Chapter 53
Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
April 5th, Gregorian Calendar
Alyra rushed forward to greet Fyrenn as he descended with the final two children on his back. Though Neyla's idea had robbed him of the challenge of landing a Javelin with a broken nose-gear, he was visibly relieved that the Gryphoness had broached her concept.
Neyla had simply pointed out that the Javelin's lowest speed before stall was slow enough to allow a Gryphon to catch up, and board the craft through the rear cargo ramp. Given that the jet was fueled for a long-haul flight, it had more than enough resources to circle slowly and steadily until Neyla, Varan, Kephic, and Sildinar could unload all its occupants.
In the end, Fyrenn had volunteered to take the last two children, while Neyla secured Councilor Loryss. The Javelin was disposed of by flying it to a safe position over the harbor, then aiming it at the barrier. The immolation would take care of any chance at dangerous falling debris. And Fyrenn thought it made for excellent fireworks, though he felt sorry to see the aircraft go in a small sense.
He knelt and embraced his daughter with a wide smile, while the two children scrambled off his back and dashed across the taxiway to the remainder of the group. Hutch had come down from his sniper's nest, and was tending to the young ones along with Skye, and Carradan.
The latter was being swamped by the youngest five members of the group, eliciting a long, mirthful laugh from Kephic as he watched from a safe distance.
Sildinar and Varan were standing over four high ranking officers, and one armor clad soldier; The only enemy survivors of the incident, aside from Loryss. All four men were being held in a kneeling position by hand and leg cuffs, as well as their justified fear of their fierce captors.
The latter Gryphon quickly stepped up to relieve Neyla of Loryss. The woman was sporting several deep, painful-looking puncture wounds in her arms and shoulders. Neyla had not taken any pains to be a polite hostess.
The Gryphoness briefly relinquished the wriggling, protesting woman into the care of her companion, so she could set about removing the hardened case strapped between her shoulders.
The object had been latched underneath the Councilor's seat, so Neyla had deemed it worth removing for closer examination.
She gently laid the bulky gray object to rest of the tarmac, and forced the locks open with a grunt, and a sharp burst of exertion from her claws. The lid popped off, and Fyrenn leaned over to glance at the case's contents.
He glowered, and pulled away, shooting a death glare at Loryss as Varan and Sildinar held her in a none-to-gentle pair of vice like grips. Neyla glanced at Loryss, then at Alyra, then at Fyrenn, and finally at the gaggle of smiling, laughing children.
Her face hardening by turns until it reached an expression of rage so pure the red Gryphon actually felt his heart skip several beats. After a long pause, the Neyla closed the case, and shoved it firmly into Fyrenn's claws. She stepped forward, and wrenched Loryss out of Varan's care.
Neyla gestured to the nearest hangar, and began to shove Loryss along, giving the woman no say in her direction, nor speed.
Fyrenn kept his beak shut, and followed, wondering precisely what the Gryphoness intended to do by way of channeling her unchecked fury. Sildinar and Varan offered questioning glances, but did not protest audibly.
Alyra made as if to follow, but Fyrenn paused, and jerked his head back towards his brother, and the prince.
"Stay with them. This is not for you to see."
The fledgling opened her beak to protest, but Fyrenn shook his head solemnly.
"In spite of all you've been through? I don't think this is something you're ready to live with. Please stay."
Alyra held her position, staring defiantly up at Fyrenn. He set down the case momentarily, and pulled his daughter close with one wing.
"I promise you; She will not leave that hangar alive, regardless. It ends here. But how it ends is something potentially a little too gruesome for you. Especially after what happened to Sonya."
Fyrenn released the fledgling, and cupped her chin gently in one claw.
"Be brave. Help the other children to realize that they're safe now, and do your best to keep them calm and hopeful. I'll be back. Soon."
Fyrenn arrived to find the hangar shrouded mostly in darkness. A single arc-lamp had been set up alongside a maintenance tool cart, and a steel worktable. A pair of VTOLs sat silently in the back right corner, presenting the vague image of slumbering sentinel Dragons.
Neyla stood over Loryss, who sat in a half-crouching. half lying-down position on the table, the Gryphoness' claws held directly to her throat. As Fyrenn approached, he caught the tail end of the woman's latest string of empty threats.
"You mongrel! I will not stand for this! I am a *Councilor,* and you will face a FIRING SQUAD for what you've done here today! Do you understand me?!"
Fyrenn dropped the case onto the work cart, producing a loud thud that made Loryss jump, and cut her throat painfully on Neyla's talons.
"You're the one facing the firing squad today. I gave you warning. I told you what would happen if you pursued that child. If you crossed my family."
Loryss spat to the side, and shook with pent up anger.
"I gave those children... I gave the Human RACE, a GIFT! One you threatened to take away! The Twelfth Echelon of the Earthgov charter articles of protection gives me the RIGHT! And when my colleagues---"
The red Gryphon leaned in, and allowed his hot, angry breath to wash over Loryss' face as he lowered his tone to an almost-intimate, yet quiveringly rage-filled volume.
"Your colleagues are all either dead, or cut off from their last vestiges of support. Proof of your crimes is littered across that tarmac, and half this city. When the media begins to dig, more and more will come to light with every passing day. Any remaining followers of your sick little echelon will be hunted like rabid dogs, and put down in the street..."
Fyrenn pulled back, and crossed his forelegs, glowering.
"As for you? I'm going to do the worst thing I can imagine to you."
The red Gryphon sat back on his haunches, and ruffled his wings into a comfortable position, smirking slightly as he continued.
"I'm going to let *her* do as she will with you. If you think *I* caused carnage and pain?"
Fyrenn exchanged a grim look with Neyla, and inclined his head.
"Well... She is an enraged mother, and a Gryphoness. The deepest circle of Hell will be kinder to you. And much less painful."
Neyla opened the case, and calmly began rifling through the tool cart beneath it.
"Don't take his word for it..."
She withdrew a series of cable ties, and stood over Loryss with a triumphant, mortifyingly predatory smirk.
"When I'm finished with you? You'll be able to make the comparison for yourself."
Neyla spun the Councilor over onto her back, and began roughly securing her wrists and ankles to the four posts of the table. Loryss squirmed, and began to hyperventilate.
"Unhand me, NOW! Just what do you think you're DOING?!"
The Gryphoness placed her head alongside Loryss' left ear as she calmly extracted two objects from the hardened security case.
"There is a legend among my kind. About a demon who sought to rob a mother of her fledgling. The mother pursued the demon from one side of the world to the other, then into the depths of Hades itself. With her bare claws she fought the demon, defeated her, and tore her limb from limb. From that day on, not even Discord himself would deign to lay a claw on one of the young under our protection, for fear of our mothers. Your species needs a similar example. And I'm going to leave them with one they will be hard pressed to dismiss."
Neyla set the menacing gunmetal gray objects down on the worktable where Loryss could just make them out from the corner of her eye. The woman squirmed harder, and her breathing again intensified, as she recognized the objects.
"NO! You can't! They'll... AUUUGH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!"
Loryss cried out as Neyla calmly flicked out a single index talon, and made a brutally efficient incision from the bottom of the Councilor's neck, to the bottom of her spine, cutting through both clothing and flesh effortlessly.
Neyla nodded slowly as she retrieved the first two nano spikes, examining them momentarily as she spoke.
"They'll what? Eat you alive? If I understand the technology rightly, then yes... Because your lifecode bearing organisms are too old, and not nearly malleable enough, the billions of tiny devices in these spikes will consume you, inch by inch. The same way they consumed those that you ordered executed with the 'failsafe.' As for whether I can or can not?"
The Gryphoness drove the spikes into Loryss' spine at forty five degree angles, exerting enough force to completely implant the devices. The tips of the spikes irised open, interlinking to form the first familiar looking plate of a spinal psionic implant.
"I most certainly can. And I will not be able to rest until I have."
Loryss continued to scream incoherently, shooting Fyrenn a look that begged for the mercy of a swift death. As Neyla continued to implant the spikes by pairs, the red Gryphon shrugged, and re-settled his wings once more.
"Don't look to me. I couldn't stop her even if I wanted to. And I certainly don't want to."
As the final spikes locked into place, the device came online as a whole, and began to flood the Councilor's bloodstream with aggressive pre-programmed nanoparticles. The trillions of microscopic devices quickly began to latch onto cells, attempting to forcibly modify their genetic code according to their built in directives.
Loryss writhed, and screamed, as her skin began to take on a deathly gray pallor. Fyrenn narrowed his eyes, and braced himself. He knew the worst was yet to come.
The sun was blood-red as it crested the Equestrian horizon. A roiling morass of storm clouds filled the majority of the eastern sky, thickly laden with the promise of clean rain as they tracked slowly westward towards the city.
The tarmac at the Skyport had become a dizzying crush of activity. A dozen fire suppression vehicles were clustered around the blackened wreck of the second Javelin. A row of medical vehicles from the city coroner's office were lined up to cart away the dead, and the entire area was surrounded by military APCs and VTOLs.
Hutch, Sildinar, Stan, and Skye had long since departed along with the rescued children. Everyone in the group had agreed that there was no sense in risking further deaths, so they had opted to refuse city services access to the young ones, instead spiriting them away to the Bureau for treatment from trusted personnel.
Alyra, Kephic, and Varan had stayed to wait for Fyrenn and Neyla, and to ensure that evidence implicating Echelon Twelve would not be tampered with.
The whole scene was bathed in a dizzying array of colored flashes from emergency vehicle lights. Smoke and steam wafted gently away from the wreck of the Javelin, and the air was heavily laden with the sound of hurriedly barked commands, and idling engines.
The conversations abruptly died as Fyrenn and Neyla exited the hangar. Gradually, all activity in the area ceased, as personnel turned to see what was transpiring, and became transfixed with the gruesome, terrifying sight.
Fyrenn trudged purposefully, but sedately along the tarmac, a bleached Human skeleton clutched in his foreclaws, sporting a series of unnerving gray spikes protruding from its spine. Neyla walked beside him at a similar pace, brandishing a steel piece of rebar, with a crudely sharpened tip.
All eyes remained silently fixed on the pair, until they reached the other Gryphons. Wordlessly, Neyla handed Alyra the impromptu spear, with a curt nod.
Fyrenn continued walking towards the wreck of the jet, pausing only when he reached what remained of the tail section. Alyra followed, a cold rage overtaking her visage as she hefted the sharpened steel bar.
The red Gryphon silently placed Loryss remains against the side of the tail, and stepped away. Alyra pierced the corpse momentarily with a searing glare, before abruptly hefting the rebar once more, and loosing it with surprising strength for a young fledgling.
The improvised weapon skewered what was left of Loryss' stark white skull, pinning the pitiful remains of her body to the charred tail section of the plane, like a roach pinned to the floor with a carpet tack.
The four remaining prisoners gasped and blanched. One of the officers, a General who's nameplate identified him as 'Branson,' even vomited. The other officials had shoulder bars identifying them as Commanders.
With barely a pause, Fyrenn turned and strode over to the four men. He stood glowering down at their shaking forms for a long moment, before slowly withdrawing his RAC. As he moved to stand behind the first officer in the line, he spoke atonally, and firmly.
"You stand accused of kidnapping. Slavery. Torture of innocents. Murder. Sedition. Treason. And Conspiracy. You have butchered the lives of innocent children to enrich your standing, and political power."
Fyrenn leveled the rifle at the back of the first officer's head, and jammed the point of the weapon into the small of the man's neck. The Gryphon continued speaking unabated as the general whimpered, pleading for his life in an incoherent stream of words.
"Among my kind, the non commutable, non appealable sentence for such actions, regardless of who committed them, when, where, extenuating factors, or under what authority their punishment would otherwise rest... Is immediate death. Prepare yourself."
Before anyone could object, Fyrenn pulled the trigger, mercilessly reducing the man's head to a fine mist to the backdrop of an ear-ringing report. The red Gryphon moved calmly down the line, repeating the motion for each prisoner in turn, ignoring their screams for mercy, and the horrified expressions of the Human onlookers.
Once the task was complete, Fyrenn reattached the rifle to its hardpoint, and moved wordlessly to stand with his family.
As silently as they had arrived, the Gryphons grouped together, opened their wings, and departed, leaving behind a shocked and terrified group of witnesses to the gruesome, and well deserved end of Menere Loryss, and the remainder of the Twelfth Echelon's primary military officer board.
Mr. Utah gazed on with cool dispassion as the enormous crane went to work. Under the watchful eyes of several scientists and a dozen technicians, the huge clamp dropped several feet, and delicately snagged its target.
The enormous silvery chamber was one of six identical objects. Each measured five feet in diameter and ten in height. The outer casing made it easy to distinguish a clear series of entwined inner tubes, filled with a milky white gas. Each tube was capped at both ends by a laser emitter, which was in turn hardwired into the cylinder's end pieces.
Half of the devices had already been loaded onto wide-body flat-bed trucks. Another three vehicles sat idling and empty at the end of the warehouse, awaiting the remainder of the objects.
Mr. Utah sighed, and prepared to extract and light one of his cigarettes. To his annoyance, he was interrupted by the hurried sound of footsteps to his left. The expression on Minos face as he made eye contact did very little to improve Mr. Utah's sudden downturn in mood.
"You have to pack it in. We're blown."
Mr. Utah calmly extracted his cigarette, paused to light it, then gave Minos a sideways glare that froze the man in his tracks.
"Explain. Concisely, and without your usual penchant for exaggeration and hyperbole, if that's not too much trouble."
Minos returned the glower, but maintained his concerned tone, gesticulating rapidly with both hands as he spoke.
"The Echelon has been combating a new threat over the last week... A red Gryphon who somehow stumbled onto our work due to a breach in OpSec. I just got word from one of our last surviving cells... Just about everyone else is dead. That includes one of our five Councilors, two high ranking Generals, the Admiral who funnels resources into the Agincourt project, and over a dozen other mid-level officers. To say nothing of the hundreds of dead soldiers."
The man leaned in and lowered his tone, a note of panic creeping into his voice as Mr. Utah took a thoughtful pull on his cigarette.
"This... *Thing,* and a handful of its allies, just blew the lid off a four-decade endeavour inside a week! We even threw our best non-Human asset at this thing, and it got sent back to us, literally, as a skinned carcass."
Mr. Utah exhaled a puffy cloud of smoke, and turned to face Minos directly.
"I know of this particular Gryphon. He has damaged the Front's interests severely, on at least two major occasions that we know of. Has Agincourt itself been compromised?"
Minos shook his head, leaning to the left to avoid the vaporized nicotine.
"One of the last cells is comprised of the ship's crew, and the other Admiral in our inner circle. They fled to open water the moment they received the news, and they're standing by for my instructions... I'm one of the only ranking members left, and our other Councilors can't risk contact."
Mr. Utah nodded slowly, taking another pull on his cigarette, then turning to face the crane as it deposited the fourth cylinder onto a waiting truck.
"Get in touch with your remaining Councilors and inform them of what is about to occur, so they can be prepared to make maximum use of it. Then contact Agincourt and have them standby for a secure rendezvous location in the south Atlantic. Nothing has transpired that need prevent us from accomplishing our goal."
Minos scowled, and shook his head, levelling a finger at Mr. Utah.
"You are taking a ridiculous risk already with this operation. Didn't you people learn anything when you almost snuffed out a whole CITY in an attempt to kill just two of the Equines?! The shadows are your ally, and the court of public opinion is moronic, and fickle. To be honest, I don't see why I should maintain contact with you at all after today. I no longer have any superiors forcing me to co-operate for the sake of their agendas."
Mr. Utah raised an eyebrow, and exhaled another cloud of smoke, his tone remaining surprisingly even, as he carefully phrased his response.
"You will do as I ask, and cooperate fully, for two reasons. The first, and most pragmatic is that I will personally see to it the red Gryphon learns of your precise whereabouts if you don't. The second is that this joint operation represents the best chance we have to put an end to non-Human military, economic, and social primacy on this planet, permanently. So do as I have asked, or be prepared to face a most unpleasant end."
Minos fixed Mr. Utah with a long, hate-filled stare, before snorting, and making his way off down the length of the warehouse, mumbling under his breath all the while.
"I knew a relationship with these idiots was a bad idea..."
Fyrenn sighed contentedly, and rolled his shoulders, before returning his attention to the DaTab propped against the nearest pillow.
Though it had only happened days before, there was no evidence left of the assault that had broken the room's window, damaged the door, and strewn blood across half the carpet. The space was once again clean, orderly, and laid out in its familiar configuration.
With the majority of Echelon Twelve dead, and the rest clearly too terrified to make themselves known, shrinking away in a fruitless attempt to dodge intensifying media scrutiny, Fyrenn had felt it safe to return to the Bureau. He had no desire to deal with Captain Orik any longer, and he wanted Alyra to be surrounded by furnishings more comfortable than the ones a Battleship could offer.
Evening's dimness had come early to Manhattan, hastened by the steady drumbeat of heavy rain as it streaked down the windows, ran through the gutters, and washed away the last remains of litter from the city's civilian occupants.
The news media seemed unable to decide which story merited more coverage; The way Fyrenn had helped uncover a serious internal government conspiracy that was experimenting on Human children, or the fact that only Bureau, Consec, JRSF and military personnel were left in the city.
The last straggling civilians had been forced out earlier in the morning, and many of the military personnel had been evacuated as well. All that remained were a few guards, and technician break-down crews responsible for stripping the city of its resources over the next month, working ahead of the barrier as it ate away at the structures.
The bubble was not slated to actually begin consuming the city-proper until the morning of the seventh, but the government had felt it prudent to keep all civilians as far out of the line of danger as possible.
Fyrenn had spent the entire day lazing around his nest of pillows, allowing his injured bones and muscles a much needed steaming shower, and many hours of rest and gentle stretching.
Alyra had napped for several hours herself, before insisting on some exercise and a meal. Fyrenn had obliged her on the latter, but allowed Neyla to oversee the former. When the majority of the red Gryphon's rage had faded away, it had left him with an incredible deficiency of energy.
He had been running so long on adrenaline, hatred, and a longstanding lack of sleep, that he found it stunning he could keep his eyes open at all. The only reason he even made an effort was to maintain some semblance of a proper circadian rhythm. He didn't want to allow himself to nod off until sunset at the earliest.
After her exercise and a meal, Alyra had opted to move straight into evening preparations. Though thrilled to learn that she would never need to brush her beak, she had soon discovered that she would need preening lessons. Neyla had volunteered to teach her.
Fyrenn glanced up as the door to the room hissed open, and Alyra made her way slowly inside, pausing to let out an enormous yawn, and a reflexive stretch. Behind her Neyla smiled, winked, and turned to return to her own room.
The red Gryphon dipped his head and smiled in thanks, before glancing down at Alyra. He shivered reflexively from a peculiar mix of joy, and eerie shock, as he stopped to appreciate just how much Alyra looked like the biological descendant of himself, and Neyla.
The fledgling returned his smile, then sighed and glanced down. Fyrenn tilted his head, and inhaled deeply.
"Something wrong?"
Alyra shook her head briefly, then nodded weakly.
"I just... I couldn't help thinking of Sonya. Everything has changed for me... And in the best ways, but I wish she'd been here to share that. I'm free now, but... What does my future look like exactly, without her in it?"
The fledgling sighed once more, and began making her way towards her pallet. Fyrenn reached out with one wing and stopped her, gesturing with a claw towards the space between him, and the nearest cluster of pillows.
Alyra smiled sadly once more, and leapt gracefully onto the nest-like bed. Fyrenn folded his wing fully over her as she took up a stomach-oriented sleeping position mimicking his. The red feathers formed a warm, protective canopy together with his side.
He switched off the DaTab and tossed it lightly onto the desk, before lowering his head, and tucking it to the left slightly.
"Your future is going to be wonderful. We're going to leave here as soon as the other children are taken care of. And then we're going to Equestria."
Fyrenn smiled, and shifted slightly as Alyra snuggled into his side, and the mattress, yawning once more and closing her eyes.
"Your future is the sharp, sweet tang of pine trees. The cool fresh joy of a drink from a mountain stream. The sun peeking between high, white clouds, out of a piercingly blue sky, to warm the feathers of your back. Your future is the thrill of the hunt, and the fulfillment of fighting to protect the things in the world that truly matter."
The red Gryphon reached for the nearest control pad, and lowered the room's lights. For the first time, no artificial city-light spilled in through the room's immense window. The structures beyond the plate-glass were cast only in the silvery tones of Equestrian moonlight.
Fyrenn closed his eyes and slowed his breathing as he continued.
"Your future is the taste of real, fresh, well seasoned meat. The scent of tempered leather, hot steel, and wood shavings. The sensation of a clear, clean, living breeze, and fresh cold drops of rain."
The red Gryphon squeezed his daughter gently with his wing, before lowering his voice nearly to a whisper, as he felt her breathing slow and dip into slumbering patterns.
"Your future is a whole new culture, and history, and language to explore. Your future is to have a father, and a mother, and a whole family of others, who love you deeply and unconditionally. Every day. From now, until forever. Your future is joy.
Fyrenn briefly opened one eye, and noted that Alyra was smiling as she drifted further and further from consciousness. The red Gryphon found himself smiling as his eyes teared up ever so slightly. He began to hum another of his mother's lullabies as both he, and Alyra drifted away.
For one night at last, total peace descended, in body and mind, for Fyrenn and his family.
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Loryss got what she deserved, an ironic and violent death
I would assume the other children are unsuited to ponydom by the life fored upon them. Does this mean that there will be an influx of fledglings needing families?
5293455
So deeply satisfying to write.
5293883
You'll see...
I will say that some fraction of them may in-fact be suitable. Particularly the youngest ones. The rest may find refuge with other species as well, however. Zebra have a more rough-and-ready culture than Ponies, and many subspecies of Dragon have a similar warrior spirit to the Gryphons. There are, as you pointed out, always the Gryphons too, and surprisingly possibly the Diamond Dog Lupines.
Whether that actually happens or not, you'll find out...
The smartest things Minos could possibly do now is give Fyrenn all the information about this. That way, he's more likely to get a swift beheading instead of the long, torturous death that Councillor got.
"From that day on, not even Discord himself would deign to lay a claw on one of the young under our protection, for fear of our mothers."
What's the story behind this?
Also, when will we get more PER?
I bet the centaurs who took care of Umbridge wish they had that kind of imagination.
8846900
'A World of Imagination' can be just as frightening as not...