jefa! Looks like I owe you another one!”

Firefly roared again, flinging herself at the next Talon. Blade tore into flesh. Aether lances carved charred lesions into feather and fur. Each strike blurred into another. Each shot chained into another still. Guns and blades whirled in a kinetic kaleidoscope of death.

“I’ve got your back, Powder,” she shouted in response.

“Jefa?”

Thunderlane’s perplexity snapped her back into reality. A paroxysm of guilt wracked Firefly as she realized her mistake. Did I just...? She violently shook her head. Now was not the time for indecision and self-consciousness. Now was the time for action.

“Thunderlane, SITREP!”

“The Ironclads are focused on us. We’re fighting them to a standstill but they won’t let us get close to the other squads or the ARC ships!”

“I’m Winchester on thirteen millimeter, but it looks like their Sniper and Gunner are running low, too. We’ll bleed ‘em dry!” Sunburst radioed.

“Hydra team, SITREP!” There was only static. Firefly’s gut twisted. “Manticore, SITREP!”

More static. Cold dread gripped Firefly’s spine. They were the only ones left. Dread soon boiled away in anger. It didn’t matter if they were all that remained. She wasn’t about to go down without a fight.

“Timberwolves, fall back and tighten the perimeter. Keep the Ironclads busy. I’ll clear the ARC ships.”

“Fi, you can’t--”

“I’ll be fine, Windy! Just keep the tin cans off my back!”

“They’re here! Storm Warden has boarding teams clos--”

Siki was cut off by the deafening roar of close-range automatic gunfire. Shouts of panic, curses, and callouts crashed through the airwaves for one terrifying moment. But even as the gunfire continued across the airwaves, Firefly inverted and dove. Storm Warden’s deck grew in size as she descended. Firefly picked out one of the griffons outside and hammered the trigger. Burning aether downed her target, leaving him writhing on the deck.

CRUNCH.

Firefly slammed into the griffon, her hooves smashing her hapless foe’s skull against the deck like the strike of a thunderbolt. The second Talon looked on in shocked horror before eating a scattergun burst to the face. More Talons rushed from the cabin. Firefly hooked the closest one with her knife, spinning her around and pressing her hoof onto the griffon’s trigger finger, simultaneously slaying the Talon’s allies with their own weapon and shielding herself from the retaliatory fusillade. The rifle clicked dry.

Ripping her knife across her former shield’s neck, Firefly dropped her bullet-ridden griffon shield and lunged to the next griffon. Leaping from target to target, Firefly was deadly chain lighting in motion with guns blazing and blades flashing. She finally came to a halt upon the ARC ship’s deck. Her hooves wore a sheen of bright crimson. Her blade dripped with fresh blood. Her gear bore the gorey stains of close combat.

They were dead. All of the Talons were dead. But what of the ARC crew?

Signs of extreme close quarters fighting littered the ship. Blood splatters coated the deck rails and bulkheads. Bullet impacts and char marks from repeater fire peppered the portholes and windscreens. No armored barriers remained standing; all had been blown to bits by ballistic lances or knocked flat in the ensuing melee. The sheer number of spent shell casings and LEAPs cartridges scattered across the deck made it nearly impossible to find stable footing.

Firefly scanned the deck. Had they made it to the cargo? Were there more waiting below deck? Firefly burst into the cabin, kicking a dead griffon through the hatch and out of the way. Her blade snapped open and repeater swept across the compartment. Talon corpses lay on the floor, bearing blade marks and close-ranged aether burn. ARC crew lay slumped against the bulkheads or face down at their stations. The ship remained eerily silent.

Her eyes fell upon the floor hatch leading into the cargo hold, a hatch which was conspicuously open. Firefly dove into the hatch. Her repeater swept around the lower deck, her hooves and wings ready to propel her at any remaining Talon who dared to attack her. But there were none. Only the crate holding the artifact remained... a crate which was now open. Her eyes darted to the discarded lid and the crowbar that had been left on the deck.

Firefly rushed to the crate. The Talons couldn’t have gotten anywhere with it. She’d killed them before they had left the ship. A sulfurous smell lingered in the hold that turned Firefly’s stomach and burned her nostrils. What the hell was this thing? Finally her eyes fell upon the true cargo.

Firefly blinked. She rubbed cleared her goggles and looked again. She lifted up her goggles and rubbed her eyes and looked yet again. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She didn’t want to believe what she was seeing. Filling the crate from wall to wall was crushed rock from The Abyss. The sulfur smell was not some infernal artifact, but a consequence of the geology of the oasis. Rocks. Her unit had been slaughtered over rocks.

Another thought crossed Firefly’s mind. What if this was one of the decoys? What if one of the other ships had the real artifact? Firefly leaped up the ladder to the main deck. She’d have to clear each other ARC ships one by one. The Talons could not get the artifact. As she landed in the cabin, Firefly heard movement. A low groan came from somewhere within the cabin. Her repeater spooled and her sights darted from body to body. Was one of the Talons still alive?

“Help me..." the voice rasped.

Firefly looked down at her hooves. A fallen Talon lay there, his rifle slung and his sidearm and blade drawn. He was dead for certain, surely from point-blank scattergun shots judging by the charring on his midsection. But beneath him, something stirred. Firefly caught a glimpse of black and white striping moving.

“Siki!” She grunted as she grabbed the corpse and rolled it off the zebra. “Are you all right?”

“Barely. That bastard shot me in the legs before I got him.”

Siki groaned and slowly slinked backwards, extricating herself from beneath her former foe. Firefly bit her tongue as Siki propped herself up against the bulkhead. Wounds from bullets and spall marred her hind legs, wounds which continued to slowly weep blood even as they spoke. Firefly stood up and ripped the first aid tin from the bulkhead, breaking it open and grabbing gauze with her teeth.

“Commander, you’re hurt,” Siki said, finally noticing Firefly’s wound.

“Flesh wound,” Firefly grunted. “If we don’t stop this bleeding, you won’t have time to worry about me.”

“Where’s everyone else?”

Firefly shook her head as she bandaged Siki’s wounds. “Dead.”

“The other ARC ships,” Siki said. “You have to get to them. Don’t waste time on me!”

“I need you alive, Siki,” Firefly countered. “We need radar and comms or we don’t stand a chance.”

“But--”

“No buts,” Firefly said as she extended a hoof. “C’mon. Let’s get you back in the saddle.”

Siki looked at Firefly’s hoof, then to Firefly, a look of bewilderment crossing her face for a moment. Finally, she gripped Firefly’s hoof and pulled herself level. She met Firefly’s gaze. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Just Firefly.” Firefly chuckled as she helped carry Siki back to her console. “I hate titles.”

“Secure this ship. I want everything on lock for the Colonel when she arrives.”

Firefly froze. The radio call came through loud and clear, but it was not any voice she recognized. Firefly looked to Siki, who quickly put a hoof to her lips in a shushing motion. It was not coming from within her ship, so where did it come from? She got her answer when Siki pointed frantically at the radio.

“How are we hearing their comms?” Firefly whispered.

“The audio switch must be pressed on one of the ARC ship radios,” Siki whispered back. “The microphone is picking up their conversation in the main cabin!”

With her free hoof, Siki clicked a button on the console’s recording deck, activating its tape recorder. “If they reveal operational data, we’re going to need it to hit back. I’m recording this.”

Heavy footfalls echoed through the cabin, footfalls far louder than mere paw and claw. Interspersed between was the distinct clatter of armor plate and load carrying equipment as its bearer moved. There was an audible shuffle as the Talon soldiers straightened up.

“Officer on deck!”

“Report.” The voice was thick and husky, edgy but powerful, all hints pointing to a commander.

Cindermane. Firefly bristled. Cindermane had come to inspect the cargo herself. What the hell were they carrying that was important enough for Cindermane herself to oversee the operation.

“All ARC ships have been secured. We’re waiting on Red Moon flight to clear remaining resistance.”

“The squad on this ship must have checked in already,” Siki whispered. “They don’t know we’re here.”

“And the package?”

The soldier hesitated, not wanting to deliver bad news to his CO. “The package isn’t here, ma’am. All ships reported empty. Decoys.”

There was a deep sigh of consternation, followed by a beat of silence as Cindermane contemplated the problem. “Return to the ships. We’re done here.”

Firefly’s hoof slammed the deck. She was livid. They’d both been played. There was no cargo. There was no artifact. The entire mission was a bust. Someone would pay for this massacre. Firefly would make them pay.

Before Siki could stop her, Firefly grabbed the console microphone and shouted. “CINDERMANE! I know you can hear me!”

There was a pause for breath; it was clear Firefly had surprised them. The slow, deliberate footfalls of Ironclad boots on airship deck rang across the airwaves until finally, Cindermane picked up the mic. “And who would you be?”

“I’m the mare who’s going to kill you,” Firefly growled.

“Bold words.” Cindermane spoke purposefully, with calculated precision. Her words held a cold edge in stark contrast to Firefly’s own blazing vitriol. “Fool’s words.”

“Come and say that again to my blade, bitch,” Firefly snarled. “COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN!”

“I don’t have time for your games, little pony,” Cindermane said without missing a beat. “Consider it fortunate the time spent to kill you now would be time wasted.”

Firefly gritted her teeth. No matter how ferocious her reprisal, Cindermane wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. Then again, it was to be expected. She was a veteran of both the Continental War and the Indrekan Insurrection. No one who had survived both could possibly be a coward.

“Ma’am,” one of the Talon soldiers cut in. “We’ve located Major Ørnengaard.”

“And?”

“He’s dead, ma’am. One of our teams just recovered his body.”

The name suddenly clicked in Firefly’s head. Major Gunnar Ørnengaard, the Knight. He was the Ironclad she’d killed. Firefly keyed the radio again. “Damn right he’s dead. I don’t do half-assed kills, Cindermane.”

Her retort was enough to give Cindermane momentary pause. “Who are you really?”

“The name is Firefly. Remember it,” Firefly snapped. Venom dripped from every word as Firefly growled her threat. “I’m coming for you, Cindermane. I will make you pay for everything you’ve done here today.”

“Come and get me.” There was no derision in Cindermane’s voice, only the cold, grim weight of challenge.

The radio clicked off.

Firefly looked out the open hatch of their stricken ship. The silhouettes of griffons lifting off the other ARC ships could be seen to the west. Up above, the exchange of tracer fire dwindled to nearly nothing. Flight by flight, the Talons peeled back, with the gleaming armor of the Ironclads forming the final wave. A few last bursts of violet lashed out at retreating Talons before the Timberwolves halted their attack.

“What’s going on?” Thunderlane radioed. “The Talons are retreating!”

“Firefly what did you do?” Eastwind’s shock was clear.

Firefly stared blankly at the horizon, the same thoughts running millions of laps in her head. There was no artifact. Every life lost, every drop of blood spilt, everything she’d poured into this mission was for nothing. Every emotion that swarmed her mind in the aftermath of the combat adrenaline rush overwhelmed her in an instant. She was livid. She was terrified. She was tired. She was sorrowful. She was faint.

Faint.

Firefly put a hoof to the wound on her neck. It came away bloody. Her knees felt weak. Her vision greyed in and out. She tried to splay her wings to steady herself but they refused to move. She was only vaguely aware of Siki’s concerned cries as her knees buckled. There was barely pain as they struck the deck, but the strike of her skull sent agonizing, electric jolts through her head. Firefly silently mouthed before drifting off into the listless black.

They were empty.

13. Demon

View Online

“I figured I’d find you out here.”

Rays of fading sunlight cast long shadows from the flight deck of the Sovereign. The deepest of them fell across the walkways that ran beneath the deck lip. There, shielded from the last light of the day and the engine wash of ARC ships returning from patrol stood a lone pegasus. Her coat was a light cobalt, made darker in the penumbra of the mighty vessel. Her mane and tail, both a dark navy, wafted gently in the wind.

“You know me too well, Fi.” Powder Blue turned her head to Firefly and offered a smile.

Firefly smirked as she trotted up to her wingmate. She reached into her uniform jacket and removed a cigarette case, withdrawing one with her lips before slipping the case back into her pocket. “Should have asked me if you were coming out for a smoke.”

“I see my badgering you to quit hasn’t gotten through that thick head of yours.”

“You know me too well, Powder.”

The retort was enough to draw a laugh from both of them. Firefly drew her lighter, leaning on the railing of the walkway as she lit her cigarette. Her focus on taking a drag did not distract her entirely from her friend. “I know that look. What’s on your mind?”

For a moment, Powder was silent. Her eyes looked to the horizon where darkness had fallen upon the mountains of northernwestern Aquellia. Powder sighed. “They said they were going to send us home, that the war was over.”

“And they lied,” Firefly said, blowing smoke out her nostrils. “Wouldn’t be the first time military intelligence pissed in our porridge.”

“But the ANA surrender went public two weeks ago. The Armistice was signed last week.”

“ANA command surrendered, but the fanatics didn’t. Now we get to put ‘em down,” Firefly said matter-of-factly.

Powder raised an eyebrow. “They’re griffons, Fi, not hydras.”

“You sure about that? Aureus, Indrek, and Saraneighvo say otherwise. The true believers are a menace. We kill ‘em all and then we can go home for good.”

“And how does that make us better than them?”

“Because we offered them peace. They told us to shove it. It’s pretty clear they’d rather die than surrender. Me? I’m happy to oblige them.”

“I hate it,” Powder growled through gritted teeth. “It’s against everything Equestria ever stood for. What happened to friendship and harmony, huh?”

“They died at the end of Operation Goodwill.”

It was callous to be sure. But Firefly had no patience for politics and philosophy. Goodwill ended when the ANA massacred the entire refugee camp at the center of the operation. If they were willing to burn civilians, if they were willing to kill her friends without remorse, if they were willing to become monsters for whatever nonsense they believed in, they willingly gave up their right to exist. Firefly would happily slaughter them wholesale.

“Look,” Powder sighed. “I’m no ANA apologist. But we aren’t here for scorched earth and genocide, either.”

“Ever the romantic, still,” Firefly chuckled darkly. “I’m surprised OCS, Neighvarrone, and Argent didn’t beat it all out of you.”

“Not all of us are wired like you, Fi.”

“Ruthless government-sponsored sociopath?” The self-roast was punctuated with a bitter smirk.

“I was going to say stoic extraordinaire, but I see my tact is — once again — misplaced,” Powder said with a giggle. “I just want this thing to be over so I can go home and do what I want for a change.”

“Amen.”

There was a pause as Powder seemed to mull over her words. “What you do plan on doing after the war?”

“A little premature, don’t you think?” Firefly asked, raising an eyebrow. “Given that we’ll probably be in combat again in under 12 hours?”

“I didn’t put a timetable on it, did I?”

“Point.” Firefly took a long drag on her cigarette, allowing it to hang out the corner of her mouth while she talked out the other. “I want a proper Filly Cheese from Blackberry Bourbon’s back home with the biggest, fattest order of hay fries she can cook up, and bottles of beer one after another until I pass out!”

“Classy.”

“Hey, I’m a girl who knows what she wants! And I want the big lady to fix me a real meal after all the shit they feed us on deployment!” Firefly finished her last drag before flicking the spent butt overboard. “What about you, Powder? Got a bottle to dust off at home? A fine piece of ass to ride into the sunset?”

Powder bit her lip and shuffled her rear hooves. “It’s stupid.”

“Oh c’mon!” Firefly rolled her eyes. “How long have we known each other?”

“Since you punched a quarry eel to save my sorry ass in grade school?”

A subtle smirk crossed Firefly’s face. It was a good memory for many reasons: she’d made the best friend she’d ever had, she’d earned her cutie mark, she’d pulled awesome maneuvers and fought a vicious monster, and she’d gotten to shut down the queen bee who had left Powder to die and Firefly to take the fall for it. Perhaps she was selfish for seeing that day as one of her best, but the end results were undeniable. She would not have found her best friend or her calling had she not done what she’d done.

“How long ago was that?” Firefly said, sidling up to Powder.

“A long time?”

“And have I ever laughed at your feelings?”

“Never...” she sighed, finally conceding. “Fine. When I get home... I just want to hug my parents again, you know?”

There was a beat of silence, enough so that Powder’s ear flicked and she glanced quizzically at Firefly. Firefly let out a long sigh before speaking again. “Right. I know you guys are close. I swear your foot locker is about to explode from all the letters they sent.”

“Yeah. Mom and dad were always supportive of me in school. They were super surprised when I enlisted, but stuck with me the whole way through. I don’t know where I’d be without them.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Firefly snorted. Realizing her gaffe and not wanting to appear insolent, she immediately softened her tone. “I never knew what it was like to have that.”

“I know. You said your parents were always distant.”

“I was a hoof-full as a filly, even I’ll admit that.” Firefly stared off into the horizon as she spoke. “I guess I never grew out of it. Celestia bless ‘em for trying, but I never really connected with them like they wanted me to, you know?”

“How long has it been since you’ve called home?” Powder leaned in, laying a hoof on Firefly’s shoulder.

Firefly shook her head. “Not since first deployment.”

“Really?”

“I guess it really wasn’t home, so I didn’t see much point in going back.”

“Family is important, Fi.”

“That may be true, but friends are more important. We choose our friends.”

“That doesn’t mean we throw away what we’re given.” Powder gently nuzzled Firefly’s cheek. “Promise me you’ll visit them after we’re discharged.”

“But why?”

“Because I hate seeing you burn bridges.” Powder looked directly to Firefly. “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me.”

Firefly shuffled uncomfortably at Powder’s gaze, finally breaking eye contact and looking down at the deck.
“Fine, I promise. But only if you promise to get piss drunk with me after we get out!”

“That I can do!” Powder chuckled.

******

Flashes of light exploded and faded in front of Firefly. Her unseeing eyes darted back and forth between amorphous patches of color. Unhearing ears alternated between obnoxious ringing and swiftly passing mishmashes of ambient noise. Somewhere between them was barely intelligible speech.

“She’s conscious. Barely. Rapid pulse, weak heartbeat. SUKA BLYAT! She’s lost a lot of blood. Prep for transfusion!”

It was a voice Firefly didn’t recognize. It couldn’t have been ARC crew or her accompanying squads. They were all dead.

Dead.

Because of her.

“You can’t just magic her back together?” Sunburst was frantic, almost comically so. The old sire was going soft! If Firefly wasn’t the one on the gurney, she probably would have pointed it out herself. But she was in no such position. She wasn’t even collected enough to use her own body.

“Healing magic doesn’t work if she’s already dead, Sunburst!” Eastwind chided. Windy. Always the voice of reason when shit hit the fan.

“I will magic her back together after transfusion! Now get out of the way!”

“Hang in there, Firefly. We’ve got you!” Thunderlane’s voice distorted into empty space as the world faded again.

******

“Hang in there, Firefly. I’ve got you!”

“Beam defense, on my mark!” Firefly banked into a hard left turn as green tracers flashed past. “Hit it!”

Firefly rolled onto her right wingtip and pulled hard to reverse direction. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tracers shift with the griffon’s attempt to follow her turn. A sudden squawk of surprise burst from behind her as Powder’s aether lances pierced the target. Firefly leveled off. Powder rolled up on her wing, repeater still smoking from her latest victory.

“Wolf Two splash one bandit! Enemy patrol eliminated!”

“Copy that, Wolf Two,” Storm Warden confirmed. “Scope is clear. Return to prior heading and continue screening the fleet.”

The Timberwolves formed up on Firefly, continuing their flight onward. Arrayed around her was an awesome, terrifying sight. Airships of all sizes, each bristling with guns and proudly flying the colors of their native lands formed the outline of a massive flying spear point. In between the vessels flitted the shapes of combat fliers screening their home ships from incursions. The ships from Aquellian loyalist battalions, Royal Equestrian Army airborne, and Hesperian expeditionary forces were all assembled for one singular purpose: the destruction of the ANA at Valdus. Firefly was not often moved emotionally, but the sheer scale of the display of might was enough to stir the heart.

“Wolf Lead, this is Wolf Three with SITREP,” Eastwind radioed in. “Two bandits splashed, no casualties. Skirmishers keep testing our lines, but we haven’t seen any moves against the fleet.”

“Guess not all of them have death wishes!” Sunburst chuckled.

“Just because they have a death wish doesn’t mean they’re idiots.” Firefly dryly countered Sunburst. “There’s no way a handful of scouts can take down a capital ship by themselves. They’ll be spotting for artillery or missile guidance. Keep an eye out for TAC and FiST units. Last thing we need is a forward observer with a good view.”

ANA scouts had been probing their vanguard for the past hour. There was no way they didn’t know the fleet was coming. It was only a matter of time before an ambush was sprung. It was up to the Timberwolves to ensure the front line was all they saw. Thus the cat and mouse game continued.

“Timberwolf, incoming update from FleetCOM. ETA for the last phase line is under an hour. Stand by to escort SEAD teams to pre-selected objectives.”

“I thought we were the vanguard, not the foalsitters,” came the wry quip from Sunburst.

“Can it, Sunshine,” Firefly growled. “Roger that, Storm Warden. Standing by for SEAD escort.”

“Alter heading to zero-one-one and rendezvous with --”

The ARC operator was interrupted by a loud boom-CRACK as the sky ahead blossomed into a field of flak. Black pock marks tore the air and sent razor-edged shrapnel whistling through the gaps between ships. From the flanks, flashes of yellow-orange lit the otherwise featureless mountains below, casting ghostly shadows against the pillars of smoke from missile launch trails.

“Radar warning is lit! We’re ranged!”

“Starboard engine is down! Put out that fire!”

“I have casualties on the bridge! Get me a corpsmare!”

“Vampire, vampire! Incoming missile! Brace for impact!”

Casualty reports, tactical callouts, fragmentary orders, and cries of surprise and pain flooded the airwaves. Firefly snarled a barely intelligible curse. She hadn’t expected it so soon. The adrenaline had already started surging when the orders came through.

“Timberwolf, this Storm Warden. Incoming comms from the Sovereign. Patching you through now.”

“This is Wolf Lead,” Firefly keyed her mic. “Send traffic.”

“This Sovereign Actual.” The weathered voice of Admiral Flyleaf filled the airwaves, immediately drawing Firefly to attention.

“Admiral! What can I do for you, ma’am?”

Flyleaf had been with them since the abortive assault on Argent Battery in the opening days of the War. In spite of her position as commanding officer, she had shattered the barrier of contempt that Firefly had erected to deflect scrutiny from the higher-ups. If they were flying into the jaws of hell, there was no one else she’d rather have leading them in.

“Timberwolf, I have special tasking for you. We’ve got ANA sapper teams attempting to infiltrate the formation. I’m rerouting you to intercept. Manticore team will assist. Alter heading to zero-five-four and ascend to angels twelve. Look for your targets there.”

“Understood, ma’am. Timberwolves are oscar mike.” Firefly banked to come about on her new heading and motioned to her squad with the ‘rally up’ hoof sign. “Form up wedge heavy right and ascend to angels twelve.”

The formation climbed until it cleared the thin wispy clouds above the arrayed fleet. Ahead of them the maw of hell yawned. The sky ahead was devoid of cloud cover, but pocked with black bursts of flak and the snaking propellant trails of rockets. Their path took them directly over the wings of the spearhead.

“Contact!” Sunburst radioed. “ANA scouts at eleven o’clock low. Orders?”

“Cleared to engage,” Firefly ordered. “Timberwolves, weapons free! It’s time to hunt!”

"Victory confirmed. Good kill, Timberwolf One."

Nirvana.

Peace. Stillness. OBLIVION.

******

“Firefly!”

Azure eyes snapped open. Pupils constricted to pinpoints. Adrenaline flooded her veins. As the world snapped back into focus, Firefly suddenly realized her throat was raw and her mouth parched. Her lungs clawed for air as they filled themselves with one gasping, wheezing breath. She’d been screaming.

“It’s okay! We’re okay! YOU’RE okay!” Eastwind spoke quickly but firmly.

Firefly’s breaths came heavy; her hooves flailing and thrashing against Eastwind as she tried to fight her way loose. In her half-awake state, however she could do little more than knock the sheet off the infirmary bed. Eastwind’s hooves and chest pressed against her own to hold her down until she finally ceased her struggle. Thoughts raced through her mind. How long had she been out? Where were they? How had they gotten out of the canyon?

“ZAJEBIS! Haha!” Firefly’s head jerked to the source of the noise. “She pulled through after all!”

The cheering mare in the corner bore the marks of medical labor; an apron stained in blood, a worn headscarf covering over a tied back mane, and a facemask that rested around her neck. Firefly looked left at the utility cart where mangled pieces of flechettes rested in a steel basin, traces of blood and tissue still fresh upon them.

“Welcome aboard the Sova, my friend!” The verdigris mare’s accent was distinct, the name of the ship all but confirming that both were from a detachment of Stallian Guard Rangers.

Before she could react, Firefly was nearly picked up off the bed. Her hooves flailed wildly for a moment before she realized that Eastwind had embraced her. Slowly, cautiously, she returned the hug, closing her eyes as she finally relaxed.

“Where are we?” Firefly said as Eastwind released her.

“The Sova’s med bay. Stallian Guard Rangers picked up our distress signal while they were running CAPs. We’re on our way to rendezvous with the Majestic now.”

“You’re not dead.”

“Thanks to you,” Eastwind said warmly. “Whatever you did down there scared the Talons off.”

“No..." Firefly could feel the bile rising in her throat. She loved seeing Eastwind happy, but this was wrong, all wrong. She didn’t know. She really didn’t know. “That wasn’t it. That wasn’t it at all!”

“What do you mean?” Eastwind was genuinely puzzled, but the nervous ear flick and bristling of her coat showed that she was in sync with Firefly’s dis-ease.

“The Talons.” Firefly rasped, her heart preparing to explode out of her chest. “I didn’t scare them off. I didn’t break them by killing the Commander. They left because they didn’t find what they were looking for!”

The collective realization sweeping across the room wiped out any sense of joviality from Firefly’s recovery. Eastwind was the first to speak. “The artifact...”

“There is no artifact,” Firefly shouted, eyes wild with both bewilderment and rage. She slammed a hoof onto the bed frame. “It was a ruse, all of it!”

“Why didn’t Rafale tell us?” Eastwind asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” Firefly’s voice grew louder with each word uttered. “But I swear to Celestia I will get it out of her if I have to tear her leg off and beat her with it!”

“I’d love to help, but we can’t do shit about it right now,” Sunburst said bitterly.

“We’ll deal with this when we get back to the ship,” Eastwind said. “Get the CAG ride her ass if we don’t get a straight answer.”

“The CAG won’t be needed,” Firefly said darkly.

A grunt of consternation drew Firefly’s attention back to the corpsmare. “Pozhaluysta. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Firefly sighed. “Sorry. Almost dying kind of puts me in a bad mood. Who do I get to thank for patching me up?”

“Just call me Chainka.”

“You do good work, Chainka. Glad you got to me before the severed jugular did.”

“Hah!” Chainka immediately brightened. “You really think that was what was killing you?”

“I was slashed in the neck by a gods damned Ironclad. I’m pretty damn sure that’s what almost killed me!”

“Not even close.” Chainka was now giddy with excitement, as if the prospect of getting to explain something was all it took to reinvigorate her.

“If he hit your jugular, you would be dead in seconds. That was flesh wound. These,” she waved a hoof toward the utility cart basin, “I had to dig these out of your chest and stomach. Bet you didn’t even know they were there tearing up your insides!”

Firefly glanced down at her stomach. True to Chainka’s word, the hair was entirely missing there, having been shaved away during surgery, leaving only a few scars. Her eyes darted back to the flechettes in the basin. She’d dodged those, hadn’t she? Had she really been outplayed in the dogfight with Cindermane? Firefly shook her head in a vain effort to clear her mind.

“How did you patch me up without leaving a mess?” She said instead, attempting to redirect her own thoughts. “No offense, but you’re no unicorn.”

“You think unicorn the only kind of pony with healing magic?” Chainka huffed. “Chepukha! Maybe letchka have atlus bubble in head to keep her afloat, da? Earth pony magic is even better at healing if we put our minds to it!”

“You’re an asshole and I love you,” Firefly chuckled.

“Oh, now you are sweet?” Chainka rolled her eyes in mock disdain as she snarked. “I would demand drinks be bought, but I would rather not be drinking piss like you southlanders seem to enjoy.”

“Honey, I will drink you under the gods damned table.” Firefly purred. “Find me after all this shit is over and I’ll prove it!”

“You are on, letchka. I will find you and then we will drink!”

“Did I miss the party?” A familiar voice broke from the medical bay hatch.

Firefly turned to the new arrival. “Roshina... when the hell did you get here?”

“I’ve been here,” the dragon smirked. “Typhon bagged everything up and stabilized you before the Sova arrived.”

“Did anyone else make it?”

Roshina paused. Firefly held her breath. But the dragon could only shake her head sadly. “I’m sorry, Firefly. We did what we could, but there were no other survivors on either side. The Talons recovered their dead and dying and didn’t bother with ours.”

“Rafale will answer for this.”

“And Cindermane as well. They were not just your comrades, but mine. My team recovered the ARC ships. We will pull any telemetry we can from their flight recorders. There might be something we can use against the Talons.”

“Well, glad to see we have a happy little family here,” Chainka snickered. “I will leave you be. I need to give report to the commander.”

“Thank you, Chainka,” said Eastwind. Chainka gave a dainty wave and a hearty chuckle as she left.

With the doctor gone, Thunderlane turned to Firefly. “Firefly, I need to ask you something. After Chainka put you back together, you started talking in your sleep.”

Firefly raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“It wasn’t just random mumblings. It was tactical callouts, orders, the works. You were living out a dogfight in your head and shouting it to us in the infirmary.”

“And?”

“And you were screaming until we woke you up.”

“I almost died from blood loss! Maybe I was screaming from the fact that my insides were torn up like hell?”

“That was AFTER Chainka patched you up and pumped you full of pain meds.” Thunderlane took a deep breath before meeting Firefly’s gaze again. “It was Valdus, wasn’t it?”

Firefly could only growl in response. Thunderlane was undaunted. Instead he leaned in expression soft and hooves open without threat.

“Look, jefa. I know you don’t like talking about it, but I need to know what’s going on. We’re a team. I want to help you, but you have to help me understand.”

Firefly looked to Eastwind, then Sunburst, then Roshina and finally back to Thunderlane. She sighed. There was no getting around it.

“Fine. You may as well hear it from me rather than Rafale digging up my old file. Gather round, everypony, because it’s time you hear about what really happened at Valdus.”

******

Valdus was the biggest shit show of the entire war and it wasn’t even technically part of the War. The actual battle was fought after the armistice was signed. The last of the Aquellian National Army holed up in Valdus in northern Aquellia. They turned the whole damned city into a fortress; guns, missiles, CAPs, a defense fleet, the works. When Alliance command tried to negotiate a surrender, they failed. We had to fight.

After we broke the defensive line south of the city, the fleet faced a ten klick gauntlet of death from AA and missile systems until they hit the city proper. With the fortification layout and the terrain there was only one way in: straight ahead.

Timberwolf flight was assigned as combat flier cover for the spearhead of the assault. We’d gone about halfway into the gauntlet when the Bane took a direct hit from a Charybdis antiship missile. We were instructed to escort the Bane back to friendly lines, but shit hit the fan before we could pull back. The ANA saw they had an opening and threw everything they had into the breach.

"Storm Warden, this is Tyrant's Bane, we've taken damage and our deck guns are offline. Requesting combat flier cover as we withdraw."

"Understood, Tyrant's Bane. Timberwolf flight, new tasking," a voice crackled in her earpiece. "You're to cover the Tyrant's Bane as she falls back. Alter your heading to zero-two-three and look for hostiles at angels seven."

"Roger that, Storm Warden," Firefly answered, tipping her wings to come about on the new compass heading. "Timberwolf ascending to seven thousand meters and vectoring for intercept."

"Manticore flight, I need you to backstop Timberwolf's advance. Alter heading to one-one-eight and descend to ten angels. Close the line and hold the perimeter until reinforcements arrive."

"Copy that, Storm Warden, Manticore is on the move."

"All Timberwolf elements, form up on me!" Firefly broadcasted.

Appearing on command, the three other members of Timberwolf squadron ascended, linking up in formation with Firefly in the lead. The flight of pegasi floated above the flak while carefully scanning the skies below. Just above the last set of storm barriers off the bow of the Tyrant's Bane, Firefly could make out black shapes against the backdrop of clouds.

"There's the Bane!" the declaration from her wingpony confirmed Firefly's observation. "Tyrant's Bane, this is Wolf Two. Be advised, bandits closing in from your one o'clock, high. Clear your decks! Timberwolf is rolling in guns hot!"

Powder Blue was my wingpony. We grew up together in Fillydelphia. Who’d have thunk that shy, nerdy Powder would make an Army officer?

"Timberwolves, you are weapons free!" Firefly barked. "Close in and light 'em up!"

"Timberwolf, this is Storm Warden. Be advised, you have additional bandits inbound. Keep an eye out for attackers from above!"

"Understood, Storm Warden," Firefly growled.

"Eastwind, Sunburst, I need you to take out that assault team. Powder and I will handle the escorts."

Eastwind waved in acknowledgement, nodding to Sunburst before both peeled off from the formation to attack. Firefly and Powder continued their ascent, flapping hard to gain altitude. As they closed, the two birdlike silhouettes above banked in unison, folding their wings as they went into a sharp stoop. Unfazed, Firefly spun left, slipping between the two griffons as they dove. Powder mirrored Firefly's maneuver, deftly avoiding a midair collision.

"Powder, take the one on the left, I'll take the one on the right!" Firefly ordered.

"I'm on it!" Powder banked hard and peeled left, diving after her target.

Timberwolf was one of the best there was in the REA Air Corps, and Powder was no exception. I could always trust her to have my back no matter how bad it got. She always said she owed me for saving her from a quarry eel when we were fillies, but she paid it back over and over during the war.

"Timberwolf One, bandit splashed!" she radioed.

POP POP POP POP POP POP POP.

We never trained to fight Ironclads. They were so far outside the normal realm of combat that some of our guys thought they were a myth made up to scare the nuggets. It wasn’t until after the war that we got a lot of intel on how Ironclad units actually operated from the Loyalists. Needless to say, any tactics we used against them were made up on the spot.

“Timberwolf, be advised, two more bandits inbound on your position,” Storm Warden radioed, “Both Ironclads!”

“Tell me something I don't know!” she snapped. “Powder, heads up, you've got an Ironclad headed your way!”

"Going to need a little help here! This guy's not going down easy and I'm taking MG fire from range!"

"Eastwind, Sunburst!" Firefly keyed her radio. "I need you to help Powder with an Ironclad! Storm Warden, get them a vector!"

"Dammit!" Firefly frantically switched channels while swiveling her head to track the Ironclad through the storm of flak and tracers. "Storm Warden! I need backup! Where's Manticore?"

"Manticore is currently engaged at the perimeter of your AO."

I was stuck. If I had Eastwind and Sunburst disengage to help Powder, we’d lose the Bane. If I recalled Manticore, we’d open a hole in the damn line. So it came down to me. I was the only one who could save Powder.

"Hurry your flank up, Firefly! They're on me!"

"I'm working on it! Stay alive!"

I’ll admit it. Being a Timberwolf was a point of pride. We were the biggest badasses in the Royal Equestrian Army. We scored so many air to air victories against ANA forces that everyone thought we were untouchable. A couple of the older fliers had a saying, “Those who survive a long time on the battlefield start to think they're invincible.” We thought we were, too.

Mere meters from the Ironclad, Firefly pulled the trigger. A muted click behind her left shoulder was immediately followed by a loud BANG as her ballistic lance fired. Her payload deployed, Firefly broke sharply to the right, standing herself on a wingtip and swinging her legs and tail around as hard as she could in an effort to get out of the way.

"Firefly! Where the hell are you!"

"Hang on, Powder!"

"I'm coming, Powder! I'm —" Firefly didn't get a chance to finish.

"POWDER!"

I’d seen so many ponies die. I’d made so many griffons die. They were all numbers, fodder for the meatgrinder, statistics for the bean counters to count and the brass to bloviate with. But Powder. Powder wasn’t another number. She was more than that. She was more than a friend. She was my own flesh and blood.

Light faded to darkness. Warmth vanished into freezing cold. Clear sky gave way to black snow. The earth below had disappeared, replaced by the gaping maw of an infinite abyss. Into the choking miasma of gunsmoke and combusted aether, Firefly dove.

The darkness itself threatened to smother her. In the grim twilight that remained, a tiny sliver of color caught Firefly’s eye. Hope turned to rage as the flashing light resolved itself into polished gold filigree. The Ironclad was still airborne.

Firefly snarled. Her repeater spat hot aether again, this time from well within effective range. Violet tracers lit the darkness, sending wraith-like shadows skittering across the storm barriers and debris falling from above. Her rounds hit home, the black metal glowing briefly molten orange before self-extinguishing.

The Ironclad retaliated in kind. Its repeater thundered mightily, the massive muzzle flash almost blinding Firefly’s barely-adapted dark vision. It was too close to dodge. Firefly gritted her teeth and braced herself.

CRUNCH.

The ballistic paneling in her vest disintegrated, catching the first bullet and turning a fatal wound into an ugly bruise. Firefly grunted and rolled with the impact. The second round was not so kind. A sharp pain tore at Firefly’s shoulder as the bullet found flesh. The third round screamed through the air by her face, tearing her goggles clean off. The fourth round ripped through her left ear, deafening her and matting her neck with fresh blood.

Before the fifth round could be fired, Firefly lashed out at her foe. She roared in a mixture of pain and anger as bare hooves came into contact with the hot metal of the Ironclad’s gun barrel. The strike was enough to knock him off balance and send the rest of his burst sailing into empty space. The Ironclad attempted to wrest control of his weapon back from Firefly, but she was now too close for him to make proper use of it.

Firefly’s right hoof shot forward, adamantite blade piercing the armored left lens of the Ironclad’s helm. The griffon screeched in pain as Firefly withdrew her bloodied hoof. Exploiting her opening, Firefly tore into her foe with a flurry of lightning-fast jabs and slashes. Over and over, her blade sparked against armor, the hungry edge seeking new weak points from which to draw blood.

Out of the corner of her eye, Firefly caught movement. Her blade lashed out, the point of it skewering the Ironclad’s wrist clean through, eliciting another unearthly shriek from her victim. The claw went limp and the revolver in its grasp spun away, forever lost to the abyss. Firefly tore her blade from the Ironclad’s arm and wound up a whirling strike against her stricken opponent.

The Ironclad attempted to block with its good arm, but a swift kick to the elbow knocked it away, exposing her target. With one vicious, slicing motion Firefly cleaved through the griffon’s neck with her blade. Shimmering beads of gore burst from the Ironclad’s severed veins, the shining ring glinting ghostly red in the glow of lightning and flame. Though her enemy was surely finished, Firefly followed through, using her wings and tail to alter her axis of attack into a rising vertical strike that jammed her blade under its helmet. The force of impact cleanly separated head from body, sending both spinning wildly into the abyss.

Her foe was dead. But her trial was far from over. Below, the running lights of an aetheric repeater faintly glinted. Powder was still in freefall.

When I was a filly, I loved comic books. I wanted to be just like the heroes in them. I wanted to do something for the world. Powder was the first pony to tell me I could do that. I could be a hero. I could make a difference. I could save someone.

Firefly dove.

One hundred meters. Fifty meters. Twenty-five meters. Ten meters. As Firefly approached she could finally resolve Powder’s limply spiralling form. She reached out a hoof to grasp for her comrade, barely brushing a lock of Powder’s mane with her hoof.

BOOM.

The thunderous concussion of a bursting shell caught Firefly in the chest like the blow of a titanic hammer, sending her careening away. Firefly roared curses at the wind, splaying her wings and hooves to right herself. Every part of her body screamed in protest; it seemed every hair from her coat and every feather from her wings would be torn out by the force of impact.

Defiant against the air itself, Firefly righted herself, reversed direction, and powered through through the roiling ball of flame and metal. Shrapnel tore at her flesh. Smoke stung her nostrils. Turbulence clawed at her wings and tail. Firefly exploded out the other side of the hellish portal and continued her descent.

Down through the black sea of death and destruction Firefly dove. The only light now came from ghostly flashes of yellow-orange explosions and sporadic bursts of lightning from the storm barriers. The darkness was more oppressive than it had ever been. Every breath was labored as ash and smoke burned at her lungs. Below, she could barely make out Powder’s limp form still fluttering into the blackness.

A nearby lightning flash lit the floating form of a crippled airship that was falling directly in her path, a burned out husk spitting purple fire and bleeding black smoke. Firefly flicked her tail, matching speed and position with the wild gyrations of the stricken vessel. A radar mast whistled just over her head. Loose cabling whip-CRACKED as it tore through wooden decking and un-reinforced hull, missing her belly by mere meters. Firefly ducked under the prow of the ship as it finally spun away.

One hundred meters. Fifty meters. Twenty-five meters. Ten meters. Firefly reached out. Her hooves touched flesh. Adjusting her stance to cradle her fallen friend, Firefly wrapped her hooves around Powder and splayed her wings to slowly arrest their fall.

The battle above faded away to the solemn beats of Firefly’s wings. Slowly, gently they fluttered, each flap bleeding away deadly speed from the fall. Finally, Firefly stopped. The compass stopped gyrating. The altitude gauge stopped spinning. The snow stopped falling. The flames from the dead ships winked out, leaving only Firefly and Powder in the darkness.

As she silently hovered in place, Firefly could hear a lone heartbeat. Her own. She could feel the rising and falling of breath upon her chest. Her own. She could feel the racing of adrenaline-fueled blood. Her own. The only life in the abyss was her own. Firefly closed her eyes, each one brimming with tears that now streaked down her ash-stained face.

She was too late.

Firefly would scream but the breath caught in her throat. She would curse but the words evaporated from her tongue. She was no hero. She couldn’t make a difference. She couldn’t save anyone.

Grief enveloped her, smothering the last of the light and beckoning her to step into the darkness. Her body ached. Her heart tired. Her mind begged for sleep. It would be easy, so easy, for her to stop everything, to fold her wings and close her eyes, to cradle Powder and embrace oblivion.

NO.

In the darkness, a single thought rang out. No. She was not yet dead. She was not yet done. Where once was sorrow there was now anger. Like a spark in kindling, her rage flared hotly, shining bright in the midst of her despair. Ire purged the ache from her limbs. Indignation jolted her mind from slumber. Fury charged her veins with righteous might.

How dare they.

HOW DARE THEY.

How dare they strike at Powder. How dare they strike at her. She could not give up. She would not give up.

Her lungs still drew breath. Her veins still ran with blood. Her blade was still sharp. They had not won. She would not let them.

She could not save Powder. But she could most certainly avenge her. She was not finished. She could still be a hero. She could still make a difference.

Firefly opened her eyes and launched herself skyward.

Out of darkness came Firefly. Out of darkness came Powder. Through the layers of fading twilight they rose. Through the circles of death and destruction they rose. One wingbeat after another blew black snow and acrid smoke from the abyss. They clawed their way back up from the deepest depths, slowly at first but picking up speed until finally they shot up through the wispy cloud layer that hid the terrible blackness below.

“Tyrant’s Bane, this is Timberwolf Lead.” Firefly’s voice was invigorated but calm, eerily so. “I’m coming aboard. Prepare to receive one casualty.”

“Understood, Wolf Lead.” The radio operator was puzzled at the tone. “It’s the least we could do.”

Coming alongside the Bane, Firefly leveled off and matched speed. She banked slowly and maneuvered to descend upon the ship. Firefighting crew and medical staff were already scrambling around on deck, but all seemed to stop to watch as Firefly touched down. With the gentlest of motions, Firefly laid the limp form of Powder Blue upon the deck. She knelt down, her eyes hidden and her head bowed as if in reverence. The gathered crew remained silent, uncertain of what to do.

Firefly lifted her head. With a hoof, she moved to close Powder’s eyes. Finally, she looked to the nearest crewpony as she stood. “Take good care of her, sailor.”

“You’re wounded, ma’am!”

“Take good care of her, sailor,” She repeated, glaring directly into the crewpony’s eyes. The sailor recoiled at her glower before finally backing down.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Timberwolf, this is Storm Warden. Manticore team requests reinforcements. I have additional ANA forces moving to attack the breach left by the Bane. ETA imminent.”

Firefly keyed her radio again as she lifted off deck, giving Powder one last glance before powering forward. “Storm Warden, I’m on the way. Eastwind, Sunburst. I need you to backstop me.”

“What the hell happened?” Eastwind hammered Firefly with questions, pressing her for answers she was unwilling to give. “What are you doing?”

Firefly only spoke once. Her voice was deathly frigid, edged with grim determination. “I’m going to pay back what I owe.”

Eastwind’s protests faded away as Firefly adjusted her heading toward the breach. In the lull between the guns of the fleet and the blades of the griffon assault, Firefly briefly considered what was coming. She was bleeding badly from bullet and shrapnel wounds. Her ammunition was spent. Her wingpony was dead. In any other circumstance, this would be suicide.

But she knew she wouldn’t die. She couldn’t die. Until the debt was repaid, she knew she would continue to wander the skies, doomed to continue the slaughter.

Firefly reached underneath her belly and unclipped the harness that held her repeater and ballistic lance to her body. The empty lance tube whistled in the wind and the repeater beeped in protest before both were carried away in her slipstream. Firefly ripped the blood-matted flier’s cap off her head and threw it away, allowing the remainder of her mane to billow out behind her. All that remained was her and her blade. She was free. There was no tech to hold her back, no rules to recall her when fighting got too hot, and no being magical or mortal who could save the griffons from her coming wrath.

Pinpoint muzzle flashes shimmered before her in a dazzling display, a haunting lightshow before a grim tango. A fisher’s net of tracers closed upon her. Firefly gritted her teeth and dropped into a stoop. Expert maneuvering sent her twisting and turning between tracer streams, a tiny mote of pink in an angry black sky. When the opening volley finally petered out, Firefly pounced.

She roared a predatory roar, launching herself at the nearest griffon. Each swipe of her blade sparked blue lightning. Each strike of her hooves pealed thunder. A hurricane howled beneath her wings as she joined the slaughter.

One griffon fell. Then two. Then three. Bullets couldn’t touch her. Blades couldn’t harm her. She felt no pain and she knew no fear.

Four. Five. Six. Firefly’s weapon had taken on a mind of its own, the mesmerizing dance of gleaming adamantite putting to ruin all it touched. Faster and faster she whirled in wild dervish dance, her blade tracing gleaming paths of crimson across the sky.

Seven. Eight. Nine. Flesh wounds ripped into gaping gashes. Knife pricks tore into deep gouges. Each wound inflicted was more grievous than the last, each kill more grisly.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Firefly would scream, but her voice failed her. She would pause the slaughter for breath, but her lungs were aflame. She would halt the thunderous strike of hooves on flesh, but her entire body shrieked against it. She would stop the deadly dance of her blade, but the cold metal hungered for blood.

She did not scream. She roared in predatory triumph. She did not halt the carnage. She drew deep breaths of fire, metal, and death. She did not give in. She brought them what they deserved.

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen...

I don’t know what happened after I hit the griffon lines. Everything went fuzzy after the first kill. I just remember the rage. The anger. The hate.

It wasn’t like getting frustrated with a puzzle box or yelling at a nugget who’s full of themself. It was beyond that. Imagine being stabbed in the back. Imagine having your eyes pulled out of your skull. Imagine being set on fire. Imagine being shot in the gut. For every moment I went without killing, all of those things were happening to me, over and over and over again, a million times a second. I wanted to die.

I thought maybe I could meet death if I threw myself in its face. So I flew headlong into the breach knowing that every griffon there would be gunning for me. But I didn’t die. I couldn’t die.

By the time Eastwind and Sunburst found me, the fleet had repelled the attack and moved on. They found me stabbing a dead griffon over and over again on the side of a storm barrier. The medics were amazed I was still alive with all the blood I’d lost. I had enough broken ribs to feed a griffon family and enough shrapnel stuck in me to refit an entire ARC ship. When I pulled through in recovery, they said it was a miracle.

But the bigger miracle was what ARC operators told me afterwards. The ANA unit pressing the breakthrough had panicked and completely broken. After action report said they lost more than a dozen fighters in minutes, all eviscerated, decapitated, or dismembered. It was as if a wild animal had torn them to pieces in midair. The ARC operator monitoring ANA comms during the fight said she’d never seen anything like it. Over and over, they repeated a single codename:

Demon.

******

“I slaughtered them wholesale like I’d promised. I so thoroughly brutalized them that battle-hardened veterans broke and scattered like foals. The griffons called me Demon. The ponies called me Hero. They gave me a damn medal for it, the highest in the land. That damn Sovereign Order of Celestia Invictus; you'd think I was some magical savior bringing Equestria into a new golden age. But what did they know? I knew what I really was. I was a failure to the only one who ever mattered to me.”

Firefly’s face went slack, as if telling the tale had leeched all vitality from her. It took a long, deep breath and a long moment’s pause before she could speak again. She lifted her eyes to meet Eastwind’s gaze.

“I still want to be a hero,” Firefly rasped. “Not for fame, not for fortune, but that someday I might atone for letting my best friend die.”

The room was silent. All faces were frozen in expressions reflecting their thoughts on the tale. Sunburst leaned back in his seat, legs crossed and a look of quiet resignation etched on his face. Eastwind’s eyes were closed, head bowed as she relived it alongside Firefly. Thunderlane stared in wide-eyed fascination, his expression bearing a strange mixture of horror and curiosity. Finally, Firefly glanced to Roshina, whose eyes remained fixed upon Firefly until their gazes met. The dragon looked down.

“Thunderlane? Are you all right?” Eastwind asked, breaking the fugue.

“It.” Thunderlane stopped, struggling to put words together. His brow furrowed and his lips pantomimed his words before he spoke. “It all makes sense now. Every last bit of it.”

“Sorry for the sob story, kid. But you deserved to know.”

“You’re damn right I deserved to know!” Thunderlane snarled. “I deserved to know this weeks ago when we first deployed! What the hell were you thinking, Firefly?”

The entire room was taken aback. What had gotten into Thunderlane? He was normally laid back, understanding, cheerful. Now fire burned in his eyes and lightning flashed from his tongue.

“Thunderlane, I don’t think..." Eastwind’s attempt at mediation was silenced with a hoof gesture from Firefly.

“What do you mean?” Firefly said dryly.

“Firefly.” Thunderlane trotted up and leaned in on the infirmary bed. “Earlier in the fight over the canyon, you called me Powder.”

“It was a mistake.” Firefly’s response was stony, emotionless.

“Yeah, but how many mistakes does it take before it becomes a problem?”

“What are you getting at?”

“Firefly. I’ve tolerated a lot of shit because you’re my CO and my friend. For a while I thought that was just how this unit operated. But this is the last straw.”

“What the hell is your malfunction, kid?” Firefly finally emoted, raising her voice as she challenged Thunderlane.

“I’m NOT Powder, Firefly!” Thunderlane growled tersely. “And I’m not her karmic surrogate!”

“That’s not why you’re here!”

“Are you sure? What about all the times you came to ‘save my ass’ when I had it on lock? All those times you got that thousand yard stare and stopped answering radio hails? All those times you ‘lone wolfed’ your way into enemy formations like you had a deathwish? Don’t think I didn’t notice! Eastwind may have told me to keep my mouth shut but I’m done with that!”

“I did it for you, Thunderlane!” Firefly rasped. “I did it for the team!”

“No, you didn’t!” Thunderlane shot back. “You did it for you! You did it for your gods damned martyr complex and a sick sense of karmic justice! That maybe if you saved me enough times you could pay back what you think you owe to Powder!”

“Thunderlane, please..." Eastwind said.

“She needs to know!” Thunderlane shouted Eastwind down. His chest heaved as he pointed a hoof at Firefly. “Firefly! You can’t keep doing this to us. You can’t keep doing this to yourself!”

“THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME!” Firefly leaped to her hooves with a flap of her wings, launching the bed aside and upending the operating cart, sending tools and medical supplies spilling onto the deck. She met Thunderlane’s gaze with wild-eyed outrage.

“MIERDA!” Thunderlane countered, unfazed by Firefly’s retort. “That’s exactly what this is about! Let it go, Firefly! Leave the dead to rest! Powder’s death wasn’t your fault and pretending it is won’t bring her back!”

“You. Know. NOTHING.”

“You’re right.” Thunderlane lowered his voice, but firm tone remained. “I’ve been lucky. I don’t know anything about losing friends. But I do know a hell of a lot about keeping friends, and this ISN’T how you do it.”

“Get. Out.” Firefly growled.

“You think ignoring this is going to fix it?” Thunderlane continued pressing. “This keeps happening! Firefly, you can’t fight if you keep losing your grip on reality!”

Firefly trembled, her teeth subconsciously bruxing, her back arching defensively, every muscle in her body priming for combat. Her awareness collapsed in upon her until Thunderlane’s speech was nearly inaudible. All that remained was her labored breathing and the pounding of her heart in her chest.

“You don’t have to fight this alone, Firefly. I’m here with you; we can do this together! But you have to let me in! You have to let me help!”

“GET OUT!” Firefly roared.

Sheer animalistic rage possessed her. Before Firefly could even think, she wound up her hoof and launched herself forward. Her punch connected cleanly, the impact to his face sending Thunderlane stumbling backwards until he tripped over his own hooves and crashed into the bulkhead, crumpling to the deck in a heap. Firefly’s wings opened and her legs tensed, ready to propel herself toward her disabled prey. Thunderlane laid on the deck, head against the bulkhead, looking back at Firefly in bewilderment. Before she could pounce, Firefly was on the ground as Eastwind tackled her out of the air and pinned her down with her own body.

“What the hell was that?” She shouted, the nurturing tone dissolving in the heat of sheer incredulity. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”

Firefly struggled, lashing out with her hooves and snarling like a wounded animal. It took Eastwind straddling her and pressing her face into the cold metal of the deck before Firefly realized what was happening. Instantly, Firefly’s heart was wracked with guilt. She hadn’t just hurt a subordinate. She’d hurt a friend. As Thunderlane slowly stood back up, the swelling around his left eye was immediately evident. It would leave a bruise, but it was far from fatal or crippling. It seemed the only thing really hurt was his pride.

No.

Not his pride. The realization gripped Firefly’s stomach. His trust. All of the trust that Firefly had built. She’d squandered it. Not only Thunderlane’s, but the entire squad’s. She felt physically ill.

All of it. Gone.

“I guess I’ll show myself out, then,” Thunderlane said wanly, giving one last glance before turning to step through the hatch. His voice was neither angry nor dejected; only disappointed. “I just thought we were better than this. If you need me, I’ll be on deck.”

The room sat in stunned silence as Thunderlane’s hoof falls faded into the drone of the airship’s engines. The rage evaporated. Her strength failed. Firefly was weak. She could crush any foe in close combat, but she couldn’t even handle her own emotions. Her ears drooped. Her head and wings were suddenly heavy. Her limbs went limp. It was as if she could no longer move her own body.

This was no barrier to Eastwind’s wrath.

“I’ve put up with this since the end of the war,” Eastwind growled angrily. “I did everything I could to try and accommodate you. I did everything I could to try and cover for you. I tried being patient because I knew that things were really difficult for you! But this is the last straw. It’s been three years! We can’t keep doing this. Something has to change, Firefly!”

Firefly laid on the deck, unresponsive. It took a long moment before she replied, her speech lethargic, lifeless, and barely audible over the drone of airship engines. “It already did.”

“Then show me!” Eastwind implored, the nurturing tone returning, if only for a moment. When there was no response from Firefly, Eastwind growled in frustration. She knelt down and placed Firefly’s front legs around her neck, lifting her up so that she could lay back down on the infirmary bed.

“I’ll go check on the kid,” Sunburst said, relieved to have found a way out. He quietly stood and trotted out the med bay hatch.

“Listen, Firefly -- ”

“No, Windy.” Firefly stopped her with a hoof held in a halting gesture, the dead monotone persisting. “I know you’re trying to help, but I need some time alone.”

“I can’t leave you alone,” Eastwind said, her throat tight with emotion. “You could hurt yourself. You could hurt others. You need us. We need you.”

“I will stay with her,” Roshina finally spoke. “Go. Tend to your Thunderlane.”

Eastwind hesitated, but finally nodded with a sigh. Eastwind tried one last time to catch Firefly’s eyes, but Firefly refused to meet them. With one final forlorn glance, Eastwind stepped out through the hatch and vanished into the passageway.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk,” Roshina said, taking a seat closer to the bed. “Take the time to rest. Your injuries were grave.”

“Flesh wounds,” Firefly mumbled as she rolled over, facing away from Roshina.

They were just flesh wounds. Flesh wounds that would heal in a body that could never be broken. A body that could never be broken being driven by a mind that already was. Firefly was tired. Her strength had evaporated, her wakefulness shattered. This was not over by any means. She knew she would have to answer for what she’d done. But for now, she could only close her eyes and drift into fitful sleep.

Author's Notes:

I hate trying to write sad. It either comes out narm or way darker than I'd originally intended. This was one of those chapters I'd planned from the very beginning, but dreaded writing because it would be so difficult to get it right. Killing things is easy. Regretting it is hard.

Also yes, I realize that part of it is a rehash of the prologue. I tried to cut some of it down, but I ultimately decided to leave it largely intact because there is commentary upon it by Firefly for the characters in the story and also a quick recap of it for the audience. It serves its purpose both in the narrative and as meta-narrative for the readers.

No soundtrack items for these chapters, as they are not homages to any particular scenes from the AC series. Hopefully they can stand fine on their own.

14. Interlude: Bereft

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Black sleep evaporated into grey wakefulness. The portholes in the med bay were now dark as night had rolled in during the intervening time. Firefly would have preferred going back to sleep, but she already knew it would be futile. Her mind had drank its fill of slumber in the postoperative haze, even more so after the falling out that followed. Firefly grumbled into her pillow.

“Sleep well?”

The words blasted adrenaline through her veins and sent Firefly from lying down to sitting up in a heartbeat. It took a long moment of recollection before she remembered that she had not been left alone. She took a deep breath before she was coherent enough to speak.

“You’re still here.”

“I promised them I’d stay.” Roshina’s reply was matter-of-fact, smug, and as annoying as Firefly had ever found her. “I promised you I’d stay.”

“I didn’t hear you promise anything,” Firefly groused.

“My word was given implicitly and I honored it; that’s what matters, is it not?”

Firefly rubbed her forehead with a hoof. “I don’t even know what to think anymore. Or if I even can think.”

“What’s on your mind?”

What wasn’t on her mind? The ambush in the canyon? The fight on the mountain? The massacre by the boarding teams? The confrontation with Cindermane? The falling out with her own squad? Firefly could yell and scream for an eternity with every thought that was trying to force its way out of her skull.

But the words caught in Firefly’s throat. She hated opening up. Even with their more cordial interactions lately, Firefly still balked at Roshina’s prying. Not that Roshina herself was an issue. In the weeks since their initial spat, she had grown considerably more amicable, which Firefly had returned in kind. It wasn’t Roshina, it was the prying.

Prying meant vulnerability. Vulnerability meant revealing exploitable weaknesses. Weaknesses meant getting hurt in the worst ways possible. That was something Firefly never wanted to deal with again. Thus, it took several tries for her to properly articulate.

“You know what it’s like to lose someone,” she finally said. “How do you deal with it?”

“You’ve dealt with it for as long as I have. You already know, do you not?”

“Clearly not,” Firefly grumbled. “If that last ‘discussion’ had anything to say about it.”

“Point,” Roshina said, tapping her chin.

She shifted in her seat, crossing one leg over another and leaning back as if in deep thought. Firefly tried her best to read Roshina’s face, but in the dim light of the lone reading lamp of the med bay, it was difficult to make anything out. It was with a deep breath and a sigh that Roshina finally leaned forward again, meeting Firefly’s gaze as she spoke.

“It’s a balancing act,” Roshina said. “You can’t let it consume you. But neither can you bury it and forget. Let it be a lesson to you instead.”

“It was a lesson to me already!” Firefly growled. Her ears drooped as she realized she was lashing out again. Taking a moment to calm herself, she continued. “It was a lesson. But the only thing I learned was how it felt to hurt. And that making others hurt only made it worse. I could tear a dreadnought apart with my bare hooves and it wouldn’t be enough. I could single-hoofedly kill every single griffon in the ANA and it wouldn’t be enough.”

Roshina nodded. “Then you know. Petty revenge solves nothing. For a time it may quench your bloodlust, but it doesn’t make it go away. You cannot fall into the spiral of small, selfish goals. You must think bigger.”

“How big?”

“You must think greater than yourself, greater than the fight you are in, greater than even the war itself.”

Firefly flopped backwards onto her pillow. “How do you look past just staying alive?”

“It’s not easy, that is certain. But it is necessary. Even in the fog of war you cannot forget why you fight. Think on it hard enough and it becomes a mantra of sorts, something you can recite to yourself as a reminder whenever your resolve falters. ‘I fight not to end this battle. I fight not to end this war. I fight to end all wars.’”

“That’s what I told myself. That I was fighting to end all wars. But it got harder and harder to see past the next fight, past the next blow, past the next instant. How do you trust yourself when everything is going to hell around you?”

“I accept the consequences for my actions and I accept that once I make those decisions that I cannot take them back. The consequences of acting hurt sometimes, but the consequences of indecision before and regret after will hurt far more.”

Regret. Firefly knew what kind of hurt regret could inflict and she knew that all of her efforts to forget it had utterly failed. But consequences could be beaten, right? If she fought hard enough, did all the right things, then there would never be consequences that could hurt her, right? Oh how she wished. Roshina’s words and her own memories told her that was nothing more than a fleeting daydream.

“Of course I accept consequences when I fight. But after the battle is over it’s different. In the moment it’s easy. But it doesn’t go away after that.”

“You don’t have to live with it any minute of the day. A decision is just that, one decision. One decision is a step on your path. It does not define the entire path.”

“What if it does?”

“It certainly feels that way sometimes. But just like each battle is a smaller part of the whole war, every decision is a smaller part of the life you choose to lead. Always keep the end goal in mind. Don’t get distracted by every skirmish along the way.”

“A single skirmish can end you.”

“Also true, but you can’t let fear of dying in one skirmish stop you from advancing. You have to fight each battle knowing that it is one step closer to the goal of stopping the conflict at its source. To destroy the cancer, you must eradicate the source of the illness at its core. You must never lose sight of that.”

“And what do you think that source is?”

“Greed. Hegemony. Conquest. All were evident during the Continental War.”

“The griffons and Valerian Titanclaw.”

“They were the most obvious, yes. But they weren’t the only ones. Equestria became a superpower after they beat the griffons. Now that the pendulum has swung the other way; what is to say history will not repeat itself?”

“You’re saying that Luna might betray everything we’ve worked for just to build an empire in her own name?”

“Less Luna than the state of the world at large. If not Luna, then perhaps Councilor Nobleheart of Pyre. If not Nobleheart, then perhaps Prime Minister Vale of Hesperia. It could be any of them, though admittedly Equestria is likely in the most advantageous position at the moment.”

“You’re afraid.” Firefly turned her head to eye Roshina. “You think that Luna could be the next Titanclaw.”

“Afraid is the wrong word. I am not afraid to fight; I am confident in my own abilities to wage war should it come to that. But I am concerned; concerned that all of our efforts might be for naught because of the words and pens of a few greedy politicians.”

“I don’t think you’re giving us enough credit.” Firefly suddenly said, surprising even herself.

She was no politician. Firefly didn’t even follow politics in passing. But what Roshina said didn’t feel right at all. Even years of cynicism and perhaps outright sociopathy couldn’t make Firefly comfortable with it. Something in her heart knew better; knew that they could do better than dreaming dreams of empire. Firefly was perplexed until she realized why that feeling was familiar.

Powder had preached it for years. As long as they had known each other Powder had hopes and dreams for equality, not hegemony; for peace, not conquest; for justice, not barbarism. She carried it with her through Firefly’s attitude, through military academy, through the war, all the way to the moment of her death. Even beyond her passing, that tiny bit of her remained with Firefly.

“The griffons never expected us to fight back when we were threatened and they were even more surprised when we held back after we’d put a sword to their throats. We could have erased Aquellia from history, but we didn’t. Instead we helped them rebuild and forged stronger friendships for it.

“Powder always said that was what made Equestrians special. That our nature was to make peace, even in times of war, and to build up rather than tear down, even if someone was once our mortal enemy. That drive was strong enough to defeat Discord, Nightmare, and Titanclaw. I don’t see why it wouldn’t be enough to stop us from falling into the same traps.”

Roshina crossed her arms, clearly skeptical. “No one is perfect.”

“True,” Firefly continued. “But even if Equestria did turn evil, I’m absolutely certain that somepony would be willing to stand up and do the right thing. At least that was something Powder always believed in.”

Roshina could no longer hide her smirk. “What do you believe in, Firefly?”

“Us, I guess. All of us, working together...” she trailed off, suddenly realizing what Roshina had done. “Just like Powder.”

“Have you found a reason to end all wars yet?”

“I guess I’ve always had one,” Firefly chuckled, the weight on her shoulders easing just the slightest bit. “I just never listened.”

15. Megiddo

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Even after all these years it was unreal. She had walked with these ponies, flown with them, shared food and drink with them, and shed blood, sweat, and tears with them. Now they laid unnaturally still, cold in their hastily-swaddled burial shrouds where munitions pallets once sat awaiting use. A surreal thought still swam in the back of Firefly’s mind; that maybe when her back was turned, they would all jump up and yell “SURPRISE!” and everypony would laugh at the trick they had played on their commander. Firefly sighed. It was nothing but forlorn whimsy.

Firefly was numb. The makeshift morgue had been purposely left unheated to prevent decay until the dead could be delivered to the Majestic for their last rites. But that was not what kept her from feeling. Revisiting the canyon ambush brought up anger and fury aplenty. Anger at the betrayal, fury at the challenge. But as with any adrenaline-fueled outburst of violence, it quickly burned itself out, leaving nothing but void. Sympathy and grief found no purchase in the ashes of rage. Though she walked among the honored dead, she felt nothing for them.

Did that mean there was something wrong with her? Probably. Would it ever be fixed? Could it ever be fixed? Firefly couldn’t answer that. As she stepped out of the morgue and onto the Sova’s deck, Firefly wished she had nicked one of Valor’s cigarettes for a bit of comfort in vice, if only to save for later.

Later being now. Firefly blinked back the cold as her hooves rang hollow on the exposed deck. While her mane and tail immediately frosted over upon leaving the hatch, the Sova’s main autocannon battery she was now passing remained devoid of anything save cold metal. The air was so dry that any trace of frost came only from her own breath and sweat. Not that there had been much in the way of sweating.

Chainka had been insistent on bedrest for infection watch. After all, sepsis could kill in a far more gruesome and painful manner than bullets, blast, shrapnel, or aether bolts combined. Ordinarily, Firefly would have vehemently complained at being confined, but she had slept more and deeper in the two days of transit than she had since they’d first left Azura. No matter what she did the tiredness never went away. It sat in her bones like lead, weighing her down, sapping her strength, and slowly poisoning her resolve.

It didn’t help that Thunderlane hadn’t spoken a word to her since the bedside incident. The Timberwolves took their meals together in the galley, but the moment Firefly showed up, conversation dwindled to nothing. The squad ate, dumped their trays, and dispersed in a manner that was more reminiscent of mechanical process than relational success.

Cold, barren, dead, grim. The frozen wastes spanning endlessly before her accurately reflected her state of mind. Firefly was well and truly alone and -- for the first time in a long time -- it wasn’t by choice.

Firefly hated trying to please other ponies. She had suffered through enough of it in school and in dealing with officers like Skywind during her military career. But her life didn’t depend on making Skywind happy or submitting to the will of a grade school queen bee. She would gladly have watched any of them expire without feeling an iota of remorse; hell she might have even done it herself.

But life and death in the field did depend on maintaining team cohesion. If none of the squad trusted each other, they were as good as dead. Furthermore, Thunderlane wasn’t just squadmate, he was a friend; or rather Firefly would like to think so. Only gods knew if that was still the case after the falling out.

“And here I was thinking that bullets were the only thing that could hurt us...” Firefly grumbled.

“You know that’s never really the case, Fi.”

Firefly didn’t bother turning to greet Eastwind. “Doesn’t stop me from wishing.”

Eastwind’s hooves clattered on the deck as she trotted to Firefly’s side. The wisps of her white mane danced in Firefly’s peripheral vision, driven by the relentless headwind. Eastwind managed a wan smile.

“I never pictured you as the type for wishful thinking.”

“Welcome to the club,” Firefly said flatly.

“The skipper says we’re a few klicks out now.” Eastwind changed the subject, trying to keep up her energy in the face of Firefly’s proverbial sandbagging. “The fleet should be visible any minute.”

Firefly cocked her head to the side, cracking her neck. “About damn time. I’ve got a hell of a bone to pick with Rafale once we’re hooves down on the Majestic.”

Eastwind sighed. Directing the conversation was not going to happen with Firefly as she was. “Try not to break anything, all right?”

Firefly snorted in contempt. “No promises. One way or another I’m getting answers. She can hide behind Luna all she wants but that protects her from Skywind, not from me.”

“I’m saying that maybe Rafale isn’t the biggest problem we have to worry about.”

Firefly finally turned to her, the baleful glower signalling the end of her patience. “If you’ve got something to say, Windy, spit it out.”

Eastwind sighed, slipping closer to Firefly and leaning her head against her. “Look, none of us are happy about what happened a couple days ago back in the med bay. We all know you were stressed. We all know that --”

Firefly slipped away from Eastwind, interrupting her speech with a firm tap of a hoof on her shoulder followed by a push to maintain distance. Eastwind stared back with the look of a deer caught in a train’s headlights. She was hurt, that much was apparent, but Firefly couldn’t handle touch right now. She didn’t want it. She didn’t deserve it. But the least she could do was give a frank response.

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it for me,” she said, finally looking Eastwind in the eye. “I know I screwed up. I know that I didn’t so much punch Thunderlane as I did the trust that everyone put in me. I don’t know what to do to earn that trust back, if I ever can.”

“I still trust you, Firefly. We all trust you, even if Sunburst and Thunderlane can’t say it right now. We just need you to trust yourself. Sometimes self-care is important, too.”

“Sounds like selfishness to me. Isn’t that what everypony was worked up about back in the med bay?”

“That’s not it at all.” Eastwind’s hoof stepped forward for a second before she halted, hastily withdrawing upon remembering Firefly’s unspoken request. “You know how to be genuine to others. You did it for Powder. You’ve done it for me. Hell, you’ve even done it for the old sire a couple times. He’s probably too thickheaded to notice, though!”

It was enough for Firefly to barely crack a smile, but even that quickly vanished into the bitter cold. Sunburst was thickheaded to be sure, but he wasn’t stonehearted. He’d hold a grudge against those who slighted him regardless of how much he laughed it off over drinks. Was she the next on the list?

“And you think Thunderlane would hold a grudge? He’s waiting on you to come back.”

Seven weeks of intensive combat operations forged bonds that no other experience could. Firefly knew that. It would take more than one spat to break that kind of cameraderie. Except it wasn’t just one spat. Thunderlane was right when he’d chewed her out. The incidents had been piling up and the med bay spat was merely the point of fulmination for the cancer that had been eating at them. Still, Firefly hoped against hope that Eastwind was right.

“My point is you aren’t selfish. You’re the exact opposite and that’s what gets you into trouble sometimes. But in order to keep taking care of other ponies, you need to take care of yourself. We need you back, Firefly.”

“You need leadership and combat prowess. You don’t need me specifically.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Will you stop it with the angst trip? If I could channel you right now I would slap some sense into you!”

Firefly raised an eyebrow, glancing back with mixture of glumness and morbid curiosity on her face. Eastwind could only shake her head and sigh in exasperation. She stamped a single hoof in frustration before finally huffing at Firefly again.

“Look, just talk to Thunderlane. Tell him what you told me. Don’t equivocate or aggravate. It’s not a competition, it’s a conversation. He wants to rebuild as much as you do.”

“I can’t promise results.”

“I’m not asking for promises, I’m asking you to do it. I know you don’t put much stock in promises anyway.”

“Fine,” Firefly sighed. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Suddenly, something shiny in the distance caught Firefly’s eye. “That must be the fleet.”

Relief at being home turned to puzzlement. The gleaming bits of metal slowly resolved themselves into ships as the Sova approached; far more ships than Firefly recalled being in the Majestic’s battlegroup. Had the Ward of the Empyrean rendezvoused with the Majestic already?

As they neared, Firefly’s curiosity continued to grow, along with a healthy dose of danger sense. Puzzlement turned to dread as Firefly realized that many of the smaller ships were queued to land on the Majestic’s flight deck and all of the larger vessels surrounding her displayed signs of severe hull damage. Numerous blast shadows, broken radio masts, and mangled artillery pieces were universally featured among the gathering.

Finally, the Sova pulled close enough to the Majestic for Firefly to view the activity on deck. What she saw was no less disturbing. Medical corps crew scrambled from the Majestic’s superstructure to the steady stream of ships landing on deck, returning with casualties laid out on gurneys only to come galloping out again once their charges had been delivered to the med bay. They had obviously been doing this for long before the Sova had arrived and the makeshift air ambulances showed no sign of stopping.

“What the hell happened?” Eastwind whispered breathlessly.

“I don’t know,” Firefly growled. “But if Rafale doesn’t give me a good explanation, I’ll make sure she joins them.”

******

“Majestic Control, this is VKS Sova. Requesting permission to dock for transfer of salvaged cargo and rescued crew from C-SAR operation.”

Firefly stood behind the radio operator in the Sova’s bridge as the destroyer began its approach on the battlegroup. She’d lost count of the number of ships landing on deck to deliver patients. The rest of the Timberwolves stood silently next to her, passively taking in the scene. The air was solemn, almost funerary; any idle conversation in the bridge and even between the members of Timberwolf flight had petered out on arrival. The collective thoughts of crew and fighter alike coalesced into one: What could possibly have done this?

“Sova, all docking points are currently full.” The Majestic’s radio operator was cold and detached as usual, but Firefly could definitely sense a hint of fatigue on its edge, as if adrenaline and coffee were more a contributor to wakefulness than fulfilling rest. “Specify cargo and crew for transfer and we will get you in as quickly as possible.”

“Three ARC ships from Majestic, one ARC operator, eight combat fliers. ARC ships for manifest: Echo Fox-933 Storm Warden, Echo Fox-244 Derecho, and Echo Fox-881 Thunderhead. ARC operator for record: Chief Warrant Officer Siki Okuo, requires follow-up medical evaluation. Combat Fliers for record: four members, Timberwolf flight, all combat ready; four members, Typhon flight, all combat ready.”

“Understood, Sova. Confirm ARC ships, ARC operator, and two combat flier teams for transfer. Please enter queue from the north. Your expected wait time is -- just a moment...”

Firefly and Eastwind looked at each other. A smattering of indistinct chatter could be heard over the air as the radio operator conversed with someone behind him. He cleared his throat as he returned to the mic.

“My apologies. Sova, you may proceed to the Majestic’s starboard auxiliary hangar for docking and salvage transfer. All combat fliers are to report to ready rooms for debriefing immediately.”

“Spasibo. Understood, Majestic control. Sova, out.”

“We just got fast-tracked,” Eastwind said. “Someone had to pull strings to get us in.”

“I bet I know who,” Firefly muttered under her breath.

The Sova rumbled forward, slowly drifting into position at the Majestic’s side. Unlike the refugee ships streaming in, the Majestic and its escorts remained untouched. Apparent speed between the two ships fell to zero as the Sova matched speed with the Majestic. Humming machinery soon overwhelmed the ubiquitous whirr of aetherjets. The Majestic’s auxiliary hangar doors slid apart, locking open with a loud clunk. Triangular trusses rolled out of the hangar over the Sova’s deck and the gantry crane and crew began the laborious process of preparing the ARC ships for transfer.

“C’mon, it’s go time.” Firefly motioned with her head to the hatch.

The Timberwolves filed out the hatch and clambered down onto the deck. The mechanical noise was even louder without the insulation of the Sova’s hull and superstructure in the way. Unintelligible shouts, clangs of metal on metal, and the distinctive clink-clank of chain links all echoed off the Majestic’s hull. Firefly threw the hatch shut and trotted forward to greet the dragons of Typhon who were already waiting for them on deck.

“Looks like trouble!” Roshina had to shout to be heard above the din.

“What was your first clue?” Firefly snarked.

“Were you also called for debrief, as well?”

“Yeah. Looking forward to it, actually. I’ve got a hell of a bone to pick with our favorite spymaster.”

“I’m more curious as to what happened to the fleet.”

“I’m getting that out of her, too.”

“Then we’d best get moving. It wouldn’t do to keep her waiting.”

The two squads took wing, launching across the gap between the Sova’s main deck and the Majestic’s auxiliary hangar. Upon touchdown, it became apparent that the engineering teams were working overtime. The side hangar was filled with smaller damaged ships, not unlike the ARC ships the Sova was preparing to unload. At nearly every hull, there was a team at work, welding masks down and tools throwing sparks to the hangar floor.

Chatter was light, but the atmosphere was heavy. Firefly caught wind of mass casualties, dead ships, searing heat, and purple lightning. The juxtaposition was bizarre and confusing. Storm? Sorcerer? Freak accident? Firefly could only guess.

As expected, Rafale was waiting at the rear of the hangar. “Come with me.”

“This better be good…” Firefly grumbled.

The noise of machinery and metalwork faded into the clip clop of hooves on deck as the fliers left the hangar floor behind. The ready rooms were some distance away, the circuitous route taken by the new arrivals a result of having to climb to the main hangar deck to access them. The journey was undertaken wordlessly, almost in the manner of a funeral procession, the fliers becoming the pallbearers of their former mission.

Finally they arrived.

“Commander al-Majed, please take your squad to ready room two and I will be with you shortly,” Rafale said. “Commander Firefly, come with me si’l vous plait.”

“I’ll see you on the other side, Firefly.”

Firefly nodded a quick farewell to Roshina as the Timberwolves shuffled into the ready room. Thunderlane locked the hatch shut behind them, the insulation and metal bulkheads blocking out the last of the machine noise and idle chatter from the corridor outside. Firefly’s ear twitched. The sudden quiet was disconcerting, as if she had suddenly gone deaf.

“Commander Firefly --” Rafale’s speech, however, proved this to be untrue.

“NO!” Firefly snarled, immediately cutting her off. Any lingering deafness was dispelled by her own voice echoing off the bulkheads. She jabbed her hoof into Rafale’s chest. No blows were yet made, but the tension in Firefly’s hoof and the fire in her eyes made clear that they were only barely restrained. “I’m not telling you anything until I get an explanation for what the hell happened back there!”

“In due time. Right now we have an emergency out there.” Rafale gestured with a hoof pointed outside the hull, presumably to the battered fleet outside.

“And you’ve got an emergency in here!” Firefly growled. She went straight to the point. “Why didn’t you tell us we were the decoy?”

“I will tell you once--”

“You will tell me right now or I will start breaking bones until you do!”

Rafale’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the only emotional tell in an otherwise impenetrable countenance of stone. Firefly continued to glare daggers. In her head, the proverbial knives she imagined jamming into Rafale’s skull covered every inch of the icy mare. But as usual, Rafale was more exasperated than intimidated.

“Fine.” She sighed. “We do not have time to waste squabbling, so I will tell you now for brevity’s sake. You have probably figured it out already, but I could not give you the full plan because our operational security has been compromised.”

“No, we didn’t know jack shit about compromised OPSEC, Rafale. That’s what happens when you don’t tell us anything!”

“Compromised? How?” Eastwind’s query was far less accusatory.

“A mole. Someone has been feeding information to the Talons.” It was far from a fearful admission; Rafale looked Firefly dead in the eye as she spoke, as if daring her to confess to the crime herself. Firefly glared back, undeterred.

“You think we’re traitors?” Thunderlane said in disbelief. “You think this is our fault?”

“No. In fact, your unit is the last unit I would expect to turn.”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted,” Sunburst said out of the corner of his mouth to Thunderlane. In her peripheral vision, Firefly could see Eastwind roll her eyes.

“My point is we know that the mole is on board the Majestic. With the data collected from the Azura operation, we have determined that the mole is embedded within the air wing itself.”

“The air wing. Does that include Brahma? Skywind?”

“Potentially. We cannot yet rule them out.”

“Why? Brahma would never sell us out and Skywind is so far up his own ass that he couldn’t sell us out to save his own life.”

“The leaks were specific to high level air wing operations. OPSEC breaches were conducted systematically at a tempo so fast that only someone with operational data from the squadrons themselves could have made those calls. Talon patrols were uncannily evasive. Forward operating bases and munitions dumps were empty when assault teams arrived at their supposed coordinates. Encryption keys for Talon radio channels never yielded more than static. No matter what our listening posts and scouts were telling us, our intelligence was always bad. Until Azura.”

“Azura? This has something to do with the Abyss?”

Rafale nodded. “Twenty-four hours before the assault on the Titan’s Keeper, one of our aerostats picked up a transmission from the ship, which we triangulated to Azura. It was unencrypted, transmitted blindly in a panic. The mining crew had found something, something they’d quickly abandoned. We now know this to be the mass grave in the Abyss.”

“So why didn’t they bolt?” Eastwind asked, tapping a hoof on her chin. “They were clearly spooked when we picked them up. They could have just lifted off and moved on, but they didn’t.”

“A response from the Talons indicated that someone told them to stay until whatever they had found could be extracted. The Talons wanted what was in Azura. If they wanted it, we had to get there first.”

“So you sent us in as the vanguard,” said Firefly

“No. We knew that the mole would try to extract it using our own assets, since we would reach Azura before the Talon QRF arrived. Setting up the canyon convoy provided enough of a target that we could sneak the real cargo out on another vessel.”

“If the mole knew our operational plans, what would have been the point of that? Wouldn’t they have just diverted to get the real cargo?”

“Because the Talons committed their forces to the canyon ambush. With their main force directed at the convy, our real courier was able to slip through nopony’s land undetected. Intel was kept tight so no additional forces were dispatched to intercept; if they even knew where the real courier was.”

“Are you going to tell me what the hell was in that cargo or not?”

“That’s classified.”

“We have clearance.”

“I’m sorry, Commander, but due to the sensitive nature of the artifact, I cannot disclose exactly what it is, regardless of your level of clearance.”

Firefly’s glare had yet to abate. Really? They were cleared for mission critical information and it was still being withheld? Even if there wasn’t some kind of rule in the codices of military law that required disclosure, Firefly herself was more than eager to go extrajudicial in order to get that disclosure.

Never taking her eyes from Rafale’s, Firefly growled a challenge. “Then tell me something. Was it worth it, Rafale? Was whatever was in that tomb worth getting my entire squadron killed?”

“I needed to find that mole.” Rafale’s response was unwavering.

“You’re no different than that arrogant ass Skywind. We’re all expendable, all just cogs in your glorious machine that can be swapped out and --”

Due to the sensitive nature of the artifact... In the heat of indignant rage, it took a moment for the hint to sink in. Firefly would have thought it a slip of the tongue, but Rafale didn’t make slips of the tongue, only calculated turns of phrase and precise patterns of impeccably placed verbiage. It was a small gesture, a tiny droplet of truth in a sea of lies and obfuscation, but enough to make Firefly angry at how much she would have to continue to trust Rafale to get the full story.

“What part of intelligence leak do you not understand?” Rafale countered. “Everything had to be planned in secrecy and executed with extreme compartmentalization of information. The more ships are involved, the more crew required and the more crew required, the greater the chance of the mole picking up on communique or metadata and using that to thwart our plans.”

Firefly growled. She hated it, but Rafale was right. SOF was no stranger to clandestine missions, and the Timberwolves were the SOF of SOF when it came to combat aviation. But being massacred, being bullied in the canyons was not something Firefly took lightly. Frustrated, Firefly slammed her hoof into the bulkhead and leaned her heated forehead into the cold metal.

“I understand that you are angry,” Rafale said. “Make no mistake. I assume full responsibility for the casualties in the canyon, but it was a calculated risk that had to be taken. Many more lives would have been lost otherwise.”

Well. At least she was admitting fault. As close to an admission of fault those REIN types could get, anyway. But that still did nothing to address the fact that they had been massacred during the mission without being briefed of the risks.

“Your losses were not suffered in vain,” Rafale continued. “The mole overextended when they attacked your convoy. The call they made for the raid in the canyon was so egregious that their existence can no longer be hidden. We have already identified their commo trail. They will be on the defensive and under pressure now, backtracking to check their snares.”

“So what? How does that help us now?”

“When they slip on one, I plan to hang them with it.”

Firefly paced. Bold words, especially coming from somepony as frigid and reserved as Rafale. Firefly supposed that was how the spy games were played: equal parts and excessive amounts of bloviation, subterfuge, wordsmithing, and crossed hooves on promised outcomes. Words meant exactly what their owners meant at the time and could change depending on the state of the game. It all made Firefly extremely uncomfortable with trusting Rafale to deliver actionable intelligence on their next mission; actionable intelligence that wouldn’t result in them all being killed.

“What if they don’t, though?” Firefly finally said, still pacing. “What if you’ve been played? What if you just did everything they wanted you to do and they’ve already got a gun to our heads? What if the same thing happens to us that happened to the fleet out there?”

“This is why I am in the process of putting new plans in motion. The game is always in flux and to stand still is to invite death. I will do what I can to keep you informed now that you have proven yourself trustworthy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Commander, do you recall what I asked you back at Azura?”

I can say this and only this. There is more going on than you can see right now. You may not understand it, Firefly, but I trust you to do the right thing when the time comes. How could she forget? Being accosted for a cryptic forced meeting was one of those things Firefly didn’t easily let go. The context did little to unravel what else was going on behind the scenes.

“You asked me if I trusted you.” Firefly’s reply was guarded. Maybe she couldn’t get a straight answer out of Rafale, but she would damn well try. “You already know the answer to that and it hasn’t changed since we left the oasis: I don’t.”

“And what else?”

“You asked if you could trust me to do the right thing when the time came.”

“And you did. I may have doomed you, but you saved yourselves.”

“That’s no comfort to the dead,” Firefly said bitterly.

“We will have time to mourn later. Right now, we must prepare our counterattack.”

THUNK. THUNK. All eyes turned to the hatch at the sound of hooves rapping upon it.

“I’ll get it,” Thunderlane said, shuffling over to the hatch and swinging it open. The open hatch cast a wedge of illumination into the ready room from the corridor’s lights. Two ponies were silhouetted in the entryway for a moment before they moved to step inside.

“Agent Rafale, is this a bad time?” Firefly’s hoof involuntarily tensed and attempted to dig a trough in the deck. It was Skywind. But he was flanked by Brahma Kamal, so perhaps this wouldn’t be as bad is she was expecting.

“Captain on the deck!” Thunderlane hurriedly jumped to attention and saluted at the hatch.

“As you were,” Brahma said immediately, preemptively dismissing the rest of the squad from attention.

“Captain Skywind. Commander Brahma. I was about to send for you.” Rafale said.

There were traitors on board ship, traitors that had their entire playbook and all of their operational data. Were the captain and the CAG the ones who sold them out? Firefly refused to believe that Brahma could ever betray them. They had been through too much together for her to be willing to sacrifice everything for coin or infamy. She knew Brahma. Brahma would never accept such corruption. She’d sooner die than give up her squadron.

But what of Skywind? Firefly snorted to herself in contempt. Skywind had his own twisted code of honor, but he also was willing to do whatever it took to get his way. Was promise of getting his way enough to overrule any sense of self-sufficient honor he had? Firefly didn’t know.

“I need that after action report from the Empyrean’s battlegroup, Agent.”

“Lieutenant Commander Firefly, you will need to know this as well, seeing as you will be going up against the Talons again very soon. I would highly recommend paying attention.” Rafale produced a folder from her saddlebag, laying it upon the table for all to see. “We can begin as soon as Lieutenant Thunderlane has secured the hatch.”

“Aye, ma’am.” Thunderlane nodded before throwing the hatch shut and securing the lock. He trotted back to the war table, taking his place next to Eastwind and Sunburst.

“The Empyrean was ambushed while positioning to assault the Tyrant’s Crown,” Rafale began, “the mountain range where a suspected Talon base was located. This is all that’s left.”

Rafale flipped the folder open, extracting the first photograph. Firefly squinted. The smoke in the photograph was blacker than midnight and very nearly opaque. Around the edges of the frame, snow and rock could be seen, suggesting that whatever was in the shot was on a mountainside. Rafale quickly produced two more photographs from the folder, each clearer than the last. In the final shot, it became apparent that the picture was taken of an airship wreck, specifically, the Ward of the Empyrean. The hard, angular lines of the Hesperian dreadnaught’s hull were strangely distorted -- twisted and warped as if some titan had rent the metal with its bare hands before twisting the ship on its axis like a wrung towel.

“Is that... is that the Empyrean?” Even Brahma was in disbelief.

“Oui. The ambulance ships coming in and the battle-damaged vessels currently undergoing emergency repair are all that’s left from her battlegroup.”

“The Empyrean was the lead ship of her class. She was state of the art, with more guns and armor than anything that came before her. What the hell brought her down?”

“Megiddo.”

Firefly’s ear twitched at the name, not so much from the name itself, but because Rafale’s voice took on a subtle edginess, a lingering disdain that even her cool, calculated demeanor could not conceal. Firefly had no idea what Megiddo was. She had no idea if Rafale would even tell them what it was. But she could already tell that it was something huge if it pissed Rafale off. The effect was not limited to Rafale, however. The word held weight, its gravitas silencing the room outright, even giving Skywind pause.

“So it’s real,” the Captain said quietly. The missing bombast made Firefly do a double take.

“Very real, I am afraid,” Rafale replied.

“Dare I ask what Megiddo is?” Firefly asked.

Rafale took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, as if she were about to speak something arcane and terrible. “Megiddo was an Aquellian black project to develop a large-scale weapon capable of destroying threats that could not be harmed using conventional means. Elder dragons, ancient monsters --”

“Alicorns,” Thunderlane said grimly.

Thunderlane’s blunt interjection cast a pall over the room. Rafale did not glare at the interruption as expected, but simply closed her eyes and nodded in acknowledgement; perhaps resignation? “The griffons took many contingencies into account when developing Megiddo... including alicorns.”

Rafale withdrew several ledgers and documents from the folder, all dated prior to the Armistice. “Officially, the Megiddo project was terminated before the war. The larger warheads were dismantled and the Agency for Strategic Intelligence ledger says the assets were reclaimed.”

“I take it the ledger is lying.” Brahma said.

“Of course it is,” Firefly scoffed. “ASI isn’t exactly the filly scouts.”

“The real assets were reorganized under Gungnir,” Rafale continued, “which was ostensibly a project to develop a new class of anti-ship missile to replace the Charybdis that the Aquellian military uses now. Project Gungnir was eventually scrapped as being too costly to continue, but not before a series of prototypes were produced.”

The next picture in the folder displayed a rack of four missiles, smaller than the prior ones. Firefly furrowed her brow. The design was familiar.

“These are Mark II Megiddo warheads. The design was miniaturized and modified for deployment using Charybdis anti-ship missiles.”

“Aquellian cruisers in our battlegroup carry those,” Firefly said.

“Correct, though our ships are obviously armed with conventional HEAT warheads. The yield was dialed down for the Mk. II model with the intended use being tactical ship to ship combat and precision neutralization of...” Rafale paused a moment, her tongue darting across her teeth for a split second as if the words themselves had become unpalatable. “High value targets. We suspect one of them was used against the Empyrean.”

“You said these things were prototypes. I know Cindermane was a war hero, but I didn’t think they just issued that shit willy nilly.”

Skywind scowled, but Firefly didn’t care. Her ass was on the line here, not his. If she expressed her dissatisfaction about it with strong language, that was her prerogative. Rafale, however, didn’t seem to pay it mind.

“Friends in high places,” she said. “According to the manifests, four warheads went missing when Cindermane deserted.”

“So the pirates we came to hunt have had their grubby claws on a rack of doomsday rockets?” Firefly growled. “This is buckin’ great.”

“So what’s the plan?” Thunderlane asked. “How do we stop this?”

“We have to figure out what Cindermane is going to do next and then beat her to it.” Rafale said.

“Which would be?” Firefly prodded.

“I dunno, what would you do if you were a murderous, psychopathic war criminal?” Thunderlane’s newfound sarcasm could have dissolved a hole in the bulkhead.

Firefly’s response was swift. “Easy. Take out the command ships. Take out MOB Topaz. Take out Crystal Spire. Congratulations, you’ve got the holocaust you always wanted. Then you can blame it on Equestria for letting it happen on their watch. And when the member states of PEACE order a withdrawal and public opinion drops, the Alliance falls apart and you get free reign of the north.”

“Uh,” Thunderlane held up a hoof and opened his mouth as if to object, but was unable to do so. He shook his head and put his hoof back down before speaking. “I’m not sure whether to be impressed or disturbed by how quickly that came out of your mouth, Commander.”

“Strategically it makes sense, but there is a problem,” Rafale responded.

Firefly snorted. “You’ve got a worse scenario?”

Rafale shook her head. “Hear me out. What you proposed does not fit with Cindermane’s MO. Tactical use of something like Megiddo is an unusual level of escalation. Cindermane is a raider and a marine. The Talons strike quickly and take what they need, then disappear into the wastes. She doesn’t kill for sport, only out of necessity. Something this grandiose isn’t her style.”

“You sure? I was face to face with Cindermane in the canyon fight. We had choice words for each other. I’d like to think I know what it’s like to fight her. She felt exactly like the type to escalate if she needed to gain the upper hand!”

“I refuse to get into an asset-measuring contest with you over this, Commander Firefly.” Rafale countered. “Suffice to say that we cannot base our operational plans on gut feelings alone. We do not have the full picture yet, but we’ll continue to monitor the situation. Until the fleet is back in some semblance of order, Task Force Paladin will not be able to mount an effective counterattack.”

“What about VFA-108?” Firefly said. “If we reorganize the air wing into smaller operational units we can keep hitting them even while the main fleet pulls back. You want Cindermane’s endgame? We have to find her and tail her until she slips up.”

“I was about to propose something similar,” Brahma nodded. “It seems we are in agreement. I will talk to the other flight leaders to see what we can put together.”

“Anything else, Special Agent?” The Captain said.

“Nothing else for you, Captain.”

“Very well then. You are dismissed.”

Firefly turned and trotted for the hatch, the rest of the Timberwolves close behind.

“I said the Agent was dismissed, not you.”

Firefly froze. Her ear twitched uncomfortably and again her hoof attempted to dig into the deck. She could walk away, make do with a reprimand instead of dealing with this right now. But something compelled her to stay. Still, she wasn’t going to make it easy for Skywind.

“Excuse me?” Firefly spat.

“I require an after action report from you, Lieutenant Commander.”

Firefly’s eyes narrowed. “I already filed my writeup and I’m sure Special Agent Rafale has as well. You should have a copy of each on your desk.”

“I’d prefer to hear it directly from the source.”

“You really want to do this?” Firefly growled, exasperated. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“The short version: we entered the canyons as planned, adhering to all SOP for running dark; radio silence, running interference using Typhon flight, and staying within the canyons and out of possible radar coverage and emissives sniffers. We only stopped when we ran into the minefield. The Talons were waiting for us. Happy now?”

“Your report notes that Cindermane directly engaged your unit.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Firefly sighed. “Cindermane herself arrived with a QRF after we repelled the initial ambush and routed the ambushing unit.”

“Why did you not immediately depart after the ambush was defeated?”

“Mobility kill on Thunderhead necessitated field repairs. I wasn’t about to leave one of my ships behind. And if for whatever reason you chose to allow your psychopathy to govern your decisionmaking, we didn’t know which ship the cargo was actually on, so we either flew all of them out or none of them out.”

“Your report also notes that you directly addressed Cindermane over voice communications.”

“And?”

The rage bubbled up inside again. Firefly could read his tone like a book. She knew what he was going to ask before he asked it; she knew exactly what he was implying. She didn’t like any of it.

“It’s unusual to directly communicate with the enemy during combat operations.”

“Not so unusual if you’re face to face with them in melee combat or she happens to have an open mic. I wasn’t about to let the slaughter of my unit go unanswered.”

“Did Cindermane make any offers of monetary or material compensation to you after the canyon battle?”

There was the rub. He’d beat around the bush quite a bit, but in the end it was exactly what Firefly had expected. He thought she’d been part of the operation from the start. He thought she’d been working with Cindermane to hijack the cargo. He thought she’d been setting him up to look bad because obviously looking bad was worse than dying or allowing the extermination of an entire city with a weapon of mass destruction carted around by a murderous psychopathic war criminal.

“The hell kind of question is that?”

“Did Cindermane make--”

“I heard what you asked the first time. I don’t like what you’re implying, Skywind.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“With all due respect, sir, your question is full of shit.”

She wasn’t sure which was more psychopathic, the fact that she wanted to murder the everloving shit out of Skywind at the moment or the fact that he was continuing to pursue this line of questioning in spite of her paper report and verbal responses. Firefly had done SERE training and seminars on how to handle internal affairs; they were supposed to get under her skin, but now she was almost certain that Skywind was just out for her and her alone.

“I am merely curious as to what could possibly spur a ruthless criminal to stay her hand when she clearly had your unit dead to rights.”

“Barring the psychopathic implication that you would rather my unit have fought to the last pony and died, you seriously think I cut a deal with Cindermane?” Firefly wasn’t sure whether to be incredulous or incensed.

“I am trying to get to the truth, lieutenant commander.”

Incensed was probably the better option. Firefly snarled back. “You want the truth? The truth is you’re a piece of shit, Skywind.”

“Commander--”

“You know how I know? Only a complete piece of shit would ask that kind of question after everything we’d gone through to bring you that damn cargo!”

There was a beat of silence. Her eyes quickly darting around the room, Firefly caught the various other crew’s reactions. Thunderlane’s jaw was practically on the deck. Eastwind bit her lip uncomfortably. Sunburst covered his mouth with a hoof, his eyes wide as dinner plates, all flabbergasted at Firefly’s unrelenting defiance. Brahma and Rafale were more reserved, but it was clear from their narrowed eyes and tensed shoulders that they were none too pleased with the development.

Most importantly, however, was the reaction of Skywind. Or more precisely, the lack thereof. In a strange turn of events, Skywind was now less emotive than Rafale. He made no overtures or show of being offended, instead looking her dead in the eye to reply, “I don’t like your tone, commander.”

“And I don’t like you, period.” Firefly retorted.

“That was very clear from your impudent attitude.”

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play here, sir, but pissing off your best and brightest by implying they’re traitors is a good way to lose.”

“My methods are not for you to critique, Commander.”

“Piss off. You already know we’re loyal to the Alliance. We’ve fought too hard to just let this all go to shit for a few bits. We’ve got too much on the line to flip.”

“Are you done?”

The dam was already starting to leak. Rafale’s inscrutability, the lingering malaise from the canyon fight, and Skywind’s oppressive level of arrogance in addressing her were all conspiring to erode her self-control. Already Firefly was seeing red. She would not be made a fool of. She would not let Skywind get away with it.

“Hell no. In fact I have some questions for YOU. What assurance do I have that YOU’RE not the traitor? Maybe YOU cut some deal with Cindermane!”

“Are you insane?” Skywind’s tone palpably changed, a sinister rasp creeping in as something very angry was suddenly roused from its slumber within.

“What did she offer you, Skywind?” Firefly growled. “What did she offer you to sell out the one officer who was willing to call you out on your horse shit? Spoils of war? A good fight for the press? A cozy villa in Long Guo after all this goes down?”

“Are you done with your fantasizing, commander?” Skywind’s glower was unwavering. “Let me put this in perspective for all of you. I have a fleet that is in tatters because of a new weapon of mass destruction deployed by an already deadly and intelligent opponent. The Majestic can barely handle all the incoming casualties. I’m giving you one more chance. Answer my questions or I will have you confined to quarters until we finish your investigation.”

With every word he spoke, the cracks widened, the rivulets of acidic ire growing into streams, the streams merging into a high pressure deluge of hate. Did he really think she didn’t know what was going on outside? Did he really condescend to treat her like an ornery foal? Did he really think he could get away with questioning her loyalty -- nay, her friends’ loyalty -- and walk it off?

“Then you’d just be proving me right,” Firefly growled. “You really don’t care about the truth, do you? You just want to spite me and if you get a bit of kickback from the Talons while doing it, so be it!”

If Firefly stared hard enough, she could almost see Skywind scowl. “Because me being right bothers you more than anything else in all Equestria, doesn’t it? Luna could crash the damn moon into the planet and as long as I wasn’t right, you’d be just fine with it, wouldn’t you?”

“ENOUGH!”

Firefly was fully prepared to throw a punch, but the command didn’t come from Skywind as expected, but Brahma behind him. She stopped and lowered her hoof. It was rare to see the usually tranquil commander so riled up.

“That’s enough from both of you,” Brahma repeated. “With all due respect, Captain, this line of questioning is going nowhere! Special Agent Rafale has already vetted Timberwolf flight. We need to spend less time second guessing ourselves and more time putting wings to wind and hooves on deck if we plan on getting the fleet up and running before the next attack.”

“Glad somepony agrees with--”

“As for you,” Brahma cut Firefly off, “I trained you better. The Admiral trained you better. Whether you like it or not, Skywind is still your commanding officer! If you can’t give him respect, you can at least show him common decency!”

The room fell silent. Firefly’s cheeks burned, but not from anger as they did previously, but from shame. She’d been scolded by whom could very well have qualified as the ship’s mother. The weight of Brahma’s words fell heavy on Firefly’s shoulders.

“Do we have an understanding?” She said, looking to Skywind, then back to Firefly.

Firefly managed a nod before another THUNK THUNK knock on the hatch drew her attention. Unsure whether or not the meeting was over, Firefly looked to Brahma, then to Rafale. It was Skywind, however, that broke the silence.

“What are you waiting for, lieutenant?” he said, looking to Thunderlane. “Open the hatch.”

“Yes, sir!” Thunderlane snapped out of the translike fugue with which he had been observing the hostile exchange and scrambled to the hatch, unlocking and slinging it open. An Aquellian marine stepped through with rifle slung over his shoulder.

“What is it, son?” The Captain said to the marine.

“New batch of survivors from the Empyrean just arrived, sir. You said you wanted to know when they were aboard.”

“Yes. I’ll be right with you.” Skywind glanced at Firefly. “Consider this charity, Commander. We will resume this conversation later.”

The Marine and the Captain stepped through the hatch and disappeared on the far side of the bulkhead.

“I take it we’re done,” Sunburst snarked.

Eastwind rolled her eyes. Thunderlane gave him a sidelong glance. Firefly shook her head in bemused exasperation. For a moment, things were normal again.

“For now,” Brahma said. “I’m waiting for Garm and Garuda teams to return from CAP before we go over our revised squadron plan. We are seriously short on horsepower after the canyon... incident. I’ve requested additional reinforcements from Stalliongrad, but I’m not sure when they’ll arrive.”

“Commander Kamal, you may wish to join us for the debriefing of Typhon unit. I will need to brief them on Megiddo and get their verbal accounts of the canyon fight. There might be something we’re missing there.”

“Speaking of something we could be missing... Special Agent?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Thunderlane?”

“I remember we picked up a Talon radio after we trashed the ambush. It should be stowed in Storm Warden’s hold.”

“It might be useful to lift some encryption keys from it, but I was hoping for documents or operational plans.”

Eastwind spoke up next. “I remember the radio used a pyrium casing, though. You don’t see many of those.”

“I’m sorry. Did you say pyrium casing?”

“Yes.”

Rafales eyes locked to Eastwind’s. In an uncharacteristic burst of intensity, she spoke, “I need that radio. Come with me. I will need a trusted escort to transport it.”

Firefly looked to Eastwind with eyebrow raised. Eastwind shrugged and gestured toward the hatch with her head. Something had clicked. For some reason, that radio they had salvaged was special. Rafale mentioned she was searching for more than encryption keys, but what more than encryption keys could a radio have?

The newly minted herd filed out of the ready room and began the trip back to the hangar. On the way, they passed the closed hatch of ready room three, through which they could hear faint murmurs. Firefly’s walk slowed and her gaze narrowed. A split second before it happened, her hair stood on end and her muscles tensed. Something wasn’t right.

BANG.

Everything moved like it was in molasses. It took a moment to register that it was a gunshot on the far side of the hatch and not normal ship noises. In an instant, she jammed her shoulder into the hatch and threw the lever. By some miracle, whoever was inside had failed to secure it, allowing Firefly to burst in with little effort.

Her eyes darted to the center of the room, where Skywind stumbled backwards, a fine red mist laced with ash grey propellant smoke lingering in the air. Her entrance had drawn the attention of the young griffon marine from before, revolver in claw, barrel still smoking. The disruption was enough for Skywind to act. In a final act of desperation, he secured his footing and launched himself at his assailant, slamming him into the bulkhead. The marine, however, was ready for him. The gun fired once more into the Captain’s chest, stopping him cold.

As much as Firefly hated Skywind, she would not stand for this. He didn’t deserve death at the hands of an assassin. Firefly slewed her repeater on target and flicked the safety off. The assassin quickly pushed Skywind at Firefly, blocking the firing line with his body. Silently cursing, Firefly diverted the muzzle of her weapon to prevent friendly fire, putting up a hoof to block as the assassin appeared to lash out with is claws.

Instead of attacking, however, he used his momentum to vault over Firefly and fired his remaining rounds at the others in Firefly’s group, scattering them as he scrambled to escape. Like a shot Firefly was after him, keying her radio as she took wing through the corridor.

“Majestic control, this is Timberwolf One. I have an active shooter in the ship, I say again active shooter in the ship. Actual has been hit! I need lockdowns on all decks and a corpsmare to ready room 3 on the main hangar level! Do it now!”

“What the hell was that?” Eastwind had finally activated her radio.

“It was exactly what it looked like,” Firefly growled.

There was no way this wasn’t the work of the mole. Did they know about Rafale’s plans? Were they already ahead of her? Firefly didn’t know. But she knew she had to catch the assassin if she had any hope of finding out.

Rafale cut in on comms. “Commander, whatever you do, do not shoot to kill. We need him alive.”

“Get the Captain stabilized. I’ll handle this.”

16. Intruder

View Online

Hooves thundered on metal. Wingbeats thrummed through sterile air. Ducking under hatch frames, skirting around dollies and empty gurneys, and galloping along the bulkheads to avoid bystanding crew, Firefly half-ran, half-flew down the corridor in hot pursuit.

“Hangar blast doors are locked down, Timberwolf,” the radio crackled. “Marines are en route to cut off escape to external hatches.”

“Dispatch, prioritize the auxiliary hangar deck. I’m going to herd him that way.”

“Be careful, Firefly,” said Eastwind through the airwaves.

“You know danger is my life!” A feral grin crawled across her face.

There was action now. No longer was she cooped up in a ready room being interrogated or being forced into bedrest by the otherwise well-meaning doctor. The adrenaline coursed through her veins, rousing her to full wakefulness and vitality.

Firefly slid her goggles down, tapping the switch to activate the gyro gunsights. Projected crosshairs and an aim-corrected pipper flashed into her field of view. A double beep indicated that her weapon was synced to her gunsights and ready for action.

“Get out of the way! Get to cover! Lock those hatches!”

Firefly pointed hooves and shouted at the crew to get out of the way. It was mostly to clear the corridors for her own movement, but she also knew that if the assassin began shooting again, there would be collateral damage. The shooter turned left at the intersection, using all fours to run along the far wall of the next corridor, bleeding off some of his forward momentum to turn quickly.

Azure eyes darted quickly up and down the corridor as she skidded around the intersection. It was clear, devoid of either bystanders or jetsam. She sighted in, the gun pipper dancing around the target as her repeater spooled. As if reading her mind, the assassin whirled around, using his wings to glide and maintain forward momentum while using his limbs to slew his weapon on target.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The report of the griffon’s rifle filled the corridor with thunder. Firefly freed herself from the deck with her wings, tracing out the circumference of the corridor with her hooves as she leaped onto the wall, then the overhead, then the opposite wall before returning her hooves to the deck. The whip-CRACK of supersonic bullets flying past stung her ears, deafening her in the confined space. Ricochets behind her made her wince.

Firefly hammered the trigger. A high-pitched whine filled her ear as her repeater spat its counterargument. Violet lances streaked down the corridor, stray shots leaving glowing orange pools of heated metal in their wake. The assassin deftly wove his way through the stream of tracers, twisting and turning as if executing some arcane gymnastics routine.

A burst of rifle fire forced Firefly into cover. She slammed into an open hatch in her bid to avoid certain death. The bullets pinged off the thick metal harmlessly, but by the time Firefly had peeked out again to track her opponent, he had vanished. She could have sworn a thousand curses, but the telltale sound of talons on the grating of a ladder gave away the assassin’s position. Firefly dashed to the end of the corridor and with a powerful flap of her wings, launched herself up through the overhead hatch.

Anticipating another spray of bullets, Firefly rolled hard out of the hatch, diving down a side corridor as she burst into the intersection from below. As expected, the fusillade tore through the air where her head and neck had been mere moments before, bullets dinging off the far hatch. Firefly followed the muzzle flash back around the corner, snapping off a burst with her repeater before resuming her pursuit.

“Timberwolf, this is Dispatch. The starboard auxiliary hangar is locked down tight. All exterior hatches other than those leading to the hangar have been sealed.”

“Good. Get corpsmares and an arcane ops detail to the hangar. If this guy turns out not to be a griffon, I want to be ready for it!”

Firefly wasn’t about to rule out a changeling infiltrator. In fact, she was almost hoping for it. It was far easier to attribute the betrayal to a shapeshifting gun for hire than someone who had willingly shot them in the back. Whatever he was, he deserved a bullet to the head.

Just like Skywind.

The whisper of her darker thoughts nearly made her choke in mid-run. She knew in her head that Skywind didn’t deserve death. A good beating perhaps, or a thorough thrashing from the brass to knock him off his pedestal were both acceptable; something to show him he was just a regular pony like everyone else. But in the back of her head, the thoughts of killing him outright persisted.

FOCUS! She screamed in her own head. There was too much at stake for her to afford distraction.

Finally, the corridor terminated in the upper level of the starboard hangar. The work crews had abandoned it in the wake of the lockdown, leaving only the husks of half-finished runabouts and ARC ships on the hangar floor. Firefly dashed in, slamming the hatch behind.

“Just you and me now, asshole,” she growled under her breath.

Firefly vaulted the railing of the upper level, gliding into the nearest piece of cover, an ARC ship that rested on its port side. Her breaths came louder than she’d wanted them to, her pounding heartbeat drowning out any signs of the assassin's movements. She jerked her head to the left at the clatter of metal. The griffon was changing mags.

Immediately, she peeked from cover, zeroing in on a flash of movement behind one of the ships. The gunsight pipper slid over her target. Firefly tapped the trigger, firing off a quick burst. Purple tracers skittered across armor plate and the hangar floor. The griffon bolted from his hiding place, snapping off two shots as he flew. Firefly ducked behind the ship’s hull to block fire. She then repositioned, clambering up onto the deck of another inactive ARC ship and posting up behind an armored deck shield.

“Timberwolf, this is Dispatch,” the radio operator’s voice crackled over the airwaves. “I have marines on standby and the requested medical and arcanist teams ready to breach the hangar.”

“Hold your forces, Dispatch. Sending everypony in would just give him a window to escape in the chaos. Secure the perimeter and lock the door behind me! I’ll handle this.”

“Understood, Timberwolf. Good luck.”

“Firefly, we might have something.” Eastwind’s voice cut in immediately after the dispatcher signed off.

“Go.”

“Rafale pulled the guy’s files. His name is Anderson Steelfeather. Lance Corporal. Did three tours in Indrek with Marine Special Tactics Group. He has a history of infractions with both the Aquellian Marines and the Alliance fleet.”

“Disgruntled bad egg?” Sunburst said.

“This isn’t right.” Firefly’s eyes narrowed. She kept her voice to a whisper. “There’s no way this can be a coincidence.”

“We’ll find out more when we interrogate him,” Rafale said. “Bring him back alive.”

“Wouldn’t you usually say in one piece?” Sunburst cracked.

“I don’t care how many pieces as long as he lives. Rafale, out.”

“Harsh,” Thunderlane muttered before the radio cut out.

The brief respite that seeking cover brought gave Firefly time to begin formulating a plan, or at least considering it. Steelfeather was trapped. The hangar was locked down tight and there were marines with rifles pointed at every possible exit. Unless his benefactors pulled a big damn heroes moment and peeled open the external blast doors, there was no way he was getting off the ship.

Unless he didn’t plan on escaping.

Her thoughts raced. Was there a bomb? Another unit of infiltrators? Some sort of sabotage on board ship?

The click of talons on metal echoed through the hangar. The noise was different, not the solid clanks of armor plate, but the muted clicks of metal spars above. The gantry! Firefly leaped from superstructure to superstructure, galloping over armor panels and radio masts until she reached the catwalks above. Her breaths came heavy in the musty air thick with the smell of old grease and warm electronics.

Green tracers lanced out of the shadows. Firefly threw herself from the gantry, falling over the side of the catwalk to avoid the incoming shots. A flap of her wings launched her back up from the other side of the catwalk. In mid-roll, she snapped off a burst from her repeater into the darkness before alighting back on the walkway.

A surprised squawk burst from the shadows. First the clatter of metal on metal rang out as he dropped his rifle. Steelfeather’s form flailed wildly, claws scrabbling at metal as he attempted to right himself. But it was in vain. He lost his balance and fell from the gantry.

We need him alive! The directive flashed in Firefly’s head as she dove over the edge. She streaked through the hangar, her hooves barely catching the fallen griffon before he hit the deck. Firefly grabbed hold of him, rotating to put her body between the griffon and the deck. The wind exploded out of her lungs as her back met cold metal.

For a moment, all was still.

“Remind me never to do that again...” Firefly groaned.

Suddenly, Steelfeather jumped to his feet. Firefly’s eyes darted to his destination. The griffon’s rifle lay just meters away. She whirled her hind legs around, sweeping out the griffon’s legs from under him before using the momentum to snap herself back on her hooves. Steelfeather stabilized himself on wing, drawing his sword bayonet as he spun.

Aquellian steel flashed in front of Firefly, the polished edge sweeping a hair’s breadth away from her muzzle. Firefly slipped backwards on wing and hoof, flipping out her own knife as she evaded the griffon’s strike. A power flap launched her back toward her foe. Her adamantite blade lashed out in a counterattack aimed at Steelfeather’s face.

CLANG.

Metal met metal as as Steelfeather intercepted the strike with the flat of his blade. He followed up with a kick to Firefly’s chest that opened her guard for the thrust that immediately followed. Firefly parried, driving the tip of Steelfeather’s blade past her chest and into the deck.

Her off hoof cracked the griffon across the face. Following through, Firefly wheeled around on wing and hoof, grappling Steelfeather’s neck with her hind legs. She gave a sharp twist, yanking his paws and claws off the ground and smashing his head into the deck.

The sword clattered to the ground. Firefly kicked it away and brought her blade to Steelfeather’s throat. “Give it up! You’re done!”

The griffon was having none of it. In a flash, both wings shot up from the ground and slammed together on either side of Firefly’s head. The sudden pop in her ears and a vicious punch to the throat sent Firefly reeling backwards, gasping for breath.

She was vulnerable. She hated being vulnerable. The surge of furious adrenaline purged the disorientation from her head, allowing her gaze to zero in on the escaping griffon. Steelfeather was just a few steps ahead, making a break for his rifle.

Firefly’s repeater beeped ready. She sighted in and fired. Steelfeather cried out. His rifle slipped from his claws and spun away, out of reach, the weapon’s front grip and the griffon’s forearm both sporting smoking holes from the unearthly heat of magical bolts.

The tang of heated metal mixed with the sickly odor of burned flesh. But Steelfeather was still standing. He drew his knife from his combat vest with his good arm, opening his wings and throwing himself at Firefly with a wild battle cry.

Firefly crossed her front hooves, catching Steelfeather’s knife arm in her wrists and attempting to wrest control of the blade from her opponent. The griffon gave a quick flap of his wings, using Firefly’s front legs as a pivot to swing his leg straight into her chest. Anticipating the counter-strike, Firefly flexed her abdominal muscles and pushed forward to catch the attack on hardened muscle instead of exposed flesh.

She twisted her body around, threatening to snap Steelfeather’s wrist if he didn’t follow. Follow he did, spinning axially along with Firefly. A flap of her wings put Firefly above her quarry.

She slammed her hind hooves into Steelfeather’s stomach, sending him plummeting to the ground. Her finishing blow aimed at his neck was turned aside at the last moment by a jab from Steelfeather’s knife. The griffon’s lion tail suddenly lashed at her face from behind.

Firefly curse as her eyes snapped shut at the sudden assault. She disengaged, somersaulting backwards and landing back on her hooves. She shook her head and blinked several times to clear the sting of hair from her eyes. In the split second she had paused, the griffon was upon her.

Steelfeather’s blade was a blur. Firefly wove in and out of whirling steel interspersed with sweeping kicks and flashing feathers. Even with only one good arm, Steelfeather moved as if he had no handicap. Every one of Firefly’s attacks was viciously riposted and every defense rapidly circumvented.

Suddenly, a thought struck Firefly. She slipped backward ever so slightly, goading Steelfeather to follow with a quick jab. The griffon roared and lunged forward, knife poised to lance into Firefly’s chest. She grinned. The bird had taken the bait.

Firefly shifted to her right ever so slightly, catching the knife between her uniform and her combat harness. The blade bit into cloth and shallow flesh, but Firefly forced her way forward nonetheless. She slammed her forehead into Steelfeather’s head, momentarily stunning him.

Her repeater whirred as its turbopumps spooled. Snarling viciously, Firefly jammed the repeater barrel into Steelfeather’s leg and fired. The griffon screeched in agony.

Firefly hit him again with a quick jab of her off hoof before grabbing him by the arm. The joint cracked as she forced a hyperextension and threw him over her shoulder to the ground. Even in his current state, Steelfeather fought back. His good leg with claws extended swept at Firefly’s hooves, forcing her back once again. Skittering down the deck on wing, Firefly gritted her teeth and fired.

More aether bolts seared her target. Smoking lesions spread across the griffon’s remaining good arm. Steelfeather roared in anguish, the pain forcing him to drop his last weapon.

The griffon’s head fell backwards in defeat, striking the deck as labored breaths blew from his nostrils. Firefly fired one last burst, the aether bolts striking the knife, sending it skittering across the deck, out of reach of the wounded griffon.

“C’mon,” he rasped through labored breaths. “Finish the job.”

“If you wanted to die that quickly, that’s all the more reason to keep you alive,” Firefly growled. She cautiously approached, weapon remaining sighted in before shouting down to her quarry. “Lance Corporal Steelfeather! This place is locked down tight! You’re badly wounded and whoever put you up to this has left you behind! You’re coming with me!”

“That’s not an option!”

“Oh really?” Firefly scoffed. “Get up, then! Try and fight me in your current state! And after you do that, you can shoot your way through that platoon of marines that are going to come pouring into this hangar and blast your way through a meter of pyrium-reinforced armored blast door!”

Steelfeather’s eyes darted around the hangar, first to the blast door, then to the sealed hatches, then to Firefly. The determined scowl of an expert marine vanished for a split second, replaced by a grimace of dread. Firefly pounced.

“The Talons aren’t coming to save you, Steelfeather,” she growled. “Just come quietly and don’t tempt me to put a hole through your head.”

“I never wanted this, commander. I never wanted any of this!”

“Then why did you do it?” The griffon rapidly averted his gaze at Firefly’s glower. “Why did you shoot him?”

“I can’t tell you!” he blurted.

If she were certain of his infirmity, Firefly would have leaped forward and broken his beak with her bare hooves. However, she still bore the marks of the previous fight, a fight full of surprises. Even with Steelfeather’s current injuries, she wasn’t about to put herself in reach while she still had the upper hoof.

“Bullshit!” Firefly snarled, her weapon remaining trained on Steelfeather’s head. “Why are you really here, Steelfeather? What have you done?”

The griffon rolled his head to the side and looked down at the deck, muttering, “I can’t tell you.”

“You’re lying! Who are you working for, Steelfeather? How many more holes do I have to burn into you to get you to talk?”

“You don’t understand!” He suddenly shouted, wide-eyed, finally snapping his gaze to meet Firefly’s own. “I can’t tell you! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!”

Firefly involuntarily recoiled. There was something off about Steelfeather. Those weren’t the words of a radical, a traitor, or infiltrator. Those were words of desperation, desperation bordering on madness.

“Are you getting this, Rafale?” Firefly said into the radio.

“We are recording everything. Bring him in, commander.”

“Please shoot me.” Steelfeather pleaded. “Just do it, commander. Kill me with dignity and end this.”

“You know I can’t do that, Steelfeather.”

“If you won’t do it then I will!” Anderson moved his injured arm, howling at the pain through gritted teeth, and pulled a grenade from his combat vest, keeping it close to his chest. He yanked the pin with his beak, but did not yet allow the spoon to fall.

“What are you doing, Steelfeather?” Firefly kept her weapon trained on the griffon, half-expecting him to throw it right at her.

The pin clattered to the deck.

“You don’t have any idea how it feels!” Barely restrained hysteria tore at the edges of his voice. “Not being able to talk! Not being able to think!”

Not being able to talk. Not being able to think. Over and over, the words echoed in her head. They resonated, the echoes fusing into one vicious standing wave that quickly subsumed all other thoughts.

Fear. Hate. Self-loathing. They were all things that Firefly had felt, all feelings she’d locked away and tried to burn to ash, only for them to surface again when she’d needed them gone. Steelfeather was no sadistic psychopath. He was no stone-cold hired gun. Steelfeather was her.

All of the pieces fell into place. She didn’t need to memorize the file to guess from where the disciplinary issues stemmed. Indrek was a horrible and unnecessary war for the griffons. Naval Academy had drilled into Firefly that history showed it to be a mistake of the greatest magnitude. Surely the scars of Indrek still burned in Steelfeather’s mind, scars that kept him from falling in line back home.

Firefly had dealt with disciplinary issues before; hell she had been the disciplinary issues before. Steelfeather didn’t have some ace in the hole. He was running scared. Something had happened here, something that drove him to do what he did against his will.

Against all of her training, Firefly powered down her repeater and lifted her goggles. Her tone softened substantially. “How do I help you, Anderson?”

“Eight. Four. Nine. Two.” He whispered tersely, as if someone were listening in over his shoulder.

“What is that?”

“I can’t tell you.”

It was clearly a code of some sort, perhaps a passphrase or encryption key. Firefly didn’t know, but Steelfeather wouldn’t -- or couldn’t -- tell her. Still, it was a start.

“Anderson,” she said as she approached slowly with extended hoof. “I’m going to bring you in. I’m make sure you have security and we’re going to get to the bottom of this. Together. Okay? I have medical and arcane ops teams on standby. They can help you! Just put the pin back and come with me!”

“I’ve already said all I can. I’m a dead griff either way. I’m sorry, commander, but it has to end here. If you won’t kill me, then you leave me no choice.” With a ragged and resigned sigh, the tired griffon dropped the spoon. Firefly scrambled backwards and dove for cover.

Thunder consumed the hangar.

Firefly struggled to stand, her ears still ringing. The physical trauma of the blast wave quickly passed. But the shock of what she had just witnessed still clung to her with icy claws.

“Timberwolf, SITREP!”

It took Firefly a moment before she could clear her head enough to speak. “Dispatch, situation FUBAR. Get medical in here on the double!”

“Are you wounded, ma’am?”

“Minimal injury.” Firefly stepped out from behind the hull of the ship she had hidden behind and immediately grimaced at the scene. “But our boy Steelfeather? Not so much.”

17. Burden of Command

View Online

The hangar was quick to return to operations. Not even an hour after the grisly prior events, crews were already back at work on repairs and refits. Still, the area around the Steelfeather and Firefly’s final clash had been heavily cordoned and warded with arcane circles to ensure the crime scene’s integrity. The arcane ops team was hunched over what remained of Steelfeather while the Timberwolves huddled off to the side, pouring over papers with Rafale and Brahma.

“Lance Corporal Anderson Steelfeather, Aquellian Marine Special Tactics Group,” Eastwind muttered as she read the dossier aloud. “Ironclad candidate, did mostly recon until the Marines were recalled during the withdrawal from Indrek. Exemplary service record up to the date of something called Operation Summit Falcon. After that, disciplinary infractions racked up like cheap booze on a sailor’s bar tab.”

“And yet somehow they didn’t give him the boot?” Sunburst said. “I find that hard to believe.”

“They kept you on board, abuelo!” Thunderlane cracked. Sunburst shot him a dirty look.

“Defected to the Aquellian Loyalists during the Continental War and was offered a spot in Task Force Paladin’s joint peacekeeping force after war’s end. Guess that brings us to where we are now,” Eastwind finished.

“They might have wanted to keep tabs on him -- keep him quiet. Whatever happened during Summit Falcon pushed him farther than he was meant to go,” Firefly glanced at Rafale. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Lieutenant Eastwind, the dossier, si vous plais.” Rafale accepted the documents from Eastwind and quickly scanned over them, flipping pages until she found what she was looking for. “I saw an unredacted version of this while reviewing ASI operations in Indrek. I believe I can fill in the gaps.

“Operation Summit Falcon was an assault on the INDRA stronghold in Graeae’s Cauldron, an active volcano in Indrek. MARSTAG infiltrated the caldera and set up demolition charges to knock out key defenses prior to an assault. The recon unit discovered that the fortress was not just home to INDRA militants, but also their families. The operators were instructed to identify targets properly before assaulting the main compound and the attack proceeded as planned.”

“I take it the results were not as planned,” Firefly said.

“The planners overestimated the stability of the caldera walls. When the charges were detonated, the side of the caldera gave way, sending the entire complex into the magma and killing everyone inside. High command declared it a strategic victory.”

“And Steelfeather couldn’t live with what he’d done,” Firefly said grimly.

Firefly was gazing into a mirror. Just like her, Steelfeather had been lauded for an atrocity he had been a part of, and just like her, Steelfeather had cracked bit by bit as the years wore on. Even after fighting her demons with all her might, the last few days had shown Firefly she was still following the same path. She shuddered at the thought.

“That still doesn’t explain why he would take it out on Skywind,” Thunderlane pondered, oblivious to Firefly’s discomfort. “The Pyrians were never involved in Indrek as far as we know.”

“Skywind isn’t the link,” Rafale said, pausing for a moment to give additional emphasis. “Steelfeather’s commanding officer during Summit Falcon was none other than Colonel Kira Cindermane.”

The weight of Rafale’s words fell heavy upon the entire team. Ears drooped across the collective as the link between Steelfeather and Cindermane was all but highlighted by neon signs. Firefly’s eyes narrowed.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said, shaking her head. “He defected to the Loyalists during the war. He got away from Cindermane. Why would he flip to the good guys and then go back to her years later?”

“Plant? Sleeper agent?” Sunburst posited.

“If he was, then he definitely wasn’t a willing one.”

“What makes you say that?” Eastwind said.

Firefly didn’t know what to call it. But it sure as hell wasn’t natural and it sure as hell wasn’t done of his own volition. Something had its hooks in Steelfeather, something that drove him mad enough to shoot the captain before ending his own life. The numbers that he had spoken before his demise continued to play in her head.

Eight. Four. Nine. Two.

“It was the way he talked,” Firefly said flatly. “He was the sanest mad griff I’ve ever met.”

“You would seem to be right, commander,” Atal said, approaching the group from his analysis.

“What have you got, Atal?”

“What we observed sounds exactly like a geas, a rather potent one at that. My arcane ops team is still running forensics, but I suspect that’s exactly what we’ll find.”

“I’m no egghead when it comes to magic. Care to explain that in Common?”

“It’s a spell that compels a victim to act to complete the objective defined in its creation while simultaneously preventing the victim from speaking of the objective, the caster, or the spell directly.”

“Mind control...” Thunderlane said in awe.

“Related, but not the same,” Atal said. “Mind control enforces the caster’s will upon the victim. A geas is a means of coercion through deprivation.”

“Cindermane obviously wanted to kill the captain,” Firefly said. “It looks like she picked someone with a history of violence to do it so FleetCOM would chalk it up to disciplinary issues boiling over.”

“And then FleetCOM would bury it there instead of digging deeper to find the pirate connection. Luna’s ass, that Cindermane is one cold bitch to get someone else to do her dirty work, especially using magic,” Sunburst grunted.

“I’m not convinced it is entirely Cindermane’s doing,” Rafale countered.

“Oh?” Sunburst raised an ear and cocked his head in curiosity. “What makes you say that?”

“Magic is not her style. Cindermane may be a consummate tactician, but she is not a spymaster nor is she a mage.”

“Doesn’t mean she can’t have unicorns on her payroll,” Thunderlane pointed out. “Didn’t intel say her battalion absorbed all the other pirate crews in the region?”

“That may be true, but Cindermane belongs to the old guard of Aquellian Marines. She firmly believes that battles should be fought and won with blood, sweat, and steel.”

“If she’s half as good a tactician as you think she is, she’ll have adapted,” Brahma finally spoke. “We cannot assume that she retained any particular loyalties to a given operational paradigm.”

“Cindermane or not, Steelfeather just blew himself up on the hangar deck,” Firefly said. “There was definitely coercion involved. Anderson looked me dead in the eye and begged me to kill him so he could ‘die with dignity.’ Whatever he was caught up in, he wanted out.”

“It makes sense,” Atal nodded. “The geas could have prevented him from going to the command staff until he had already carried out his mission.”

Eastwind’s brow furrowed. “Then why did he give us the code?”

“Because it was all he could give us,” Firefly said. “The code was the only way he could get past the geas.”

“How deep does this run? We could be dealing with an entire ship full of geas zombies!” Sunburst said.

“Highly unlikely,” Atal said, waving a claw dismissively. “Like what we saw with Steelfeather, geases usually produce psychological effects. Those that do not are several orders of magnitude stronger, require more components and time to cast, and also one or more competent casters. The amount of effort to geas more than a handful of crew or marines and have them stay undetected increases exponentially beyond the first.”

“Well... I’ll take your word for it.” Sunburst mumbled, his tone indicating that he wasn’t quite convinced.

“Thank you, Atal,” Rafale said. “I await your detailed report.”

“Oy, Atal! Can you take a look at this?” One of the unicorns conducting the autopsy shouted.

“It appears I am needed again. Agent Rafale, you will have my report as soon as we finish our work here. I’ll ensure a copy is also delivered to the captain when he awakes.” Atal nodded in acknowledgement before slipping out of the circle to resume his work.

“How is the captain, by the way?” Thunderlane said.

“He’s in recovery right now,” Rafale answered. “The corpsmare says he’ll live, but it will be some time before he will be returned to active duty. He was lucky we got him medical attention as soon as we did.”

Firefly couldn’t say she was unhappy about Skywind being out of commission. But she’d never kill Skywind herself, would she? She’d never wish death itself upon him, would she? For all the times she’d wanted to punch him in the face, she’d never want to run him through with her knife, would she? Terrible as the thoughts were, Firefly could not deny the logic of permanent solutions; even if said solutions involved death.

She scowled. What was she thinking? The fleet needed stability, especially with the loss of the Empyrean and the decimation of her battlegroup. Moreover, she couldn’t just go around killing anypony she didn’t like, could she?

Firefly’s tone was flat, the only response should could come up with being a less-than-enthused, “Great.”

“Firefly,” Brahma said, changing the subject. “What was it that Steelfeather said to you before he... expired.”

“He gave me four numbers: eight, four, nine, two; in that order.” Firefly said. “I think it might be a code of some sort.”

Eastwind crossed one front hoof over another in thought. “But where would it even be used? Without context it could mean damn near anything.”

“I’m already having my cryptographers try and match it to any known mechanisms, including the pyrium-cased radio your team recovered from the canyon.”

“Glad to see that come of use,” Sunburst said. “Anything yet?”

Rafale shook her head. “All we know is that it’s a low-power receive-only set. The device has a built-in chronometer and a set of dials to adjust frequency.”

Brahma tapped her chin with a hoof as she thought. “Do you think Anderson’s code could be related to the radio? What if it’s a target frequency? Or perhaps a piece of an encryption key?”

“Possibly. I can have my team go over it after we wrap this up.”

“That would be-- one moment.” Brahma held up a hoof in a halting gesture, turning her head aside as she answered the radio hail. “This is the XO. Yes. I’ll bring them right away.”

Firefly raised an eyebrow. “Commander?”

“The Captain is awake. He wishes to see you.”

******

“... for the last time, Firefly, Skywind insisted on seeing YOU!”

“I don’t believe it. And even if I did, I’m pretty sure it would be bad for his blood pressure. He can see me later.”

All through the corridors leading to the infirmary, Firefly had dragged her hooves. The dissonance between helping Brahma out and vanishing into a side hatch to avoid facing Skywind again weighed heavily upon her. This wasn’t what she needed. Not now.

“Do you really need me to pull rank, Firefly?” Brahma finally said, stopping dead in the middle of the corridor. Her bat wings ruffled in annoyance and the glare she was giving Firefly was dangerously maternal.

Firefly winced at the rebuke. “No..."

“Then you have two choices. You either follow me to the infirmary and speak with Captain Skywind or you accept the write up for insubordination.”

“Well..."

“Don’t say it.” Brahma sighed in exasperation. “Look. I know you two have your differences, but I am honestly sick and tired of this petty bickering. I can vouch for you, but you have to make some kind of effort!”

“I’d like to clarify something,” Firefly said.

Brahma caught on to the looks that were being given them by passing crew and pulled Firefly aside, where the cover of an empty gurney and an open hatch gave them marginal privacy. “Shoot.”

“You’ve seen the way he treats those under his command!” Firefly hissed when they were as close to alone as they could get. “He doesn’t give two shits about any of us! We’re not ponies, we’re cogs in his damn war machine!”

Brahma remained stony-faced, leaning back against the bulkhead and crossing her front hooves as she listened. Firefly continued. “You saw how he talked at us when Thunderlane first arrived! You saw how he tried to pin the canyon fight on me! He’s a gods damned psychopath! Someone has to bring him down!”

“And you think you’re the one to do that?” Brahma’s matter-of-factness caught Firefly off guard.

“If I won’t do it, no one else will!”

Ponies like that thought themselves gods. They stepped on others as they pleased, immune to all consequence, and untouchable by backlash. The only way to stop them was to knock them off their pedestal, to strip them of their privilege and power by force. She had the will and strength to stand up to him. So the task fell to her.

“Is that what you see him as? A target to take down? The enemy?”

Firefly ground her teeth. She hated Skywind with every fiber of her being and yet he was not a Talon. Why was she forced to fight alongside the real enemy? Her confidence waned as Brahma continued to bear down on her.

“Do you really believe that he is your enemy?” Brahma repeated.

“Now you’re on his side?” Firefly snarled.

“This isn’t about taking sides, Firefly,” Brahma steadfastly countered, her visage unflinching. “This is about coming to an understanding.”

“Every fight is about taking sides,” Firefly grumbled.

“This isn’t a fight! Not on my ship!” Brahma rebuffed her immediately. “I don’t always agree with Skywind. I, too, think he could stand to show a bit more compassion and equininity. But he’s not your enemy. He’s not threatening to kill you and destroy everything you hold dear.”

“Not in as many words,” Firefly growled.

Skywind was a privileged ass. He grew up rich. He was born into power. He’d never had to suffer the lashes of hard work or the pestilence of poverty. He never had to rage helplessly against the weight of being powerless in the face of another. Skywind knew nothing of what he inflicted upon Firefly and he enjoyed every minute of that ignorance.

“Are you even listening to what you’re saying?” Brahma prodded.

“I know what I’m saying!” Firefly roared, drawing strange looks from those passing. Brahma quickly waved them off as Firefly continued. “I’m telling the truth and no one is listening to me!”

“Let’s try something different,” Brahma said. If she was exasperated, she didn’t show it. The areion merely adjusted her garrison cap and continued. “Are you antagonizing Skywind because you think he’s wrong or because you want to be right?”

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference is what you’re focusing on. The former is a reasonable, concerned position. The latter is spiteful and selfish.”

“Not seeing it.”

“How do you think I would react if you did what you do with Skywind to me?”

Firefly wouldn’t dream of it. Brahma Kamal had been nothing but respectful to her, not to mention the rest of the air wing. Brahma had extended her friendship when all Skywind could do was give orders and crush those subordinate to him. Skywind’s god complex was the polar opposite of Brahma’s methodology.

“I don’t treat you like that because you don’t treat me like Skywind.”

“You don’t think I’d be the slightest bit pissed off?” she pressed.

“Well...”

“How do you think I would feel?”

“Pretty angry,” Firefly sighed, finally relenting. “Personally attacked.”

“Now how do you think Skywind feels?”

Feeling? Could that bastard even feel? No one like that felt anything resembling empathy or compassion. They only felt loss if it was personal physical harm upon them and even then it didn’t stick. You had to beat it into them again and again or they would go right back into old habits.

“He doesn’t!” Firefly snapped. “He’s a psychopath! Psychopaths don’t feel! They only care about getting what they want!”

“But why is he a psychopath? Is he really hurting fleet ops or are you just rationalizing his dislike of you?”

“He has to be. There’s no other way.”

“Let me tell you something, Firefly. Skywind may not have participated in the Continental War, but he graduated top of his class in the Pyrian Naval Academy after War’s end. He wrote the book on Pyrian anti-piracy tactics and every command he’s had has given him favorable reviews...”

“Who cares what the brass have to say? They’re just kissing each others’ asses.”

“... including me.”

Firefly froze. How could Brahma do such a thing? Was it even possible?

“The COIN-style tactics worked. Pyrian shipping loss due to piracy has fallen twenty percent since War’s end. He did not compromise, but he gave respect to those who afforded it to him. We got results under Skywind’s leadership.”

“It must not have been Skywind then.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust Skywind.”

“I’m not asking you to trust him. I’m asking you to trust me. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to understand that Skywind isn’t some impersonal, malignant force. He’s a pony, just like you.”

The bile rose in Firefly’s throat. Brahma was wrong, but she wasn’t lying. Everything that Firefly felt about Skywind clashed with what Brahma said about him. Why did things get so complicated all of a sudden?

“How can you say that after how he’s treated me?”

“Firefly, I need you to think about how you’ve been treating others.”

“Are you implying I’m a psychopath?”

“No. I’m implying that your reasoning for calling Skywind a psychopath might be flawed.”

“You think I’m stupid?”

“Firefly, you’re one of the most capable fliers in my air wing. We both know ‘stupid’ is the last word I’d use to describe you.”

Firefly grunted. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Stubborn is a better fit, anyway.” Brahma let slip the scantest of smirks.

“Hey!”

“But I digress.” Brahma steered the conversation back on course. “I said it before and I’ll say it again, to Skywind, too, if I have to. We can’t afford to continue second guessing our own. Skywind needs to focus on directing ships and assets where they will do the most good. You and every other combat flier need to focus on doing what you do best: killing Talons. Can you do that for me?”

She could slay Talons for all eternity as long as Skywind wasn’t sending her fliers to their deaths in malice or worse, indifferent negligence. But if Brahma ordered it, she had to at least try. She would never steer Firefly wrong on purpose, would she?

“I’ll try,” she finally said.

“Good. Now let’s see what the captain has to say.”

Brahma led the way forward and spoke no further, leaving Firefly alone with her thoughts. Her shoulders hunched and her ears and muzzle drooped as she trudged along, her displeasure at the developments readily apparent to anypony who happened to wander past.

Is that what you see him as? A target to take down? The enemy? Then you’re doing just as much damage as a Talon or turncoat ever would.

The CAG’s words continued to swirl around in Firefly’s head. It was already starting to bother her when she had confronted Steelfeather in the hangar. Having it enumerated so succinctly by her boss was just twisting the knife.

Skywind was a bully. Bullies could only be dealt with using violence. Therefore, Skywind could only be dealt with using violence. It was a simple syllogism, a marginally logical one, even. Yet it still induced dissonance. She wanted to hurt Skywind, to kick him off his pedestal, grind his rich boy face into the dirt, break bones, make the stallion who had never known true fear in his life face the existential terror that came with the prospect of losing it. No one challenged her right to exist like that. No one.

Are you antagonizing Skywind because you think he’s wrong or because you want to be right?

The pang of dissonance thrummed again. Oh how she wanted to be right. Oh how she wanted Skywind to be wrong, forever. But that wasn’t how it worked, was it? Nopony could be permanently wrong or permanently right. Wrong and right weren’t states of existence, they were temporary conditions in a changing world.

Maybe Skywind wasn’t the worst that could happen to Firefly. Maybe he wasn’t really out to wipe her from existence. Maybe Firefly needed to reevaluate what was driving her forward all this time.

Brahma’s knock on the infirmary hatch brought Firefly back into awareness. The hatch opened, revealing the face of an earth pony nurse. She immediately bowed her head in acknowledgement, allowing them to pass before quietly closing the hatch behind them.

Their hooves rang hollow on the infirmary deck. Though they wandered past closed curtain after closed curtain, the ward remained eerily silent. They passed the last row of curtains, finally entering the last chamber. Brahma rapped on the hatch.

“Enter.”

Brahma hoofed the hatch open, stepped through, and closed it behind them. Silhouetted against the backlight of the setting sun sat Skywind upon his bed.

“Commander Brahma Kamal and Lieutenant Commander Firefly, reporting, sir.” Brahma said, snapping off a quick salute. Firefly followed suit.

“At ease,” Skywind rasped.

I hope it hurts like hell! Firefly bit her tongue to prevent herself from saying it out loud.

“They’re not going to let me stay awake for long, so I’ll make this quick. Commander Kamal, Lieutenant Commander Firefly. Do you know why I’ve called you here?”

To berate me for my prior performance? To tell us how much we failed? To call us traitors? Firefly instead replied, “No, sir.”

“I don’t have to tell you how heavy the burden of leadership is. As commander of the Majestic’s air group and an expeditionary fighter unit leader, that burden is readily apparent to you.” Even in the wake of his injuries, Skywind maintained the dignified air of a Pyrian patrician.

“As a Captain, I am responsible for the lives of my crew and combat fliers. Every day I send them to face death, not because I delight in suffering or wish them harm, but because I trust them to accomplish the mission and return home to fight another day.” He shifted his gaze to Firefly. “I understand you might have some misgivings about that.”

His weakened state did nothing to blunt his laser glare. Were it any more focused, the flesh on Firefly’s forehead might have begun to peel. Firefly kept her poker face nonetheless.

“No, sir.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Skywind said, never once averting his gaze. “What is your real grievance, Firefly?”

Firefly did a double-take. Did Skywind use her name instead of her rank? Was he addressing her as a pony and not a machine? It was too good to be true. Firefly’s face twisted into a scowl.

“This is a trap, isn’t it?” She snarled. “Celestia’s tits, even after all the shit you put us through you’re still trying to throw me into the damn turbines?”

“Firefly!” Brahma rebuked her.

“This isn’t a trap, Firefly,” Skywind calmly countered. “We disagree on a good many things, but I am doing my part to come to an understanding.”

Understanding? The only understanding that he needed was a hoof to the face. What the hell kind of game was Skywind playing? Firefly snorted in contempt.

“What do you want?”

“A truce, if nothing else.”

The keyword “truce” was sufficient to give Firefly pause. So he acknowledged that there was conflict between them? That they were at war? That he was continuing to be a smug son of a bitch to her?

“I don’t follow,” Firefly said.

She had to continue the game. Skywind would show his hand sooner or later. She just had to keep up her poker face and play him for it when the time came.

“You don’t like me and I don’t like you,” Skywind continued, ignoring the theoretical games being run through Firefly’s head. “But your leadership and combat skills are invaluable to the fleet. I am not going to let petty personal disagreements get in the way of full utilization of my available assets.”

“And that would be my grievance.” Firefly spat. “You don’t treat me or my unit like we’re ponies. To you we’re just machinery to abuse until it breaks. Then you wash us out with a hose, stuff a new part in and expect it to work exactly the same.”

Firefly allowed a brief pause for impact before delivering her final strike. Every word was sodden with venom, every syllable a proverbial blade that she wished driven into his skull. “To you, we may as well be dead already.”

Skywind responded without missing a beat. “The burden of command is such that compassion is often lost to strategic expediency. I have expectations of those under my command. When those expectations are not met, it damages the cohesion of the entire fleet. I prefer to stamp out those slight aberrations before they become problematic habits.

“I’m not here to make friends with you, Firefly. Personally, I don’t care to. What I do care about is making my fleet effective. If all of your energy is devoted to hating me, that’s energy you’re not using to fight Talons.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we need to get our priorities straight. Let me make this clear. Regardless of what you might think of me personally, I am not your enemy.”

Firefly growled in defiance. Before she could respond in words, however, Skywind continued. “In my current state, I can barely stand, let alone command a ship. I’ll be transferred back to the medical ward at Topaz as soon as we have the opportunity to return. For the time being, my time as captain is done.”

He turned to Brahma. “Commander Kamal. Effective immediately, I am field promoting you to Captain. You will command the Majestic and by extension, her battlegroup in pursuit of the Red Talons.”

Brahma saluted sharply. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

“You have a proven track record and the air wing trusts you. I am confident you will not disappoint.”

Had it really just happened? Was Skywind gone for good? Was the fleet really in Brahma’s hooves now?

“Congratulations.” Firefly said, her inflection as numb as her mind.

“Lieutenant Commander Firefly?”

“Sir?”

Skywind’s unnerving tranquility remained. “Consider this my last act of charity to you. I am dismissing your investigation and freeing you to pursue the Talons to the Gates of Tartarus. Take that hatred of me and point it in the right direction.”

“Yes, sir,” was all Firefly could manage.

A knock at the hatch drew all eyes to the nurse. “Commanders? The captain needs his rest.”

“Yes, nurse.” Firefly and Brahma chorused before allowing themselves to be escorted out the hatch.

******

The walk to the Majestic’s combat information center was long and silent. Firefly could scarcely process all that she had witnessed. Skywind had shown equininity and personal complexity that Firefly had thought impossible. Had she misjudged the captain?

The former captain, Firefly reminded herself. The current captain of the ship was just a few paces ahead of her and Firefly couldn’t be happier. There was no one else Firefly would rather have commanding the battlegroup. It was great to finally have Skywind out of her mane.

Still, his specter continued to haunt her thoughts. The former captain’s words continued to resonate in her head. Consider this my last act of charity to you. I am dismissing your investigation and freeing you to pursue the Talons to the Gates of Tartarus. Take that hatred of me and point it in the right direction. He knew. He knew every little bit of it and he didn’t so much as bat an eye.

Did that make him a psychopath? A few minutes ago, the answer would have been an emphatic “YES!” But now Firefly was not so sure. Perhaps it was not her prior clashes with him that bothered her, but that the feud -- real or imagined -- had ended not with a bang, but a whimper.

The strangest part, however, was how perfectly acceptable that was to Firefly. She was always wary of easy solutions. Surely this would bite her in the ass later? Perhaps. But for now she was satisfied in the change of command.

Hoof traffic continued to pass as they trotted down the corridor. The occasional gurney loaded with a casualty flew by on its way to the infirmary, followed usually by an injured but ambulatory marine or flier still clad in uniform and combat armor. In all this time, the Majestic still had not yet processed all of the survivors from the Empyrean.

“Firefly, I need to ask you something.”

“Ma’am?” Firefly’s ear turned to catch Brahma’s words.

“With my promotion to captain, a new air group commander will be needed.”

Firefly’s ear twitched. The little foal in her got the butterflies in her stomach, but the battle-weathered mare sighed and pawed at the deck. She knew exactly where this was going and she didn’t like it one bit.

After an awkward pause, Firefly finally managed a response. “I’m sure Lieutenant Commander Savage will be happy to hear that. She’s a good griff and will serve you well as CAG.”

“Except Commander Savage isn’t the first on my list.” Brahma eyed Firefly knowingly. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t see it coming.”

Firefly did. But she still didn’t believe it. Nor did she want it.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were asking me to become air group commander!” She snarked.

“I am asking you to become the air group commander for the Majestic,” Brahma echoed.

“I’m honored that you would think of me, but after all that’s happened, would you really trust me to lead your fliers into certain death?”

Brahma stopped dead, turning to look Firefly dead in the eye. Hoof traffic continued to flow around them. The passing crew and marines glanced curiously, but knew better than to stick around.

“You’ve faced certain death and yet managed to lead your unit to victory in spite of it. You have more than just raw technical ability and physical strength; you understand what is at stake and what must be done to win.”

“And it’s cost me my friends and my command.” Firefly could do little to conceal the bitterness in her voice.

“The burden of command is heavy enough. Blaming yourself for everything isn’t going to make it easier to carry.”

“Then what will?”

“Trusting your command to carry out your mission. Trusting your friends to help you bear that burden. Trusting your wingponies to protect you as much as you protect them.”

Trust was a bitter pill to swallow. She hadn’t spoken directly to Thunderlane or Sunburst since the incident on the Sova and Eastwind was trying to play shrink more than friend. After all that she’d done, after all the bonds she’d shattered, would anyone still want to trust her? If her closest friends couldn’t trust her then why should the rest of the air wing?

Firefly shook her head. “There’s no way they’ll trust me.”

“You know how to lead,” Brahma repeated. “You know how to fly. You understand the mission, perhaps better than any of us because of your combat experience. They will learn to trust you. I have learned to trust you.”

A ragged sigh slipped from Firefly’s lips. She hated being emotional. All it did was hurt inside and tire her out. But Brahma had faith in her. The least she could do was try -- if not for herself, then for Brahma.

“I’ll do it!” She finally assented.

“That’s the Firefly I know!” Brahma beamed. “Congratulations on your promotion, Commander!”

Firefly stuck out her tongue in mock disgust. “Ugh! It feels so wrong!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll try not to abuse it too much!” The areion chuckled as she trotted onward.

It didn’t take long to reach CIC. The marines stationed at the hatch quickly hefted their rifles to present arms in salute.

“As you were, marines,” Brahma said, quickly snapping a return salute. “Lance Corporal, the hatch, please.”

“Aye, ma’am,” the griffon said before opening the hatch.

“Commander on the deck!”

The announcement from one of the radar operators sent all of CIC to attention. The effect rippled across the compartment, with those who were able standing up from their stations or turning to face her as appropriate. The marine nodded and closed the hatch behind them as Firefly and Brahma stepped through through the portal.

“As you were. Chief, I need the intercom.”

“Right away, ma’am.” The stallion at the terminal pressed a few buttons before waving Brahma to the console. “You’re set to broadcast to the ship.”

Brahma trotted to the console, taking a deep breath before pressing the microphone transmit switch.

“This is the XO. Before I begin, I need to thank you all. Even in the midst of this maelstrom, you’ve kept our ships running and our fliers fighting. It truly humbles me to lead such dedicated crew. There has been much chaos today and it is high time for a proper situation report.

“Earlier today, an attempt was made on Captain Skywind’s life. Thanks to the valiant actions of Timberwolf flight, we were able to apprehend the shooter and have acted to counter the exploits they used to gain access to our ship. While the captain is currently conscious and in stable condition, the nature of his injuries prevents him from continuing to oversee fleet operations. Minutes ago, Captain Skywind field promoted me to captain of the Majestic and by extension, the battlegroup commander.

“Combat fliers of VFA-108. I am honored to have served as your commander, but my duties as acting-captain will now consume my time. I have appointed one of your own, Lieutenant Commander Firefly, to lead you.

“The change is sudden, I know. But I trust that you will afford both Commander Firefly and me the same respect you gave Captain Skywind.

“As soon as our search and rescue birds have completed their last sortie, we will regroup at waypoint Scepter to the south and prepare for a counterattack. Let’s get it done!”

A resounding HOO-YAH thundered through CIC. If Firefly strained hear ears, she thought she could hear it coming through the bulkheads. Brahma’s very presence seemed to have reinvigorated the battered crew and bloodied survivors of the ill-fated Empyrean.

The beep of another console pulled Firefly’s attention from the jubilant crew.

“Captain,” a mare at the communications console said. “Alliance ships approaching from the south.”

“Reinforcements?”

“We’re being hailed. It’s the Eidolon.”

“The Eidolon?” Firefly cocked her head quizzically. “Isn’t she supposed to be defending Crystal Spire? What is her battlegroup doing all the way out here? And who the hell is left at the capital?”

Brahma held up a hoof to request silence. “Open a channel.”

The radiomare did as she was told. In moments, a familiar voice broke over the radio. “This is Admiral Flyleaf of Task Force Paladin commanding from aboard the Eidolon.”

“This Commander Brahma Kamal, acting-captain of the Majestic. What can we do for you, Admiral?”

“You will stand down and prepare to be boarded. My marines will assume control of the Majestic. Your cooperation will make this much easier.”

“Admiral, I understand that word of the Empyrean must have finally reached you. We have the situation under contr--”

“It is very clear that you do not!” The intensity of the admiral’s rebuke made Firefly wince. Even during the war, she’d never heard the old mare so incensed. “The flagship of the Hesperian expeditionary fleet has been destroyed, her battlegroup decimated, and from the reports that I have just received, your commanding officer was nearly assassinated by a traitor within the ranks! You will do exactly as I say until we get to the bottom of this or I will be forced to assume that your entire ship has been compromised!”

Puzzlement turned to shock. Shock turned to anger. Had Skywind’s demon spirit jumped ship and possessed the admiral? Firefly had had it up to her ears with this!

“Are you shitting me?” She snarled. She was again quickly silenced by the wave of a hoof from Brahma.

“Give me a moment to confer with my officers.” Brahma muted the microphone.

“That doesn’t sound like the Admiral.” Firefly growled. “Flyleaf would never launch a first strike against her own. Do you think she’s in on this? Are we the last loyalists in the fleet?”

“We’ll stand down for boarding,” Brahma said flatly. “We don’t have a choice.”

“We always have a choice,” Firefly retorted. “We’re in no shape to fight a fresh fleet with the extra load of Empyrean survivors. But if we mobilize now, we can recall our fliers and have our cruisers throw up an AA screen to slow them down. That should buy us enough time to escape and regroup for a counterattack.”

“Are you really that eager to draw the blood of your own comrades?”

“I’m eager to not be played for a fool!”

“I trust you, Firefly. Do you trust me?”

Firefly hesitated, her temper flaring for a split second before she regained control of her faculties. This was another play. They weren’t lying down to die, they were investigating.

“I trust you.”

“We’re not running. We’ll submit to VBSS until we can speak with the admiral to get to the bottom of this,” Brahma repeated. “Do you understand, Commander?”

“Understood,” Firefly finally said.

Brahma unmuted the microphone. “Admiral, we will submit to your request.”

“Until the investigation has been concluded, the Majestic will remain on full lockdown and under twenty-four hour guard. We will search the crew for infiltrators with a fine-toothed comb until we locate the traitors. Is that understood?”

“Understood, Admiral.”

“Flyleaf, out.”

The moment the channel clicked closed, Firefly let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, ma’am.”

Author's Notes:

This was a troublesome chapter. A combination of life changes, writer's block, and overall dissatisfaction with the character interactions all conspired to keep me from doing anything useful with it. Honestly, I'm still not happy with it, but if I keep delaying, it will never be released. As they say, release first and fix it in post.

The intent of the chapter was both a critique of Firefly's prior outbursts by other characters and a retcon of sorts to Skywind's personality and credentials, both justified by the story being viewed primarily through Firefly's POV which warps the narrative commentary on other characters accordingly. In a way, Skywind is semi-redeemed as a commander, though it should be clear that he is likely not a person many people enjoy associating with.

Fun fact: in a very early storyboard, it was the Majestic's battlegroup that got ambushed and not the Empyrean, with the end result being Skywind turning tail and running with the Majestic and leaving the rest of the fleet to burn. While it would have made for an epic big damn heroes moment for Brahma and the air wing to launch and save the fleet in opposition of Skywind's orders, it was also a complete character assassination of Skywind that was unwarranted.

Skywind may be an asshole, but he is no coward. The character is stalwart to a fault and intended to be a very capable sailor and commander. It would be an extreme break of character to have him back out of a fight as originally written. Also in the same draft was a physical confrontation between Firefly and Skywind in which Skywind refuses to yield, just as he does in this revised chapter. It was difficult to translate the inherent intensity of a hand to hand fight into words, but I think this version gets the points across better.

Music may be sparse since we are far off the beaten path now regarding syncing the playlists with the chapters that actually got published. I will revisit it later as there are some chapters yet to come where musical themes can still be relevant.

This chapter is the most likely to receive a rewrite in the near future. While the narrative flow will most likely remain the same, details may be revised to better convey the intended tone. Until then, onward.

18. Internal Affairs

View Online

Waiting was hell. Firefly had waited for the Armistice. She had waited in the ruins of Valdus for the airship home five weeks after the bloody battle had begun. She had waited in the canyons before the Talon ambush that had nearly ended her. She had waited to hear news of why an assassin had attempted to kill the captain, sending the fleet into the mad spiral they were currently in. Now, Firefly waited for her internal affairs hearing.

The spartan trappings of the ready room were further exacerbated by the presence of MARSTAG troopers posted at the door. Each griffon marine was decked out in full kit for CQB: body armor, helmets, balaclavas, and Aquellian KR rifles. Friendly and conversational they were not. Their eyes constantly darted from occupant to occupant as if daring them to draw a weapon and start a fight.

Firefly knew better. As likely as it was that she could disarm or incapacitate all four marines at the door faster than they could sight in, it was her job to comply, otherwise any remaining goodwill Brahma had managed to squeeze out of the Admiral would be squandered in seconds. Not to mention they were technically considered allied forces and such a gambit would be straight up fratricide.

“How long are they going to have us in lockdown?” Thunderlane grumbled as he paced.

“As long as it takes the admiral to go through her investigations.” Roshina said. Her eyes were closed, her arms crossed and her legs kicked up on the seat in front of her.

“That could take ages. At this rate, the Talons will wipe us out before we figure out who sold us out.” Sunburst growled. “At least we’re out of the damn bunk rooms for a few hours. I swear to Celestia’s tits, if I have to hear that hoofball bouncing off the bulkhead one more time I’ll --”

“Not my fault I got bored,” Thunderlane shrugged. “Besides, I wasn’t the one who nearly clogged the head…”

“Okay, so maybe that last MRE didn’t quite agree with me,” Eastwind chuckled sheepishly.

Eastwind’s silliness was rebuffed with an eyeroll and exasperated sigh from Sunburst and a hoof-stifled chuckle from Thunderlane. Firefly herself snorted in frustration. Everyone had their own way of coping.

It had only been a few days, but the tension in the air was palpable. Combat resolved itself in an instant of violence. This constant watch by armed guards, the threat of being accused of being a traitor, and the uncertainty of which commands and commanders were legitimate lingered and festered.

“So I see the admiral still has her head up her haunch,” Khog grumbled at the clock. “We’d get this done faster if we went up to her compartment and blew open the hatch!”

“Not without getting shot full of holes by every marine on this ship, Rojo.” Thunderlane said. “Last time I checked, even dragonscale doesn’t stop seven-six-two FMJ at point blank range.”

Khog managed a pained grin at Thunderlane’s refusal to ditch the nickname. “My point still stands! You already know I’m not one to sit around. I just want this done and over with.”

The banter continued around Firefly, quickly fading into noise as she brooded. She knew Admiral Flyleaf. She’d served under her during the War. They’d stood together as the victims of the Goodwill massacre were buried and overflown the ruins of Valdus when victory was finally declared.

Flyleaf was a good mare. She’d never betray Firefly. Would she? Firefly wasn’t so sure anymore. Steelfeather’s assassination attempt had come seemingly out of nowhere utilizing magical coercion as a main component. What was to say Flyleaf wasn’t also suffering the effects of a geas? Or worse yet, the commissioner of the geas?

Before Steelfeather had been compromised, he had been a loyal marine. Before Cindermane had gone rogue, she had been a loyal commander. Before the Admiral stabbed them in the back, she would have an exemplary record of service. Brahma seemed to trust the Admiral, however, and if Firefly couldn’t trust Brahma’s judgment, she didn’t know whom she had left to trust.

“You seem troubled.” Roshina finally spoke.

Their seating at the rear of the ready room afforded them full view of both the guards and the various cliques that had formed as the cooped-up fliers attempted to pass the time. While Firefly was bristling with stiff hairs and restless ticks, Roshina was uncannily tranquil. Firefly’s envy soon gave way to curiosity.

"And you seem less than troubled,” Firefly said, giving Roshina a sidelong glance. “Frankly, I'm not sure which bothers me more.”

Roshina cracked a wry grin. "I try not to let the enemy see when they have me backed into a corner. It makes them overconfident, more likely to make mistakes in their own hubris."

“That’s what bugs me. Who even is the enemy anymore? Is it the Talons? Or is it our own fleet?”

“And now you understand the trouble ACG must go through each and every day. You never know whom you can trust in counterintelligence and blackside operations.”

“Do you even trust your handlers?”

“I trust them to give me good intelligence. No sane handler would willfully lose assets through purposeful withholding of intel.”

“That’s not the same as trusting them.”

Roshina raised an eyebrow; as much of an eyebrow could exist on a scaled creature. “I don’t see the difference.”

“There’s professional trust and personal trust,” Firefly said, holding her front hooves in front of her as if weighing the two. “I trusted Rafale on a professional level. I trusted that she had a plan and that she wouldn’t withhold mission-critical intel. Just like your ACG handlers, no sane operative wants to lose assets.”

Firefly leaned back in her seat, resting her seat against the rear bulkhead of the ready room. She propped her rear hooves up on the seat back in front of her and crossed her front hooves in front of her chest. “Personal trust is different. I would never bring Rafale to a bar fight or a strip club. As soon as I’m in civvies she may as well not exist. You don’t have to be friends with someone to trust them professionally. But you do have build friendships to trust someone personally.”

“I see,” Roshina said. She tapped her chin in thought. “Do you trust me, Firefly?”

“I trust you.”

“Now is that personal or professional trust?”

Firefly frowned and pawed at the deck with a rear hoof. “Both I would think.”

“You seem uncertain.”

“I’m ‘uncertain’ of everything these days,” Firefly spat.

“Even your friends?”

A pang of guilt shot up Firefly’s spine. She sighed. “You saw what happened back on the Sova. I lost my shit back there. My own flight thinks I’m unfit to fly, let alone lead. So yeah, I’m pretty damn uncertain they’re still my friends.”

“Is that what you think they think of you or what they actually think of you?”

“What’s the difference?”

“You can’t read others’ minds, Firefly,” Roshina said, crossing her arms across her chest and reclining in her seat, mirroring Firefly. “And even if you could, I doubt you’d want to. Regardless of whether or not they like you at the moment, your friends trust you to speak your mind. The least you could do is give them an opportunity to do the same.”

Firefly looked down, closed her eyes, and sighed. “You’re right. Not that it will matter if we don’t get out of this hellhole.”

“They’ll come for us soon enough. If not today then tomorrow. The Admiral has been pretty methodical about how they’re moving us about. They always transfer us to the ready room and back to the quarters at around the same time.” Roshina chuckled quietly. “If I were them I would have dosed us all with ataxium and had us locked in the brig.”

“Yeah well I’m glad they didn’t for now.” Firefly half laughed, half contemptuously snorted. “You think Flyleaf will catch the mole?”

“Honestly? No,” Roshina shook her head. “Not this way. I’m sure memoirs of the Indrek campaign were standard reading in Naval Academy. You already know how counterinsurgency works.”

“You’re saying this is full blown insurgency?”

“Let us hope it’s not. But even if it’s just one small cadre, she’ll never catch them like this. COIN needs to be conducted organically. It has to be grassroots. Unless you are intentionally trying to lose, you can’t apply top-down pressure and expect it to work. If she tries to fight this like a classical war -- against her own people no less -- she will lose.”

A twinge of obfuscation tainted Roshina’s words. The words said one thing, but her tone said something else entirely. Firefly’s ear twitched. “You think Admiral Flyleaf is a conspirator.”

Her response was less a question than a statement of what the dragonness had left unspoken. A wan smile tugged at the corners of Roshina’s mouth

“I cannot say for certain. But if she’s not purposely disrupting fleet operations, she’s certainly playing right into enemy hands.”

Firefly was uncertain, now more so than ever before. Something about what Roshina said left a bad taste in her mouth. It took a moment to recognize the feeling. It was guilt. Not just regular guilt from regretful action, the self-doubting kind of guilt; the feeling that she was wrong even if she wasn’t at fault. The same kind of guilt she felt on the night they first met.

She’d put faith in Brahma, in Flyleaf. But Roshina’s words began to corrode it like gentle acid. What if Roshina was right? What if Firefly’s judgment of the Admiral was wrong? What if they were just being set up for an even bigger fall? Neither of the options Roshina had presented sounded particularly good.

CLUNK.

All eyes turned to the hatch as the lock disengaged. Four marines stepped through the portal, quickly fanning out and taking positions by the hatchway, forming an impromptu cordon with the two marines already at the hatch. Finally, a single figure stepped through the door, a pegasus in full battle rattle with combat uniform bearing the ship patch of the Eidolon.

“Commander Firefly,” he called. “Come with me.”

“Time to get this over with,” she muttered to herself. Firefly felt eyes upon her as she stood from her seat. She turned to Roshina with a wry grin, “When I get back I’ll let you know who the real bad guys are!”

“Were it only so easy.” The dragonness’ response was uncharacteristically flat.

Firefly raised an eyebrow, but had no time to investigate. She trotted down to the front of the ready room. “I take it you’re not allowed to tell me anything, sergeant?”

“No, ma’am. That’s above my pay grade.” He shook his head as he waved the marines through the hatch and pulled it closed behind them.

“Good sire.” Firefly didn’t expect to glean any intel out of him. She wasn’t a master spy like Rafale and couldn’t scry for clues in the aether like Roshina or Atal. “Guess I’ll just have to grill the IA agent until they tell me something…”

The route through the ship was circuitous, made even longer by the complete lack of activity within the vessel’s passageways. Firefly’s own hoofsteps rang hollow through the bowels of the ship. There was not another soul in sight save for the marines with which she now traveled. Every hatch she trotted past was locked. Down the levels they went, every deck just as lonely as the last.

Finally, they reached the Majestic’s brig level. Instead of merely tossing her in an isolation cell, however, the marines guided her down another passageway. The sergeant opened the hatch to what at first appeared to be another isolation cell and ushered her inside. The very timbre of her hoof falls on the deck changed.

Gone was the hollow clank of hooves on steel, replaced instead by a strange hum that momentarily peaked with each strike of a hoof. Sterile, piercing white-blue light uniformly illuminated the entire space, giving Firefly the illusion of floating in the midst of a snowstorm. The compartment was also cold, several degrees below ambient shipboard temperature, though thankfully nowhere near the subzero chill outside. Its walls bore no identifying features save for a single drain hole in the middle of the gently sloped floor. Firefly chuckled to herself, briefly considering utilizing it just to give her interviewers as hard a time as they were sure to give her. It was then that Firefly realized where she was.

This was one of the Majestic’s rendition rooms.

The marines nudged her to the bench, but did not strap her in. Firefly didn’t start a fight. The time to escape would be later, when she could use the interrogator as leverage. The marines filed out, the hatch slamming closed and locking behind them. As soon as the hatch locked, the compartment fell silent, eerily so. Normally, Firefly could hear the hum of the ship’s engines the movement of hooves through passageways, and the clanging of hatches and machinery resonating through the ship. But all of it had suddenly vanished.

She took a deep breath and laid down on the bench, doing her best to relax. The sensory deprivation was unnerving, but expected. She had to keep herself calm and fresh for the interrogator.

Firefly hadn’t been in a rendition chamber since SERE training. It was there that she had gotten a taste of “enhanced interrogation,” as the trainer had called it. While such things were technically illegal by Equestrian law, combat fliers and special operators were likely to encounter it if captured while operating in denied territory. Ideally, of course, capture was to be avoided, but sometimes circumstances were not so favorable. Of all the times she figured she would have to use her skills, Firefly had least expected it to be in her own ship against her own peers.

She was uncertain of how long she waited. It felt like an hour, maybe two, but it was likely shorter simply due to the isolation of the rendition chamber. Finally, the hatch of the compartment unlocked and groaned open.

“Commander Firefly.” The greeting was clipped, proper, and impeccably enunciated.

Firefly finally looked up. In the hatchway stood a lone pegasus mare. Her coat was a rich brown, the color of book bindings, her mane, tail, and pinions a pale cream. At first glance, her navy working uniform made her appear to be yet another crew member. But closer inspect revealed a few wrinkles on her muzzle and the white of age beginning to creep into her mane. Finally, Firefly’s eyes came to rest upon the four stars on the mare’s collar. She closed the hatch behind her and trotted up to the bench.

“Admiral.” Firefly said flatly. “Long time no see.”

Admiral Flyleaf must have thought she knew something important. Why else would she come down to interrogate Firefly herself? At least now Firefly could judge whether or not Flyleaf had been compromised in person.

“Three days ago, you were involved in an incident with Lance Corporal Anderson Steelfeather.” The Admiral wasted no further time with greeting and smalltalk. She paced around Firefly as she spoke. “This resulted in the death of Steelfeather and the near death of Captain Skywind. The report also notes your disciplinary infraction shortly before the assassination attempt occurred. My arcanists also tell me of geases and magical coercion. This entire week has been one gigantic screwup from top to bottom!”

“You’re telling me,” Firefly cracked. Her smirk quickly faded when she saw the Admiral’s face had not dropped its stony visage.

“Give me one good reason to believe you haven’t been compromised, too.”

Firefly was willing to take slights and blows from others of her rank and deal it right back. But having her integrity challenged by someone she had so admired and respected stung. It took a moment for her to collect herself enough to retort, but when she did, her voice was edged with venom.

“You first,” Firefly growled, craning her neck to face the Admiral. “You served with me. You know me. You know what I stand for. You know I would never betray those I’ve fought and bled with!”

“Steelfeather was spellbound and there is still a mole running amok on board my ship!” The Admiral shot back, continuing to pace. “You were involved in the canyon ambush, you were involved in an altercation with Captain Skywind, and you spoke with Lance Corporal Steelfeather in the hangar before his death. Which forces me to ask: have you been contacted by any agent outside of Entente chain of command within the past week?”

“Are you even listening to me? Are you even the real Admiral Flyleaf?” It came out more desperate than she had been intending it. But Firefly was losing her cool. This wasn’t the Admiral Flyleaf she knew. This wasn’t the Flyleaf she had fought alongside.

“I asked you a question, Commander,” the Admiral said, ignoring Firefly’s own question.

“I should be asking you that same thing!” Firefly snarled.

The Admiral’s face remained stony and unperturbed. “Were you contacted by any agent outside of Entente chain of command within the past week?”

“You gotta be shitting me! Have you forgotten everything about me? About you?”

“Answer the question, Commander.”

“We were comrades, Flyleaf. You saw us through Valdus when nopony else could. I really want to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Firefly said. As she continued to speak, however, her voice deepened as she twisted her words into a threatening growl. “But if you threw it all of that away; if you found it in your heart to stab all of us in the back, if you are the mole, I swear to Celestia I will rip your heart out and make you choke on it!”

Firefly leaped up from the bench, her muzzle nearly touching the Admiral’s. Her words dripped with venom, her glare could have pierced armor plate, and every muscle in her body was prepared to deliver a bone-shattering strike to what was surely an impostor standing before her.

Suddenly, a cacophonous ringing surged through Firefly’s ears. A thousand knives stabbed into her mind and tore at her eardrums. She crumpled to the floor. Through bleary eyes and nauseatingly blurred vision, she could barely make out the glowing blue gem set in purple-tinged metal that Admiral Flyleaf held in her hoof.

“Your convictions are strong, as always, Firefly.”

Firefly swung wildly, but her hooves found only empty air. She scrabbled at the deck, the bench, the bulkhead, anything to gain traction. But the knives in her head buried themselves deeper. Her limbs convulsed and seized against her furious efforts. She spat curses between gagging and dry heaves. She would not lose to a damn infiltrator!

“But also as always, your judgment is hasty,” the Admiral leaned in as she spoke. Though Firefly could barely hear through the shrieking of the sonic device, she could tell something had changed in the Admiral’s voice. It was now familiar, comforting even. “If you would have just sat still for a few more minutes, this would have been a lot easier. But now that I have your attention, listen to me carefully, because we do not have much time. I’m not here to torture you, I’m here to brief you.”

The realization clicked into place and Firefly ceased struggling. This was more like the Admiral Flyleaf she knew. It had to be a counterintel op. After all the insanity with Rafale, the Abyss, the canyon ambush, and the assassination attempt, Firefly had feared all was lost. Flyleaf’s revelation gave her new hope. She turned an ear and listened.

“The sonic emitter will mask this conversation for now. You’ll have to forgive the dog and pony show. With all that has been going on this past week one can never be too careful.”

As the Admiral spoke, she ran her other front hoof in a circle around the gem. The mental knives slowly withdrew, allowing a semblance of clarity to return. The frenzied ringing faded to a dull hum. Bit by bit, Firefly regained motor control of her limbs.

“Giving medicine to the dead, Admiral,” Firefly managed through gritted teeth.

“Noted,” Flyleaf nodded. “I have been in contact with Agent Rafale. Last night, she received a heavily encrypted message from a source within the Red Talons, codename: Hecate, a potential defector. The source claims to have operational data on both the mole and Cindermane’s endgame.”

“How do we know it’s legit?” Firefly rasped.

“Rafale’s team deemed it actionable and I trust her judgment. But in order to recover the intel we have to move fast.”

“Plan?”

“Hecate will deliver a dead drop to the ruins of Amore’s Rest. You will infiltrate the village and retrieve the drop. This mission will be off the books, so I need you to select two flights from your most trusted team of combat fliers to perform the retrieval.”

“No rest for the wicked,” Firefly barely managed a smirk against the infernal din of the sonic emitter. “I already have combat flier teams in mind: Timberwolf and Typhon. They’re my squadron’s best and I trust them with my life.”

“I’ll have them moved to the Eidolon under cover of prisoner transfer. From there, you will depart on Maven team’s ARC ship, Fortis. Deployment is at 0400 tomorrow.”

“Got it. Can you turn that damn thing off now?” Firefly groaned.

Admiral Flyleaf clicked the gem once and clipped it back to her jacket. Instantly the noise stopped. Firefly breathed a sigh of relief as the nausea subsided and the mind knives melted into the aether. If REIN had access to that kind of magitech, she’d have to be more careful about getting on Rafale’s bad side.

“I see you haven’t changed a bit,” the Admiral said, her scolding tone returning. She was loud enough for whomever was in the observation room to hear on their mics. She looked toward the one-way glass. “Sergeant, prepare for prisoner transfer to the Eidolon. I’ll have a full list for you compiled shortly. We have some more processing to do.”

19. Interlude: Rehab

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Firefly found herself awake long before the alarms were due to go off. She tossed and turned, but found herself unable to go back to sleep. Rolling off the hard sleeping mat on the hangar floor, she quietly donned her flight gear and trotted out the hatch of the modular dorm, past the sleeping forms of her squadmates. Other than their miniature dorm block, the Eidolon’s port auxiliary hangar was entirely devoid of life, having been specifically cordoned for the Admiral’s fleet lockdown orders.

The hangar was mostly dark, the only illumination coming from a line of halide lamps demarcating a virtual runway for incoming vessels. Only one such ship stood in the launch path, the harsh radiance casting sharp shadows across its hull and superstructure. Firefly gave one last glance back at her sleeping squad before trotting forward.

She breathed deeply. Aromas of old grease, LACE fuel, and gun propellant wafted into her nostrils. Firefly relaxed ever so slightly. Familiar smells brought her comfort even in the belly of a foreign ship. She paced around the parked ARC ship, recalling that it was this same ship that Rafale had debarked from at Azura.

The design was clearly based on the Vantage-class corvette airframe, being of similar size and shape to the Timberwolves’ own Storm Warden, but several visual features stood out. For one, it was entirely unmarked. The rudder bore no tail number and the entire ship was painted a uniform grey color not unlike the Sova’s stealth paint job. Its engines were similarly configured for stealth, being integrated into the hull with square intakes and masked exhaust instead of the usual round external nacelles.

Rather than having an exposed gunner position on the rear deck, the cabin extended all the way to the stern. Firefly noted that the usual Vantage ARC ship’s heavy repeater appeared atop the main cabin, its mounting indicating that it was remotely operated from inside the vessel. This, too, was covered in angular panels, all coated with the same drab grey paint. Finally, the ship’s radio masts had been replaced with sleek radomes that blended in with its hull.

“Guess Rafale’s team really tricked it out for black ops,” she muttered to herself.

As she paced, Firefly mulled over everything that had happened. An ambush called in by a traitor. A stolen griffon superweapon. An unwilling assassin. A sudden promotion. A prison sentence turned black operation. The world was coming apart at the seams. Never in a thousand years had she expected the sheer insanity of the spy games and knives in the dark that now surrounded her.

Four years ago, she had been so cocksure, so certain that she could handle everything. Even after Valdus, the attitude of solving all problems with more ammunition and sharper blades persisted. The past week had dismantled all of that and more. Firefly found herself burdened with more responsibility than ever before as CAG but with less confidence and fewer resources than she had as a combat flier during the War.

It was sobering. It was humbling. It was terrifying.

But there was no one else she could trust with the mission. With the fleet compromised and Task Force Paladin operations in complete disarray, the Timberwolves may well have been the last bastion that the Crystal Empire had against the war that now ground its way toward its glittering shield domes. She had to do it. She had no choice.

Having finished her lap of the ship, Firefly trotted back to the dorm block and laid back down on her sleeping mat. No sleep would come, but there was little else to do until mission time. She breathed a heavy sigh of frustration and idly listened to Sunburst snoring.

“You’re awake, too?” Eastwind’s voice cut through the raucous drone coming from Sunburst’s muzzle. “Glad to know I’m not the only one old Sunshine’s keeping awake!”

Firefly barely cracked a smile. “Just had a lot to think about.”

“Yeah…” Eastwind trailed off. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll live,” Firefly said flatly. She paused a moment as an especially loud, half-snore half-snort from Sunburst interrupted. “It’s just... there’s so many things to keep track of. I feel like I’m always looking over my shoulder. Doing it in combat is one thing, but doing it when you’re supposed to be safe is nerve-wracking.”

“You’re not doing it alone, though. We’re here, too.”

“I’m eternally grateful for you, Windy. But I guess the jury’s still out on whether or not Thunderlane and Sunburst can find it in their hearts to forgive me.”

“We could wake them up and ask.”

“Nah, let ‘em sleep. They’ve been through a lot of shit these past couple days, what with all the cloak and dagger and IA horseapples being flung around. It’s a miracle the fleet hasn’t self-destructed yet.”

“Maybe it is. But we know who we can trust now.”

“Do we really? I want to trust Flyleaf and Brahma, but I don’t know if I should.”

“What does your gut say?”

“Funny hearing that coming out of the egghead in the squad.”

“Just because I think everything through doesn’t mean other ponies will!” She chuckled.

Firefly scowled. “That’s cold.”

“I kid,” Eastwind nickered. “What I meant was that you’ve known them both for long enough that you know the strength of their character. You were closer to both than the rest of us ever were. And you have good instincts for evaluating other ponies. Hell, you chose Thunderlane.”

“Thunderlane chose us. He could’ve DOR’d or elected to transfer to a less combat-intensive unit. He probably had the education and ASVAB scores to do any job he wanted in the military. But he stayed with us.

“And why do you think that is?”

Firefly shrugged, quickly realizing that it would not be visible in the near pitch darkness of the dorm chamber. “I dunno. Maybe he developed a taste for blood.”

“You know that’s not true. Just because he made ace in two weeks of operations doesn’t mean he wants to kill everyone he meets.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You can’t see me right now, but my eyes are doing multiple rolls!” Eastwind said, sarcasm dripping from every word. Her tone quickly sobered. “He’s your friend, Firefly. He never stopped being your friend. I promise he’ll listen.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I can hear every damn thing you two loudmouths are saying!” Thunderlane’s bedroll rustled and hooves fumbled on metal hangar floor as he groped in the dark. There was a muted click and the room was suddenly illuminated by the ghostly glow of a portable aether lamp. “Don’t talk about me, talk to me.”

Thunderlane sat up halfway on his bedroll, one hoof holding him up and the other rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A mask of irritation rested under his eyes, making obvious that he was quite unhappy with being woken. Firefly’s cheeks burned at Thunderlane’s interjection. Had she really been that loud? It had been no more than two weeks since she’d last spoken to Thunderlane without pulling rank, but it felt like years. What was she even supposed to say anymore?

“Well?” He pressed.

“Thunderlane,” Firefly began, finally sitting up on her bedroll.

She choked. She couldn’t even bear to look at him. He had looked up to her, joked with her, even offered to teach her how to dance. Firefly had hurt him -- deliberately -- when all he’d offered was to help her. The lump in her throat refused to go down, but she pushed herself forward.

“Thunderlane. I’m sorry.”

There was a pause as Thunderlane processed in his sleep-addled state exactly what was happening. He rubbed his eyes harder and blinked as if to clear the incredulity with his hoof. His right ear twitched and his eyes finally focused on Firefly’s face in the dim glow of the aether lamp.

“Firefly.” Thunderlane’s use of her name was halting, hesitant. Firefly could hear her rank on the tip of his tongue.

“I was wrong.” She continued, finally pouring out her apology. “I was projecting. I blew up and you got caught in the blast. I know I hurt all of you, but you had it the worst, Thunderlane. You have no reason to, but I hope you can forgive me.”

Thunderlane froze. Both ears were pinned now, the surprise clearly visible on his face. Firefly involuntarily pawed at the deck as Thunderlane seemed to cycle through several emotions; shock, fear, anger, contempt, finally settling on something Firefly couldn’t readily identify. Suddenly, he stood and galloped forward, making Firefly recoil in surprise. Thunderlane’s flying tackle nearly knocked her over, but he stopped just short of doing so.

He threw his hooves around her and squeezed her tightly. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back, jefa!”

A warm blanket of relief wrapped itself around Firefly along with Thunderlane’s hooves. The breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding finally left her lungs, taking with it any remaining fears. “You were right, Thunderlane. I need your help. I need you guys.”

“I know you’ve been hurting terribly. Friends help each other bear that pain, even if it hurts us, too. We’ll get through all of this together.” Thunderlane said, squeezing her even tighter. “You’ve gotta to talk to me, all right?”

“Of course. This was the loneliest week of my life without you guys!”

Firefly felt warmth on the back of her neck as Eastwind nuzzled her and put her hooves around Firefly. “Good to have you back, Fi!”

“Are you pukes done blubbering yet?” came the gravelly grumble from a sleepy Sunburst. “Papa needs his beauty sleep!”

“Get your wrinkly ass out of bed, abuelo!” Thunderlane whickered. “You should be in here, too!”

“I need to apologize to you, too, Sunburst,” Firefly said.

“All right, all right, I’m up.” Sunburst finally groaned as he rolled to his hooves. He rolled his head and cracked his neck, then made exaggerated stretching motions with their associated sounds. “But the kid’s right. Talk to us, Firefly. We can take it.”

“I’m talking to you now, old sire!”

Sunburst laughed as he trotted over and wrapped his front hooves around Firefly as well. “I may be an asshole, but I still love my friends. I need partners in crime or else I’d just be that old drunk bastard at the Horseshoe reliving his RDC days.”

“You’re already that to me, old sire!” Eastwind chimed in.

He shot her a dirty look. “Windy. We’re sharing a moment here. Will you let me have it just this once?”

Firefly squeezed Thunderlane tightly and extended her wings, wrapping one each around Eastwind and Sunburst. The cold of the hangar floor melted away, the warmth of her friends’ embrace bringing vigor back to tired bones and fallen spirit. Never before had Firefly been so grateful. Never before had she felt so loved. Tears welled up, overflowing her eyes as the love of her friends overwhelmed her.

BRRRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG.

Firefly stiffened at the sudden clanging of the alarm clock bells. She held the embrace a moment longer in defiance of the alarm before finally releasing. She looked at each of her squadmates, smiling as she swiped away tears with a fetlock. “Thank you.”

“It’s what friends do,” Eastwind said.

“And I’m glad for it. Now it’s time to suit up. I’ll go wake the dragons.”

“Hoo-yah.” Came the chorus of responses.

Firefly hoofed open the hatch to their dorm before easing it closed, allowing her team to suit up in peace. She trotted a few dorms down until she reached the one at the end of the block. Muted speech came through the bulkhead, which she paused to listen to before banging on the hatch. The conversation wormed its way between Draconic and Common, the harsh, consonant-heavy tongue spliced in between lines of speech actually understandable to Firefly.

“You are the last one I’d expect to have scold!” Firefly recognized the voice as Khog.

A female voice answered, which Firefly recognized as Roshina. Roshina’s incensed reply was in Draconic, countered with an equally livid response from Khog. There was a long pause as Roshina took a deep breath.

“I am secure in my convictions, Khog,” she finally said, far calmer than her previous outburst. “But that does not make this any easier. If you could look beyond your own snout you would understand! Consider why we’re even up here!”

“Were you not the one who preached against shackling ourselves?”

“Family still matters to me, Khog. If you think I’ve thrown that away on a whim you are sorely mistaken.”

“I hope for all of our sakes you are right.”

“Just keep your claws sharp.” Roshina hissed. “We still have a job to do!”

Khog’s reply in Draconic was one of weary assent. The hatch swung open, narrowly missing Firefly. Khog trudged out, pausing as he met Firefly’s gaze. He quickly dipped his head apologetically. “Commander.”

“Lieutenant,” Firefly gave a wary glance as she acknowledged him. Firefly turned as Roshina padded out of the hatchway. “What was all that about?”

“It was… a personal matter,” Roshina said, looking down.

Firefly cocked her head in puzzlement. Roshina’s usual confidence had waned. Her face was slack, her breaths ragged, and sacs hung heavy beneath her eyes. The hardened battle mage had withered to a tired drake.

“Roshina,” Firefly began, softening her tone considerably, “What happened?”

“Khog and I had a... disagreement. He is a capable fighter, but he often gets caught up in his own ideals for what a good and proper dragon should be doing; namely collecting fame and coin. You already know I believe we should strive beyond that.”

“I wasn’t asking about Khog. I was asking about you. You mentioned family. Did something happen to yours?”

Roshina sighed. “The Pyrian SOF community is my family, so anything that concerns them also concerns me, Khog included. Recent events involving ACG have forced me to split my attention between family and the northern front. I cannot say more than that without violating OPSEC. Suffice to say that the drama has been most tiring. I had hoped that it would wait until we had returned from deployment, but we may no longer have that luxury.”

“How will this affect our mission?”

Roshina shook her head. “It won’t affect this mission at all. But be forewarned that we may be recalled soon -- possibly as soon as after this sortie.”

Firefly could empathize. She had dealt with her fair share of drama in the fleet under Skywind. It was never fun and only got worse when peers were involved. Firefly could only imagine how much worse it would have to be to strain the relationships of Tier One special operators. Roshina’s last thought, however, was still discouraging.

“Recalled?”

“I’ll be going home in all likelihood,” Roshina nodded. “I suppose my time in the north has come to an end.”

Firefly frowned. Why would ACG recall their best operators when they were needed most? She muttered the answer to her own question under her breath, “Politics…”

“Politics,” Roshina echoed. “ACG high command orders and we must answer. At least the damned cold won’t be missed!”

“Damn shame,” Firefly sighed, glad to have the opportunity to lighten the mood. “We’ll miss having your firepower.”

“Well that’s uncharacteristically pragmatic of you, Firefly!” Roshina finally laughed out loud.

For a moment the self-confident mage shone through the coat of dreary exhaustion. Though the flash of joy did not last, Roshina appeared considerably more at ease after it had run its course. For now, she was still mission-ready.

“But if you still have doubts, I assure you I can handle this mission.”

“I trust you, Roshina.”

Roshina smiled. “Then your faith is legendary.”

“Only because my friends are legendary.” Firefly shot back playfully. “Once we finish this mission, we’re going to blow Cindermane’s entire operation wide open! Then we can all go home.”

“You seem in great spirits today.”

Firefly looked down the dorm block to where the Timberwolves emerged in full combat uniforms and cold weather gear. “I had a little help from my friends.”

“Hey! Rojo! You ready to kick some pirate ass?” Thunderlane’s boisterous greeting echoed throughout the hangar.

“Damn ready! My claws itch!” Khog stood at the ARC ship’s boarding ramp but replied with a hearty laugh, loud enough to be clearly heard at the far end of the dorm block. “The sooner we’re on that ship the better!”

“Someone seems quite eager for blood,” Grana snickered as she slinked out of the dragons’ dorm. She gave a nod of acknowledgement to Firefly before sauntering off to the ship.

A guttural growl emanated from the darkness of the dorm. Zaan emerged slowly, having to duck his head to fit through the hatch. Once outside, he stood to his full height, rolling his head to crack his neck and stretching his arms and his massive wings to their full span. A chuckle of satisfaction escaped his nostrils. The giant quickly followed after Grana.

“Guess everyone’s ready,” Firefly said. “Shall we?”

“With haste.”

By the time Firefly and Roshina had arrived at the ship, Rafale’s Maven team had already joined them. The ARC operators were loading the last of the equipment and munitions on board as the fliers gathered. Firefly noted that even the Timberwolves’ personal weapons had been packed, including her specialist repeaters and Sunburst’s Virago.

“Looks like the Admiral thought of everything,” she chuckled to herself.

“Bonjour, Commander.”

Firefly turned to face Rafale’s voice, extending a hoof in greeting. Rafale hesitated for a split second, shocked at Firefly’s sudden forwardness. She quickly recovered, however, and returned the gesture. If Firefly squinted hard enough, she could have sworn she saw a smile tug at Rafale’s lips.

“I trust your rest was sufficient?” the spymaster said.

Firefly grinned. “I’m good to go and my squads are suited up. Let’s get it done!”

20. Black Rain

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Firefly idly sneaked a glance out the porthole. Outside, endless sheets of white billowed down from an angry sky. The raging hellstorm had long since stripped the snow of its charm. Savage winds continuously battered the Vigilant-class ARC ship. It seemed the only things keeping it airborne were its advanced avionics and the sheer skill of its pilots. As if to drive home the point, the ship bucked again, nearly smashing Firefly’s muzzle into the porthole glass. She cursed under her breath.

The blizzard hid them from long-range radar and visual identification, but it would be a nightmare to fly through when they finally disembarked for the last leg of the journey. The mission timer on the radio operator’s console, however, had not yet finished its countdown to their final deployment point. Whenever they arrived, it would still be too soon for Firefly, but for now, she would remain safe and warm in the ARC ship’s cabin.

“At least the accommodations are cush,” she muttered to herself.

Indeed, the interior of Fortis was more spacious than the standard ARC ship, the lengthened superstructure of the Vigilant variant moving the weapon racks to a separate compartment where the stern exterior deck on the standard-issue Vantage would have been. The main cabin and the deployment compartment were separated by the remote station for the heavy repeater. A standing pony or griffon could control the gun via periscope from inside the ship. Boxes of heavy repeater linked ammo belts conspicuously occupied the racks closest to the gun station, with the feed system snaking around the interior components of the system. The hatch leading to the currently unused galley and sleeping quarters one deck down sat behind the gun station.

Firefly checked the clock embedded in the ARC ship’s radio console one more time before standing and trotting over to the table bolted into the deck in the rear compartment. All around the cabin, both squads hunched over in their seats as they weathered the battering from the storm. She rapped a hoof on the deck. Pony and dragon alike stood from their seats and gathered around the table, all eyes locked upon Firefly.

“All right, listen up. We’re nearing the drop point. I know you all got the dossier last night, but I’d rather keep it fresh before we launch.”

“I’m going to be frank,” she began, pacing around the table as she spoke. “I think everypony knows at this point that we have a rodent infestation on board ship. You were chosen for this operation because you were the only ones who could be trusted.

Quiet nods of assent propagated throughout the squads. “Cindermane thinks she’s struck a decisive blow against us. She will try to push her advantage, which means she won’t be watching her back. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who’s itching to twist a knife into it. I aim to put us where we can do exactly that. Rafale, if you would, the AO data, see voo plays.”

Rafale’s eyes briefly narrowed at Firefly’s butchering of Prench, but stood from her seat and stepped forward nonetheless, joining the circle. She fished a map out of her saddlebag and laid it out on the table. “Last night, we received a tip from a Talon defector known only as Hecate. They informed us that they would be delivering intel in the form of a dead drop in the abandoned city of Amore’s Rest.”

The agent’s hoof pointed to what appeared to be a circular glyph printed on the plain at the end of a serpentine length of canyon. Closer inspection revealed the “glyph” to be an arcane layout of streets, buildings, and dividing walls that made up a Crystal city. It was much smaller than Crystal Spire, but much denser in the urban area. According to the map scale, it would be difficult to even fly an ARC ship between some of the city streets near the center.

A dashed red circle denoted the perimeter of the shield dome that controlled weather inside the city. The extent of the city’s urban buildup was tangent to the south edge of the shield dome, right where the canyon mouth lay. That point was marked with a blue arrow indicating their insertion point.

“Amore’s Rest surfaced not long after Crystal Spire, but quickly became a victim in Cindermane’s conquest of the north. An attack on the city early in her campaign rendered it uninhabitable and its residents were quickly evacuated to Crystal Spire. With no forces to reclaim it and pirate presence thick in the Outer Rim, FleetCOM deemed it indefensible and elected not to mount any operations to retake the city. It has since fallen into disrepair.”

Rafale pointed to the center point of the urban buildup. “The center of Amore’s Rest is marked by the malfunctioning shield obelisk. Though it was heavily damaged during the initial attack, it retains just enough power to keep the hellstorm out -- but only just. Expect inconsistent weather and poor visibility within the dome.”

“You will disembark five klicks south of Amore’s Rest. You will then follow the canyons north until you arrive at the Empress’ Crown, the amphitheater near the farming district. From there, you will infiltrate the village and push toward the city center.

Rafale pulled a photograph from her saddlebag, this one depicting a large statue of what appeared to be a unicorn crystal pony. She was tall and leggy, proportioned more like an alicorn princess than an ordinary equine. Her luxurious mane flowed over her neck and withers, terminating in perfect curls, the same stylings being reflected in her equally well-coiffed tail.

A crystalline crown rested upon her head, marking her as the sovereign of the land. Even in statue form, her likeness bore a strong air of both graceful elegance and imposing magnificence. Her front right hoof was lifted as if preparing to take a step off her pedestal and her piercing gaze was resolutely focused upon the horizon. Were she not certain it were cast in dead metal, Firefly would expect the mare to stride from her resting place and lead forth an army.

“Near the obelisk is the Hushed Empress, a memorial to the Crystal Empire’s greatest leader, Empress Amore. Hecate’s transmission indicated that the drop would be placed in the vicinity of Empress’ Square, the park surrounding it. Unfortunately, they were no more specific than that so you may have to search entire park for the drop.”

“Ten majesties until the drop!” The copilot shouted back into the cabin.

“Time to wrap this up,” Firefly said.

“My briefing was just concluded, Commander.” Rafale nodded, stepping out of the circle. “I yield the deck to you.”

“Thank you, Rafale. Remember that this is an off the books operation. Maven team will be providing AEW from this ARC ship -- callsign Fortis -- but we will not have access to artillery, CAS, MEDEVAC, or reinforcements. No one is coming for us so we have to do this right the first time. Got it?”

“Hoo-yah!”

“Good. Get in your final flight checks. With any luck this will be a quick in and out.”

******

“Hooo, you see that ass on the Empress? I bet Amore was real babe back in the day!” Sunburst laughed, jabbing Thunderlane with an elbow.

Firefly tugged on the buckles on her combat harness, ensuring that the weight of her gear sat properly upon her shoulders. Her standard kit of repeater and scattergun were mounted, one over each shoulder, in addition to ballistic lance strapped to her back where a heavy pack saddle would ordinarily go. Utility pouches in her harness held a light load: a single individual first aid kit, MRE, and the usual canteens. With any luck, even that would be overkill.

“Funny, that sounded like you were actually there to gawk at her,” Eastwind chimed in.

“If I were, you could bet I would!”

“You weren’t?”

“I’m trying to ignore that old sire joke,” Sunburst huffed, giving Eastwind a sidelong glance.

Firefly rolled her eyes as she double-checked the cables connecting her triggers to the fire control system and her throat mic and earpieces to the wireless set on her chest. Her ire, however, was merely superficial. Sunburst’s crass inanity was comforting in its familiarity. The squad continued their banter as each of them slotted weapons into combat harnesses and cinched them down over their winterized uniforms.

“Do that shit back in the day and she’d probably have you locked up, abuelo!” Thunderlane nickered.

“I wouldn’t mind it! Sometimes it’s fun to have a mare take charge for once!”

“Your asshattery knows no bounds, Sunshine,” Firefly snorted in mock disdain. “Guess you have to gawk at even a dead girl’s ass, eh?”

“Thank you, Commander Killjoy!”

“I aim to please,” she smirked. “Yo Thunderlane!”

“Que pasa, Jefa?”

“Comms are unplugged.” She tapped a hoof on the comms box mounted to Thunderlane’s harness, indicating the dangling cable with a nod of her muzzle.

“Ah, thanks.” He grinned sheepishly as he corrected the problem. As Eastwind and Sunburst continued to bicker, he met eyes with Firefly. “You okay?”

“Well, the little heart to heart earlier certainly helped.” For the first time in a long time, the smile was spontaneous. “Thanks, kid.”

Thunderlane sighed with relief and grinned, in turn keeping Firefly at ease, a bit giddy even. They’d been deployed for months and it felt like ages. Now they were back to where they should have been: a tidy, cohesive unit; friends that trusted each other.

“Eh, I’m not one to hold grudges. But I’m also not one to push somepony into forced apologies.” He tapped on his chest with a hoof. “It has to come from the heart, you know.”

“Aye. I’m just sorry I didn’t come around sooner.”

“I can’t blame you for that. I’ve never lost someone like you did.”

“Pray to whatever gods you pray to that you never do.”

“I was never one to pray. Not like mama and papa, anyway.”

Religion had never particularly appealed to Firefly. There weren’t many praying types in her neighborhood back home in Fillydelphia, and even those who did usually only payed lip-service to long-dead ancestral gods. To everyone else, it was merely epithet. Her family itself had only one exception.

“Sounds like my uncle,” she said.

“The spec ops one?”

Firefly shrugged. “He technically never said either way. But now that I look back on it, his survival skills and how he handled a knife always told me he was. I never actually asked him before he passed. Always figured that if he wanted to talk about it he’d tell me himself.”

Thunderlane looked down at the deck as if he’d done something wrong. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be.” Firefly shook her head. “We all knew it was going to happen sooner or later. We prepared well and had proper closure.”

Closure. It was a luxury that Firefly hadn’t had with Powder. It took this long to even begin to close the wounds because of it.

“I’m glad.” Thunderlane nodded, looking back up. “But like I said, I don’t really pray. I do have faith in my friends, though!”

Faith was something Firefly put little stock in. The gods never watched over her. She had watched over herself, over her squadron, over her fleet. Whether they gave or not, she guarded them. It was her duty, her calling. But now there were others that put their faith in her, willingly giving a part of themselves to her in trust. It was no longer mere duty, but a bond that she refused to break, even in death.

“Attaboy!” Sunburst butted in. “Ready for some black flags and body bags, son?”

“Locked and loaded, abuelo!”

“Two majesties!” The copilot shouted back into the cabin.

It was time. Firefly patted down her equipment, slung her goggles down over her face, and powered on her weapons and gunsights. The repeater hummed as its turbopumps spooled and green symbols flashed in her field of view from the reflector displays in her goggles.

“Final checks, everyone! Spectacles, genitals, weapons, wireless!” Firefly barked. “Timberwolves!”

“Hoo-yah!” Came the unison reply.

“Typhon!”

“Wake up, Zaan!” Grana said, poking the big dragon right in the muzzle. Zaan grunted, glaring at his squadmate before lifting a claw in a “thumbs up” gesture to Firefly. It was enough to draw a laugh from the collected squads.

Roshina smirked, giving the same gesture. “My team is ready, Commander.”

The teams piled into the deployment chamber behind the gun turret. Sunburst slammed the hatch shut and locked it down. With the hatch sealed, the chamber went dark, illuminated a moment later by the deep crimson of the alert lamps.

“Remember, radio silence and noise discipline are in force,” Firefly reminded them. “Follow the pony in front of you. Stay low and go slow if you have to. It’s more important that we stay quiet than move fast!”

“Ten seconds!” came the copilot’s voice over the intercom.

“Ave Celestia Invictus and all that!” Sunburst nickered sarcastically. Firefly could almost hear Eastwind rolling her eyes.

The deployment bay hatch slid open. Firefly winced at the sudden blast of vicious frost and chill wind that momentarily fogged her goggles before the temperatures within them equalized. A quick glance below revealed swirling bands of snow and an outline of the gaping gash of the canyons. Firefly’s mental countdown began, syncing with the ARC operator’s countdown.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

The ready lamp by the exterior hatch flashed red, then changed to a solid green. “Light is green! Go! Go! Go!”

Firefly leaped. Wind borne snow swallowed her up in swirling white eddies. For a fleeting moment, she was suspended in a field of star-like flakes glittering in the faded morning light. Firefly closed her eyes to avoid being mesmerized by the display. Gravity took over once more and she fell through the raging hellstorm. Her pegasus senses alerted her to the change in the air as the ground rapidly approached.

Her wings snapped open to arrest her freefall. The snow thinned dramatically past the canyon lip and the humid air from the river surface wafted up to meet her. Her altitude stabilized a few tens of meters above river level. Visibility improved slightly as the snow faded into a light drizzle from the heat. Firefly glanced behind her waved a hoof. A flash of running lights from behind indicated that her squads were in tow.

The canyon was geologically active like much of the Crystal Empire's territory. Not a single floe of ice sat upon its surface; in fact there was steam rising from it. Hot springs from the canyon walls poured into the river, their plunge pools ringed by strange orange and red flora. The faint smell of sulfur told Firefly that the water would likely be toxic to any greenery that found itself unfortunate enough to be caught out here.

Twists and turns in the canyon forced myriad course corrections. The path became erratic. Strange pillars of black stone jutted out of the middle of the river in places and out of the canyon walls in others. The crystal glinted strangely in the dim light and passing near them elicited shivers from the sudden cold, even in the midst of the geothermal heat from the river’s surface. But just as suddenly as they had begun, they stopped, becoming deep browns and greys. Noticeably absent, however, was the smell of sulfur.

Finally, the canyon opened up into what appeared to be an inland river delta. A grey haze hung low over the river, tapering off to snow and ice as the water cooled enough to allow accumulation. Cutting across the delta was an abrupt line of demarcation. The shield dome. Firefly thought. She banked around the last bend in the canyon and descended to a few meters above ground level.

Even from a distance, it was easy to see the dome was not fully functional. The shimmering layer flickered on and off like a candle in the wind. At times, the dome even became fully opaque, its milky white surface masking all that lay beneath. In spite of its malfunctions, however, the hellstorm still failed to penetrate it. Firefly’s eyes narrowed as the flights neared the boundary.

Suddenly, Firefly pulled up, frantically motioning with her hoof for the others to do the same. She barely cleared the wall of compressed foliage that had piled up against the shield dome. Looking back, she could see exactly what had happened. The city lay abandoned, its farmlands left to grow unchecked. The vines and shrubbery had overgrown their bounds and pushed through the shield dome, only to be frozen and killed by the vicious cold outside. Through cycles of growth, death, and regrowth, a massive unpruned hedgerow had grown in the boundary between the magically fertile river delta and the frozen wasteland on the far side of the terminator.

Firefly was immediately blasted with warm air inside the dome upon crossing its shimmering surface. While the river surface in the canyon was akin to early spring, the city proper was swathed in high summer, complete with humidity that hugged the skin and seeped into her coat and mane. Black rain fell from the shimmering sky, a sickly admixture of hellstorm snow liquefied by the flickering shield dome and the ashy dust of urban decay wafting about on wild winds unchecked by pegasi or the obelisk. Firefly grumbled to herself about the malfunctioning weather and resisted the urge to do so over wireless as well.

Ahead loomed their objective. The Empress’ Crown Amphitheater rose out of the verdant carpet of overgrown farmland. Elegant arches of stone and concrete stacked one atop another formed walls that surrounded a central pit. Firefly banked into a spiraling descent that took her over the walls, the tiered seating, and finally allowed her to touch down in the center. From the inside, the amphitheater appeared even more colossal, its walls towering above ground level and casting long shadows upon the dilapidated pitch.

The others quickly fluttered in for a landing. They touched down in a circle around Firefly with guns and claws pointed outward. Wind whipped through the coliseum arches and rustled orchard trees and shrubbery to the south, but the city itself remained eerily silent. Obtaining a quick headcount, Firefly checked her chronometer and spoke.

“We’re on schedule. The Hushed Empress isn’t far, but we’ll have to stick to the streets to avoid detection. Follow me, keep quiet, and we’re all coming home tonight.”

21. The Hushed Empress

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In its heyday, Amore’s Rest would have been a bustling city full of vigorous activity. The sheer overgrowth of the magical farmland around the delta and still-thick orchards near the coliseum bore testament to the productivity of just the city’s farms. Damage from the final battle remained. Entire chunks of the taller buildings had been torn away by artillery shell impacts and shell casings from small arms and Alliance artillery pieces littered the ground near the city walls.

At the edge of the first orchard lay a large trench that now lay overgrown with greenery. At trench’s end was the burned out husk of an Equestrian frigate, a gaping hole in its starboard hull pointing skyward. The vessel had nearly been consumed by vines, but even the overgrowth had failed to erase the wound that had felled it.

Firefly led the squads on foot under cover of the remaining orchards until they reached the wall. Rain had failed to wash away signs of fighting. Blast shadows persisted in spite of the constant drizzle, large divots and cracks marred the outer stone surface, and the shattered carriages and blown out barrels of destroyed Alliance artillery crowned the battered ramparts. One section on the southwest side had fallen away completely, likely the victim of a Talon siege gun.

Firefly gestured toward the breach with a hoof. “That’s our entry point.”

She half-climbed, half-flew up the fallen stone on the outside before digging her hooves in to slow her skid down the inner slope. One by one the squads silently followed. Their entrance secured, Firefly scanned the area and paired up landmarks with the map they had reviewed.

“One klick north. Let’s go.”

The stone buildings and earthy color palette of Amore’s Rest proper stood in stark contrast to Crystal Spire’s sleek, sharp crystalline lines and layout. Whereas the capital seemed cut by a titan who fancied jewelry, Amore’s Rest appeared to be grown organically from the earth itself. Curved streets meandered between tightly-packed row houses and only the occasional decorative crystal obelisk indicated that this was any place other than a quaint Equestrian town.

Despite its rustic charm, however, Amore’s Rest was still a war zone. Within the walls, signs of old activity lingered, an eerie snapshot of life before the exodus. Abandoned merchant stands lined the thoroughfares. Locked up houses lay dormant, still awaiting their masters’ return. Storefronts stood empty, their windows smashed and their goods long ago looted.

They passed more signs of conflict in the streets. Craters had been carved out of the street by explosions and broken pieces of building stone remained where it had fallen months ago. Building facades were riddled with bullet holes and signage had been shot to splinters by bullets and shrapnel. There was, however, a noticeable lack of bodies and bloodstains.

The last leg of the trip was the most difficult. An airship had broken up over the city during the fight, its pieces crashing down upon the exact blocks through which Firefly would have to navigate. She cursed and pulled her troops into a nearby derelict building to consult the paper map.

By now, all of those who could sweat were doing so profusely. Their flight jackets had long since been doffed and lashed down to their combat saddles. Even with natural coats exposed, the heat and humidity remained oppressive as ever. Dragons did not sweat, but Grana and Khog were noticeably uncomfortable, their usual vigor melting into trudging consternation.

“Take five. Drink some water, sit for a bit while I figure out a detour around the wreck.”

“Are we there yet?” Sunburst snarked.

“Sunshine, when we extract, I’m strapping you to the keel of the ARC ship, got it?”

Sunburst nearly choked on his drink as he laughed into his canteen. “After sweating my balls off in this hellhole, feeling the arctic breeze running over them will be a relief!”

“Gross!” Eastwind stuck out her tongue in disgust. “I’ll soak up the heat while I can. When we get back out there I’ll be chilled to the bone again.”

“Nothing like Cirria, eh?”

“Nothing like it. Sometimes they made snow for the fillies to play in, but we all knew it was temporary. Rest of the time it was nothing but heat blowing in off the Saddle Arabian coast during the dry season.”

“I’d imagine that was dry heat, though,” Thunderlane said, swiping a fetlock across his brow. “You breathe deep enough and you’ll drown in this!”

“Something the matter, Grana?” Firefly noted the dragon’s pensive stare out the window.

“This first battle here, such a shame,” she said. “These Crystal Ponies were just caught in the crossfire.”

Innocuous as the words initially were, Firefly could immediately sense dis-ease descend upon the squad. “Yeah the pirate attack sucked. But the Alliance got who they could out before the pirates came back. We saved lives. That’s what matters.”

“The Alliance brought their war here.”

Firefly’s hoof gouged a channel in the softened floorboards. The rush of emotion from that night at the Horseshoe when they’d first encountered Typhon slammed into her like a tidal wave. For one fleeting moment, Firefly wished nothing more than to be able to punch Grana in the mouth. Even if it was just the clipped, prim, Pyrian accent that put a smug edge on her voice and not actual malice, Firefly struggled to restrain her hoof. Now was neither the time nor the place for this argument. Regulations and mission required that she keep her emotions in check.

“We’re here to get a job done, not debate politics!” Firefly slammed her hoof into the floorboards, drawing all eyes and ears to her. She glared daggers at Grana, her voice falling to a low growl. “I don’t like pulling rank, Lieutenant. But unless you have something mission-relevant to say, I don’t want to hear another word out of your damn mouth! Understood?”

Grana balled a fist and gritted her teeth. Firefly’s knife hoof twitched. For a tense moment, it appeared a fight might break out in the dilapidated house. Finally, Grana took a deep breath, meeting Firefly’s gaze but unable to match its intensity. She looked down, relaxed her fist, and nodded.

“Understood, Commander.”

An uncomfortable beat of silence lingered before Eastwind finally changed the subject. “Do we have a route yet?”

Firefly nodded slowly, her voice still rough coming off her anger high. “We can exit this building through the west entrance and follow the alleys two blocks over. Then we’ll turn north and continue toward the Empress’ Square. Understood?”

“Aye,” came the chorus of acknowledgments.

Firefly stowed her map and trotted to the back door of the building. The door creaked open slowly, its hinges rusted in the tropical air. Firefly gave it a shove, finally freeing it and allowing them to exit into the next street.

The Timberwolves continued north. As they neared the city center, the black drizzle broke into a downpour. Thunder roared above and building shadows danced beneath violet flashes of forked lightning. Firefly led her team through the mass of awnings in the street in a vain attempt to stay dry. The sooty spray kicked up by movement and unpredictable gusts of wind clung to coats and scales in a slick film of dirty gray.

Finally, the labyrinthine streets terminated in the circular cobblestone plaza of the city center. To the north, the shadow of the shield obelisk loomed. Lightning arced around it, highlighting the scars of war in fleeting flashes of ghostly fluorescence. Firefly squinted into the haze.

In the middle of the plaza stood the monument to Empress Amore. Dwarfed as she was by the obelisk, the statue still towered over Firefly and her troops. Amore’s visage was every bit as stoic and defiant as it was in Rafale’s photograph. Even after Tartarus had opened its gates and spewed forth hellfire around her, the Empress persisted untouched by the ravages of war and time.

Wind, rain, and thunder provided ample audible cover as Firefly smashed the lock to the door of a three-story structure overlooking the plaza. She swept her weapon across the room as the Timberwolves breached. The smell of wet earth and old paper wafted into Firefly’s nostrils. It appeared the ground floor was a shop, a bookstore judging by the myriad shelves and rotting tomes slotted into them.

“Typhon, hold the ground floor. Timberwolves, sweep the upper levels.”

The troops fanned out through the building, sweeping weapons over every sight line on the ground floor. With the first level cleared, the Timberwolves stacked and swept their way up the rear stairs to the second level. At the top of the stairs, the floor split into two apartment spaces. Firefly shouldered in the first door, weapon at the ready.

Dead air was the only greeting. Loose articles of clothing and dropped books and trinkets were scattered about the common room and the bedroom. Dishes and pots in the sink remained unwashed. The occupants appeared to have departed in a hurry, leaving an eerie snapshot of prewar life. Having completed her sweep with Thunderlane, Firefly trotted back into the stairwell. She was greeted by Eastwind, who shook her head, indicating that the other apartment was also clear.

Finally, they pushed into the uppermost level. The roof of the building was partially caved in, the victim of a light artillery shell. The side facing the plaza was now fully open, leaving a panoramic view of the entire park. The rest of the upper level appeared to be cold storage. Various crates and metal tube shelving bearing partially scorched books and clothing occupied the remaining space.

“Sunburst, Eastwind.” Firefly pointed to toward the square. “I need a sniper position here, overlooking the park. Report back to me once you’ve completed a survey of the area. We need to figure out if we’re alone here.”

“Aye.”

“Thunderlane, with me. We’re heading back down.”

Sunburst and Eastwind dropped their packs and unhitched their weapons, getting to work preparing the hide. Firefly turned and headed back down the stairs. Upon arrival downstairs, she dumped her pack and jacket on the counter of the bookstore and withdrew the map again. She unrolled the map on a nearby coffee table, rotating it this way and that until it lined up with the landmarks she could see through the shop windows. Picking up a few scattered books, Firefly anchored the corners of the map and leaned over it.

“Anything magical coming up, Roshina?” she asked without looking up.

“I sense nothing save the interference from the obelisk. We are safe from arcane threats, for now.”

“See if you can get some minor wards set up. I want to be safe from basic scrying but not so much that we’re lit up like a magic beacon. Khog, Zaan, Grana, and Thunderlane, keep an eye out. I don’t want anyone getting the jump on us from ground level.”

“Aye.”

“Now we wait,” Firefly muttered, mostly to herself.

******

“You’ve probably figured it out by now, but there is not a gods-damned bit of cover out there,” Sunburst said. “Nice and artsy, but terrible if you’re looking for a firefight.”

Firefly rubbed her forehead as she thought through the opening of the briefing. “We’ll have to work around that.”

“You expect us to sweep the entire plaza with no cover?” Khog hissed. “Do you want us all to be sniper bait?”

Firefly’s hoof involuntarily clawed at the floorboards. Khog was being his usual self and jumping the gun. She didn’t know if the heat and humidity was starting to get to everyone or if there was still lingering tension from the earlier clash with Grana.

“That’s not what I said, Khog!” Firefly growled. “No, we won’t have cover. But we’re not gonna run in there like a bunch of drunken yaks, either! Sunburst, continue.”

“Are you always that premature, Red?” Sunburst sneered, drawing a chuckle from the Timberwolves and an annoyed growl from Khog. An exasperated sigh from Firefly set him back on track. “There’s no hard cover, but Windy and I noticed that the storm blows fog through the city every three to five minutes or so; perfect visual concealment.”

“That’s our in.” Firefly nodded. “Windy, any ideas on where the drop is?”

“There appear to be only two places within the plaza the drop could be hidden.” Eastwind circled two locations on the map with a pencil before continuing. “One is the admin building to the northeast. The other is the monument itself. Everywhere else we checked was just broken planters and empty park benches. There is literally nothing else out there.”

“Potential ambush sites?”

“Everywhere and anywhere?” Sunburst chuckled. “You find a crack in a wall anywhere in this city and you can probably stuff a birdlion in it!”

Eastwind glared at him. “Thankfully a short list. It looks like the park was hit pretty hard during the initial battle. Most of the buildings around the perimeter of the park are nothing but rubble. It’s a miracle this building we’re in is still standing.”

She pointed to a building near one of the objective markers. “First, there’s a two-story building on the northwest end of the plaza opposite the admin building. We didn’t see any activity there, but it has direct line of sight to both this hide’s north exit and the admin building.”

“Second, there’s a temple on the east side.” Eastwind slid her hoof to the west side of the plaza on the map near the other marker. “It has a large steeple that’s an ideal sniper perch. Again, zero activity, but it has direct line of sight to the monument. You will be covered on your approach and while clearing the admin building but not while you’re searching the statue.”

“Anything else?” Firefly looked to her wingmare before turning to Sunburst. “Sunshine?”

“Nope. That covers everything.”

“All right, listen up!” Firefly barked her orders.

“That means you, Khog,” Roshina snickered. Khog growled in consternation.

Firefly pointed to the objective markers as she made her assignments. “Roshina and Khog, you’ll skirt the outer edge of the plaza to the west search the Hushed Empress.”

“Understood, Commander.”

“Thunderlane, you’re with me. We’re going to follow the alleys to the east and then cut across the plaza to the admin building.” She pointed to each of the team members as she mentioned them. “Sunburst and Eastwind, I want you to maintain overwatch on the plaza. Grana and Zaan, you’ll be on standby as QRF and ground level security for the hide. We maintain radio silence unless shit goes south. Questions?”

The room remained silent. “Get to your posts. We move on the next storm cycle.”

Firefly slipped her goggles down and armed her repeater. The away team assembled at the north door of the building while the sniper team ascended the stairs to their perch. All remaining troops on the ground floor eagerly watched the windows as they awaited the shifting mist to return.

Slowly, the storm thickened. Soot-black rain was joined by a seething, grey fog that rolled in through the streets, finally collecting in the plaza. Firefly spotted eddies swirling around corners and wispy vortices forming around signposts indicating that the wind was still blowing strongly.

“Go time,” she said, gesturing with her muzzle toward the door. Firefly pushed open the door just long enough to exit, allowing the four time to step out before the springs pulled it shut again. They as they departed the building, Firefly and Thunderlane heading right and Roshina and Khog heading left.

Tepid raindrops splattered upon Firefly’s goggles. Undulating rills snaked down her face and neck. The world faded into a dim mist, a stifling miasma that smothered the senses. It was a far cry from the soft haze that lingered around her uncle’s old cabin outside Fillydelphia after a spring rain. This was rotting mist in black rain in the heart of a dead city. There were no walls to shield her, no comforting patter of rain on corrugated metal sheeting, and no protection from whatever lurked beneath the hellstorm.

Firefly quickly glanced behind her to ensure that Thunderlane was still in tow. The rookie flashed a grin and gestured ahead in encouragement. As she led on, Firefly couldn’t help but crack a wry grin. Thunderlane’s spirit was inextinguishable.

A squat, square stone building no bigger than a base prefab hut materialized out of the mist ahead. The southeast corner was caved in from an artillery hit, as indicated by the splintered cobbles outside. Firefly slowed her pace, inching forward with weapon raised. She flipped the switch on her harness with a hoof to activate her flashlight.

The searing white light burned away the darkness inside the admin building. Motes of moisture danced in front of Firefly’s face, scattering the light into a softly glowing beam. Assorted notebooks and papers lay scattered about the floor and counters. The smell of moldy paper hammered Firefly’s nostrils.

“Looks clear, Jefa,” Thunderlane said, finishing the sweep of his half of the structure. “Guess we’re the only ones here.”

“Look for anything out of place. Hecate said nothing about what form the drop would take, but it’s definitely more recent than the rest of this.”

Milky white circles of illumination danced around inside as the two furiously searched. Firefly rummaged through reams of rotted records, tattered log books, old seat cushions, and the remains of a wooden storage trunk. The trunk yielding nothing of interest, Firefly moved on to the metal storage cabinets on the wall.

“What a mess,” she grumbled.

“Hey, I think I have something,” Thunderlane whispered.

“Let’s take a look.”

Thunderlane brushed some loose paper off an innocuous-looking pile by the front counter. Beneath it, lay a military ammunition canister clearly marked for Aquellian machine gun rounds. Firefly raised an eyebrow.

“This definitely doesn’t belong here.”

She reached down and opened the latch. Inside was not ammunition, but a single clipboard-sized metal plate with an aetherium gem embedded where a the clip would have been. Placing her hoof upon it caused the gem to faintly glow, projecting four floating squares just above the surface of the plate.

“It’s an amanuensis tablet,” Thunderlane stared in fascination. “This has to be the dead drop.”

“All right,” Firefly nodded. “We’ve got the package. Time to signal Roshina so we can fall back.”

Firefly put a hoof up to the west window of the admin building, wiping away some of the sooty grime that had blown in from outside. If she squinted, she could just make out the outline of the Hushed Empress in the center of the plaza. Amore’s shadow loomed heavy in the mist, rimmed by the weak trickle of sunlight through the stormclouds and backlit by periodic flashes of lightning above.

“We’ll have to wait for the next storm cycle. Looks like it’s clearing up.”

The fog began to lift shortly after Thunderlane spoke. Wind howled through the broken walls of the admin building, throwing up fragments of stone dust, sooty rain, and what few dry leaves of paper remained. Misty wisps flowed through the city streets, funneling outwards until the plaza was suddenly clear again.

A flurry of activity at the base of the Hushed Empress caught Firefly’s eye. Khog pointed to something near the hoof of the Empress. Roshina immediately reached to retrieve it.

“What the hell are they doing?”

“Wait,” Thunderlane blurted. “If we have the package, then what’s that?”

Firefly saw the flash first. The side of the statue scintillated and sparked as a lance of liquid fire erupted upon impact, slicing through the air behind it. Adrenaline surged through Firefly’s veins at the sound of thunder against cast metal.

Her pupils narrowed to pinpricks and the dull hammer strokes of heartbeats hammered her skull as the scene unfolded before her in slow motion. Through the cracked, dirty glass, Firefly helplessly watched as the glowing lance pierced Roshina’s body. Thunderlane’s shocked cry echoed the chilling realization that swept through her like bitter frost.

“SNIPER!”

22. Prey

View Online

The world snapped back into motion. Firefly hammered her radio PTT switch. “All Timberwolf elements, this is Wolf Lead, I’m authorizing you to break radio silence! Does anyone have a bead on that sniper?”

“Mierda! Was that a thirty?”

Thirty as in thirty millimeter, the caliber of an Aquellian autocannon round fired from a sniper rifle. Firefly bristled at Thunderlane’s mere mention of it. She’d seen close-up what they could do.

Firefly watched Khog scramble to pull Roshina back behind cover, propping her up against the base of the monument. She was still moving and conscious enough to apply pressure to her own wound from what Firefly could see. That itself was a good sign.

The rasping breaths of a rattled dragon came over the comms. “Commander, this is Khog. Roshina is hit!”

“I’m fine! That shooter is a complete neophyte! It’s just a flesh wound!” Roshina growled, her anger incensed by her injury. “Firefly, we have the package!”

“And so do we,” Firefly said grimly. “Things just got a whole lot more complicated. We have no idea which one is the real one so we need to bring them both in.”

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” Khog snarled. A shuffling noise could be heard over the radio. “There! That should stop the bleeding for now, but we’re still pinned here!”

“Roshina, can you still cast a shield spell?”

“No infantry shield can survive that kind of firepower for long.”

“Stay put, then!” Firefly ordered. “Don’t move or you’ll make yourselves a bigger target!”

“Not like we have much of a choice!” Khog growled roughly. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it quickly!”

“Fortis, I need an emissives scan, pronto!”

“Negative on emissives, Wolf Lead. The target is completely radio silent. We have nothing to triangulate.”

“Gods dammit! We flew right into a trap!” Firefly slammed her hoof into the crumbling wall of the admin building in frustration. “Wolf Three, what have you got?”

“The sniper hides we scoped out earlier are empty,” Eastwind said. Even through the radio, Firefly could hear the disbelief in her voice. “Give me time to make another sweep!”

There was hardly time for anything. For all Firefly knew, there could be multiple shooters just waiting for them to move into line of sight. Firefly’s mind raced. The temple was empty. The shops next door were empty. Sunburst had full line of sight to the entirety of the perimeter of the park. If the shooter had moved or set up to take the shot, they would have spotted it.

What had they missed?

“Khog, I have an idea.” Thunderlane’s voice jarred Firefly from her own head. “Do you see where the round impacted?”

“Yes. There’s a blast crater in the cobbles where it hit.”

“Damn feathernecks and their HE rounds!” Sunburst grumbled.

“Focus!” Firefly ordered. “Thunderlane, what’s your angle?”

“The hellstorm is blocking visibility into and out of the city and the wind shear near the shield dome would make shooting through it damn near impossible. They have to be in the city proper with direct line of sight to the plaza!” Thunderlane explained. “Khog, from my angle, I saw it hit the statue before it detonated. Can you find the impact mark?”

“Yes,” Khog peeked out for a split second before returning to huddling behind the statue. “I see it. It’s on the statue’s left shoulder.”

“Draw a line between the two! Where does it point?”

Firefly watched Khog trace his finger in the air as he visualized the bullet’s trajectory. “It points up. The shot came from above and to the north!”

“Windy, Sunburst, check positions elevated above your initial sweep in the northern sector! We need to find their hide!”

“Wait. The obelisk!” Eastwind’s voice jumped at the epiphany. “Could they be in the obelisk?”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me!” Sunburst roared. “Celestia’s tits and ass, I should have seen it!”

The second shot was just as sudden as the first. Cobbles behind the statue went flying at the crack of the next high explosive round. Firefly ducked as a fragment of stone smashed through the window just in front of her, showering her with sooty glass fragments and dirty rain.

“Sunburst, look for that muzzle flash! Thunderlane, I need fire at the top of the obelisk on my mark.”

“We’re never going to be able to hit them at that range!”

“We don’t need to. We just need to piss them off enough to shoot at us!”

Firefly shouldered open the far door in the admin building. She strode out and sighted in at the top of the obelisk. Thunderlane filed in behind her and repeated her movements.

“On three. One. Two. THREE!”

Firefly dialed in and fired, followed shortly by Thunderlane. Two streams of violet tracers lanced out into the the mist, veering wildly as the bolts were buffeted by wind and rain. Firefly watched a few splash against the bluish crystal of the shield obelisk, each one leaving a shower of sparks. Most of them, however, flew far past the obelisk, winking out as their containment field collapsed and the packet of superheated aether dispersed.

“Over here, asshole!” She shouted into the storm.

In spite of the furious barrage, the cobbles near the statue exploded once again. Another high-explosive round skipped off the impenetrable Empress and blew a crater into the plaza grounds just in front of Roshina, this one even closer. Firefly unleashed another burst at the obelisk all the while shouting curses at her foe.

“They’re ignoring us!” Thunderlane shouted above the gunfire.

“Smug bastard! They know we can’t get to them!” Firefly growled. “Sunburst, what have you got?”

“Single muzzle flash about three-quarters of the way up, nestled into a crack in the outer shell of the obelisk.”

“Finally a break! Windy, what do our flanks look like?”

“Single muzzle flash,” Eastwind echoed. “Other potential sniper nests are still dark.”

The officer in Firefly seized upon her sudden realization. The ambush had been sprung. There was a team pinned in the middle of the plaza with no means of egress. Now would have been the perfect time to close the trap and annihilate or capture the remaining troops. But there were no ground forces assaulting from the flanks. There was no airship dropping out of the clouds. Firefly keyed her radio. She had to be sure.

“Fortis, emissives status.”

“Still dark, Wolf One.”

Her suspicions were confirmed. “Timberwolf, Typhon, they’ve only got one ops team, single shooter. No radio transmissions means no coordination and no additional squads.”

“Great, so that means there’s only one sniper who can take any of our heads off at any time!” Sunburst snorted sarcastically.

“It means we have a numbers advantage! We can take these guys!” Firefly countered. “Sunburst, load HE-I and smoke ‘em out! Three rounds!”

“Do what now?”

“Load HE-I!” She repeated. “Go!”

“Aye!”

Another beat of silence made it seem like the world had stopped. Then came thunder, one boom after another. The Virago’s reports echoed through the ruined city. Explosive brilliance blossomed from the obelisk’s shell, three quick gouts of flame spouting from the crack in the crystal before being rapidly extinguished by by rain. It took a few seconds for the crack of the payload detonations to hit Firefly’s ears. Smoke poured out of the crevasse, the billowing column thrashing violently in the wind.

“Thunderlane, with me! We have to keep the initiative!”

Even before the smoke had subsided Firefly was out the door and airborne. She flared ever so slightly on takeoff to give Thunderlane time to catch up. But as soon as his hooves had left the ground she power flapped harder, launching herself toward the smoking obelisk. A flick of her tail adjusted her trajectory out of the path of any incoming rounds from Sunburst’s rifle.

“Windy, BDA.”

“Inconclusive,” came the spotter’s reply. “Lots of smoke. Can’t ID bodies in this mess.”

“Sunburst, keep that hide surveilled. If anyone else comes out of it I want them shot dead. Fortis, get down to the plaza and prepare for emergency CASEVAC.”

Before the answer came over the airwaves, Firefly already knew what Roshina would say. “Firefly, I am fine. Allow us to join the search.”

“You’re injured,” Firefly’s response was brusque. “Get back on the ship!”

“Firefly—”

“We don’t have time for this! Don’t make me pull rank, Roshina!”

Roshina let out a crestfallen sigh. But a moment later, her signature toothy grin returned, a grin Firefly could hear through the radio. “Why the sudden surge of maternal instinct?”

“Because I’m commanding a bunch of foals!” Firefly snorted in mock contempt. “Now pack that tabs up and get to the ship!”

“What about us?” Grana said.

“Grana and Zaan, get airborne and cover the northwest ward. If they call for help I want QRF in blocking positions to hold them off.” Acknowledgment chorused through the airwaves. “Let’s finish these bastards, Thunderlane!”

They nosed toward the obelisk, slightly varying altitude and heading regularly to avoid being an easy target. Every minute airborne was spent looking for signs of life at the obelisk. Firefly expected gunfire and airbusting grenades to erupt in short order, but none appeared. In the midst of the howling tempest there was uneasy respite.

Hard, smooth crystal the color of jade resolved itself as they neared. Seemingly grown from the earth itself, the strange substance formed the whole of the obelisk’s outer shell. The sheer size of the shield obelisk did not fully set in until Firefly was very nearly in physical contact with it. Driving rain mixed with the shimmering crystalline surface to give it the illusion of growing in both directions, simultaneously shooting up into the sky and piercing the ground below.

Closer inspection revealed that the obelisk’s surface was pocked with craters and riddled with cracks. The base of the tower was littered with fragments of the same jade-colored crystal that had fallen away from the tower shell. Embedded pieces of twisted metal and stubborn blast shadows baked into the outer shell explained their origins. Whether the artillery impacts were wayward or deliberate, they were clearly the source of the obelisk’s malfunctions. No arcs of arcane lightning or faint glow of faerie fire caught Firefly’s eye, but a steady hum saturated the air near the tower, resonating in her chest and tickling her belly. The magic of the obelisk stubbornly persisted.

“I got nothing, jefa. No runners, no shooters.”

“Eyes peeled. We’re coming up on the hide.”

The smoke was just beginning to clear as they arrived. Black wisps reeking of spent propellant and ignited explosives wafted out of the deep gash in the obelisk’s shell. Firefly could now see two artillery strikes compressed the material between them, warping, cracking, and then shattering it into pieces that fell away into the plaza below. This left a large crevasse roughly two ponies wide and four ponies tall that she could fly through if she chose. Firefly instead slowed to a hover just outside the entrance.

Thunderlane took up position on the opposite side. He nodded to her and directed his weapon toward the darkness within. Firefly reached a hoof to her harness and flipped on her tactical light. With careful wing flaps, she inched forward until her hooves finally touched solid ground.

Firefly swept her light, pieing the entrance carefully. The crack in the obelisk’s outer shell opened into an artificial chamber. At least, Firefly assumed it was artificial. It was as if a squat, cylindrical slice of the tower had been excised to produce what appeared to be an observation deck. A single cylindrical pillar occupied the center with a twin door that Firefly assumed was an elevator. The floor was perfectly parallel with the ceiling and a cursory inspection was enough to reveal that the walls were perfectly smooth, or at least meant to be. The same battle damage that scarred the outside also left spalled debris and spiderweb cracks on the inside.

Even in the shadow of the hellstorm, light still filtered in from outside, dimly illuminating the inner chamber. The outer shell appeared semi-transparent from inside despite appearing opaque from the outside. A quick glance behind her showed the admin building and the Hushed Empress, both visible through the outer shell. Firefly continued her sweep.

In the milky beam of white, the extent of the damage became apparent. The odor of fire and metal was nearly overwhelming. Embers still smoldered on the floor from where the Virago’s high-explosive incendiary rounds had ignited wood and upholstery. Any remaining furnishings within the observation deck had been all but obliterated. Another smell slithered in beneath the propellant — a sharper, acrid odor that stung Firefly’s eyes even under her goggles.

She immediately recognized it as burnt flesh. Her flashlight beam confirmed the grisly suspicion. Blood splatters stained the floor and wall all over where burning explosive from the HE-I rounds and incidental spall from the obelisk had saturated the chamber, leaving a bloody trail in their wake. Firefly grimaced as the flashlight beam finally fell upon the unmoving body of a Talon marine slumped against the exterior wall.

“Found a body. Thunderlane, get in here.”

Wingbeats thrummed behind her and the clip-clop of hooves neared, finally stopping just short of her position. Another pool of light appeared, starting on the ceiling and rapidly snapping to the body as Thunderlane flipped on his light. Without looking back, she motioned toward the body with a hoof. Firefly could hear Thunderlane shift his aim and train his weapon on the body.

Firefly stepped forward, kicked the dead griffon’s weapon away, and leaned in to inspect the body. This griffon’s face had been badly lacerated. Evidence of shrapnel wounds covered her body and the tips of many of her feathers were blackened by the explosions. A gash across her neck from which blood still oozed appeared to be the deathblow. Firefly reached down and gingerly pressed a hoof to the blood matted feathers of her neck.

“No pulse,” Firefly whispered. “Body’s still warm, but she’s definitely dead.”

“I’ve got another one over there,” Thunderlane called.

Firefly swung her beam around, illuminating the subject of her wingpony’s description. This one was slumped over in a pool of his own blood, his mangled weapon pinned between his corpse and the hard crystal floor. A large chunk of his back was simply missing, as if an enormous claw had ripped out a huge chunk of flesh and bone. Portions of the wound had been cauterized by the searing heat of explosives, producing a stench akin to badly burned meat.

“Yuck,” Thunderlane said in disgust.

“Looks like that poor bastard caught the round straight on.” Firefly shook her head. “Exit wound size means the round detonated close, possibly inside him. No way he’s walking away from that.”

Her triage completed, Firefly continued the sweep. Scattered among the broken furniture opposite the crevasse entrance lay camp supplies: bedrolls, a few MREs, weatherproof ponchos. Spare magazines were scattered on the floor along with now-broken Aquellian assault rifles.

A conspicuous outline of an enormous weapon stood out from the debris on the floor. Firefly recognized it as an Aquellian anti-materiel rifle, the one that had been blasting holes in the plaza with its high-explosive rounds. Right next to it, the glint of polished metal caught Firefly’s eye.

“What the hell is that?”

“Jefa?”

Firefly’s light snapped to the shiny object on the ground. Though charred and scratched, an air of familiarity remained. The reflective glare dissipated as she approached, revealing red lenses. Red lenses shone in chrome helm. Chrome helm was highlighted in blood red stripes. Blood red stripes curled into the emblem of a red claw and moon. The adrenaline surged in Firefly’s veins as her mind registered the helm’s nature.

Ironclad.

“FIREFLY, DUCK!”

Firefly hit the deck just in time to avoid the burst of repeater fire from Thunderlane’s weapon. Hard aether seared the air centimeters from her skull buzzing menacingly as they traveled and skipping off the crystalline walls with loud, metallic pings. Instinctively, Firefly hammered the trigger, directing her fire where Thunderlane had shot just moments ago. She was answered by flash and thunder.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Muzzle flash momentarily blinded Firefly as she traded shots with her assailant from mere meters away while rolling for cover. In the quick flashes of light from muzzle flash and aetheric tracers, Firefly spotted the glimmers of chrome and crimson armor and the golden irises of a helmet-less griffon. Firefly half-kicked, half-flapped into an axial roll, rapidly slipping to her left to avoid incoming fire. She ended her snap roll behind what remained of a heavy table, half of which had survived the Virago’s barrage.

“Got a live one in here!” she shouted to Thunderlane.

Firefly ducked back behind cover as automatic rifle fire echoed violently through the enclosed space. Supersonic bullets whip-CRACKED past her head and made their exit into the hellstorm behind. Firefly glanced behind and to her right, where Thunderlane had found similar cover behind a battered counter.

“Damn!” Thunderlane cursed. “How many more rounds do they got?”

CLICK. CLICK. The Ironclad’s magazine clicked dry. For a split second there was shuffling and clacking metal, followed by a frustrated squawk.

“There’s your answer!” Firefly snarked. “NOW, THUNDERLANE!”

Her wingpony snapped out from behind cover, firing off a burst from his repeater. Firefly leaned out from around her own cover, her wings partially open as she prepared to launch herself at her foe. Her legs tensed in preparation to jump until she heard a new sound.

PING.

The unmistakable sound of a grenade’s spoon popping rang in Firefly’s ears. The metallic clacking of the grenade hitting crystal launched her into action. She changed her trajectory, launching from the ground, tackling Thunderlane, and throwing them both out their entry point with the combination of desperate jump and mighty flap. A split second after, a great gout of smoke and debris shot out of the crevasse.

“Firefly, what the hell happened?” Eastwind’s frantic voice cut into Firefly’s eardrums.

“Ironclad happened!” Firefly snarled through clenched teeth. “You all right, there, rookie?”

Thankfully, Thunderlane also had the presence of mind to open his wings to arrest his own fall, relieving Firefly of the burden of carrying them both. He banked right, circling to the tower’s west to avoid falling debris from the explosion. Firefly rapidly followed suit.

“Yeah, I think.” Thunderlane was wide-eyed, no doubt still high on the adrenaline rush. “I owe you one, Jefa.”

“We’ll call it even. You did save me from eating a bullet back there!” Firefly allowed herself a small smirk, a moment of levity in midst of the grim situation. “Fortis, SITREP!”

“Wolf Lead, this is Fortis. Radar contact: single bogey just left the obelisk, headed northeast.”

The outline of a single bird-like figure flashed in the twilight like distant lightning laced with motes of chrome and crimson. Firefly’s eyes narrowed and her wings tensed. She motioned a hoof for Thunderlane to follow her as she rounded the tower and powered her way northeast.

“Wolf Lead, this is Maven Actual.” Rafale’s emotionless voice was a jarring juxtaposition with the charged communications that had been exchanged moments before.

“Send it.”

“Commander, I need you to pursue.”

“Way ahead of you, Rafale.”

Firefly had no intention of letting the Ironclad escape. They had almost killed Roshina and now Thunderlane and herself were on that list. That alone was enough to warrant pursuit. But even more chilling was the fact that they had been set up to watch the drop site, a realization that made Firefly grit her teeth as officer training overcame raw adrenaline rush.

“That bastard set us up. If we don’t catch ‘em, we’ll never know why.”

“There is more.” Rafale continued. “I believe the shooter to be Lieutenant Victoria Windwright, a member of Cindermane’s inner circle and an Ironclad operator. Before her desertion, she was a highly decorated sniper who served in Indrek, as I’m sure you’re now aware. Weapons and tactics for this op match her MO. ”

“No shit,” Firefly said dryly.

Victoria Windwright. The name clicked. Firefly quickly recalled the name from the dossiers prior to embarking. She was the Sniper from the canyon ambush. That meshed perfectly with the Ironclad regalia that she’d spotted in the obelisk’s observation chamber.

“This must have come from Cindermane herself if she sent one of her top goons to do it.”

“Bring her in alive. What she knows could prove invaluable.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises. If you remember the canyon ambush, Red Moon flight wasn’t too keen on taking prisoners or surrendering.”

“Red Moon flight is no longer in a tactically advantageous position.” Even through the radio, Firefly felt a chill go down her spine at the spymaster’s words. “Use any means necessary to bring her down, but make sure she lives long enough to give us answers.”

“Anything else?”

“I look forward to a productive interview. Maven, out.”

Thunderlane whistled in amusement next to Firefly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was a serial killer,” he said. Firefly noted that his words were not repeated via radio, indicating Thunderlane preferred not to have his quips heard by the resident ice queen. Firefly had no such reservations.

“Spymaster, serial killer, same difference,” Firefly snorted. “Target ahead! Get ready!”

******

Firefly clawed for every bit of altitude and speed she could get. The sniper’s launch from her perch had given her a head start in both. The armor, however, seemed to slow her down. One meter at a time, Firefly and Thunderlane closed the gap.

“Fortis, emissives status.”

“Zero emissives, Wolf One. We are the only ones transmitting.”

“Does she not have backup?” Thunderlane puzzled. “Is she loco?”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Firefly growled. “Even Cindermane wouldn’t send her mooks out on a suicide mission. She must have a plan.”

Ambush? Extraction ship? Booby trap? Possible avenues of attack and counters flashed through Firefly’s head. Cindermane was clever and she would surely surround herself with clever and fearless soldiers. Windwright would not be flying in blind panic. There was a deliberateness to her motions that Firefly sensed.

The terrain below Firefly changed abruptly as she crossed over into the Canal Ward. The entire northeastern third of the city was separated from the rest by the meandering river, which entered from the southeast. A network of canals crisscrossed the ward interior and multiple bridges connected streets from the city proper into the Canal Ward. The structures within were taller and more angular and taller, interspersed with decorative crystalline spires, creating a forest of colorful columns.

With a sudden flare of her wings, Windwright dove into the spires. Firefly’s eyes narrowed. She was trying to trade what little altitude she had on them for speed. Firefly could work with this.

“What’s the play, Jefa?” Thunderlane asked.

“I’m going in. Thunderlane, I need you on top cover!”

“Aye!”

Firefly inverted and dove. Hot wind rushed past her from the myriad canals, fogging her goggles momentarily before her increasing airspeed rapidly cleared it. She righted herself then immediately banked again, slipping between two crystalline spires on wingtip. Ahead, Windwright’s silhouette vanished behind a tall, multistory building. Firefly rode her speed all the way to the structure, flaring at the last second and banking to round it.

CRACK-BOOM.

Firefly instinctively snap-rolled right at the muzzle flash, the rifle’s report hammering her eardrums a split second later, echoing off the spire she had just passed. The griffon rifle round snapped past her head and pinged off a nearby spire’s surface before spinning wildly into the grey. Firefly flared her tail and swung her legs out to her right, using the momentum to slew her weapon on target. Her repeater roared, spraying a hail of aether bolts downrange.

Windwright burned the last of her altitude to evade Firefly’s salvo. Her final maneuver sent her spiraling into the city streets, bobbing and weaving through wartime debris and overgrown detritus. Firefly grinned. This was a fight she could win. The match up of an armored target with only wing power against a nimble fighter in close quarters at high speeds would end poorly for Windwright.

Firefly dove in hot pursuit. Bombed out buildings and fallen spires raced by at breakneck speed. Colorful crystals blurred into muddy streets and war-torn facades in a twisted, morbid kaleidoscope.

“Fortis, I need her escape vector. Where’s she headed?”

“There’s too much ground clutter, Wolf One. We can barely track her on radar in this mess.”

“Thunderlane, do you have a visual?”

“I have visual but it’s spotty. She’s moving quick, but you’re closing the gap. What do you need me to do?”

“Make her make a mistake! Next time she goes out in the open I need you to buzz her! Try to push her north and to the west!”

“Aye!”

Firefly twisted through a mangled storefront, using an artillery mousehole to cut through a broken city block, further closing the gap. Windwright whirled around, riding her forward momentum to snap off two quick shots. Both went wild, the bullets being caught by broken rafters and weathered stone. Firefly grunted and powered on. Windwright must have been getting tired. Her aim was deteriorating.

“Thunderlane! Where are you?”

“Comin’ in hot, Jefa!”

A storm of glowing violet bolts rained from the sky just in front of her position as Thunderlane hurtled overhead, breaking his power dive and shooting up into the grey once again. Windwright squawked with surprise and snapped left, diving off the streets into a nearby canal. Firefly rolled and dipped, continuing the chase.

Hard breaths hammered Firefly’s lungs. The oppressive humidity in the shield dome seemed to concentrate near the water, leaving an invisible miasma that threatened to drown her as she flew. Derelict gondolas and broken down houseboats whizzed by as the two combatants tore through the the canal. Wooden frames and stone embankments splintered and sparked in the whirling storm of traded bullets and aether bolts. Finally, the narrow canal opened onto the river’s surface.

“Jefa, I’ve got something. There’s a ship parked in the river north of your position near the edge of the city. It’s nestled in with a bunch of gondolas and barges at the marina.”

“Clever bastards.” Firefly grunted. “Fortis, did you get that?”

“Affirmative.”

“Roshina, I need you to bring Fortis in and cut off her escape. Disable that ship any way you can, but take her alive!”

“Understood, Firefly. We’ll be there.”

“Thunderlane, it’s time to finish this. Run her into the ground! Next bridge.”

“Aye!”

Thunderlane’s response came just as Firefly ducked under one of the many bridges over the river. The next bridge was not even a hundred meters away and Windwright had yet to reach it. Firefly shot one last burst from her repeater, hoping to force Windwright to burn more speed dodging. Firefly predicted correctly, but something was off. Windwright released her rifle, allowing it to dangle from its sling and reached into the pack attached to her combat harness.

Firefly’s eyes darted to Thunderlane, who had begun his descent. His wings folded down as he entered the stoop, aiming for a spot just beyond the next bridge. Firefly’s eyes went wide as Windwright flung the oblong gadget she had retrieved into the air above her, letting its momentum carry it onto the bridge’s deck.

“Thunderlane break off your attack! The bridge is—”

FLASH.

Even this close, Firefly saw the flash of explosives and felt the heat of the explosion before she heard it. She had a split second to save herself. Tucking her wings and legs, she took as big of a breath as she dared and nosed down into the water. The entire river thrummed mightily around her, as if a titanic hammer had struck it and set it vibrating.

Firefly’s eyes snapped open. Warm, dirty water stung her eyes as it filled her goggles, leaving a crawling sensation on her skin as it infiltrated her coat, mane, and feathers. Up ahead, white plumes of bubbles and smoke rose from sinking stone and freshly extinguished wood. She stayed submerged as long as she could, but her lungs burned for air, driving her toward the surface.

She broke the river surface with a gasp and began to paddle toward the nearby dock. Pulling herself up Firefly coughed out the fetid air, sucking down as much oxygen as she could. Even as she struggled to breathe, she stumbled toward the bridge on uneasy hooves. Windwright’s demolition charge had obliterated any semblance of structure. Were she not there to see it herself, Firefly would have been hard pressed to believe there had been a bridge there at all.

“Thunderlane!” she screamed. “Thunderlane! Dammit!”

Bile welled up in Firefly’s throat. Did Thunderlane make it to the river in time? If he hadn’t... Firefly choked at the thought. She trusted him to live. She said she would let him go because he could take care of himself, but the one time she hadn’t come to his rescue, he—

“Firefly!”

“Thunderlane!” Her eyes darted to the river.

Paddling through the debris, apparently none the worse for wear was Thunderlane. Firefly was suddenly reinvigorated. Overcome with joy, she galloped through the miasma seemingly without hindrance, skidding to a halt near where Thunderlane had surfaced. Leaning down, she extended a hoof to him. Thunderlane gladly accepted, hooking his hoof around hers and allowing himself to be pulled from the water. As soon as he was on the docks, Firefly grabbed him and squeezed him tightly in a hug.

“Don’t worry, Jefa,” he laughed wearily, “It’ll take more than that to kill me!”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m supposed to be the one saying that!”

“I learn from the best,” he smirked.

“Commander! Are you all right?” The radio burst to life. Firefly breathed a quick sigh of relief. It appeared her gear was still in order.

“We’re a little soggy, but alive. Don’t worry about us. SITREP?”

“Fortis is at the objective. Engaging now.”

The sharp crack of heavy repeater rounds firing barely a hundred meters away stung her ears. Firefly’s eyes panned to the north, where a thin plumes of smoke now rose from a cluster of docked boats downriver. The thrum of aetherjets filled the air, drowning out even the hellstorm as Fortis descended from above. If Firefly squinted, she could see Roshina and Khog standing on deck. A brilliant beam sprang from the ARC ship’s spotlight, slicing through the artificial twilight and backlighting the silhouette of Victoria Windwright. The Ironclad flapped slowly, hovering over the still waters and the remains of her escape ship.

“We have her, Commander!” Khog cheered.

“Good! Hold her there! We’re on our way!” Firefly said. She motioned to Thunderlane and broke into a hard gallop.

The ARC ship slowed as it descended, finally coming to a hover a few tens of meters above river level. Firefly felt a chill wash over her as the jet wash blasted the moisture from her coat and feathers. Finally, they arrived. Firefly took a moment to catch her breath before sizing up the hovering Ironclad.

Lieutenant Windwright hovered upright, her wings slowly flapping, enough to keep her airborne but only just. Nothing about her stance indicated that she was prepared to fight. Her talons remained by her sides and her rifle dangled from its sling, resting firmly upon her chest. The golden eyes that Firefly had caught a scant glimpse at in the obelisk were closed. Taking a deep breath, Firefly girded herself to speak.

“Lieutenant Victoria Windwright!” she bellowed above the storm and jet wash. “I am Commander Firefly of the Alliance Expeditionary Fleet! Your mission has failed. You are outnumbered and outgunned. But this doesn’t have to end in further bloodshed. I am willing to accept your surrender right now!”

There was a beat of silence. Windwright appeared unfazed, as if she had not heard a word Firefly had said. Or perhaps she was deliberately ignoring it.

“Lieutenant Windwright!” Firefly repeated. “I am Commander Firefly—”

Windwright’s eyes snapped open. She suddenly rotated to face Firefly, causing all present to train their weapons upon her. Firefly raised a hoof and waved them down. “So you heard me after all.”

The griffon’s face bore an expression of distinct disinterest. “None of this concerns you, Commander. Turn away and let this go. If you do, perhaps you will have time to save yourself.”

Windwright’s voice was clipped and proper, the mark of a Talonopolis upper-class griffon. Her condescending tone and refusal to address her question further raised all but confirmed her pedigree. Firefly could not hold back the scoffing snort from her nostrils. Windwright wasn’t a soldier. She was a trophy. Daddy’s girl sent to fight a war in the family tradition. Now she was nothing but a deserter and criminal. Firefly’s lip curled in disgust.

“You know I can’t do that,” Firefly growled in reply. Despite her disdain, she did what she could to remain professional. With any luck, her derision would be construed as mere gruffness. “My offer still stands, but my patience won’t for much longer. Are you coming peacefully or will I have to clip your pinions?”

Windwright leaned her head back and inhaled deeply before letting out a long sigh. Firefly raised an eyebrow. This was not a sigh of exasperation or in sarcasm. Windwright honestly sounded exhausted, not just physically but mentally. Finally, she spoke again — slowly, deliberately. “You have no idea what you have blundered into, Commander.”

It was all Firefly could do to avoid shooting her dead on the spot. This upper-class asshole had dared to fire upon them, then led her on a chase through the city, and now she had the gall to patronize them while outnumbered? Firefly’s voice adopted an edge just as condescending as the scum that floated before her.

“Listen here, bitch. I didn’t come all the way out here to die by the hand of some prissy patrician trophy daughter. You’re coming with me. Whether it’s in a jump seat or a body bag doesn’t matter to me. I’m giving you one last chance to surrender yourself.”

Windwright turned one last time to Firefly before closing her eyes and returning to her prior hover. Firefly slammed her hoof into the ground. Was she really so arrogant and hardheaded that she would refuse surrender? Windwright had one chance to prove herself not to be patrician scum to Firefly and she had completely blown it.

Still, something bothered Firefly about her mannerisms. Windwright knew more than she let on and the utter calm with which she addressed the soldiers pointing guns at her was unnerving to the extreme. Firefly glanced to Thunderlane, then to Roshina and Khog on the deck. It appeared that all were of similar mind. Something wasn’t right. But Firefly couldn’t afford to stand on the riverbank gawking at an ornery griffon all day.

She keyed her radio. “Typhon, bring her in.”

“Yes, Commander.” Khog took wing with Roshina close behind.

“Roshina—” Firefly started.

“Do not worry about me, Firefly. I am not the primary point of contact.” As she spoke Roshina manifested an aetheric spear which she kept pointed at Windwright as they approached. “Khog will handle the hard work. I will merely ensure our guest remains cooperative.”

The dragons slowly floated to where Windwright hovered in her meditation. Finally face to face with Windwright, Khog gave her one look and sneered, “Where’s the smugness now, little bird?”

Windwright’s eyes snapped open once again. She glared straight into Khog’s jeering pupils. The closer Firefly looked, the more it looked like Windwright was staring through Khog. Firefly followed her gaze, finally coming to Roshina. As soon as Windwright laid eyes upon Roshina, the aloofness vanished. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly. Her wings tensed and her talons clenched. Windwright fixated upon her, a low guttural gnarl emanating from deep within.

She spoke slowly, her words cutting and chilling like jagged ice. “You will not escape again, witch.”

Windwright’s armor flashed like lightning, lashing out at Khog with paw, with talon, and with her head. The headbutt flipped Khog upside down. His guard broken, Khog took the full brunt of Windwright’s final attack to the chin, a spinning strike with the butt of her rifle that sent the blindsided dragon careening into the docks.

Khog spiraled out of the sky and slammed into a rack of laid up gondolas on the docks, the splintered planks flying up into the air before handily burying him. Seeing her wingmate incapacitated, Roshina quickly shielded herself, a glowing disc of magical force springing from her left arm just in time to deflect the last of Windwright’s rounds. Her rifle empty, she threw it aside and charged forward, drawing her blade as she flashed across the gap between them.

CLANG.

Armor and blade met magical force field, the sound of the clash echoing across the Canal Ward. Their weapons locked together, the shield holding Windwright’s blade mere centimeters from Roshina’s face. Windwright’s blade trembled violently as she struggled to overpower her opponent. Suddenly, the trembling stopped. Windwright’s grip on her blade loosened and it fell from her talons, clattering harmlessly to the marina dock below.

Firefly’s eyes fell upon the gore-stained spearhead that now protruded from Windwright’s back. The griffon shook violently, unleashing a blood-curdling screech as she slammed her claws one last time into Roshina’s shield. Finally, she fell limp, leaving only the baying wind and the dull hum of aetherjets.

For a long moment no one could speak.

Firefly’s eyes darted from Windwright to Roshina, from Roshina to Khog, and from Khog to Thunderlane’s wide-eyed face. Everything happened so fast: the arrest, the perfidy, the chilling declaration. Even Khog, the warrior among warriors was caught flat-footed. Roshina appeared just as shell-shocked, the slackness of a thousand meter stare dominating her face.

Firefly shook herself back into reality. She was still commander. She still had to lead. They were deep in hostile territory with a probably-dead Ironclad and critical intelligence to deliver back to base. Personal processing could wait. She hammered her mic switch and gave her orders.

“Fortis, this is Wolf one. Situation: FUBAR. Roshina! Get Windwright to the ship! Corpsmare, see what you can do to stabilize her! So help me Celestia we’re going to salvage something out of this godsdamn mess!”

23. Interlude: Old Debts

View Online

Silence smothered the ARC ship’s cabin. A funerary pall hung in the air, seemingly draining the color and vitality out of all present. All about the cabin lay signs of post combat self-care. MRE wrappers poked out of the trash can bolted to the bulkhead. Blood-stained gauze, empty bandage tins, and expended phials of antiseptic clinked softly beside them.

Firefly took a deep breath and sighed. She wore only her flight jacket, the one item that had not taken a dive in the river during the previous chase. Everything else was thoroughly soaked and unfit to be worn in the cold outside the shield dome. The same cold now permeated the deployment bay in which Firefly now sat.

The soldier in Firefly was furious. Her comrades had been subject to yet another ambush, the Canal Ward chase had nearly killed both her and her wingpony, and one of their best special operators had been targeted for assassination by one of the enemy’s elite, an enemy that seemed to be intimately familiar with fleet operations and tactics. Firefly was too far gone for fear. Now only rage remained.

The officer in Firefly knew the operation had to be played smart. She was itching to dig into the information that had just been acquired. Amanuensis tablets containing secrets that could very well undo the Talons now lay secured in Fortis’ lockboxes. Personal affects and weapons with intact serial numbers could be traced and sourced. A wealth of intel was just waiting to be processed.

Cold helped with keeping her mind fresh. The deployment chamber’s vents had been purposely left open to prevent putrefaction of their cargo. Unfortunately, Lieutenant Windwright did not survive her fight with Roshina. Her body bag now lay in silent repose, lashed to a cargo pallet bolted to the deck. Those of her squadmates from the hide were secured next to her.

“Stupid bitch,” Firefly muttered. “Why didn’t you just surrender?”

Pirate tenacity? Aquellian Marine code of honor? Firefly couldn’t say for sure. She grumbled as she sank into her flight jacket. Her breathed sigh went up in a puff of condensation that wafted out of the crook of her foreleg.

The clang of the deployment bay hatch and the blast of warm air from the crew cabin ruffled Firefly’s mane, drawing her eyes to the bow. She snorted and nestled her muzzle back into her jacket sleeve. “Last I checked, you’re not a body that needs to be in the freezer.”

“Nor are you,” Roshina retorted. “So it appears we are both out of place.”

“Considering how often we walk that line, I’m surprised we’re not there already!” Firefly’s laugh was not without a touch of bitterness.

“As am I.” Roshina said as she secured the hatch behind her. Her empty uniform sleeves flapped behind, as she had merely draped the jacket over her shoulders like a cloak. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Be my guest.” Firefly patted the jump seat next to her. “But don’t bitch to me if your scales get cold!”

“Thank you.” Roshina walked to the open seat and gingerly eased into it, her discomfort at the freezing cold cushion immediately apparent. As it warmed from her body heat, she appeared to settle in.

“How’s the liver?” Firefly said.

Roshina turned up her uniform collar and leaned her head back on the bulkhead, cracking a wan smile. “Heh. I do more damage to it with drink than that sniper did to me. The medic says that round took a chunk of soft tissue out, but completely missed anything important. The skin will grow back in no time.”

“Not bad for eating an autocannon round, eh?”

Roshina chuckled quietly. Clean gauze and tape covered her right side just below the ribs. Visible just below the flap of her unbuttoned uniform jacket, it was a far cry from the haphazard mass of coagulant powder and field dressings applied in the heat of battle. Unlike the former, this set remained clean, indicating that the bleeding had stopped.

The feeling of battle wounds was nothing new to Firefly. After all, her previously awarded purple heart had multiple stars and the incident list attached to it was growing longer all the time. Still, a few blade cuts, bullets pulled out of soft tissue, or torn cartilage on her ears from shrapnel and small arms fire was nothing compared to getting hit with rounds meant to stop airships.

For a while, neither spoke, both staring at the bagged up bodies of their former foes and crates full of damning intel.

Firefly finally broke the silence. “You all right?”

“I am alive.” Roshina said flatly.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Firefly gave her a sidelong glance. “What happened back there?”

“Windwright saw an opening and she took it. I should have been more care—”

“No, Roshina,” Firefly interrupted. She turned to face Roshina directly. “What happened to you?”

Roshina glanced down at her. “I do not follow.”

“I know a thousand-meter stare when I see one.” Firefly growled at the deflection. Her glare drew a tired sigh from the sorcerer-dragon. “You’re a battle-hardened veteran. You’ve seen all sorts of shit in the Continental War and gods know what else ACG sent you off on. You’ve been wounded before. But this was different. Roshina, I need my troops combat ready...”

“You’ll have it,” she snapped.

“... and my friends truthful.” Firefly softened her tone.

Roshina turned away, staring into the blowing snow outside the porthole, her mouth moving as if attempting to answer repeatedly. Each time, however, she stopped short of it. It frustrated Firefly, but she held her tongue. If Roshina had to deal with Firefly’s demons before, the least Firefly could do was listen Roshina’s.

Finally, Roshina spoke. Her words were measured, slow, and quiet. “I can deal with staring down soldiers. But in that moment, Windwright wasn’t a soldier. I looked into her eyes and there was nothing there. There was not a shred of sentience. There was only an unquenchable thirst for destruction. And I was in her way.”

“So she was a monster.” Firefly said. She cocked her head in genuine curiosity. “But you’ve fought monsters before. Why was Windwright different?”

“If you speak of hydras and manticores, those are mere beasts. Beasts live in the wild away from civilization and are culled when they encroach upon civilization.” Roshina made a fist and squeezed, her fingers trembling as she spoke. “Monsters live among us; waiting, watching. They are invisible until they strike. Seeing someone transform into one in front of you shakes you to your core.”

“Monster.” Firefly mouthed.

The word was immediately distasteful to her. She’d used it to describe Skywind in the past, the queen bees from high school, the loudmouths from academy; all were monsters. The beasts other ponies might call ‘monster,’ Firefly dismissed. A quarry eel she could kill. A timberwolf she could burn. A monster? Roshina was right. She had to let them live by law. Thus they festered and grew into something unimaginably horrible over years of unchecked, malignant growth.

But surely there was a way to get intel out of a monster? Firefly stared at Windwright’s body bag. What secrets did she take to her grave? “Beast or being, we were supposed to take her alive.”

“I’m sorry for that. I wish it could have been different, but there were only two ways out: either I died or she died. Windwright impaled herself upon my weapon just to try and kill me.”

“I saw.” Firefly sighed. Faulting Roshina for it would be nothing but wasted breath. Everypony had seen what happened. Roshina moved to block and Windwright had finished herself off in her rage-driven fever dream. Despite this, something still bothered Firefly. “She called you ‘witch.’ That’s a pretty specific jab. Did you have prior run-ins? Someone you knew from before the war?”

Roshina shook her head. “No. But she knows us like we know them. Cindermane likely has dossiers on all of us, including ‘the witch dragon.’” The emphasized words dripped with disdain. “It seems Cindermane’s unit didn’t care much for sorcery.”

“Cindermane singled you out. Why?”

“I’m a Pyrian operative, ACG member, and a sorcerer-dragon. I like to think the explanations write themselves.”

Bitter as the realization was, it was true. Roshina was a massive force multiplier to Firefly’s squadron. She would be naive to think Cindermane wouldn’t have taken notice. Still, it was difficult to wrap her brain around the fact that her rival was every bit as meticulous as Firefly and willing to sacrifice just as much to accomplish her mission.

“Cindermane always goes for the throat, but she also knows to watch her back.” Firefly muttered. “I hope for her sake Hecate had an exit plan.”

“Right now I question whether Hecate is a valid source at all.” Roshina furrowed her brow as she mulled over the events. “Cindermane knew we would be there to pick up the drop. That means she would have known about Hecate. What’s to say Hecate and her intel weren’t just a ruse to draw us out?”

Firefly idly drummed upon the bulkhead with a hoof. “Well, the amanuensis plates didn’t vanish when I touched them. Maybe Rafale’s team can pull something off them: clawprints, enough feather or hair fragments for a scrying trace?” She shrugged. “We also have Windwright’s body, her armor, her personal trinkets, and her notes. If Hecate’s intel is off we’ll find out soon enough.”

“I certainly hope so. Cindermane sacrificed much today. She must have gained something from it. I am just as a loss as to what.” Roshina closed her eyes and shifted her tail and wings, her serpentine body curling up on the seat beneath her jacket.

Firefly rested a hoof on her shoulder. “We’ll get her. I promise.”

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” the sorcerer-dragon smirked.

Firefly didn’t flinch. “I have every intention of keeping it.”

“Your tenacity is truly legendary, friend.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way!”

The two shared a chuckle before returning to staring out the porthole at the windblown snow. Firefly slowly exhaled into her jacket, feeling the warm, damp breath slowly dissipate into her coat. A few wisps of condensation leaked out, dancing in the freezing air like tongues of flame. She’d burn Cindermane alive. She just had to catch her.

“Firefly.”

Firefly turned her head to face Roshina. “What’s up?”

“I want you to have something — before I depart.”

Roshina lifted her head from the bulkhead and reached into her jacket pocket. A strangely merry jingle of metal links preceded the withdrawal of a silvered chain. Hooked on the chain was a polished silver pendant emblazoned with a snake biting its own tail. Between the snake’s coils, a sword was threaded.

Firefly scooted closer and leaned in to scrutinize it. She pursed her lips as recognition set in. “An ouroboros. Symbol of cycles.”

Roshina burst out in laughter. “Very good! So they do have some culture in Equestria!”

Firefly scowled. “Very funny, Rosi.”

“Rosi.” The nickname brought Roshina pause. Her laughter evaporated. “No one’s called me that in years.”

Firefly’s ears drooped when she realized her faux pas. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that. I know it’s painful.”

“No it’s fine. Hearing it again is... nice.” Roshina smiled. She lifted the pendant, allowing it to dangle between their faces. “Bashir had these pendants made for the whole squad when he was still alive. Everyone thought it was sappy and stupid.”

She pressed the pendant and chain into Firefly’s hoof. It took a moment before she realized what Roshina was trying to do. Firefly shook her head, attempting to push the pendant back to Roshina.

“I can’t take this from you, Roshina. This is Bashir’s. It’s not right.”

“Bashir told me himself: if he were to die, it had to go to a worthy comrade.” Roshina held the pendant firmly in place and met eyes with Firefly. “He wouldn’t want me to hang on to it. So consider this paying off an old debt. I at least owe him that.”

Firefly hesitated. Roshina clearly had emotional attachment to the trinket. It felt wrong taking it from her. But her sincerity demanded an answer in kind.

“So please,” Roshina said, pushing the pendant — along with the hoof — toward Firefly. “Take it.”

Firefly looked down at the pendant again, turning it slightly and allowing its silvered surface to catch the light. This was the last remnant of Bashir Gul. To even deem her worthy of receiving one was an honor. To pass one on to her, let alone the very pendant carried by Bashir himself, required a monumental amount of trust. The gravity of the decision was not lost on Firefly. Her resolve restored, Firefly took the chain in both front hooves and draped it over her head, allowing the pendant to hang next to her dog tags by her chest.

Roshina smiled. “It looks great on you!”

“Hey come here!” Firefly threw a foreleg over Roshina and embraced her.

“We’ll get ‘em, Rosi. Cindermane thinks she’s got us on the ropes, but we’ve got more fight in us yet!”

24. Ouroboros

View Online

A hot shower, a non-MRE meal, and clean uniform did wonders for Firefly’s mood. She would have preferred to have spent the downtime after their last mission hitting the heavy bag or calibrating a fresh repeater on deck, but it seemed Admiral Flyleaf had other ideas. Firefly sighed and hoofed open the hatch to the admiral’s ready room.

She winced immediately. Brilliant natural light pierced her eyes, forcing them closed until she pried them open once again. The armored blast covers of the admiral’s ready room were conspicuously open, seemingly for the first time since they’d gone to war in all but name.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, Firefly’s gaze fell upon a massive mahogany table dominated the center of the compartment. Chairs were eschewed in favor of heavy cushions which would be more comfortable for a pony to sit upon; the table’s height was adjusted accordingly. The rest of the chamber adopted a spartan aesthetic. A block of lockboxes and a desk with an amanuensis tablet sat quietly by the entrance to the Admiral’s quarters, but nothing else occupied the floor. Upon the table sat a slide projector. Following the pointing of its lens, Firefly could see a slot in the overhead where a screen could be unrolled for presentation purposes.

Other members of Firefly’s strike team had arrived ahead of her. Sunburst and Thunderlane chatted quietly at the table and Eastwind stood with her back turned, gazing out into the brilliant blue astern. The hellstorm that had borne them on their return trip had finally dissipated, leaving nothing but clear sky for kilometers around. Firefly trotted toward the viewports.

Eastwind turned at Firefly’s arrival, offering a wan smile. “Somepony had their beauty sleep interrupted!”

Despite the gravity of their summons, Firefly cracked the faintest smile at Eastwind’s jest. “Sleep is for the dead!”

“Speak for yourself!” Sunburst half-scoffed, half-yawned. “I would’ve bought the XO a round just to get another hour of bunk time! One day you’re going to realize you don’t run on LACE fuel, gunpowder, and adrenaline.”

“Maybe when I’m old, Sunshine,” she retorted with a smirk.

“Aw, you do care!” Thunderlane laughed. “You’re going soft, abuelo.”

Eastwind nickered. “He hasn’t had his medicine yet. Not that we’d want him to have it on a ship full of nubile junior officers!”

“As if I needed the meds!” Sunburst swiped a hoof in the air dismissively. “I did walk off a cannon round to the neck back at Onyx! I’m spry and virile as the day I walked off Manehattan U’s campus!”

“Sunshine, that trick might work on the nuggets, but it won’t work on us. We were there, remember?”

“Just keeping you on your hooves, Windy!”

Eastwind wrinkled her nose in mock disgust and raised her right wing, pulling down her pinion feathers one by one until only the middle one remained. “I got gunfire and Crystal ponies back at Crystal Spire to do that for me.”

The squad erupted in laughter. For a moment, the weight of the operation seemed to lift. Firefly breathed slightly easier.

The clanking of the hatch drew all eyes to the newly opened portal. Typhon unit filed in, quickly followed by Rafale. On cue, the rear door in the ready compartment opened and Admiral Flyleaf stepped through. Silently, the Timberwolves rose to attention and saluted.

“As you were.” She ordered. “I apologize for curtailing your R&R, but time is at a premium. Let’s not delay any further. Typhon unit, have a seat. Special Agent Rafale, what can your team give us on Hecate’s intel?”

Roshina gave Firefly a nod of acknowledgment before taking a seat at the table. Grana, Khog, and Zaan followed suit. Even seated, the dragons towered over the ponies, the juxtaposition nearly comical were it not for the grim visages that adorned the faces of all. Only Rafale remained standing.

“Nothing yet.” Rafale began. “The amanuensis plates are heavily encrypted. But using the code header provided by Steelfeather and the Pyrium radio we recovered from the canyon, we were able to discover a Talon numbers station. Analysis of the codes transmitted revealed a sequence that can be used to enact decryption. We should have a solution within the next 48 hours.”

“Will that intel still be current?” Firefly asked.

“For the time being, yes. I believe we have a small window within which to act before Cindermane suspects that her sniper team was compromised. Fortis after all detected no radio traffic coming from Windwright’s team before or after the skirmish at Amore’s Rest. We also took great pains to mask our radio communications and radar signatures up to and after the battle.”

“How long do we have?”

“No more than seventy-two hours. After that, they will likely force a cipher rotation when they realize their communications have been compromised.”

“We will address that in due time, Special Agent.” The Admiral waved her on. “Please continue.”

“All that being said, I believe we have been able to glean some information from the format of the documents.”

Firefly leaned in. “What have we got?”

“Meta-analysis indicates that the information on the plates is military communique in a form consistent with Aquellian National Army documentation prior to the war. You all should recognize this.”

Rafale floated upwards with dainty flaps of her wings and pulled the projector screen from the overhead before floating over to the slide projector. She produced a bundle of slides from her saddlebag and flipped the projector on. The first image showed a photograph of glowing symbols on the surface of an amanuensis tablet, the same tablets that Firefly’s strike team had recovered from Amore’s Rest.

The symbol strings themselves appeared to be complete gibberish; a random jumble of numbers and letters in a mixture of both Aquellian and Equestrian script. Upon second glance, however, it was clear that the strings were arranged in a very particular manner upon the tablet. As Rafale cycled the slides and more of the text structure became visible, a realization dawned upon Firefly.

Firefly pursed her lips. “It’s an operations order. This must be Cindermane’s playbook.”

Admiral Flyleaf nodded. “Cindermane runs her outfit with military precision and leadership. It would make sense for her to pass down OPORD-style documents to her subordinates.”

“I think we all know what the final results of the decryption will be.” Sunburst muttered.

“Let me know the instant you have something.”

“Oui, Admiral.”

Admiral Flyleaf turned to Firefly. “What did we get from the sniper hide?”

Firefly waved her hoof to Eastwind. “Lieutenant Eastwind handled documentation of our findings after we returned. I think you’d rather hear it from her than me.”

“Lieutenant?”

Eastwind cleared her throat and spoke. “Scraps. Not much was left after deployment of explosive rounds and the grenade from Windwright.”

“What of Windwright’s crew?”

“Nothing of interest from her squadmates, Admiral. Windwright herself has a few scraps that look like ballistics calculations. The team cased the entire plaza and dialed in ranges for the Hushed Empress and the admin building. Rafale, the next slide of you will.”

The slide projector advanced under Rafale’s hoof, showing a spread of bloodied and crumpled personal effects from Windwright and her squadmates. Among them were several red-stained papers with numbers and Aquellian script scribbled upon them; the calculations to which Eastwind referred. Other knicknacks from her bags and splintered bits of weapons and personal effects from her squadmates made up the remainder of the evidence slides.

“Atal is looking over the batch on the Majestic for anything magical. Other than that, we’ve got nothing.”

Firefly raised an eyebrow. “That part you didn’t tell me about. I thought all Majestic crew were confined to quarters or split up around the fleet in different vessels’ brigs?”

“Essential staff were not,” Rafale answered in Eastwind’s stead. “The Majestic has unique lab resources not available elsewhere in the fleet. Any research that Atal would do would have to be done there while under armed guard. His team was allowed to remain so they could evaluate our findings when we had them delivered.”

The Admiral rubbed her forehead with a hoof. “Then I suppose there’s little else we can do but wait. I’ll have you returned to the Majestic under cover of brig transit. I can have you returned within the next couple hours.”

Firefly raised an eyebrow. “‘Brig transit?’ Please tell me that doesn’t involve actually ending up in the brig for the sake of appearances!”

The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the Admiral’s lips, but was quickly extinguished. “No, not the literal brig. You’ll be confined to quarters but I’ll see to it that you’re provided with proper hot meals. It’s the least I could do for having you all put up with this charade.”

Firefly sighed. “Well, it’s better than nothing. Guess I could get a few hours of shut-eye while the eggheads sort this out.”

“Get some rest, Commander. You’ve earned it.”

******

Even as they approached the rendezvous point, Firefly continued to pace the cabin. Knowing that in a few hours she’d be stuck in her quarters for gods knew how long made it even worse. The restlessness burned in her bones, scratching at her stomach and sizzling in her joints like smoldering ash.

“Guess you had the right idea, Commander,” Sunburst yawned. He stood from his jump seat and stretched out in the cabin. “After we touch down it’s back to quarters for us! You’d think with all the shit we did for her, the Admiral would let us off the hook!”

“Sounds like abuelo missed his naptime!” Thunderlane nickered.

“Yeah well my ass just got dragged through a hellstorm, a dead city, a sniper duel, and the admiral’s inquisition, so forgive me if I’m not all sunshine and rainbows at the moment!”

“Bureaucracy,” Khog snorted. “If you’ll recall, you all are technically still prisoners.”

“And you aren’t?” Eastwind raised an eyebrow. “As far as I know, all combat flier units in the Majestic’s battlegroup were placed on lockdown.”

“One of the perks of being foreign SOF!” Khog guffawed.

“You gotta be shitting me. Lucky bastard.” Eastwind facehoofed.

Roshina elbowed Khog, immediately shutting him up. “We may have certain privileges in terms of moving about the ship, but that does not make us more privy to the Admiral’s plans. We were just as surprised as you when we were collected for our... interviews.”

“Yeah welcome to being part of an expeditionary force that isn’t also an intel apparatus,” Sunburst sneered, leaping at the opportunity to get back at the dragon. Khog growled at the clear jab. “There, there, Red. I’ll be sure to share my brig gruel with you when we get back to the ship!”

“Majestic Control, this is Fortis,” the copilot’s detached voice idly wafted to Firefly’s ear. “Requesting permission for landing approach.”

There was a beat of silence before the copilot repeated himself. “Majestic Control, this is Fortis requesting permission for landing approach. How copy, over?”

Firefly could not hear the words from the other end of the radio, but it was clear they were not in agreement. The copilot’s demeanor went from detached to angry to puzzled in the space of a few seconds.

“Can you say again? There’s static on the line and I believe I misheard.”

The display was repeated. “What do you mean permission denied? You have the manifests. What the hell is going on?”

“Warrant Officer Husker? Patch me in.”

The copilot nodded and flipped a few switches on his control panel. A burst of static filled Firefly’s ears before an unfamiliar voice came on over the airwaves.

“I say again, permission denied, Fortis. You are not authorized to land.”

“Did they not get the memo?” Firefly whispered to Husker, making sure to leave her microphone muted.

“Majestic Control, by order of Admiral Flyleaf, auth code cloud-niner-zero-zero-one-five-alpha-echo-two, you are to prepare to receive us.”

“Stand by, Fortis.” There was indistinct chatter in the background, followed by the shuffling of hooves and clothing. All of it was curiously close, as if it were done via patch-through rather than the ship’s plug-in hardware. At the same time, static continued to pulse over the line, making it difficult to discern anything else that was being said in the background.

“Proceed to landing stack on zero-four-four, Fortis.”

“Understood, Majestic Control. Fortis, out.”

Firefly’s eyes narrowed. “Something’s not right. They should have known about our arrival ahead of time. Why would they put us in the stack? And why was the signal so bad so close to the Majestic?”

The copilot shrugged. “Mix-up? These sorts of things happen. Especially with all the insanity of the last few days. It might just be one last batch of C-SAR birds coming home to roost. Maybe somepony just hasn’t gotten to proper maintenance on the Big M’s radios.”

Firefly gritted her teeth. She supposed the copilot was right. But it still didn’t sit well with her.

“Wait a second.” The feeling in the pit of her stomach returned as she realized the static continued long after the air boss’ radio had clicked off. A series of short and long bursts played out, marking it clearly as code. “Do you hear that? There’s something in the static!”

The copilot’s muzzle scrunched in confusion at first. His eyes quickly popped open in surprise. He grabbed a pencil and began writing down the incoming message. Firefly followed along, but before he’d finished the transcription she’d already put the pieces together.

S-E-N-D-H-E-L-P-V-A-U-L-T

“Send. Help. Vault.” She recited aloud.

“Husker, get me the Admiral. NOW!”

“Aye, ma’am!”

“Firefly, what’s happening?” Eastwind stood, a look of concern shadowing her face.

“Nothing good,” Firefly said grimly. “Husker, patch in Typhon and Timberwolf flights. They need to hear this, too.”

“Understood,” he said as he manipulated the switches. “Eidolon Control just checked in. You’ll have the Admiral on the line shortly.”

Clothing and hooves shuffled before a click indicated that somepony else had patched in. “This is Eidolon Actual. Give me a SITREP.”

“Admiral, this is Wolf One. We have a problem. The Majestic has been compromised. It’s the Talons. They’re here.”

Firefly could hear the pause in the Admiral’s breath as she carefully considered the new revelation. “How do you know?”

“Fortis just intercepted a message being sent via horse code over the Majestic’s carrier frequency.”

“Is this legitimate?”

“Aye, ma’am!” Husker interjected. “Sorry to butt in, but I kept listening in on the signal and there’s an auth code attached. It matches that used by the lab crews.”

“The Talons must be after the artifact!” Thunderlane exclaimed.

“How did they get control of the ship?” Flyleaf asked.

“Easy, thanks to the Admiral’s lockdown,” Roshina growled. “The Majestic is on a skeleton crew. Everyone has been moved to other ships while the Eidolon’s marines run security. All that needed done was to eliminate the small detachment, cut communications, then seize the bridge and engineering. Once they have those, the ship is theirs.”

Though Firefly could not see her, she could easily visualize the Admiral’s consternation. A stifled snort of vexation confirmed her predictions but was quickly lost in the follow-up chatter. Perhaps it was for the better. Firefly didn’t have time to moderate a policy debate in the midst of the newly unraveling crisis.

“The mole is still one step ahead of us,” Sunburst growled. “The team must have been smuggled in with the ambulances. Bastards!”

“What do we do, Commander?” Thunderlane looked to Firefly.

She paused and took a deep breath. The Talons had struck her ship. Her home. Her crew. Every strike had been closer to her and Firefly would no longer allow it. “If the Admiral will have me, I have a proposal.”

“Speak.” Flyleaf said curtly.

“Lock and load,” Firefly said. As she spoke, she donned her harness and reached for her repeater on Fortis’ gun rack. “Kill the attackers, rescue any survivors. We’re taking back my ship. Admiral, I don’t want to overstep my authority, but I need additional forces.”

“I can give you command of the Eidolon’s remaining marines. Do with them as you see fit.”

“No,” she countered. “I need a specific team. Pull Galatine unit out of lockdown and have them follow us in.”

“Why Galatine?”

“They’re the only ones I trust. No offense.”

“None taken. I’ll have it done.”

“Husker, Apricot, slow your approach and keep us out of the stack. It would put us right within range of the Majestic’s AA guns.” Firefly leaned into the cockpit as she spoke. “We’re still BVR so milk that for all it’s worth. We need time to let Galatine catch up and to cobble together a plan.”

“Understood, Commander.”

Turning back to the cabin, Firefly pointed to Rafale. “Rafale, get in touch with the rest of your team on the Eidolon. I need every bit of SIGINT you can pull for this. We’re flying blind right now and I need to know what’s going on on my ship!”

“Understood, Commander,” she nodded and adjusted the dials on her radio. “My team will work on cracking their comms.”

“Without beginning or end, the ring stretches into the infinite.”

The mad shuffle and frantic orders and conversation stopped. All eyes turned to Roshina. The dragonness had stood quietly while Firefly was barking her orders. Her eyes gazed into the bright blue outside the portholes, a blank look upon her face. Morosely, she continued.

“The snake consumes its tail and the cycle continues anew.”

Firefly trotted over and placed a firm hoof on her shoulder. “Hey! The cycle ends with us. We’re going to beat them. I’m not going to let them win!”

She quickly tapped the ouroboros tags within her uniform jacket and the corresponding tags on Roshina's chest with her hoof. Firefly turned around before Roshina could offer a response, but out of the corner of her eye, she could detect a faint smile in response.

“Everyone, suit up! No time to lose!”

25. Mayday

View Online

Firefly ventured a quick glance outside. While the skies above remained blue, a set of lenticular clouds had settled about the nearby peaks, their edges fading into misty wisps that spread into the nearby plains, creating a second “ground” not more than a hundred meters below. Fortis and Galatine’s ARC ship Duster skimmed just above this layer on their approach to the Majestic. Firefly would have preferred better concealment, but diving into the rotor winds that lay below the cloud layer would be suicide. They would have to rely on the ARC ships’ radar stealth and misdirection of the Talon air controllers to mask their approach.

“Everypony, to the table for briefing.” Firefly ordered. “Duster, Galatine unit, radio check.”

The flurry of activity was beginning to wind down as everyone had completed the donning of their battle gear. Firefly herself was already leaned over the table with Rafale, eyes glued upon the briefing materials. Upon the table lay a hastily drawn sketch of the Majestic’s exterior. Large arrows were scrawled pointing to particular segments of the hull. Three large “X’s” marked points inside the superstructure, toward the stern, and deep within the bowels of the ship.

“Duster reads you five by five, Commander.” The ARC operator replied.

“Galatine is ready for briefing.” Valor said, confirming that Galatine unit’s communications were patched in.

Firefly nodded. “Let’s get started. Rafale, what’s our SIGINT like?”

Rafale shook her head. “We haven’t managed to crack the encryption.”

“We’re out of time,” Firefly was curt. “What can you tell us?”

“Meta-analysis of transmission patterns indicate that they are highly disciplined and transmitting using military protocols, even more so than conventional Talon enforcers. This leads me to believe these are not rank and file grunts. They are likely the elite of Cindermane’s group.”

“Any contact from the inside?”

“Precious little. We have not managed to contact Captain Kamal. However, we have exchanged some communications with the lab crew. We have ascertained that the attackers do indeed hold the bridge and engineering. There is no more than a platoon-sized element, mixed ponies and griffons, wearing black uniforms and using Aquellian weaponry. Their faces are masked with goggles and balaclavas.”

Sunburst grunted. “Then we know exactly who to shoot.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Valor radioed.

“Breach the Majestic. Terminate all hostiles with extreme prejudice.” Firefly growled. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Our priority is to secure the bridge and rescue any command staff who are still alive.”

“Insertion point?”

“They’re expecting us to land on the main flight deck. So we’re not going anywhere near the flight deck.” Firefly tapped a hoof on the sketch of the starboard side of the Majestic.

“The auxiliary hangars have a set of mechanical failsafes built into their blast door systems. If the ship were to crash, triggering the failsafes would force open the doors and allow crew to escape. We should be able to bypass the internal switches by severing the control lines from the outside. Doing so will require considerable firepower. If we play smart, however, we can do it with less.

Firefly pointed to the large arrow marking the corresponding part of the hull. “Thunderlane and Grana. You’ve each been issued one limpet charge that we will use to disable the failsafes. Khog and Sunburst. You’ll carry power tools to break open the armor plate protecting the mechanisms. Once we’ve set the charges, we’ll kill the failsafe and breach the hangar.

“Major Valor, after we clear the hangar, your commandos are to establish an airhead so we can bring in engineers and medical staff. Sergeant Grimmclaw, I need you to take your team and move to secure engineering after we’ve established a foothold. Meanwhile, Timberwolf will assault the bridge and retake control of the ship.”

“Aye, Commander!” Grimm chirped.

“Gun-users, this will be all close quarters combat. Carbines, scatterguns, flashbangs, and detcord have been issued to your squads. Watch your corners and don’t muzzle-sweep your buddies.”

“Hooyah!” came the response from Valor’s ship.

Roshina leaned in, pointing a claw at the X near midship. “What about the artifact?”

Firefly turned to Rafale. “What’s the situation with the Majestic’s artifact vault?”

Rafale pointed to another arrow pointing to the ship’s underside on the diagram. “The Majestic’s vault system is specifically designed to contain and isolate potentially dangerous artifacts. Similar to blowout panels within combat airship magazines to prevent ammunition cookoff from compromising the entire airframe, the vault itself is suspended in a blowout chamber within the ship’s hull. There is an air-gapped mechanism that is independent of ship systems that can be used to eject segments of it from the ship in case of an emergency.”

Sunburst furrowed his brow. “Then why haven’t the lab crew activated emergency ejection of their segment?”

“The fact that the ejection mechanism hasn’t been engaged already indicates that it has either been disabled via tampering, or that doing so would put the contents of the lab squarely in the hands of the enemy,” Rafale replied.

“Roshina.” Firefly pointed to the dragonness. “After we breach, I need you to take your team and secure the vault. You’re way more magically inclined than I am, so I trust you not to have volatile artifacts explode in the middle of the ship. If all else fails, eject the lab and do whatever is necessary to stop the Talons from getting to what’s in it.”

“Understood.”

“Commander! We’re nearing IP!” Husker shouted from the cockpit.

The warning alarm blared and the deployment doors slid open. Frigid air blasted Firefly in the face, momentarily fogging her goggles. Undeterred, Firefly stepped onto the deck accompanied by her squad.

Off their port side, the Majestic loomed large. Every beam and rivet within the small ARC ship thrummed in harmony with the churn of the Majestic’s massive engines. The Majestic’s apparent movement slowed as Husker and Apricot matched speed. Relative speed vanished and Firefly leaped from the deck.

“Typhon, take the bow-side lock! Timberwolves on me! We’re handling the stern-side lock! Fortis keep your guns trained on that entrance!”

The squads split, dragons to the forward lock and ponies to the rear. Firefly and Eastwind hovered near the armored blast door, guns trained on it while Thunderlane and Sunburst took to the mechanism. The rattle of the LACE-powered impact hammer thundered in Firefly’s ears while Thunderlane undid the rivets holding the external paneling. Heavy clangs of metal stung her eardrums as the panels fell away into the blinding white below. With heaviest of armor plate stripped away, the inner workings of the door were now vulnerable.

Metal clanked and gears clicked with the attachment of Sunburst’s limpet charge. A tap on Firefly’s shoulder indicated that they were ready. Firefly glanced to the other side of the blast door, where Khog and Grana were repeating the same task. Roshina’s side stood aglow with the pale blue of active aether as a quartet of ghostly javelins orbited around Roshina’s right arm and a translucent hoplon floated before her left. Finally, Khog tapped Roshina on the shoulder. The dragonness gave the thumbs-up sign to Firefly.

“Ready up!” Firefly shouted to her team. “Release timers!”

With a wave of her hoof, the timers were set ticking. She counted off the seconds in her head. Five... four... three... two... one...

CRACK.

The shaped charges detonated with a sharp, jarring blast that rattled airframe, armor plate, porthole, pony, and dragon alike. Grey puffs of smoke blew out of the hollows made by their incursion. One second ticked by in silence. Then two. Then three. For a moment, Firefly thought the plans Rafale pulled might have been faulty. Then, a high-pitched screech at the edge of hearing blossomed into the groan of stubbornly moving metal. The blast door halves parted ever so slightly at first, then slid quickly open as the mechanisms finally relented.

“Go!”

Sunlight cast long, harsh shadows into the hangar, leaving alternating lanes of deep black and bright white. Firefly swept left toward the stern, putting the cover of derelict ARC ships and gunboats between herself and the dark lanes. A quick glance toward the bow portion of the hangar showed that the dragons had ascended to the catwalks above. Firefly sidled up to the nearest ARC ship hull, her weapon darting from one potential hiding place to another. The Timberwolves stacked behind her. She held up one hoof in the halt gesture. The last of the hoof steps and wing beats stopped and the hangar fell silent.

“Typhon, can you see anything?”

“Negative. No hostiles.”

Firefly’s ear twitched as metal clanged at the far side of the hangar. “Spoke too soon. Heads up, we’ve got company!”

She dropped low and peeked around the hull. Black-uniformed marines filed out of the hatch to the hangar rear. One griffon remained at the rear, pointing a talon to parts of the hangar before gesturing to move out.

“Sunburst, get the officer. Fortis, targets at the rear of the hangar! Light ‘em up!”

“Aye,” Sunburst whispered. He detached his marksman repeater from the harness, bracing it against the hull and sighting in.

“Roger that!” The ARC ship gunner replied. “Engaging!”

The Talons paused and looked up for a moment as the sound of airship engines neared. They pointed, shouted alerts, and raised their weapons. Sunburst’s repeater spoke. The griffon officer dropped to the deck, the side of his head consumed by a smoking lesion.

“Typhon One, cleared to engage,” Firefly ordered.

A barrage of glowing aetheric javelins dove from the gantry upon on their victims. Moments later, Fortis roared into position just outside the hangar doors. The ship’s remote control turret slewed to target and let loose. Blazing crimson tracers seared the air in the hangar and the sharp cracks from the explosive rounds bursting echoed off the bulkheads. Their numbers decimated, the remaining marines attempted to retreat, only to have their exit blocked by heavy repeater fire. They scattered and scrambled across the mid-deck, most seeking shelter behind a raised hulk on the gantry awaiting refurbishment.

“Typhon, weapons free! Sunburst, stay here and cover our advance!”

“You got it!”

“Rest of you with me! Let’s move!”

Firefly rushed around the other side with Eastwind and Thunderlane in tow. Following the dark lane deeper into the hangar, they galloped up the stairs to the elevated mid-deck. Two marines stopped just short of running into Firefly. The Timberwolves materialized out of shadow, blades glinting and repeaters at the ready. The first marine dropped from Thunderlane’s repeater burst to center of mass, the second to Firefly’s scattergun blast and her blade to the belly. A scream of pain erupted from above. Firefly jumped to her right, narrowly avoiding a griffon marksman rifle clattering to the ground before her, followed shortly by a body smashing into the mid-deck.

“Good shot, Sunburst!” She leaped over the body and slid into cover behind a tool chest. “Fortis, cease fire! Typhon and Timberwolf, continue to engage!”

The thunderous din of heavy machine gun rounds vanished, leaving only the comparative whisper of repeater carbine fire and staccato snaps of assault rifle reports. Up ahead, the Talon marines attempted to rally their defense. Green tracers lashed out at Firefly. Violet aetherbolts answered. Firefly cursed in frustration as she realized there was no cover between their current position and the enemy defensive line.

She ducked back behind the tool chest and keyed her radio. “Roshina, do you have a shot on their position?”

“Wolf One, hold your fire, Typhon is engaging.” Roshina’s orders came over the airwaves. “Khog, Zaan, finish this fight!”

A furious roar burst from above as the hulking Zaan descended upon the enemy, followed quickly by the more disciplined Khog. A griffon body went flying toward the rear bulkhead, slamming into it with a sickening crunch and sliding to the ground limply. The screams of the wounded and the sounds of claw and blade clashing echoed out from behind the hulk. A final burst of flame exploded from the hiding place, charring the rear bulkhead with dragonfire.

Suddenly, all was still.

Firefly peeked out from behind cover, training her weapon on the enemy position. “Typhon, SITREP.”

Khog stepped out from behind the hulk, his claws bloodied and a predatory grin still plastered across his face. “Enemy destroyed!”

Firefly stood and trotted toward the hulk, weapon still raised. Black-uniformed bodies of mixed ponies and griffons lay strewn about. Myriad wounds from dragonfire, carbine aetherbolts, and claws marked the lethal efficiency of her unit. As she stepped forward, she kicked weapons away and pushed on enemy bodies to check if they were still breathing.

Seeing no further threats, Firefly keyed her radio again. “Duster, this is Wolf Lead. L-Z is secure. You’re cleared to land!”

“Understood,” the ARC operator replied. “Duster is on the way. Clear deck and stand by to receive.”

“Fortis, continue to monitor comms.” Firefly ordered. “If anyone tries to radio out you put a ballistic lance through the primary antenna, got it?”

“Understood. Fortis going on station.”

The drone of airship aetherjets thrummed in Firefly’s chest, growing louder and louder until Duster flew into view. Wisps of Firefly’s mane and tail blew out behind her in the jet wash. The ship slowed its flight to a stop, dropped its landing gear, and touched down on the deck. Hatches opened and the loading ramp dropped. Griffon and pony troopers in Hesperian navy uniforms filed out, weapons at the ready. Behind them rushed weapon crews and engineers bearing crew-served weapons, armored barricades, and radio equipment.

Firefly leaped over the railing and fluttered down to the deck to greet them. Seeing Valor at the head of the formation, she waved and called to them, “Valor, are your commandos ready?”

Valor grinned, offering as much cheese as he could muster even in spite of the dire situation. Then he winked at her. Firefly rolled her eyes. He was truly incorrigible! Despite the rudeness of his danger-agnostic nonchalance, Firefly still found a smile tugging at her lips.

A hearty laugh erupted from the Major’s muzzle. “You’re not here to babysit us, Firefly! Get going! We can hold the hangar just fine!”

Firefly snorted, covering up a chuckle with feigned irritation. She turned her attention to the griffon who had just disembarked. “Grimm, is your team ready?”

Grimmclaw gave a thumbs up and patted her rifle. “Ready to kick some Talon ass, Commander!”

“Get going then! Radio when you’ve secured the engine room.” Firefly keyed her radio and waved to Roshina on the mid-deck. “Roshina! Time to hit the vault.”

“Understood. Typhon, move out!” Roshina gave the rally-up hand sign and led her squad out the hatch.

Firefly took wing yet again, landing on the mid-deck before her squad. “Timberwolves, with me! We’re taking back my ship!"

*******

The closer they got to the bridge, the more on edge Firefly became. From the moment they had left the hangar, there had been nary a single sound save for their own movements. Eerie calm pervaded the corridors from bulkhead to bulkhead. Firefly paused when they encountered a corridor intersection. Ahead, an emergency bulkhead had been lowered into place, blocking progress forward.

“Shit,” she muttered as they approached.

Red alert lamps flashed on each side of the emergency bulkhead, the slow strobe sweeping over the grim scene below. The surface of the bulkhead was stained in blood which even now continued to drip and pool into a puddle at its base. A half-dozen bodies lay unmoving at the base of the door, each one bearing the uniform of an Alliance marine.

Sunburst grimaced before growling a curse, “Those bastards!”

“Shell casings on the deck.” Firefly knelt down next to one of the bodies. “Powder burns on the bulkheads. Bloodstain on the emergency bulkhead controls. These guys stayed behind to cover a retreat.”

“Descansa en paz, camaradas.” Thunderlane bowed his head briefly to pay respects before turning to Firefly. “No bodies from the attackers. These guys must have been really good to take on the marines in a straight up fight and walk away without so much as a scratch.”

“Now what?” Sunburst griped.

Eastwind tapped on the controls with a hoof. She jumped back as they sparked and sputtered in protest. Eastwind sighed and shook her head. “We’ll have to go around. Controls are shot to hell.”

“We’ll pay it back soon enough.” The chill in Firefly’s voice rivaled the cold outside. “On me. We’ll sweep around this compartment and see if we can bypass this block.”

The Timberwolves stacked into a line again with Firefly on point. Weapons swept the empty corridors as the maneuvered. The eerie quiet persisted, even after their grisly discovery.

“You know what I don’t get,” Sunburst whispered as they rounded the next corner. “Why did they wait until now?”

“Does it matter?” Eastwind retorted.

“You think I just like to hear myself talk?” Sunburst grumbled. “Never mind, don’t answer that.”

“I mean abuelo has a point,” Thunderlane said in Sunburst’s defense. “If they had this kind of team available the whole time, why didn’t they break in earlier?”

“Pipe down,” Firefly chided. “Do you remember how shaky they were when Fortis called in? This wasn’t planned. They have to be getting desperate.”

The next intersection was marked by another set of alert lamps, their activity indicating that the emergency bulkheads had been triggered. This bulkhead was ringed by blast shadows and buckled metal. The bulkhead itself sported a massive hole through its middle with jagged edges. The smell of superheated metal still hung heavy in the air.

“That makes them all the more dangerous,” Firefly finished. “Keep moving.”

Firefly led the team up the next ladder and around the corner, stopping at the first corner. Just around the corner was one hatch with another farther down the corridor. On her side of the intersection was yet another hatch. Firefly slinked along the wall and inspected the farthest hatch. Signs of trauma marred its surface. The mechanism was nothing but shredded metal and the lock side had buckled heavily. She could see nothing through the jagged hole where the lock used to be.

“Looks like this was the breach point. They must have barricaded it after they blew it open.”

Moving as quietly as possible, Firefly returned to the hatch closest to the corner. She gingerly pressed her ear to the bulkhead listening for any sign of activity on the far side. Muffled voices drifted through the metal. Firefly could not discern words, but she could plainly voices, all very agitated. Straining her ears further yielded nothing. Firefly snorted in frustration.

She keyed her radio. “Fortis, this is Wolf One.”

“Send traffic, Wolf One.”

“We’re blind here. I need eyes on the bridge. Can you safely get close enough for recon?”

“You’re in luck. Flight deck and AA emplacements are clear. Stand by while we maneuver to position.”

Firefly motioned to the others while the ship was in flight. “Sunburst, Thunderlane, take this hatch door. Windy, with me.”

Sunburst nodded an quickly slid into position. Moving quietly, Firefly and Eastwind split from the group and stacked on the far hatch. The rear member of each stack unclipped a flasbang grenade from their harnesses and made ready to deploy. Firefly removed a length of detcord from her harness and wrapped it around the door’s mechanism. Sunburst did the same.

“Wolf One, I have eyes on. Three hostiles spotted near the stern bulkhead, all wielding assault rifles. I see hostages seated on the deck to the starboard bow side.”

“Understood. Thanks for the heads up.” Firefly eyed Sunburst and Thunderlane. “You get all that?”

“Aye.”

“Fuses on three!”

Firefly counted to three and twisted the fuse, igniting the explosive line. A loud pop echoed through the corridor as the explosives shattered the mechanism. Firefly slammed her hind hooves into the door, the hard buck sending it flying open with a resounding CLANG. The grenadiers pitched their ordnance into the bridge. Booms like thunder shattered the silence, the fulminating flashes overpowering even the sunlight coming in through the main viewports for a moment.

The Timberwolves surged through the door, rapidly fanning out as they engaged. Firefly’s griffon adversary struggled to level her weapon, her head clearly still swimming from the concussive blast and blinding flash. Violet tracers burst from Firefly’s gun, the shots searing her target’s head and neck and sending the Talon marine’s weapon clattering to the deck. Firefly kicked the gun away, sending it skittering across the deck to the starboard bow. Crass electric buzzing filled the air to Firefly’s left and right as her squadmates downed their targets in turn. Sweeping her weapon around, Firefly counted the bodies.

One, two, three.

“Clear!” she shouted.

Her foes defeated, Firefly rushed to the huddled mass of crew at starboard bow of the bridge, flipping open her knife as she galloped. At the front of the group lay the captain. Brahma Kamal’s uniform was battered and dirtied by the flashbang detonations, but she appeared none the worse for wear. She cut the captain’s bindings and removed the tape on her muzzle.

“Captain Kamal! Are you all right?”

“Firefly get down!” The Captain shouted.

The moment Captain Kamal was released from her bindings, she grabbed Firefly by the harness and pulled her to the deck. With her other hoof, she grabbed the dead griffon’s rifle, braced it against Firefly’s shoulder, and hammered the trigger. Muzzle blast thundered in Firefly’s left ear, making her wince. Six rounds cycled before Brahma released the trigger. The gun clattered to the deck as the captain released her grip upon it. Firefly turned over to inspect the damage. At the far end of the bridge lay the body of the last Talon marine, wounds still smoking from his forcible ventilation.

“Firefly!” Eastwind rushed to her side.

“I’m good! Thunderlane and Sunburst, watch the hatches! Windy, help me untie the crew!” Firefly stood and reached out a hoof, which Brahma readily accepted to pull herself up. Eastwind nodded and unlocked her knife to cut the others free.

“Sorry, Captain. I should have caught that.” Firefly’s ears drooped and she looked down apologetically.

“We’re all alive,” the captain said, tapping a hoof on Firefly’s shoulder reassuringly. “That’s what matters. What’s the situation?”

“I have teams securing engineering and holding an airhead in the starboard auxiliary hangar. The Eidolon is on her way to rendezvous with us. Is anypony hurt?”

“No one on the bridge team, thank gods.” Brahma shook her head. “They came in fast; no one was prepared for this kind of boarding action. The marines tried to lock down the emergency bulkheads to stop them but they still made it through. We didn’t have access to the armory so they took us down without firing a single shot. Where are our marines?”

“I’m sorry. They didn’t make it.” Firefly shook her head.

Brahma looked down and closed her eyes for a moment. She raised her head again, resolve burning in her eyes. “I won’t allow this to be in vain.”

“I understand.” Firefly nodded. “How did the Talons get on board?”

The captain shook her head. “No one knows. Crew reported nothing on radar when we tried to barricade ourselves inside the bridge. The attack was well-coordinated. They knew exactly when and where we’d be most vulnerable.”

Firefly frowned. The mole had been feeding intel to the Talons as near as just a few hours ago. That meant they were still close and still within the upper echelon’s communications loop. The noose was tightening around them and yet they still managed to elude her grasp.

“Firefly, we should search the Talon marines.” Brahma pointed to the closest of their downed foes. “Radios, orders, and codebooks would all be useful.”

“Handle it, Windy.” Firefly motioned to Eastwind. “I need to check in with my other teams.”

Eastwind nodded as she trotted past, having just finished cutting the last of the crew loose. “On it, Fi.”

“Sergeant Grimmclaw, gimme a SITREP.”

“Good news Wolf One.” Grimm’s voice came over the airwaves. “We’ve secured engineering. Ship engines and power systems appear undamaged. No signs of tampering or explosives.”

“Excellent,” Firefly radioed back. “Fortify your position until we can verify the rest of the ship is secure.”

“Aye, Commander.”

“Galatine One-One, this is Wolf One. Bridge is clear. Leave second squad at the airhead and move first squad to the bridge.”

“Understood,” Valor replied. “Galatine is omen-majesty.”

“Typhon One, SITREP.”

Silence. Firefly pawed at the deck in irritation. After waiting several seconds, she tried again. “Typhon One, do you copy?”

“Firefly!” Eastwind called out. “There’s something you need to see.”

Firefly trotted over to the port bow corner of the bridge where Eastwind knelt over the dead Talon. The marine’s uniform was just as the vault crew had reported: black, nondescript, and without any identifying insignia other than a white and gold sleeve band. Eastwind dropped the balaclava, goggles, and helmet she had been holding before gently rotating the griffon’s face into view with her hooves.

Firefly squinted and scanned the face up and down, but no recognition came. “What am I looking at?”

“I don’t know what unit he belonged to,” Eastwind said, “but he was definitely assigned to this ship.”

“Wait, I know him,” Brahma said as she trotted up to the body. “He’s Pyrian. He was part of the ACG team assigned to the Majestic!”

“He was ACG?” Firefly muttered in disbelief.

The realization struck like a thunderbolt. ACG operators had assaulted their ship and broken into their vaults? ACG operators had killed their marines? ACG operators had leaked their operations information to the Talons? ACG was the enemy?

“We’ve been compromised.” Brahma said grimly.

A pang of dread coursed through Firefly at the Captain’s pronouncement, clawing at her belly and chilling her spine. Was ACG compromised by the Talons? Or were they behind this all along? Her heart sank when her mind finally flitted to Roshina. Her words from before the mission to Amore’s Rest echoed in her head.

I had hoped that it would wait until we had returned from deployment, but we may no longer have that luxury.

“Roshina... she mentioned trouble in ACG. Gods dammit, why did you have to be so cryptic about it! I could have helped!” Firefly snarled. She hammered the radio PTT switch again. “Roshina! I need a SITREP! What the hell is going on down there!”

Silence was the only response.

“We need to get to the vault. NOW.”

Equestrian Horizon

by Jin Shu

Preface: When the Storm Ends

Prologue: Timberwolf One

1. Majestic

2. Shore Leave

3. Inferno

4. Lacuna

5. Tango

6. Legacy

7. Pernach

8. Colossus

9. The Abyss

10. Unearthed

11. Entanglement

12. Red Moon

13. Demon

14. Interlude: Bereft

15. Megiddo

16. Intruder

17. Burden of Command

18. Internal Affairs

19. Interlude: Rehab

20. Black Rain

21. The Hushed Empress

22. Prey

23. Interlude: Old Debts

24. Ouroboros

25. Mayday