“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 even a match for 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 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.

Author's Notes:

Red Moon
Aquellian Marine Special Tactics Group (MARSTAG, disavowed)
9th Battalion, Alpha Team (Ironclad)