//------------------------------//
// Chapter 11 
// Story: Hegira: Rising Omega 
// by Guardian_Gryphon 
//------------------------------//

Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
December 9th, Gregorian Calendar

Fyrenn

As dawn's tepid gray light began to fill the eastern rim of the sky, klaxons blared incessantly across the immense voids of the complex, bouncing back in distorted echoes from a myriad of cold duracrete and titanium surfaces.

For nearly an hour, all had been eerily still.  Most of the structures' lights had been dimmed, or deactivated entirely.  Security patrols;  Nervous yet steely-eyed groups of Humans, Gryphons, and Ponies, with the occasional smattering of other species, shuffled quietly around their assigned posts, clad in identical gray suits of shaped-energy-plating.

The fourteen ships were loaded.  Hulking silver curved wedges, nestled in their launching bays, seemingly completely inert.  I knew better.  The incredibly tense process of hot-loading antimatter fuel bottles had finished, to the sound of much applause, and many relieved sighs, an hour previous.

As per Neyla's timetable, that had given everyone a final sixty minute window to re-check spacecraft systems, glance over cryo-tray vital signs, and issue final troop dispersal patterns to the ground teams.

As alarms, and flashing caution lights sprang to life all across the facility, lights began to come on.  First smaller illumibars, followed by immense arc-lights, flashing guidance points, and roving spot lights.

Dawn was instantly transformed into the relative brightness of noon.

The quiet tension of the mission ops center blossomed into organized chaos, as Martins took her place at the central holotank.  Suspended graphical representations and screens alike began to fill with endless processions of data, increasing the illumination in the chamber noticeably.

Martins adjusted her earpiece, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and tapped firmly on her comm activation control.  I could see the signs of her rising blood pressure in her skin and the edge of her eyes.  But the nervousness behind her eyes seemed to be gone, plated over with an armored resolve, born of necessity, skill, and practice.

"All operation controllers, poll your subsystem chiefs.  Go-no-go to commence launch operations."

I blinked, inhaled deeply, and focused my gaze on the console before me, taking only a microsecond to notice that Neyla, and Skye were doing the same at their own stations.  I had decided to listen in on all control comm-loops at once, a feat only an Equestrian brain could cope with.

The deluge of information began to pour in at an incredible pace, with six or seven status reports happening concurrently at all times.  The entire exchange was over in less than twelve seconds.

"Vostok flight control systems;  Go!  Bridge crew is go! "

"Cryo-tray subsystems, Alpha through Echo are green"

"Range officer reports weather patterns consistent with pre-launch predictions.  Range is green."

"Voskhod bridge crew ready.  Voskhod flight control systems nominal."

"UEG orbital control reports final clearance granted.  All air and space traffic cleared along designated safe zone to orbit."

"Mercury controller to actual;  Spacecraft is green.  Bridge crew is ready."

"Cryo-tray subsystems, Foxtrot through Juliet are green.  Kilo through Papa green."

"All engineering controllers report sublight systems, one through fourteen, ready with full thrust available on power-up."

"Fuelling gantries retracted.  Good sep.  No contraindications."

"Gemini bridge crew present, ready.  Gemini spacecraft systems are nominal."

"Apollo crew and systems all green."

"All bridge navigation and helm stations, standby to receive flight data from mission-ops in an encrypted burst."

"Cryo-trays Quebec thru Uniform are green."

"AI and electronic countermeasure diagnostics complete.  No red flags at this time flight."

"Salyut reports master caution light on port side tertiary solar array."

"Salyut main controller, engineering control;  I grant permission to dismiss master caution at this time for non-critical subsystem.  Reset status board and advise."

"Tiangong reports bridge crew ready.  Spacecraft ready."

"Spacecraft ground APUs disconnected.  All craft report internal main power operational.  Antimatter reactors functioning at seven percent across the board.  Secondary fusion reactors at one hundred percent.  All internal power checks are nominal."

"Salyut main controller to flight;  No further status messages from Salyut AI.  Spacecraft reports ready.  Bridge crew ready."

"Mission ops security subsystems report all normal.  Lockdown is in effect across all bulkheads."

"Tactical director; Advise status of ground forces, and tactical subsystems."

I glanced across my status board once more, taking in everything and processing it almost within the same instant.

"Flight, Tac, all ground teams report ready.  Backup assets in standby, and available.  Mission ops facility is secure.  Perimeter airspace secure.  All bridge tactical stations report full starship defensive system readiness.  All anti-air defenses ready.  IFF subsystems and AI report ready."

"Cryo-trays Victor thru Zulu green.  All cryo-tray checks complete.  All lifesigns nominal.  All subsystems nominal."

"Challenger to flight;  All bridge crew present and ready.  All subsystems green."

"Air and water SAR on ready-standby.  Coastal perimeter is clear."

"Satvision thirteen, seven, nine, four, all datalinks established.  Earthgov Central Aerospace defense at Creek Mountain reports all requested SatVision systems are now under mission ops control."

"Challenger reports all bridge crew ready.  All spacecraft subsystems nominal."

"Discovery reports all crew, and systems ready."

"Spacecraft boarding bridges and cargo ramps disconnected, stowed, and clear of backblast."

"Endeavour reports all crew ready.  All systems green."

"Gantry control, flight;  Retract all other secondary moorings and place main support locking clamps in standby-disconnect.  Master arm to standby-ready."

"Atlantis reports all systems nominal. All bridge crew standing by."

"Flight, gantry control, all secondary moorings retracted.  Structural locking clamps in standby-disconnect.  Power-on-self-test for explosive bolts complete.  Master arm is on standby-ready at this time."

"All channels, all channels, break.  Break.  Range is hot at this time.  Master arm in standby-ready.  All bridge crews, begin sublight engine pre-ignition checklist Beta two.  All engineering stations, standby to spin antimatter reactors to full."

"Columbia reports ready; Spacecraft and crew green."

"Soyuz ready.  Crew nominal.  Spacecraft nominal."

"Mir crew ready.  Mir spacecraft functional, and green."

"Flight, this is the overseer AI; All computer systems and AI subsystems report secondary checks complete.  All data is consistent with crewed system checks at this time."

I glanced over my shoulder at Martins.  The Councilor pursed her lips, gripping the edge of the holotank tightly as she spoke.  Her headset was tuned to just the main controller loop.

"All channels, break.  Cut chatter and standby for final poll."

For three seconds, silence reigned once more.  The abrupt change was deeply unsettling.  Martins' voice rang out firmly once again, answered in turn almost immediately by various controllers on the main loop.

"Wave one Operation Genesis launch controllers, polling go-no-go to commence mission operations.  Datacomm."

"Go."

"Spacecraft."

"Go."

"Range."

"Clear."

"Taccom."

I flicked the channel selector on my headset over to the main loop, and delivered my answer in a clipped, steady tone.

"Go."

"Nav."

"Go!"

"FAO."

"Ready."

"FIDO."

"Go flight."

"All stations report go for launch operations.  Overseer AI, start the clock.  Engineering controllers, begin antimatter reactor full-start checklist at this time.  Bridge crews, begin launch checklist Echo four."

"T-Minus eighty.  Seventy-nine.  Seventy-eight.  Clock is running.  All automates and AI subsystems report final diagnostics checks are complete, nominal."

Martins shared a momentary glance, first with Neyla, then with me.

"Maybe we managed to slip under their radar?"

Neyla shook her head firmly.  I snorted, and raised one eyebrow, my left ear flattening reflexively in agitation as I spoke.

"Don't bet on it.  There's no way they missed this kind of build-up.  They're just waiting until the ships are at their most vulnerable post-liftoff, in-atmosphere, low and slow.  This launch will be a running battle."

Skye chimed in from her position near the main sensor telemetry board.

"The mole knows what we're up to.  No way they haven't been aware for days.  They'll be here.  And soon.  No ifs, ands, or buts about it.  Only question is how, and from what direction."

"Flight, engineering subsystems report ready for full reactor start procedures.  All bridge crews report launch checklist Echo four complete, standing by."

Martins nodded, and leaned back over the holotank, enunciating sharply into her earpiece.

"Bridge crews, standby for final launch order and initial navigation vectors."

"T-Minus thirty seconds."

"Open antimatter injectors, ten percent per second, to full."

"Reaction mediation filaments looking good...  No significant change in field data."

"Power output curves nominal.  Looks solid so far."

"Fifty percent mark.  No cautions.  Coolant loop is self-sustaining on all reactors."

"Secondary fusion systems cycling back to fifty percent.  Thirty percent.  Holding at standard operating twenty percent mark."

"Flight, engineering control;  All M/AM reactors at one hundred percent, and stable.  All engineering pre-launch checklists reported complete.  All spacecraft report final readiness checks complete.  The board is clear."

"T-Minus twenty seconds."

"Final release for structural locking clamps set to hot-disconnect, and ready.  Explosive bolt pins charged.  Armed.  Status green."

Martins nodded firmly, and tapped a series of authentications into her control console in rapid succession.

"Master arm switch is now ready-armed.  All stations, master arm switch is ready-armed.  Main flight computer is in control at this time.  All pre-launch holds cleared.  Standby for disconnect, and launch."

"Sublight engine pre-ignition.  Fuel injectors armed.  Impulsive plate shrouds retracted."

"T-Minus Ten.  Nine.  Eight.  Seven."

"Sublight ignition sequence started.  Coolant loops green.  Impulse plates report good charge."

"Six.  Five.  Main sublight engine full-start."

"Navigation controls for all craft to automatic, ascent phase I profile, helm controllers standby for manual flight control in thirty seconds.  Impulse auto-sequencing initiated.  Thruster auto-sequencing initiated, begin ascent phase I."

"Three.  Explosive bolt sequence initiated.  One.  Launch."





With precision and coordination only made possible by AI, and automated fiber optic circuitry, thousands of explosive bolts triggered within precisely the same microsecond.

At the same moment, fourteen pairs of impulse drives began providing precisely enough thrust to push the fourteen immense silver arrowhead hulls skyward.

Thruster quads sputtered and hissed as each ship's navigational AI made miniscule corrections for crosswind, tiny mass shifts caused by cargo and living crew changing position, and even the minutely fluctuating gravity of the Earth itself.

Incredibly slowly at first, but gaining momentum every moment, the fourteen vast hulls rose, defying all viewers' mental expectations of physics.  Each seemed far too vast to be rising so smoothly, without any clouds of spent gases and fire, or the roar of great and terrible explosive chemical reactions.

Instead, the air was filled with a deep bass-level thrum that resonated in bone, and duracrete, and steel sinews alike, as though a turbine generator the size of a city had been switched on beneath everyone's feet.

Within ten seconds, each ship had fully cleared its berth.  Empty cradles of metal, asphalt, and wires left to the bonds of gravity.

In another twenty seconds, the vessels had risen over a hundred feet, and automatic helm control began to cede more and more tasks to the fourteen helm officers, most of whom were Gryphons or Pegasi.

Fourteen silver arrowheads cast fourteen massive shadows across the African plains as dawn fully broke, a moment of sudden radiance dancing across the metallic patterns of the hulls.

The radio waves were alive with telemetry and reports, as frenzied applause briefly erupted in the mission ops center.

"All vectors nominal.  Automatic helm control released.  Ascent phase II vectors issued to all helm stations."

"Flight, engineering control, all twenty eight impulse engines functioning at expected levels."

"Engineering control, Columbia helm, right ventral thruster quad three shows yellow caution on injector assembly four."

"Understood, diagnostic in progress."

"Flight, engineering control, all artificial gravity and inertial compensation mechanisms online, and nominal."

"Engineering control, main diagnostic AI; Columbia right ventral thruster quad three injector assembly four, diagnostic results show under-voltage in fuse eleven-charlie.  Recommend dismiss yellow caution and schedule in-flight replacement.  No further recommendations at this time."

"Flight, all helm stations report vectors starside received and locked in."

"Columbia, engineering control, dismiss master caution yellow on thruster assembly, and standby for maintenance duty log updates on-orbit."

"All bridge crews, this is flight;  Well done, and Godspeed.  Go boldly into the unknown.  Passing you over to tactical actions control at this time."





I tapped the side of my microphone, switching my comm loop over to the fourteen bridge crews' main channel.

"All crews, this is tactical control, go to combat condition beta.  Alert status five;  Secure all stations, and place defense measures in ready-standby."

Neyla's right ear twitched as she leaned in over my control panel.  She murmured softly into my left ear, with a tone that sent chills down my spine.

"If there were ever a key moment of weakness, this would be it."

Nodding slowly, I kept my eyes fixed on the display readouts.

As if in response to prophetic utterance, a ripple passed over the inner perimeter LADAR.  I knew better than to dismiss anything out of claw, and my reaction was instantaneous.  Disaster began to unfold simultaneously to my words.

"Combat alert.  All vessels, contact at two three seven true, elevation four hundred, range one point seven.  Combat alert condition Alpha.  Ground teams, switch armored units tango three, and beta four to anti-air mode.  All other ground teams standby to repel breachers.  Mission ops center, initiate full combat lockdown."

As the mission ops center's light dimmed, and red battle mode lighting snapped on, together with a soft but insistent klaxon, Neyla's eyes widened, and the feathers at the back of her neck stood on end.  I was sure mine were doing the same.

Skye whistled, staring at the familiar shape on the holotank with an expression equal parts dread, and horror.

"You didn't tell me they could *fly!*  You just said they were big scary structures!"

I shook my head, muttering as my talons danced across the control console.

"We didn't know.  It wasn't visually apparent at the time."

Skye slammed one hoof against the deck plating in frustration.

"The BUCK?!"





As the last vestiges of the trajection field dissipated, together with an ear splitting thunder clap, the huge black spike began to move forward, emitting a keening whine from blue and purple propulsion slits nestled into jagged protrusions at its rear.

The Wisp hive-spike was unmistakably a breakaway part of the structure Fyrenn, Neyla and the others had seen, snow covered and immobile, those three years previous.  

It still seemed to have the same terrifying properties.  All light appeared to compress towards the dark black rock-like hull, broken only occasionally by glowing red, blue, and purple runes, or slits that seemed to be full of boiling mica.

The vessel, for a vessel it undoubtedly was, began to accelerate, closing the distance with the cluster of smaller silver shapes it shared the sky with.

A point-blank clash was inevitable.





From her position suspended in the command column, Veritas smirked.  Thousands of images, composited from sensor data filled her mind.  The voices and intentions of every Wisp tied into the Hive-ship's control systems were at her beck and call.

She could see them with her physical eyes as well, all suspended inside receiving alcoves that faced her own command column, skulls adhered to dozens of black snaking tubes that seemed to be made of living tissue, eyes glowing red.

The command chamber itself danced with blue, red, and purple runes suspended in mid-air, as technology and magic intertwined in dark harmony, placing the Wisps' minds in direct synchronization with the starship's every system.

Veritas' mind reached out for information.

"Trace radio signal routing, find the command building, and target them."

Almost immediately, a sour note filled the void.

"The ground command center is silent."

"No radio signals."

"No power emissions."

Veritas began to sift through the data herself to confirm, images, waveforms, colors, moods, and nebulous concepts streaking across her synapses at light-speed.

"Then where---  What do you mean above us?"

An answer at last presented itself as new information rushed across the void of minds.  Veritas' muzzle twisted into a rictus of frustration, and she muttered aloud to herself.

"So. Their Shenzhou is not as crippled as we were led to believe..."

"New target!  Ready the main weapons!"





Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
Twelfth Month, Tenth Day, Celestial Calendar

IJ 

I smacked the flat of my hoof against the door, my impatience practically audible in the resounding thud.  I ensured that I backed the impression up with an unmistakable tone.

There was no moving Stan when he was primping for a public appearance.  A reporter's instincts, it seemed, never died.  There were many things I loved about him, but his affectations around his appearance when being seen in public were not among them.

I was careful to avoid overusing compliments, so as not to inflate his ego.  But internally, I needed no such restraint;  He was a very handsome specimen.  He needed to spend less time fretting over that fact, and more time on productive things.

"Today Stan.  There's discipline, and then there's vanity.  See if you can guess whether or not you've crossed the line."

Just as I was on the verge of lashing out with both wings to make a much louder sound, a familiar and satisfying gesture of Pegasus frustration that I had missed more than I cared to admit, the door swung inwards.

A familiar head poked out, clad in the burnished, untarnished silvery surface of brand new alloy armor, colored in the distinctly unfamiliar white fur and blue mane of his disguise.  

The rest of Stan's body followed in short order.  

I would never admit it aloud, but I had no qualms about internally admitting how dashing the new gear made Stan look;  Especially together with his newly trim figure, and Royal Guard colored coat.  

I violently suppressed a smirk as I imagined how intimidating the two of us would appear side by side.  Warriors clad in warriors' garb, with true warrior bearing that too many in the Guard still lacked.

We would be the envy of all.  And I very much enjoyed that thought.

Stan brushed past me, and rolled his eyes, murmuring to himself with more than enough volume to ensure his words were heard.

"Sheesh.  Can't a guy have ten minutes to make sure he looks nice for the biggest day of his fake career?"

I glowered, and cantered into position alongside him, lashing out playfully with one hoof as I delivered a retort in clipped measure.

"That was more like twenty five minutes.  I thought the Gryphons taught you better than that.  Most of them can be ready in less than one."

Stan raised an eyebrow, and fluffed his right wing, reseating it with a demeanor of faux offense.

"Oh?  Well for whatever reason, the feather-dusters don't seem to smell so bad after exercise.  This magical dye though?  The stuff *stinks.*  I figured you'd complain less about time spent in a solid shower, than a vile stank.  Guess I was wrong.  There's just no pleasin' ya."

With a snort, I fired off a predatory grin, along with a smooth, almost saccharine response.

"Actually...  There is one thing you could do that would make me *very* pleased indeed."

Stan smiled, and leaned in close, both ears perked forward mischievously.

"Oh really?  And what would you have me do your majesty?"

I turned to face forward, and tossed my head, ending in a formal marching pose as I replied with absolute deadpan.

"As the Humans say;  Zip your howling screamer."





Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
December 9th, Gregorian Calendar

Neyla

The chamber doors hissed open, granting Fyrenn and I a view of the sky below and beyond via the Shenzhou's bridge holodome.  The soft murmurs and trills of the mission ops center vanished abruptly as the connecting door whisked closed once more.

Fyrenn locked eyes with Hutch, as the General spun around from his position in the main command nest.  I immediately took charge, projecting my voice to fill the bridge.

"Bring the ship up to combat alert alpha.  Arm all particle lances, load forward torpedo tubes, spin up impulse drives for tactical maneuvers, and deploy the defense armor."

Aston grimaced, fingers flashing over her console as she exchanged a glance with one of the other bridge crew members as she voiced her concerns.

"We launched to put the mission-ops center out of reach of any ground invaders.  We're not equipped to fight!  We barely passed emergency certification checks for basic unpressurized atmospheric flight!"

Shaking my head, I spoke quickly and firmly as I moved to stand beside Hutch in the semicircular horseshoe of command consoles, designed for the ship's captain and flag officers.

"I had the ship's torpedoes loaded, and power conduits patched to allow use of the weapon and defense systems.  No one else was told besides Fyrenn, Skye, and the loading crews."

The ship's decking thrummed momentarily as armor plating, similar to the technology embedded in the Genesists' personal combat armor, materialized over Shenzhou's hull.  

On the viewdome, I could see the same process cladding the hulls of the fourteen colony ships as they accelerated into a series of initial evasive patterns to split potential incoming fire.  

I knew they couldn't divert spare power to anything but point defense, otherwise they would lack sufficient power to boost to orbit, and maintain defensive armor simultaneously.

Powering down from launch, and engaging directly would end the fight sooner, but presented too many other risks.  Those precious minutes represented a great deal of time for the enemy to wreak havoc.

Fyrenn tapped the shoulder of the Unicorn manning the main tactical station, dismissing her, and sliding into the multi-species capable chair as she vacated.

My eyes raced over readouts, and panels as my right claw lashed out and seized control of the helm via the main command terminal, bypassing the empty main helm station entirely.

The agreement had been easy to reach;  It was my plan, so I would be captain and helm if the Shenzhou was called on to fight, with Hutch acting as my XO.

Aston would handle the liaison position between bridge, and mission ops.  Fyrenn would handle all tactical systems, given his cross-training in Naval artillery.

Shenzhou lurched as the impulse engines dug in, firewalling from zero to full military thrust in half a second, forcing the inertial compensators to overcharge to keep up.

Fyrenn began to engage in his own dance of data with the tactical console, assessing his options, and likely enemy strategies before speaking in the typical clipped half-shout of a trained Human officer in a crisis situation.

"Enemy contact at seven five mark negative four five relative.  Two zero zero meters below us, range zero point seven k.  Enemy changing course.  It looks like they've noticed us.  Armor deployed and locked at full capacity."

I nodded, and began to subtly cant the ship to starboard, dipping the nose in the same smooth motion, and relaying my intentions calmly.  The hardest part was over for me, as far as I was concerned.  

Waiting was torture.  Battle was a comfortable, natural state.

"Changing course, eight zero, mark negative four oh relative, flank speed.  Lining up forward torpedo tubes for a frontal assault.  Bring all other weapon systems to bear, continuous fire."

Fyrenn winced as the computer returned a null-lock, and a series of alarms and red icons began to fill both of our panels simultaneously.  I found myself gritting my own beak sympathetically.

"No tone on enemy ship, they're jamming targeting.  Long-range communications as well.  Switching to manual visual control of all weapon systems.  Particle lances and warhead tracking systems switching to CQB best-effort mode."

Through grit beak I tossed a response over my shoulder, talons still dancing madly to juggle helm control, and non-verbal commands to other subsystems.

"Focus ground AA, point defense, and everything we have up here on the enemy contact.  Main torpedo tubes will be aligned in twenty seconds.  You'll only get a short window for visual lock.  Incoming fire."

A deep, bass-filled vibration shook the vessel as blotches of sickly purple energy zipped from glowing protrusions on the Hive ship, to splash across Shenzhou's bow.  Fyrenn quickly assessed the damage as I cast a questioning glance his way, one ear flicking forward in surprise, which carried over into his tone.

"Fore armor is down three percent.  Regenerative cycles are restoring integrity at a rate of five percent per minute.  Their weapons are minimally effective against the ablative generators."

Outside, through the holodome, the brilliant cascades of point defense fire, and shock pulses created a dazzling effect reminiscent of fireworks.  

Hutch shook his head, his voice strained as he gripped the railing of the Captain's station, his knuckles turning white with intensity.

"Assuming this is still the PER we're dealing with, or new friends of theirs, they'll just start targeting the facility.  If they can't stop this launch, they'll prevent the rest just the same."

Fyrenn picked his first targets, barely sparing enough brain power to respond as his talons whipped back and forth from control pad, to screen, to hologram in sequence, assigning visual target locks on the enemy weapon ports by sight alone.

"They won't get the chance."





Streaks of brilliant blue energy, straight as ramrods, and as sharply defined as icicles lanced out from a dozen points on the Shenzhou, converging on three main weapon protrusions at the front of the Hive Ship.

For nearly a second and a half, the beams simply sputtered against a navy and purple colored web of protective energy.  But after another half second, the front of the field began to collapse, allowing the beams to puncture their targets.

Large explosions blossomed forth from the skin of the Hive ship, ejecting several moderate sized chunks of the hull outwards in all directions with such force, that a few even bounced off the armor of the foremost colony ships.

In the command chamber, Veritas scowled fiercely, dividing the energies of her mind between damage control assignments, a swift course change, bolstering the forward shield, and switching attack strategies entirely.

"Your armor will not save you..."

"Boarding parties, standby to traject.  Take their command center, engine section, and torpedo room.  We'll use their own Shenzhou to put a stop to the rest..."

Within the void, Veritas reached out, and brushed the mind of her infiltrator.

"Strike now!  Give us an opening!"





Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
Twelfth Month, Tenth Day, Celestial Calendar

Sildinar

"So.  Anyone had much experience with these before?"

I raised one eyebrow as I gestured with a wing towards the newly opened crate that sat on the strongest part of the roof's tiles.  

A tantalizing scent, equal parts cedar packing chips, leather, polished oak, blackgrit, and lubrication oil wafted gently onto the afternoon breeze.  In the background, the dull thrum of a gathering crowd filtered up from Canterlot's main boulevard below, and beyond.

Kephic hefted one of several menacing, glinting objects from amongst its twins, speaking almost reverently as he checked the action, barrel, blades, and trigger mechanism with practiced and methodical ease.

"A few sessions with the prototypes.  They're considerably louder, and heavier than an arbalest, but it's ten times easier to hit a target ten times farther away, with a thousand times as much force."  

Varan reached into the crate of Thunderblades, removing one for himself, and inspecting the sharpened edge of the largest killing blade.  His right index talon made a menacing rasp as he tested the sharpness, producing a shower of small sparks in the process.  The golden Gryphon's voice was equally sharp, and terrifying, in spite of its relative tranquility.

"I have used them enough to feel competent.  None of us are strangers to Human firearms, after all."

He was right.  I'd been living with no small amount of anticipation for the day that our Converts would begin to bring the advantage of Human martial technologies to the claws of our warriors.  It was fitting to see Fyrenn's work up close, providing us with an edge which we sorely needed.

As I lifted one of the weapons slowly, running my eyes up and down every curve, edge, and point, I spoke in a thoughtful murmur, reflecting that it most likely would not be the last time we'd need such an edge.

"True.  Though I doubt if Humans ever produced firearms that married blunt impact force, sleek blade movement, and chemical rounds quite so elegantly.  If Celestia knew these were here, she would be most distressed."

Kephic chuckled grimly as he flicked open a leather container nestled in one corner of the crate, and began extracting rounds to load.

"Fifty caliber, eight shot, semi-automatic, interchangeable-part, mass-manufactured chemical driven rifles are a serious leap forward from steel bolts on a wooden crossbow, even ones as sophisticated and well crafted as ours.  I can understand why someone so protective of life, and unused to the rigors of war, would see it as macabre, even frightening.  A harbinger."

Varan began his own loading procedure, exhaling softly as he no doubt envisioned the potential consequences of the weapon brought to bear in significant numbers.  I found myself doing the same.  

Harbinger seemed an apt word.  Varan's words landed with similar prophetic weight, and intensity to his brother's.

"If we are successful today, then one war will be averted.  But another is certainly coming...  And after that...?"

Varan punctuated his thoughts by snapping the breech closed, and raising the weapon.  The afternoon sun caught the edge of the primary blade at just the right angle to create a glittering lightshow.

"...Well.  One disaster at a time."

If only it were that easy.





Shining

"Give credit where it's due; The bird-lions know how to make good kit."

I glowered over one shoulder at Stan, my voice conveying the same all-business attitude as my expression, as it echoed through the cool air of the stone antechamber.

"Can it, soldier."

The salmon Pegasus stiffened, and locked his eyes forward, 'on the boat,' the way that both Human and Equestrian soldiers seemed to do when in formation.

IJ visibly resisted the impulse to shake her head wearily, instead holding a similarly disciplined posture silently.  She at least conducted herself with some discipline and decorum.  Apparently she had the good smarts and good graces to have retained much of her guard training.

Together with Stan, myself , and thirteen other Ponies, we made up a dazzling formation around Celestia's royal chariot.

With the four Pegasi pulling the vehicle, that made twenty Ponies, fully armored in the new Gryphon-made designs.  The only thing missing from the group was Celestia herself, and I knew it would be only moments until the monarch arrived.

I  reflected, with an inward grimace, that it was fortunate Mr. Carradan's combat endeavours had always been in the company of Gryphons, or Changelings.  In my estimation, he would never have made it full-time in a traditional Equine squad, constantly being forced to stand on ceremony and protocol.

It just wasn't in his nature.  And I realized with a barely suppressed start that I liked that about him.  Below all the bombast, and amusing attempts at charisma, it made him one of the most transparent, and emotionally honest Ponies I'd ever met.

Probably a better soldier than most I'd served with.

Sometimes simple was best, I decided.  Simplicity often brought with it robustness, and familiarity.  The Guard was complex, and full of emotional pressures.  Stan was simple, and for all his crass mannerisms, apparently quite genuine, and caring.

Celestia's ornamental hoof-guards made a distinctive click-clack against the cobblestone of the vaulted chamber.  I didn't need to look to know she had arrived.

The formation remained at rapt attention as the Solar Monarch took her place on the gilded craft's central cushion.

After a brief moment's pause, to allow Celestia to situate herself, I slammed my right hoof into the ground, following the booming report with an equally ear-splitting command.

"FORMATION; FORWARD!"





Carradan

I wriggled, and writhed, as best I could.  The bonds around my wings weren't especially strong, but whatever liquid substance I was suspended in was dulling my mind, senses, and muscles.  That much I'd figured out pretty quick.

Dimly at first, then with growing clarity, I was aware of voices, and images.  A ghostly second reality, projected over my mostly green view of the world.  Eugh.

It took me several more seconds to realize just what the hay I was seeing.  My memory of the past few minutes returned at almost the same moment, leading to a momentary jolt, and a corresponding second of mental perspicacity.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!!!"

The reflexive scream, more frustration, and panic, than actual fear, was muffled by the suspension fluid.  I realized, somewhere in the back of my mind, that he could breathe in spite of the liquid.  Well that was a spot of good news.  A very small spot.

The forefront of my thoughts, however, was completely occupied with the terrifying realization that I had been replaced.  It was the only explanation that made any sense.  Just like the damn pod people movies.

My last conscious memory was of the Unicorn I'd beaten only minutes before.  My opponent hadn't even given me time to become suspicious, striking with such ferocity that I was barely cognizant of hitting the floor after the first blow.  Quick little bucker.

My last memory was a blurry picture of the Unicorn shedding his disguise, melting back into familiar black chitinous lines.

What had truly focused my mind was my present.  It was as if I could see through two pairs of eyes at once.  The second set of senses, I realized in horror, were that of the Changeling.

"You *are* a tough one.  I gave you enough to knock most Pegasi out for a solid hour.  No matter."

I growled, and jerked to the side, causing the pod encasing me to swing ever so slightly.  I could just barely make out the room beyond;  The same chamber I'd been using to gear up, though my perspective was upside down.

The pod was suspended from a rafter.  I realized that I was upside down within it.

"The more you struggle, the faster you'll absorb the suspension.  Try to escape, and you won't stay conscious for long."

I snorted again, my voice burbling as if I was speaking underwater.

"BUCK you!  What *is* this?!  Are you inside my head or somethin'?  Get th' BUCK out!"

A booming chuckle seemed to echo from everywhere, and nowhere all at once, even as the sound of Shining's voice issuing formation commands also reached my mind, via the Changeling's ears.

"Yes, and no.  I'm not inside your thoughts, but I am able to 'read' your personality.  And some of your memories, and most of your senses.  Your traitorous little friend hasn't the faintest idea...  I do a very good impression of you, thanks to...  Well...  You."

I grit my teeth, and tried to slow my breathing, shivering reflexively as the suspension fluid began to hit my system once more.  Potent shit.  Better than any scotch I'd ever had.

My voice slowed, along with my thoughts, and my eyelids began to droop.

"I am...  gonna...  kill...  you..."

"Even if you could, you certainly wouldn't manage to do it before I kill your precious Princess, her array of idiots...   And your dear little traitor, who imagines herself a queen."

My eyes snapped back open.  The words were like a red-hot brand against my chest.

"Don't bet on it."





Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
December 9th, Gregorian Calendar

Fyrenn

"What *is* that?"

Aston stood from behind her station, squinting as bright flashes overwhelmed the viewdome's gamma correction thresholds, causing white flashes across the entire panel.

I shook my head, verifying that my displays were giving accurate information before conveying the findings aloud.

"Whatever they're firing, it isn't doing any damage.  It's almost like it's conducting through the armor..."

Further speculation was cut short, violently.  Coinciding with the last of the lighting-shaped blasts, a thunderous shock filled the bridge.  Aston, Hutch, and the few other crew on-station shielded their ears and eyes reflexively.

Neyla and I saw the unmistakable forms materializing microseconds before they were fully-formed, and sprang into combat positions, ducking and spinning to avoid shards of plexiglass from shattered consoles and illumination bars.

The enemy presence filled the center of the bridge.  Two hulking Diamond Dog Trolls, and two Wisps, scorpion tails raised and ready.

The intruders were clad, one and all, head to tail, in jet black combat armor that reflected no light whatsoever, and covered every inch of skin, fur, or bone.

Neyla made it into a firing position first, cross-drawing her particle pistol, and placing a shot dead center into the first Diamond Dog's helmet.  The blast peeled back several layers of the armor, but failed to fully penetrate, instead forcing the attacker to stumble backwards in shock.

Hutch seized on the opportunity, pulling his full sized carbine from its perch beside the Captain's central console, and blasting the same spot on the aggressor's helmet.  

The bolt from the much larger rifle overmatched what little armor remained after Neyla's shot, piercing through the Diamond Dog's skull, and continuing out the back of the helmet to strike the side of the first Wisp, leaving a large divot in its chestplate.

The second Wisp had used the time to target Hutch, flicking back retractable plates around its tail-barb, and lashing out.  The bony blade at the tip slammed into Hutch's right shoulder-plate, partially penetrating, but failing to draw blood.

Hutch's eyes widened in shock, both physical and emotional, as he found himself face to face with the nightmarish creature.  The bone-barb was serrated, catching deep in the metal, and the armor's regenerative matrix closed over the gash in a dull flash of teal energy, thus leaving the Wisp's tail trapped.

Aston was closest, and I knew she only had a second and a half, two at most, to save Hutch's life.  Neither I, nor Neyla would have the opportunity.  The first Wisp, and the second Diamond Dog were blocking both of our possible attack vectors.

I spared a ten thousandth of a second to fire off a prayer of thanks; The Wisp was engaging Neyla, leaving me to the Diamond Dog.  Her greater speed, and experience were better suited to achieving some semblance of parity with the Wisp, while my slightly greater strength and bulk were better matched to the Troll.

Everything seemed to explode into motion at once.  Aston made a dive over the top of her console, laying down a constant stream of particle pulses in the direction of the second Wisp, barely missing Hutch himself in the process.

The second Wisp pulled backwards reflexively, unintentionally jerking Hutch towards it, and into Aston's line of fire.  Two bolts splashed off the back of Hutch's armor, doing little damage, before Aston ceased fire, dropping into a power slide across the deck.

At the same time, Neyla unsheathed one of her swords, dual wielding with her pistol in a fearsome combat stance I had never seen her use before.

For my own part, I pulled my sword from its scabbard, firing my particle pistol in overcharge mode directly into my opponent's helmet, before tossing the spent weapon aside, and shifting to a two-claw handhold over the bladed weapon.

Aston activated her armor's pulse jets at the last moment, slamming elbow-first into the side of the Wisp's skull, and maintaining thrust until she had driven it into the side of a console upright at nearly two hundred kilometers an hour.

The motion jerked Hutch forward once more, dragging him along behind the Wisp as he fought to free a combat knife from his right leg sheath.

Neyla ducked an initial swipe from her opponent's barbed tail, scoring a quick glancing blow on its side with her sword, before firing several shots from her pistol.  In dodging the deadly particle streams, the Wisp was forced to open several lines of attack for Neyla's sword, but it gained an opportunity to strike at one of the least protected parts of Neyla's side.

The glancing blow drew blood, digging into her side nearly an inch before she spun away, and found a moment to deploy the rest of her armor.  The tiny decrease in agility was a small price to pay for much greater protection.

I barely had time to deploy the rest of my own armor before my opponent hit me with a full body slam, exploiting the relatively small confines of the bridge to prevent me from using my wings properly.

Dropping to one knee from a bipedal stance, I fired my right side thruster simultaneously to help root me in place.  The dull pain of a severe shock bruise blossomed across my right shoulder as the Troll's charge overwhelmed the armor's anti-kinetic layers, allowing the last of the energy to seep through.

As Aston began firing into the second Wisp's side point-blank, the creature lashed out with its front right hoof, leaving a tremendous gouge in Aston's right gauntlet, and a tiny trickle of blood.

Hutch finally managed to get his knife loose, and began wailing on the Wisp's damaged helmet, finally succeeding in pinning its skull to the side of the console upright by driving the K-bar right through the empty left eye socket, making use of the hole Aston's elbow had punched in the faceplate.

Neyla deflected a tail attack with her sword, using the opportunity to squeeze off an overcharged hit with her pistol that severed the Wisp's back left leg from its body.  The moment the weapon was depleted, Neyla threw it, letting out an intense keening call of anger from the exertion.  The pistol buried itself up to the butt in the Wisp's side armor, fracturing the mineral plating deeply.

As the din of combat filled the bridge, my focus intensified, allowing me a moment to analyze my own opponent more fully.  

The Troll was a massive female, and she was just as angry, and desperate as I was, similarly armored, and making very good use of merely her own fisted paws for weapons.

I lacked the space I would have needed to make maximum use of my agility, severely crippling several of my most key biological advantages.  I knew my main weapons would have to be technological, and mental.  I could think infinitely faster than her, and my armor sported more useful modifications.

Allowing the Troll to get in a solid strike on my helmet, which put a sharp ragged dent in the outer armor layer, and set my head ringing, I primed my strike.  The motion of her attack had left the Troll unable to retreat, or block, so I rammed my sword deep into her chest, firing my suit thrusters to force the weapon in deeper than my own strength alone could have ever managed.

The Troll screamed in pain, and I took the opportunity to fire the thrusters again, pushing the enemy off-balance.  A third, and much larger pulse from the thrusters forced both of us across the bridge, the Troll skidding wildly, while I flared my wings to maintain a controlled stance.

The motion drove the Troll directly onto the raised tip of the first Wisp's tail, rooting it firmly between the Diamond Dog's shoulder blades, even as she clawed frantically by turn at my sword, and face, drawing rivulets of blood from my right cheek.  

Neyla took the proffered opening, spinning to face Aston and Hutch's opponent, severing its tail in one smooth stroke, allowing Hutch total freedom of movement once more.

Hutch drew his own pistol at about the same time, delivering an overcharged shot to the Wisp's head that vaporized its unprotected skull entirely, not even leaving a trace of the energy being itself.  A tiny part of my brain reasoned that it must have been overwhelmed by the energy field, unable to escape in time.  That was, I decided, potentially quite useful information.

At the same moment, Aston spun, depleting her own carbine with a full overcharged shot to the tangled mass of Wisp and Troll that I had served up, vaporizing both of their heads simultaneously, and reducing a console on the far wall to a fine silicon mist with the backwash.

The entire exchange of motion, energy, and blood had only lasted thirteen seconds.

A moment of stillness ensued, filled only by the soft trill of alarms from every console, the hiss of sparks from damaged equipment, and the throaty sounds of panting from all quarters.

I finally managed to stop the ringing in my head, and dashed across to my station.  

I delivered my report, while Aston began helping Hutch to his feet, and Neyla took stock of the Captain's display board.

"Intruder alarms have tripped here, in the forward torpedo room, and the main engineering section.  None in ops, thankfully, but we've lost weapon control.  Someone put the torpedoes and particle beams both into full lockdown with a command-level encryption.  The only other good news is that our first volley definitely crippled the enemy weapon system, they haven't been able to fire since."

Neyla nodded, and spoke as she began making her way to the mission Ops Center doors, wincing as the ship shuddered from the impact of something happening further below deck.

"Ground teams report hundreds of intruders in the facility.  The colony ships are above us, five hundred meters and climbing."

The doors to the Ops Center hissed open, revealing a scene of total chaos.  Martins was crouched behind Alyra, who stood shoulder to shoulder with Skye, both pointing particle pistols at the door.

Consoles hung from the ceiling by their wires, the holotank was smashed, and doors to the connecting corridor had clearly been forced from the inside.

As Alyra and Skye holstered their pistols, faces awash with relief, I turned to take in the scene, eyes widening, voice filled with shock.

"What happened here?"