The onset of fatigue was immediate. The onset of pain, not so much. It wasn't until Firefly had hooves down on the Majestic's flight deck that she began to feel the weight of her wounds. Bruises on her chest and barrel nagged at her. Papercut-like shrapnel wounds addled her legs. Her right shoulder burned from a tender wound under the shredded sleeve of her uniform.

"You all right, boss?"

"I'm fine, Thunderlane. Let's just get to the armory, drop off our kit, and head to debrief. I want to get a proper shower and go finish my breakfast!"

Thunderlane and Sunburst continued to chatter behind her as they walked, but Firefly was far from paying attention. The scabbed-over wound on her shoulder itched and burned like nothing else. She was almost tempted to draw her knife and cut the sleeve off her jacket to relieve herself of it. Unlike the others, she'd have to spend some extra time in the armory talking to Forge. In the wake of the Onyx fight, her repeater had stopped working entirely, something that wouldn't do if they were suddenly scrambled again the next day. Firefly was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she nearly walked past the armory.

Correcting her course, Firefly stepped up and threw open the armory hatch. Other fliers stowing their weapons looked up for a moment as she entered. She saw several raised eyebrows and many cocked ears. As she passed, snippets of conversation drifted to her ears. Griffon pirates slain. A ship destroyed. A burning base. It seemed talk of her exploits had preceded her return. Firefly slipped past the others and headed into the back room.

A lady griffon crooned along to the light, breezey strains of an ambling piano tune, the product of a record player in the corner of the machine shop. Hunched over the bare skeleton of a field-stripped machine gun was the raptorian form of Victor Forgewing At the sound of Firefly's hoof falls, he turned around and stood, a wry grin on his beak.

"Firefly! Come to bring me another one of my babies you've killed?" Forge's greeting broke the idle chatter in the background.

"Give it a rest, Forge!" Firefly snorted. "Everypony knows that the one who's really killing it here is Gradivus Prova himself!"

Forge chuckled at Firefly's barb against the weapons manufacturer. "So what can I do you for, lass?"

Firefly decoupled her repeater from her combat harness and placed it on the bench. The gun looked worse for wear, bearing the same marks of combat that Firefly did. Scratches and dings crossed the silvered metal surface of the receiver and barrel assembly and patchy soot and dirty grease collected in the stamping joints. Firefly tapped on the receiver cover with a hoof.

"I did a field-strip and self-test of this thing on the ride back here. Coolant reservoir refuses to eject and LEAPS cartridge won't charge. The damn thing won't spool at all."

The next track of the record began to play, marking a distinct change of mood for Forge. Firefly observed a gamut of emotions as Forge slid the receiver cover off and picked up the body of the weapon. First, there was puzzlement at what could possibly be the problem. Then there was the thrill of recognition, native to all engineers and machinists, rapidly followed by the vexing realization of what the problem entailed. Finally, there was a long sigh of exasperation as Forge unceremoniously dropped the repeater onto the work bench. Firefly leaned on the bulkhead, one front leg crossed over the other, a rear hoof tapping the deck impatiently as she waited for Forge to deliver his verdict.

"Tell me something, Firefly," Forgewing asked, clearly irked. "How many overheat cycles did you run on this?"

"Don't remember," Firefly said flatly. "It was a lot, though."

"And this is why I blame you for killing my kids!" The griffon scowled at Firefly before turning back to his work bench. Forge tapped his talon on the manifest taped to the table top. "This was working fine when I handed it to you yesterday! It worked fine when you went on a full battle-rattle flight. But the second you get into any situation that requires shooting, be it live fire training, FTX, or gods forbid combat, it comes back mangled!"

Kids. That's what Forge called the guns he was entrusted to care for. In a way, he did treat them like a mother hen would. He fixed the broken parts like he'd bandage scraped knees and twisted wings, cleaned them like he'd bathe his own children, and did everything he could to ensure their welfare while they were away.

Firefly frowned. She was less curious about burning through ammunition and coolant than she was about the fact that she didn't remember doing so. The fight in the flak field had been one gigantic blur. Everything had run on fully automatic. She'd fired, overheated, popped emergency coolant, and fired again without even realizing it. She didn't even realize she'd been fragged by shrapnel until she'd gotten on the ARC ship to return to the Majestic. So Firefly gave the only answer she could.

"It was a target-rich environment," she said as she rubbed her sore shoulder.

The griffon sniffed at the remark. "I'm sure you said that about every other time you've pulled the trigger. I'm going to be rapt when I open this one up proper..."

Forge clamped the carbine into the workbench vice. A few taps of his talon on the coolant reservoir and attempted removal by hand confirmed Firefly's earlier report — it wasn't going to budge. A mumbled curse in native Aquellian escaped his beak. The griffon reached for a screwdriver and jammed the flat tip into the gap between the reservoir casing and the gun's receiver housing. His other claw found a mallet and lined up his strike. With three taps and a shimmy, the reservoir was free.

The reservoir protested its removal by beginning to ooze purple-pink liquid coolant from a crack on the bottom casing. Forge squawked in surprise as coolant dribbled onto his work apron and smeared on his outstretched talons. The griffon swore again in his native tongue and slammed the ornery component down onto a metal tray on his bench before wiping his claws down on a shop rag. Whirling back around to face Firefly, Forge pointed a now comically pink talon back to the offending weapon.

"Look at this!" Forge growled. "Are you seeing this? This is why you couldn't remove the coolant reservoir! You ran it so hot that the casing cracked, the pump fused, and the contacts are all buggered now. I'll have to replace all of these!"

Firefly stared blankly at the broken weapon. She wasn't an engineer, but it was easy to see that just about everything had been thoroughly wrecked. Black patches fouled the inside of the reservoir well. Bright pink coolant was beginning to congeal on the receiver from the earlier spill. A sickening smell that resembled cupcakes mixed with burned hair began emanating from the mutilated mess of metal and electronics.

"You know, if the hardware is that shitty, why don't you send in a request for revision to FleetCOM?" Firefly said.

"Because they worked fine in all of the testing that I did, as long as you kept them within design parameters! The emergency coolant charges are there to give you backup when you need to be able to fire immediately after overheat."

The fuse was lit. Firefly didn't need a lecture on how she was supposed to act. She did what she did and she was damn good at it. She didn't need ground crew telling her how to fly.

"I always need to fire immediately after overheat!" Firefly angrily shot back.

Her response was vicious, more so than she'd originally intended it to be, but Forge was really starting to grind on her nerves. This was a waste of time. She was here to return her gun so she could debrief and then hit the showers!

The older griffon massaged his forehead with a claw, obviously vexed at Firefly's obstinance. Firefly's expression remained unchanged. When he realized his prior approach wouldn't work, Forge took a deep breath and addressed her again. His tone was noticeably softer, more concerned than angry, though the tinge of exasperation never quite disappeared.

"It would be different if this were an isolated incident, Firefly, but every sortie you've flown that involved live fire in the past month has required me to completely overhaul your gun. FleetCOM actually filed an inquiry to see if I was secretly pinching parts because I was going through spares so fast!"

"You can't keep your bureaucrats on a leash?"

Forge sighed. "That's not what I meant, Firefly. This isn't about the brass and it's not about the guns. It's about you."

"It's not my fault the build quality isn't up to spec!"

"No, Firefly!" Forge chided Firefly with a raised talon. "You've tested these repeaters yourself. You know that Prova makes good kit!"

He was right, of course. The Prova RA-16 was good kit. Firefly had tested them plenty. She'd flown into the face of death with them and slain more than her fair share of foes with them. But they still had their limits. Limits were unacceptable. Firefly gritted her teeth and ground her hoof into the deck. Everything was unacceptable; the repeaters, the music, and certainly the way Forge was treating her!

"Not good enough, Forge!" The proverbial fuse expired, finally setting Firefly ablaze. Each word out of her mouth was louder and more ferociously shouted than the last. "The Prova guys think they can give me these panzy-ass pea-shooters and expect me to fight pirates and protect the Crystal Empire? GIMME A GODS-DAMNED BREAK!"

Firefly leaped up and slammed her hooves into the deck. The impact was so sharp that the record player needle skipped out of its groove, the grating noise of scratching record giving way to the hollow echo of hooves on metal. Firefly's chest heaved and her wings flared out, her ears pinned back and back arched as if ready to leap at an opponent.

Fire burned in Firefly's eyes, a fire which was now directed at Victor Forgewing. The griffon took a step back at the sudden outburst, then froze. For a long moment, he stood in stunned silence as Firefly continued to glower. Finally, Forge took a deep breath and spoke.

"I don’t know what you’ve been dealing with, Firefly," he said, his voice softer in volume but not in tone. "And really it’s not my place to know. I’m just the ordnance tech. But I can tell you that running repeaters hot for weeks on end will burn them out faster than anything."

Firefly said nothing at first. She was too angry. But as Forge looked her in the eye, she realized that she was on her hooves, her wings outstretched, and her muscles tensed as if preparing to strike at prey. Firefly folded her wings and forced herself to breathe. The adrenaline rush left an uncomfortable tingling sensation in her chest and the ache from slamming bare hooves into tempered metal addled her legs.

Her voice quavered ever so slightly when she spoke. "You prescribing me shore leave?"

"Overclocked hardware needs cooling, cleaning, and maintenance, too." Forge tapped a talon on his head at the mention of hardware.

"Never figured myself as a... high maintenance gal, Forge."

"A little maintenance is good for everyone, Firefly."

"Nnngh." Firefly's response was half grunted and half sighed. Even the armory tech could tell she was on edge. It was going to be a long day.

"Uh, boss?"

Thunderlane's voice made Firefly's cheeks burn and her ears droop. They'd heard the whole thing. Firefly gritted her teeth, forced herself to stand up straight, and turned her head to face the hatch.

"I have to go over some repairs with Forge. I'll be at debrief momentarily."

Thunderlane hesitated for a moment, but Firefly's determined glare put him off what he was about to say. The flier merely finished with a simple, "Aye, ma'am," and departed.

Firefly turned back to Forge. "Can you fix it?"

"I'll get your '16 fixed before your next sortie," Forge sighed. "Your simulator carbine is ready to go for training tomorrow."

"Thanks." Firefly turned and stepped toward the hatch, but paused just before crossing the threshold. "Forge?"

"Firefly?"

"I'm sorry." Firefly managed a wan smile. "I'll see what I can do about 'maintenance.'"

"It'll do you good, Firefly. I promise."

The ready room was no place for a combat flier. Firefly stifled a yawn with her hoof. Brahma had requested an immediate debrief of all VFA-108 elements that had participated in the fight over Onyx as soon as they arrived at the Majestic. Firefly knew that it was better to get accounts while the memories were still fresh. But at the same time, she was tired, hungry, and uncomfortably grimy from the hellish environment through which she'd just flown. She mused that those things combined would detract far more from an accurate testimony than a proper lunch and an afternoon nap.

"... FOB Onyx is going to need serious work to bring it back online. But if it wasn't for the work of Timberwolf and responding Alliance forces, the toll could have been much worse..."

Firefly sighed softly. Brahma's usual candor had been replaced with the 'professional' drone of an Alliance officer. She knew that it was being done for the sake of the nuggets and the other squads that weren't so well acquainted with her, but Firefly still didn't care for it. Military bureaucracy would always be an eternal pain in the flank.

"You all fought well. I have no less than two dozen confirmed victories among all responders and one capital ship disabled. Despite their superior numbers, we dealt the enemy a crippling blow today."

"However, that brings up the issue of the enemy themselves." Brahma paused a moment to glance at her fliers before continuing. "Because of the unusual nature of the attack, I wanted to have your after action reports compiled ASAP in person, which is why I recalled you to the Majestic. We have reinforced Onyx and are maintaining airship presence in the area to deter subsequent incursions. I will have more information when the REIN analysts get back to me. Any questions?"

Quiet glances were exchanged between all present company, but nopony spoke up.

"You're all dismissed," she said as she clapped her hoof on the deck. "Lieutenant Commanders Firefly and Roshina, a word with you, please?"

Firefly remained in her seat as the other fliers filed out. Ordinarily, being asked to stay behind would be reason for concern. But of course, it was Firefly herself who had requested an audience.

"Do you want us to stay, Firefly?"

"Hit the showers, Thunderlane. I have to go over a few things with the CAG real quick."

Thunderlane managed a sloppy half-salute to her before trotting off with the others. The ready room emptied as pony, griffon, and areion alike filed out. Finally, only three remained; Brahma Kamal, Roshina, and Firefly herself.

"Commanders," Brahma began, "I'd like to go over a few issues in the Onyx report. Just prior to the Hresvelgr's intervention and subsequent enemy retreat, there was a rather egregious friendly fire incident. I'd like to hear both sides, starting with you, Firefly."

Firefly jumped into her testimony immediately. "As I said in my after-action report, Lieutenant Commander al-Majed fired self-seeking magic missiles into the furball, knowing that they would seek any target — including friendlies. She very well could have killed me or my squad during the attack and not even known it."

Brahma Kamal stepped out from behind the podium, pacing before the two squad leaders as she listened. Firefly tried to read her, but Brahma betrayed nothing. The areion resettled her wings and spoke to Roshina. "Roshina? Do you have a rebuttal?"

Roshina looked to Firefly for a moment before turning to Brahma. As she spoke, she moved her talons to indicate relative positions of the units in question. "My squad was coming in from the northeast, which placed us beyond the outer flak field. During the attack, we saw tracer exchange up ahead of the flak field, which we presumed were coming from Hydra team. We did not anticipate Timberwolf flight being engaged deep within the enemy formation. Running into the griffons in the basin was very much a surprise. When we discovered that we were behind the enemy, I believed that my unit had the tactical advantage, so I ordered them to engage while I provided support with my spells."

"And you discontinued use of missile spells after you made radio contact with Timberwolf?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Allow me to add to that," Firefly interjected. "Roshina fired a second salvo despite the fact that I made radio contact. I was the target of one of the missiles during the second salvo, which nearly killed me. If that isn't gross negligence, I don't know what is!"

Roshina glanced at Firefly for a moment. But where Firefly had expected a venomous glare, she found something different. Roshina appeared genuinely wounded by Firefly's retort. Firefly's eyes narrowed. What was she playing at here?

"To be fair, after I realized I was firing on friendly forces within the furball, I refrained from further use of missile spells, instead switching to close range dragonfire and melee." Roshina turned and addressed Brahma directly. "I immediately placed my unit on weapons tight; they were only to fire on positively identified hostiles."

"Do you believe this absolves you of responsibility for the incident?" Brahma asked.

"What the hay kind of question is that?" Firefly said jumping up on her hooves.

Brahma held a hoof up in a halting gesture. "Let her speak, Firefly."

Of course she was responsible! Firefly snarled in her mind. I almost died back there! That snake would do anything to weasel her way out of punishment! Firefly could feel it in her bones. But she was on to her. When Roshina tried to escape, Firefly would be there to jump her.

"On the contrary," Roshina replied. "Lieutenant Commander Firefly is right. I made a poor judgment call in directly attacking the pirate formation. I was under the impression that no friendly fliers remained in the area, so I ordered my team to fire at will. I should have radioed in first."

"Everyone knows that’s horseap — wait, what did you say?" Firefly sputtered.

"I said you were right," Roshina said, bowing her head slightly. "I was in error for initiating the attack without waiting for a response from friendly units."

Firefly was speechless. Roshina? Admit that she was wrong? Or more importantly, sincerely admit she was wrong? It was the second part that bothered Firefly the most. Even in the short time she'd known of her, Firefly had gotten a feeling for Roshina. She was slimy as a hydra and grinned like a madpony when called out on it. But that uncomfortable aura of smugness and slyness was suddenly gone, leaving Firefly thoroughly confused.

"In conclusion, Commander, I admit full culpability for the incident and will accept any disciplinary action you choose to issue." Roshina finished.

"Firefly?" Brahma turned to her as she spoke. "Since you were the victim in the incident, I think you should have a say in what needs to be done."

It was implicit power. Firefly could do whatever she wanted. She could kick that smug snake in the teeth and knock her down a few pegs. She could have her scrubbing latrines for a month. She could denigrate and humiliate on command. But somehow, she didn't feel right doing it. Sincerity was something Firefly valued. It was also something Firefly readily picked up on. Roshina's resignment was legitimate as far as Firefly could tell. Firefly bruxed her teeth. Hopefully she didn't regret what she was about to do.

"You’re forgiven..." she said slowly. "As long as you don’t let it happen again."

"Then it's settled." Brahma rapped her hoof on the deck to bring the meeting to a close. "Because of the extraordinary circumstances of this incident and the lack of friendly casualties, I will not issue disciplinary action... this time. Let us make a learning experience of this."

"Yes ma'am," Firefly and Roshina said in unison.

"You're dismissed."

Firefly took wing and glided to the exit hatch. She was confused — not just with Roshina, but with herself. An unintelligible curse left her lips as she paused just outside the threshold. Inside the ready room, Roshina and Brahma Kamal exchanged a few final words before the clacking of talons on the deck began moving toward the hatch. As Roshina stepped into the corridor, Firefly grabbed her by the arm. Though her shoulder burned from the wound, she gritted her teeth and ignored it. She had to know.

"Hey!" The dragon hissed at being accosted. "What was that for?"

"We need to talk, Roshina."

"About what?"

"Against my better judgment, I didn't get you slapped with disciplinary action." Firefly glared at Roshina as she spoke. "But I pride myself on being a good judge of character and I never figured you to back down like you did. What the hell is going on here?"

Roshina stared at Firefly, perplexed, for a moment before a wan smile tugged at her mouth. The slight smile spread until it wrested control of her entire mouth. From the smile, sprang laughter. Roshina's laugh began as a soft snicker before rapidly escalating to a full-on cackle. Firefly raised an eyebrow in confusion, confusion which rapidly turned to anger.

"What's so funny?" She snarled.

Roshina held up a claw in a halting gesture as she covered her mouth with the other. It took a moment, but finally Roshina was able to contain herself enough to speak. "I'm sorry, Firefly. But you are so serious about this!"

"I shouldn't be serious about getting to the bottom of things?"

"The bottom of what, Firefly?" Roshina held her hands out palms up to emphasize her point. "You think I'm trying to trick you by admitting fault for the incident?"

Firefly had no answer. The more she thought about it, the less she had to go on. Roshina had been tried and cleared by Brahma and even Firefly herself.

Seeing Firefly's hesitation, Roshina continued. "I understand if you don't accept my apology. You're a mare of action. My words are probably meaningless to you, especially in the wake of a near-death experience."

"I was concerned because of the spat last night at the Six Carat Horseshoe."

"So you think I'm going to put a petty dispute above my job? Would I really try to murder you over something as silly as an argument in a bar on shore leave?"

"What if I said yes?"

"I don't think you give me enough credit!" Her eyes narrowed at Firefly's remark, but softened again as she continued. "I'm trying to take steps to be friendly, Firefly. Believe it or not, I actually have a lot of respect for your accomplishments."

"My accomplishments?" Firefly lifted her ear, curious as to what Roshina would say.

"I had no idea who you were before I read the AAR. It finally dawned on me when I talked to Brahma just now."

"I don't follow."

It was a lie. Firefly knew exactly where Roshina was going with this and she didn't like it one bit. Roshina was planning to talk about things that Firefly never wanted to talk about again.

"Don't be too modest, Firefly. You're something of a celebrity in the SOF community, even as far south as Pyrian ACG. The Equestrian Timberwolves, Heroes of Valdus!"

"No one was a hero at Valdus," Firefly said darkly.

The sudden gravitas of Firefly's words immediately dampened the conversation. Firefly stared blankly forward through eyes half-lidded from fatigue, looking through Roshina rather than at her. The dragon picked up on her cues and changed the subject.

"Look Firefly, I know we started off on the wrong foot, but I don't like leaving loose ends. I figured it wouldn't kill me to swallow my pride and try to make amends. We're on the same side, after all. But I'm not going to put a knife to your throat and ask you to respect me."

"Respect is earned, Roshina."

"I know. I'm not even asking for that. I'm just offering friendship. Whether or not you choose to accept my offer is up to you."

The bomb was dropped. Firefly's head spun from the implications. Roshina wanted to be friends? Did Pyrian dragons even understand what friendship was? Firefly's incredulity was rapidly overriden by her common sense. Roshina had not shown any indications of being duplicitous this encounter — as much as Firefly hated to admit it. There was a long pause before Firefly spoke again.

"We don't get a lot of friends up here, so we could use all the friends we can get," she finally said. Suddenly, it seemed that the great weight of her prior words had been lifted from the conversation. Though she was far from perky, Firefly now felt comfortable enough to crack a joke. "Besides, I guess what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, eh?"

It was enough to elicit a chuckle from Roshina. The dragon glanced quickly at the clock in the corridor. "I need to file a report with ACG before they'll throw me a chit for R&R, so I should get going."

"Have fun."

Roshina smiled and issued a casual mock salute. "I’ll be seeing you, Firefly."

Tepid drops pattered upon tin roofs. Undulating rills snaked down miniature gravel ravines and dirt canyons. The world faded into a dim mist, a warm foggy blanket that wrapped the senses in natural rhythms and damp, hazy softness.

The old cabin outside Fillydelphia barely passed as a building, being little more than stacked logs shimmed with peat with a roof of discarded corrugated metal sheeting -- not that Firefly minded. The spartan nature of the cabin was endearing -- refreshing, even. The walls shielded her from the wind and the roof was enough to keep the rain off when it came. It was a great place to rough it for the weekend when she needed to get away from everything.

It rained often out there. But while rain in the city evoked images of faceless, colorless ponies trudging through cold, wet streets, the woods were colorful, tranquil, and relaxing. Sometimes Firefly liked to stand outside in the rain, gazing at the sky while it gently kissed her body with glittering droplets of quicksilver.

Firefly opened her eyes and sighed. Tiny, translucent beads clung to her mane and coat and feathers while lukewarm water continued to cascade over her muzzle and neck. But in the end she could only suspend her disbelief for so long. The image of a tin roof in her mind’s eye vanished, replaced with coated metal flooring. The gentle caress of rain gave way to the languid trickle of greywater from the ship's showerhead. Throbbing pains all over and the persistent soot that clung to her coat reminded her that she was a long way from Fillydelphia.

A flick of her hoof shut the weak spray of water off. Firefly dipped her muzzle down to grab her soap bottle, squeezing a few drops into the washrag she had tucked under her wing. She lathered herself, taking extra care to scrub at the cuts and bruises that dotted her coat. Dirty scabs and obstinate stains the color of ash from her coat were cleared with swipes of the wash rag. Tender bruises were gingerly brushed clean. Shampoo suds dribbled out of her mane, down her neck and shoulders, pooling on the floor below her front hooves.

Firefly looked down at the bruises on her chest and barrel. Once again the flak jacket had saved her life. Bone-shattering impacts had been reduced to mere bruises. Otherwise fatal cuts had been reduced to tiny scrapes and tender spots. It was a miracle she hadn't been crippled in that last fight, or really any of the fights she'd survived. She sighed as she worked her way down, cleaning her sides, hindquarters, and hind hooves. Her body cleaned, she returned to her wings. Her flight feathers were similarly stained and in a state of complete disarray. She'd have to remember to preen afterward.

The methodical cleaning liberated her body, but did nothing for the thoughts that swirled within Firefly’s head. In spite of her headway with Roshina, the time alone in the shower brought every dark thought back with a vengeance. Foggy, half-formed words and blurry images tumbled about like snowflakes in a storm. But the more she thought about it, the fewer questions she had about what had happened over Onyx Base.

She’d lost control.

She wasn’t worried about controlling combat. Combat was violent, unruly, and unpredictable. The combat didn’t need to be controlled. But she did. She had to be aware of the battlespace. She had to know who was doing what at all times. She had to be able to make snap decisions when life and death hung in the balance.

But that wasn’t what happened. What happened was in the present, but what she’d seen was in the past. Firefly rubbed a hoof to her forehead. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen things that weren’t there, felt things that weren’t happening. But she’d had it under control before. What changed?

"Mind if I join you?" The question was less a request than a statement of intent.

Turning around, Firefly’s eyes fell upon Eastwind. Her lithe, wiry frame was sans uniform, the removal of her flight jacket and combat tunic leaving comically-clean sections of pale yellow coat bracketed by grey stains from ash, gunsmoke, and sweat. Eastwind wasted no time in sauntering into the showers and flipping on an adjacent head. Her incorrigible perkiness stood in stark contrast to Firefly’s tired brooding.

Firefly sniffed in mock contempt before replying. "It's the head. It's open to the whole damn ship!"

"I was being polite." A smirk played at Eastwind’s lips, as she shook out her mane and gave her tail a flick into the showerhead’s spray.

"Never figured you to be the polite type."

"I have my moments," she teased. "I figured I'd at least give you time to lather up while my ass wasn't taking up space in the showers!"

Firefly gave her a sidelong glance before returning to her task. Feathers were laid back into place, grime was scrubbed off pinions, and aching joints were painfully moved through their full range of motion. She flicked the water on again. Firefly winced and grunted in pain as the washed-off soap bit into the wound on her shoulder.

Firefly's paroxysm attracted the attention of her wingmare. "You did go see the medics, right?"

"They came to me," Firefly grunted through gritted teeth. "I sent them on to more urgent casualties."

Eastwind stepped out of the stream of her own shower and gently laid a hoof on Firefly’s back. Her eyes darted down to the wound, studying it. Firefly’s entire body tensed under Eastwind’s touch. "You should get that stitched up in the med bay."

"I have to clean it first, Windy!" The words were out of Firefly’s mouth before she could think about them.

Eastwind visibly recoiled at the sudden shout. Her ears drooped and her tail flicked nervously for a split second before she regained her composure. Firefly looked down, unable to maintain eye contact with her. She was out of line and she knew it.

"Just saying.” Eastwind’s reply was guarded, clearly in anticipation of a physical rebuke to follow the verbal one.

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence. Though Firefly didn’t meet her eyes, she could tell there was something on the tip of Eastwind’s tongue. Finally, her wingmare spoke, this time barely above a whisper. "You don't need any more scars..."

Firefly felt her gut twist. Eastwind didn't deserve this. She might have had the patience of a saint, but she was still mortal. Sooner or later that was going to break down. She had no obligation to deal with this day in and day out. This was Firefly’s fight, and hers alone. Not even Eastwind could help that.

"No, Windy," Firefly said, finally looking up. "I know what you're thinking, but no. I just need some sleep. I'll be fine in the morning."

"I’m really starting to hate a certain word." Eastwind’s response was gentle but firm. "I'll let you guess which one."

"I'll be..." Firefly trailed off. A bitter taste lingered in her mouth, as if the words themselves had become unpalatable.

"Look Fi." Eastwind’s expression softened further. "I can't help but worry. How long have we been flying together now?"

"Three years," Firefly mumbled.

"We survived a war and a half and then some." Eastwind took a step closer as she spoke. "We didn't do that by being jackasses to each other. We worked together; shored up our weaknesses; capitalized on our strengths. But most importantly, we helped bear each others' burdens."

"I’ll be fine," Firefly repeated, though she no longer believed her own words. She closed her eyes and let her head droop. "I just need some time alone..."

The sudden warmth of a another's coat on her own made Firefly jerk back in surprise. Her response was thwarted by a foreleg hooked around her neck, dragging her into Eastwind’s embrace. Firefly stiffened at the touch, fighting every thought of breaking free with everything she had. Eastwind showed no signs of releasing her.

Firefly stood there for a long moment, Eastwind’s foreleg wrapped around her in wordless embrace. Water from the showerhead covered them in a soft blanket of mist. Finally, Firefly relaxed enough to bring her own foreleg up to complete the hug. For the first time in a long time, Firefly felt warm; not the hateful radiance of a shipboard fire or the sharp sting of a freshly fired gun barrel, but a slow, gentle warmth that could only come from another pony.

"You don’t need to be alone, Fi." Eastwind broke the silence at last, also breaking the hug. She gently nuzzled Firefly’s cheek before pulling back, sliding her front hooves so that one rested on each of Firefly’s shoulders. Eastwind looked her straight in the eyes. "You need time with us. You're not just our squadmate, you're our friend. We take care of our own."

Firefly nodded weakly. When she spoke, it came out slightly hoarse. "Thanks, Windy. Sometimes... I just need somepony to remind me of that.”

"Hey, that’s what I’m here for!" Eastwind replied, her trademark grin returning. She patted Firefly on her good shoulder. "Now c’mon, let’s get cleaned up! I'm starving! Thunderlane and Sunburst are probably stuffing their faces in the galley already!"

Galley traffic was light. Most of the lunch crowd had filed out hours ago, leaving only a hoof full of ponies or griffons seated with hot drink and reading material. Firefly and Eastwind trotted in fresh, sporting clean uniforms and clean coats after shedding the remnants of the morning's battle. Firefly's shower had been followed by a visit to the med bay, where she grudgingly allowed the corpspony to stitch up her shoulder. Admittedly she did feel better, though she'd never say it out loud.

The two collected their coffee, fruit, and instant oats and trotted to the tables. Firefly would very much have preferred to be able to finish her bulgar, but it had sadly gone missing during the Onyx attack. As they approached, Firefly caught wind of conversation at one of the tables.

"So there I was, surrounded by Red Talons! My '16 was overheated, my BLX was spent, and four assault rifles and two longspears were pointed right at my head..."

The voice was obviously that of Sunburst, who was engaged in one of his trademark storytelling sessions. His performance was heated, with hooves being waved around to indicate actions and emphasize his words. His audience, an areion lieutenant and the celeste-coated mare from the Six Carat Horseshoe sat enraptured with his tale. Meanwhile, Thunderlane sat with his head on the table failing to hide his exasperation.

A wan smirk crossed Firefly's face. She spoke to Eastwind as they paused a few meters from the table. "You think they actually believe the horseapples he's spouting?"

"Does it matter?" Eastwind chuckled. "They seem entertained. How much do you want to bet he says he fought an Ironclad?"

"Not taking that bet, Windy. We both know he'd do it in a heartbeat."

"... and then came the Ironclad! His armor gleamed like polished gold. His eyes blazed like fire. In one gnarled talon was a vicious greatsword and in the other a repeating cannon ripped right off an airship deck!"

"Totally called it," Eastwind said matter-of-factly.

"He needs to give it a rest."

Firefly shook her head at the sheer ridiculousness of the story. To give Sunburst credit, he was wounded in action during the Battle of Onyx. The bandages around his neck covered a wound that could very easily have turned fatal, a lasting reminder that even the best fliers were not invincible.

"Nah, let him finish," Eastwind chuckled. "No need to piss on his parade."

Sunburst showed no signs of stopping. The speed and frequency of his hoof gestures increased, now including facial expressions, voice impressions, and running commentary. "... and then I felt a sharp pain in my neck! I was hit! But I didn't let that stop me! I wound up and punched that Ironclad so hard it cracked the lens in his helmet! Then I hit the emergency coolant switch to give my RA-16 the last bit of juice it needed! I aimed for the eye and..."

"Sunburst?" Firefly said as she finally trooted to the table. "What terrible things have you been regaling the foals with today?"

"Ah, Firefly, Eastwind!" With a hearty chuckle, Sunburst waved them over to free seats at his table. "How nice of you to join us! I was in the middle of the harrowing tale of the Battle of Onyx! Have a seat. I was just getting to the best part!"

"Would that be before or after you face-tanked the seventy-six-mils and ballistic lances?" Eastwind teased.

"After of course!"

Firefly snorted. "Gimme a break!"

While Firefly and Eastwind set their trays down on the table and conversed with Sunburst, the two newcomers merely sat quietly, glancing at each other occasionally. Several times, Thunderlane appeared to move to speak, but never did. Finally, Stormy and her areion companion stood from their seats.

"We'd better get moving, Shadow," she said. "We've got drill in twenty minutes!"

"Uh..." Thunderlane managed enough of an utterance to get Stormy's attention.

"I'll see you around, Thunderlane," she replied with a smile and a wave.

Sunburst, never wanting to miss getting a word in, shouted after them. "If you kids ever need pointers, feel free to come back any time!"

"Thunderlane put you up to this?" Firefly said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, Firefly. He put himself up to it," Thunderlane said, still face down on the table. "I sat down to talk to Stormy and Shadow while they were on break and Sunburst comes up all like 'Let me sing you the song of my people!'"

Firefly stifled a laugh with a free hoof. Poor Thunderlane! His dreams of romance and companionship shattered by one crusty old flier! Firefly tapped the table in front of Thunderlane to get his attention while she slid into her seat.

"Apple?" Firefly offered.

"I already ate." Thunderlane waved it off.

"Poor Thunderlane," Eastwind cooed sympathetically.

"You're welcome," Sunburst cracked.

"No, you're welcome!" Firefly countered. "We just saved you from the embarrassment of having to eat your own hoof!"

"However do you mean?"

Firefly rolled her eyes. "I give you credit for the description of the Ironclad. Very well-crafted. But the rest of that was clearly horseapples. A seventy-six-mil off the deck of an airship? And a greatsword? Really?"

"You forgot the part where he got hit in the neck with the seventy-six," Eastwind chimed in.

"In Sunburst-verse, .455 caliber obviously translates to 76 millimeter," Thunderlane added, rolling his eyes.

"You're a piece of work, you know that?" Firefly said. "Only pony I know who can turn getting grazed by a pirate mook's handgun into getting assaulted by an Ironclad with a machine cannon and a greatsword."

"Aren't I the best?" Sunburst's grin could have split his face.

"Sing it to the oatmeal, Sunshine!"

"I would've preferred a beer and hay fries."

"File a request to FleetCOM to change the menus. I'm sure they'd be happy to help you out!"

"As if! You know they'd just ship us more near-beer and moldy bulgar!"

"I figured you'd be used to drinking that piss-water. Wasn't that a favorite of you Manehattan U boys?"

"Hey! We had enough class not to get anything resembling near-beer!"

"Sometimes I wonder if what you ponies call ale is but another label of near-beer!"

Everypony's head swiveled around at the sound of the new voice. Sunburst's eyes went wide. Thunderlane leaned backwards in an attempt to back away. Eastwind cocked her head to the side, perplexed. For a moment, there was only silence. Firefly was the last one to turn around. She knew that voice. She knew their agreement. Now she had to break it to her team.

"Roshina?"

"Firefly! Good to see you again!" Her toothy dragon grin was incorrigible.

Firefly looked to her still frozen squadmates for a moment before cautiously turning back to Roshina. "I thought you had a meeting to attend?"

"It was less a meeting and more a brief filing of paperwork." Roshina shrugged. "It didn't take terribly long at all."

Roshina's relaxed attitude slowly put Firefly at ease, finally allowing her to signal briefly to her squad that Roshina was friendly. "It's okay guys. It's just Roshina."

"But I thought—" Before Thunderlane could finish the thought, Sunburst jammed a hoof in his mouth and shook his head vigorously in protest.

Eastwind gently brushed Firefly's shoulder and whispered in her ear. "So everything is all right between you two?"

"Yeah," Firefly said as she brushed Eastwind's hoof away. "We're good. Just starting over, you know?"

Eastwind closed her eyes for a moment before replying. "If you say she's good with you, she's good with me."

"Are your friends all right back there?" Roshina suddenly said.

Eastwind and Firefly turned around to find Sunburst and Thunderlane in the midst of a slap fight. Thunderlane had not appreciated Sunburst's attempted silencing of him and had taken to breaking his headlock and trying to push him out of his seat. Firefly raised an eyebrow. Eastwind sprang a giggle fit. Eastwind's laughter was contagious and soon even Roshina and Firefly were laughing a long.

"Back off, Sunburst! She said we were good!" Thunderlane said between hoof slaps to the face.

"I wasn't worried about the blue one!"

Turning around and looking past Roshina, Firefly could see that Khog had come up behind Roshina, the obvious reason for Sunburst's distress. Sunburst and Thunderlane froze in place as Khog finally arrived.

"Roshina! I didn't catch you before you left the ready room! I thought—" Khog stopped dead when he realized who was seated at the table. His eyes narrowed and an ever so slight sneer of disdain flashed across his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had... company."

"Now, now, Khog," Roshina chided him with a waggled claw, "That's no way to greet the Heroes of Valdus, is it?"

Firefly cringed at the epithet. Did she really have to keep using it? Roshina was by all accounts sincere in her respect and interest, but it was still uncomfortable. At the mention of Valdus, Khog's eyes went wide, a look of incredulity crossing his face. He looked to Sunburst and Thunderlane, then to Roshina, then to Eastwind and Firefly, as if to ask if it was even possible. Roshina nodded at the unspoken question.

Was that really all it took to turn the dragons around? One mention of Valdus had caused Khog's attitude to about-face in the manner of a religious experience. Firefly studied Khog's face as he formulated a reply. With Roshina's pronouncement, a distinct change came over him, an air of deference foreign to the otherwise proud warrior.

"My apologies for so rudely interrupting," he said, quickly bowing his head before backing away. "I'll be taking my leave. I'll see you on the flight deck, Roshina."

"Heroes?" Thunderlane asked nopony in particular.

"Flattery," Firefly said flatly.

"Such modesty." Roshina said with a smile. "I have a meeting with the brass that I have to leave for soon. I just thought I'd offer you all the same courtesy I offered Firefly."

The other Timberwolves glanced quizzically at each other, then to Firefly, then to Roshina. Firefly sighed. Now was as good a time as any to explain.

"She's not that bad," Firefly finally said. "More friends across the squadron is always a good thing, right?"

"Perhaps we started off on the wrong foot — or hoof. I assure you I won't bite, so long as you're on my side of course!"

Thunderlane immediately stood from his seat, trotting right up to Roshina before greeting her, "Good to meet you officially, Roshina."

Thunderlane extended a hoof to shake which was immediately answered with the dragonness' claw. At Thunderlane's lead, whatever animosity had remained evaporated. The remaining squad members stood and shook hooves with Roshina, formally sealing the agreement of friendship.

"I'm glad we could sort things out, Firefly," Roshina concluded. "But I'd best get going or I'll be late."

"Take care, Roshina."

With a wave, the dragonness departed. There was a beat of silence as the Timberwolves watched her disappear beyond the doors of the galley. Finally, Firefly returned to her seat, beginning to work on the instant oats that had finally cooled to edible temperature. As she lifted the bowl to her lips, however, she winced at the movement of flesh around her shoulder.

"You okay, jefa?" Thunderlane asked.

"'Hefa?'" Firefly set her bowl back down and cocked her head quizzically.

Thunderlane shrugged. "Something my old sire used to say. Just means boss, but he never used it unless he had the utmost respect for her."

It was enough to elicit a wan smile from Firefly. "Cute."

"Something bothering you?" Thunderlane continued.

"Shoulder," she replied flatly.

"Lieutenant Colonel Badass over here decided to skip out on Vanderfalke's medics back at Onyx!" Eastwind chimed in.

"I was being courteous." Firefly dismissed the remark. "There were a lot of personnel that couldn't even walk, let alone fly."

"I see," Thunderlane said quietly. He stared at the table for a moment before raising his gaze to meet Firefly's. "Firefly, I have to ask you something."

"Spit it out, kid."

Thunderlane wrung his hooves and moved his lips as if chewing over the words before speaking. "Look, jefa, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I can handle myself. I've trained just as much as everypony else that got put on this op and I had Sunburst backing me up. Why did you come to get me?"

Firefly finished slurping up a bit of her oats and stared blankly at Thunderlane. The kid wasn't stupid. He knew that Firefly went far out of her way to assist him when he clearly didn't require assistance. But Firefly knew he wouldn't understand, at least not now. She raised her apple to her lips and took a large bite.

"You're my wingpony," she said matter-of-factly between crunches. "It's my responsibility to look out for you."

"It's our responsibility to look out for each other," he corrected her. "But that also involves trust; trust that the other pony can get things done when it counts."

Firefly continued to munch on her apple. If it were Skywind he were addressing, Thunderlane would have been knocked on his ass so fast his head would spin. Thankfully, however, Firefly valued frankness over form. After all, insubordination was merely another form of creative thinking. Firefly swallowed the bite of apple and finished her thought.

"You're right. But trust is also acknowledging that training isn't experience," she countered. "Live combat isn't anything like OCS, Thunderlane. You're not ready for ops yet. If I'd known there would be a fight over Onyx like there was, I would never have let you fly."

Thunderlane looked hurt. A pang of guilt gnawed at Firefly's chest. Thunderlane was eager to help and he was good at what he did. There shouldn't have been so much concern. Was she saying what she was saying to cover her own ass? Yes. But was Thunderlane ready for combat operations with only one exceptional fight under his saddle? No. Firefly focused on that as Thunderlane prepared another counter-argument.

"The only way to train for ops is to go on ops," he said. "I'm ready. You saw me in the fight over Onyx!"

"They must have sent the nuggets after us because they didn't expect much resistance. Next time we might not be so lucky. You need to be ready."

"And how do you propose I do that if you don't want me to fly ops?"

"Simple. You're going to fight me."

"What." Thunderlane's response was less an interrogative and more a declaration of stunned surprise.

To be certain, Firefly had planned this from the start. On their next training block, she wanted to evaluate Thunderlane's skills against her own. Now was as good a time as any to give him Firefly's brand of instruction.

"You're going to fight me," Firefly repeated. "We have a slot reserved for ACM training tomorrow. You're going to show me what you've got."

Thunderlane stared at Firefly a moment, his face cycling through a full spectrum of emotion. Firefly saw fear, joy, confusion, and finally determination as Thunderlane puffed up his chest and replied. "I won't disappoint you, ma'am!"

"That's the spirit!" Firefly smiled. "And stop calling me 'ma'am'!"

Firefly enjoyed a hearty laugh with her squad. For a moment, she was able to forget her wounds and her fatigue. They were soldiers, but more importantly, they were friends.

"So Sunburst!" Eastwind said. "Where were you before we so rudely interrupted?"

The old sire smiled, eyes twinkling with glee at the opportunity to continue spinning his yarn.

"So there I was, surrounded by Ironclads..."

Author's Notes:

Musical Index
Jessy Carolina - After You've Gone
Peggy Lee - I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart
Battlefield 3 - The Death of Vladimir