Silence smothered the ARC ship’s cabin. A funerary pall hung in the air, seemingly draining the color and vitality out of all present. All about the cabin lay signs of post combat self-care. MRE wrappers poked out of the trash can bolted to the bulkhead. Blood-stained gauze, empty bandage tins, and expended phials of antiseptic clinked softly beside them.

Firefly took a deep breath and sighed. She wore only her flight jacket, the one item that had not taken a dive in the river during the previous chase. Everything else was thoroughly soaked and unfit to be worn in the cold outside the shield dome. The same cold now permeated the deployment bay in which Firefly now sat.

The soldier in Firefly was furious. Her comrades had been subject to yet another ambush, the Canal Ward chase had nearly killed both her and her wingpony, and one of their best special operators had been targeted for assassination by one of the enemy’s elite, an enemy that seemed to be intimately familiar with fleet operations and tactics. Firefly was too far gone for fear. Now only rage remained.

The officer in Firefly knew the operation had to be played smart. She was itching to dig into the information that had just been acquired. Amanuensis tablets containing secrets that could very well undo the Talons now lay secured in Fortis’ lockboxes. Personal affects and weapons with intact serial numbers could be traced and sourced. A wealth of intel was just waiting to be processed.

Cold helped with keeping her mind fresh. The deployment chamber’s vents had been purposely left open to prevent putrefaction of their cargo. Unfortunately, Lieutenant Windwright did not survive her fight with Roshina. Her body bag now lay in silent repose, lashed to a cargo pallet bolted to the deck. Those of her squadmates from the hide were secured next to her.

“Stupid bitch,” Firefly muttered. “Why didn’t you just surrender?”

Pirate tenacity? Aquellian Marine code of honor? Firefly couldn’t say for sure. She grumbled as she sank into her flight jacket. Her breathed sigh went up in a puff of condensation that wafted out of the crook of her foreleg.

The clang of the deployment bay hatch and the blast of warm air from the crew cabin ruffled Firefly’s mane, drawing her eyes to the bow. She snorted and nestled her muzzle back into her jacket sleeve. “Last I checked, you’re not a body that needs to be in the freezer.”

“Nor are you,” Roshina retorted. “So it appears we are both out of place.”

“Considering how often we walk that line, I’m surprised we’re not there already!” Firefly’s laugh was not without a touch of bitterness.

“As am I.” Roshina said as she secured the hatch behind her. Her empty uniform sleeves flapped behind, as she had merely draped the jacket over her shoulders like a cloak. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Be my guest.” Firefly patted the jump seat next to her. “But don’t bitch to me if your scales get cold!”

“Thank you.” Roshina walked to the open seat and gingerly eased into it, her discomfort at the freezing cold cushion immediately apparent. As it warmed from her body heat, she appeared to settle in.

“How’s the liver?” Firefly said.

Roshina turned up her uniform collar and leaned her head back on the bulkhead, cracking a wan smile. “Heh. I do more damage to it with drink than that sniper did to me. The medic says that round took a chunk of soft tissue out, but completely missed anything important. The skin will grow back in no time.”

“Not bad for eating an autocannon round, eh?”

Roshina chuckled quietly. Clean gauze and tape covered her right side just below the ribs. Visible just below the flap of her unbuttoned uniform jacket, it was a far cry from the haphazard mass of coagulant powder and field dressings applied in the heat of battle. Unlike the former, this set remained clean, indicating that the bleeding had stopped.

The feeling of battle wounds was nothing new to Firefly. After all, her previously awarded purple heart had multiple stars and the incident list attached to it was growing longer all the time. Still, a few blade cuts, bullets pulled out of soft tissue, or torn cartilage on her ears from shrapnel and small arms fire was nothing compared to getting hit with rounds meant to stop airships.

For a while, neither spoke, both staring at the bagged up bodies of their former foes and crates full of damning intel.

Firefly finally broke the silence. “You all right?”

“I am alive.” Roshina said flatly.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Firefly gave her a sidelong glance. “What happened back there?”

“Windwright saw an opening and she took it. I should have been more care—”

“No, Roshina,” Firefly interrupted. She turned to face Roshina directly. “What happened to you?”

Roshina glanced down at her. “I do not follow.”

“I know a thousand-meter stare when I see one.” Firefly growled at the deflection. Her glare drew a tired sigh from the sorcerer-dragon. “You’re a battle-hardened veteran. You’ve seen all sorts of shit in the Continental War and gods know what else ACG sent you off on. You’ve been wounded before. But this was different. Roshina, I need my troops combat ready...”

“You’ll have it,” she snapped.

“... and my friends truthful.” Firefly softened her tone.

Roshina turned away, staring into the blowing snow outside the porthole, her mouth moving as if attempting to answer repeatedly. Each time, however, she stopped short of it. It frustrated Firefly, but she held her tongue. If Roshina had to deal with Firefly’s demons before, the least Firefly could do was listen Roshina’s.

Finally, Roshina spoke. Her words were measured, slow, and quiet. “I can deal with staring down soldiers. But in that moment, Windwright wasn’t a soldier. I looked into her eyes and there was nothing there. There was not a shred of sentience. There was only an unquenchable thirst for destruction. And I was in her way.”

“So she was a monster.” Firefly said. She cocked her head in genuine curiosity. “But you’ve fought monsters before. Why was Windwright different?”

“If you speak of hydras and manticores, those are mere beasts. Beasts live in the wild away from civilization and are culled when they encroach upon civilization.” Roshina made a fist and squeezed, her fingers trembling as she spoke. “Monsters live among us; waiting, watching. They are invisible until they strike. Seeing someone transform into one in front of you shakes you to your core.”

“Monster.” Firefly mouthed.

The word was immediately distasteful to her. She’d used it to describe Skywind in the past, the queen bees from high school, the loudmouths from academy; all were monsters. The beasts other ponies might call ‘monster,’ Firefly dismissed. A quarry eel she could kill. A timberwolf she could burn. A monster? Roshina was right. She had to let them live by law. Thus they festered and grew into something unimaginably horrible over years of unchecked, malignant growth.

But surely there was a way to get intel out of a monster? Firefly stared at Windwright’s body bag. What secrets did she take to her grave? “Beast or being, we were supposed to take her alive.”

“I’m sorry for that. I wish it could have been different, but there were only two ways out: either I died or she died. Windwright impaled herself upon my weapon just to try and kill me.”

“I saw.” Firefly sighed. Faulting Roshina for it would be nothing but wasted breath. Everypony had seen what happened. Roshina moved to block and Windwright had finished herself off in her rage-driven fever dream. Despite this, something still bothered Firefly. “She called you ‘witch.’ That’s a pretty specific jab. Did you have prior run-ins? Someone you knew from before the war?”

Roshina shook her head. “No. But she knows us like we know them. Cindermane likely has dossiers on all of us, including ‘the witch dragon.’” The emphasized words dripped with disdain. “It seems Cindermane’s unit didn’t care much for sorcery.”

“Cindermane singled you out. Why?”

“I’m a Pyrian operative, ACG member, and a sorcerer-dragon. I like to think the explanations write themselves.”

Bitter as the realization was, it was true. Roshina was a massive force multiplier to Firefly’s squadron. She would be naive to think Cindermane wouldn’t have taken notice. Still, it was difficult to wrap her brain around the fact that her rival was every bit as meticulous as Firefly and willing to sacrifice just as much to accomplish her mission.

“Cindermane always goes for the throat, but she also knows to watch her back.” Firefly muttered. “I hope for her sake Hecate had an exit plan.”

“Right now I question whether Hecate is a valid source at all.” Roshina furrowed her brow as she mulled over the events. “Cindermane knew we would be there to pick up the drop. That means she would have known about Hecate. What’s to say Hecate and her intel weren’t just a ruse to draw us out?”

Firefly idly drummed upon the bulkhead with a hoof. “Well, the amanuensis plates didn’t vanish when I touched them. Maybe Rafale’s team can pull something off them: clawprints, enough feather or hair fragments for a scrying trace?” She shrugged. “We also have Windwright’s body, her armor, her personal trinkets, and her notes. If Hecate’s intel is off we’ll find out soon enough.”

“I certainly hope so. Cindermane sacrificed much today. She must have gained something from it. I am just as a loss as to what.” Roshina closed her eyes and shifted her tail and wings, her serpentine body curling up on the seat beneath her jacket.

Firefly rested a hoof on her shoulder. “We’ll get her. I promise.”

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” the sorcerer-dragon smirked.

Firefly didn’t flinch. “I have every intention of keeping it.”

“Your tenacity is truly legendary, friend.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way!”

The two shared a chuckle before returning to staring out the porthole at the windblown snow. Firefly slowly exhaled into her jacket, feeling the warm, damp breath slowly dissipate into her coat. A few wisps of condensation leaked out, dancing in the freezing air like tongues of flame. She’d burn Cindermane alive. She just had to catch her.

“Firefly.”

Firefly turned her head to face Roshina. “What’s up?”

“I want you to have something — before I depart.”

Roshina lifted her head from the bulkhead and reached into her jacket pocket. A strangely merry jingle of metal links preceded the withdrawal of a silvered chain. Hooked on the chain was a polished silver pendant emblazoned with a snake biting its own tail. Between the snake’s coils, a sword was threaded.

Firefly scooted closer and leaned in to scrutinize it. She pursed her lips as recognition set in. “An ouroboros. Symbol of cycles.”

Roshina burst out in laughter. “Very good! So they do have some culture in Equestria!”

Firefly scowled. “Very funny, Rosi.”

“Rosi.” The nickname brought Roshina pause. Her laughter evaporated. “No one’s called me that in years.”

Firefly’s ears drooped when she realized her faux pas. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that. I know it’s painful.”

“No it’s fine. Hearing it again is... nice.” Roshina smiled. She lifted the pendant, allowing it to dangle between their faces. “Bashir had these pendants made for the whole squad when he was still alive. Everyone thought it was sappy and stupid.”

She pressed the pendant and chain into Firefly’s hoof. It took a moment before she realized what Roshina was trying to do. Firefly shook her head, attempting to push the pendant back to Roshina.

“I can’t take this from you, Roshina. This is Bashir’s. It’s not right.”

“Bashir told me himself: if he were to die, it had to go to a worthy comrade.” Roshina held the pendant firmly in place and met eyes with Firefly. “He wouldn’t want me to hang on to it. So consider this paying off an old debt. I at least owe him that.”

Firefly hesitated. Roshina clearly had emotional attachment to the trinket. It felt wrong taking it from her. But her sincerity demanded an answer in kind.

“So please,” Roshina said, pushing the pendant — along with the hoof — toward Firefly. “Take it.”

Firefly looked down at the pendant again, turning it slightly and allowing its silvered surface to catch the light. This was the last remnant of Bashir Gul. To even deem her worthy of receiving one was an honor. To pass one on to her, let alone the very pendant carried by Bashir himself, required a monumental amount of trust. The gravity of the decision was not lost on Firefly. Her resolve restored, Firefly took the chain in both front hooves and draped it over her head, allowing the pendant to hang next to her dog tags by her chest.

Roshina smiled. “It looks great on you!”

“Hey come here!” Firefly threw a foreleg over Roshina and embraced her.

“We’ll get ‘em, Rosi. Cindermane thinks she’s got us on the ropes, but we’ve got more fight in us yet!”

Author's Notes:

Filler? Maybe. But extra character stuff I feel is needed, especially with characters as complex as Roshina and Firefly.

Musical Index
AC5: The Unsung War - A Blue Dove for the Princess