GMT: 14:31:32
PDT: 07:31:32
Ragnar: +01:31:32
Sheirel quickly realized that the Bureau's armory had been atomized just as thoroughly as every other part of the building.
Her twin dirks were safely sequestered in sheaths on the inner surfaces of her wing armor. Her RAC rifle, however, had been discarded in her attempt to save the colt, and subsequently shredded against the pavement by the blast wave.
The Gryphoness knew she would have need of a ranged weapon at minimum, possibly even explosives, to carry out her planned assault. She cast about furtively, contemplating her options as quickly as she could. She knew that every second wasted meant more lives would be lost.
As she swept the horizon with her keen golden eyes, she settled her gaze on a small gray shape winding its way down a small access road towards the city.
Focusing in on it, Shierel spied a distinctive crimson JRSF stripe. The vehicle looked to be a personnel carrier. Long, hard edged, and mounted on eight heavy-duty dual-tire wheels.
Shierel flexed her wings, cautiously at first, to ensure that there were no fractured bones nor strained muscles.
When her body did not protest, she beat down hard with both wings and rose above the smoke as fast as she could.
The vehicle was nearly two miles away, but crossing the distance took Shierel a mere twenty seconds at her most strenuous breakneck pace. Gravity, combined with sharp, shallow beats from tucked wings, to avoid drag, allowed her to force her body to reach speeds normally reserved for small propeller aircraft.
She swooped in low over the road, and cut a wide circle to come at the APC from behind. As she completed the one hundred eighty degree turn, she got her first big-picture look at the devastation the city had suffered.
Aside from the Bureau, nearly a dozen other sites had been reducing to burned out craters. Tertiary effects from castoff debris, and secondary capacitor explosions, had left a spiderweb of slightly less cataclysmic damage radiating out several blocks from each epicenter.
The sky was thickly laden with a haze of smoke, fed by the out of control blazes present at several of the targets.
The Gryphoness was already well past her usual emotional limits. The sight did little more than feed the ice cold flames of her fury. She was not so much out of control, as past the point of words like 'control,' or 'anger,' having any contextual meaning at all.
Shierel braced out her forelegs, and lit on the roof of the APC gracefully, smoothly allowing her momentum to synchronize with that of the vehicle.
The moment was shattered an instant later as the driver realized something had attached itself to his roof. He slammed on the brakes so hard, that Shierel's claws dug reflexively into the metal of the pilot hatch's handrails.
Her grip was so firm, it left a series of claw-shaped dents in the relatively soft aluminum. The APC skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust, tires squealing against the pavement in protest.
A moment later, the hatch flung wide, and a young soldier's head and arms were disgorged. The man looked as if he had been severely startled, and he was clutching his sidearm firmly in both hands, barrel leveled, and safety off.
Shierel calmly reached forward and snatched the weapon out of his hands before the neurons behind his eyes could even finish firing. Without looking down, she placed the safety back on, ejected the weapon's clip, and cycled the chambered round back out through the intake port.
She quietly handed the weapon, clip, and lone shell back to the man, noting the rank bars on his shoulders as she did so.
"Lieutenant. I need your rifle, your grenades, and anything else in your vehicle that might be useful as a weapon, or an explosive."
The man stammered for a moment before gingerly doing his best to thread the spare shell back into the clip.
"Ahh... Uh... I'm sorry about that... I wasn't expecting---"
Shierel shook her head slowly, "That's quite alright. Please Lieutenant. Time is of the essence."
The man finished threading the shell, and slammed the clip back into the weapon with practiced efficiency, before holstering it at his side.
"Right, right..." He scrambled out of the hatch, and took the driver-side access ladder two rungs at a time until he was within jumping distance of the pavement.
As the lieutenant strode purposefully to the rear of the APC, Shierel bounded over the rear length of the vehicle, arcing effortlessly over the small rear gun turret to land on the pavement beside him.
He winced slightly in surprise as he reached for the rear door control. While the hydraulics did their work, shifting the thick combination ramp and door into its open position, the young man dragged one hand through his hair nervously.
Shierel judged him to be no older than his mid twenties, making him not much younger than her if one accounted for the difference in average lifespan, but still slightly young for Human military field service, based on her experience.
As the ramp finally hit the pavement, he turned to size her up.
"So... If you don't mind my asking; what do you need all of this for?"
The Gryphoness squeezed into the vehicle's rear compartment, and took stock of the supplies within. She began pulling items off the service rack as she spoke.
"Incase you failed to notice, there is an artillery piece shelling the city."
The Lieutenant stood in the hatchway, straining to get a better view of the equipment Shierel had chosen.
"And...?"
She glanced over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised, as she flicked the 'TEST' switch on a handheld remote detonator, eliciting a small electronic whine, and a flashing green light.
"And what?"
The Lieutenant let out a sound somewhere between an incredulous barking laugh, and a shocked cough.
"And the battle net is down, no one seems to know what the hell is going on, I was told to get down to the naval base, because that's all that's left... Hell, I'm just a carrier driver... And you are planning to find, assault, and destroy the enemy position... Alone?"
Shierel finished loading a smattering of grenades, two blocks of explosives, and a remote detonator into storage slots on her armor. She turned to the wall and pulled a RAC-8 from its place, leaving the scope and tripod behind.
As she rammed a clip home, and cycled the capacitor, she glanced up.
"Correction. I have found the enemy position already."
As the Gryphoness forced her was out of the APC once more, the Lieutenant stood stock still, rooted to the concrete in shock.
Only when Shierel stretched out both wings and prepared to take flight again, did he find his voice.
"Wait."
Shierel glanced over her shoulder, eyes narrowing, "There isn't time. I must stop the assault, before anyone else dies."
The Lieutenant shook his head, "*We* must stop the assault before anyone else dies."
The Gryphoness sighed and shook her head, "There are enough dead soldiers out there already. The last thing anyone needs is for you to join them."
The man took a step forward and stared furtively up into Shierel's eyes, "Yeah; And there are enough dead people out there period. The last thing this city needs is for *you* to join them because you were too stubborn and feather-brained to take backup when it was offered."
For a long moment, the pair stood staring each other down. The Lieutenant was clearly concerned for his safety, but to his credit, he refused to break from the protracted staring contest.
Shierel was not aware of many Humans with that much courage. She sighed.
Without further ado, nor warning, she grabbed the Lieutenant by his left arm and shoulder, and swung him up onto the roof of the APC once more. To his credit, he didn't flinch.
As the lieutenant made his way back into the hatch, the Gryphoness fixed him with a curious glance.
"What's your name lieutenant?"
He smiled weakly, blanching as he furtively glanced down at the city below.
"McBride ma'am. Lieutenant McBride."
Shierel sighed, and returned the smile half-heartedly.
"Welcome to special operations, Lieutenant McBride. You picked a wonderful day to cast your lot in. And don't call me ma'am."
"Yes ma'am."
GMT: 14:32:17
PDT: 07:32:17
Ragnar: +01:32:17
"This is your plan? This is insanity!"
Stan delivered the words more as a hiss than anything else. The nearest enemy Augment was over fifty yards away, but the Pegasus felt an impetus to stealth nonetheless.
Celestia shook her head slowly, interjecting quietly, but sharply.
"I agree. Asking Lantry to stay behind was wise. Realizing that the roof is a death-trap was canny. But attempting to brave this gauntlet on hoof? That would be suicidal."
Fyrenn suppressed a dark chuckle as he peered around the edge of the door frame. The Princess had sized up the situation with remarkable understatement.
From the group's vantage at the complex's primary bank of exits, they could spot well over a dozen Augments, of various types, to say nothing of the squads of foot soldiers assigned to each one.
Fyrenn spoke calmly as he observed the location of each enemy squad, committing it to memory in the process.
"That's why we're not going to brave the gauntlet by hoof, foot, or paw."
He paused, and carefully pulled back behind the concealment of a structural pillar.
"We're going by vehicle."
There was a long and confused silence, during which all eyes fixated on Fyrenn, as if willing him to explain further. He obliged.
"The main vehicle bay is right beneath us. For now, we split up. Two of us are going to go commandeer transport, the rest are going to stay here. We'll use the vehicle as distraction, assault platform, and mobile cover to escape from the killbox."
Fyrenn turned to Carradan, and offered him a small smirk, "Hutch told me about what happened the last time you got behind the wheel. No offense, but I'm looking for someone who can reach the pedals unassisted."
Stan chortled quietly, and shook his head, his tone conveying nothing but amused relief.
"Hey, no offense taken feathers. When it comes to making suicidal bum-rushes in a jeep? Better *anyone* than me. I've had enough vehicular manslaughter for one lifetime, thank-you-very-much."
The red Gryphon shifted his gaze a meter to the left, fixing his eyes firmly on Neyla's.
"I need you for this to work. You're the only other one here with any actual vehicular qualifications to speak of. Whatever... Issues there are between us, right now, I need them to be non-issues until we're out of this safely."
The silence would have been painfully acute, were it not for the background din of continued firefights raging around the city. Neyla returned Fyrenn's gaze with unwavering resolve, and an icy edge bordering on the murderous.
"Fine. But that means you owe me a real discussion about those issues. Soon."
Fyrenn winced and nodded slowly, "Deal."
Neyla mimicked the gesture, but with a great deal more firmness.
"Good. And mind you; No backseat driving."
GMT: 14:33:06
Ragnar: +01:33:06
The rods completed their first orbit of the Earth in the absolute silence of hard vacuum. As the pair of train-sized objects swung around to the day side of the planet once more, the sun produced a dull, menacing glint on the unburnished carbon scored tungsten.
The weapons were destined to complete two more orbits before their trajectory brought them suborbital, but since their speed had increased by multiple orders of magnitude thanks to gravity, and would continue increasing still, each consecutive orbit would be much swifter.
By the time they were ready to enter the atmosphere, not even the dense air of the lower Troposphere would be able to arrest their momentum in any measurable sense.
It would simply convert to pure plasma.
GMT: 14:36:23
EST: 10:36:23
Ragnar: +01:36:23
"You're too old for this, and you know it!"
Klarien smirked as he took an aggressive nip at Taranis' right flank. The maneuver succeeded in placing a fairly deep gash in the scales of his rear leg.
The cobalt Dragon grunted, and staggered back a pace. The sound in his gut continued. At first, judging the sound to be borne of pain, Klarien decided he had the initiative. His grin widened, and he began to circle slowly, chuckling as he spread his wings.
"You thought becoming this... Abomination would give you a second chance? Your age betrays you as surely as if you were hobbling to and fro on a crutch."
Taranis kept his head low. The sound which had, at first, seemed like a pained groan, began to magnify in volume steadily. Klarien realized, with a start, that it was actually a throaty chuckle.
"You think you have this all figured out. Don't you?" Taranis raised his head, bringing Klarien up short. The younger Dragon's snout turned down in a sneer.
"There's nothing to figure out old man. Humanity wins. The Equestrian filth, and all you ilk who support them, lose."
Taranis grinned. The expression was so sure, so confident, that it brought Klarien to stop.
"You know I'm old. But do you have any idea how much of that time I spent as a soldier?"
Taranis began to circle, forcing Klarien to continue the slow and deadly dance at the older Dragon's pace.
"I spent a good twenty years of my life as a marine. Where did *you* train whelp? Behind a barn in Montana? Who trained you? A dumb hick who thought a shotgun, an anti-Equestrian shirt with a matching red baseball cap, and a beer bottle made him invincible? I was snapping real men's necks, trained armed adversaries, by the dozen while you were still in primary school."
Taranis loosed an immense blast from his jaws without warning, nor prelude. As the millions of volts coursed mercilessly through the Green Dragon's body, Taranis lunged across the intervening space, once again putting his weight and powerful rear legs to work.
The collision carried the pair up and out, embedding them momentarily in the concrete outer wall of the fort. Klarien desperately tried to claw his way free, finally succeeding in burying part of his right claw in the joint of Taranis' left wing.
The moment Klarien pulled his right forelimb free, Taranis clamped his jaws down on the claw, ripping two of the digits entirely off as he allowed gravity to pull his body free of the grim embrace.
Klarien let loose the Draconic equivalent of a pained, enraged scream. Glass rained down from above as several window panes shattered under the sonic stress.
Taranis limped backwards across the courtyard, swiftly taking stock of his bloody wing. The injury was painful, even severe. But not necessarily permanent. Unfortunately, he soon realized it would probably prevent him from exerting much, if any force through the limb.
He glanced at the green heap Klarien had collapsed into, and shook his head slowly. As the younger Dragon staggered back to a standing position, Taranis once again decided to take advantage of his opponent's lack of control.
"The difference between you and me isn't so much about age young one, as discipline. You think you are powerful to serve your cause? I will make you watch as your cause collapses around your ears."
Klarien hissed, expelling a large plume of poisonous gas reflexively. Taranis chuckled as he continued.
"Your worst mistake was making me almost come to like you. Neither the Human part of me, nor the ancient lizard, much like betrayal. So I promise you..."
The cobalt Dragon lunged forward once more, pausing only to deliver a soft whisper into Klarien's ear as they connected, "I'll make sure that this is *exquisitely* painful."
GMT: 14:36:30
PDT: 07:36:30
Ragnar: +01:36:030
"Uhoh."
Kephic barely had time to finish the word as he raised his rifle, and pulled the trigger. The lone shot flew straight and true, puncturing the weakest part of the enemy's helmet and dropping him where he stood.
The speckled Gryphon shrugged, as Varan and the remainder of the group looked on in confusion and horror.
"Judging by what he was holding, and his expression? He pegged us on thermal. Everyone dig in. They sure know we're here now."
Skye rolled her eyes, "One time. Just *one* time, I'd like everything to go exactly as planned---"
The remainder of her rant was snatched away by the din of incoming fire. The Unicorn dove for concealment behind the lobby's reception desk, rolling into position to find Carradan waiting there for her with a wry grin.
"Hey there. Long time no see. How have ya been?"
She grit her teeth and sighed, "Definitely not the time for levity."
Kephic and Varan began to lay down fire as aggressively as they could backing towards cover in the process. The Princess, for her part, swiftly re-conjured her micro shields and began a swift backwards walk to relative safety.
Varan raised his voice as he indiscriminately disgorged canisters from his grenade launcher, "We ca not hold here for long."
Kephic snorted, "No *really?!* I hadn't noticed! I certainly hope they aren't dawdling down there..."
Celestia winced as a small piece of concrete shrapnel bypassed her shields and nicked her cheek.
"Should we not consider falling back?" Her tone remained surprisingly even.
Kephic shook his head, "Not unless we're forced to. We can't let Fyrenn and Neyla charge out into the open without support like that."
Varan nodded, "We must give them at least two minutes."
Skye peeked up over the edge of the reception desk, and paused long enough to fire off a bolt of neuro-disruptive magic in the general direction of the nearest soldier.
"I sure hope we *have* two minutes..."
GMT: 14:37:02
CDT: 09:37:02
Ragnar: +01:37:02
"Sir? That makes the second visual confirmation. White Queen is still within the specified perimeter."
The technician clutched both hands behind his back nervously as he delivered the report.
Mr. Stalin leaned in closer over the holotank, and nodded slowly. He absently stroked at his chin with one hand as he collected his thoughts. The room thrummed with the dull roar of men and women furtively speaking to each other, and into headsets. Telemetry raced across the wall screens at breakneck pace.
"Close the net. We can't afford to leave anything to chance. Thor is already inbound. Call off all other mobile units from their tasks, and throw everything at that building."
The technician nodded, and held his headset tight against both ears, "Central: New directive for all fire team controllers. Disengage current tasking and re-route units to rally points echo three, five, and eight. New tasking; Search and contain enemy forces. Engage to destroy."
GMT: 14:37:08
PDT: 07:37:08
Ragnar: +01:37:08
Fyrenn had never put so much effort into stealth before in his life. Twice he had been sure one of the Augments had spotted a stray feather, or caught wind of the most infinitesimal sounds his claws made against the carpeting of the upper corridors.
Fortunately for the two Gryphons, they had gone completely undetected. The pair had taken to an all out sprint once they reached the utility access corridor.
Fyrenn pulled up sharply as he reached the entrance door to the vehicle bay. Neyla skidded to a stop a half second later, glaring.
The red Gryphon smirked, "Need a moment?"
Neyla's glare metamorphosed into a furious glower, "Not fair. You've been spending more time with Brelik in the ring."
Fyrenn shrugged, "When I can find the time, sure. I think you just resent the fact that I have slightly better leg muscles."
The blue and tan Gryphoness snorted derisively, her ears pinned back reflexively as she responded.
"What is your Human phrase for moments like this... 'As if.' "
Fyrenn rolled his eyes, and brought his RAC up to ready position, taking a firm stand on his hind legs.
Neyla did the same, and moved to the right side of the door.
Without further prelude, Fyrenn slammed one back leg into the portal, unhinging the flimsy tin sheet and sending it rocketing into the space beyond. The two gryphons pivoted through the entryway, one after the other, in close proximity. Their precautionary measures were unnecessary.
The vast concrete space was completely devoid of life. Fyrenn nodded, a strong note of relief creeping into his voice as he surveyed the chamber.
"Good. They haven't gotten around to torching the place yet. Probably means they're busy executing half the dignitaries upstairs."
Neyla shook her head, "Aren't you just a ray of optimism."
"That's your department. I deal in harsh realities."
Neyla snorted.
"Cynic."
Fyrenn nodded, "And proud of it."
The Gryphoness sighed as she examined the space before them. The room was laid out as a low slung polygonal cross-section. The walls sloped outwards from the floor, to the ceiling. Dull blue-gray lighting glinted off the fenders of vehicles, tucked into row upon row of recessed bays.
Neyla began to shake her head slowly once more, speaking with a mixture of concern and resignation.
"These are almost all fast transports, open jeeps, and utility trucks. None of them are going to withstand more than thirty or forty rounds of railgun bombardment. Let alone a rocket propelled munition."
Fyrenn slowly swept his eyes up and down the stored vehicles, before fixating on one bay in particular. He took a halting step, paused, and gestured towards the front end of an armored cowl peeking out around a support column.
"How about that?"
Neyla raised an eyebrow, her flat incredulous tone matching her expression perfectly.
"You're kidding."
She glanced at the front end of the vehicle, then back at the red Gryphon. Her face rapidly went from sarcastic amusement to concerned cynicism. Her ears flattened, her eyes hardened, and the edge of her beak turned down.
"You're not kidding."
Fyrenn shrugged, "It's armored enough."
"Yes... And it's also probably too slow."
The blue and tan Gryphoness began shaking her head slowly.
Fyrenn chuckled, "Built for urban pacification and CQB armored spec-ops. That thing will do one hundred and ten KPH over level ground. Better still, it will have room for everyone in the back. Tight squeeze notwithstanding."
He mimicked Neyla's earlier gesture, raising an eyebrow. She took a halting step towards the vehicle, but stopped short.
"We'd still have to get it out of the garage. I don't think---"
Fyrenn cut her off with a wave of one claw, "Oh come on," He strode over to the recessed bay, and clambered over the top of the dull gray monstrosity in question, "Six pedals, four directions. How hard can it possibly be?"
Neyla snorted, "Knowing the way Humans build control systems? Hard enough."
The red Gryphon smirked triumphantly, "Are you saying you can't drive?"
"Oh shut your beak. I've probably got more hours of current vehicle qualifications than you, and you know it."
She paused, and rapped one fisted claw against the front glacis plate, "Can you even operate the fire control system on one of these?"
Fyrenn's smile changed slowly from an amused leer, to a predatory grimace, "I cross-trained for two years on the Indianapolis in Naval surface warfare. With a focus on ranged surface-artillery fire control."
Neyla raised an eyebrow once more, and cocked her head, "How much potential crossover does that have with these systems?"
Fyrenn's smile widened, as he stared down at the vehicle's main weapon.
The tone of his voice was terrifyingly deadpan.
"More than enough."
"Is it just me, or are there more of them all of the sudden?!"
Even as the words left his muzzle, Carradan was forced to pull his head back down. A withering hail of RAC rounds filled the air above his head with a sound akin to angry hornets.
Kephic growled, and emptied the last rounds in his fifth clip with lethal precision.
"There are definitely more of them."
Varan dove across the intervening space between two cover points, loosing three grenades in the process.
"It seems we have attracted attention. Of the worst kind. We should fall back."
Celestia's eyes widened as she was forced to fall back once more by concentrated sniper fire. The rounds that missed cut a series of furrows into the walls and floor at the opposite end of the room.
"You have an astonishing gift for understatement!"
The Alicorn's tone was mostly given over to incredulity, but Kephic thought he detected a more disturbing undercurrent of fear. He hissed, and dodged to the left, ejecting the spent clip from his weapon and substituting a fresh one, all in the same smooth motion.
He selected his new targets, and began discharging rounds with abandon, shouting to make himself heard over his own weapon.
"In about another ten seconds, we won't be able to fall back. It isn't going to matter much anyways. They clearly know what we're planning!"
Without warning, an augment dropped from above, directly in front of Kephic, weapon at the ready. Instinctively, the speckled Gryphon ducked, and held in the trigger to his rifle, narrowly avoiding the enemy's first three rounds as they passed within millimeters of his head.
A fraction of a second later, the augment, the floor around him, and a large chunk of the entryway itself, exploded. The conflagration was vastly disproportionate to even the maximum potential damage Kephic's shots were capable of inflicting.
He squinted against the heat, and shrapnel, raising one wing to put an armored plate between himself and the majority of the debris.
The first detonation was followed by a staccato series of reports. Similarly spectacular accompanying detonations blossomed across the front lawn of the complex as each shot found its mark in a group of soldiers.
Bodies, pieces of bodies, synthetic turf, giblets of armor, and duracrete flew in all directions. Miniature fireballs and plumes of black smoke accompanied each new crater. As Kephic finally regained a stable stance, and dropped his protective wing, he allowed himself a moment of bewilderment as to the source of their good fortune.
The origin of the chaos manifested itself a moment later, as if on command.
With the dull roar of a hydrogen fuel cell engine at maximum throttle, and the rumbling clatter of collapsed masonry, the vehicle plowed through a low slung road barrier, caught several inches of air, and slammed onto the terrace.
Razor-thin at the front and rear thanks to its angled armor, the main body was made of pure titanium, slathered in dark gray urban digital camouflage paint. Suspended on four articulating tread bogeys, the central hull's harsh lines were broken only by the even more menacing triangular plates of the main turret.
Twin sprays of green spewed forth from the rear of the treads as the tank sought, and acquired, traction on the new driving surface.
The remaining soldiers tried desperately to hit the figure huddled in the driver's hatch with suppressing fire, but their efforts were too little and came far too late.
The tank sprang forward as the tracks at last dug in completely, ramming head on into the group of soldiers. The fifty mile an hour impact sent some of the bodies flying as far as ten yards. The vehicle braked sharply, coming to a stop in a protective position between the building's main doors, and the outside.
Two of the troopers survived the onslaught, their armor having absorbed the kinetic energy at just the right angle. As they began to shake off the effects of the collision, the tank's turret rotated swiftly to face them.
Without pause, mercy, or request for surrender, the twin barrels of the vehicle's main gun spoke out in quick succession.
The pair of troopers barely had time to claw their way back to a kneeling position, before they went up in a sudden and cacophonous fireball.
Celestia stared in open-mouthed and unabashed shock. Kephic and Varan took a series of slow steps towards the tank, while Stan and Skye slowly rose from cover, and did their best to comprehend the sudden change in situation.
From his position in the gunner's nest at the top of the turret, Fyrenn smirked down at Neyla.
"You're parked in a fire lane."
The Gryphoness raised her head up from behind the protective blast window of the driver's hatch, and glowered.
"If you start with this, I will clip off your head with the lowest hanging---"
Kephic interrupted, raising a claw and tilting his head to the side.
"Excuse me, but I thought you said you were going to acquire *transport.* This is not transport. It's a frigate on tracks."
Neyla flicked a switch on her control panel, and shifted her skewering glare to the speckled Gryphon. With a low whirr of servo motors, the tank's rear hatch irised open to reveal the inner hull compartment. Kephic shook his head slowly, mumbling as he did so.
"You two should not be allowed to go out without a chaperone."
Varan raised an eyebrow, "I have doubts that we will all fit into that space."
Fyrenn nodded, "That's why you and Kephic will fly close air support. Without having to worry so much about them," he jerked a thumb talon at Celestia and the Ponies, "You'll be a lot more flexible."
Stan trotted over to the rear hatch, and peeked around the edge of the entryway frame. He grimaced.
"Cozy. Real cozy."
Neyla sighed, "You feel free to walk, or fly. See how far you get."
Fyrenn chuckled, "Cozy is the price you pay for six hundred millimeters of titanium dipped energy diffusing nano-ceramic armor plating. I'm guessing you prefer cozy to becoming roadkill?"
Carradan gulped, and nodded, "Cozy is good!" He scrambled into the back of the tank, and took up a position in one corner of the chamber. Skye followed suit, suppressing a small giggle.
She glanced up at Fyrenn as she ducked inside, "You never do anything subtle do you?"
"There is an old military proverb..."
The red Gryphon grinned widely, and cycled the main gun's capacitor.
"Over-kill is under-rated."