//------------------------------//
// Part 21 - A Nest Divided 
// Story: Griffon the Heave-ho 
// by CrowMagnon 
//------------------------------//


Griffon the Heave-ho
by CrowMagnon


"Really, Gustav, I should think that you of all griffons would recognize strategy at work. You never box in an enemy force completely, because then they will simply fight all the harder to hurt you as much as they can before they fall. Provide them with a window of opportunity. A sliver of hope. That way, you can herd your adversaries exactly where you want them to go." Grigori leaned back in his seat and let out a jovial laugh. "And if you do it right, they'll think it was their own idea."

"Sometimes I wonder exactly who it is you consider the enemy, Your Eminence," General Airstrike grumbled.

Gilda kept looking out the window on the ride back to Canterlot. The conversation between her Uncle Greg and General Airstrike was pretty well tuned out. She was too focused on thinking about what had happened back in Podunkville, and anyway, she'd been around those two enough to know how it went.

Gustav would accuse Uncle Greg of trying to sabotage the negotiations without actually putting it in those words. Greg would start by pretending he didn't know what the general was talking about, and then he'd spell out, word for word, exactly what he'd been doing while denying he'd done any of it. Then Gustav would catch something solid to prove his point, only for Greg to turn it around and explain how it actually worked to the Empire's benefit.

It was the same old song and dance she'd heard a thousand times before. What consumed her thoughts instead was the feeling of Rainbow Dash's kicks and punches. Her talons gingerly rubbed over some of the bruises, and she found herself getting choked up as she recalled the strength and conviction behind the blows her old friend had dealt her.

"Buckbeak!"

Gilda jumped a bit in her seat as the general snapped out her last name like the crack of a whip. Granted, it was her Uncle Greg's name, too, but even Airstrike wouldn't use that sort of tone with the Emperor. Sure enough, when she turned her attention toward her superior, he was staring straight at her. "Yes, sir?"

"What were you actually doing down there? According to your superior, you skipped out in the middle of your punishment."

Despite speaking to her commander, this accusation drew a loud, indignant squawk out of Gilda. "What?! I did every single lap that lying sack of rat-turds gave me! With discharged armor, and I've got the wing strain to prove it!"

Airstrike narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "If that's so, then why did you leave the city without reporting your injury to the medic?"

Gilda hesitated for a moment before defensively replying, "It's no big deal... figured I could just walk it off."

"I think we both know that Gilda isn't typically one for introspection and foresight," Grigori joked, though his glasses flashed as he focused his attention on Airstrike. "Is this going somewhere, General?"

Gilda blinked in confusion and started to feel a little nervous. This wasn't how the banter between the two older griffons usually went. "Yeah... I didn't think it'd be a problem."

Airstrike's scowl deepend as he kept his stare locked on Gilda. "A griffoness who constantly goes on about how she's going to be captain of the Stormriders, the most elite flying team in the Empire, and she chooses not to seek medical attention when she hurts her wings? One could possibly chalk that up to youthful stupidity if she didn't have such a frosty history."

Grigori instantly dropped all pretense of joviality as he snapped, "That is over the line, Gustav! Gilda's connection to Winter is irrelevant here."

"And you know that I would have agreed with that if the circumstances were anything other than finding you meeting with the mad queen herself!"

"Woah, hey, I didn't even know she was gonna be there," Gilda hastily replied. "And I didn't give a flying fart when she showed up, either! What, you think because I've got this... thing that happens sometimes, that I went off to tell some giant, million year old bimbo a bunch of government secrets I don't even have? Buck that!"

Gilda's talons curled into a fist that slammed against the side of the carriage in frustration. Unimpressed, Airstrike retorted, "Interesting choice of curses there. But you don't need to have given them secrets, just an impression that works against our goals. It's bad enough that the senate forced us to drag Snaketail along for these talks, but she's an obvious crank."

Turning his attention back to Grigori, Airstrike "So long as we can convince the Snowhearts that joining the Empire according to our terms is still the best option, then the Empire will be better off for it. We can work toward a future where Winterborn griffons are seen as valuable members of the Empire who strengthen us. Then we can finally share the truth with everygriffon, but not if they're all afraid that the Snowheart demi-goddess and her followers are in a position to tear down everything we've built over the last twelve-hundred years!"

Grigori met the general's stern, steady gaze, and without blinking from it, reached up to remove his glasses and look Airstrike in the eye without the glass lenses between them. "Gustav, I can assure you..."

Before he could finish his sentence, however, there was a jostling thump as the carriage came to rest on the castle's landing zone once again. "Ah, well it looks like we're back. All I ask is that you continue to treat Gilda well, Gustav. You and I still share the same ultimate goal, and she's done nothing to jeopardize that."

General Airstrike grunted, and as the door opened to allow the Emperor to step out, he muttered under his breath, "You timed that, didn't you...?" With a shake of his head, he said to Gilda, "Might as well get the medic looking at you, but you will be telling me what you and His Eminence were doing!"

With that, Gustav exited the carriage and left Gilda feeling even more lost than she usually did after sitting through one of her commander and her "uncle's" political arguments. But at least it didn't seem like she, personally, was going to get chewed out any more over it, so she decided to just call it a wash and pull herself out of the carriage after him.

Just in time to see one of the thundersteel-clad soldiers leaning in to whisper something to the general. Something that caused Airstrike's entire body to tense up before shouting, "The senator did WHAT!?"