Hegira: Rising Omega

by Guardian_Gryphon

Chapter 9

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

"No."

Celestia shook her head once, firmly, somehow managing to convey more depth of finality in a single motion, than even the spoken word itself could carry. The graceful arc of her study's extensive silken draperies, framed by the morning sun, lent her seat an almost throne-like aspect that further reinforced her perceived position.

Luna raised an eyebrow, swiveled her gaze slowly to fix her sister in a glare, and spoke with equal finality in spite of the circumstances.

"Yes."

In response to aghast blinks, and flattened ears from her elder sister, the night Princess elaborated, with no less surety for having to stare down her sibling's frustrated muzzle.

The Gryphons, Stan, Shining, and IJ remained silent, with forced masks of impassivity, allowing the Lunar Monarch to advocate for them.

"I've seen enough. Enough death, and suffering, and fear... One of our own is dead. Here. In what should be the place not only of greatest honor, but also safety, for one of his station. Guests, too, have been slain at the hooves of our enemies. On our watch, sister."

Luna exchanged sorrowful, yet steely moments of shared anger, and mourning with both IJ, and Shining as she drove her case home with surprising anger, and fervor.

"I say 'Enough.' We have a duty to protect those we serve. We're not being asked to raise an army for invasion, or conquest. We have allies to defend our borders."

The blue Alicorn shot each Gryphon in turn a knowing glance.

"We're being asked to train our city's defenders to stop being mere figureheads, and truly face foes; As they increasingly must in these dark times. If we leave them defenseless now? Having allies to defend our borders will make no difference in the end. We will fall as surely as a once sturdy wooden beam falls to rot from within, and brings down a castle in the process."

Sildinar inclined his head, and artfully delivered the final lynchpin of the argument, as if to tie off the metaphorical package with a neat bow.

"Of course, we will also be able to bring the immediate threat to a close at the same time. This is by far our best path to achieving that goal, before more blood is needlessly shed."

To the shock of all assembled in the study, Luna included, Celestia's face fell; Not to an expression of anger, or disappointment, or concern, or even deep thought, but to an expression that her sister had seldom, if ever seen on the Solar Monarch's muzzle.

An expression of defeat.

Her ears fell flat, as did her tail, and her wings slumped.

It even seemed to the Gryphons' acute gaze, that Celestia's radiance itself, both in her mane, and to a lesser extent her brilliant coat, diminished slightly.

After a protracted moment of silence, in which only the sounds of breathing could be heard, the older Alicorn finally nodded slowly. When words came forth to accompany the gesture, it almost sounded as if Celestia had aged a decade from exhaustion, and sorrow.

"There is no escaping it then. We must do whatever will grant us the greatest chance at peace, and the most lives spared, over the long term. And... You are, all of you, right. As much as I have wished, and prayed, and willed it not to be so."

At last, Celestia raised her head, ears perked; Defeat's dour frown replaced with steely, pragmatic, thin-lipped resolve.

"What do you need to begin?"

Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
December 8th, Gregorian Calendar

Neyla

"This is either madness..."

Martins tapped one finger firmly against the table-top display, slowly, rhythmically, causing subtle vibrations to ripple across the hologram projected above it.

"...Or brilliance. Did you sleep at all last night?"

The dull blue and green glow of the projection was the only illumination in the office, casting Martins, Fyrenn, myself, Alyra, Skye, and Astris in an almost alien aspect.

With a snort, I shook my head.

"No. And it is madness either way."

I shot Fyrenn the briefest of emotion-filled glances. He briefly, but visibly struggled to pick my stare apart, apparently finding my empathy for his silent struggle to be the only readily discernible thread. It was the most important one by far.

He nodded, and chimed in warmly.

"That being said, it is also brilliance. Either way."

Alyra winked at me, then glanced up at her father, beaming, her adoration and amusement ringing out clearly and simply.

"That's the kind of warrior she is. Smart and decisive."

The words lent fuel to the fires in my soul, a warm joy suffusing my chest in the process.

Martins nodded slowly, and stared into the hologram detailing my proposal. Her voice betrayed little sentiment, beyond her exhaustion, and her curiosity.

"That is why I asked you all here... A little sleep-deprived madness is just what you need when your back is against the wall. It confuses the hell out of your enemies."

Astris cocked his head sharply, and blinked. His voice was full of undisguised shock, and thinly veiled disdain. My opinion of him was falling every time he opened his muzzle.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but you cannot seriously be considering this. They're asking you to effectively bet the future of this whole endeavour on the roll of a dice!"

Skye's head whipped to the side, before Fyrenn or I could even finish drawing breath to phrase a response. I shot him an amused, but firm glance coded to say 'No; Let her speak.'

Speak the little tan unicorn did, with abrasive forthrightness, and a sharp warning edge that pervaded both word, and expression. Sometimes I swear that she was a Gryphon in-spirit. Certainly a sister to us all, Gryphon and otherwise, in our little family.

"Listen, telescope-boy, I have had it up to the end of my horn with your sucky attitude!"

Skye jabbed a hoof firmly into Astris' chest, nearly eliciting a chuckle from Alyra. Fyrenn brushed his daughter lightly with the edge of one flight primary; A tiny admonition to keep her mirth to herself, until later.

I found I had to admonish myself internally quite similarly. I wanted to break out in outright laughter, but I grit my beak nonetheless.

The tan Unicorn's rant continued unabated.

"I have been to HELL and back with this messed-up little family of mine. If they say go, you go. If they say stay, you stay. And if they say jump, you jump, and you don't worry about what's below. Hesitate, and you're lost. Gamble? Sure. But we never leave things entirely to chance. That's an exaggeration designed to make you look smarter than you are."

Skye leaned in, her tone dropping to a rumble, as the heat of her breath forced Astris to blink rapidly.

"Put on some brown pants if you have to, but now is NOT the time for platitudes, or by-the-numbers horse-shit. These people you're facing? I worked deep cover inside their ranks. I know exactly what's coming for you, and if they find you equivocating, or cowering, they'll steamroll you, and make the rest of this miserable planet suffer just to spite us all!"

For a brief moment the only sound in Martins' office was the soft trill of the computer, and the hushed whirr of ventilation.

The Councilor herself finally cut the tension, her mind clearly made up. Her visage seemed to almost be chiseled from granite, with each crease and wrinkle illuminated in sharp blue relief. For the first time, I realized how old, and how tired, the woman truly was underneath her mask of determination.

Her voice, however, sounded young, fresh, and as adamant as her expression.

"We should get started. The logistical gymnastics on this deadline would be hard under normal circumstances, let alone pulling it off while keeping each part of the operation compartmentalized."

Fyrenn nodded, and inclined his head, inhaling deeply to steel himself before speaking. In his heart of hearts, I knew he felt an impending sense of fear, and nervousness. The same one I was feeling.

Many lives were about to be placed in our claws, and we knew it all too well.

"You'll notice some missing details upon further review. Some of the final troop placement positions, altitude and heading information, exact numbers for munitions distribution, and certain command sequence timings. Only Neyla, Skye, and I will know these details. They're not even written down. We will relay them to field commanders individually at the last possible moment."

I nodded, and placed one claw on the edge of the holotable, staring thoughtfully at a starship schematic suspended amongst the data.

"I will be taking over the bombing investigation together with Skye. We'll be working either alone, or with the aid of other Gryphons from your colonial security corps as-needed. Nothing of our investigation will be written down, or digitally recorded, until after the launch. Even our discussions with you will omit certain details at our discretion."

Martins nodded once firmly.

"Wise precaution."

Astris' eyes looked, for a brief moment, as if they would pop from their sockets.

"WHAT?! You're talking about thousands of lives! About fuel bottles full of ANTIMATTER! About millions of moving parts, both living and mechanical! And you want to keep details SECRET?! The Councilor and I have the right to know---"

Martins held up a hand for silence, glaring sharply at her assistant. The force of the gesture alone cut off his panicked, offended verbal stream.

When she was sure she had clear air, Martins spoke once more.

"What if the PER are inside our computer systems? They have an exceedingly advanced technological arsenal at their disposal. And who is to say they haven't found a way to bug one of us in a way we can't detect? In spite of all our efforts over the past years, they've always been able to get the better of us, Astris. This is the only sure way to beat them at their own game."

The Councilor fixed her eyes even more firmly on Astris' as she finished the admonition, as if trying to burrow into his very soul, and get her point across.

"My mind is made up. We follow Neyla's new plan. End of discussion. Get started."

I worried that the vote of confidence was premature.

But I was glad of it all the same.

Fyrenn

"Gantry Crews, Report to bay seven, frames two-twenty and two-fifty-five."

My left ear twitched reflexively, making minute adjustments to help me filter the sound of the PA from the drone of turbine engines, the whine of electric motors, the dull but insistent thrum of voices, and the hiss of hydraulics.

The complex didn't just sound as though it were alive; It felt, and looked, and even smelt of energy. Neyla's plan had thrown everything into an organized, but tense, and frenzied turmoil.

A mental image sprang unbidden into my mind; An ant-hill, kicked over, and teeming with workers on all sides. To the uninitiated observer it would look like a chaotic mess, but to a keen watcher the patterns' logistical genius would be revealed.

"Ordinance crew SZ-43 to receiving area Beta nine. Security detail 'Blackjack,' report to terminal gate E-9."

Sensing tiny shifts in airflow, somehow just before they happened, I extended one wing to shield Alyra. A moment later, a stiff gust of grit-filled wind pelted the pair, and a thunderous roar split the sky. I'd long since given up trying to figure out the exact science behind how I could detect changes in the air faster than the speed of light, let alone the speed of a shock front.

Skye understood, and that was enough for me. That, and repeated uses of the words 'quantum' and 'tachyonic.' I had some vague idea what they meant.

Seconds later the storm abated, and the huge passenger aircraft that had caused it touched down on the runway, whipping around the corner onto the taxiway as soon as it had bled sufficient speed.

A dozen similar jets were already being shuffled in and out of the colonist receiving terminal, and the new arrival dutifully took its place in line.

I glanced over my shoulder, and noted seven others just like it stacked up in a holding pattern, waiting for a free landing slot.

Alyra squinted through the settling dust, curiously eyeing the huge lines of eager Humans, Gryphons, Ponies, Zebra, and other assorted creatures making their way out of the terminal.

The Humans were clad in dark navy jumpsuits, with a patch denoting their ship on one shoulder, and a department color emblazoned on their collars. They were the majority of the crowd, but not by as much as I would have expected.

The other beings wore navy sashes, with colored piping, and the patch sewn above the left breast.

Everyone was carrying a small gray duffel bag; I knew it probably contained the only personal possessions that each individual would be allowed to take. There was a general air of drowsiness about many of the colonists, and I realized that a large number would have been abruptly rousted from sleep, and bundled onto an aircraft in the dead of night.

I also knew each colonist, regardless of species, origin, specialization, or rank, was being searched, scanned, and intensively questioned before being granted entry to the complex.

Their belongings were doubtless being thermally scanned, X-rayed, LIDAR-imaged, and hand-searched as well.

Neyla had insisted that even the clothes they arrived with be incinerated. Nothing was being allowed into the facility that couldn't be fully accounted for, and certified inert. No one was being allowed any means to smuggle objects in, not even something as tiny as a sheaf of paper.

"It's strange."

I raised an eyebrow at my Daughter's statement as I reached the side of the main Armory structure, and keyed one talon against the door's DNA scanner.

"A lot of things about this are strange."

Alyra nodded, and one ear flattened in mild consternation, the other pricking up and twitching at a particularly sharp whine from a distant servo.

"Sure... But the strangest thing, to me, is how this will all seem to them..."

She jerked one thumb talon across the tarmac at the lines of waiting colonists as she elaborated.

"Imagine being woken up at oh-two-hundred local, being flown six and a half hours around the planet to this facility non-stop on a crammed military-style flight, spending three hours on security, two on medical check in... You then immediately get loaded into a cryo-tray, and then you wake up."

I paused midway down the entry corridor, sidestepping to make room for a group of Humans and Earth Ponies shoving an immense munitions cart.

Alyra finished the last of her thoughts as she darted out of their way, to my side.

"You wake up on the other side of the galaxy, and all of this? That abrupt wake-up call? Your last hurried memories of Earth or Equestria? The exhaustion? The confusion? The hectic back-and-forth? The launch, if you're flight crew? That was five minutes ago for you. And then you have to go and build a new life. On a new world. Knowing that everyone you knew who isn't waking up with you died over a century ago if they were Human. Or is a lot older than you now if not. And that either way you'll never see them again."

An involuntary shiver ran down my spine, branching out into the edges of my wings as well. I shook myself physically to ward off the pins and needles, doing my best to keep a level, self-assured tone.

"On a beautiful, vibrant new planet. Sure. It's strange, but it's also wonderful. I have to admit, I envy these people in some ways. I always wanted to explore space... And I miss extranet connectivity."

Alyra smirked, and shook her head as we arrived before the low-slung, thirty yard wide entry to the armor bay.

"Given the length of their trip, Skye will have us setup with terabit extranet connections before they're halfway to planet-fall."

I raised a talon, and one eyebrow, adopting a mock-chiding tone, and expression.

"Ah, but as you astutely pointed out, to them it won't feel like any time at all."

"Hey! Feather Dusters! Over here!"

I waved acknowledgement to Hutch and Aston, paused to allow a munitions cart to zip past, then darted across the armor bay with Alyra in tow.

The space was barely two stories tall, and twenty yards wide, but it was nearly four hundred yards long. One side was mostly given over to an access aisle, while the other was filled with recessed alcoves.

Each alcove contained a bevy of mechanical arms, glowing emitters, and other related, enigmatic, equipment. I found my eyes drawn inexorably to Hutch, and Aston however, and the new suits of armor that adorned them.

I liked what I saw, even at first cursory glance.

"What's all this then?"

I tapped lightly at Hutch's left shoulder pauldron with one talon, perplexed by the odd specularity, and surface texture of the plating. It didn't conform to any ceramic, nor any metal that I had ever seen.

Aston shrugged, and hefted a large carbine as she spoke. The weapon looked as if it were related to a standard RAC-7 railgun, in the same way a compound bow was related to a stick drawn back with a three stranded string.

"We're here to prevent casualties. Sometimes the best way to do that is to inflict them on the enemy. It isn't, strictly speaking, against our orders... And it's really the only way we can go on keeping an eye on you."

Chuckling slightly, I shook my head, glancing sideways at my daughter as she began her own examination of the nearest armor bay.

"No, no... I mean what's the story on this new armor? It doesn't look like anything I've ever seen, even in an R&D lab."

Aston snorted and gestured to the nearest open alcove.

"It's been a while since you had a look inside an R&D lab. And the Genesists have the best on the planet."

I raised an eyebrow, and Hutch grinned, elaborating as he began to work the alcove's control panel with only slight hesitation to betray his inexperience.

"EarthGovMil, and JRSF alike, have to use taxpayer money. And we both have to suffer through the slog of the military acquisitions process. These guys have corporate backing, and government backing, both reaching into the trillions, but much less oversight. No red tape. No spend limits. The bleeding edge goes a long way, when you can pay."

I glanced up at the armatures slowly coming to life inside the alcove, and raised one eyebrow. Aston gestured expansively, as if ushering a nobleman through a palace door.

With a sigh, I rose to my hind legs and stepped onto the alcove's central pad, turning to face outwards, and placing my back paws onto two yellow circular outlines denoting the location for one's feet, paws, or other rear limbs when standing bipedally.

Being ambipedal, and flighted, was in my not so humble, nor in any way unbiased opinion, the very best limb configuration ever invented.

Machinery sprang fully to life in an instant, stretching out dozens of mechanical limbs, most of which disappeared into hidden slots in the walls, ceiling, and floor of the bay. From above, blue holographic scan lines descended, imaging my body instantly down to the millimeter.

My beak, jaw, and talons thrummed slightly in reciprocity to the beam's resonance.

For a moment, machinery beneath the floor whirred, and an irregular hum of unfamiliar energy filled the air. Then the armatures returned from their slots, bearing a cornucopia of shaped armor plates.

In the blink of an eye, sturdy gray textured plating covered my back, chest, wing-joints, and legs, with a half-helm finishing off the light-armor ensemble. As the arms retracted, their task complete, the suit's wrist mounted holo-display blinked to life.

What happened next left Alyra and I both speechless, in spite of the many unconventional technologies we had seen, and experienced.

Seemingly from nowhere, accompanied only by a brief blue-green flash of energy, new armor plates appeared, springing forth as if by magic, starting from a series of glowing strips within the existing plates, and continuing outwards.

Segment by segment, the heavier plating materialized, its substantial but surprisingly comparatively light weight coming with it out of nowhere, until I was encased in a full suit of heavy combat armor from ear-tip to tail-tip, with only my face, back claws, and talons exposed. The thinnest wafer of plating somehow managed to cover each and every feather, individually, right down to the ends of my wings, the backs of my ears, and the fan on my tail.

An experimental flex of my right wing proved that the plating was shockingly flexible. I could feel the weight of it, but it was barely as noticeable as a suit of light JRSF armor. Yet somehow, it had the thickness, and apparent durability of a full combat mech-suit.

Aston smirked, visibly glorying in my befuddlement for a long moment, before finally explaining in a smug, clipped tone.

"Thaumatic technology. The light armor acts as a permanent reservoir for shaped energy fields, which can be deployed or retracted in less than a second."

Hutch tapped his suit's wrist, and deployed his own plating to demonstrate, nodding as Alyra rapped one claw harshly against his left arm experimentally.

"It can take three direct point-blank hits from a RAC-7 before it needs to regenerate. And if the energy cores aren't depleted, that takes less than thirty seconds. Glancing blows don't even stand a chance."

Aston sighed, and shook her head, pointing at my left front talons.

"Gryphon talons, Dragon claws, and Changeling chitin are the only naturally-driven surfaces that have shown any effectiveness in breaching it. Knives, even monomolecular blades, don't do spit. Even these need two shots, or one well overcharged hit on a weak point, to take them down."

She hefted her carbine, and tapped the barrel as she finished explaining. I realized what it was even as she launched into her explanation.

"What the PER has been struggling for years to perfect, the Genesists have made field ready in under two. Tri-cyclic fusion-driven infantry particle carbines. Melts standard ceramics like a hot knife through nutribars. Vaporizes basic tritanium plate instantly. Punctures heavy vehicle-grade nano-ceramics in just three shots."

Alyra darted onto the armor pad even as I gingerly vacated the space, both of us gawking all the while at the technological miracle encasing my body.

I couldn't help but ask the single most important question on my mind.

"Can I still fly wearing this?"

Aston nodded as Hutch reset the armor bay, and began the process anew for Alyra.

"Sure, you can fly conventionally, no loss to performance. Or you could do one better."

Before I had time to question her, Aston reached over my shoulder, and tapped one of the controls on my gauntlet. A dozen panels on my back, and wings retracted, and glowing slits sprang to life in their place, blasting out a wave of hot air, and gases. I could feel the temperature gradient wash over my tail.

"In-line mounted micro-impulse drivers. Not quite as fast as a Pegasus, but you could neck-and-neck a Scythe for about thirty minutes at a go..."

Aston flicked her wrist, and deployed her own plating, and impulse drivers alike, lofting herself to the top of the bay in an instant. She hung near the roof for only half a second, before hunkering down, and blasting into the floor at-speed, denting the concrete.

I got the impression she had held back a considerable amount of thrust.

For the sake of the floor.

I immediately decided I needed to set about recreating this system in Equestria. Thaumatics had been mentioned, and I was willing to bet the system could be retooled to use more Thaumatics, and less circuitry. I was also willing to bet Skye would help. I wondered if I could do it in less than a decade, with the right expertise and assistance.

Aston finished her sales pitch with a grin.

"Or you could use them to body-slam someone so far into the ground that they have to pry them out with a crane, and thermite. Apparently they only hit their maximum ISP in vacuum though."

Hutch nodded as Alyra's armor finished materializing into existence.

"Yeah. The Human version has some serious limits too. Only Equestrian skeletons can handle the rigors of sustained high-speed, high-altitude flight, especially the spinal pressures, acceleration, turning, and deceleration. Ours are limited to short, much less powerful micro-bursts. We can't really carry the same size power cells as you either."

Aston chuckled, retracted her plating, removed her half-helm, and ran one hand through her short-cropped hair.

"Skye had a blast with hers. I think she rather likes being able to fly under her own power for once, instead of bumming a ride. She's still a little afraid of the higher throttle settings though."

As if to demonstrate those higher settings, Alyra lifted off the pad, beating her wings reflexively despite the buoyant force of the impulse thrusters.

With a manic grin she hunched forward, tucking her wings into a stoop-like posture, and sped down the bay so fast that she barely had time to turn, and touch her back paws to the far wall, before reversing and soaring the opposite direction.

The wind and impulse gasses of her passage toyed with my ears as she blew by, moving so quickly that she was merely a colored streak to Hutch and Aston.

Alyra touched the far wall once more, pivoted again, and raced back, flaring her wings at the last moment and unintentionally blasting all three of us with air from her reverse thrust maneuver, before deftly touching down on her hind legs.

I ran one claw through my crest to smooth it, grinning as I noted that Hutch, bald and therefore mostly unfazed, was chuckling at Aston's terrible hair predicament.

Aston shot Alyra a mock glare, and raised one eyebrow as she battled with her ruffled follicles.

"Nice landing kid. Real nice."

I smirked, and winked at my daughter.

Couldn't have agreed more.

Skye

"That looks..."

Neyla visibly struggled to find precisely the right balance of words, while I set about preparing the offending piece of equipment in the exact center of the loading bay.

With a snort, I shook my head, finishing the sentence for her, while intently scrutinizing the device with my gaze.

"...Much more menacing than it is. I promise. It's a bit of a bodge-job, so I didn't have the time to pretty-up all the wires, and smooth out the lines. It's all about what it can do, not how much it resembles a piece of Borg technology."

Neyla sat back on her haunches, flattening one ear in confusion.

"Borg...? Is all Swedish technology inherently---"

I bit back a short, sharp guffaw, interrupting mirthfully as my hooves danced across a small holographic interface sprouting from the side of the machine. Gryphons are so cute when they miss references.

"Star Trek, Neyla. It's a Star Trek reference. On so many levels."

She cracked a wry grin, her tail swishing, and her ears perked in amusement.

"I suppose I haven't gotten that far yet. I don't get a great deal of time to consume Human media in the first place. I do admit, however, that I find 'Mister Spock' to be an admirable cultural role model in the Human context. He reminds me very much of Varan."

I grinned, and tapped my right hoof against a physical switch; The tube-covered metal cone split instantly into two parts, joined by central flexible armatures, connected to a suspiciously equine-head-shaped set of metal plates.

Neyla's right ear flicked back, and she glowered at the device, an unspoken promise about what would happen to it if it caused me even the slightest amount of pain written clearly on her beak.

It was unnecessary suspicion, though not for the first time I realized how much I appreciated having a big sister around. A much more real sister than any of the ones I'd been born with, at any rate.

Shoving that line of thought aside, hard, I rolled my eyes, and stepped into the center of the machine, horn flaring to life as I did so. The firm, unworried tone in my voice seemed to allay most of Neyla's remaining concerns.

"Oh please. It's harmless. Not easy to use correctly, to be sure... Maybe five Unicorns alive could make it work... But harmless."

The metal plates snapped to a position millimeters above my temples; Two of the copper contacts on the inner surface even brushed my horn, ever so slightly. There was a tiny electrical jolt, but not enough for me to visibly react. For several seconds, a dull thrum emanated from the housing of the machine, but nothing else happened.

I squinted my eyes, and my muzzle locked into a scowl of pure concentration.

Slowly, dimly at first, then with exponentially increasing speed and luminosity, blue and purple tendrils of light began to snake forth from my horn, wending their way through the device, then out into the Shenzhou's loading bay.

What began as seemingly random tangles of lines soon coalesced into familiar shapes; Ponies, Gryphons, Humans, machines, crates, and vehicles. All in the process of being torn apart by an immense explosive force.

As the projection raced to the edges of the bulkheads, it began to step backwards through time, gas and debris flying inwards, bodies leaping from ceiling, to floor, to a standing position.

A macabre scene in reverse.

Neyla stepped around the translucent, but incredibly detailed forms, making her way almost reverently towards the epicenter of the explosion.

"This almost defies belief."

I snorted again, and blinked, speaking in a slow tempo that betrayed my split focus.

"Nah... All I'm doing is stitching together sensor data from black boxes, holo recordings of the detonation from many angles, and information from post-blast scans, in a way a computer, even an AI, couldn't; Using this thing as a mediation, amplification, and projection system."

The Gryphoness blinked, and swiped one claw gently through the Thaumatic Hologram of the bomb-laden storage crate.

"Well, I still find it to be an incredible feat. What else can your new analysis technique tell us?"

With a smirk, I screwed my eyes shut, mustering further concentration that tugged against the edges of my words. I could feel reams and reams of information crossing the plane of my thoughts, both conscious and unconscious.

Each strand being organized, almost instinctively through the filter of the knowledge I carried, and then forced back out as holographic data.

This was, as the Humans say, my jam.

"Now this might just stretch your sense of possibility..."

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

Shining

The courtyard was veiled in a silence so thick, that my hoof-steps against the familiar worn cobblestone rang out like shots from a gun.

Row upon row of assembled Guards-Ponies stood stock still, their armor glittering silently in the sun, as they drew on thousands of hours of training and discipline to hold perfectly still.

They even breathed in synchronization.

I grimaced internally, reflecting that it was regrettable how much of that time had been spent on learning the disciplines of protocol, pomp, and ceremony, and how little had been spent on useful combat technique.

As I reached the center of the raised steps leading into the palace, my old preferred vantage point for such occasions, I turned those musings into a suitable opening remark, letting it fly with a sharp edge in tone that demanded instant attention, and respect.

"Most of you here know me personally. Many of you have served with me. And all of you certainly know who I am. What you're all wondering now, silently, behind those stony masks of discipline and ceremony, is why I'm here."

Narrowing my eyes, I flattened my ears slightly in a calculated display of intensity, punctuating each word of my thesis statement with a sharp tap of my right hoof against the stairs.

"You. Are. Not. Ready."

The change in attitude was palpable in the air, though not a single Guards-Pony so much as batted a solitary eyelash. I allowed a moment of tense silence to hang on the cool morning breeze, before continuing.

"Each and every one of you are proud, honorable, steadfast patriots; Willing to lay down your life. For your country. For each other. For your rulers. And yet..."

I began to pace slowly along the middle step, sweeping the assembled divisions with a piercing gaze.

"...And yet you are ill-prepared to make that sacrifice *count* for something!"

With a pause, I stiffened to attention, once more allowing my words to sink in before adding to them.

"I have failed you in this regard. I failed to advocate, loudly, and persistently enough to bring about the change that you need. But no longer. Starting from this day, and from now on, we will begin the process of transforming the Royal Guard into a fighting force that aggressors, near and far, will rightly *fear!*"

I moved to the side, making a space for Sildinar, Kephic, and Varan, resplendent in their full combat armor, to take the center of the impromptu dais.

How I envied the gear they carried, as-standard. And how I hoped that would soon change.

"To make that a reality, we welcome special guests from our neighbors to the North-West. For the next week, we will train you as you have never been trained before. You will be sore, and tired, in ways you didn't know were possible. And you will be harder, faster, stronger, and deadlier than you ever thought a Pony could be."

Sildinar nodded, and took the center of the stair, his wings flared slightly to make him seem even larger than he already appeared. The booming thrum of his voice seemed to overpower the enclosed courtyard, as if he had the benefit of Thaumaturgy.

"You are not ready, yet. True. But you are able. I've seen the pride your former commander has in you. It is justified. I've seen a few members of your kind fight, after training alongside more martial cultures. You can, if you will but put yourselves fully to the task, become fighters in your own right. As worthy of the term 'Warrior,' as any Dragon, or Human, or Gryphon."

Sildinar tensed, projecting enormous volume, and stone-clad surety into his voice, his eyes seemingly fired by an internal blaze that threatened to spill out and melt the cobblestone beneath him.

"Make no mistakes. Bear no illusions within yourselves. This process will be long. And painful. And difficult. My kind is born into war. Our very being is steeped in the identity of Hunter. Killer. Fighter. Warrior. To rival the things which we face on a daily basis, you will have to work just as hard as we do, knowing you'll never be entirely as formidable. But you can be as close as you need to. Close enough for others to fear you. And that fear will save countless lives, through wars never fought, and battles never joined, because your enemy will know your name! And even the sound of it will give them pause!"

I nodded once curtly, inhaling deeply, then bellowing words that were half command, half question.

"DO YOU STAND READY?!"

The ground shook as nearly two thousand armor plated right-front-hooves rose, and then slammed down in unison.

Carradan

"And they say I'm dramatic..."

I winced as my comrade shoved one of her gold-clad hooves sharply into the magically-whitened fur of my side. We marched on silently, side by side, each hoof-fall perfectly synchronized as we moved in concert with our assigned Battalion to one corner of the courtyard.

We two Pegasi, along with six hundred sixty three other guardsponies of various species, abruptly came to a halt, still maintaining formation. Absolute silence descended as Varan moved to stand before our unit, hefting an enormous wooden crate.

The Gryphon's level of exertion betrayed just how heavy the contents were, to say nothing of the container's unusual bulk. Across the courtyard the other Gryphons were doing the same with the other two Companies.

Once the crate was safely on the ground, Varan pried the top off, using his talons like an array of tiny crowbars. Sunlight glinted and sparkled off the contents, which elicited excited and awed inhalations from the assembled Ponies.

Even I was impressed, and I'd seen the armor forges of the Gryphons more than once.

Varan dipped one claw into the crate, speaking as he pushed aside the packing straw, and removed one of the beautifully burnished pieces of Gryphic alloy-metal. Out in the clear, it was obviously a helmet, designed for a Pegasus, with aggressive compound curves giving it an aerodynamic profile.

Unlike the fully gold-plated helmets all us Ponies in the courtyard were wearing, the new design was mostly comprised of un-altered Gryphic alloy; A brushed-steel shade and texture that I recognized, through and through, with only small areas of gold and white trim, which were clearly brushed on with metallic paint, rather than actual gold or pearl plating.

"This is a prototype. The newest armor designs for the Royal Guard, straight from our own drafting tables and forges."

The golden Gryphon tossed the helmet to the Battalion commander, who deftly snagged it in her thaumatic field, giving the object a once-over before passing it to the next Pony in line. As the helmet was examined by each of us in turn, Varan continued to elaborate.

"You'll notice that there is now a leather backing. Something those of you with more squeamish tastes will have to learn to ignore. This allows for an internal shock-damping gel layer, of Human design, refined and tweaked for this specific use, which provides greatly increased protection from shock damage, whether from impacts, explosions, or magical bursts."

As the helmet made its way back to the front, and then into Varan's claws once more, he rapped one talon against the surface, producing a tiny shower of sparks.

"With the traditional decorative gold plating removed, and replaced with more subtle hints of gold-infused trim paint, the armor can gain significant thickness, and thus significantly greater protective quotient, without gaining any weight."

Varan dropped the helmet back into the crate, and pulled forth a front hoof-guard, twisting it around in the sunlight so that all could see. With a subtle flick, two wickedly sharp, curved alloy blades popped forth from the sides of the plating, seemingly from nowhere.

"Like Gryphon armor, and like JRSF armor, these prototypes are fitted with many hidden lethal edges. The ones on the hoof-guards in particular are based on our observations of the most effective Changeling combat morphs, and the particular shapes they tend to utilize to greatest effect."

Placing the gauntlet back into the crate, Varan then withdrew a wing-joint guard for a Pegasus, and a horn-cover for a Unicorn as he finished the lecture. Both sported similar modifications, with lethal hidden blades a mere flick away.

"Each class of armor has been specially designed for its species, with varying weights, levels of flexibility, and hidden weaponry that are intended to cover for weaknesses, and exploit strengths. There are special variants, with a stealth paint coating and other specific modifications for the Night Guard. Enough of this armor has already been produced to outfit the entire Day Guard, and Night Guard alike, however the majority of the shipment will not arrive until the end of this month..."

Varan swept the group with a challenging glare, that begged to be answered in kind, allowing a hefty pause to fill the air.

"...So you will be in competition with the other two Battalions to be the first Day Guards to receive this equipment. Training will be delivered in class segments, group physical training, internal competitive matches, and division-against-division opposing force bouts of simulated warfare. The Battalion winning the most simulated 'op-for' engagements... "

The golden Gryphon raised his index talons, mimicking the decidedly Human 'air quotes' motion to denote the Human military phrasing.

"...Will win the early use of this armor. And all the bragging rights therein."

Varan raised one eyebrow, reshuffling the position of his wings, and skewering us all with an expression equal parts challenging glare, and devil-may-care grin.

"From this moment on, you are not simply Royal Guards. I will be treating you, as the Humans would say, as Tactical Marines. And you will be instructed accordingly, drawing from the best martial traditions of Gryphon, Night-Guard, and Human combat knowledge. No differently than I would treat any Gryphon Knight, and no accompanying expectation withheld. So obviously, We will be the winning Battalion. Am I *right* soldiers?"

Six hundred sixty five front right gauntlets rose, and slammed into the ground, with enough force to briefly draw the attention of everyone else in the courtyard.

The thrill of being part of the motion, and feeling the shaking of the ground we had caused, was electric. I suddenly began to see how Fyrenn had gotten sucked into that martial world back in the day. If Human boot camp was anything similar, I wondered how anyone with a fightin' bent to their spirit could resist.

Varan inclined his head, and snorted.

"Indeed."

I exchanged the briefest smirk with IJ, and shot Varan a nearly imperceptible wink. We had never seen much of the golden Gryphon's more 'playful' side, relatively speaking, and we both were looking forward to seeing it used as a tool to hone and teach.

Though I figured IJ was much less likely to admit it aloud, even disguised as a Pegasus again, with the added anonymity that afforded. And neither of us could risk betraying that we had any prior friendship with the Gryphons in the first place, lest we jeopardize our cover.

I had plenty of experience with lying and pretending to get information, not that different from IJ, and I'd had to remind her of that several times. I was a reporter, after all.

Varan fixed both of us in turn with a microsecond-long gaze of encouragement, and recognition, completely imperceptible to all other eyes, before flaring his wings slightly, and snapping the crate's lid closed forcefully.

"Right then! Show me what you're made of."

I was excited. IJ had put me through the wringer more than once already. I knew I had an advantage, and I was interested in testing it on some professionals.

Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
December 8th, Gregorian Calendar

Veritas stared at the device, unblinking, until at last the display readout on the chamber's right wall emitted a soft two-tone indicating readiness.

The machine would have looked intimidating to human or Pony eyes; Two curved obsidian pillars, each coming to a point, resembling giant segmented talons rising from a central circular pad. Slits that seemed to be full of living rock. A kind of glowing blue and purple mineral matter punctuated the surface of both pillars.

Organic-looking black tubes sprung forth from asymmetrically placed ports, vanishing away into a spiky conic apparatus suspended from the ceiling.

Veritas tossed her mane reflexively as she stepped onto the center of the pad. Without pause her horn sprang to life, and she silently steeled herself for the trajection process.

The journey over a Null Hypersurface was always mentally taxing; It was one of the few moments Veritas encountered with some regularity that allowed her host's mind some brief, tiny spark of self-assertion.

There was no risk of losing control, of course. Veritas had broken her host's will and soul many years previous. But the incoherent pain of the shattered fragments leftover could cause no small amount of discomfort, incredibly brief though it might be.

With a searingly bright flash of blue, purple, and cyan energy, Vertias' horn made a forked, lighting-like connection of energy with both pillars. The ancient machine thrummed loudly for a brief moment.

And then Veritas vanished from the pad with a loud 'SNAP!' of electrical energy, leaving behind only a microsecond-long teal afterimage.

To the purple and navy not-quite-Unicorn, the world seemed to vanish instead, replaced by the familiar lines and 'colors' of N-dimensional spatial folds. Visual information that would have driven any Human utterly insane to try and comprehend it.

Not that any Human, true Pony, Gryphon, or any other species would have been able to charge the device, much less survive the inter-spatial transition without some sort of faraday cage, or protective pod. Only a Wisp, existing as pure energy, or a container made of the right materials, could make the trip through the Trajection Assemblies.

Most Wisps simply traveled as energy, leaving their host body behind to avoid destroying it.

Veritas was so powerful, exerted such control over her host, and possessed such total integration, that she could dematerialize the host and bring it with her as an energy stream.

Her trajectory was pre-locked. No effort was needed on her part, aside from the initial energy outlay to charge, the effort to dematerialize, the need to brace herself against the sudden resurgence of her host's directionless, endless pain, and the effort to rematerialize the host on the other end.

Both time, and the perception of it, functioned differently on a Null Hypersurface. Something mathematically problematic about their gravitational properties created a sort of temporal aphasia, placing various parts of a traveler's mind subtly out of chronometric synchronization.

Because of the way Vertias was bound to, and integrated with her host, that chronal fragmentation generated feedback loops that allowed the normally closed-off, imprisoned emotions and sensations of the host's mind to briefly brush her own.

Though her trip only took 0.68 seconds by Terran, or Equestrian measurement, it lasted nearly 11 seconds from Veritas' timeframe on the Hypersurface. The temporal aphasia made it seem somehow both infinitely shorter, and just over twice as long, at the same time.

The sensation was best approximated by describing a truly primal scream of pain, in auditory, emotional, and physical dimensions.

Something akin to the sound some beings made when their skin was set on fire with superheated plasma, either for Vertias' amusement, interrogation, or experimental purposes. She was quite familiar with the sound, and the unique emotional signature beings under such duress produced.

She often wondered, on her Trajection trips, how some lesser beings seemed to be able to hold out for minutes, or hours experiencing such pain.

Abruptly, the minor ordeal was over, and as always it was worth the brief prick of discomfort.

To some, the pain of the host's scream would have been enough to break their own mind in twain. For Veritas, it was comparatively little more than the sting of an injector needle.

Two indoctrinated Diamond Dogs, clad in black, glittering armor, made of the same minerals as the Trajection device, and covered in similar glowing slits, stood flanking the receiving chamber's doors.

Just below the pad stood three Equine forms; Two skeletons with glowing eye sockets, clad in similar combat armor, scorpion-like tails poised above their heads, and one fleshed-form.

An outside observer would have though the pastel Unicorn to be sorely out of place, but Veritas could sense his mind, the same way she could sense the minds of the two skeletal guards, and to a lesser extent the minds of the Diamond Dogs.

The chamber, made of a similarly shaped mineral in slightly lighter gray, with perfectly smooth surfaces broken only by sharp lines where necessary, was intimately familiar to Veritas.

She stepped off the platform, and through the door, her guards taking up immediate flanking positions as the Unicorn began to brief her.

"All systems are prepared for separation, and appropriate personnel recalled. We're ready on your order."

As her hooves fell on the surface of the ancient corridor with the clack of keratin against particle-synthesized, laser-sculpted basaltic alloy older than all life on Earth, Veritas nodded curtly, speaking with the same clipped manner.

"It is given."

Comments

[Agrith]

You gave Fyrenn power armor. God help us all.

[Guardian_Gryphon]

11022517
Not much of a spoiler to say I gave Neyla power armor too. Make of the implications of that what you will

*cough*massivedamage*cough*