Days of Wasp and Spider
by Luna-tic Scientist
Author's note: this chapter contains some graphic violence.
Could it face that again? To what end? It knew it could build a new home, but what then? There was nothing left to do, nothing new left to discover. The Pattern bent its considerable intellect to the problem and eventually found a solution it could live with... in a way. What had to happen was that it needed to become less than it was. It inspected its creation looking for a possible starting point; the creature had to be large enough to accommodate some small fraction of the Pattern, enough so it would still know something of itself.
There was a tunnel dweller, mainly bipedal, with long, clawed paws and an elongated head with heavy jaws. Some things had to be changed, of course; the brain case was too small and the forepaws didn't have the dexterity to be a tool user. Not yet, anyway.
=== Chapter 6 (remastered): ...but you can't take the raptor out of the gryphon. ===
Shock Diamond stood frozen with fear as the creature bore down upon him. A crazy mismatch of parts, half big cat and half monstrous bird, it galloped straight at him with wings flicking and tail lashing. Some small part of his mind noted the bulky equipment harness, armour vest and tubular device attached to one shoulder, that said this was a tool user and could be reasoned with. A far larger part saw the horn length talons on the forelegs and the cruel, sharp beak and was screaming run, run, RUN! Leg muscles locked solid he could only stare, mesmerised by the large, yellow eyes piercing his soul like the lights of an oncoming cargo floater.
When the lesson had started there had been no hint of the nightmare to come. Single Crystal, Base Pair and himself had joined the rest of the current crop of soon to be Blessed ponies for an evening practice session in some of the higher energy magics. Shepherded by Random Walk, they had all flown to the centre to investigate where they thought their special talents might lie; Shock had tested high for field effects and was eager to practice some of the more unusual types without the risk of further property damage.
That had not been his finest kilosecond. That field had been perfect -- spherical, strong and very thin -- but he'd not taken into account the nearby wall when he'd created the bubble. It had taken two adults to dig him out of the rubble; the structural supports were sliced cleanly where the field had passed through them. His parents had complimented him on his skill - then put him to work fixing the damage, banning any further experimentation outside of the training centre.
There was a subliminal thump from over his left shoulder and something flickered in front of his muzzle with a blur of motion. Ahead, only a few lengths from where he stood, the horn light of Phased Array vanished as she collapsed in a heap. Then the screaming really started. There had been shouts of panic when the creatures had dropped from the darkness to encircle the class -- apart from one who had misjudged his landing and scattered the herd -- but this was different. Phased's high-pitched keening wail cut through the ice in Shock's mind like the weather team clearing an unplanned rainstorm. The little blue colt bolted.
Dashing through the confused melee, Shock pumped his wings and became airborne. The wings of ponies his age were too short for them to be particularly fast fliers, but this, coupled with their light weight, made them immensely manoeuvrable. He caught a glimpse of his pursuer out of the corner of one eye; the thing had spread its wings and was closing the gap with frightening speed. The colt's wings blurred to humming-bird speeds as he tried to accelerate, but the monster was faster. A flash of talon and he turned on one wing-tip, evading the grab at the cost of a few indigo tail hairs. This gained him a few precious seconds and he dived around the side of the darkened training centre, momentarily out of sight.
Casting about desperately, he spotted that one of the maintenance hatches wasn't completely closed; he dove for it, hitting the door and slamming it fully open with a crash. Stunned for an instant, Shock Diamond rolled to a stop at the bottom of a steep set of metal stairs. He lay there panting in the darkness, eyes fixed on the pale shifting radiance coming through the open hatch. Something big and bird-like cast a momentary shadow across the opening. The colt let out an involuntary whinny, then clamped his forehooves over his muzzle in horror as something landed outside with a rush of feathers and a puff of grass-scented air.
There was the sound of claws scratching against the stone slabs that encircled the building, then for an instant there was the clear silhouette of a hook-beaked head against the reflected light. The head turned with a quick, jerky motion and appeared to scan the short corridor leading up to the stairs. The colt held his breath, hoping the near absolute darkness would hide him, but then the rest of the creature stepped forward, completely filling the opening and blocking its meagre illumination.
"Hey, pony, I'm not gonna--"
He didn't hear the rest. The raspy voice ran through Shock Diamond like a lightning bolt, and he wriggled to his hooves and scrambled up the stairs, slipping and sliding on the metal mesh. At the top he rammed an unseen wall head first and collapsed in a heap, knocked senseless for an instant. The world came back in a rush with the sound of something heavy stepping on to the bottom step. Shakily standing up, he generated a brief flash of light, then galloped through the first available opening. One more flash showed a narrow passageway lined with racks of silent machines arranged in an irregular pattern, shadowed alleyways opening between further racks and branching off into a room that appeared to occupy most of this floor. He couldn't see far before the passageway made a sharp turn to the left, and even that was rendered indistinct by the light haze of smoke hanging in the air. Closing his eyes against the irritant fog and trying to resist the urge to sneeze at the smell of burnt plastic, Shock extended his wings out and forwards. Letting the primary feathers brush against the metal shelves he trotted into the maze, taking turnings at random in total darkness. Behind him he could hear the creature step into the room and close the door.
"Come on, pony, don't make this harder than it has to be."
The voice echoed from the hard metal surfaces, sounding tired and irritated. Shock Diamond slowed to a hesitant walk, placing each hoof carefully and wincing with each hollow clop.
"This is pointless! I've got a detailed map and infra-red here, there's no way you can hide from me." The voice, horrifyingly close, had softened and become almost gentle. "Look I know you must be scared -- I would be in your place -- but you've nothing to fear from me."
This was too much for Shock. "Liar! You shot my friend!" he screamed, then lit his horn and cast around wildly, looking for a way to escape. Through a narrow gap between two racks he saw another door, bigger than the first he'd used, a dark shadow marking where the panels had parted slightly when the powered locks had failed. Leaping forward, he wedged himself into the gap, wings folded all the way back and twisting his shoulders frantically to get past the banks of equipment. The racks were quite deep; he'd managed to get his entire body into the gap, muzzle just poking into the far side, when he felt the scaly claw grip his trailing hoof. The colt whinnied in shock, jerking convulsively but completely failing to dislodge the iron hard grip.
"Got you, you little--"
Shock Diamond struggled violently, the sharp edges of the racks scoring unfelt scratches in his hide, but to no avail. Slowly he was drawn back out of his hiding place and, in desperation, he pushed backwards with his magic while kicking out as hard as possible with his hindlegs. There was a wordless yell and the sudden, complex sound of something falling into a stack of fragile instrumentation from behind him, then abruptly the pressure on his ankle vanished. Propelled forwards by his telekinetic shove, Shock popped free of the racks just as a taloned foreleg grasped at the space he'd just vacated. A brief backwards glance showed only a yellow eye, glittering with rage in his blue-white horn light. The eye's owner hissed loudly, wrapping its talons around the nearest rack and pulling violently. The whole stack moved slightly, its anchoring bolts pulling free of the floor with an ear-splitting metallic screech.
Trembling, Shock nosed through the double doors, then hesitated. He was standing on a landing halfway up a flight of stairs, with no clear indication what was above or below him. Down leads back out to the... things, up goes to the roof? He peered down into the dark, then up. At least that way there was some light, the same shifting, multicoloured glow he'd seen before. Biting his lips indecisively, the colt headed up the stairs, hooves suddenly silent on the richly carpeted floor. At the top was a large open space, a single big, circular room lined with wall to floor windows. Inside the floor was arranged things he'd only seen images of; the odd shapes of furniture designed for the Master's weird bipedal form amid rows of heavy looking desks.
The colt looked at the stairs and the inward opening doors at the bottom, a wild idea forming in his head. The desks were far too heavy to lift directly, but he could reduce their mass a little... Putting a shoulder against the nearest one, he lifted up with his magic and shoved as hard as possible, sending it tumbling down the stairs to rest against the doors. Just in time too, as something angry pounded on the other side. Heart in his mouth, Shock Diamond watched as the doors flexed and bowed with each impact, but the piece of office furniture had wedged itself against the bottom step, and the panels wouldn't open more than a hoof's width. Wasting no time, he started to back to get another table, when a yellow eye appeared at the narrow gap.
"Pony," the gravelly voice said tiredly, "I'm going to have to demolish this door, so I'd step back if I were you. Why don't you trot off and look for another exit?"
The blue colt stared in confusion. He's telling me to escape? he thought, then backed away nervously, suddenly worried by the lack of noise from the other side of the door. For a moment he contemplated trying his force bubble -- at least up here the walls were far enough away that he wouldn't destroy anything -- but then he'd be unable to escape if it wasn't strong enough. There was a series of bangs, so close together it was practically a single noise, then a tight cluster of holes appeared at the top corner of the door frame. Shock's eyes widened, those holes had pounded the upper hinge to scrap. He turned tail and ran, looking for a way out.
The room really did take up the whole top of the training centre building. Shock's gaze flickered around the room, looking for something, anything that might let him escape. A quick scan showed him nothing -- the central stairwell appeared to be the only way in or out -- but before he could run around the room for a closer look he was drawn to the moving glows outside the windows. Off in one of the distant pits he could see three ponies and a handful of bipedal shapes, but more interesting was what was happening at the base of the building. He could see the little horn glows of his class-mates, many in a tight herd guarded by the cat-bird things, but a few were still in the air and evading their much larger pursuers with some success. There was another burst of noise from the stairs, then another and another, followed by a crashing, ripping sound.
There was a dragging noise, then the sound of heavy steps on the stairs. The colt shrank back as a beaked head cautiously poked around the wall surrounding the stairwell, followed by the rest of the creature. Now, with any hope of escape gone, Shock Diamond's churning mind finally recalled a half remembered description of the military forces used by the Masters. The things were gryphons, the Hive's front line shock troops; aggressive, fast and deadly. He wracked his brain for any information he could use; they had no magic, that was obvious, but more than made up for that with claws and a vicious beak.
The gryphon stood at the top of the stairs, staring at the blue pony. "What's your name?" he said softly.
"Sh... Shock Diamond," the colt replied, cursing the hitch in his voice.
"I'm Adigard Alfgeir. You did good, colt, staying ahead of me like that. There's no shame in losing in a situation like this; you put up a good fight, that's what matters." The gryphon settled down on his haunches, starting to root around in his equipment harness. "Ah, here it is," he said, pulling out a tangled collection of slim plastic straps and meshwork. "Blasted things," he mumbled, giving it a shake and pulling at it with both foreclaws. "There we go. I'm sorry about this, but I'm going to have to bind your wings. Think of it as respect for a worthy opponent." Seeing Shock back away another few steps, the gryphon sighed and pulled the tube mounted on his back forward on a rail, grip the protruding handle in one claw and point it at a desk near the pony. A brilliant spot of green light appeared on the desk, followed by a loud thump and the shock of a heavy impact. The spot appeared on a chair on the other side of the colt and again there was the thump and impact, the chair spinning wildly on its pivot. A slim, dark grey cylinder, end flattened to the width of an adult's hoof and velocity almost spent, bounced away in a lazy arc. The little spot of light moved to Shock Diamond's chest and he cringed away, but it tracked him unerringly.
"I'm really good with this," Alfgeir said. "I don't want to shoot you, but I'm done chasing. Come here and I won't have to."
A flare of light distracted Shock before he could reply. His eyes were drawn to a pin-point of orange, bright enough to cast distorted shadows and leave multicoloured spots dancing in his vision. That's Random Walk, he thought, if anypony can help, it's her. Keeping one eye on their teacher, Shock walked slowly towards the gryphon, dragging his hooves as much as possible. A sudden rattle of gunfire, muffled by the windows, made him pause and the colt watched open mouthed as a square of light appeared between Random and one rapidly retreating gryphon, flickering in time with the shots. More light flashed and the gun was ripped out of the gryphon's beak, the soldier flung tumbling in a high arc.
"Ignore the light show, pony, let's get this over with." Alfgeir, who had been keeping his eyes on the colt, reached forward and grabbed Shock Diamond by the neck, dragging him the last few paces. In quick, practiced motions he dropped the harness on the pony's back, snapping the locks closed at throat, withers and hip, before pulling the straps as tight as they'd go. Putting two claws between the straps and Shock's coat he gave the contraption a tug. "Hmm, you're not quite the right shape and you're too small -- but I think this will do." He looked thoughtfully at the last part of the restraints, the part designed to stop its normally beaked occupant from biting, then snorted and detached it. Finally the gryphon pulled a short line from another pocket, clipping one end to his equipment harness and the other to the locking point between Shock's wing roots.
The gryphon relaxed somewhat, releasing his grip on the pony's indigo mane. The little colt had ignored him all through the fitting process, transfixed by the fight between Random and the other gryphon. Abruptly the pony stiffened, wings flaring uselessly against the mesh panels holding them down, then turned to Alfgeir with a look of desperation, one hoof pointing out the window.
"You've got to stop him, he's going to kill Random!"
The gryphon looked in that direction, just in time to see one of his squad-mates stamp heavily on the chest of a fallen pony. Cursing, he held down the button connecting him to his sersjant, then spoke rapidly before the other could acknowledge.
Shock Diamond didn't hear a word of what his captor said, his mind was too full of the horror unfolding outside. Unable to blink or look away, he watched the gryphon bend down and take a firm grip on Random's wing with his beak.
===
Gunnulf glided into the darkness, the mad, noisy rush of his initial velocity quickly bleeding away to the steady soaring pace his kind were known for. Through the display on his visor - already flashing flight path commands and a search zone -- he could see the shadowed landscape, all gentle rolling hills and patches of woodland interspersed with unnaturally dark buildings. A few points of light broke the darkness, multicoloured candle-flames illuminating quadrupedal forms in strange ways and casting monstrous shadows against the single large, cylindrical building at the centre of the target area. Glancing around to check the positions of his squad-mates, he reached back with his left claw to unfold his autogun's forward controller, pulling the gun forward on its track to click into 'ready' position, the controller's bite trigger next to his beak. Another flick selected the high velocity standard ammo rather than the fat, slow 'nonlethal' antipersonnel thumpers, then he was back to scanning his designated zone for anything hostile.
Two taps on his chest control pack opened a synthetic view in the visor over Gunnulf's left eye, a polychromatic false colour image to add to the targeting reticule the gun already supplied. Bright sparks of red marked both herds of ponies, barely perceptible pulses of violet flickering between them from the magic that always seemed to surround them. He could also see the Masters, dark bipeds embedded in glittering polygons of purple light, taking up positions around the smaller of the two herds. There was nothing else. No movement, no heat sources, no crystal thaumic signature, no electromagnetic leakage. His command collar vibrated twice in its silent 'combat mode', then a synthesised voice spoke in his earbud.
"Orders revised: no hostile forces expected, contain all pony or civilian contacts for immediate collection by Hive Security."
Gunnulf growled deep in his throat. Typical, knew it was too good to be true, he thought bitterly.
Stowing the autogun -- trying to land with a beak on one's bite trigger was a recipe for friendly fire -- Gunnulf 'whiffled', tilting over suddenly to spill air from his wings and loose height rapidly. Below him the ponies were milling about in one of the flat areas between the circular pits, maybe two dozen in total, most seeming smaller than he remembered. They seemed skittish, the little horn glows visible to his unaugmented right eye moving chaotically.
The gryphon's beak parted in a cold smile. Let me at least give them something to remember us by, Gunnulf thought with savage glee.
Whiffling again, he dropped forty bodylengths in a couple of seconds, wings biting air just above the ground and letting him land with a sudden crash close to the herd of ponies. Perhaps too close, he realised, as most of the small forms scattered with high-pitched whinnies. Aw crap, he thought, that's torn it, as his squad-mates spread out to catch the fleeing ponies. A confused babble of commands were already starting to sound in his earbud, but so overlapped that he couldn't make anything distinctive out. Orders are orders: immediately and no high velocity. Squatting back on his haunches, Gunnulf pulled his autogun back into its firing position, gripping the forward controller with one foreclaw while the other flicked the feed from standard to nonlethal. He'd just settled the reticule on one of the fleeing figures when a heavy impact knocked him back onto his tail.
"In the Master's name, what do you think you're doing!? They're only foals."
This came from one of the few ponies not to gallop off away from the gryphons. It was bigger than the rest, but not quite up to the size of an adult, Gunnulf realised. This pony, with tan coat and a short black mane, had just shoulder barged him. Him! A sudden blinding fury filled him and Gunnulf reared up and snapped his free foreclaw out to catch the insolent herbivore on the side of its stupid head. The open clawed slap bowled the lighter pony horn over hooves into the grass, where it lie there and didn't move. Kicking the fallen pony with one hindpaw, Gunnulf turned away from the motionless figure and brought his gun back up.
"Come to me, my little pony," he crooned, dropping the reticule over one of the foals, its faint, flickering horn light providing a perfect aiming marker. This one swayed back and forth on its hooves, seeming uncertain as to what it should do, shadows swelling and shrinking as its head swung from side to side in confusion. His claw stroked lovingly on the trigger and the gun bucked once, the shot startlingly loud even over the sound of the gryphons chasing the other ponies. The figure dropped to the ground and curled in on itself, screaming with a high pitched wail that ripped through the air like an attack siren.
Gunnulf grinned. "Bit of a challenge next, I think," he muttered. Swinging the autogun around he settled the cross-hairs on a running foal, one keeping a few paces ahead of its pursuer. Despite the uncertain light, the combination of his predators' eyesight and his visor's enhancements meant he could clearly see the terror on the little filly's face, her eyes wide as she dodged her much larger hunter yet again. "You are an agile little thing, aren't you? Still, I'm here to help my friends..." His autogun thundered and the pony tumbled to an untidy heap without a sound.
Suddenly, a blur of bright, orange light filled his gunsight. Pulling his head away from the autogun Gunnulf hissed in irritation, wondering which of his squad-mates had been stupid enough to walk into his line of fire. Beak dropping open in amazement, he saw the young pony he'd knocked down just a clawfull of seconds ago. It, no, she, was standing there on splayed, shaky legs, an expression of almost mindless rage on a face made demonic by the fierce orange light that burned at the tip of her horn. Blood, appearing black in that lurid glow, flowed freely down the side of her muzzle from the three gouges that tracked from just below her horn, across the side of her face and down her neck.
Bringing the autogun down from his shoulder, Gunnulf levelled it at the pony, the stubby, paw sized muzzle pointing squarely at her chest.
"Try that on somepony closer to your own size, you monster!" she spat, blood spraying in a fine mist where it flowed over her mouth and nostrils. The pony advanced towards him, stiff-legged with fury.
Gunnulf's grin returned, wider than ever. "Works for me -- shooting your foals was getting boring anyhow." With one quick motion he flicked the feeder to its other magazine and pulled back hard on the trigger.
The gryphon's autogun was a marvel of the modern age. A clever fusion of science and crystal thaumic systems, its superconducting magnetic barrel could take anything from the fat, bean-bag 'non-lethal' thumpers to claw sized hypersonic tungsten needles, able to punch a hole through a paw's width of armour ceramic. Couple that to a shock mount that distributed the recoil force over the whole of a gryphon's body and a fire control system that could dynamically alter the exit trajectory of each projectile... The result was a gun that could fire a ten round burst in less than a hundred milliseconds and put each bullet through the same hole, all while the wielder was running or flapping around the battlefield. That would rely on the first shot being accurate, of course, so what the gun actually did was to place those ten rounds in a nice, horizontal line centred on the aim point.
That being the case, Gunnulf had every right to expect that the pony would drop bonelessly to the ground, almost cut in half by his fire. The gryphon's eyes bulged as a sloped plain of orange light flickered into being, its pulses in time with the stuttering roar of his shots. Dirt flew up where the rounds were deflected into the ground.
The figure grunted as if it had been punched, but didn't stop advancing. "You think I'm stupid?" the pony hissed in a tone that sent shivers racing down Gunnulf's spine. "Let's see how you like it!"
Gunnulf transferred the autogun's forward controller to his beak and back pedalled rapidly to get away from the enraged thing in front of him. The small part of his mind that wasn't panicking was wondering how he, a heavily armed soldier -- a predator for the Maker's sake -- was running from a pony. He got off another few bursts, all of which were deflected harmlessly, before an orange nimbus appeared around his gun's barrel, yanking the controller out of his beak with brutal force. Still attached by the recoil mount he could only close his eyes and turn away as the glow brightened suddenly. Flickers of white and the smell of burning insulation caused him to glance back at the gun; the orange glow was still there, but it was joined by blue electrical sparks as the barrel was systematically crushed and the superconductors shorted out.
With a curse, Gunnulf slapped the quick release and jumped at the pony, talons extended to rip out her throat. They'd trained to fight force field protected enemies; what mattered was the total momentum of the impactor. Gunnulf didn't understand the maths but knew the results -- a portable field that could stop a small, high velocity bullet would fail when struck by a big, slow object. He passed through where the field had been, talons hungrily reaching for pony flesh, but not quite making it. An orange haze surrounded him, held him in a soft yet unyielding grip that was like wearing a form-fitting suit of steel lined with foam rubber. A sudden push, so hard his vision greyed out, sent him tumbling beak over tail feathers across the battlefield in a high ballistic arc.
With a shake of the head he cleared his vision, wings stroking rapidly to stop the tumble. Trading this free height for speed he dived, turning in a tight spiral to hit the pony from behind. For a few long seconds he had a wide view over the training centre, dark shapes were chasing down the remaining foals and herding them into a milling cluster inside one of the pits, then he was upon his target. The stupid creature had turned her back on him and he flashed in to hit her squarely between hindquarters and withers, a strike that would break her back and end this cleanly.
Gunnulf had never actually dived on living prey before, if he had he would have paid more attention to the mare's wide spread eyes that let her see almost straight backwards. She saw him at the last instant, a subliminal flicker that spoke to her hindbrain and dropped her to the ground. These ancient reflexes from before her kind had been tampered with saved the pony's life; the blow that should have killed her instantly instead knocked her tumbling across the grass, cutting a fresh set of claw-marks across her back in the process.
Twisting his wings, Gunnulf dumped his forward velocity, turning sharply to land a few paces from the prone pony. She was lying on her left side, horn light dimmed and flickering erratically, legs kicking weakly and eyes rolled back in her head. The gryphon hurriedly leapt forward to finish her, his beak wide and reaching for her throat, but hesitated for a fraction of a second when he saw that eye roll forward and focus on him. Too late he saw the now horribly familiar orange haze and felt a sudden pressure on his head, just as if the quartermaster had given him a too tight helmet. The rest of his body was free to move though, and he dug his foreclaws and hindpaws into the dirt, beating his wings in a frantic effort to escape. Nothing worked; it was like his head was embedded in a block of invisible concrete. Trapped, was his last coherent thought, as panic rose up within him.
Helplessly, he watched the pony climb to her hooves, his eyes casting wildly about for his squad-mates. No help was forthcoming; the foals were leading the rest of the soldiers a merry dance. Many had been herded together and were held in a frightened huddle, cowed by the three gryphons standing over them. Unfortunately, the rest had scattered widely, all taking to the air to avoid their hunters. This had the effect of making the gryphons chase them down individually -- you couldn't use a thumper on an airborne pony and expect it to land safely. In a straight flight the gryphons were faster, but the ponies were more manoeuvrable; the result was an aerial game of tag that looked to last for at least another few tenth kiloseconds. The glow around Gunnulf's head flared and the gryphon was slammed down to the ground, lifted up and slammed down again.
By the fourth impact he'd given up trying to scream, the telekinetic beating had driven all the air from his lungs. His armour stopped the impacts from breaking bones, but did nothing to block the pain. Gunnulf was just starting to slide into blissful oblivion when it stopped and he was flipped upside down and lifted high into the air. In sudden realisation knew what was going to happen next; the extra height would translate into extra speed and he'd be driven head first into the ground like a talon into a rotten log. No way his armour would protect him from that. Wide eyed with terror he stared down at the pony in desperation and horror. Please don't, he pleaded, but the words died still-born when he saw the rage and complete lack of intelligence in her eyes.
"Yes, Master."
In Gunnulf's desperate state the hoarse voice was barely audible, the distant tones sounding like they were from the bottom of a well, but the instant he heard it the orange glow faded and he was rotated right side up and dumped on the ground in a heap of feathers and fur. Someone was babbling from his command collar, but his earbud had become dislodged and his ears were still ringing and he couldn't make it out. Shaking his head to clear his vision, Gunnulf struggled to his paws and staggered towards the pony. She was just standing there, staring at him with fury in her eyes, but her horn remained dark as he approached.
Tentatively he stepped forward, reaching out to nudge the pony with point of one talon. She flinched, but didn't even turn her head to look at him. Gunnulf started to laugh as he realised what must have happened, then savagely lashed out with his foreleg to sweep her hooves out from under her. The pony landed heavily and Gunnulf reared up and brought his foreclaws down on her chest with as much force as he could manage. Something gave with a sickening crack under his weight, the pony giving a strangled gasp as her breath wheezed out. Savouring the moment he stared down at her for a second, blood welling up where his talons dug into the big muscles on either side of her right wing root
Gunnulf reached down to grip the pony's wing elbow in his beak, blood coating his tongue where its razor edges cut through the thin, feathered skin. He pulled back and twisted, a greasy click, more felt than heard, marking the dislocation of the pony's wing joint. Under his body she twitched then bucked, a breathless whinnying scream muffled by the dirt in her muzzle. The gryphon released the mare's wing, bending down to strop his beak and leaving bloody streaks on her fur in an action unchanged from his raptor ancestors.
"Flysoldat Athils Gunnulf, stand down!" That bellow of a voice was from of his sersjant and at any other time he would have obeyed without question. This time, however, the violence, hunger and the proximity of helpless prey had flicked some set of ancient switches in the gryphon's head and he ignored it like you would a fly. He took a fresh grip on her wing, just below the shoulder this time, tensing his neck and forelegs in preparation for the convulsive heave that would pull the limb fully off.
Blue-white lightning flashed from under his command collar, accompanied by a harsh buzzing crackle and the smell of burning feathers. Nervous system well and truly jammed, Gunnulf went into a seizure, muscles spasming and beak opening by reflex. He tumbled off the pony, twitching and jerking but unable to scream as the pain went on and on until he finally blacked out.
685711
The Queen's Diamond jubilee long weekend has been typical UK holiday weather, ie rain (only more so as we had two days off). On the plus side I did finish the chapter!
669789
Tripods?! That is old-school SF, it's been years since I read those books (I see what you mean though, there's nothing new under the sun!). Glad you're enjoying it.
More generally: is there a trick to getting the email notification working? I get mails for direct replies, but nothing for new comments.
Love this story
NOW THIS. IS PERFECT!
Good lord.
Hey, if these Ponies were created by humans.... which is my guess since I haven't read anything yet... then I believe that the Ponies
SHOULD NOT SURVIVE.
ALL SHALL BOW BEFORE THE WILL OF MAN.
695034
Nah, I just want to know who this god-like being is. Reminds me a bit of Arthur C. Clarke's novels (specifically the Space Odyssey ones) and the whole Monolith thing.
Things seem to get ugly when gryphons enter the picture...In HALO lore: will they be Elites or Grunts, I wonder.
694157 Tripods? Oh yeah, I remember that series. Definitely some resemblance here. Good to know our beloved Fusion Pulse has become a vagrant.
Loving Random Walk and Adigard Alfgeir.
Instinct is a bitch sometimes.
Also, we now have the motivation that will set Fusion on the path to revolution.
Also also, this an exquisite sci-fi take on the origin of alicorns and Equestria in general. I'm loving every moment.
Also^3, "loosing" means the opposite of tightening. "Losing" means the opposite of winning. Just saying.
695481
Only played the 1st Halo, Grunts I think. Can't really blame the gryphons too much though, putting the military into what turned out to be crowd control is asking for trouble.
696190
Well spotted, thanks.
561656 I clearly don't view the title wasp and spider the same way you see it. I see the dogs (masters) as the wasps, and the subservient races like ponies, as the spiders. Through the "sting" of those labornet communicators, the dogs are enslaving everypony, and they don't even understand that they have no freedom. The poor brainwashed lot of them are happy to serve the masters, no thanks to their "blessing". I guess the thing that comes to my mind are those wasps that lay their egg (in this case, the labornet communicators) on a spider. The spider ends up paralyzed by the wasp's sting (in an abstract sense, they are in essence, losing their will), and are eventually consumed by the wasp larva (the ponies are consumed by their servitude to that damnable labornet communicator, following it blindly till they utterly wear out their bodies, consumed, magicless, left with no will to even live). On a side note, I simply can not separate those ominous infirmary doors where ponies go to die when they feel they are no longer useful... from the teeth of their carnivorous masters.
695362 Whachu talkin bout?
699214
Ok, I messed up the references, I meant Brutes (which do all the dirty work for the "creators") instead of Grunts (which are the small idiotic cowards that spend the whole game running away from you... unsuccessfully). The Elites are the ones that eventually join the good guys and help them save the galaxy.
Ps: you do answer your comments! Or is everyone else like this?
699817
If you knew what books I was talking about, or knew their plot, you'd understand what I was talking about. Kinda hard to understand where I'm coming from though if you haven't read any of his books :C.
Meh, I'd explain the books, but then you wouldn't want to read them (and I just woke up, so I'm not in the mood for writing a huge paragraph detailing the first 2 books...)
700280
Depends on the person; I've written (what I thought was) detailed comments for some stories and not received anything back; it's very discouraging when this happens.
I tend to reply when there is a direct question or if the comment is insightful, although for obvious reasons I won't discuss the actual story plot line... unless I've screwed up enough that people are confused what's going on, in which case you'll likely be getting a rewrite! That shouldn't happen (oh by Luna I hope not!), as I'm currently running a two chapter buffer to allow me to do rewrites without having to change anything that was actually 'published'.
All this is new to me, I've never had so many people reading my stuff (it's frankly terrifying that nearly a hundred people read this within the first day).
Anyway, to sum up: only a tiny percentage of readers comment, so anything I get, good or bad, is like gold dust.
700554 Your story is like gold dust! dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/Luna_lolface.png
Now that my curiosity is piqued, what is the average chapter to chapter span on this story? I'm already following it, but I am genuinely curious.
700738
Thank you !
At the moment it's about four weeks and 4-6K words (assuming you meant time and not some other metric), and will probably remain so for the next few chapters at my current rate. Things are not that simple of course; this story has a complicated 'history'. I wrote the first 16K for NaPoWriMo last september - but that covered events a bit further on from what you've seen so far. I'm now in the process of editing it into a fit state to 'publish', and that's inflated the 16K to 50K+ (for example the scribbled phrase 'show gryphon troopers rounding up bystanders' resulted in 15K and some of my favorite bits of world building). Needless to say my long range plan is quite fluid!
700886 " (for example the scribbled phrase 'show gryphon troopers rounding up bystanders' resulted in 15K and some of my favorite bits of world building). Needless to say my long range plan is quite fluid!"
a.deviantart.net/avatars/t/w/twilightsmileplz.png?2
So many words... You can see words within words within words!
It's so beautiful! I think you might be able to see forever!
Now that I finally caught up to the story and my interest is finally peaked I don't need to make myself stay up in the middle of the night to keep reading it and get tired alot. It is a very interesting look on how the ponies came to be the dominent species on the planet or be at least one of those species that rule the planet after this is over. Just like First Pony View it was like reading a story from a more scientific point of view, except you use more "big words" than the author of that story does. There's like detail for almost everything here, and for what was happening to the characters at the time. I eventually got used to it and I enjoyed the latest chapter here which is about the jumpy and excited griffon that caused all of this mess in the beginning, starting from the consequences of his actions that caused too much trouble for everyone else. Now that something exciting happens, I'm guessing more exciting things will happen in the later chapters after the aftermath of this guy's actions has been dealt with and Fusion's reaction to this incident. Keep on writing and the good work.
750647
Glad you like it (late reply is late; I don't get back here that often between updates)! You're right though, there's a certain amount of fallout to come...
700886 Twitcha, twitch! Hmm...
Looks at the date on calendar...
Looks at 4 week old comment...
Looks at author's comment...
4 weeks average between updates...
I knew my wasp and spidey sense was tingling!
i1.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/340/711/b68.jpg
I sure do hope there's an update coming soon! Not sure what to do in the meantime... dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/shrug_Luna_apple.png
855536
That really is a very bad joke...
...but to answer you question, yes, real soon now (just in the process of formatting for FiMFiction). Currently fighting with a flaky net connection while editing on a 5 year old netbook - oh the joys of being away from home!
My good author, you have my attention, and I will soon catch up. I post this because:
I think you meant "dined" here.
That guy. The one with the beak and the attitude. Fuck that guy.
I gather that griffons are not Blessed in the same way as ponies?
Wait, what... sooooo.. The pattern" IS 'The Maker' and, it's actually inside the Masters... they actually have some reason.. Okay, this is just getting REALLY weird and interesting.
'Further'? Well, guess that's just something you have to be ready to deal with when you are a race that can basically make physics your personal toy. Also, wow, nice going with this scene. The Ponies are sapient yet, there is still a large degree of their more primitive animal-ness in them. Enough to be frozen in terror at this sight. Though, he doesn't know what a Griffon is? Okay, that begs the question of why.
Okay, so they DO know about them, but just in general. Given it's a colt, makes sense. Now, the whole chase scene, freaking amazing. Really feel his terror, his fear, understand why, and at the same time, know it's.. hopefully.. unfounded. The griffon isn't trying to kill him, and makes clear he could have at any point. Just, get him back to the group. Granted, who knows what might happen to him then but, at least the griffon itself isn't a direct threat. And he puts up one hell of a fight. And this is just a half trained colt... just picture what a pony with Fusion's level of power could do...... But yeah amazing action scene.
Granted, also a tad, with the story for playing keep away with what's happening to Fusion. So many random new POV characters, and all to keep this thing going. You know how bad we want to get back to her and are doing this to taunt us, aren't you?
So, part of their standard loadout is gear to bind a griffon. interesting. Also, can tell they REALLY aren't prepared for dealing with Ponies given he doesn't even consider that a pony with any kind of skill could fuck him up bad with just their horn.
WHAT!? aaand why am I not surprised we shift to the to eager to not be kind of stupid about things recruit.... yeah this.. is not going to go good.....
Well this is both stupid, and not. Stupid and just a recipe for disaster given we know what's going on, bt, not so much given just what he knows. Expecting a hostile attack on the Hive. Though still, going into unknown situation, unless ordered to go with lethal force from the start, why take the risk?
I notice there is nothing about switching back to the non-lethal ammo
Okay so did switch ammo but, just.. DID YOU MISS THE PART ABOUT ' DO NOT FIRE UNLESS FIRED UPON'!? Well congratulations, your ass is getting tossed out of your little elite training group fast enough to set an academy record. Way to fuck this up for everyone.
On the ponies part, oh fuck yeah. Teach that asshole a lesson!
On the Griffon's part.... No, not kicked out, your ass is going to be fucking fertilizer.. if you are lucky!
So awesome! Again, kick his fucking worthless hide good!
Several things. First, so, more signs that they started as just regular ponies, and something the master's did, changed them. Next, DAMN IT! Was really hoping she was just lining up to give him a nice hard buck.
Need I say it?
Well fuck, and then.. not even TRYING to fight back, THAT fucking controlled!? Fusion hurry up, get back in the spotlight, break free, and fucking DO SOMETHING! about this!
GOOD! Now, to wonder if they keep it up till your a nice crispy roast, or let you come around so you can learn just how royaly fucking STUPID you are.
HOLY SHIT! This chapter was freaking intense. It's been intersting till now but, more in a cerebral way, in making you wonder what was going on, ponder, think, here, holy shit. Not much to really think about just, so much damn epic action and and, just, DAMN!
Only complaint is... now.. need to KEEP reading just.. one more... find out, what happened, to Fusion.....
But really, great job! First the calm, professional soldeir, who knows what he's doing, tries to take the time to calm down the foal he's chasing, deosn't get angry, lash out, but handles things right and, damn I really hope that guy sticks around.
Then... the rookie... the eager, dumbass kid that royal fucks it up for his whole squad by being trigger happy... hope he sticks around a little loner too, just long enough to see how bad he screwed himself. Kind of wish he'd been going after Fusion. THAT would have been entertaining. Crushed flat in ten seconds. Though guess she got the detail of Masters going right for her.
Not a big fan of filler chapters, but I suppose it gave some marginal insight into the gryphon mindset
Yeah, Gunnulf's definitely not earning any love. I can't help but note that I didn't see anything about him switching his ammo back to non-lethal rounds.
More importantly, this chapter shows just how far the mental programming on the ponies goes, and my horror continues unabated.
Wow, not a fan of killing but why couldn't the mayer have taken ONE second longer in the order
You have no idea how relieved I am that gryphons weren't made my diamond Dogs, but were only modified. I think . . .
Did I understand that right?
Ok, my one criticism of this is that the pattern/maker had plenty of ability to modify these creatures, but didn't do shit to change their instincts? That's just stupid. No programming to make ponies recognize gryphons as servants of the master and vice-a-versa? IDK, that last scene, while well written just seems...forced. The pony immediately complies with a master's orders, but not the gryphon?
8413081
Time is working against it; the Pattern built the 'Masters' as a vessel for its dispersed mind, but all that occurred many, many years before the Masters built the ponies and then the gryphons.
The ponies don't normally interact with the military, most have never even seen a gryphon. If they'd been given the right orders at the start, none of this would have even happened. As far as the ponies were concerned, they were under attack. As far as the Masters were concerned, they were under attack. Confusion on both sides, with a bit of stupidity thrown in.
As for the conditioning: pones are conditioned to obey the Masters and act in their best interests, but that's the extent of it; everything else flows from that. Gryphons are not conditioned at all; they are basically soldiers subjected to draconian discipline.
That feeds into the final scene. The gryphon doesn't stop because he was very angry and not under any sort of control, apart from that shock collar. The pony is mentally conditioned and controlled by magic to obey, on pain of extreme pain, so she stops immediately.
8413160
Your last two paragraphs (in your response) are somewhat contradictory. Though I think I understand what you're getting at, there's still some disconnect here. If the gryphons are subjected to 'draconian discipline' there should be next to no breaking of orders, much less what happened with Skysoldat Gunnulf. Just because one form of conditioning is magical and the other is mundane, doesn't mean that the electrical threat of pain should be any less effective. Both should've had a similar response. IRL, soldiers have amazing discipline and their sergeants can't electrocute them...now we're talking about troops that can be electrocuted...
Furthermore, I'm going to correct you. This problem with Skysoldat Gunnulf started well before he was angry, he disobeyed orders from the get-go when he loaded lethal rounds into his firearm...and then the way he landed in the middle of the herd? What? As if that weren't bad enough, he then broke orders again when he fired on unarmed foals who couldn't have possibly fired upon him. Skysoldat Gunnulf literally made this problem by violating orders. Where was all that 'draconian discipline'? I didn't see any discipline on his part. If the Masters' military is anything like our own, he will be lucky to be drummed out with a dishonorable discharge. Seeing as his actions led to the death of civilians, he might not get out of this at all...
8413292
Any discipline applied after the fact is not going to be absolute -- if it was, we'd have no crime (pony conditioning operates at the level of immediate thought, thus is fast, immediate and is never off). Even the most severe punishment will not prevent occasional breeches. Add to that we have the following:
--these are soldiers, not police, and soldiers are not best placed for what should be crowd control; things tend to go badly wrong when people with a killer mindset are in stressful situations for which they have not been trained. This is also not a well-defined team, just a group of trainees.
--gryphons are bred as a soldier species, thus are highly aggressive and with high pain thresholds; shock collars are less effective then you might think in changing their behaviour
--modern, human soldiers can be dedicated and disciplined, but not all are; there are criminals everywhere. Gryphon soldiers are conscripts, they don't volunteer -- at some level they are more like child soldiers than professionals.
--Gunnulf, specifically, is at the more aggressive, less thoughtful end of the personality spectrum, all useful traits for some types of soldiering, but really rubbish for police duty. He is also something of a racist.
Yes, he loaded lethal ammunition, but only after he was attacked. His actions caused this, but from his point of view he was operating within the leeway given to him by his orders. He wanted to scare the ponies, a shock and awe entrance, stupid if you know anything about horses (let alone sapient, magical horses-children -- even Gunnulf realises this when they scatter); once they were running, well he had that less-than-lethal ammunition he was issued with. After that, he was attacked and all bets were off.
I'm not defending his actions -- he was out of bounds, no doubt, but he's not a thinker to start with. He's a trained killer who has just come off an intense spec-ops training program designed to break its inmates mentally and physically.
8414075
First, I'd like to point out once again that your written words and your comments about the nature of these gryphon soldiers are in disagreement. In chapter five, it is narrated that Gunnulf signed up for Combat Flight School (CFS), which seems to imply that he did volunteer, as opposed to being conscripted into the 'regular infantry' or police mentioned in chapter nine. This also seems to imply that this is some sort of special forces (which you said it was, later in your comment), which makes me think he has more than just the twenty days of training in the CFS - special forces IRL are drawn from soldiers who already have training and often have combat experience.
I see your line of logic and where you were coming from writing these chapters, which makes sense in perspective...but suffice it to say I do not agree with the preconceptions you hold on the mindset of soldiers and the nature of (military) discipline. I, as a martial artist, am more of a trained killer than a soldier is. By this, I imply that there is more purpose behind a soldier's 'killer instinct'; getting to the core of their training, they are taught to follow orders and work as a team - they kill to attain a goal. All of that training, 'breaking' that is done to a soldier is to reform them into something more disciplined than the average civilian. Killing for a soldier is an impersonal thing, mostly done at range; what we have here with Gunnulf is the blind rage of an undisciplined predator.
The point of fact is this, none of the gryphons are acting like professional soldiers here. The sergeant in command of this unit was nowhere to be seen until after everything went to hell - this is not how squads operate. Most soldiers on earth are trained how to take prisoners and how to deal with crowds to a certain extent - none of this is evident - and if they are not trained thusly, they would not have been ordered to secure prisoners. And calling a shove an 'attack' is ridiculous, especially when there is no follow-up action. Trust me as a martial artist, if you have time enough to absorb that much about an individual, you have enough time to ascertain their motivation(s).
TL;DR: You may not be openly defending Gunnulf's actions, but you are trying to rationalize them and in doing so, you're apologizing for him.
8414721
Volunteer for CFS, not for soldiering itself, which is what I was referring to. Gryphons have 100% 'employment', be it police, soldier, pilot-farm, but don't get a choice.
They are not quite the same as human soldiers and are not supposed to be. They are treated more like attack dogs than soldiers in the human sense (for that the Masters have their own kind), that is, sapient weapon systems. Gunnulf's actions are more like that of a predator, you are correct. That was the intention; he was becoming increasingly unhinged.
They are not really a squad at this point -- the CFS course they are on is a test for entry, not the training itself, sort of a super competitive 'hell week'; gryphons have been pulled in from multiple different units and didn't know each other -- and have been dumped in a situation beyond their experience (any of their experience, serjants included). Everything broke down. Imagine crowd control where the crowd is composed of panicky children with superpowers.
That's not quite right. What I'm trying to do is get across my thought processes as to what is going on (if it seems a little off the cuff, that's because it is -- I wrote this years ago, and I never made notes).
Teal Deer: Gunnulf is not human, he's not a human soldier, and he's not in a human military.
Curious: Which martial art?
8415022
I am a historical European martial artist - I.e. I fight armed, with swords, polearms and daggers. Unlike eastern traditions, very few of these styles/forms have names, except for who wrote them or the name of the manual. Most of my 'career' has been trying to reconstruct older fighting styles from before the beginning of the 14th Century.
Savage glee doesn't belong in domestic/civilian situations.
[quote}A clever fusion of science and crystal thaumic systems, its superconducting magnetic barrel could take anything from the fat, bean-bag 'non-lethal' thumpers to claw sized hypersonic tungsten needles, able to punch a hole through a paw's width of armour ceramic. Couple that to a shock mount that distributed the recoil force over the whole of a gryphon's body and a fire control system that could dynamically alter the exit trajectory of each projectile... The result was a gun that could fire a ten round burst in less than a hundred milliseconds and put each bullet through the same hole, all while the wielder was running or flapping around the battlefield. The gryphon's thinking in this and the previous paragraph's is fairly cohesive, not as emotionally clouded and irrational as the situation implies. I'm going to assume the majority of his actions are due to anti-pony racism than the frenzied state on mind that the chapter seemed to imply.
Also, there's no science in a gun. A gun is technology, Science is how people discover and learn about the word. It's a small nitpick, but every time it happens, it contributes to the general misunderstanding of science and technology.
I've gotten the impression that the dogs have at least two races serving them here, and one of them is in a military role for some reason.
Damn, you go old pony. Defending them foals like a boss. o7
Also first comment since I started finally reading this series (was on the Madness story and now working my way back to this and it's sequel)
Enjoying it so far, partly wondering how this transitions to Equestria in the end, and mostly just interested in this sci-fi universe you're fleshing out.