Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
March 29th, Gregorian Calendar
Minos winced as the black rubberized band around his wrist constricted abruptly. A rush of painful signals exploded from his right hand as the bones and muscles came under pressure.
The squeezing motion was followed by a series of small pinpricks, and then a wash of relief as the medical band dispensed millions of healing and nerve-damping nanites into the man's right arm.
"Explain it to me again. In clearer terms."
The tone of the voice caused Minos to wince once more reflexively. Calm yet saccharine sweet, in an intentionally insincere manner and timbre.
He pulled his healed wrist from the portable medical device, and rubbed it reflexively and nervously with his left hand as he spoke.
"It started with a situation report from one of the field units. They said there was a Gryphon sticking his beak where it didn't belong."
The woman folded her hands and inclined her head, pursing her lips slightly. Though she was seated across the chamber, her perfume was so pungent Minos wished he could don a rebreather.
He shivered and shook his head as he continued.
"I assembled a large detail, we went out to the site, and we established a perimeter. Sure enough, there was a Gryphon in unmarked gray combat armor, interacting with two of the assets. High risk examples. The younger in the pair has said some concerning things in recent months."
The woman raised an eyebrow, and blinked once slowly. Minos shrugged and waved one hand absently.
"The usual drivel the unstable younger ones tend to spout at that age. Conversion as salvation from their condition and shit like that. We took the assets and the intruder back to a holding facility. Tried information extraction, but the intruder wouldn't budge. I was on my way to you, to request permission to terminate the assets..."
The woman nodded sagely, and sighed, speaking in a manner that left Minos feeling vaguely guilty for no discernable reason.
"And it was at this point that you diverted to cut off their escape attempt."
Minos returned the nod and sighed as well.
"We didn't have enough assets on site to properly contain the three of them all at once. The evacuation has put a lot of pressure on the troops to perform at a higher standard. Some of them can't handle it."
The woman dipped her head and pursed her lips once more, allowing a hint of forced doubt to creep into her voice.
"My colleagues are starting to question whether *you* can handle this tasking. Under your supervision both the intruder, and one of the assets, were able to make an escape. And there is the still-vexing concern of discovering how this Gryphon learned of the assets in the first place."
Minos rose, and ran a hand through his hair, doing his best to cloak his frustration for the sake of self preservation.
"Well what do you suggest I do?"
The woman shook her head, and rose as well, straightening her violently orange jacket with a sniff.
"You will do nothing for the moment. I will make enquiries, and then I will make a judgement call once we are fully aware of all the situational variables."
Minos nodded, and inclined his head.
"Yes Councilor."
"She finally fell asleep on the staff-lounge sofa. Here's hoping she'll finally get some rest."
Fyrenn glanced at each member around the table in turn as he approached.
"I want to know just what the hell happened out there," Lantry sat back and folded his arms as he spoke.
Fyrenn exhaled, and collapsed into a sitting position beside Kephic at the table. The room's ambient lighting was tuned to its dimmest night-time setting, giving the vast space an eerie aspect in conjunction with its emptiness.
Normally the Bureau's cafeteria was an inviting location. To Fyrenn, it suddenly felt like a space he'd never inhabited before. The effect was familiar to him. After emotional trauma a familiar location could often become uncannily strange in one's eyes.
He sighed, and shook his head.
"My thoughts exactly. Who were these people and wherefore did they get the gall to assault military assets so brazenly?"
Lantry's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward.
"Let's put that aside for the moment, and start with *your* behavior. Just what did you think you were going to accomplish when you ordered a heavy hunter-killer drone to release a full payload of incendiaries on *retreating* targets, in direct violation of protocol you're sworn to uphold?"
Fyrenn stiffened. The other members of the group instantly reacted by fixing their eyes on him. Carradan exhaled sharply, uncrossing his legs and abandoning his position leaning against the near wall in favor of a standing pose.
Skye winced, and backed away from the table. Varan remained impassive, but Kephic and Neyla began shaking their heads slowly. Everyone save Lantry seemed to know what was coming.
Fyrenn allowed his emotions to ever-so-slightly govern his tone, practically dipping his words in steel and grinding them to razor sharp serrated points as he flung them at Lantry with a calm that belied his inner roiling struggles with comportment.
"I'm not entirely sure what they taught you at command school, or what you've picked up, or missed, in your years of field experience, but let me tell you something General..."
Fyrenn leaned forward as well, the lights casting the curve of his beak in a lurid fluorescent blue that made it look like nothing so much as plated steel, coated in gold paint.
"When *I* win a fight? I like to make sure I win every possible future fight I might conceivably have with that particular undesirable, unworthy, scummy waste of useful breathable air. I don't permit loose ends on the battlefield. Ever. If your protocol has a complaint, it can talk to my feathered red ass during office hours. Weekdays from nine to five."
Lantry placed both hands on the table, and tried to further harden his face, but Kephic and Fyrenn both noticed a slight reflexive pull-back in his center of mass, indicative of his inner instinctive nervousness.
The Human self preservation reflex simply couldn't cope with the idea of provoking a predator. Nonetheless, Lantry's anger over-rode his common sense, and he spoke, forcing each word out through gritted teeth.
"You will remember your place when speaking to a superior officer, particularly one who was woken up in the middle of the night and flown all the way across the continent because a subordinate executed fleeing enemies in cold blood. Your little stuns killed two of the surrendering troopers as well. You could be charged for this."
Fyrenn raised an eyebrow, and snorted, causing Lantry to jump reflexively, ever-so-slightly.
"As to the first point, I'm oh so sorry you were inconvenienced. While you were busy sleeping it off in a comfortable reclining executive-class seat, I was having my right wing scanned. The one I had dislocated in a hydraulic press. Right before I was inside a humvee that got overturned by a missile."
Fyrenn leaned forward again, bringing his beak dangerously close to Lantry's face.
"Right before I watched a little girl pull the pin off a grenade and fall on it because what these people were doing to her? Was something I can't even describe to your mammalian prey-brain without melting it into a blubbering cup of gelatin. You'll excuse me if I'm feeling just a little bit snippish."
The red Gryphon sat back, and exhaled sharply in disgust as he finished.
"As to charges? You tell whoever is putting those ideas on your desk that they're kindly advised to read the after-action report. If I remorselessly dropped five thousand kilos of incendiaries on fleeing targets after hiking a rail-saw half a mile in my bare claws, killing a couple-dozen more enemy soldiers in the process? What do you think your superiors could possibly do by way of applying any punitive actions to me? And what do you think I'd do to them if they tried?"
Lantry glowered, but pulled away nonetheless, finally giving in to his internal alarm bells and distancing himself from Fyrenn's sharper edges.
"You're way out of line. But as you pointed out, you've been through a lot. Because of your past service, I'm going to pretend, for your sake, that your emotional trauma makes a passable excuse for that rank insubordination."
The General sighed, and chewed on his lower lip momentarily, before continuing.
"Take some leave. That's not a request. You'll need to check-in any official armaments with supply command, and from then on you're restricted from access to the armory, or any other military installation. Your command codes will be temporarily paused, and if you keep your beak shut then I can make any attempts at charges go away."
Varan stood, picked up a coffee carafe, and spoke calmly as he glanced down into its murky dregs.
"Not wise."
Lantry blinked several times, then cocked his head and fixed the Gryphon with an affronted stare.
"Excuse me?! Do you have something to add?"
Varan shrugged as Kephic, Neyla, and Fyrenn silently handed him their carafes, and moved towards the kitchen at a sedate pace.
Kephic chuckled grimly, and offered the General a highly discomfiting grin.
"I think what my brother is trying to convey is that you're flying into dangerous thunderheads. When we judge who is guilty in a situation like this, we blame those who stand in our way, or validate the actions, as much as we blame those who committed the first evil itself."
Lantry glowered sullenly, and folded his arms in a defensive gesture.
"I'm not condoning what these people did. You don't think we're in enough of a panic-mode already? We're one inch away from gutting the entire Earthgov military, burning the command structure to the ground, and handing everything over to the JRSF. And that was just over the HLF. Whoever these people are, they'll get what's coming to them."
Neyla scoffed, and tossed her head to the side, rolling her eyes in frustration.
"I've seen your politics. You'll flush out a few scapegoats, hang them high in the public square, and turn a blind eye to the ones who orchestrated it all. Because we all know that something this large is being run from the inside."
Fyrenn nodded, and interjected before Lantry could open his mouth to respond.
"You and your superiors and colleagues won't risk rocking the boat, especially not at a time like this. I'll bet you whatever you like that by tomorrow afternoon someone who outranks even your boss will come marching through the front doors, demanding custody of that little girl. She's a liability to them, of monstrous proportions."
Lantry nodded slowly, finally managing to get a word in.
"Maybe so. And what of it? If their claim is legitimate---"
Fyrenn's eyes narrowed, and he shook his head once, sharply cutting the General off.
"And if their claim is legitimate they won't object to a waiting period while an internal probe is launched. That child does not leave this building under any supervision but mine, until I'm satisfied with the outcome of this. Before you object to *that* statement, you should remember that the last time someone took a fledgling away from a Gryphon, a whole race paid the price."
The General squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. Fyrenn calmly accepted his carafe from Varan as the latter dispensed the fruits of his coffee run to the table.
"You're not listening to me. She's not a 'fledgling,' she's a Human being, and a de-facto citizen even if she is a street orphan. That makes her a ward of the state."
Fyrenn chuckled and took a long sip of his coffee before responding, allowing the warmth of the drink to flow into his stomach, and then out into his sore muscles.
"And General, you're not listening to me either. I suggest you start now if you want to live to see next month."
The pure shock of the bald-faced threat generated enough stunned silence to allow Fyrenn to finish in a low, ominous tone.
"At this stage I don't care about Human rules. Human regulations. Human laws. Human lives. Right now I don't trust any non-Gryphon involved in military or government positions, besides Hutch and Commander Aston. April stays under my watch until this is done. After that you can start putting her through the appropriate foster-placement process, and I'll be content to follow the rules to the letter."
Lantry opened his mouth to object once more, and Fyrenn responded by hissing. The sound was low, and drawn out, and as it entered his ears, Lantry's skin blanched white as paper.
"I will not accept compromise on this point. If anyone is delusional enough to challenge me on this? I will have a 'pointed exchange' with then, and smear what's left all over the nearest flat surface like a Jackson Pollock. I will not warn you again. If you like your skin where it is Miles? I kindly advise you to *fuck.* *right.* *off.*"
Every being in the room understood the implication as Fyrenn dropped formal ranks in favor of Lantry's given name.
The General shook his head slowly, and exhaled.
"Sometimes I wonder if your kind is worth the hassle."
Neyla raised an eyebrow, and snorted.
"Sometimes we ask ourselves the same question about Humans. You are exceedingly lucky that we have, thus far, been generous in our response."
Varan set down his carafe just loudly enough to draw everyone's attention, then spoke calmly.
"Have we learned anything as-yet from the prisoners we took?"
Lantry shook his head and sighed in resignation.
"Nothing beyond the fact that they're all Earthgov active-duty reservists. Whoever runs their operation handles it like a terror cell. Soldiers know each other's identities within a cell, but know little or nothing about their superiors, the reasons for their orders, or anything going on in the other cells. Most of them are even claiming that they're part of a legitimate branch with over-riding authority."
Fyrenn scoffed into his coffee, and raised a claw to wipe dribbles away from the side of his beak.
"And you believe them?"
Lantry shrugged, his voice growing colder as he addressed the red Gryphon indirectly, unwilling to meet his burning golden eyes.
"Our interrogators say that the prisoners believe what they're saying. There have always been rumors about a secret Echelon of the military tasked with deeper-than black-book intelligence work, but if you ask me, its nothing more than that. Rumors."
The General finally glanced at Fyrenn, his tone growing passively aggressive once more.
"Which leads me to another question; How in the sam-hill did you know where to look for these little girls? What or who got you into this shit-heap of a mess in the first place?"
"That would be my fault."
All eyes snapped towards the cafeteria entrance. The sight of Hutch on his feet, one arm threaded through Aston's for support, brought smiles of varying degree to everyone's faces.
The Commander helped the General into a chair, and he sat down hard, breathing heavily from his exertions. Fyrenn poured a steaming mug of coffee from the central unused carafe, and passed the drink to Hutch with a small smile.
The General nodded appreciatively and took a long draught before continuing.
"The children Fyrenn found... He went after them at my behest. They, and others, were present during the Hamilton incident. They were trained and ordered to execute all witnesses, but I convinced them to do otherwise. I barely escaped with my life, and I had no desire to endanger theirs, or mine further by filing a report."
Lantry sighed again, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Is everyone in this command hell-bent on committing some form of insubordination this month?!"
Aston shrugged and offered a sardonic grimace as she took a seat, accepting a warm mug from Neyla in the process.
"I'm sure I can arrange to do something terribly naughty before the thirty first if you want to make it a holy trifecta."
Lantry glared, and raised an index finger.
"Can it, Commander. I already have enough problems with one mouthy subordinate. You don't have the benefit of a beak and claws to grant you leeway."
The elder General turned to Hutch, and scowled.
"You; File a report at the first available juncture, and leave nothing out this time."
He turned next to Fyrenn, and leveled a finger.
"You; Weapons to the armory as soon as you leave this room, and after that you're off active duty until I decide otherwise."
Finally, Lantry turned to Aston, glaring as he rose and straightened his jacket.
"And you; Try to be a good influence on these clowns instead of letting them rub off on you."
The General sighed, spun on one heel, and marched out of the room without saying another word. Hutch wisely chose to dismiss the outburst and change the topic as swiftly as possible.
"How is April?"
Fyrenn winced reflexively, and gripped his carafe tighter.
"Traumatized. Her sister was the only good thing she had in life, and the only real social contact she's ever had. She finally stopped crying around noon, but she wouldn't eat or speak. It was a struggle just to get water in her to stave off dehydration."
Skye finally spoke, relaxing as the tension in the room gradually dissipated with Lantry's exit.
"She held on to Fyrenn like he was her only anchor to sanity itself. They had to pry her off, literally, just to do a preliminary medical exam. After that, I don't think they've been apart until just now."
Kephic stared into the table, as if his eyes could bore through the plastic like twin lasers.
"Death is different when it is family, true... But it is incomprehensible when you have to witness it at a young age. It changes you. Permanently. And you have to decide pretty swiftly if that will be for better, or for worse."
Fyrenn offered his brother a consoling claw on his shoulder. He knew the speckled Gryphon spoke from direct and horrific experience.
Hutch leaned forward, clutching his mug in both hands and piercing Fyrenn with a serious gaze.
"Don't underestimate the way this affects *you* either. You had to see it too."
Neyla nodded slowly, and ducked her head around to force Fyrenn to lock eyes with her.
"And let me be the first to warn you; If you even think about blaming yourself for what happened to Sonya, I will thrash sense back into you using whatever means I deem necessary, and that *will* result in bruises."
Carradan chuckled slightly, while Skye and Kephic nodded their agreement. Fyrenn smiled wanly, and nodded. He lacked the energy for objection, to either Neyla or Stan.
Aston sat back, and sighed.
"It has been a hell of a day, and I mean that in the most literal sense possible."
Varan nodded sagely, and inclined his head.
"The Commander is wise in her implication. We should all be resting while we may, so that we will be prepared to carry on this struggle tomorrow."
Fyrenn rose, and grimaced.
"No kidding. Assuming I can get the memories off the back of my eyes long enough to keep them closed."
"One standard issue rail-SMG, RAC-9 minus scope... Any grenades knives or other unconventional weapons?"
Fyrenn shook his head as he dropped the rifle and extra-large machine pistol onto the armory counter.
"No."
The red Gryphon followed the staff Sergeant's eyes to the hilt of his sword, and growled.
"Nothing that belongs to you, at any rate."
The man gestured silently to a subordinate, who snapped up the projectile weapons and took them behind the counter for disassembly and cleaning.
He crossed his arms, and did his best to offer Fyrenn a stern face.
"General Lantry came down here, in person, to deliver specific orders; We are to relieve you of every weapon 'cept the ones the good Lord built right into you."
Fyrenn reached over his shoulder and tapped the hilt of the blade, raising an eyebrow slowly.
"I forged this weapon. I've carried it into places and situations where even your best armaments would fail. It never leaves my side. You want my sword? Feel free to step around that counter and ask me again. But I won't pay for your coffin. Or for them to stitch what's left to you back together so they can bury you in something roughly approximating 'one piece.' What belongs to me? Stays with me."
The man sighed, and waved Fyrenn off with one hand.
"Given the choice between the General taking off my head metaphorically, or you taking it off literally, I'll stick with the safe bet."
The Gryphon nodded, and flashed the man a predatory smile.
"Smart choice."
As the night dragged on, Fyrenn's world collapsed into a continuous haze of painful reds, oranges, and yellows. His nightmares, for once, were not so much coherent images as a tidal wave of raw boundless emotions which were not yet fully dealt with. Truly restful sleep was utterly impossible.
At last, however, one sharp object resolved itself in the fog. Achingly familiar, and painfully close. Yet somehow not quite close enough to touch.
Fyrenn did his best to focus on Sonya's face. To reach out. To speak, or even perk his ears and listen. But she remained silent. Little more than an effigy staring dolefully into his eyes.
When the Gryphon finally managed to gain control of his ethereal claws, the haze abruptly snapped away into darkness, which nearly instantly gave way in turn to the relieving sight of a familiar gray wall panel.
Fyrenn blinked several times, and sighed deeply before rotating his head left enough to bring the room's windows into view.
He judged the time to be late morning, based on the angle of the Equestrian sunlight. The tone of the clear golden rays mixed with the dim gray of the Earthly sky in a peculiar way. It felt as if there were some sort of impending storm rising eternally in the west.
Fyrenn stretched and spent a long moment indulging an enormous yawn. Only after he had rolled his shoulders and stretched his wings several more times, did the significance of the late-morning sun hit him fully.
He rose abruptly and made his way to the door, pausing only to retrieve his sword, scabbard, and the leather straps to secure it in the absence of armor.
As he descended towards the lobby in the lift, he absently set about securing the weapon to his back. His thoughts were split between the images of his fitful half-sleep, and concern over April. Threading the various buckles required to secure his sword had become such a fixed morning routine, that his claws practically did the work without any intervention from his brain.
The moment the lift doors opened, Fyrenn shot out like a cannonball, forcing himself to reduce his pace to a fast walk as he encountered the morning cafeteria crowd.
He did his best to avoid the steady stream of Humans and Ponies as he ducked and weaved his way towards the nearest corridor.
As he reached the door to the staff lounge, he steeled himself mentally. Without pausing or knocking, he barreled into the room at top speed. The sight before him brought him up short in confusion, and relief.
Clustered around the central table, April, Neyla, and Varan were busy devouring a large breakfast of synthetic meat strips, fresh fruit, and warm bread.
Fyrenn carefully probed April's visage as he moved across the room at a more sedate pace.
The young girl was eating, which Fyrenn considered to be major progress. Her face was, on the surface, neutral. But below the relatively calm visage lurked a thousand subtle signs of pain, fear, and outright depression.
From the glaze in her eyes, to the pallor in her skin, and the taut muscles in her shoulders, April practically exuded emotional warning signs. She glanced up from her spot between the other two Gryphons, and offered Fyrenn a small, sad smile. The simplicity of the gesture pierced Fyrenn in a way he was completely unprepared for.
Before he knew it, he found himself squeezing between his brother, and Neyla, simultaneously scooping April into a brief hug, and then a protected position between his forelegs.
As the child continued to slowly, but steadily devour the contents of her plate, Fyrenn shot silent looks of thanks towards Neyla and Varan.
A long moment of quiet companionship passed, punctuated only by a series of gentle exchanges as Neyla and Varan passed Fyrenn the makings of his own breakfast.
When the red Gryphon had consumed a sufficient quantity of food to quench his morning hunger pangs, he glanced down at April with the most cheerful smile he could genuinely summon.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. I overslept."
April once again flashed a slight, childish, achingly sad smile.
"That's ok. You were up later than I was. Neyla was there. She introduced me to your brother... Or at least one of them."
Fyrenn chuckled wryly, and shook his head slowly.
"Varan is the sane one, and he's probably the lion's share of the family's self control. When he's funny, we can't tell if he means it, or if he's being clueless. Kephic is... Well he's always almost always being funny on some level."
April glanced back and forth between Neyla and Fyrenn, before squinting slightly, and tilting her head.
"She's not related to you?"
Neyla shook her head.
"No. But we've been good friends for almost four years."
Fyrenn smiled slightly, and nodded down at April.
"You can trust her. I know I do."
April nodded firmly, and speared the last of her fruit pieces with her fork.
"I know. She's a Gryphon like you."
Varan raised an eyebrow, and thrummed deep in his chest approvingly.
"Smart girl."
Fyrenn carefully extricated himself, and rose, stretching once more to get the last of his morning muscle tension out. He reached out, scooped up April in one claw, and deposited her over his right shoulder onto his back.
She giggled ever so slightly, and though the moment was gone in an instant, the sound warmed the red Gryphon's heart in a way that made the entire world seem to glow.
"Come on. You need to meet the rest of our little family."
Flanked protectively by Neyla and Varan, Fyrenn made his way carefully back to the lift. Once the group was stationary, and the compartment had begun to rise, the red Gryphon spared a glance over his shoulder.
April's eyes were as wide as tea saucers. Her head pivoted almost mechanically as she tried desperately to take in the scope of the crowd below.
Fyrenn realized that her revelatory experience was in many ways similar to the one he had experienced as part of his Conversion. April's world had been dim, lonely, and enclosed for the majority of her waking life.
Suddenly, she was surrounded by vast well-lit swooping architecture, and bustling crowds of lively people. Humans, Ponies, Gryphons, a few Dragons, and even the very occasional Lupine or Minotaur.
To her young mind the sights were quite literally the most astonishing thing in the world, by an incredible margin.
Fyrenn winced as the girl's expression fell abruptly. He realized that she was thinking of Sonya. Wishing she could have shared in the moment. He squeezed his neck and shoulder together gently, momentarily burying April halfway into his neck feathers.
She reached out and clung tightly to his head, only letting go when the lift reached its destination, and the doors hissed open.
Kephic stood in the corridor, waiting to greet the quartet as they exited the carriage. He put on his best charming smile, and waved towards April with one claw.
"Good morning!"
Fyrenn smiled, and disembarked April from his shoulder. As she glanced upwards at the speckled Gryphon, he knelt, and offered her a claw.
"I'm Kephic."
April stepped forward cautiously, ignoring the proffered claw, and instead opting for a quick, coy embrace of Kephic's neck before stepping back, and flashing a wan, sheepish smile.
Kephic blinked rapidly, then let out a half chuckle, and an embarrassed smile. He jerked a claw towards the conference room at the end of the hallway.
"Hutch, Aston, and the others are waiting."
As Neyla and Varan made their way to the entryway, shepherding April between them, Kephic leaned over and whispered in Fyrenn's ear.
"That kid is bad for our cynicism."
Fyrenn shot his brother a slight grin in return.
"Good."