Fyrenn woke over an hour before dawn.
The group's first destination, the northernmost Gryphon settlement, was a day's hard flight away. They would have to make an early start if they wanted to arrive on time and still have enough hours of darkness left over for a short rest.
Fyrenn took a brief shower, then indulged himself for a moment in staring at the armor rack.
Unlike previous suits of standard issue military gear he had utilized over the years, this new creation was his; Both conceptually, and literally.
As he carefully strapped on each piece, and cinched it tight to avoid chafing, he wondered what a product of combined human and Gryphon design might look like.
Human armor had energy diffusion technology, which could absorb energy based projectiles, such as the blast from a laser pistol or particle rifle, and a kinetic absorption gel layer designed to reduce damage from falls, blunt strikes, and blast waves.
Gryphon armor, on the other claw, was more durable versus directed sharp kinetic damage; Piercing, and slashing. Fyrenn's own estimations told him it could stop a pistol round outright, anything but a straight-line shot from a RAC, and it could retard glancing rail-snipe blows enough to give the wearer half a chance. He wondered if he could take some spare plating back to Earth one day, and test the hypothesis.
His new armor's biggest weakness was that its flexibility and lightness left him open to taking fire in unprotected areas.
Gryphons, being fast creatures, believed their agility to be one of their most important battlefield assets; A fact Fyrenn would not dispute, having been party to a pitched battle himself in his new form. Weaponry, of any sort, was useless if you couldn't hit your target.
As he checked his bow and sword, his thoughts turned to the task at claw.
He concentrated fully on making sure his weapons and armor were in proper working order.
It wouldn't do to have something suffer a catastrophic fault right out of the gate.
Once he was completely kitted out, Fyrenn made his way to the Great Hall.
His understanding, from the past days' experiences, was that it served as the de facto meeting place in the city when not in use for ceremonies or feasts.
The city was surprisingly busy for pre-dawn hours, but then again perhaps it wasn't surprising; Gryphons could just as easily choose to be nocturnal as diurnal, if it better suited their post or habits.
He found Kephic, Neyla, and IJ working on breakfast. Kephic was heating meat on one end of the hearth, IJ was heating bread on the opposite side, as far from the smell and sight of the cooking pig meat as she could get.
Neyla was busy double checking her own gear.
She had not been exaggerating when she said her weapons outclassed her armor.
She carried a Sagittar's arbalest, which Fyrenn noted had two ferocious looking deployable bayonets at the front, with serrated edges and hooks designed to do maximum ripping damage to an opponents organs.
She wore an unadorned basic helmet, greaves, gauntlets, and what looked like a trainee's chest-piece. She had no wing joint guards, no back plate, and no plating for the rest of her legs or chest.
Fyrenn snagged one of the skewers of meat. There were four laid out, so he presumed that meant one for each of them, "Good morning."
Kephic smiled broadly, "Good morning. Varan went to light a fire under Stanley."
"I hope not literally...."
The look Kephic gave in response actually made Fyrenn wonder, for a brief moment, if Varan wouldn't use heated coals as a means to evict Carradan from his slumber.
As Fyrenn devoured his breakfast, he watched Neyla practice with her melee weapons.
She carried an unusual pair of short double-ended blades. The grips were designed for a single claw, and protruded into a longer and shorter blade on each side. The long blade reminded Fyrenn of a cutlass, the shorter one was about half that length, and curved the opposite direction.
With two of them, Neyla had four whirring blade surfaces with which to swiftly disassemble an enemy. Completely, mercilessly disassemble, judging by the way she seemed capable of filling a space with the sharp unstoppable razor edges of the weapons.
Fyrenn gestured to them with a claw, "Those are unusual."
She nodded as she continued her grim, beautiful parody of a dance, "They do seem to take enemies unaware." She underscored the statement by coming to a standstill, and clicking hidden catches in the grips of both weapons.
The secondary blade slid into a hidden compartment, and the swords appeared to be nothing more than short scimitars, which Neyla sheathed at her sides under her wings.
Fyrenn snorted in amusement, and respect, "I bet that's won you more than a few fights."
Neyla nodded, and retrieved her own breakfast skewer, "You should see the looks of surprise. Some wiser creatures have come to expect hidden blades on Gryphon weapons, but few are wise enough to suspect more hidden blades in weapons that already have blades."
The conversation was cut short by the arrival of Varan and Stanley, who looked as though he was still waking up. Fyrenn didn't see any burn marks though, which was encouraging.
IJ offered Stanley a wooden bowl of juice, pushing it towards him with her muzzle.
He gratefully dipped his own mouth into the vessel and guzzled down the liquid, dispelling the dehydration sleep sometimes seemed to bring.
Fyrenn chuckled, "Good morning sunshine. Sleep well?"
"Mfmmmfmmmhmm... Goway..."
Kephic laughed, "Well, I will take that as 'yes.' " He passed Varan his skewer, "I think I'll get my armor on now. The King expressed a desire to see us off, but after that I think we should make the best pace we can. We're already using up valuable hours."
Fyrenn guzzled some juice from a tankard thoughtfully left on a side table, "Do we have some idea of who we're looking for, and where they might be? I know we're pursuing Trolls employed by the PER... How do we track them, distinguish them from other Trolls, or even know where to start? I'm used to having my intel provided by analysts and satellites, so I don't think I'll be much help."
Varan nodded, "Do we know who they are? Yes. And no. We know the pack the PER is employing from the sigils on their weapons. The ruby-claws. As for their location, hopefully there will be news of their more recent movements when we make our stopover in Kah'rsiin."
Fyrenn shot Neyla a questioning glance. It took her only a moment to interpret his intention, "It means 'cold wind.' The very specific sort of cold wind that puts a chill between your feathers, going right down to the bone."
Fyrenn shivered involuntarily. He had never seen white snow, most of the precipitation that fell on Earth was gray or green, but he had felt the sub-zero bitter cold of northern winters, and it was not an experience he was eager to repeat; Fur and feathers or no.
He finished off his skewer, "So do we have a map of the area?"
He wondered how much of their route had been cartographed. The idea of entering unfamiliar terrain in a tactical sense was alien to Fyrenn. Humanity had mapped every corner and cleft of the globe with satellite imaging decades before.
Soldiers had complete access to all up-to-date terrain data pertaining to their theater of operations, no matter where on Earth it was.
Kephic, busy donning his own protective gear, nodded, "The battalion at Kah'rsiin will have the latest maps of the surrounding few hundred miles."
IJ sighed, "But this won't be a matter of looking at a map."
Varan shook his head, "No. It will not. We may be able to use the terrain to locate their trail, but once they know we are hunting them, it will be a chase."
IJ looked more than a little grim, "Your and your 'hunts'..."
Neyla snapped the limbs of her Arbalest shut with a resounding thwack, "If you don't want to watch, or participate when it's time to spill blood, you don't have to."
IJ stiffened, "I have the blessing of Luna. I am prepared to do what is necessary just as much as you are. I simply take less pleasure in it."
Varan intervened to diffuse the subtly mounting tension, "And that's a fact no one will fault you for. Our particular warrior's way is not for everyone, that includes some warriors."
His words restored peace to the room, and Fyrenn smiled ever so slightly.
For a member of a species that didn't play politics, Varan was good with words of encouragement, mediation, and kindness. Particularly for someone with his penchant for silence, and sardonic sense of humor.
Then again, Fyrenn reasoned, perhaps this eclectic combination of traits was what lent him his interpersonal skills, or at the very least formed the foundation.
Kephic twirled his helmet on a talon, before placing it on his head.
His armor was coated in a shade of light silver paint that gave it a very different look to Fyrenn's.
If the red Gryphon's armor resembled chrome, then Kephic's was closer to brushed aluminum.
The trimming, however, was the same reflective burnished material as Fyrenn's armor.
On the whole, the effect went nicely with Kephic's patterning. Fyrenn noted that their clan emblem was inlaid in bronze on the upper left of the chestplate, like a badge.
For his part, Varan was wearing armor with more angular edges than Fyrenn's, and it was painted such a deep shade of gray that it was most of the way to black. The finish of the paint gave it a gunmetal appearance.
The trim was Bronze, like Fyrenn's, but there was less of it, and in different places. Varan had apparently asked that the clan Emblem be worked into his left wing-joint plate.
Carradan perked up a little as he finished his bread, "Hey... Don't I get some sort of protection?"
Kephic chuckled, "No. We're using you as bait."
There was a momentary beat before Carradan realized it was a joke.
It took all Fyrenn's self control not to giggle aloud.
"Aha aha very funny guys," Stanley's voice was halfway between a whine and a sardonic mumble.
Kephic grinned, "We actually pulled a batch of Royal Guard armor for you. Had it properly custom sized and fitted. It's not received its final gold plating though, so it's still silver."
Carradan brightened visibly, "You mean I get a fancy set like IJ's?"
Varan nodded, "It also lacks a plume on the helmet, but functionally it is the same armor."
IJ sniffed in disdain, "We do not allow those who are not Royal Guards to don the uniform.
The punishment for doing so is a hefty fine." Her tone made it clear she wasn't engaging in friendly banter.
Fyrenn didn't like her tone, so he put an end to the conversation before Varan could even open his beak, "Well we aren't in the Equestrian nation, are we? We're in the Gryphon Kingdoms, and until it gets shipped this is our armor to do with as we please. I think, in a tossup between your uniform code, and his protection, I'll take his protection. Who's to say he couldn't do your colors proud anyhow?"
Carradan looked appreciative for the vote of confidence, IJ simply glowered, but thankfully did not attempt to extend the argument. Fyrenn threw in a strong glare to ensure her continued silence.
Kephic quietly took Stanley over to a pile of equipment on the floor, and dug out his new armor, while Varan took IJ aside and discoursed quietly with her in a corner.
Neyla came to stand beside Fyrenn. She kept her voice low, "I see what you meant about IJ. What does it stand for, if anything?"
"Inside Joke."
Neyla cocked her head, "An unusual name for a Pony."
Fyrenn raised an eyebrow, "I'm beginning to think so as well."
Neyla glanced at IJ, still deep in conversation with Varan, "Her cutie mark is a divided drama mask... That's also peculiar. Has she told you her talent?"
"Sensing emotions on some level."
Neyla stiffened. For a moment, Fyrenn wondered if he'd hit a nerve of some sort.
The brief expression that flitted across her beak left him with no doubt; The revelation upset her for some reason.
Neyla's voice had an edge, that worried Fyrenn, when next she spoke, "Sensing emotions is not a talent common to Pegasi..." Neyla paused and shook her head.
"I don't like her. I don't trust her."
Fyrenn shivered involuntarily. He had all but dismissed his worries about IJ, content to deal with her particular brand of emotional grating until their task was complete. But to have Neyla's initial judgement of her conform to his own nagging worries only served to draw them back out, and make them stronger than ever before.
Neyla seemed kind, but discerning. Fyrenn realized her opinion meant an unusually great deal to him, given how short a time he had actually known her. He wondered if it was his own snap-judgement tendencies, his appreciation for her amiable personality, or a strange combination of both.
Fyrenn sighed, "Well, she seems to do fine around Varan, so at least we have someone who can talk to her when she's upset. Otherwise my knee-jerk reaction is that if she doesn't fit with the group; Tough luck. Her problem."
Neyla shook her head, "I agree, assuming that is that I understood your metaphors. Knee jerk is like wing jerk right? You know, the way we reflexively snap our wings when hit in just the right nerve between the shoulder blades?"
Fyrenn laughed, "Humans do that, but with the legs. It happens when the knees take an impact in exactly the right place."
Neyla's amused reaction was cut short by the arrival of Siidran and Linnea.
The group reconvened quickly. Carradan actually looked fairly presentable in his new defensive gear, and IJ seemed to have calmed down thanks to whatever Varan had said.
Kephic and Fyrenn both shot Varan short thankful glances, before turning their attention to the King and Queen.
Siidran gave each member of the group a long appraising glance, "We have chosen to support Humanity in its conflict. For the sake of their future, and ours. The reach of our enemies is great, and their resources are many. You are charged with pursuing those under their employ, and extracting valuable information from them. By whatever means necessary."
Linnea offered them each a smile, "May fair winds grace your wings."
The head of the PER was finally back in his office.
Veritas had never seen him react so strangely to a setback. He had locked himself away in his apartment and refused to be seen, or spoken to, for over a week.
The Carrenton disaster had obviously affected him more deeply than anyone else in the organization. The salvation of Earth was his passion; His shared passion with Veritas.
To see their plans gone so terribly awry had put him in a dark mood.
Normally, Veritas would have expected him to go into a depressive tailspin, but as far as she had been able to find out, the head of the PER had in fact spent the last week furiously working at his computer terminal.
The sealed and encrypted communication records contained more data than the entire average monthly communication logs for all PER cells continent-wide.
Now, the enigmatic man was back in his office, hard at work.
For Veritas, the sight was a relief. As long as he was working, it meant he still had hope, and still had a plan. She was most at ease watching him ensconced in the sleek, gleaming off-white surfaces of his workspace.
She stepped up beside him, quietly, and nuzzled his hand, "I see your mind has not been idle?"
He surprised her with a comforting chuckle, "No. An idle mind is an invitation to decay.
I have had a vision. A vision of a world made pure."
"The same vision we all work towards."
He shook his head, "This time, it was real. It *is* within our reach. We've gotten so bogged down with the Bureau's new program, and the very real danger it presents, that we've pulled our focus away from our *main* goal. Well. Soon the world is going to be reminded that we are still here, and we still stand for their salvation."
The man swiveled his chair to face the window, and scanned the Manhattan skyline with his piercing gray eyes, "Its time we delivered these people into the light."
He turned to Veritas and smiled, "All of them."
"You know I don't want to be overly harsh right?" Against his better instincts, Fyrenn had decided to try and smooth things out with IJ. He was at the front of the group, level with her. Everyone else was several hundred yards behind.
The winds were fair, the sun had just crested the horizon, and the beauty of the mountains seemed as if it could go on forever in every direction.
Fyrenn still wasn't sure he liked IJ, but he wanted to give her a chance to fit in better before he completely condemned her. And that meant reaching out. A task he was not traditionally fond of, but had admittedly had some success with recently.
IJ nodded appreciatively, "I know. I don't mean to seem too dedicated either. I just respect my uniform."
Fyrenn smiled, "I understand the feeling. But the key is what it represents, not the object itself."
IJ responded only by nodding again, and Fyrenn decided to quit while he was ahead.
He pulled back and glanced over at Stanley. He still couldn't believe that Stanley and IJ had volunteered to carry all the supplies.
IJ had explained it as they were departing; Pegasi had the innate magical ability to alter the mass of inanimate objects they carried or pulled. In effect, while neither IJ, nor Stanley, nor any Pegasus, had the aerial agility nor unlimited long-distance stamina of a Gryphon, they could fly for very short bursts at Mach speeds only fighter jets could match, and carry up to four tons for surprising distances as if it were light as a feather.
The endurance issue had bothered Fyrenn, but IJ had reassured him that she could keep up as long as the Gryphons didn't adopt their fastest pace, and as long as the group got at least *some* rest every night, rather than sleeping on the wing, as Knights were often wont to do.
Fyrenn was more concerned with Carradan. He didn't have the intensive physical training IJ had received as part of her Royal Guard regimen. That had the potential to slow them down, and overtax the reporter.
Fyrenn shot the salmon colored Pegasus an encouraging grin, "Holding up over there Stan?"
"So far!" His tone was jovial, but Fyrenn thought he detected the hint of a wheeze.
Kephic smiled, "Look at it this way; by the time we get back, you'll be much more appealing to all those females of the species you seem to be so interested in."
Varan rolled his eyes, "I'm not sure that even matters; Their gender ratios are so badly stilted."
Carradan guffawed, "Just my good luck then. Charm, brains, *and* a physique to match, in a species where the gals outnumber the guys. To think I would have missed out on all the fun if I hadn't fallen in with you lunatics."
Fyrenn shook his head, "If by 'fun' then you mean brutal cold, nasty enemies, minimal food, biting winds, and long nights with too little sleep... Then we're happy to have obliged you."
Carradan grimaced, "Is it too late to turn around?"
Neyla snorted, "And miss your chance to impress the ladies?"
Kephic, Varan, and Fyrenn laughed, Carradan giggled, and even IJ allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of her muzzle.
It was a beautiful clear day, and everyone was, if only for a moment, happy.
Fyrenn gazed long and hard at each of them.
He wanted to imprint the moment in his memory.
Something to hold on to for the rough road ahead.
//SHIPPING MANIFEST: << 019735168-A532714-6391785-B >>
//ORGN: << Dapsen Mfg. Plant (Singapore) >>
//DSTN: << Gavin/Schummel Environmental Cleanup Research Field Offices (Capetown) >>
//IDCD; << 47-1-ME >>
//DESC: << 12x Aerial Atomizer Assemblies for Dispersal of chemicals over a large area. >>
//NOTE; << Packaged items are a controlled device, verification required on delivery >>
STAT: </// MISSING ///>
'Chuck' understood the relevance of the information the moment the warning crossed a Gavin/Schummel server relay in Strasbourg on its way to New York.
Curiously, the original programming of the security AI within the system would have instructed it to delete the message the moment it arrived. 'Chuck' made a ghost copy of the data, appended its own notes, and sent the data via encrypted microburst to the Manhattan Conversion Bureau's ConSec division.
Chuck then allowed the Strasbourg server to carry out its original orders and erase all traces of the vital shipping manifest, and its dire warning.
The directive had been, according to an instruction stack trace, delivered from an external line of communication. As the important new development whizzed over the internet towards The Bureau, Chuck began a new search.
Perhaps a trace of the intrusive directive would ultimately lead to the stolen Atomizers.
They were, after all, controlled devices, and with good reason; Atomizers were a key component in most forms of Area-Dispersal Bio-Weapons.
Nightfall in the mountains was a spectacular sight.
From high up, the group could see the peaks, covered in snow due to their Northern track, lit up at once by the silver of the rising moon, and the liquid rubies and gold of the setting sun.
The temperature was steadily dropping, and the wind had picked up.
Unfortunately it was a headwind, which threatened to slow them considerably.
To everyone's surprise, IJ insisted on taking the front of the formation.
Amazingly, the moment she did, the headwind dropped to nothing worse than a stiff breeze.
Fyrenn gaped, "How are you DOING that?!"
IJ smirked, "Pegasi have weather magic. Didn't you know? I'd need a whole weather team to completely turn the wind, maybe two since this part of the world has completely wild weather fronts, but I can diminish the headwind for us in the immediate vicinity."
Kephic chuckled, Varan nodded, "Well done!"
The rest of the trip passed smoothly. The work of parting the wind did seem to be a mild added exertion for IJ, but she bore it well, increasing her estimation strongly in Fyrenn's eyes.
Before the moon was two-thirds of the way across the sky, the mountains had finally ended their long march, descending into currently frozen seasonal flatland forests. Equestria was not like Earth; The seasons could be very different in differing locations, not only as a product of the artificial seasons within the nation proper, but also as a product of the world's odd shape on the whole.
The group angled for the last great peak in the range. Sheltered against the wind in the cleft of three spurs of rock, tall curving structures stood out, their windows projecting an inviting warm golden light.
Fyrenn had to blink several times to be sure what he was seeing was indeed real; The structures reminded him of advanced skyscraper architecture from Earth. The buildings were shaped stone, with closed massive glass windows. The construction was all curves, with no hard edges. Many windows had protrusions for takeoff and landing, and there was a concourse-like landing area tucked into the middle of the center tower.
Kah'rsiin was built in an area with almost no flat ground, so the Gryphons had done what Humans did in crowded cities.
They built upwards.
Snow was beginning to fall, and the wind was whipping across the forest and into the space above the peak at such a high velocity, that IJ was having visible trouble holding it back.
The group made an all out rushing dive for the landing concourse.
Fyrenn had to pull back and partly shelter Carradan with his body. Stanley was too weak a flier to yet compensate for the wind. In the end, he and Fyrenn nearly crash-landed onto the stone circle, where a group of Gryphons ushered them in with sheltering wings and blankets.
The inside of the central tower was warm, well lit, and dazzling.
Most of the space from the concourse level up was open in the center, allowing Gryphons to fly to and fro without the need for stairs or ladders.
Each 'floor' of the building had balconies and platforms in various locations dotted around the central atrium space. Due to the size of the windows, there was an almost two hundred and seventy degree view. The 'spine' of the structure was host to closed off private rooms, and hallways, which doubtless had their own Northern facing windows.
The effect was something like being inside a glass Cathedral.
There was just enough stone to make the structure feel solid, and protective against the cold, and more than enough glass to make it feel open to the world at the same time.
Whatever surfaces weren't made of shaped stone with intricate bronze inlay, were either made of polished pine, or shining brass. The materials caught and in some cases reflected the glow of the structures many lights, giving the entire space an aura of golden warmth.
The lighting came from a large semi-circular hearth at one end of the room, which doubled as a great hall, as well as hundreds of torches and suspended mage lights.
Despite the late hour, quite a few Gryphons were awake. Some were obviously awaiting the group's arrival, but others were simply engaging in a nocturnal lifestyle, either because it suited them, or because it was part and parcel of their job.
An older ash-gray Gryphon with green flecks, accompanied by a similarly colored fledgling, who could have been no more than twelve years old, approached the group, "I am Varak, Champion Paladin of the Northern Kingdom, and this is my son K'itrel. Welcome to our settlement.
You must be tired and cold, come... We will find you hot food, hotter drink, and warm beds."