Hegira: Option Gamma

by Guardian_Gryphon

Epilogue

The meeting had not been what Fyrenn would have called a 'success.'

As slow as soldiers were to forget the lessons learned in war, politicians seemed conversely quick to dismiss them. Despite repeated corroborating testimony from all four Gryphons, with three Generals of various rankings to back them up, the Earthgov Council had waved the concerns about Veritas, and the HLF infiltration of the final JRSF operation, aside.

As the four Gryphons, two Ponies, Hutch, Aston, and Sorven vacated the chamber, the latter shook her head, "I swear, they're never going to learn."

Hutch snorted, "At this stage, does it matter? We *did* manage to secure the funding upgrade."

Aston chuckled, "Thank heavens for small mercies."

Kephic shot Fyrenn a sideways glance, "I noticed you didn't mention the exact nature of Veritas' escape."

Fyrenn looked in turn to each of his brothers, eyebrow raised, "Neither did you two. I think we would all agree. No one in that room, present company excepted, is going to believe for one instant that Veritas is... Some sort of Wisp-like creature."

Skye smirked, "Yeah. You'd be oh so convincing. Especially if we tell em you woke up out of a coma after being declared brain-dead, and recited four lines of prophecy. And that was *before* you started breathing."

Fyrenn shook his head, "I still wouldn't have believed it happened if you all hadn't shown me the security footage."

Carradan let out a short, sharp bark of laughter, "Buddy, you had me so scared, I swooned. Which ain't an easy feat. I took out a whole battalion of PER you know. Stone cold Bucker."

Hutch glared good naturedly, "I seem to remember you managed to knock *one* soldier on his rump before I had to come save your tail end from the mother of all angry Trolls."

Neyla smirked, "Ah! So the truth outs at last!"

The mood lightened at that, and remained relatively upbeat all the way back to the Bureau.
The group traveled by VTOL, to save time. As the three craft touched down in a cordoned off landing zone at the end of a side-street, Fyrenn thought he detected the sounds of a crowd.

His suspicions were confirmed when the hatches opened to reveal a massive throng of people filling the front steps of the Bureau. Hutch had to shout to make himself heard over the combined roar of the engines, and the crowd, "It's been like this ever since you went under!"

Fyrenn gaped, "Well I hope you brought the keys to the *back* door!"

Sorven shook her head, "You guys need to make an appearance, even if its just walking in, smiling and waving. You're heroes to these people. They need to put faces on this if we're gonna make a lasting impression for good."

Varan grimaced, "I would prefer unarmed combat against five armed foes."
He said it with such deadpan, that Skye had to stifle her muzzle to prevent herself from bursting out laughing.

Kephic jerked his head, "I think we've been had. It looks like the press is arriving."

Aston shrugged, "Sorry guys. Lantry hit us with it at the last minute. Says he's got a big announcement, and wanted us on hand." The group began walking slowly towards the crowd.

Neyla cocked her head, "We're going before some sort of audience?"

Fyrenn nodded, "Nothing major. Just the larger portion of the planet. Why do I suddenly feel more like a trophy than a soldier?"

Carradan laughed, "Oh come on you overgrown chickens, it's just a bunch of cameras."

Skye needled him in the side with a hoof, "Says the guy who probably grew up in front of one."

The Pegasus smirked, "Born and bred sister. You doing anything later?"

Skye chuckled, "If I wasn't before, I sure am now."

Carradan winced, "Ouch. You didn't even give me a chance."

"Talk to the hoof."

Skye's word was the last word, as the crowd had now noticed the approaching party, and gone, as Fyrenn would later describe it 'Hogwild Berzerk.'

Hutch smiled, and gritted out through his teeth, "So *this* is what all those pop stars have to live with every day?"

Aston chuckled and shot back, "And they wonder about the suicide rate...?"

General Lantry was already waiting at an impromptu podium that had been hastily wheeled out to the top of the steps. ConSec guards were hastily clearing the top step, and space a few levels down for the press.

Lantry smiled broadly as the group finally managed to break through the crowd, and join him, forming a large semicircle around the podium, facing the press, and the cheering civilians.

The General waved, and raised his hands for silence. It took several minutes, but the raucous noise finally died down. Fyrenn noted that the cameras were already rolling.

"My fellow New Yorkers... It is a good day to be breathing!"
The statement elicited a flurry of applause.

Kephic looked slightly bemused. Like Fyrenn he hadn't figured Lantry for a public figure. But the General's crusty outer surfaces apparently hid an adept showman.

"Today, I'm here to commemorate the gift these nine people; Three Humans, two Ponies, and four Gryphons... Were so instrumental in giving us. The gift of free will. These nine warriors put aside boundaries of rank, status, background, and even species, to put their lives on the line...
So that we could wake up to another day of peace."

The response was deafening, Fyrenn even caught sight of a camera tech frantically adjusting a volume slider to compensate. He did his best to smile, pouring the joy he felt at simply being alive into his expression, and hoping that it would read well on-camera.

When the commotion finally subsided, Lantry continued, "But ladies and gentlemen, of New York, and of the world, I'm also here today to present you all with a gift on behalf of a friend."

The low murmur sweeping the crowd died down to absolute silence. Fyrenn noticed the same curious expressions gracing his brother's beaks, that were also plastered to Neyla, Skye, and Carradan.

"It is my duty, and distinct privilege, to inform you that a joint team of Equestrian mages, Gryphon Engineers, and Human scientists, under the auspices and patronage of their majesties Celestia and Luna, have succeeded in creating a functional prototype for a Barrier Retardation Device."

Silence reigned. Lantry paused to let the words sink in, "In short; while we can not stop the Bubble, we have found a way to appreciably slow its progress... And in addition the system, once activated, will artificially ensure a short, stable route between the Bubble edge on one side, and the Equestrian Nation on the other, despite the Barrier's growth. It may not seem like much, in the grand scheme of things, but it will give this city *three* more years."

At first, no one moved, or spoke. But then the applause began, first one person, then two, then ten, then fifty. Before long, the assembled crowd was celebrating as if they had been given the greatest gift imaginable.

Fyrenn smiled and shook his head in awe, reflecting that perhaps, in a way, they had.

As the press dispersed, Fyrenn took a moment to stop and speak to General Lantry.
The man smiled at his approach, "Lieutenant Commander! It's good to see you back on your... Paws."

Fyrenn inclined his head, "That was quite an announcement. I wouldn't be surprised if they make this a public holiday before the week is out."

Lantry nodded, "The press for the Bureau, and the Military, has never been better."

Fyrenn smiled, "That's always a good thing I suppose. But I'm not here to deliver congratulations."

"Oh?"

Fyrenn narrowed his eyes, "I respect you sir. Honestly I do. As an officer, a leader, and a man... But let me make one thing imminently clear. If you ever see fit to deceive me, the way you did with Skye, again? I will personally donate my life's savings to your retirement fund. Then I will make you chew and swallow every last credit chit, with a glass of acid to wash it down. And from now on? Anyone in my family is off-limits to you, or anyone else in Military Intelligence for the purposes of your wet work. Find someone else to pretend to be dead."

Fyrenn entered the Bureau to find his friends waiting for him. Skye chuckled, "What was *that* about?"

The red Gryphon smiled and winked, "Just looking after a family matter. All better now. So... What's next?"

Kephic shrugged, "Well, Gilchrist is gone... But I doubt that will stop the PER."

Hutch nodded, "We will get a *much* needed reprieve out of it tho."

Sorven chimed in, "Time we can use to start running down the HLF."

Aston smiled, "You, ma'm, are brass after my own heart. With all due respect."

The General glared at Laura, but beneath the expression lurked the beginnings of a good natured smile.

Neyla shook her head, "There is always Fyrenn's prophecy to consider. Just because no one else will believe us doesn't mean we shouldn't pursue it."

Skye nodded her assent, "Dollars to bits, it's got something to do with those spooky skeleton-thingies you guys told me about."

Varan glowered, "And Veritas."

Fyrenn sighed contentedly, "Well then! I suppose we have our work cut out for us. Where shall we begin?"

Carradan's stomach filled the ensuing silence with a loud, amusingly timed rumble.
The Salmon Pegasus grinned sheepishly, "How about with lunch?"

Fyrenn laughed, "*That* I second."

Neyla smiled, "No argument here."

Varan and Kephic simultaneously nodded.

Skye began jumping up and down, "Oooh ooh! Dibs on the haycakes!"

Carradan smirked, "Only if you beat me to 'em."

Everyone laughed as the group ambled its way back out into the Manhattan afternoon, no particular destination in mind, each fully intent on taking a day to take a breath...

...Then getting right back into the action. Come hell or high water.

Mr. Utah made a point of avoiding the aptly christened 'knee knocker' as he let himself into the darkened room.

His benefactor's eyes were best adjusted to darkness, and on darkness she insisted.

Mr. Utah's theory was that she was simply insecure; the magic-scarce environment of Earth left her at a disadvantage, both tactically, and in Mr. Utah's opinion aesthetically.

She glowered, "Did your agents retrieve it."

Mr. Utah smiled, and withdrew the item from his inside jacket pocket, setting it on the table, and shoving it across to her casually.

It was unassuming; A small one inch, by six inch gray cylinder, inlaid at several junctures with faint circuitry lines.

At first glance, there was no indication that it was the focal point of the HLF operation codenamed "Ragnar." That it was the power of Armageddon in a data chip.

Mr. Utah snapped his fingers, and a hologram pulsed into existence above the chip.
The Benefactor rustled her leaf-like wings, and grinned, an expression that even the Devil himself would have found daunting.

She nosed the displayed model carefully, as if savoring it, "Well done. They suspect nothing?"

Mr. Utah shook his head, "They were too busy with the PER. Our agent walked straight in, removed it, planted the duplicate, and walked out. No one goes into those vaults, except for the maintenance technicians, once a year at best. They won't know it's missing until it hits them..."

The man thumped his fist on the table, "...Literally."

The Benefactor's smile acquired a sickly sweet demure quality, and she intentionally brushed up against Mr. Utah on her way to the door, "Do you have the prisoners?"

"Do you have the substance?"

The Benefactor chuckled, "Naturally. I must admit, many in my hive find it amusing that you value our chitin excretions so highly."

Mr. Utah snorted, "Many in my Cabinet think we're wasting potential hostages letting you suck the joy out of their heads, or whatever it is you do."

Chrysalis smiled, "And that's why it's such a perfect compromise. Nobody is truly happy. See you again... Soon."

The HLF Submarine 'Retribution' steamed its way towards the bubble, ferrying the organization's Equestrian Benefactor, Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings, back to her home.

Back to her army.

Fresh food in hoof.

The remaining heads of the PER's over-cells were mystified. Mere moments after news of the Manhattan attack broke, they had received an urgent microburst transmission from their leader. A single imperative; 'Assemble.'

The PER's central settlement would have occupied beautiful real-estate, had the rainforests surrounding it been a living breathing verdant biome, rather than a stark gray petrified tangle.

But the branches and trunks of the trees still made for excellent camouflage, dead or alive.

As they waited for the man, who they knew by so many names, the fourteen Humans fell to talking amongst themselves about the desolate view out the room's ceiling to floor windows.

Their aesthetic reflections were abruptly interrupted by the entrance of a familiar violet Unicorn.

They all knew of Veritas; She seldom left her beloved's side, which made his absence all the more keenly disturbing.

Perhaps more disturbing, Veritas was flanked by two Diamond Dogs. Their armor, unlike traditional PER garb, was jet black with a violet shoulder bar. Their helmets, disconcertingly, covered their eyes with an opaque plasteel strip.

Veritas marched to the center of the room, "Brethren; We have suffered a great loss. Our leader, Robert Gilchrist, is dead."

A perturbed murmur swept the room like wildfire.

The violet unicorn raised her hoof for silence, "However... This is not an irreparable setback, by any means. Even now, I am taking steps..." She nodded curtly at her guards, who moved to bar the door, "...to ensure the future of the PER."

She tapped the room's lighting controls with a slight nudge of her magical field, and the windows began turning opaque.

The over-cell heads shot confused, and disturbed glances at each other.

The appointed speaker for the group stood, shakily, "No offence... But with him gone... I think we're going to need stronger leadership than you can provide. We don't even know you that well."

Veritas smiled, as the black tendrils began to wend their way from her horn, creeping across the room's central table, splitting into fourteen 'branches' that rose, like long extinct Cobras, to face the terrified over-cell leaders.

When she spoke again, Vertias' voice bore a quality, and timbre, that could only be described as regal, "You will know us better hereafter!"

The Diamond Dog guards watched, impassively and unmoving, as the remaining leaders of the PER writhed.

And screamed.

ACV-10, the UES Yorktown; Named, and numbered, for the famed Essex class carrier of old, the Area Control Vessel was a floating fortress, command center, landing strip, city, and on occasion, neutral meeting ground.

The vessel was close to the point in the Atlantic where it had first served that same function; Acting as a meeting ground for the first official talks between the Royal sisters of the Equestrian Nation, and the Ambassadors of the Earthgov Council.

Over the years, the ship had remained in the same general area, sometimes being called to shelter newfoal transports from the occasional, and ill conceived HLF naval raid. Other times, and more frequently, being used as a stopover for diplomats from Equestria.

The Yorktown had made history before. She was about to do so again.

"Scythe two oh one, Yorktown LSO; spin to go-around, we have incoming foursie traffic."
The term, 'foursie,' had become common pilot speak aboard the carrier for Gryphons and Pegasi, denoting their defining common trait of having four legs.

The pilot, Air Corps colonel Thomas West, snickered to himself as he twisted the stick to the right, gently nudging the rudder pedals at the same time, "Who have we got this time Maggie?"

"Rumor says its the Royal White One herself."

"Nice. We can paint another sun on the island."

The crew had taken to painting emblems on the island, beside the combat decorations, to denote visits from Celestia, Luna, and the Gryphon King.

Several minutes passed, and the LSO's voice returned to West's headset,
"Scythe two oh one, you are cleared for landing. And before you ask; Yeah. It's her."

Thomas grinned, and attached his oxygen mask, as per landing protocol, "Tell Louis to get out my paintbrush."

Maggie's laughter filled the channel, "Alright CAG. Scythe two oh one, cleared for final approach, call the ball."

Aircraft carriers still used the 'antiquated' meatball system of landing mirrors, as an added failsafe against instrumentation failure. Scythes didn't need the system when performing vertical landings, but Celestia's entourage would be gumming up the VTOL landing zone, so West was relegated to a 'good ol fashioned' trap, or arrestor-assisted landing.

The colonel smiled, "Scythe two oh one, ball!"

A few moments later the sleek silver craft roared to a stop, the backwash from its passage ruffling a few strands of Celestia's flowing mane.

The monarch offered a smile, and a nod, to the fighter's pilot.

Human craft, even the deadly ones, were admittedly, works of art.
And the people who flew them were Knights, in their own way.

The designated meeting room on the Yorktown had seen enough service that, over the years, it had been transformed from a spartan gunmetal cube into a carpeted paneled diplomatic lounge worthy of an embassy.

A granite table dominated the center of the room. Two walls were occupied with massive screens, one was relegated to the door, flanked by the Carrier's flag, and naval group emblem, and the final wall was decorated with the crests of Earthgov, the Equestrian Nation, and more recently, the Gryphon Kingdoms.

The room was occupied, on the auspicious occasion in question, by a diverse and somewhat volatile group.

Curled up in one end of the expansive chamber, taking up nearly all the space between the back wall and table, was a fearsome looking green Dragon, accompanied by a small gray Pony stallion, clad in the most peculiar and menacing armor.

At the opposite end of the table, eyeing the gargantuan reptile silently, and warily, was a strapping specimen of the Lupine Diamond Dogs.

Tucked into another corner, as far from the Diamond Dog, and Dragon, as they could get, were a female Zebra, and a large russet colored male Buffalo, adorned with a feathered band upon his brow.

Dancing nervously around the Zebra's legs was a small pastel purple creature best described as a fusion of Changeling and Pony.

As time wore on, and the assembled heads of state began to grow impatient for the arrival of their hosts, the small creature carefully, haltingly, made her way over to the Draconic ambassador, and his son.

Eyeing the Dragon with no small amount of trepidation, she worked up the courage to address the gray Pony, "H... Hi."

He offered her an embarrassed smile, "Hi."

"I'm Mimic!"

"Chip."

Over the next few minutes, the pair hit it off wonderfully, finally working up the gumption to ask their respective adoptive parents if they could be excused to roam the ship.

Ambassador Sharptooth lent his approval, and Mimic's adoptive guardian followed up, "If a chauffer you can locate, you may roam free, but do not return too late."

Shortly after the two unique younglings coerced a Seaman second class into tagging along on their grand adventure, the hosts of the summit finally arrived.

Celestia and Siidran, flanked by two Royal guards, and one well armored Gryphon Knight, took up places at each end of the table. Silently, the other ambassadors acquired seats, perches, or standing positions.

Celestia smiled, "It's good to see you again Sharptooth. You as well Zecora."

The Dragon and Zebra both returned the smile, and inclined their heads.
The Lupine Diamond Dog drove a fist into the table, "I want to know why we were all brought here, on one of your dreadful ships in my case, only to wait for an hour for you to arrive."

Twin glares from the Buffalo chieftain, and King Siidran swiftly silenced the canine.

Celestia raised a hoof, "A valid question."

She swept the room with her gaze, receiving an encouraging half smile from Siidran.

"Ambassadors, Alpha, Chieftain... We are here because of the success of the Gryphonization program. We are here, because exclusivity breeds both contempt, and stagnation. We are here, because Diversity is strength. In short..."

The Monarch of the Sun grinned, "We are here to discuss... Options."

In The Darkness, the void of voids, the space between, the voice of the one-who-would-lead rang out, silvery like the moon, yet as black as the abyss, each word repeating and echoing back on itself, as if spoken within a massive cavern.

"In bonds of family six set out; To seek The Dispossessed,
In joy and sorrow, grief and strife, bearing morbid stress.
Where Sun and Moon the expanse share, the six will find the power,
To put an end to Darkness... Strife... The war of Night's own hour."

Silence reigned in the Darkness, from the reaches of the void, to the spires of the Fortress-within-the-frozen-expanse.

The one-who-would-lead spoke again, "The six, are gathered. Send for those-who-we-command, have them found. Have them Slain."

A rising cacophony, at once fire, and water, darkness, and starlight, rose to answer the call.
The one-who-would-lead bellowed a war cry, "The Night, shall have its reign!"