No time to look for the good inside these guys, whoever they are! BRICK MODE!

As the griffon swings his fist against Three’s head, the drone acts on instinct.

“OW! DAMN IT!” yelps the griffon in surprise as his talons twist and crack when he hits something akin to a solid wall with full force.

“Oops, sorry! I think I have a bandaid somewhere in my backpack,” Three reaches for the bag lying next to him.

Offering help will surely make them want to talk instead of fighting.

“JUST SHOOT THE DAMN THING!” orders the griffon leader, clutching his foreleg, “They clearly know about us already!”

A bullet whizzes by Three’s head as he’s leaning down to the backpack to retrieve the bandaids.

Nevermind. Time to go!

Three jumps over the nearest cargo crate and calls out:

“Hey, that’s mean! I can help treat your foreleg but you can’t just go shooting changelings for no reason. I heard you griffons don’t like us but that’s a bit much. Do you want to talk about it? I can tell you about our boss and savior and he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

One of the griffons lands on the crate, already aiming his pistol downwards at Three’s forehead.

“Last chance then. Where’s the Redtalon?”

The second unharmed griffon rolls past the crate, landing in a crouching lunge with a pistol held in both forelegs and aimed at Three as well.

“Who? I only know mister Magpie, no red talon. Though his forelegs are kinda dark red,” Three raises his own forelegs above his head in a peaceful gesture.

The third griffon limps closer from the other side, leaving Three only one escape path - directly backwards.

“Alright, grab the bug. We can use it to lure the target and then sell it to a circus or kill it,” he says.

“Umm, I can’t do tricks and I’ve been dead once already and it’s boring,” Three kicks himself away from the big crate as one of the healthy griffons reaches to grab him.

“Kill it for real then,” the one on top of the crate raises a shotgun and fires.

“EEEK!” the blast takes out a chunk of a crate Three’s passing by and the force of the buckshot hitting the frantically fleeing drone’s armored butt propels him forward.

NO HUGGING THESE GUYS EVER!

Unless they apologize and mean it, of course...

The sting of Three’s pain and panic echoes through Thirteen’s mind just as both she and Harriet hear the loud gunshot from underneath.

“What was that?” Harriet jumps on all fours, instantly cutting their relaxed chatter.

“Three, something’s wrong with Three! I can sense it,” Thirteen looks around in panic.

“Stay here!” Harriet rushes towards the halfway point of the train car.

“The hatch is over there!” Thirteen points the other way.

“I’m not shoving my head somewhere where I just heard a shotgun!” replies Harriet, “Besides, I can barely fit my ass through it anyway! JUST STAY UP HERE!”

Without waiting, she grabs the top of the ladder welded into the side of the train next to the cargo door and swings down from the side. Thirteen hears the heavy door slide sideways just as the roof hatch opens and a griffon’s head wearing a helmet casting a cone of light peeks out.

“...” the griffon says something quietly while holding a talon against an ear-piece and pulls himself up afterwards. Thirteen shuffles backwards, doing her best to just stay upright.

Bad guys, must be bad guys! Magpie has been expecting something since Griffonstone. Okay okay, calm down and breathe!

“EEP!” she almost loses her footing as the griffon effortlessly charges towards her.

Gotta buy time for Harriet! What did mom always say? If you’re too dumb to think your way out of a situation, just don’t think at all and trust your instincts!

Thirteen turns around and runs, picking the most horizontal surfaces of the roof to lay her hooves on, guided only by the faint light cast by the griffon’s head lamp. Within a few moments, she reaches the edge of the car, hearing the griffon’s heavy boots thudding right behind her.

Don’t think, don’t look around, it won’t do you any good. Just jump!

She doesn’t have the energy to shapeshift her forelegs into anything with grabbing utility so she just leaps across the gap. Changeling wings aren’t great during high wind like now either so she doesn’t even bother using them. By some miracle, she lands okay and manages to turn around just as the griffon lands on the edge as well.

Okay, now just back off and keep him occupied until Harriet or Magpie come to help. Stay calm-

In the next instant, a fresh echo of pain, shock, and horror makes her vision swim and turn red. She throws up a little inside her mouth and unsteadily backs away.

Three! What happened to Three?!

The griffon uses her moment of weakness to draw his shotgun, aim at Thirteen’s face, and fire at point blank range.

Three crashes into a crate as the spike of pain shoots through his head. For a moment, he just lies there, twitching as green blood streams down the side of his face.

“No hugs… for you...” he mumbles, dizzily pointing at the approaching griffon aiming an assault rifle at him. Afterwards, he reaches up to his ear, finding only a shredded mess of chitin and flesh. All he manages next is to look at his hoof covered in blood while the griffon aims straight at his forehead and pulls the trigger.

The shot goes wide and so does the griffon, his midsection crushed by a cargo crate slamming into him at meteoric speed from the side and then against the wall of the train alongside with him.

“You okay, Three?” Harriet shields him with her body from the third griffon firing his shotgun.

“I- I think- I think so...” he keeps watching his bloodied foreleg in a daze.

Harriet gives him a quick once-over and pats the healthy side of his head.

“It’s just a scratch and you know what they say - chicks dig scars,” she turns around and bares her teeth at the approaching griffon, “So I guess you are going to be a hit!”

She pounces at him with speed he simply couldn’t expect from anyone of her size. Not that many griffons have experience with angry Corrupted. The sheer force of her simply crashing into him knocks him out like out a light despite his padded combat suit.

Harriet looks around for any other hostiles and, finding none, quickly checks the unconscious griffon for any visible wounds. It’s quite possible he’ll die of some internal bleeding, but that’s far beyond her ability to assess. She drags him over to Three, stacks several crates around the griffon to stop him from moving in case he wakes up, and says while staring into Three’s face:

“I’ll go get Thirteen. Stay here, okay?”

Three only smiles, staring blankly ahead, and Harriet heads for the still open cargo door.

Thirteen watches from the rear platform of a train car as the griffon screaming in agony gets slowly ground up by the wheels between the two cars while desperately holding onto the coupling until his body gives out and the wheels drag the rest of him underneath and his head lamp goes dark.

“And stay crunched!” she points at the now empty space, breathing heavily and trembling.

What happened? I- I think he slipped… or something? Or did I push him from the roof? How did we even get down here? He shot me and… I felt Three… and...

She carefully touches her muzzle, feeling only the faintest scratches left behind by the buckshot. She has been shot by Five before during training. With her negligible level of love, the type of the griffon’s weapon, and the proximity, her head should be missing or at least unrecognizable from ground meat.

“Wait, Three!” she shakes her head suddenly, returning to reality. Stepping across the gap to the front platform of their car, she opens the unlocked door and enters. Harriet is nowhere to be seen so she carefully sneaks between the cargo crates, following Three’s hive link. He feels calm but in shock, so the action must be over.

When she finds him covered in blood from head to shoulder and resting against a crate, her eyes go wide.

“Three! What happened?”

“You’re okay...” Three breathes out and gives her a weak hug.

“You’re not!” Thirteen touches his bloodied side, making him wince and pull away.

“Miss Harriet… went to look for you...” he points at the roof.

“I’m not leaving you here alone!”

“I’m okay… it’s just… a scratch...”

“Your ear is missing! And you have your old beard now with nothing to hang it on!”

“It’ll be okay...” Three smiles, “We get some love and I’ll be good as new...”

“I’d give you all I have but it’s even less than you,” Thirteen’s eyes start watering.

Three nuzzles her neck.

“Then I’ll just stay looking cool... for a while.”

“Where is Magpie anyway?!” Thirteen growls, “He was supposed to be here and protect you!”

“I.. dunno...” Three breathes out, “But I think… the griffons… were after him.”

“He bailed! He knew about them and he bailed!” Thirteen’s face twists in the mix of fury and disbelief.

Harriet swings inside through the cargo door and closes it behind her.

“Oh, you’re already here. I was worried when I didn’t see you. Are you okay?” she asks Thirteen.

“Yeah, I’m just tired. The griffon who went after me fell from the roof under the wheels. I must have pushed him or he tripped, I’m not sure. It’s all blurry. Three’s in trouble, though.”

“Nah,” Harriet shakes her head, “It looks way worse than it is. He just needs a bit of cleaning up and some disinfectant, that’s all. Where’s Magpie?”

“Three said the griffons were after him! He ran off and left us here!”

“Nu-uh...” Three shakes his head weakly, “He’s grumpy but a goodie… he wouldn’t… do that...”

“Why do you think they were after him?” asks Harriet.

“The asked for… red talons… and he has… those...” Three tries to tap the side of his head and misses, “Whoa… dizzy...”

“Yessss!” Harriet grins to herself, “I knew it! The second I saw him I knew it!”

“What?” Thirteen gives her a look of pure confusion.

“Later when we’re safe. I’ll tell you what I know even if he won’t.”

At that moment, Thirteen’s ear twitches as she hears Magpie’s muffled voice:

“The Redtalon is in the freight car six in the back along with two changelings and a big earth pony.”

“Where’s that coming from?” she asks, looks at the unconscious griffon, snatches the ear piece from his ear, and gives it to Harriet, “He just told everyone listening where we are and where he definitely is not! He’s just using us to solve his problems while he’s running away!”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Harriet cracks her neck as her back tentacles stretch out menacingly, “He’s sending everyone into an enclosed area with a Corrupted inside it. Grab the surviving griffon and Three, Thirteen. Keep an eye on them both and call out if anyone gets near you. I’ll deal with the rest.”

With a stomach-turning snap, Magpie breaks the wing of another griffon wearing the lightly armored camo suit and hisses:

“You, talk!” he glances backwards to many other griffons, clearly civilians who paid The Guild for a transport around the Empire, who are whimpering in terror, “You, shut up!”

The suited griffon scowls at Magpie, silent but staring straight into his eyes.

“Alright then,” Magpie snatches the griffon’s ear-piece, punches him, slides the cargo door open while he’s recovering, and starts lowering him down by his healthy wing, “Last chance before you kiss the wheels.”

“I’LL TALK!” screams the griffon as he finally realizes that Magpie isn’t one for empty threats.

“Well?” Magpie stops lowering him down but remains bent over the edge of the train.

“There’s five of us! Three went ahead and two of us here. Me and the guy you knocked out! Please don’t let m-”

From the corner of his eye, Magpie spots a rapid movement and instantly jumps forward into the air. The griffon screams as he gets dragged under the train in a splash of gore.

Another suited griffon whom Magpie completely missed before has swung a heavy blackjack and peeks out of the door as Magpie spreads his wings…

...and completely misjudges the situation.

The overpowering torrent of wind outside the running train makes him tumble as burning and cracking shoots from his wings to his barrel. He curses, barely managing to grab the doorside ladder two cars back and slamming against the metal side of the car. Coughing and flailing his hind legs, he pulls himself to the ladder and up on the roof.

Oof, that was close. So, I saw three get into our car and three here. Hmph, at least six of them, minus two now, and they want me alive. How do I deal with the rest? The one that surprised me will be jumping between the cars soon. Hmmm...

Fuck, my back hurts and I won’t be flying anytime soon.

Alright, no other way about it. Let’s see if Harriet took care of her guys.

Covering his beak with his talons, he presses the side of the stolen ear-piece and says:

“The Redtalon is in the freight car six in the back along with two changelings and a big earth pony,”

Few moments of careful listening later, he smirks to himself. One, there’s no confusion from the receiver which makes it likely that none of the griffons who attacked their car are conscious and able to disprove his fake report. Two, it gets confirmed when the personal door in the back of this car opens and the griffon who swung at Magpie before quickly jumps into the next one.

As the roof hatch clicks open, Harriet’s tentacles shoot out. In the next instant, a small tube drops through and starts letting out thick, grey smoke, not that it’s overly necessary in the darkness. It only takes the scraping noise of someone pushing through for Harriet to pounce straight at the source. After all, if she blindly hits a crate or something, it’s not exactly her who’s in trouble.

She’s familiar with touching the padded combat suit by now so she knows it can’t be Magpie on accident unless he stole one, even though him throwing a smoke canister inside was a definite clue already. A quick punch in the face shatters the mask and quite likely the beak underneath and the griffon stops moving. Hopefully he’s still alive but right now she can’t afford to be picky.

More heavy steps behind her make her turn around. The smoke is quickly dissipating through the open cargo door, revealing a griffon raising his shotgun against Thirteen who is blocking his way to Three with her body.

I won’t make it in time.

Something happens.

Harriet blinks. Her Corrupted reflexes are WAY beyond those of ponies and griffons and she still has no idea what happened.

The barrel of the shotgun is protruding from the back of the griffon’s neck, rammed through his beak with such force that the blunt weapon nearly ripped his entire head off.

Thirteen’s eyes roll backwards as she keels over, her head hitting the floor in tune with several gunshots from the train car ahead. Harriet braces for more griffons arriving but the only one who enters the car is Magpie, holding a pistol and looking around. Other than the thudding of the train and the wind from the open freight door and roof hatch, everything is silent.

“Hey there, Magpie Redtalon,” Harriet smirks.

“Scream that for the whole Empire to hear, would you?” growls Magpie, “How many of them got here?”

“Three at first, two more right now,” Harriet’s tentacles point in the vague directions of both unconscious griffons and corpses.

“Good, I got the other five,” he starts examining the train car in detail, body after body, “I don’t think there are more. Now help me loot the bastards here and we’ll grab the rest of the stuff from the others on the way.”

“That’s completely immoral!” scowls Harriet.

“One, we could really use the ear-pieces. Two, they have lasting food, a lot of it. Do you have something stashed in those tentacle holes of yours? I doubt so, and we still have over a week of travel ahead, or maybe even more if those Guild bastards lied and this thing doesn’t go all the way to Wilbur’s Pass. Unlike the changelings, we can’t just hibernate our way out of hunger. Three, they have gold. Not my biggest concern right now but you can’t go wrong with gold. Four, I’m not big on firearms but as long as they use them, I’m not about to rush at them with a mace unless I have to. Five, you already killed them so the hard part is over.”

“Fiiiine,” Harriet still winces as she touches the gruesome corpse of a griffon impaled on his shotgun, “And for your information, I’m pretty sure Thirteen killed two of them.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Magpie snickers before freezing, “Wait, you’re for real? How? I could believe more that Three got them by hugging too hard.”

“Honestly… I don’t know,” he hears Harriet from behind crates around as she closes the freight door, “If I’m to hazard a guess, I don’t think she knows either.”

“Great...” grumbles Magpie, “Unknown variables. I liked her more when she was completely useless.”

“You don’t like either of them!”

“Yes and that should be a freaking clue!”

“Ugh...” they hear a weak moan as Thirteen sits back up and clutches her stomach, “I’m so hungry...”

“Do you eat griffon?” Magpie aims the stolen pistol at the first griffon Harriet disabled, “If not, I’m not letting these bastards go home and come back with reinforcements or worse.”

“You can’t... kill them...” croaks Three weakly, “That would… make you… a baddie...”

“Watch me.”

“Miss… Harriet...” Three tries persuading a less violent authority.

“Honestly, I don’t like it, Three, but I really don’t want them following me home and threatening my friends or family. Last time a group of anonymous militant guys arrived, they killed my mom. And if they have time to spread the word that Magpie is a Redtalon then things will get worse for all of us, much worse.”

“Don’t...” Three gives it another shot as Magpie raises his pistol again.

“WAIT!” Thirteen tries to raise herself up on shaky legs but collapses back into a sitting position, “We do eat griffon!”

“What?” Magpie blinks.

“We do eat griffon,” repeats Thirteen, “Love, remember? We can cocoon them for the trip. How many are still alive?”

“Three of them,” says Harriet quickly, seeing a way out of Magpie executing unconscious griffons, “One for sure and two possibly. I don’t know how hard I hit them really.”

“Alright, get to it,” orders Magpie, “I’m shooting anything that’s alive and not us if it’s not green in half an hour.”

“Longer, please...” Three gives him the ‘bearded puppy with a recently shot off ear’ look, “We’re too… weak.”

“An hour!” Magpie stops off to the next carriage where he left the rest, grumbling, “Always something with them, I swear!”

Three grins.

“I knew… he was… a goodie.”

“Three, I hate to break it to you,” Thirteen lowers her head, “I don’t know how to make a cocoon and you don’t look like you can move.”

“I know how,” Three tries to boop her and manages to raise his foreleg a few inches before lowering it again, “But I’ve never done it before. Never needed… to.”

When Magpie returns with several bulging backpacks, Thirteen is slowly but definitely not surely gooping all over one of the three griffons. He gags.

“Fucking nope!” he tosses one of the bags on the floor and leaves with:

“I’ll be on the roof, call me when she’s done.”

Harriet joins him up there soon.

“Do you need help?” she asks as the griffon twists himself into knots to treat his fractured and twisted wings as well as all the bruises slowly appearing all over him.

“Nope,” he shakes his head.

“You know Gem taught me how to treat wounds pretty well, right? I’m pretty sure I’m better than you.”

“Yep, but I won’t get better if I let you do it and I won’t have you with me all the time.”

“You don’t have to know how to do everything on your own.”

“Wrong, Harriet. That’s exactly where you’re wrong. You don’t have to. You will return home and you will enjoy as much well-deserved rest as you can and then you’ll be able to return to your peaceful life with your friends and hopefully your father. I have no one, only enemies. Technically on three continents these days which must be some kind of record. What I don’t know will get me killed. Not that I exactly care but I’d prefer it be quick rather than slow rot from a badly healed and infected wound.”

“And what about Gem?”

“What about her?”

Harriet sighs.

“Nothing...”

Dear Nicolai,

With your brother so unfortunately wounded during the initial rebellion in the south, you might want to avoid further danger to the already crumbling stability of the Empire.

A Redtalon is returning home accompanied by two changelings and a Corrupted. Considering the state of affairs in the east after Veronica’s betrayal, Bloodstone griffons will easily rally behind him given the right reason.

You wouldn’t want us to help them find one, right?