//------------------------------// // Chapter 40 // Story: Hegira: Eternal Delta // by Guardian_Gryphon //------------------------------// Earth Calendar: 2117 Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact) March 28th, Gregorian Calendar Fyrenn slammed his helmet into place, and hefted his sword, twirling it idly in his right claw. He cast his gaze about the warehouse floor, pausing as his eyes lit upon a distinctive shape ensconced under a gray tarplin. He strode swiftly over to the object, and yanked hard on one side of the fabric. The covering fell away with a soft rustle. "Now we're getting somewhere." Fyrenn loped around to the driver's side of the vehicle, and yanked open the door. A single glance at the instrument panel told him everything he needed to know. "Tank is full. It's our lucky day." As the Gryphon performed a swift visual inspection of the humvee, April moved to stand in front of the bull bars. She squinted up at the fog lights, and her brow wrinkled. "You can drive?" Fyrenn finished his appraisal of the vehicle, and stepped back. It was a current model armored four wheel drive jeep. But for the unmarked black paint scheme, it was precisely equivalent to a JRSF humvee. He shook his head slowly. "Yes I can, but I don't plan to. That's your job." April raised an eyebrow, and snorted. "I've never even ridden a bicycle." Fyrenn pulled open the jeep's rear door, and gripped the edges of the nearest seat with both claws. With a soft grunt, he flexed his hind legs, and ripped the entire assembly off its moorings. He tossed the mangled chair aside, and stopped to nurse his sore wing as he spoke. "I have the best eyes, and the fastest reflexes, so I'm on the gun. Your sister has age and strength on her side, so she will be our secondary firepower. That leaves the driving to you." April shook her head, and giggled softly. "I can't even reach the pedals silly." Fyrenn cast about furtively until he spied what he was looking for. A series of rusty iron re-bars stacked twenty high on a shipping pallet. He snatched up two of the objects, and strode back to the jeep purposefully. As he spoke, he threaded one rebar behind the accelerator, wrapping the bottom end around it to secure it, and twisting the top spare thirteen inches into a pedal-like shape. "That won't be a problem. I'll set the gearbox to automatic, so all you have to worry about is gas, brakes, and avoiding anything especially solid in the roadway." Fyrenn quickly finished mimicking the impromptu extender setup with the brake pedal, then turned his attention to the dashboard. He muttered to himself as he flipped the switches, trying to take his mind off a particularly insistent bout of soreness in his right wing. "All-wheel drive engaged. Gear-box to automatic. Clutch to automatic. Traction control to automatic. Diff-lock set. Fuel efficiency governor off." As Sonya scrambled into the front passenger seat, Fyrenn reached down and scooped up April in his claws, making especially sure that he didn't scratch her with the tips of his talons. He deposited the young girl in the driver's seat, and gestured to the steering wheel. "Self explanatory. Right pedal is the accelerator; The harder you push down, the faster the engine will go. Left side is the brake; The harder you push down, the more braking power you get. You don't need to worry about the parking brake, shifter, ignition, or any of the instruments, except..." Fyrenn tapped the parking brake with one talon insistently. "You need to push in the release catch, and press this all the way down, but only when I say so." April grinned, and nodded. Fyrenn patted her on the shoulder reassuringly, and yanked down on the safety harness, expertly clicking all five restraint points into place, and cinching it until April winced. Finally, he reached out, and thumbed the ignition switch with one talon. The jeep's immense hydrogen fuel cell, eighteen cylinder engine roared to life with a menacing growl. The headlights, fog lights, and tail lights snapped on in sequence. Fyrenn pulled back, slammed the driver's side door shut firmly, then scrambled up through the rear of the jeep and into the turret position. With the back seating gone, there was just barely enough room for him to fit, and turn. He flicked the two activation and safety release switches, and pivoted the rail-gun into place. The weapon was a non-standard single barrel gauss cannon, as opposed to the normal rail-saw type miniguns such humvees normally sported. Fyrenn examined the device carefully, and concluded it would suit his purposes well. The refire rate was sluggish, but the rounds were five times the size of a standard small anti-vehicle munition, and would be delivered at three times the muzzle velocity. The red Gryphon flicked the main barrel out into attack configuration, and braced his hind legs. He glanced down through the windshield into the front. "Parking brake off." April gingerly reached down and released the lever as she had been instructed. The vehicle began to roll forward slowly. Fyrenn nodded towards the ramp at the end of the warehouse. "Gun it. No brakes until we're on the surface streets. We don't stop for anything, understand? You let me and your sister worry about any... 'Interested third parties.' " April inclined her head, and inhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands. "Alright. But remember, this was *your* idea..." Fyrenn shifted his wings slightly to avoid abrading them on the lip of the turret. "Relax. This is the second time this month I've done this." Sonya chuckled grimly. "Oh yeah? And how did it end last time?" Fyrenn winced, exhaled, and shook his head. "I think we'd best leave that discussion for later." "You hear that Sergeant?" The man stiffened reflexively, and raised his rifle. His partner sighed, and rolled his eyes. "For the last time Einrig; *Relax.* This is a snore-fest posting, and everyone knows it. Nothing is going to..." The man's voice trailed off, and he turned to face Einrig, his brow wrinkling. The two guards leaned towards the corrugated tin door they had been tasked with protecting, straining their ears to detect a trace of sound. The Sergeant's eyes narrowed as the noise reached his ears once more. "Is that a---" The words were abruptly truncated by a large explosion of corrugated tin shards, and concrete fragments. Through the miasma, a piercing set of halon light beams emerged, followed by the source of the commotion itself. The humvee tore through the remainder of the barrier as though it were little more than cloth scraps. Corporal Einrig, and his Sergeant, swiftly found themselves face to face with a set of curved, studded, titanium bull bars. The two stunned men instantly became two limp, airborne corpses, as kinetic energy transferal overwhelmed their skeletal infrastructure. April swerved manically back and forth across the parking lot, trying to clear dust and debris from the windscreen. "Did I hit something?!" Fyrenn snorted, wagging his head sharply back and forth to dislodge a thin coating of concrete grit from his feathers. "Just a little roadkill. Take the far exit, and go down the alleyway until you reach the street, then turn left." The humvee lurched across the empty lot, cutting a serpentine path through the concrete car-stops. Fyrenn winced as the back of the vehicle pulled out into a brief slide during a particularly sharp turn, the rear tires squealing loudly in protest. "Don't push the wheel too hard if you don't have to. Let it understeer a little if you must." April blanched, and gripped the wheel even more tightly, barely managing to thread the jeep into the alleyway. "What's understeer?!" The young girl jerked the steering column as hard as she could, causing the humvee to slide around the corner and into the street in a cloud of rubber smoke. The front bull-bars instantly slammed into the side of an offending obstacle, as April reflexively pressed down on the accelerator to curb the slide. The jeep accelerated away, forcing the second humvee to the side as it passed. Fyrenn wrenched the turret around one hundred and eighty degrees as swiftly as he could. "*That* is understeer." Fyrenn paused only long enough to verify the lack of markings on the second humvee, before discharging a railgun round directly into the front of the vehicle. The impact created a large fireball as the jeep's fuel cells ruptured. The red Gryphon winced, and shook his head. "Sonya, find the radio controls. Set to broadcast on four-eight-six point one-one-two-five-zero." Fyrenn twisted his body and head just enough to get a glimpse of the road ahead, nodding reassuringly down at April. "Turn left, next intersection. You're doing well!" Sonya tapped insistently at several keys on the main dashboard console, then snatched up the radio's microphone. "Ready!" Fyrenn tucked his head to avoid a hail of RAC rounds as another unmarked jeep skidded out of a side-street. "Transmit this, and repeat; 'Break-Break. Callsign: Juliette Romeo Sierra Foxtrot Gamma One Six Four. Urgent Alpha Priority. Extraction Requested: Armed Pursuit, Injured Friendlies.' " As the Gryphon spoke, Sonya mimicked his words. When she had finished, she repeated the message once more. Fyrenn glowered as the enemy vehicle closed rapidly. He fired a snap-shot without clear line of sight, shearing the roof off the right side of the humvee, and killing the soldier in the front passenger seat. In response, the soldier in the jeep's turret directed an indiscriminate spray of rounds forward, trying to track with Fyrenn's turret hatch. Mercifully, the vast majority missed. The red Gryphon rapped one fisted claw harshly against the interior of the turret ring, raising his voice to make sure April caught his instructions over the din of combat. "Cut left! NOW!" April grunted in frustration, wrenching the wheel left as hard as she could. She winced as the jeep clipped a fire hydrant, skidding around the sharp bend and into the center lane of a larger surface street. Fyrenn glanced over the rim of the turret, and said a brief silent prayer of thanks for the evacuation order. The roads were shut down for most of the surrounding ten square miles, which meant they were free to maneuver without the compounding issue of traffic. The red Gryphon pulled himself back up into a position where he could operate the turret, and spun the weapon to face the alleyway exit. Fyrenn squeezed the trigger just as the pursuing vehicle burst forth from the confined concrete canyon. The round sheared the entire front half off the enemy jeep, causing the rear compartment to crumple and roll violently. As April fought to further stabilize the jeep's course, the radio crackled to life with a familiar voice. "Gamma One Six Four: This is Manhattan Central. Fyrenn, is that you?!" The Gryphon recognized Aston's voice, and nodded down at Sonya, gesturing to the microphone. The young girl snatched up the device, and shouted to make herself heard over the noise of the engine. "He's here! Go ahead!" "Your distress signal has been received. There are two VTOLs in the air, we just need you to designate an extraction LZ." Fyrenn gestured to the swiftly approaching intersection, directing instructions first to April, then to Sonya. "Turn right here and swing up Tremont! Tell Aston there's a small park at the intersection of Tremont and Third with room for a landing zone. Tell her to relay that the approach will be under-fire, and tell her we need on-site jamming, plus a no-signal umbrella all the way home!" Fyrenn braced himself against the handles of his gun as April swung the humvee wildly through the intersection, narrowly missing the base of a lamppost in the process. He smiled down at the nervous child with as much reassuring calm as he could muster. "You're doing a fantastic job! Just follow this road until you see a big open space on the right with lots of synthgrass!" "Albatross Flight, Manhattan Central; Your target has been located moving up Tremont towards Third Street from the West. Urgent Alpha Priority Extraction. Expect heavy resistance. LZ has been designated as a small park space at the intersection of Tremont and Third. Coordinates are being sent to your navigator. Be advised, target has requested deployment of electronic countermeasures and jamming systems. Escort Drones deployed and inbound." Neyla pressed one talon into the side of her headset to seat it more firmly, then tucked her wings in and dipped into a wide, fast turn between two buildings. "Did you speak to Fyrenn? Is he injured?" Aston's voice acquired a more informal, familiar tone, laced with hints of concern. "No, I spoke to a young girl who said Fyrenn was there with her. There was a lot of engine noise in the background, and she reported medical concerns, so if I had to guess? Yes he's probably injured." Neyla's face hardened, and she began to reflexively beat her wings in a sharply angled profile, maximizing her speed for minimum cost in drag coefficient. As the enormous glass and steel corridor walls on either side began to whip past at death-defying speeds, Kephic's voice filtered through the comm. "Dispatch Military Police to the combat zone. There's a strong chance this will turn excessively bloody." Varan voiced Neyla's thoughts as she rolled, and dove to avoid a pedestrian skybridge. "I would also advise you alert the coroner's office to be prepared for mass casualties. We do not intend to make any arrests." "Sir? You need to hear this." Minos raised an eyebrow, and held out his hand, allowing the soldier to drop a small headset earpiece into the outstretched surface of his palm. As the armored sedan whisked breezily around a corner, he pushed the small bulb into his right ear. The soldier tapped at a small screen embedded in his left gauntlet, and blanched. "I've just been told that the next guard shift arrived at the storage site. They're reporting that the entrance detail is dead from multiple kinetic impact wounds. On-site assets have been shot, skewered.... Oh God... What's left of someone's head was just found *inside* the hydraulic press!" Minos glowered, and held up one finger for silence, straining his ears to catch the last of the words echoing through his earbud. "...Extraction. Expect heavy resistance. LZ has been designated as a small park space at the intersection of Tremont and Third. Coordinates are being sent to your navigator. Be advised, target has requested deployment of electronic countermeasures and jamming systems. Escort Drones deployed and inbound." The man glowered, and shook his head slowly, mumbling under his breath all the while. "Troublemaking red feathery bastard." Minos rapped his knuckles sharply on the reinforced glass dividing the rear compartment from the driver's seat. "Take the next right on Webster. Make for the corner of Tremont and Third. And get me regional asset command." The suited woman nodded sharply, and pressed firmly on the brake, pushing into the turn with vigor. "Yes sir!" The first warning sign came in the form of a distinctive scream-like sound. Fyrenn recognized it almost instantly as the unique, and incredibly rare vocalization of a twelve-cylinder petroleum-based engine. The sound was immediately followed by twin sprays of automatic rifle fire as two motorcycles darted out of perpendicular intersections, and began to bob and weave around the jeep incessantly. The militarized model of the twin-wheeled vehicle was the most common, since no one but the military, or the richest of private citizens, could afford the exorbitant price of the petroleum-based fuel. Fyrenn noted that each vehicle bore a driver, who was wholly focused on the road, and a gunner who clung to a side mounted handle-brace with one hand, and sprayed indiscriminately with his rifle using the other. As he tried to rotate the jeep's main gun into a suitable firing position, the Gryphon swiftly realized the motorcycles presented a very serious threat. The added weight of the long-gun's extra acceleration magnets made it impossible for the turret ring to revolve fast enough to keep up with the two motorcycles, even with Fyrenn's considerable strength behind it. The red Gryphon ducked as a particularly well-aimed line of rounds zipped through the space he had just been occupying. Another burst of fire peppered the driver's side window, causing April to wince and jump. In turn, the Jeep swerved sharply under her reflexive movement, causing the tires to squeal in protest. Fyrenn grunted as his injured wing brushed abrasively against the inner ring of the turret. Sonya's brow knit, and her mouth hardened into a thin, furiously clenched line. She raised both hands, holding them outstretched towards the nearest offending vehicle as if pronouncing some twisted form of a benediction. Then her hands clenched. Even as he watched it through the lens of his internal decelerated time, Fyrenn struggled to understand what he was seeing. The motorcycle, and its inhabitants, seemed to be both crumpling from one side as if beset by a controlled implosion, and exploding from all others, like overheated plexiglass struck with a jackhammer. At last, as pieces of bone, armor, bolts, and steel plating sprayed outwards in a fine mist, propelled by an immense fireball, Fyrenn realized what Sonya had done. The child had astutely realized that the amount of energy needed to stop the bike outright was well beyond her capacity. Instead, she had opted to compress the fuel tank catastrophically. The gasoline inside had sublimated, and then ignited, creating first a pressure wave, and then the conflagration that inevitably followed. It was as if the men on the motorcycle had been struck by an ignited napalm block, wrapped in an outer layer of semtex. By the time the jeep had reached the next intersection, all that remained of the offending vehicle and its occupants was a black streak of rubber, and scorched particulate matter, burning softly at its edges. Fyrenn leapt into action, immediately capitalizing on the opening Sonya had unintentionally given him. The second motorcycle had to swerve to avoid being caught up in the wreckage of their compatriots' ill-fated machine. That made their path much more predictable, and slowed their overall progress considerably. The combination of a decrease in overall velocity, a more predictable movement path, and increased distance between the two vehicles, more than compensated for the turret's slow traverse speed. Fyrenn smiled, and squeezed the triggers. The round crossed the distance in less time than it took the driver to perceive its arrival, shredding the front of the vehicle like wood in a chipping funnel. The shattering effect, driven by transference of kinetic energy, spread out over the entire vehicle like cracks in a stained-glass pane. The two riders were thrown clear, impacting the pavement at nearly one hundred miles an hour. Fyrenn put all his exertion into the turret's handles, doing his best to track with the soldiers as they rolled in tandem down the asphalt. As they slowed, he squeezed the trigger again, turning both men into an unrecognizable streak running down half a block of the center turn lane. The Gryphon spun in place, and glanced furtively at his surroundings as April continued to accelerate. He noted the name of the nearest side-street, and shouted loudly to ensure April didn't miss his instructions. "Make a right in two blocks! Don't brake all at once, and don't go too far into the center of the park." April nodded her acknowledgement, and twisted her hands back and forth around the edge of the steering wheel nervously. Fyrenn grinned slightly, and winked. "Relax. You're doing even better than Neyla did." The young girl smiled slightly, and glanced up through the topmost portion of the windshield. "Really?" Fyrenn snorted, and shook his head. "You're not as skilled, but you're definitely better for the environment. And my cartilage." Sonya shook her head, and glowered. "Focus! They're not gonna let go of us that easily. If at all." The Gryphon allowed his smile transition from comforting grin, to predatory leer. "I don't intend to give them an option." After a moment of relative calm, in which the roar of the engine drowned out all other sounds and thoughts, April pointed with her right finger. "Here?" Fyrenn nodded, "Here." He craned his neck over the edge of the turret to take in the environment. The park was approximately two blocks long and three wide. The space was mostly given over to a cheap form of synthgrass, crisscrossed by duracrete paths. Benches, children's playsets, and even bronze tree sculptures, were interspersed at various points in a pitifully vain attempt to generate a lively natural atmosphere. Fyrenn gestured sharply with one talon. "There. Behind that low wall. Slow to a gentle roll, stop, then pull up on the parking latch before you take your foot off the brake pedal." The Gryphon swept his gaze carefully over the surrounding structures and streets. As April began to gradually bring the Jeep's speed down, cutting diagonally through an intersection and up onto the curb, he got the distinct feeling they were being observed. As the jeep careened onto a footpath, and began to slow to an almost reasonable speed, the familiar and comforting sound of turboprop-driven light VTOL blades sliced the air. Accompanied by a low, dull whine generated by a brace of urban combat drones, the two transport gunships wheeled around the side of the nearest super skyscraper in tandem. The aircraft flared simultaneously, bringing their noses skyward and rotating their prop blades fully vertical as they dropped swiftly towards the largest open patch of turf. Fyrenn heard the telltale hiss first. By the time he had brought his head around to see the plume of white smoke billowing up from the next block over, the small missile had already arced over the top of the Jeep. He spun his head back just in time to see the warhead strike the left-side strut of the second VTOL, causing the port engine to erupt in smoke and flames. "SWERVE!" Even as Fyrenn screeched the word, he knew it was too late. April's reaction times were, after all, only Human. He just had time to watch the first VTOL touchdown, as the second pulled back and to the left, the pilot fighting desperately to keep the craft fully under control. Then, as a second telltale hiss dissipated, his world went berserk. Gravity, light, and sound conspired to transform Fyrenn's local frame of reference from a stable moving platform, into something morbidly resembling a clothes-dryer's spin cycle. Somehow, in spite of the fact that the humvee had nearly split in half, and had then rolled a good twenty yards before impacting a stone wall, Fyrenn clung to consciousness. His ears rang with the aftereffects of the missile's impact. His injured wing felt as if someone had dug the tip of a knife into the joint. Otherwise, the majority of his faculties remained intact, and largely unhindered. The sharp smell of burning aluminum brought the Gryphon back to full combat readiness. It took him only a thousandth of a second to realize the jeep was completely upside down, and that the top of the turret was wedged against the synth-turf. Fyrenn grunted, and extended his back legs slightly until his rear claws met the side door on the left side. He dug in, and pushed with all his might, bracing his foreclaws against the turret ring for stability. Accompanied by the groan of protesting metal roll bars, the door at last popped free of its housing, sailing three feet over a low wall and coming to rest in the middle of a nearby footpath. Fyrenn used his claws to provide sufficient force to eject himself from the vehicle, allowing his self-righting reflex to bring him to a graceful stop on all-fours, facing the ruin of the jeep. He instantly spied Sonya who was in the process of ripping her safety belt away, while simultaneously trying to wake April. The latter of the sisters seemed to have struck her head on the steering wheel, and fallen unconscious. Fyrenn gestured for Sonya to work on her own problems, and strode around to the opposite side of the jeep as swiftly as his legs would carry him. Smoke and an ominous red glow were billowing forth from the engine compartment, along with a disturbing wave of searing heat. The Gryphon stretched out his right claw, talons first, and slammed it mercilessly into the glass of April's window. Weakened by a spray of bullets, and the compression wave from the anti-vehicle missile, the substance gave way under the stress of Fyrenn's strength, channeled through four micrometer-thin talon points. Ignoring the shards, and thankful for the protection his scaly lower forelegs offered, Fyrenn reached in with both claws, and brutalized April's safety harness, shredding the fabric like tissue paper. As soon as the central locking mechanism fell away, he scooped the child up gingerly in both claws, and pulled her out through the window. For her part, Sonya had simply applied her psionic amp to the problem of escape, blasting the passenger-side door a solid ten feet away in her adrenaline-fueled rage, and panic. Fyrenn rotated his head sharply to the right as a small squad of troopers poured forth from the side of the VTOL, rushing madly across the intervening space, RACs raised. An ominous low roar filtered through the intersection behind him. The Gryphon didn't need to turn around and see the source of the engine noise to know that it was bad news. He silently passed April to Sonya, and gestured with one claw to the opposite side of the stone wall. As the elder sister vaulted the obstacle, crouched, and began to revive her sibling, Fyrenn returned to the jeep. Furious gunfire erupted from all directions as black-clad troopers burst forth from doorways, hallways, and rooftops. Fyrenn reached down and gripped the ring of the turret in both claws, yanking as hard as he could, and doing his best to ignore the din around him. His position of leverage allowed him to raise the vehicle up just enough to see the gauss-gun. He stretched out one claw, snagged the weapon, and ripped it cleanly off its mounts, stepping away rapidly as the jeep fell back into a recumbent position. Fyrenn pulled away even further, checking that there was still one round in the gun's chamber, and power in its capacitor banks, as the humvee finally erupted into a lurid red hydrogen fireball. He glanced across his field of vision, noting that their rescuers had become embattled behind cover nearly seventy yards away. Even the drone support they had mustered was pitiful compared to the sheer number of heavy enemy troopers that had descended on the block. The Gryphon paused, and flared his ears, sidestepping reflexively as a loud crack split the morning air. The feathers of his chest ruffled slightly as the rail-snipe round passed within inches of his ribcage. He momentarily ignored the sniper, mentally noting his position atop a bank across the block. The more immediate threat finally burst through a side alley, and came skidding into the entrance of the park with abandon. Fyrenn hefted the gauss-gun, taking only an eighth of a second to sight on the humvee's front right wheel, before squeezing the trigger. The kickback was enough to break every bone in an assault-trooper's body. To Fyrenn, it was mildly painful, given the state of his right wing, but he shifted his back legs slightly, and diffused the majority of it into the ground. The rest became barrel pull, jerking the end of the weapon ninety degrees skyward. The round struck true, transforming the jeep's front right quadrant into a twisted mess resembling a modern sculpture exhibition. Carried forward under its own momentum, combined with the understeer of the recently completed turn, the jeep pitched forward into an end-over-end cartwheel. Fyrenn dropped the depleted gauss gun over his right shoulder, and watched impassively as the enemy vehicle skidded to a stop in an upright position, a mere foot away from his beak, creating a barrier between himself and the sniper. He strode calmly over to the driver's side door, waiting patiently until the dazed man had managed to draw his pistol, and turn the weapon in a generally useful direction. Fyrenn reached out calmly, and snatched the gun from the man's trembling hand. Twisting it expertly and discharging it three times in swift succession, the red Gryphon dispatched the driver, passenger, and turret operator with precise throat-shots, before the other two soldiers even had time to re-focus their vision. Another shot issued forth from the sniper's position, but the round went wide, taking out the humvee's rear windows. Fyrenn seized on the momentary disruption of the shooter's sight-picture to acquire his objective. The Gryphon reached out and ripped the rail-saw from its bearings on the top of the turret, barely pausing to pick up the ammo-box as he threw the weapon, and its belt, over his right shoulder. As the sniper finished re-acquiring him, Fyrenn depressed the trigger calmly. Flames of plasmified air belched forth from the gun's forward aperture. The roof of the bank disintegrated instantly; Sniper, molding, and crenellations mixing together into a dull brown paste of concrete, squished rounds, and shredded biomatter. Clutching the gun over his right shoulder and the ammo-box in his left claw, Fyrenn turned the weapon to the right, cutting a line of instant death across the nearest enemy troopers before they even had a chance to recognize the threat. The rail-saw's rounds had been designed to puncture light vehicle armor, and even small bunker structures. The mere anti-personnel armor the soldiers were equipped with did nothing whatsoever to stop the immense slugs from carving them into unrecognizable strips of jerky and kevlar dust. Keeping the weapon spun-up, Fyrenn released the fire-trigger, and made a break for the stone wall where Sonya and April were hiding. As he leapt over the protrusion, and ducked, a hail of fire followed him. He noted, with relief, that April was awake and cogent, crouching on her own feet without external support. Fyrenn gestured with his left claw, and ammo box, towards the VTOL, issuing instructions in a clipped, sure tone. "Seventy two yards and change. Only fifty three to the nearest defensive line. Thirty to the inside of the jamming blanket if the VTOL is doing its job. Sonya, you're moving secondary cover. April; You run as fast as you can and don't look back. I'll provide primary cover fire from here." Sonya shook her head adamantly, glancing tentatively over the stone wall. "There are fifteen of them and only one of you." Fyrenn shrugged, and glanced at the weapon on his shoulder. "Well gee... Sucks for them." The Gryphon tensed his back legs, and inhaled sharply. "On three. One! Two! THREE!" April took off like a shot as Fyrenn pivoted up over the wall, and depressed the main trigger once more, engulfing the world ahead of him in fire, and tungsten, and noise. Sonya hesitated for a half second, before taking off after April, hands raised and outstretched like claws. A few stray rounds found their way towards the siblings, but Sonya was easily able to redirect them all. The majority of the enemy's fire was, understandably, focused on the red leoavinid with a chain gun on his right shoulder. Fyrenn snapped the ammo-box to a universal magclip on his right rear leg gauntlet, and brought the weapon down off his shoulder into a more stable two-claw grip. The action increased his range of free-motion, allowing him to dive and roll in an awkward, but workable fashion. In-spite of the rail-saw's immense effectiveness, the weapon was doing very little to stem the overall tide of enemy soldiers. It seemed as if an entire division of the unmarked ghost-troopers had descended on the park. Fyrenn realized there were easily a dozen dead, and three-dozen still-standing. The survivors had tightened up their tactics, making ample use of cover, and numbers. Fyrenn grunted as he remembered the condition of his injured wing. An inability to fly practically crippled him, both from the standpoint of combat effectiveness, as well as escape chances. As rapidly as the conditions had shifted in the enemy's favor, they abruptly stilted back. Almost before Fyrenn could finish his own tactical assessment. With an unholy war-screech Varan's familiar form dropped from the top of a nearby building, slamming into his first opponent so hard, that the impact drove the man's skull and helmet nine whole inches into the asphalt of the road. Kephic streaked up from the north, flying low over the footpaths with his RAC and blowing away any soldier foolish enough to stand from behind their cover point. Fyrenn only had to wonder for half a second where Neyla had positioned herself. A loud report rang out, and the soldier nearest his position dropped dead, his helmet obscured by a cloud of sparks and shattered armor dust. The red Gryphon twisted his head towards the sound, and focused his eyes. Eight blocks away, and seventy stories up, Neyla was leaning out of a building window, a scope-less railsnipe cradled in both forearms. She gestured silently with one claw towards the VTOL, and Fyrenn nodded. His right ear flicked reflexively as Neyla's next shot passed within three feet of his head, arcing gracefully down into the visor of the nearest unmarked trooper with pinpoint precision. Fyrenn seized on the momentary confusion and fear being generated in the enemy ranks. Depressing his gun's main trigger once more, he burst from cover and began loping across the park towards the rescue squad as fast as his hind legs would take him. A half-dozen enemy soldiers attempted to form a firing line and rid themselves of the red Gryphon once and for all, but their attempt was poorly conceived at best. Those that Fyrenn's rail-saw did not slice into unrecognizable quivering lumps, were left to Neyla, or Kephic. Neither Gryphon seemed especially concerned with conserving enemy lives, nor ammunition. In Fyrenn's estimation, the enemy could afford to make one final push, but after that, their force would be critically broken. One way or another, the battle was over. Military Police reinforcements could be only minutes away. For his part, Varan had made his way deftly over to the rescue squad, and was busy ensuring that there were no further casualties on that front. Within twelve seconds Fyrenn had crossed the synthetic field of turf, and rolled into a guarded position behind a small hillock. A single glance at the ammo belt told him the rail-saw was effectively depleted. He unclipped the casing from his leg, and tossed the entire monstrosity to the side. The nearest ConSec trooper passed Fyrenn his pistol wordlessly. Varan inclined his head towards the impromptu wrappings around Fyrenn's right wing. "Injured?" Fyrenn nodded, and cycled the pistol's capacitor bank. "Dislocated and set, but still very tender. I can't risk flight-strain yet." He turned to the senior ConSec trooper, a Lieutenant Commander according to his shoulder-plate. "Commander; Please tell me we're under a jamming blanket." The man nodded without taking his eyes off the sights of his RAC. "Affirmative. Manhattan Central has tuned the city's Police comm grid to form an ECM white-out zone. Seventy meter sphere around the evac bird, locked to its IFF beacon." Fyrenn nodded, and allowed himself a small sigh of relief. He shot April and Sonya an encouraging smile as he continued to speak. "Full Sitrep?" The Lieutenant Commander raised his rifle into a safe position and pulled away from the hillock, allowing Varan to take his place, locking eyes with Fyrenn as he spoke. "Albatross one is spun up, ready for evac, but we're waiting on two more support drones. Albatross two had to pull out. Heavy engine cowling damage. We have one dead, and two wounded here, but your friends seem to be providing good overwatch." A young woman who couldn't have been older than twenty three tapped the side of her helmet, and barked out a rapid-fire report. Her shoulder bars identified her as a Corporal. "Burst-transmission from Central! More Tangos inbound from North and West quadrants. Three Platoons of Military Police are en-route with heavy armored pacification assets. Cleanup crew is a Shinigami-Heavy incoming from Glen-Curtiss AFB. Tuned to our beamriders. ETA two minutes!" Fyrenn gestured with one claw to April and Sonya. "We have to get them out of play as soon as possible, along with your wounded. " The red Gryphon gestured towards the west and north as he continued, "Neyla, Varan, and Kephic will provide a spearhead of moving overwatch, and handle their own egress from the engagement box. You and your two functionals will handle your wounded, I will handle the young ones and myself." Fyrenn dipped his head towards the VTOL, locking eyes briefly with the pilot. "We'll pull back from the kill-box and lay down target beams for the Shinigami as we exfiltrate. MPs will clean-up anything left moving. We will proceed directly back to Central, with no stops, under cover of the escort drones, Neyla, and Kephic." The Gryphon fixed his eyes on Varan, and nodded as he finished. "You alright with staying here and spearheading cleanup? I feel its best we have one of us here to make sure nothing useful gets... 'Lost.' " Varan's eyes hardened, and he nodded sharply. The golden Gryphon inferred from Fyrenn's tone, manner, and expression, that he was concerned about subversive elements. It was the most blunt admission of mis-trust for Human officers that Varan had ever heard from an Equestrian. The fact that it came from Fyrenn left him with a twisting sensation of worry deep in his gut. Fyrenn turned his eyes upwards as the piercing buzz of a mini-drone, and its centrally mounted gun, began to make itself known over the din of pitched battle. The Corporal stated the obvious for everyone's benefit. "Support package is here!" The red Gryphon raised a fisted claw, and extended the index talon, spinning it round and round. The VTOL pilot recognized the gesture, and began to prepare the engines for a rapid takeoff. The whine of the turboprops intensified sharply, though the spin of the blades themselves remained sluggish as they waited for re-engagement of the clutch. Fyrenn pointed to the open side of the craft. "I'll take port-side gun. Commander, you're on the co-pilot's chair, keep your finger on the countermeasure launcher." The red Gryphon tapped the young Corporal on the shoulder. "You are the other rear-guard for the run; Focus on providing cover for April. Eyes out.." The young woman nodded and swiftly exchanged her rifle for Fyrenn's pistol. As she removed the clip and blew on the ammunition, Fyrenn pointed once more to the VTOL. "When we reach the VTOL, you're starboard gunner. Remember, unfriendlies are geared in standard Earthgov armor. Pick targets based on a lack of emblems or functioning IFF in your heads-up." Fyrenn smiled once more at April and Sonya, and gestured with one claw. "Stay behind me. If you have the energy, the Corporal and I would certainly appreciate cover shielding. Whatever you do, you stay within my overwatch protection cone, and inside the ECM blanket. Once you make it inside the VTOL, the Corporal will help you strap in. From then on, hands-off and stay heads-down. You'll be safe." The red Gryphon glanced down at the RAC he had been handed, and removed the safety with a casual flick of his left index talon. "Take ready positions!" The young Corporal raised her pistol, turned to face the VTOL, and stepped out as far as she dared. The remaining soldier, and the Lieutenant Commander, hefted their wounded into fireman's carry postures, switching to their own pistols and discarding their RACs. Varan rolled to the right side of the hillock, and offered a slight nod to Kephic, who in turn nodded up the street to Neyla. April and Sonya moved to stand behind Fyrenn, who brought up the rear of the formation. "Ready?! Three! Two! One! GO!" Even as the words left his beak, he squeezed the trigger and sprayed the top of an unmarked helmet that foolishly dared to peek over the edge of a bench. "Pick up the pace!" Fyrenn swept his rifle back and forth in slow arcs, focusing his eyes on even the tiniest of details. He turned his right ear to the rear, listening intently as the VTOLs blades engaged fully with the gearbox and began to spin more swiftly. The Gryphon turned his left ear forward, and strained to pick out useful aural clues from amidst the cacophony of rifle fire, screaming, and burning vehicles. He stiffened as the sound of another engine reached him. Accompanying the dull thrum, a black up-armored sedan drifted out of a nearby alleyway, braking hard to bring it up short of Neyla's firing corridor. At such extreme range, Fyrenn knew that small-arms would be pointless against the vehicle's hardened plating and plexiglass. That made the situation all the more frustrating as he recognized the right-side passenger in the rear compartment. Minos smiled slightly as he raised his hardened DaTab, locking eyes with Fyrenn in the process. Without pause, or any sign of remorse, he pressed his thumb firmly down on the central control surface. Any other observer might have missed it, but Fyrenn's eyes had enough resolution at-distance to see the way Minos' face tensed in frustration. He glowered over Fyrenn's shoulder at April and Sonya, but the two young girls continued to step backwards unhindered. Fyrenn grinned, and threw off a mock salute with his left claw. The Gryphon counted off the remaining steps. His previous glances in the direction of the VTOL allowed him to reason spatially about the area without turning his head, a fact he was immensely grateful for given his diminished mobility. He judged that the VTOL was a mere fifteen steps back. He gestured with one claw harshly. "Make a break and get onboard now!" April turned and dashed flat out, sliding between the Lieutenant Commander and the side of the hatch frame, then ducking into cover within the troop bay. Fyrenn glanced down at Sonya, his expression morphing swiftly to a pointed glare. "We're there! It's over! GO!" Sonya pointed towards the sedan, her face hardening slowly into a stony mask of uncontrolled rage. "If he walks out of here?! We'll never be free!" Fyrenn shook his head, spraying several dozen rounds of suppression fire towards the nearest piece of cover to discourage the two soldiers there from popping up. "If you walk out of this jamming blanket he'll kill you before you get halfway down the block!" Sonya raised her hands, and twisted sharply, yanking the two soldiers to the side and exposing them. Fyrenn released two precise bursts of semi-automatic fire into their lower faceplates as the girl spoke. "You really think you can protect us?! You're DELUDING yourself!" Fyrenn let out a low growl, and fixed Sonya with a piercing glower. "I have been hunting and killing other sapients, and surviving that crucible, since before you were BORN! What do you think my kind DOES for a LIVING?! For God's sakes just TRUST ME!!" The red Gryphon was forced to take his eyes off the child to loose another barrage at a dashing trooper. Even as the rounds left the muzzle, he sensed Sonya spring into action. Before Fyrenn could bring the butt of his weapon to bear, Sonya had snatched a small cylindrical object from the Corporal's belt, and begun a mad dash across the field. Fyrenn threw his RAC aside, and dropped to all fours, pouring every ounce of his strength into his legs. Synth turf churned under him like a boiling sea of plastic green scuzz as his claws and talons tore the material away. Though Fyrenn was several times faster than Sonya in a flat-out sprint, the girl had the advantage of her implants. Gunfire splattered against the air around her as if it had met up with an invisible steel wall. She refused to slow her pace one iota. Fyrenn had no such protection, and it didn't take the troopers long to realize that he was a considerably larger, less defended target. Within half a second, he was surrounded by a hail of fire. He ground to a halt, rose to a bipedal stance, and drew his sword in one smooth motion. Though the action greatly increased his target profile, it allowed him to use the weapon to deflect the incoming the rounds he could not dodge in his hampered state. Without the added protection, he knew the storm of bullets would begin to riddle his armor's weak spots with lethal wounds. The amount of sheer concentration required for such an immense deceleration of relative perception left him virtually unable to change position in any meaningful way. He opened his beak and began shouting an invective laced stream of orders at Varan and Sonya; The latter to halt and the former to cover her mad dash. The sound of the commands seemed alien in his own ears, reduced to rumbles like thunder by the elongated passage of seconds. All Fyrenn could do was watch, and desperately fight to preserve his own life, as another enemy humvee careened down the street, rotating its turret towards Varan and opening fire in one seamless motion. The golden Gryphon easily evaded the molten stream of lethal metal, but it cost him his useful sight picture. In the chaos, Sonya reached the hillock that marked the edge of the jamming blanket, and mounted it. Two soldiers attempted to open fire on her directly, but she extended one hand, almost as an afterthought, and reduced their skulls to a pasty mixture inside their helmets. As the young girl passed out of the ECM umbrella, Fyrenn tensed and began shifting backwards as quickly as he could afford to. The second passenger in Minos' sedan had opened his door, and was crouching behind it for cover. The man had produced a standard issue rail-snipe, and was carefully tuning a thermal-scope. Fyrenn realized that he was searching within the confines of the VTOL. For April. He also realized there were no choices left. He had but one viable avenue of action. Leaping as far back as he could, Fyrenn spun around his center of mass, doing his best to ensure his sword would come up in precisely the right spot upon exiting the roll. The maneuver brought his blade directly into the sniper's sight-line, just as the thunderous sound of the discharge reached the Gryphon's ears. The round was considerably faster than the small arms fire Fyrenn was used-to deflecting, but because of the necessity of a fixed trajectory, it had been more predictable. The round slammed into his blade perpendicular to the edge, shearing the shell's casing in half and causing the two pieces to ricochet. One went wild into the side of a tree sculpture, the other grazed through a weak-spot in Fyrenn's right foreleg gauntlet, and nicked the scales of the limb, drawing blood. Judging by the latent soreness and throb, he guessed part of the shell had lodged in the upper layers of the protective material. He flared his good wing to cover all possible sight lines towards April, and set out at a dead run towards the VTOL. Another crack sounded, and the air above his head shimmered with the passage of a round. A miss. Again, a discharge broke the air. The third round grazed the protective joint of his wing armor, doing little damage as a result of the angle of impact. The force of the collision was enough to redirect the round, however, and it sailed off over the top of the VTOL, missing it by inches. The sniper was panicking, thus failing to allow himself time to re-adjust his sight picture to account for recoil and muzzle-pull. A prolonged pause told Fyrenn the man had realized his mistake, and was preparing to unleash the kill-shot. Fyrenn dove into the rear compartment, smothering April with one wing and pressing her into the floor. The Corporal shifted from her assigned door-gun to the port side weapon, and cycled the safety. Fyrenn raised his head just in time to see her open up with the rail-saw, shredding the forward portion of the man's sniper rifle, and a small but fatal part of his head, as the rounds passed through the scope and into his helmet crest. The woman then turned the gun on the enemy humvee, managing to land lucky shots on the turret operator. The driver quickly kicked the vehicle into reverse, desperately maneuvering the jeep out of the corporal's kill-box. Fyrenn watched, unable to look away, as Sonya crossed into the intersection. The passenger-side soldier in the humvee leaned out and began firing, but the action was futile. Sonya tossed the rounds aside as if they were chaff. The girl had locked eyes with Minos, and was striding purposefully towards the sedan, an expression of thoughtless rage twisting her visage into something horrifyingly adult, for a child's tender face. Fyrenn realized, only after the sound escaped his beak, that he had called out to her once again. She ignored him. Minos allowed Sonya to get close. Within a single step of the maximum range for her amp, by Fyrenn's estimation. Then he raised the DaTab, and pressed the button. He crossed his hands behind his back, and watched, feeling no need to take cover, or protect himself in any way. Fyrenn's breath caught in his chest, and for a tenth of a second, his heart stopped as chemicals and electro-quantum impulses associated with clinical shock flooded his nervous system. Sonya managed to take one more step, then staggered to her knees. A dozen troopers rushed forward from their cover positions, safe in the knowledge that the terrain kept them out of their enemy's more lethal sight-lines. The men clustered around Sonya as she clutched at her head, screaming. Fyrenn yanked April close, and forced her face into his chest-feathers. The girl was unusually strong, however, and she twisted her head back around before Fyrenn could find a gentle way to prevent her from doing so. He felt her breathing stop, like his, as her eyes locked on the kneeling form of her sister. He found that a tiny part of his brain reflected gratefully that April's eyes were only Human. All she could see was a silhouette. Fyrenn could see what was really happening. He did his best to flush all of the time-elongating chemicals from his system, and make the moment pass as swiftly as he could. But it did little to aid in shutting out the image. Sonya's skin blanched as if suddenly deprived of all water and blood. Veins and nerves bulged, rippled, and liquefied as they necrotized, inch by agonizing inch, under the assault of trillions of tiny cell-sized machines. From all the way across the park, Fyrenn thought he actually heard the 'CLINK' of the pin as it was pulled from the grenade. He knew for a fact that he heard Minos' scream of panic as he dove behind the Sedan, placing its considerable bulk between himself and the live weapon. The soldiers surrounding Sonya were not so lucky. The weapon the girl had filched from the Corporal was a high-strength implosion grenade. Designed to kill armored targets by vacuuming vulnerable tissue out through weak-spots, thus traumatizing the combatant inside fatally. Sonya vanished in a pinprick of light and heat, accompanied by a dull thump. The blast wave pushed outwards, mercifully ending her torment, and creating a large pocket of vaporized air. The field collapsed all at once, forming the temporary vacuum force that the weapon was designed to create. The surrounding soldiers flew together in a pile, like a sort of grim cairn. Fyrenn could see small trickles of external evidence indicating their own bones and organs had become internal spall, cutting fatal paths through their innards. It felt for a protracted moment as if someone had stabbed a serrated blade deep into his chest, pressing into his heart. Heat, and pain, and a red haze boiled up from within like a wildfire caught up in a tornado. Then April screamed. Fyrenn felt as if the knife had been jammed into his stomach as well, and twisted. Over, and over, and over. Fyrenn later realized she had been screaming Sonya's name, but the sounds were unrecognizable at the time as anything but the most raw form of pain. The pure white-hot searing emotion was unbearable. A child deprived of the one, and only person in her life who had ever provided love, and stability. April clutched Fyrenn's chest so hard that it hurt, burying her head against him and heaving uncontrollably as she wept. Tears coated his chest-feathers like clear blood. Even the corporal fell away from her door-gun, sitting down hard on the vehicle's floor plating, mouth agape. As the VTOL rose, no one aboard moved, or spoke. For the first time since the start of the battle, there was relative quiet. The aural void around them made April's anguished, wracking cries all the more poignant. Even the remaining enemy soldiers seemed completely stunned. Fyrenn watched in a total daze as the majority threw down their weapons, dropping to their knees and placing their hands over their heads. The rest dropped their weapons, and took off down the street at a dead run, fleeing the battlefield wholesale. Only Minos was absent, having doubtless vanished into the nearest escape route during the confusion. Fyrenn felt as if he was seeing the scene from afar, as the VTOL continued to rise. At last, the pilot reached flight altitude, and held short. The red Gryphon was jarred back into a present, real, active perception as he heard the words filtering over the man's headset. "Albatross One; Shinigami is moving down westerly trajectory. Kill-corridor can be established in ten seconds. Laze centerline of target zone for ordinance drop." The corporal glanced up at the lieutenant commander. The man shook his head. At that moment, Fyrenn finally managed to internalize the red haze obscuring his perceptions. The mist melted away, absorbing into his very bones. He silently held out a claw to the Corporal. For a long moment, the woman stared at the limb as if it were a completely unfamiliar, unclassifiable sight. At last, her eyes widened, and she shook her head slowly. "They're retreating! Some of them are surrendering! We can't--" Fyrenn's eyes narrowed, and he yanked the woman's pistol from its holster. She foolishly tried to raise a hand, resulting it her arm and collarbone becoming wedged in a difficult position. Fyrenn pushed her away, ignoring her hiss of pain, and the slight pop, as he sprained her wrist. "We can't allow them to get away with this." The Lieutenant Commander glowered, and reached up an index finger to bring his headset mic into position. Fyrenn pierced him with a death-glare as he prepared the rail pistol's beamrider attachment. "If you open your mouth into that microphone, I will render you incapable of speaking for the next month before you finish the first syllable, you understand me soldier?" The tone of the words, combined with Fyrenn's sheer size and demeanor, seemed to blast through the man's resistance. He sat back in his chair, deflated and defeated. Fyrenn turned the pistol's muzzle on the street, carefully aligning the invisible laser designator beam so that the killbox would engulf all the fleeing soldiers, but leave most of the surrendering troops alive, if not uninjured. He grit his beak, and held the position, as the sound of a jet turbine engine began to swell from over the tops of the buildings to his rear. The Pilot glared as he did his best to keep the VTOL stable, his tone clearly disproving. "You're killing innocents." Fyrenn snorted, and shook his head. "There are no innocents here." As the world before him turned bright red with cleansing fire, Fyrenn clutched April close to his chest, and allowed his own tears to flow freely. The HHK-74 'Shinigami' Drone was nearly the size and tonnage of a fully fledged manned fighter jet. Sleek, menacing gray, and shaped like a squashed arrowhead, it lanced through the air as though it were some sort of warhead itself. Uncaring, unfeeling, and totally automated, the vehicle was designed to receive simple vector and killbox commands from a central control post. Field-deployed beamriders could provide additional accuracy and bounding commands when proper satellite feeds and IFF tagging were not present. As the aircraft thundered over Tremont street, it had no qualms whatsoever about dispensing seven high-tonnage incendiary warheads directly into a series of civilian streets and structures. Its infrared systems rightly assured it that the buildings were completely empty of civilians. The only signatures were fleeing armored targets displaying no IFF tag. That made them, to the Drone's AI, hostiles plain and simple. So under the insistence of Fyrenn's beamrider, the Shinigami did the work of its namesake death-god with brutal, unquestioning efficiency. Impact zones were selected for maximum infliction of guaranteed casualties by using simple vector predictive math. The fact that the enemy was in full retreat was irrelevant to the machine. The warheads were released, and shot forward under the power of their own short range motors, fins twitching manicly as they made minute corrections in the seconds leading up to impact. In quick succession, an entire two blocks of Tremont Street vanished in a series of immense fireballs. The fifteen armored men and women, scattering to the four winds as per their evacuation and regroup protocol, didn't even have time to look up and see their judgement descending. The blast wave killed the vast majority instantly. And the fire cleansed all that remained.