“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!”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!"

"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."

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.

"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!"

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.

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!"

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.