Hegira: Eternal Delta

by Guardian_Gryphon

Chapter 47

Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
April 2nd, Gregorian Calendar

The medical bay was absolutely silent, save for the sound of three breathing Gryphons, the hiss of the air vents, and the quiet chirp of April's biosign monitors.

Though no ambient external light could reach into the medbay, Fyrenn's internal clock knew that it was mid-morning, and was making no attempt at hiding its displeasure. He had found his soreness, and exhaustion, relatively easy to ignore for several hours, but at last, they had caught up with him in full.

Neyla had long since fallen into a fitful sleep, having pushed a second biobed alongside April's, and lain down with one wing covering the fledgling.

Fyrenn had tried to keep himself awake with a half-sitting half-kneeling position at April's bedside. He had talked to her, sung for an hour, and spent most of the time bouncing back and forth between uncontrolled weeping, fervent prayer, and total abject lockdown.

Sleep itself had withheld its good graces, but he had finally collapsed into a doze-like state with his tear-soaked face lain out on the biobed next to April.

Somewhere deep down, his half-awake brain knew that the point of no return had come and gone hours previously. But the rest of him was firmly set on remaining in a dazed stupor, so he wouldn't have to face that fact as a true reality.

He sighed deeply, and allowed the tears to flow once more. His body and mind had passed well beyond the stage of a bone-wracking cry, and into the mortified, chilling, burning silence of pure and simple loss.

At first, the red Gryphon missed the movement. He had to raise his head, and play it back in his memory several times before the moment fully imprinted itself on his consciousness.

But as he finally came around to the realization, his beak fell open. April tossed first one way, then the other, gasped fervently, then yawned.

And then her eyes flew open.

"Am I---?"

Fyrenn didn't even wait for her to finish the sentence. Before she could even begin to adjust to her new senses, April found herself swept up into the tightest embrace of her life, cradled in Fyrenn's forelegs, and wings, against his chest.

The uncontrolled wracking sobs returned abruptly, albeit for precisely the opposite reasons.

Fyrenn found himself unable to even form words, he simply babbled incoherently as he held April as close to him as he could, burying her in his chest and neck and cheek and wings. By and by, Neyla became aware of the commotion.

It took the Gryphoness several seconds to fully understand what she was seeing, before she collapsed into the group hug, enveloping both Fyrenn and April in her wings with absolute abandon.

Slowly but surely tears of joy turned to laughter, and laughter to giggles. April sneezed, and the gesture sent all three Gryphons into absolute fits of mirth. The noise brought a Corpsman in from the corridor, who abruptly dashed out and went to notify Chandler.

At long last, after what seemed like hours of laughing, and crying, and rolling around on the floor like cats with string, the three Gryphons managed to achieve upright standing positions.

April stumbled slightly as she got her legs under her, and Fyrenn reached out to steady her, wiping tears from his eyes.

"It really helps if you don't think about it. Focus on something else, like a song or a rhyme, and let the new instincts overwrite the old ones."

April giggled, and beamed. Seeing the expression on her face, now transformed, almost brought Fyrenn to tears again.

"I feel like I've been sleeping funny. All pins and needles. It tickles!"

Fyrenn nodded, and gestured to a wall chronometer.

"You were under for the better part of fifteen hours total. We were afraid you weren't going to come back..."

April tilted her head, and her ears flattened slightly in an expression of confusion.

"I did have a dream, just like you said... But it was kinda different to the way you described. At first, there was just a bunch of streets and alleyways. I was lost inside them. But another nice Gryphon came and helped me out. Then I dreamed about lots of other Gryphons, and beautiful places..."

Fyrenn's eyes narrowed, and his tail swished as a feeling of intense deja vu burst into his chest.

"This other Gryphon... What was he like?"

April smiled.

"He sounded a little like you. But he was all gold... Except for blue bits around his nose and cheeks."

Neyla blinked, and then blinked again, before shooting Fyrenn a glance equal parts stunned shock, and concern.

Fyrenn waved a claw dismissively, suppressing his questions and concerns for April's sake. He pulled the fledgling close to him with his right wing, and sighed deeply.

"It's fine. What matters is that in the end, you did come back."

April beamed once more, stretching her wings experimentally.

"So can I fly?"

Fyrenn chuckled, and shook his head.

"You're old enough, and your instincts are strong... But trust me. You want to get the hang of the legs first."

April's stomach growled loudly, and she giggled once more.

"I want to eat the biggest breakfast *EVER* before I even think about legs and wings."

Neyla nodded, and grinned.

"Aye, and perhaps get a good day's exercise and a good night's sleep first."

Fyrenn raised an eyebrow and his eyes widened.

"Exercise? Absolutely not, I am going to go share that breakfast, then I'm going to pass out and do my best to not have night terrors."

April's beak turned down, and her wings drooped.

Fyrenn sighed, and exhaled slowly.

"Fine. Exercise. Running and leaping and praising God, and all that lovely stuff... But at bare minimum I want about four gallons of joe, and a two hundred degree shower, can you spare me for *that* long?"

April winked, and took a halting step towards the hatchway, splaying her wings for balance.

"I suppose. But it'll cost you."

Neyla chuckled, and nudged Fyrenn with one wing.

"She gets that from you."

The red Gryphon groaned, and shoved Neyla with his right wing.

"Let me see, let me see!"

Skye jostled for a position at the table, finally managing to squeeze between Kephic and Hutch to get a glimpse of the DaTab.

The Unicorn let out something midway between a squeal, and a gale of laughter as she finally saw the image on the screen. Fyrenn had sent nothing save for the image, in order to avoid the need for complex encryption.

The picture had obviously started out as a group shot of Fyrenn, Neyla, and the newly fledged April, taken by an unknown volunteer in what looked to be a ship's mess hall. The intention of a smiling steady group-shot had somehow deteriorated just a moment before the image was taken.

Instead, the photographer had ended up with a picture of April midway through the act of pilfering one of Fyrenn's meat strips from his plate. The red Gryphon had just noticed, and set about batting the fledgling away gently with one wing, also unintentionally delivering a sound smack to Neyla in the process.

The Gryphoness was on the verge of simply boxing Fyrenn's ears with her own wings, and all three Gryphons were clearly laughing as hard as they ever had in their lives.

Carradan chortled, and shook his head slowly.

"I want prints."

Kephic, Hutch, and Aston seemed content to simply smile and enjoy the moment of triumph in relative silence. Even Varan's normally stoic features seemed radiant, in their own way.

"So this is what he meant."

The new voice brought every head in the group around sharply. The sight of the owner resulted in more smiles, mixed with raised eyebrows and tilted heads.

Hutch rose, and extended a hand warmly.

"Sildinar? Not that I'm ever sorry to see you... But what are you doing here?"

The roan Gryphon took Hutch's arm in his equivalent of a handshake, before doing the same with Kephic and Varan, then offering Carradan a hoof-to-claw bump. He flashed Aston a smile of vague recognition, and even found time for a brief hug at Skye's insistence, before responding to the question.

"He didn't tell you? Fyrenn had a missive delivered to me. It was sent some time yesterday morning and arrived by special courier overnight. The tone was exceedingly urgent, so I departed at once. He said he was about to do something that would potentially have vast and troubling legal implications, and he wanted my help and support... Now I think I'm beginning to understand."

Hutch sighed, and gestured to the table, as the group spread out and resumed their usual seating arrangement, making room for the new arrival.

"I think we'd best bring you up to speed. We have good news... And bad news. And more bad news. But I suppose I'd better start from the top..."

"Oh no you *don't!*"

April scowled as Fyrenn skidded to the side, snapped open his wings, and allowed his momentum to lift him several feet off the deck, and well out of her reach.

Her words echoed up and down the hangar as she snapped open her own wings, and made a brave, if slightly ill-advised, attempt at powered flight. The red and tan fledgling made an excellent showing of her attempt, rising swiftly up to deliver a resounding 'THWACK' to Fyrenn's side with one claw.

"Gotcha!"

To her credit, April did not panic when she began to descend once more, instead waggling her wings carefully to guide her body into a gentle spiral, and an amazingly soft landing.

Fyrenn alighted on the steel plating beside her, and grinned widely. A few of the night-shift maintenance workers stopped to offer a round of applause, before returning cheerfully to their equipment.

Fyrenn hugged April to his side briefly with one wing.

"That was very good! Fantastic control! And you didn't overthink it for even a second. You're going to master flying very quickly."

April smiled, and flopped down into a recumbent position, resting her head on crossed forelegs as she spoke, and fought back an enormous yawn.

"Well... I don't see how I could overthink it. Even a short glide... It's as if being free were made into something you could reach out and touch. It's more than anything I'd ever imagined!"

Before Fyrenn had a chance to respond, he spied Neyla's head peeking up through a nearby access hatch. He beckoned with one claw, and chuckled.

"I see we lost you at Charlie-Fifteen. Did the knee-knockers get you?"

The Gryphoness plastered a mock scowl to her face, and leapt effortlessly onto the wing of a parked Scythe, draping herself over the silvery alloy in a pose similar to April's.

"Humans are bad at designing corridors. They are all far too small, too gray, and they are exhausting to traverse at-speed."

Fyrenn chuckled, and stretched, letting out an enormous yawn of his own as he extended his forelegs, wings, and back legs, in careful sequence.

"Say what you will. I think the real issue here is that it has been far too long since we saw the backs of our eyelids. I think we must have run about eleven miles of corridors, not even counting the vertical distances."

April finally allowed herself a yawn as well, and nodded slowly.

"So we get a good night's sleep. Then what?"

Fyrenn carefully lowered himself onto his haunches, and sighed contentedly.

"Then we do a few practice rounds over the bow, where the wind will give you good lift. Hopefully we can leave tomorrow, make a brief stop-over in Manhattan to get the rest of the group, and then we'll go as far as you can manage in a day's flight."

April's face lit up, and the words seemed to fill her with a sudden new rush of energy. She rose, and began loping in circles around Fyrenn, continuing to practice her leg movements as she spoke.

"You mean we're going to Equestria?!"

Fyrenn smiled, and nodded.

"Yes. We're---"

The sentence was cut short by a soft alert tone, and an abrupt change in the ambient lighting. Fyrenn stiffened, and perked one ear as the ship's public address system came online.

"General quarters. General quarters. All hands to action stations."

Fyrenn's instincts told him that the situation was no mere drill, nor simple misunderstanding. His veins seemed to fill with an ice cold wash of anxiety and defensive impetus, as if some sort of monstrous presence had entered the room.

He glanced first at April, then up at Neyla.

"Stay together. The Armory is on deck six, bulkhead Echo-Three. After that, go to the centerline of the hull, deck seven, bulkhead Delta-Four; enlisted crew compartment. It's the safest place on the ship."

As the red Gryphon took off down the hangar deck, towards the nearest access ladder, April called out after him.

"Where are you going?!"

Fyrenn paused, turned, and flashed a comforting smile.

"I'm just gonna make sure whatever we've run across gets the... 'Attention' it deserves."

The bridge was alive with an air of palpable tension, and bustling focused activity.

Fyrenn made his way directly to the center of the long ovoid space, and pulled up short beside Captain Orik. The man kept his gaze fixed on the forward windows and their embedded holo display, but spoke softly from the side of his mouth.

"Unknown surface contact just appeared on short-range LADAR. About twenty seconds later, a swick hydrofoil appeared on scope. It's closing directly on our position, broadcasting an Earthgov priority IFF."

Orik straightened his jacket reflexively, and directed his gaze towards the communications officer.

"Comm, patch my headset through to local broadcast frequencies."

The woman nodded curtly, and tapped several elements of her interface as she responded.

"Patching you through on all official local channels. You are live sir."

The Captain tapped the transmit key on his earpiece, and riveted his eyes once more to the LADAR scope.

"Unknown small craft, this is Battleship North Carolina. You have entered our zone of influence. Identify yourself, over."

There was a long pause, but to Fyrenn's surprise, a male voice suddenly emanated from the bridge's speaker system.

"North Carolina, this is swick-boat four attached to Destroyer UES Ithaca. We're carrying two official Earthgov Legal Executors. We have Council-level authorization to board your vessel and carry out orders on behalf of the Admiralty, and the Council."

Orik's eyes narrowed, and he stepped towards the forward window.

"Transmit your two-step authentication codes."

The Captain gestured to his communications officer to verify the information as it arrived, first in the form of computerized tones, then vocally delivered access sequences via a synthesized voice.

"Tango. One. Seven. Echo. Six. Two. Six. Break. Bravo. Nine. Four. India. Charlie. Niner. Five."

The communications officer leaned in towards her screen, then turned, and nodded slowly as she delivered her verdict.

"The codes are valid. Two high level executors sir, with full Council authority."

Orik sighed, and offered Fyrenn a sideways glance, before tapping his headset once more.

"Swick India-Four, proceed to holding pattern on our port side while we prepare the water garage for arrival. Disarm all weapons systems and standby for further instructions."

The response brought a visible ripple of shock to the bridge crew.

"Negative Battleship Actual. Disengage your fire-control and defensive systems, prepare your port access railing for boarding, and standby to turn over all Marine guards, and command codes, to our officer of the watch."

There was a long pause. Fyrenn could see that Orik was visibly shocked, and affronted, by the abnormality, audacity, and flagrant protocol violations inherent in the orders.

"If you have a Lieutenant Commander Isaac Wrenn aboard, place him under arrest, along with anyone who arrived with him. In particular, he is thought to be travelling with a young child, who should be considered armed and extremely dangerous. Acknowledge receipt of orders."

Orik paused once more, before tapping his headset, his eyes narrowing and his face going taught with controlled anger as he spoke. Fyrenn made his way quickly to the bridge's left lookout wing, and pushed open the hatch as the Captain began speaking in a low, firm tone.

"Your legal authority does not give you the right to countermand my directives as Captain of this ship. Disengage your weapon systems, and adopt the specified holding pattern immediately, or we will deploy water canons."

Fyrenn did his best to keep one ear towards the conversation as he scoured the moonlit sea for the craft. His eyes found the small gray object almost instantly. It's harsh angular lines and the giant spray of water kicked up by its engines were unmistakable.

Though neither the lookout, nor the ship's cameras, could see the faces within the hydrofoil owing to its one-way cockpit glass, Fyrenn's eyes could easily pierce the veil.

He counted a pilot, navigator, gunner, two men in suits, and a dozen heavily armed and armored soldiers in black armor, with no identifying emblems. Along with four Diamond Dogs in similar garb. Three Trolls, and a Vulpine.

Fyrenn stared for several moments, working through the implications of the sight, before turning back to the access hatch, his face hardening in rage.

The red Gryphon strode back onto the bridge just in time to hear the SWCC boat pilot's response.

"Captain Orik, you are hereby relieved. Executive officer, please dismiss the Captain into the custody of the ship's guard, and comply with our previous directives."

Everyone, including Fyrenn froze for a long moment. Orik fixed his XO with a motionless stare. The younger man had a similar build, but much lighter skin, and a shock of wavy brown hair.

To Orik's clear shock, and disdain, the man drew his pistol, and leveled it slowly.

"Captain, as per the official Council directive, you are relieved of your command effective immediately. You will submit yourself to the officer of the watch for incarceration until---"

The man, who's nameplate identified him as commander 'Ward,' paused as Fyrenn turned to the bank of consoles midway between the captain's dais, and the helm. He watched in silence as the red Gryphon moved to stand over the fire control officer, before shifting his pistol abruptly to aim between Fyrenn's shoulder blades.

"HALT! Step away from the console!"

Fyrenn ignored the words, sizing up the array of controls. In the center of the panel was a manual control joystick that the officer could link to any of the ship's guns, large or small, for direct control. The upright screens mostly consisted of gun cameras, range finders, and LADAR scopes.

The waist-level input panels were mostly given over to organizational controls. The majority of the ship's weapons were handled from a separate compartment with dedicated gunners and missile control officers, but the bridge weapons officer acted as the captain's living liaison to the CIC's Tactical Actions officer.

Fyrenn recognized the majority of the controls clustered around the manual stick. He tapped the officer on the shoulder, and pierced him with a firm look. The man obediently shuffled out of his chair, nearly falling backwards as he scrambled to remove himself from the Gryphon's line of sight.

Fyrenn's expression was so visibly terrifying, that Ward's expression had taken on more panic than anger or frustration. His tone reflected a similar change.

"LAST CHANCE LIEUTENANT!"

Fyrenn continued to ignore the man, flicking several physical switches and swiftly tapping out a series of commands on the nearest touch panel. The central guncam screen switched to a forward view, and dutifully overlaid a detailed rangefinder readout.

Out on the forward deck, a smaller vertical cylinder between the two main turrets irised open, and a menacing cluster of rotating barrels pivoted outwards, locking into place with the clank and hiss of magnetic bolts.

The sound was immediately followed by a pistol shot. Deafening in the close confines of the bridge. Fyrenn found it easy to shift his body to the side with plenty of room to spare. Ward's finger was shaking so badly, that he had telegraphed his actions well over a second in advance.

A brief struggle between Orik, the helmsman, and Ward ensued, during which Fyrenn took the opportunity to carry out his actions unmolested.

Lining up the SWCC hydrofoil was pure child's play. Though it was difficult to acquire a LADAR lock-on, and though even the visual target acquisition system was largely disrupted by the boat's intentionally stealthy lines, Fyrenn's eyes were considerably harder to elude.

Using the guncam, the rangefinder, and a few quick glances out the window, Fyrenn placed the craft in precisely the right location, relative to his sights, to account for the North Carolina's movement, the hydrofoil's movement, and ambient wind.

Just as he completed the task, Orik managed to force Ward against the room's central holotank with the aid of his helmsman, slamming the XO's hand against the steel edge of the console over and over, until the pistol fell from his fingers.

Orik glanced up, and just barely had time to let out a deafening shout.

"DON'T!"

Fyrenn stiffened, and squeezed the joystick's main trigger forcefully.

Night turned to day on the foredeck. Accompanied by the piercing whine of a turbine, an all-encompassing roar, akin to a passing maglev, washed over the front of the ship. A vivid yellow and orange streamer burst from the front of the Helios gun, crossing the space between Battleship and Hydrofoil in less than half a second.

So many rounds exited the muzzle per second, that it looked as if a single pure jet of contained neon flame had been unleashed on the small craft. The vessel instantly disintegrated as two hundred half-ton tungsten slugs impacted the object with every tick of the clock, at nearly seventeen times the speed of sound.

Fyrenn held the trigger in for almost five seconds, not content with simply shredding the vessel. When he finally released the stick, his acute gaze told him that there was quite literally nothing left, metallic or biological, that was larger than a thumbnail.

Steel, bone, organs, fuel, titanium, plexiglass, and tungsten had all been reduced to nothing more than particulate confetti, strewn out across a churned patch of burning sea.

Silence reigned for nearly another five seconds, before Orik strode forcefully to the front of the bridge.

"Are you out of your goddamn *MIND?!* You just fired on a friendly vessel!"

Fyrenn rose to his hind legs, and crossed his forelegs as he moved away from the fire-control station.

"Oh, I'm sorry Captain. I must have mistaken their blatant combative overtures, an act of rank insubordination from your own XO, the presence of unmarked Diamond Dog mercenaries, and their generally suspicious and belligerent behavior for *something else!*"

"CAPTAIN!"

All eyes shifted abruptly to the LADAR officer as he clutched his headset with one hand, and gestured to the central display panel with the other.

"Contact surfacing! We've been painted with active targeting LADAR!"

The North Carolina's defensive AI automatically sounded general quarters once more, and dimmed the bridge lighting to a red combat-alert state. Distant thrums, clanks, and hisses heralded the deployment of smaller turrets and CIWS guns as the ship's defense systems came online autonomously.

Fyrenn stepped back to the window, and watched as the distant vessel surfaced in a huge fan-tail of salty spray.

He glanced back at Orik, and shook his head.

"That's not a destroyer."

"Battleship North Carolina; This is Arsenal Ship Agincourt. You will disable all active and passive weapons systems, cut your engines, and prepare for boarding operations!"

The LADAR officer shook his head slowly, and turned to face Orik.

"Ship's profile matches nothing in the database, and she's not transmitting any IFF. Reads at a similar tonnage to a battlecruiser, but we're being pinged with over one *hundred* and fifty concurrent missile lock-on spot-beams."

Orik stiffened, and his eyes widened. He exhaled sharply, and shook his head.

"I really hate to admit it Fyrenn, but I'm starting to think perhaps you were right about... At least one thing..."

The Captain straightened his jacket, and nodded curtly.

"All engines ahead. Full military thrust. Assign main guns, torpedoes, and VLS to kill track two four eight. Task all other armaments with missile defense. Standby to fire on my order."

The helmsman relinquished his grip on Ward as two Marine guards entered with rifles readied. He ducked behind his console, and began to carry out his orders.

"All engines ahead flank, full military thrust aye! All hands, brace for combat maneuvers! Officer of the watch, batten down the ship! Secure outer hatches!"

The weapons officer likewise resumed his seat, and began furiously working his panel, speaking quietly into his headset to avoid contributing to overall bridge noise levels.

"All turrets load standard armor piercing rounds, configure for mid-range attack profile. Rotate zero-three-five degrees relative, zero-one-two degrees true. TAO: Set elevation for target at distance one point four kilometers. Assign VLS tubes one thru twenty to KKMD and place concurrent missiles into the reload pool. Forward torpedo tubes to standby, and prepare for rapid fire deployment. Helios, CIWS, and gimbal-guns reconfigure for anti-missile operations."

As the ship began to accelerate forcefully, Orik tapped his headset, glowering in the direction of the front windows. Fyrenn watched intently as the main turrets rotated gradually, but steadily to face their assigned vectors.

"Agincourt; You are not transmitting a valid IFF, and we do not recognize you as a commissioned ship of the Navy. Secure your weapons systems, come to a full stop, and surrender immediately, or we will open fire."

The weapon's officer stiffened, as a series of piercing staccato alarms filled the compartment.

"VAMPIRE VAMPIRE!! Inbound supersonic heavy missiles on high-arc attack vectors, TAO, kill with Helios and sea-whizz!"

Orik gestured to an officer on the starboard side of the compartment as he leaned forward and gripped the nearest railing.

"Deploy Electronic countermeasures! Helm, prepare for a hard port turn! All hands, brace for inbound ordinance! Standby for medical and damage control operations!"

The Captain turned to face the holotank, watching intently as the small scale semi-transparent models updated to reflect changing conditions. Fyrenn dropped to all fours, and dug in with all his claws.

Orik squinted out the front window, and nodded to the weapon's officer.

"TAO: Free all weapon mounts and engage to destroy. Rapid simultaneous fire of all assigned weapons to kill track two four eight!"

"Killing track two four eight, AYE! All personnel, make ready for main-gun operations! Clear all spaces on fore and aft upper decks!"

Following a special klaxon, an unholy din ensued that taxed even Fyrenn's aural endurance. The bridge windows automatically dimmed, then went dark as blast shields irised into place. The view was quickly replaced with a true-to-life computer generated rendering, complete with tactical overlay.

The main guns came to life with a sound roughly equivalent to ground-zero of a nuclear detonation, physically rocking the ship slightly each time they cycled in-spite of AI controlled gyros and thrusters designed to mitigate the effect.

The deck plating was practically electrified with vibrations as missiles spun up and were cut loose as fast as the reloader mechanism could slot them, and the ship's AI could assign tracking vectors. The distinctive rumble of supercavitating torpedoes leaving the hull punctuated the bedlam at intervals.

The cacophony only got worse as the ship's Close-In weapons, Rail-Saws, Gimbal turrets, and Helios guns came alive, desperately trying to eliminate the hundreds of missiles pouring forth from the Agincourt.

Though the general commotion was reduced to vaguely livable levels by the sound baffling of the bridge's hull casing, Fyrenn was reminded forcefully that the crew wore noise-cancelling headsets for good reason. He locked his own internal ear-plates down to provide a similar effect.

The surviving warheads from the enemy's first salvo hit with incredible force, rolling the ship almost seven degrees and knocking it slightly off course.

An officer to the rear of the bridge shouted into her headset frantically.

"Thirty direct impacts!! Armor belts are reduced by one-third integrity on starboard side! Damage control reports several snapped structural members at bulkhead Alpha on deck four! Two dead, fifteen severely wounded!"

Orik hissed, and winced reflexively.

"DAMMIT! What are they hitting us with?!"

Fyrenn shouted loudly to make himself heard over the noise, and through the added barrier of Orik's headset.

"They said Arsenal ship! And Judging by the number of concurrent missile launches, that's a well earned designation! I'd guess they're using rapid-fire anti-ship cruise missiles with over-packed warheads, and linking C&C to their own internal servers to make up for the loss of onboard AI components!"

Orik gestured to the LADAR officer emphatically.

"How bad have we hit them?!"

The man shook his head, his eyes widening.

"They're using the ship's low-slung profile to put waves between them, and our main guns. Our missiles aren't doing anything at all, though we managed to score one torpedo hit, and graze their bowsprit with the aft Helios. Minimal damage!"

The weapons officer adjusted his microphone and spoke rapidly.

"Torpedoes inbound! The enemy has launched SIX torpedoes and TWENTY mines! TAO reports fire control LADAR is having trouble locking onto the enemy craft!"

The Captain dipped his head, and exhaled sharply.

"We're at a disadvantage at this range! Prepare for EMCON one, and rig ship for a crash dive! Keep firing until we're ready to submerge! Comm: Dispatch wideband distress signal on all channels and specifically contact Indianapolis. Request long-range fire support and an air strike package! Tell them we can't risk launching our own birds in close prox to this kind of missile threat."

Orik turned to the helmsman and gestured to his left.

"Hard port turn, then move into random evasive! Prepare all thrusters and directional planes for a diving maneuver and reset ballast control system! LADAR, paint the target and log speed, direction, and past maneuvers to transmit to Indianapolis for predictive firing."

The North Carolina rocked savagely once again as another spread of warheads found their way through the defense grid.

"All hands! Brace for emergency maneuvers!"

"Sir! I'm receiving a distress call."

The Indianapolis' Captain narrowed his eyes, and moved to lean over his communications officer's panel.

"Details."

"IFF pings the origin as FBB-Fifty Five, Battleship North Carolina, operating south-southeast of here in grid ten-twelve. They are painting an unidentified heavy-tonnage vessel and reporting appreciable damage to their outer hull. Captain Orik is requesting long range Railgun support and deployment of our Scythes."

The Captain narrowed his eyes, and nodded.

"Wake the flight crews. I want birds up in five, configured for heavy surface attack. Lock all railguns on North Carolina's designated kill tracks and begin immediate bombardment when ready."

The man turned, and raised the volume of his voice, depressing an intercom key on the nearest bulkhead comm station.

"General quarters, general quarters. All hands to battle stations. This is not a drill. Alpha-shift to primary combat positions and prepare for long-range active support maneuvers."

The Captain released the intercom key, and darted to the front of the bridge.

"Helm, left standard rudder. Engines to quarter thrust. Get us to an unencumbered firing position, and prepare to set sea anchors fore and aft."

"Sir, according to SatVision telemetry, friendly birds are airborne and en route! ETA ten minutes! Indianapolis is preparing to rake our designated kill track with long range bombardment."

Orik nodded, and dug in his heels.

"Weapons: Ceasefire! Set EMCON one throughout the ship! Helm, begin crash drive procedures!"

Fyrenn sighed, and once again dug into the deck plating with his claws.

"This was never all that smooth, even in a destroyer."

The Captain inclined his head, and exhaled slowly.

"Well it's this, or sink."

The LADAR officer gestured to the holotank as the helmsman set about changing the settings on his control panel.

"Sir! Enemy contact is breaking pursuit. It looks as if they've detected the incoming aircraft, as well as our target painting beamriders."

Orik shook his head, then fixed his gaze firmly to the fore of the ship.

"Maintain original course and orders. I'm not chancing another joust with that thing today."

The Battleship once again groaned under stress as the deck pitched forward sharply. Water burst upon the forward viewscreen, and within seconds, the vessel had vanished entirely from the surface.

Gradually, the craft began to level out. And silence finally descended again.

Orik released his white-knuckled grip on the railing, and sighed.

"Get me complete damage and casualty reports. Have damage control prioritize structure and engine damage. Make course for the Port of New York and run silent. No transmissions of any kind save for an encrypted microburst report to naval command every two hours."

A the Captain turned to leave, he leveled a finger at Fyrenn.

"I knew you were going to cause trouble as soon as you set claw on my ship. I just didn't realize some of my people would have to die as a result."

The red Gryphon glowered, and hissed.

"Your men died to protect an innocent child, because you didn't listen to my warning. They did their duty, just like any of us would. And if you keep pointing that finger at me, I'm going to take it from you, for my next meal."

Author's Note:

Tracks:
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[TBA]

Comments

[williamcll]

I wonder how far can fyrenn's death threats would go.

[Guardian_Gryphon]

5266971
Well... Considering he just atomized an ostensibly 'friendly' craft with zero warning... I'd say they go as far as he says they do.