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.”

Author's Notes:

The plot thickens.