//------------------------------//
// Chapter 32 
// Story: Hegira: Option Gamma 
// by Guardian_Gryphon 
//------------------------------//

"Mic check...  Communications are live.  Assault teams verify positions."

"Breach team, ready."

"Fire team one, ready"

"Fire team two, ready"

"Tech team, ready"

Hutch adjusted his headset and fidgeted with the right earphone nervously.  He hated being stuck in the command post.  

Four heavily armored assault teams of ConSec troopers, each lead by two Gryphons and supported by a Unicorn medic, were about to do what he considered to be *his* job.

He had spent so long working in the field that a command position was a double edged sword.
On the one hand, most of his days were spent serving the world as an effective leader, which gave him a sense of fulfillment  On the other hand, whenever he had to oversee troops going into danger, it rankled him that the regulations didn't often permit him to join them.

Hutch sighed and swept the room with a quick glance.  The command post for the operation was the back of a ConSec utility truck parked in a side-alley.  The location information Chuck had provided them pinpointed a large warehouse outside Chicago as the staging ground for not only the missing Atomizers, but several other tons of stolen industrial equipment of varying and disturbing descriptions.

The warehouse was far enough away from the Chicago Bureau that protocol called for a mobile command center.  Nonetheless, someone had been thoughtful enough to provide Hutch, and the technicians seated in the cramped terminal booths behind him, with coffee, so the mission wasn't going to be as painful as it could have been.

That said, the space in the back of the truck was small, dark, and every inch of non-seating real estate was filled with computer equipment.  All lighting came from the glow of three dozen open holoscreens linked to helmet cams, satellite feeds, and the warehouse's security cameras.

Hutch leaned forward and tapped his mic, "Alright...  Commence breaching action."





Sildinar, and one of the new liaisons from the Gryphon military, were leading the breach team.
The liaison, a russet and white female named Seyal, had caught General Lantry's attention early on in the process of forming a joint military strike force, so he had placed her in a high level position.

The warehouse assault was hopefully going to prove that Gryphons and Ponies could act as sorely needed force multipliers to human ConSec and Special Forces troops, allowing Earthgov to gain a solid and standing military advantage over the PER and HLF.

"Alright...  Commence breaching action."

Sildinar gestured to Seyal, who covered him with her light bow as he positioned himself to smash in the side door to the building.  Many of the new Gryphons on-station with Earthgov hadn't had time to qualify with RACs or pistols, so they opted to use their own gear until they had a chance to become better acquainted with human technology.

The major exception was armor;  Human made Gryphon armor did sacrifice some piercing kinetic resistance over the personal sets most Gryphons had brought with them, but given that the PER was known to use particle rifles, it seemed wiser to sacrifice that advantage for the presence of an energy diffusion matrix.

The warehouse's employee entrance door was little more than a rusting sheet of tin, less than an inch thick.  Sildinar didn't even need to use a blunt object, he simply struck the latch with his fist, and the already aging metal crumpled inwards.

Before Sildinar even had time to raise his RAC, he heard the distinctive *twang* of Seyal's bow, and an arrow arced over his head, burying itself up to its fins in the reflective black glass of a PER trooper's helmet.

The corded steel of the weapon's strings could impart more than enough force to turn an arrow into an armor piercing projectile, if the archer had good aim.

"Looks as though we have the right address," Sildinar popped off two shots, and rolled left to take cover behind a stack of crates.  Seyal loosed another arrow, and went right.  In tandem, they made short work of the first platoon of guards.  The element of surprise made it almost impossible for the white armor clad terrorists to mount an initial defense.

ConSec troopers, more Gryphons, and the Unicorn medics poured through the door into the warehouse, fanning out into their assigned fire teams, and working their way around the building's internal perimeter.

The ConSec troopers all wore fully sealed heavy armor, with recycled internal air supplies.

When dealing with the PER, caution was a necessary quality.

There had been no progress at finding a defense against PER potion rifles, however, so the Gryphons of each team were taking point, and rear defense.

The rifles appeared to have a built in sedating effect, but it took three to five immediately consecutive shots for it to accumulate enough to bring down a Gryphon.  Most PER troopers were too conservative with their shots to manage the feat, given that the rifles' major weakness was a low supply of ammunition for their proportionate weight.

Seyal loosed another few arrows, and spared a glance for Sildinar as they worked their way between the piles of crates, boxes, and miscellaneous goods, "Does this really strike you as the level of resistance we should be encountering?"

Sildinar slammed his fisted claw into a small crate, driving it into the chest plate of a nearby trooper, thus giving him enough time to deal with the enemy's two squadmates, "No.  Something is wrong.  Either its a trap or..."

Seyal put a shot through the heart of the first soldier, who was just staggering up from under the crate, "Or?"

"Or they've moved the atomizers already, and we're too late."





"Commander?"

Hutch practically leaned into his headset in anticipation, "Go for Hutch."

"Sir, the warehouse is secure.  I think you'd better come see this...  Something has really upset the Gryphon in charge."

Hutch snagged a RAC from the small cache of weapons strapped to the doors of the utility truck, and hopped out into the open.  The warehouse was only a short walk away, and there was a general hustle and bustle as MPs swept the area for safety.

As he had expected, Sildinar was waiting beside the now open main doors of the building.
Hutch strode up and dove right in, "Talk to me.  What am I looking at?"

Sildinar shook his head, "The PER are shipping great deal of dangerous material back and forth, under the guise of legitimate biomedical cargo crates.  In short; Trouble.  In the worst way."

"They moved the Atomizers?"

Seyal  ambled up, walking bipedally and clutching something in her right claw, "Correct.  And you won't be happy about where."

She passed the small item, which turned out to be an RFID embedded plastic shipping tag, to Hutch, "We caught them in the middle of the shipment.  The atomizers and most of the other dangerous items are gone, but enough was left behind that we can be sure it was all part of the same manifest.  They were dealing with enough inventory that they opted to use tags to identify container block, and destination for each item."

Hutch whistled quietly, an expression of pure concern, "You two wrap this up.  I'll put in a call, see if the shipment can be interdicted, but unfortunately it's probably already arrived by now. In that case, I have to have words with the council."

Sildinar grimaced, "About?"

"Declaring martial law."

Hutch let the manifest chit fall to his feet as he stepped away.
A breeze flipped the wafer of plastic over, revealing the externally printed destination.

'Manhattan.'





Fyrenn had never seen a parchment map before.

The digital holograms of a military cartograph were more detailed, to be sure, but there was some sort of undeniably transcendental quality to the presence of a physical paper to which ink had been set, and many a claw in gesture.

The Gryphons of Kah'rsiin kept highly accurate and detailed maps of the surrounding hundred miles.  Beyond that line, 
ancillary maps were created on hunting, mining, and woodcutting expeditions.  Those maps generally extended far beyond the boundaries of the usual cartographs, but were less detailed and sometimes older.

The group, along with Varak, K'itrel, and the Captain of Varak's guard, were gathered around a large circular wooden table abutting the main tower's hearth.  Varak's hospitality had provided the group with comfortable lodging in which to eek out a few precious hours of sleep, good food, refreshing drink, and even some added grains and preserved fruits to add to the Ponies' food supplies.

The sun was still just below the horizon, but its light already tinged the sky with yellow.  
The previous night's storm had broken, giving way to a cloudy dome of gray that threatened more snow in the immediate future.

Fyrenn found it intriguing that even the gray skies of the world of Equestria felt alive, and healthy, as compared to the gray and teal skies of Earth.

Varak's snort brought his mind back to the conversation.  Kephic had asked for news of the Ruby Claws pack, and it was this that had elicited the disdain from Varak, "Mongrels. Thieves.  Murderers.  But resourceful ones.  They are the epitome of the reason we're constantly at war with the trolls; disrespectful of laws and borders, uncouth, immoral, willing to stab their own families between the eyes for a shiny rock or two."

Varak gestured to one of the dozens of maps laid out on the table, "They roam the north-most edges of the forest, and the tundra it abuts.  They sometimes try to push further south, but they've learned that such action is a death sentence.  The King recently declared them permanent enemies of the Empire after they took a contract from the Changelings to try and collect a Gryphon carcass."

IJ interjected, "What do Changelings want with a Gryphon carcass?"

Fyrenn was thinking the same thing, but he found her query odd.  He would have expected her to be the one with the answer, not the question.

Varak's Captain of the Guard provided the elucidation, "As the rest of your companions, with the exception of you,"  the Gryphon glanced at Fyrenn, "Likely know; Changelings have two forms of mimicry, visual and true.  Visual mimicry can be done from just the sight of a creature, or a sufficiently good image..."

Fyrenn finished the thought, "So true must require an actual genetic sample right?"

Varak nodded, "If by genetics, you mean the life-code within all living skin, bones, muscle, and feathers, then yes.  It must be fresh though.  The carcass must be quite recent, and acquiring the pattern from a live being seems preferable.  This is how we have been able to keep their kind from acquiring widespread use of Gryphon forms."

Neyla winced, and Fyrenn wondered why the topic had suddenly become so sensitive to her.
IJ snorted, "It's a losing battle though.  They'll manage it eventually."

Neyla glowered, and for a moment, Fyrenn thought she would physically strike IJ.  The Gryphoness' voice was hard edged enough that it had a similar effect. 

"Not while *I* am alive they won't."

The razor in her tone brought a momentary pause to the conversation.

Varak had to step into the silence, "In any case, they haven't succeeded.  The Changelings nor the Ruby Claws.  But last we heard, the clan was pulling back further into the wastes, despite the toll on their young and infirm.  I think they realize they may soon be hunted to the death outright."

Kephic grunted, "In which case we may already be losing valuable ground.  Are these the most recent maps of the tundra?"

The Captain of the Guard nodded, "The snow shifts like desert sand though, so you can almost certainly count on the terrain to be completely different by now."

Fyrenn cocked his head, "How old is this map?"

K'itrel piped up, "Three months!  Made it myself!"

Fyrenn whistled, "It changes that fast?"

Varak nodded, "Faster.  The wastes are an unpleasant, cold, windy, dark, dangerous place.  
My son made the map more as practice than anything.  Part of his first long term hunting trip."  The grey and green Gryphon patted his offspring affectionately, "His cartographical skill is innate, and he hones it well."

Neyla offered K'itrel an approving smile, before turning to Varak, "What can we expect to encounter?  I've lived most of my life in the western deserts, or the central highlands and forests."

Kephic shook his head, "Varan and I have been fairly far north, but never quite this far."

Varak stared down at K'itrel's map, "We haven't heard tell of any Dragons, wild or civilized, but that doesn't mean you won't run into them.  The latter are easy enough to deal with, as we aren't currently on bad terms with any individual Dragons.  The former are quite dangerous, and you'd be doing everyone a service if you hunt down and kill any you encounter."

The Captain of the Guard took up the thread, "Wyverns sometimes stalk the forest between here and the tundra, but we haven't seen any in months.  Other types of Diamond Dog roam the wastes, most notably the arctic species, and some breeds of Hyena."

Varak finished, "But the unsettling truth is that, with the world expanding, and with much of this area being unexplored as it is, you may run into something never before encountered.  I would advise you to give little or no warning before attacking anything that piques your suspicion.  Almost everything that you will encounter will be ruthless and hostile, anything which is not so should be easily identified by sight."

Fyrenn tapped K'itrel's map with his index claw, "So we strike out due north?  Keep on until we run out of supplies, or strike a trail?"

Kephic nodded, "That's the plan.  A Hunt, in the truest sense."

"And when we find the Ruby Claws pack?"

Varan shrugged nonchalantly,  "We interrogate the prisoners we choose to take, then kill them, and anyone else present wo is old enough to fight.  Ensure we leave no one behind with a potential vendetta to cause trouble."

Fyrenn nodded, "Just wanted to be sure.  I've never been a fan of coddling hostile combatants."

Carradan moaned, "Just do me a favor, don't make me watch."

Fyrenn snorted, "Of course we won't.  You and IJ are certainly not expected to be party to what we do.  It's in our nature, not yours."

Carradan grunted, "Still, this will all make a great story.  While we're on the subject, can you deliver a message back across the barrier?"

Varak considered for a moment before nodding, "It may take some days, but we can have something couriered back to Tih’ré Seli’hn, and from there to Tacksworn, from whence the Pony Express can ferry it to Neighvada, where it can be posted to Canterlot, and ferried over to Earth by a messenger.  It will not be expedient by your standards, but it will be reliable."

Carradan nodded, and dug something out of his saddlebags with his muzzle, he spoke around the rolled up parchments as he handed them off to the Captain of the Guard, "Been trying a bit of mouthwriting and hoofwriting.  Not the easiest to get the hang of, but it works ok I guess.  I wrote an article to be published back home."

Fyrenn cocked his head, intrigued, "What about?"

"Oh you know...  This and that...  Everything I saw in the Gryphon capital.  The experience of the thing.  Don't worry, it's a good reflection..." He grinned mischievously, "...Mostly."

Fyrenn and Kephic chuckled, Varan raised an eyebrow.





The sun had just risen, only to be obscured by the massive looming cloudbanks filling the sky.
Fyrenn came out onto the landing concourse to find Varan facing north, staring off into the distance.  Everyone had been given a few minutes to get their gear back in order, and apparently the two of them were the first to finish.

Fyrenn nodded in the direction of the snow covered forests, and the tundra beyond, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Varan nodded, "I imagine the effect is greatly enhanced for you.  There are moments when I envy the degree of wonderment you must feel hour by hour.  Seeing all this for the first time."

"Heh.  I don't think youd've enjoyed the trials of living your whole life under an iron sky."

Varan snorted, "True indeed."

A moment of familiar, comfortable silence passed, before the golden Gryphon spoke again, 

"I think you and Neyla need to have a talk."

Fyrenn cocked his head, Varan turned to face him, "She may not be well acquainted with any of us yet, but she seems most open to you as a friend.  She and IJ are not relating well.  It seems as if IJ is stepping on a raw nerve...  And out there?" Varan jerked his head northwards, "Out there we can afford no infighting."

Fyrenn nodded, "I'll ask her about it, but I'm not going to force the issue.  Everyone has their own private struggles.  It took you and Kephic a while to discover mine, I'm not going to deny her the same privacy if she wants it."

Varan nodded, "Nor would I.  But it is worth asking if, by doing so, we can diffuse a potentially volatile situation further along."

"Right.  The best defense---"

"Is good offense.  Old Gryphon proverb."

Fyrenn chuckled, "Funny...  I learned it from my instructor in basic."

Kephic stepped out onto the platform, and interrupted any further speculation as to the origin of the phrase, "The rest aren't here yet?"

Varan shook his head, Kephic grunted, "We're wasting valuable time.  Its going to be harder to travel at night out there, due to the cold."

Neyla chose that particular moment to arrive, and add her own thoughts to the mix, "Feathers are good for more than flying though."

Carradan and IJ exited onto the platform shortly thereafter, again laden down with supplies.
It still amazed Fyrenn that they treated the weight as if it didn't even exist.  Even more amazing was that the sentiment was technically true;  For them, the mass didn't produce the same weight as the laws of physics said it should.

Departure was accomplished without any ceremony or delay.
The group turned north again, and as the first light flakes of snow began to fall, the mountains fell away to the south.  

Below, ice and snow covered trees whizzed past, hiding murky frozen depths, and many potential enemies.





General Lantry was shouting.  His voice was an overpowering force, like a giant steel hammer, inside the relatively confined space of Hutch's office, "I don't particularly give a *damn* what the political ramifications are! The FACT is that we are missing industrial atomizers, the FACT is that they can be used as an area dispersal bioweapon.  It is a FACT that the PER are intent on using such weapons with aggressive intent, and it is, Councilors, a FACT that they are the ones now in possession of the atomizers."

The figures on Hutch's wall screen did not look perturbed.  The Council at large had refused to even broker a full hearing on Hutch's recommendation, but a few of the more militarily minded Councilors had elected to at least hear what he and General Lantry had to say.

"If it wasn't a matter of your distinguished military career, we wouldn't tolerate this kind of...  Creative recommendation.  Especially not given the tone you're delivering it in."

Another of the figures cut in, "We're already agreeing to give you unprecedented jurisdiction and powers to increase security citywide.  What more could you possibly want?"

Lantry slammed his fist down onto Hutch's desk, "You know, as well as I do, that these scum are insidious, and conniving.  This isn't like fissile material, that we can track with a satellite dammit!  For all we know, those atomizers could be under a tarp on a roof, or buried under a dumpster in a back alley!"

"Work with what you have General.  This is our final word."

With that, the connection cut.
Lantry sighed and rested his head in his hands for a brief moment.
Hutch snorted, "I wonder what they'll say when the bombs go off, and half of New York is affected."

Lantry shook his head, "Those devices won't go off."  He stepped to the door.

Hutch raised an eyebrow inquisitively, "Why?"

"Because, working with whatever we have, we can't let them.  If they did succeed?  We wouldn't have to worry about halves..."

Lantry stepped through the door and cast a glance back at Hutch, "Those devices have the yield to affect the entire greater New York area.  Start setting up checkpoints."





The group managed to make it to the end of the forest before nightfall, but elected unanimously to make camp early, rather than press on.  There were many cold unsheltered nights ahead, and it was more advantageous to gain one last night of passable rest, and acclimatize to the cold in stages, rather than immediately throw themselves against the frigid tundra.

On top of that, Carradan was exhausted.  He would have to learn to deal with more strain eventually, but breaking him physically would serve no purpose.

He, Fyrenn, and Kephic had started a small fire, and were stoking it up to a decent blaze. 
IJ had, wordlessly, eaten her bread ration and drifted off to sleep.  She had seemed to be in a particularly bad mood since her tense moment with Neyla that morning.

Neyla and Varan had offered to make a hunting sortie, and bring back dinner for the Gryphons.
Fyrenn figured Varan had volunteered to go with her because he intended to have a talk with her about IJ.  Varan had indicated it would be up to Fyrenn to determine the 'why' behind Neyla's issues, but that didn't mean the golden Gryphon wasn't going to try to intervene in his own way as well.

As the flames leapt progressively higher, producing a bubble of comfortably warm air in the campsite, Carradan stared off across the tundra and whistled, "Lookit that wind whip the snow.  That phrase? You know...  About hell freezing over?"

Fyrenn nodded, "Yep.  Looks like we get to experience it.  Can't really say this ranks high on my bucket list."

Carradan launched into a story about one of his first jobs as a reporter, when he'd been required to go on location in Siberia during the winter for three days.  He rambled on, and Fyrenn found himself content to listen with mild interest, until Neyla and Varan returned.

Each of the two Gryphons was carrying a dead wild boar in their talons, already skinned and gutted.  Fyrenn understood the significance of the gesture.  By spilling most of the kills' blood away from camp, they were helping to stave off the possibility of other wild animals attacking in search of a meal, attracted by the scent of fresh blood.  They were also sparing the Ponies the gruesome sight.

Fyrenn licked the edge of his beak, "Nice kills.  I'm starving, let's get these on the fire."

Gryphons could, and did, eat kills raw, but in the bitter cold it was better to cook the meat for the warmth.
The trees, leafless as they were, sheltered the group from the wind, but the occasional breeze still swept through, and the air temperature was at or below freezing by Fyrenn's guess.

The meat took almost an hour to properly cook in the cold; Carradan spent most of the time retelling his story for Neyla and Varan's benefit.  Graciously, they heard him out, and Neyla even seemed genuinely amused at a few points.  Having not seen Earth for herself, information on the alien world intrigued her from an exploratory standpoint.

The meal was spent in relative silence.  Everyone was too busy eating to talk.  The only sounds were those of food consumption, and the occasional whimper from IJ, who looked very cold despite her proximity to the fire.

Once the meal was concluded, Varan expertly banked the fire, "We should settle in for the night.  Best we sleep in a huddle, to conserve heat."

Fyrenn nearly choked on his water.  The group was distilling it from the snow, rather than carry any unnecessary weight, "Say what?"

Neyla, Varan, and Kephic eyed him, as if his reaction made no sense.

Fyrenn blushed, as always, glad for the red tinge of his feathers, "Isn't it ahhh...  Awkward...  for males and females to... 
Cohabitate?"

Varan chuckled, Kephic burst out into a fit of laughter, Neyla merely looked confused.
Since Kephic was too busy with his hysterics, Varan explained to Neyla, "Humans treat physical contact...  Differently.  Their...  Biologically driven reproduction, disgusting and vile as it is, makes male/female cohabitation an awkward subject."

Neyla snorted, "Well we have no such problems."

Fyrenn sighed in relief, "There was an orientation packet on...  Well...  How our species creates offspring, but it was mildly vague.  It seemed more intent on playing up the fact that we don't require physical contact for breeding rather than actually explaining how it works."

Neyla shrugged.  Fyrenn had been expecting the moment to be just as awkward as when his own parents had explained the birds and bees, but Gryphons truly were a very different species.

Neyla launched into an explanation fluidly, "We are egg-born creatures, but not in the way of Dragons.  There are two innate magical properties to our species, cloudwalking is one, our offspring are the other."

Fyrenn dropped a claw full of snow he had been about to guzzle down, "We reproduce...  Thaumatically?!"

Varan nodded, "There is a very rare, very special type of Agate native to the mountains and deserts of Equestria.  We fashion eggs from it."

"You mean we don't..."  Fyrenn glanced awkwardly at Neyla, "You don't...  Lay the eggs?"

She laughed, "No of course not.  A mated pair simply nests with the egg for a sufficient time, and the fledgling will hatch."

Fyrenn pinched the bridge of his beak, "Wait wait wait...  Lemme get this straight...  We reproduce via...  What?  Magical warm fuzzies brought on by an emotional bond?  What about accidents?"

Neyla looked genuinely shocked, "How could we have accidents? Only a mated pair can cause an egg to produce life."

"Really?"

Varan nodded, "Yes.  Really.  In order for life to be conceived, the mated pair must be in tune, both emotionally and physically.  It won't work unless they have been through the mating ceremony, and shared blood over fire, in earnest love."

Fyrenn sat down hard, "Wow.  Well I have to say that's...  Not what I was expecting."

Kephic finally managed to get a word out, "You...  Ahahaha!  You uh...  Aren't disappointed?"

Fyrenn shook his head, "I was never a fan of the human method myself.  From the second Dad explained it, it bothered the hell out of me.  I'm not the only Human who's ever felt that way, but I'm pretty...  Non-normative."

Varan snorted, "I don't blame you.  But we still haven't answered the question of who takes first watch."

Fyrenn raised a claw, "I will.  I need a few hours to get a handle on this."

Kephic chuckled, "I'll take morning watch"

Neyla nodded, "I'll take second watch.  after Fyrenn."

Varan sighed, "I'll take the hours between you and Kephic."

With that, he, Kephic, and Neyla lay down and huddled together in a bundle, with Carradan tucked securely between Kephic's right wing, and side, in the warmest possible spot.
Fyrenn woke IJ, who groggily accepted a proffered position between Neyla and Varan, too cold and tired to proffer any complaint.

As she drifted off, Fyrenn noted that she looked much more comfortable in the warmer location.

Fyrenn took up a position opposite the group, and lay on his own stomach, resting his head on his foreclaws.  He wasn't especially tired, and the warmth of the fire was enough to keep him comfortable, if not quite warm enough to sleep.  

He faced north, and began his lonely vigil, his mind racing.
The human life cycle had always bothered him.  He was a soldier, and a bit of a control freak.
He had no time, or desire, to be involved in something as messy as human romance.

But Gryphons treated the issue, like so many others, in a refreshingly different fashion.
It occurred to him that it was their reproductive method, combined with their mental and moral makeup, that made infidelity, unwanted young, and illegitimate children truly impossible.  The orientation had not exaggerated in the slightest.

What did bother him, however, was the way the new revelations made him feel.
His distaste for the human romance had always been a good excuse to avoid it.

Suddenly most of the issues he professed to have were out of the way.  No physical disgust, no risk of moral lapse from either party in the relationship.  No worry that a child would be left uncared for if the worst should happen in battle.  

None of his fears had any logical basis anymore.

He didn't like the way that took his excuses out of the equation.
Not one little bit.