Preface: When the Storm Ends
Prologue: Timberwolf One
"I saw her death in my dreams, many times. It was the nightmare I'd never forget."
A flash of bright pink streaked across the sky, a terrible roar issuing from somewhere within the blurred shape. In an instant, its prey fell, forcibly ventilated by lances of radiant aether. The streak slowed, resolving itself into the airborne form of a single pegasus. The pink came from her coat, its color showing through the ash and dust that stained portions of it grey and black. Her azure mane barely peeked out from beneath a flier's cap, her eyes obscured by darkened flight goggles. Her tail was of the same color, streaks of grey shimmering in it as it streamed out behind her in the wind.
"I wanted to be a hero. Not for fame, not for fortune, but that through my deeds I might someday atone for what I’d done."
With a swipe of her fetlock, Firefly wiped the sweat and grime from her muzzle. Thick with the smell of ozone and burned propellant, the smokey miasma wormed its way into everything, her coat, her mane, her skin, her bones. All around her was chaos. Bursts of flak left black pockmarks in the midst of the raging sky. Forked lightning arced between storm barrier clouds. Machine gun tracers and aetheric repeater fire left ghostly streaks in the air and the aether. To most, this was hell. To Firefly, this was nirvana.
"Storm Warden, this is Tyrant's Bane, we've taken damage and our deck guns are offline. Requesting combat flier cover as we withdraw."
The airwaves simmered with activity. Airborne radar and communication vessels calling targets and directing their flights, squadron leaders calling kills and casualties, the occasional fragment from high command shifting the currents of battle — all flowed together in a symphony of warfare around her. In the utter chaos of combat, Firefly found her poise, her center point, her peace.
"Understood, Tyrant's Bane. Timberwolf flight, new tasking," a voice crackled in her earpiece. "You're to cover the Tyrant's Bane as she falls back. Alter your heading to zero-two-three and look for hostiles at 12 angels."
"Roger that, Storm Warden," Firefly answered, tipping her wings to come about on the new compass heading. "Timberwolf vectoring for intercept."
The background chatter of Storm Warden brought comfort to Firefly. Despite the fact that the pegasus could not see radar beams or hear the fleet radios directly, the ARC ships could always be counted upon to keep them in the loop. Knowledge was power and Firefly aimed to keep the upper hoof.
"Manticore flight, I need you to backstop Timberwolf's advance. Alter heading to one-one-eight and descend to 14 angels. Close the line and hold the perimeter until reinforcements arrive."
"Copy that, Storm Warden, Manticore is Omen-Majesty."
"All Timberwolf elements, form up on me!" Firefly broadcasted.
Appearing on command, the three other members of Timberwolf squadron ascended, linking up in formation with Firefly in the lead. The flight of pegasi floated above the flak while carefully scanning the skies below. Just above the last set of storm barriers off the bow of the Tyrant's Bane, Firefly could make out black shapes against the backdrop of clouds.
"There's the Bane!" the declaration from her wingpony confirmed Firefly's observation. "Tyrant's Bane, this is Wolf Two. Be advised, bandits closing in from your one o'clock, high. Clear your decks! Timberwolf is rolling in guns hot!"
Powder Blue's voice came through the airwaves, far more authoritatively than Firefly was used to hearing it. The reply was enough to elicit a smile. Powder had a coat the color of her namesake, her mane a deep navy in contrast. Out of combat, she was soft-spoken, shy even. But after being in roughest part of the war, Powder was finally getting the hang of things. Firefly was proud.
"Roger that, Timberwolf. Thanks for the assist."
"You ready, Powder?" Firefly said.
"Ready as I'm going to be," the other pegasus quipped.
"Just like at OCS!"
Firefly found herself saying that a lot, especially around Powder. What began as a way to pep talk the younger mare into shape for combat duty on their first deployment turned into a running gag over how the battle would go when the Equestrian vanguard hit the field. Combat was nothing like officer candidate school. But it helped to keep morale high and the two wingmares focused, so it had persisted through the fires of battle.
"Timberwolves, you are weapons free!" Firefly barked. "Close in and light 'em up!"
A chorus of affirmatives crackled over the airwaves. Tapping another switch on her combat harness, Firefly heard a high-pitched whine as her aetheric repeater spooled back up. The familiar crosshairs and notched circle of her gunsights flickered to life in her field of view, projected onto her goggles by bits of glowing magical artifice. Over the years, Firefly had gotten to know her repeater well. Despite her preference for hoof to hoof combat, she was willing to take any advantage she could get. A gun that spewed charged aether faster than she could blink helped immensely.
"Timberwolf, this is Storm Warden. Be advised, you have additional bandits vectoring in on your position. Keep an eye out for attackers from above!"
"Understood, Storm Warden," Firefly growled. This complicated matters. But there wasn't time to regroup and re-plan. The Bane needed them! Looking up and looking down, Firefly keyed her radio again.
"Wolf Three and Four, I need you to take out that assault team. Two and I will handle the escorts."
The other two pegasi waved in acknowledgement and peeled off from the formation to attack. Firefly and Powder continued their ascent, flapping hard to gain altitude. As they closed, the two birdlike silhouettes above banked in unison, folding their wings as they went into a sharp stoop. Unfazed, Firefly spun left, slipping between the two griffons as they dove. Powder mirrored Firefly's maneuver, deftly avoiding a midair collision.
"Powder, take the one on the left, I'll take the one on the right!" Firefly ordered.
"I'm on it!" Powder banked hard and peeled left, diving after her target.
The radio chatter and sounds of battle faded away as she hit the apex of her climb. Firefly grinned. The hunt was on! Flaring her wings sharply and kicking her hind legs and tail out behind her, Firefly whipped herself into a tight J-turn. Her muzzle and gun now pointed in the right direction, she tucked her wings and dove. Though the target juked and weaved, Firefly kept him firmly in the orange circle of her reflector gunsight. With a flick of her hoof, the gun sang, its dissonant aria a raucous, grating buzz akin to tearing canvas. A gout of arcane radiance issued from its muzzle as a stream of ghostly violet lances streaked after their target.
The defender glanced quickly over his shoulder at the oncoming barrage and snaprolled to his left, narrowly avoiding the first burst. Firefly flared her wings hard to dump speed and stay with her quarry. The griffon countered by yawing into a wide spiral, spinning into a barrel roll in an attempt to force Firefly to overshoot. Around and around, the two circled, each trying to force the other into defending; pony to griffon, warrior to warrior. Finally, the griffon gave in. He banked and attempted to pull out of his spiralling dive lest he smash into the rapidly approaching ground.
With keen eye and steady hoof, Firefly calmly sighted in and squeezed the trigger. Her gun sang again at her command. Firefly guided the barrage with practiced precision, walking her rounds up the target's back and wing. The glowing violet lances punctured uniform and flesh, eliciting a shriek of anguish from the griffon as he crumpled into a limp mass of cauterized sinew and smoldering feathers. Firefly leveled off and paused just long enough to confirm her victory.
"Timberwolf One, splash one bandit!" she radioed.
An aileron roll was customary for fliers after an aerial victory and Firefly quickly found herself indulging. As she righted herself, however, a flash of light in her peripheral vision caught her eye. Firefly snapped her muzzle right and gasped. A quick flick of her pinions stood her up on her right wing.
POP POP POP POP POP POP POP.
Firefly gritted her teeth as a stream of green tracers sliced through the air mere feet from her head. Shockwaves from the passing supersonic bullets assaulted her ears. The acrid odor of superheated metal salts clawed at her nostrils. Being shot at was unnerving for anypony; doubly so for one so attuned to the air as a pegasus. Zeroing in on the origin of the attack, Firefly slewed her gun on target and retaliated in kind.
A burst of repeater fire found its mark on the darkened silhouette of the rapidly approaching figure. Its surface sparked and flashed briefly as charged aether splashed against it. Firefly mouthed a curse and slipped left, edging by the new assailant after their head-on engagement. She snuck a quick glimpse of her adversary in passing.
The form was distinctly griffonoid, but much bulkier. A beaked helm covered his entire face. Segmented armor plating snaked down his neck, meeting a full metal breast plate in front and a spine guard on his back. Metal plating on its front legs and reinforced gauntlets on his talons completed the protected facade. In stark contrast to the khaki tunics and gunmetal grey breastplates and helmets of standard Aquellian infantry, this flier's armor was painted solid black, polished to a mirror sheen and trimmed with gold. These were the marks of an elite. Even at a glance, it was immediately apparent that repeater fire would have little effect on the armored monstrosity. Firefly's ear twitched as recognition set in.
"Timberwolf, be advised, two more bandits inbound on your position," Storm Warden radioed, "Both Ironclads!"
"Tell me something I don't know!" she snapped. "Powder, heads up, you've got an Ironclad headed your way!"
"Going to need a little help here! This guy's not going down easy and I'm taking MG fire from range!"
"Wolf Three, Wolf Four!" Firefly keyed her radio. "I need you to help Wolf Two with an Ironclad! Storm Warden, get them a vector!"
"Negative, Lead!" the radio signal was spotty and staticky, but her squadmate's pronouncement was clear. "We're still engaged in close fighting over the Tyrant's Bane! Unable to comply!"
"Dammit!" Firefly frantically switched channels while swiveling her head to track the Ironclad through the storm of flak and tracers. "Storm Warden! I need backup! Where's Manticore?"
"Manticore is currently engaged at the perimeter of your AO."
Every curse Firefly knew rolled off her tongue in an instant. If the rest of her squad disengaged to help Powder, they would lose the Bane. If her sister squadron broke off to help Powder, the line would collapse and it could jeopardize the entire battle. The answer was clear: she was the only one who could save her wingmate.
"Hang on, Powder, I'm—" Firefly's response was cut short by the roar of machine gun fire in front of her. She cursed again as she snaprolled left, returning fire with her repeater. Again, her aether bolts splashed harmlessly against the Ironclad's armor. Firefly continued to swing wide left, out of the armored griffon's firing arc and out of reach of his talons.
"Hurry your flank up, Firefly! They're on me!"
Firefly snarled at her opponent, banking hard right and applying plenty of twists and jukes to keep him guessing. She was stuck. If she didn't take out that Ironclad tailing her, she wasn't going to make it to Powder.
"I'm working on it! Stay alive!"
Ironclads had one key weakness: they were vulnerable from the rear, where their armor was thinner. Firefly knew it, and the armored griffon knew it. In both prior passes, he had been very careful about keeping his back out of the line of fire. Though Firefly was sure she could outmaneuver him in a protracted battle, she was running out of time. Powder needed her NOW! She needed something that could punch through his frontal armor... like an anti-ship rocket.
Firefly eyed her target as she clicked a switch on her combat harness, arming her ballistic lance. The rocket contained an armor-piercing shaped charge intended for use against airships. In training, nopony had ever used anti-ship weapons against combat fliers. But Firefly was running out of options.
The griffon looped around for another pass, applying yaw with his tail and keeping his armored front to Firefly at all times. Firefly mirrored his loop, lining up for a head-on attack. A grin crawled across Firefly's face as the griffon did exactly as she predicted. Her adversary had become complacent. The griffon wasn't even bothering to maneuver as he approached, instead relying entirely upon his armor for protection.
A whirring noise over her left shoulder ended in a click-CLACK as the cocking charge primed itself in the tube. Her headset beeped and the reflector gunsight reticle changed from the notched circle to a floating 'I,' showing her where the rocket would land if fired at range. Fighting at range, however, was the last thing on Firefly's mind. She had one shot. She had to make it count!
Time seemed to slow as pony and griffon closed the distance. Firefly could almost count the individual tracers as the Ironclad's machine gun spat hot lead. A subtle twist of her wings allowed her to spiral around the Ironclad's stream of fire, the corkscrew tightening until it appeared they would surely collide. At the apex of her spiral, Firefly met eyes with the Ironclad. The mask was unfeeling, unflinching, and likely unaware of the mess into which it had just blundered.
Mere feet from the Ironclad, Firefly pulled the trigger. A muted click behind her left shoulder was immediately followed by a loud BANG as her ballistic lance fired. Her payload deployed, Firefly broke sharply to the right, standing herself on a wingtip and swinging her legs and tail around as hard as she could in an effort to get out of the way.
The Ironclad barreled straight past her, seemingly unfazed. It was only when Firefly looked over her shoulder that the results of her gambit became apparent. The Ironclad's head pointed straight up, his neck bent backwards at an unnatural angle. Sticking out of his forehead was the tail of Firefly's ballistic lance. As the griffon's wings were still outstretched, his nose-up position prompted him to climb. He continued upward, splayed pinions highlighted by rays of sun breaking through the storm barriers, slowing until gravity arrested his ascent. For a moment, the griffon appeared to hang in the air.
At that instant, the warhead fuse expired. A brilliant orange fireball engulfed the Ironclad, sending what was left of him spiraling into the blasted hell below. For a moment, Firefly could only hold her course, her heart pounding, her breaths coming quickly, and the soapy taste of adrenaline fresh in her mouth. That's one for the books! The sudden crackle of the radio in her ear jarred her back into reality.
"Firefly! Where the hay are you!"
Firefly frantically swiveled her head around, looking for where Powder could be. A burst of green tracers caught Firefly's attention. With fire in her eyes, Firefly tucked her legs and dove.
"Hang on, Powder! I've got your back!"
Firefly plummeted at breakneck speed. As she fell, she slewed her repeater onto the form of the pursuing griffon. A squeeze of the trigger fired a scattered burst that dissipated before even reaching her target. Firefly swore at the limited range of her gun's aether bolts.
"I'm coming, Powder! I'm —" Firefly didn't get a chance to finish.
The griffon fired again. Powder jerked sharply to the left at the impact, struggling to remain upright in spite of her wounds. As more rounds slammed into her, she finally nosed down into an uncontrolled spiral. Firefly screamed. Firefly cursed. She screamed and cursed until her throat was raw, but it was no use. Firefly snapped her wings shut, streamlining her form further. Wind roared in her ears and pulled on her tail. Her gear rattled and her uniform fluttered under the stress of speed. Blackness began creeping into the edges of her vision as the g-loads pulled the blood from her head. But Firefly didn't care. Down, down she dove, desperately trying to catch up to Powder's falling form.
"POWDER!"
