//------------------------------//
// Epilogue 
// Story: Hegira: Eternal Delta 
// by Guardian_Gryphon 
//------------------------------//

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

"Severe riots continued to rock Vancouver, Baltimore, Singapore, London, and Sydney today as the gulf between pro-Humanist, and pro-Equestrian parties in the Council widened further, stalling useful political compromise.  Protesters marching under the now-familiar emblem of a red Gryphon torched the Sydney offices of Earthgov, and issued savage beatings to several government officials in the streets, when it was discovered that their names were on a list of officials whom Echelon Twelve had approached about starting a second cybernetics program.  Meanwhile counter-rioters in London and Baltimore released tear gas in the Conversion Bureaus of both cities, forcing a temporary evacuation of the facilities, and there have been many reports of looting and vandalism in areas of both cities where the Equestrian population is greatest in density.  From Baltimore, for GNN, I'm Scott Cantrell."

Hutch narrowed his eyes in concern, and reached for the volume control, tapping it several times as the images on the holoscreen cycled away from the sight of burning cars and smoking buildings, back to the gleaming façade of the GNN newsroom.

"Thanks Scott.  This evening, in the GNN newsroom, we have analysts from both sides of the debate, here to present the two sides of this uniquely polarizing issue, and to give us a peek as to how we can expect this situation to unfold.  I want to start with---"

Aston snorted, and reached across the desk to press the mute control.  Hutch raised an eyebrow, and sat back in his chair.

"You don't approve?"

Aston shook her head as she spoke, turning to glare out the window at the Charlotte skyline's brilliant evening lights.

"Of the pundits and special interest groups?  Never.  Not even when I agree with them.  And I hate that they get coverage.  It only spurs the idiotic masses on to greater feats of stupidity.  More shouting matches, less work being *actually* accomplished.  None of these pundits care about the issues.  Just the ratings."

Hutch leaned forward again, and scanned his terminal as a new message appeared at the top of the queue, accompanied by a soft tone.  After a moment, he glanced around the screen, and offered Aston a slight smile.

"Well this ought to cheer you up.  We've received marching orders directly from JRSF command.  We're going to be helo'd first-class to the Yorktown, for a high level series of talks and action panels.  Representatives from every race in the Accords have been summoned.  By the Gryphons."

Aston whistled, and twisted the screen around to read for herself.  Her eyes widened as she took in the content of the message, and she inclined her head.

"Well...  I guess they really are going to pull the trigger, and dissolve the military as we knew it."

Hutch sighed, and laced his fingers together, placing his hands behind his head.

"It sure does look that way.  Not that they have a choice at this point.  But you can bet it won't end quietly.  The Council is digging in their heels something fierce."

Further discussion of the topic was sidelined as a loud knock sounded at the office door.  Hutch rose, and stepped across the interim space, pressing the control panel to unlock the glass panels.

A corpsman stood at attention, lugging an enormous steel crate on a dolly behind him.  The package was far longer than it was tall, or wide.

"Sir!  Reporting as ordered with a priority delivery for General Hutchinson sir!"

Hutch raised an eyebrow, and nodded.

"At ease corpsman.  Who's it from?"

The man shook his head, and offered Hutch a DaTab, and a stylus.

"Doesn't say sir.  It's marked as a privileged diplomatic pouch.  Your eyes only.  Please sign and affix your right thumbprint."

Hutch lazily drafted his signature, then depressed his right thumb on the screen until it cheerfully beeped acceptance.  He handed the DaTab back to the officer, and saluted.

"Thank you.  Dismissed Corpsman."

As the man marched away, still holding himself in the ramrod straight attention pose, Hutch wheeled the dolly into the temporary office space, and shut the door behind him.

Aston snorted, and gestured with one thumb.

"You sure you want to open it?"

The General nodded, and smiled as he pulled the heavy object from the dolly, and set it lengthwise on his desk, gesturing to a small red stylized Gryphon emblem stamped on one corner of the container.  The crate filled the entire working surface, and spilled out several feet on either side to boot.

"I have an idea of what it might be, and who it might be from."

Hutch placed both thumbs on the crate's dual biometric locks.  After a pause, they hissed, clanked, and released.  The general flung open the lid, and a smile immediately spread over his visage.

Aston stood, leaned over his shoulder, and chuckled as she beheld the sight within.  Behind a thick plexiglass panel, cushioned by custom-cut closed cell foam, sat Fyrenn's Hellraiser rifle, complete with the bipod enabling Human use.  A small yellow sticky note was affixed to one corner of the package's inner surface, with a simple two-line message.

'In case of Emergency;
Break Glass, Raise Hell.  -F'

Hutch chuckled, and shook his head slowly.

"I always did want a good conversation piece to mount on my back wall..."





"Ma'am?  Here are those fitreps you asked for."

Martins nodded and waved absently, pausing to offer a polite smile to her assistant.

"Thank you Astris, just leave them somewhere in the ever expanding lovely explosive mess otherwise known as my desk."

The Unicorn nodded, and levitated the stack of DaTabs onto a pile of existing tablets and papers, grimacing as he noted the shabby condition of Martins' desk.  He paused on his way to the door, and turned to glance at the Councilor expectantly.

"Are we really going to go through with it so soon?"

Martins glanced up, and nodded, her eyes as somber as her tone.

"We haven't got a choice anymore.  After the mess in the Atlantic, projections say we lost anywhere between eight and ten months of time.  Crewed tests of the drive will proceed by the end of the month."

Astris nodded, and stepped through the door, pausing abruptly as another thought occurred to him.

"Are we still operating under need-to-know conditions ma'am?"

Martins looked up once more, steely resolve readily visible in her eyes, alongside deep concern.

"Given the fallout from recent events?  The riots?  The ongoing political maelstrom?  Yes Astris.  Yes we are."





"I know this has been a difficult month for us all.  Most of you who are embedded in government or military positions have been discovered already...  And those who haven't are being evacuated as we speak, even now."

Mrs. Juno pursed her lips, folded her arms, and turned to address the cabinet members assembled before her.  Retribution had once been their home under dire circumstances.  During normal operations procedures, the bunker under Cheyenne Mountain had provided a more fully fledged command center.

Both facilities were lost to the HLF.  As such, the quarters were cold, and cramped, barely large enough to fit the assembled members.  It helped reduce the sense of emptiness resulting from the sudden decrease in their numbers.

Mrs. Juno placed both hands in her pockets, for the sake of warmth, as she paced at the head of the austere steel conference table.

"To make a frank assessment of the damage;  Mr. Utah is dead.  Killed in action.  Mr. Stalin took his life not long ago.  Mr. Churchill, known to the world as Brigadier General Stimson, will soon be in grave danger, if not in custody."

The woman paused, and allowed the information to sink in.  A series of charged whispers encircled the room.  Mrs. Juno raised her voice slightly to regain everyone's attention.

"Mr. Argus remains loyal to us, but his position is precarious at best.  Especially considering that his colleague, Mrs. Truman has gone silent.  We believe she may have defected, and sought political asylum and immunity through her status as a Councilor."

A shocked hush fell over the room, punctuated only by the dull thrum of the fluorescent ceiling lamps.

Mrs. Juno delivered her final verbal blows with barely a hint of the ambition concealed behind her eyes.

"Mrs. Daladier was killed yesterday morning during a Gryphon mercenary raid on her Mayoral residence.  Mr. Eisenhower is in custody as of this afternoon.  Accounting for other recent casualties, that leaves only the personnel in this room, in terms of remaining Cabinet members, with the exception of Mr. Argus."

Mrs. Juno listed off each name as she shifted her gaze around the perimeter of the table to lock eyes with each cabinet member.

"Ms. Corsair, Mr. Mustang, Mrs. Stuka, Mr. Hurricane, Mr. Akagi, Ms. Aquila, Mr. Colossus, Mrs. Gold, Dr. Omaha, and lastly myself."

The woman paused, and placed both hands firmly on her hips as she stared out at the group.

"Protocols of succession place me at the head of the Cabinet, starting now.  As of this moment?  You work for me.  I'll be sitting down with my new associates in command section, Dr. Omaha and Mr. Akagi, to divide the rest of you up into new sections and positions."

Mrs. Juno folded her arms, and took a seat at the head of the table as she continued.

"Right now, we're here to draft a new set of contingency protocols and measures.  The Front is ailing.  We've made some serious errors, largely as a result of leadership too caught up in idealism and ridiculously overbloated plans with too many moving parts."

Mrs. Juno sat back, and leveled a finger at the assembled Cabinet members.

"From here on in?  We are the resistance.  And we will treat the situation as such.  There are lessons to be learned from those who went through situations like this before.  Hamas.  The French Resistance during the Second World War.  Al Qaeda.  The Taliban.  The Egyptian Brotherhood.  EXCET.  Daesh...  Even the PER."

The woman leaned forward, placing both hands firmly on the cold surface of the table.

"We will adapt.  We will embrace nimble, cellular, effective terror practices.  We will accept the practical limitations of our situation, and we will exploit every advantage to be had.  As of now, there are no ethics but those of survival.  No rules, but the basic law of Human supremacy.  Here, or in their world.  Humanus Pro Vita!"

The assembled members nodded vigorously, and lifted their fisted hands high.

"Humanus Pro Vita!"





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

In The Darkness, the void of voids, the space between, the voice of the one-who-would-lead rang out.  Gilt like a belt of shimmering stars, yet as inky as the bottom of a singularity itself, each word reverberating and quaking the very foundation of the space, as if spoken within a cathedral.

"The way for our designs is open!  The six return to Equestrian lands, and you stand ready to destroy them.  The Avatars of Sun and Moon are spent.  Weakened.  Ripe for destruction!  Our adversaries claw at each other's throats, and bleed in the dirt, while we forge the foundation of their very undoing!"

The one-who-would-lead paused, and a current of electrifying suspense ran through the Dispossessed.  Her next words seemed to summon forth the very gates of hell itself, laced with a malice bred for eons upon eons.

"The Humans know nothing of the coming darkness.  They walk willingly as lambs to a slaughter.  Their factions know nothing of our manipulations.  And now the great implements upon which our hosts rely, are in our possession at last!"

An image materialized in the void.  A hardened strongbox, secured against a basaltic stone floor, its locks rent asunder as if by the very claws of the Devil.  Inside, six colored gems glittered, each set into a piece of golden ornamental jewelry.

"Behold!  The Elements of Harmony.  Now ours, weapons for the coming reign of night-eternal!"





The moon peeked over the horizon, a tiny crescent of liquid silver that set the wisps of cloud high above aglow.  The suspended ice crystals swooped up and away into the otherwise clear expanse, lofted on high altitude breezes that kept the temperature, and humidity, comfortably low.

Fyrenn alit on the small outcropping of rock, followed in short order by Alyra, Kephic, Neyla, and Varan.  The latter deposited Skye momentarily, allowing the Unicorn to stretch her legs, and revel for a moment in the cool, bright evening air.

Alyra bounded to the edge of the outcropping and stared out at the glimmering vista above, and beyond, utterly transfixed.

Tih’ré Seli’hn sparkled with the lights from thousands of hearth-fires, candles, and mage-lamps.  The golden hued, inviting shades of luminescence spilled out over the side of the mountain in the same shape as the city itself, filling the small mountain glen beneath with a welcoming aura that was visible to the naked eye.

Alyra finally managed to find words as Fyrenn made his way up the outcrop to stand beside her.  She glanced up at her father, and smiled with and expression of excitement and peace deeper than any he had yet seen on her beak.

"This is home?!  We get to live here?!"

Fyrenn nodded, and placed one wing over his daughter, smiling and exhaling as a deep sense of peace flooded his own heart.  Neyla, Skye, and his brothers came to stand beside him as he nodded slowly, speaking softly so as not to shatter the moment.

"Yes.  This is home."

He directed his smile down at the fledgling, and pulled her closer with his wing.

"Welcome home."






Pre-Readers (Past and Present) for This Story Alphabetically:
Airstream
DogfoodAndGlue
frieD195
rigomi123


Fyrenn and the rest will return in:



Coming Soon!

Special thanks to: 
Xzeron2000, 
and WestphalianMusketeer 
for helpful insight and thoughts.






Veritas released the threads of reality that bound her perceptions to the void of voids, relinquishing the constant energized thrum of the Dispossessed for the relative silence of her office.

The Unicorn paused to reacquaint herself with the bodily senses of her host form, before rising, and releasing a deep sigh.  The host had long ago given up on fighting a constant battle for control, but Veritas sometimes found that she still tried to reassert herself, feebly, after a prolonged projection session.

Veritas had been with the host so long, that its form had been fully imbued with her ability to shift phases at will.  The Unicorn's coat and mane had even changed in response to Veritas' presence, much like her previous hosts forms had shifted.  

But she still found that she had to leave some part of it behind whenever she took her mind to the void.

Veritas exhaled once more, and let herself out into the corridor, striding slowly but steadily towards her destination through the nondescript warren of brightly-lit passages.  She turned left at a heavily reinforced door, marked with a colored stripe, and placed one hoof into a receptacle to unlock the sealing mechanism.

The Unicorn stepped into the darkened chamber, and paused to admire the long rows of vertically oriented tanks.  She stood, and counted backwards mentally, synchronizing her cadence to the clock at the opposite end of the ominous chamber.

When her countdown reached its end, the lights began to spring to life, segment by segment, activating above each tube as the machinery above spun down, and the glass fronts popped open with the hiss of equalizing pressure.

One by one, the occupants of the devices began to step out, each taking up a position of respectful attention in front of their tube.  An external observer would have mistaken them for simple Ponies.  Pegasi, Earth Ponies, and Unicorns lined up in two long rows.

Such an external observer would have certainly noticed that the beings seemed to lack the traditional energy, and vitality of the Equid species.  Otherwise, no change was initially apparent.

Veritas walked past each, inspecting them silently in turn, until she had come to the end of the line.  She turned to face the two ranks once again, as she had a dozen times before, and her eyes sprang to life with an eerie red light.

A deep blue menacing aura formed around her, and as she stared out at her servants, identical signs began to manifest on each.  A dark aura of energy, and bright red eyes, testifying to the demon hidden beneath.  The Wisp controlling each body.

Veritas nodded, and a small smile crept onto her muzzle as she spoke.

"You have your tasks.  Set to them.  Destroy the Humans' alternatives.  Bring the Genesists low."