Did Gilda really drop by in Griffon The Brush-Off to meet up with an old friend? Or was there something more sinister involved, something revolving around what she does back home in the Griffon Kingdoms? In fact, what does she do back in the Griffon Kingdoms? Kick clouds like her (ex)friend Rainbow Dash? Or something far more gruesome and shady?
There's only one way to find out...
Rated M for Strong Language, Disturbing Imagery, Violence, Blood, and a scene of Rape
My first FanFic so constructive criticism is desired.
EDIT: Warning, this FiC isn't very well written and will be revised once my schedule clears up. EDIT: I have revised all chapters and they should be (more) decent than they were before, enjoy. EDIT: Changed name to Red Paw from SpecOps, since it revolves more around that branch than the other. Also edited Description.
“It is wise to direct your anger towards problems, not people; to focus your energies on answers, not excuses.” ~William Arthur Ward ________________________________________________________________________________
“When you decide to not be lame anymore, give me a call,” Gilda said, finishing her report. She stood still as stone, waiting for the response.
The griffon in front of her, flanked by two stone-still guards and sitting in a lavished throne fit for a king, rubbed the bridge of his beak with two thick golden fingers, his eyes screwed shut. “Gilda,” he began, “You have failed your mission.”
“Sir, there was a problem. The pink one-”
“Shut the fuck up,” the griffon said in his cool and collectively calm voice, “You know there are no excuses. Now, what was your mission?”
“Gain the favor of Rainbow Dash. From there, split them apart to nullify the Elements of Harmony, sir,” Gilda replied.
“What did you accomplish?” The griffon asked, still rubbing the bridge of his beak with his eyes screwed shut.
“Failure, sir.”
“Why?”
“There are no excuses, sir,” Gilda said through a gritted beak.
“What was that?” the griffon paused, becoming as still as the portrait behind him.
“There are no excuses, sir,” Gilda repeated without the anger.
There was silence for a few moments, the griffon stopped his rubbing and sat back in his throne with a sigh. His blood red eyes held no emotion in them, reminiscent to his voice. Aside from the incessant tick-tock of a clock, no sound was beheld in the massive room.
The griffon let out another massive sigh, his eyes never stopping as they slowly moved around the room like two blood red searchlights. “If you were anygriffon else you would be dead Gilda. Only your usefulness in other areas stays my paw from having your life ended in a most unpleasant way. In my infinite mercy to those of import, you are hereby demoted to Special Operations. That is all.”
Gilda saluted, bringing her right paw to her left shoulder and bowing her head. She then straightened up, turned, and left the room. Only after pushing through the two massive golden double doors and letting them slam shut behind her did another soul speak. “So, how’d it go?”
Gilda looked up and locked eyes with a male griffon who stood in front of her with a stupid smile on his face. The two stone faced guards flanking the doors did nothing when Gilda threw a massive punch into the Griffon’s idiot grin, sending him reeling back a few yards. She pounced on him and grabbed him by the throat. “How did it go? HOW DID IT GO!” She roared in his face as his eyes came back into focus.
“Gilda,” the griffon wheezed, his paws on the one strangling him and his legs writhing on the floor, “You’re choking me.” Gilda placed her face in his and let out a growl before letting loose and stepping past him. He coughed and gasped for air, rubbing his neck before getting back on all fours.
“We’re back in Special Operations,” she grumbled as the other griffon caught up.
“Oh,” He paused in step, then caught up with Gilda, their claws clacking on the tiled floors, “Well that isn’t too bad, we’ll be back with the Red Paw in no time. You remember SpecOps,” he was now aside her and nudged her with a wing, “Shit wasn’t bad at all!” at a glare from Gilda, he added, “Though not half as good as with the Red Paw.”
She returned her gaze forwards as the two stalked to the end of the long ludicrously lavished room.
“Sooooo...” The griffon trailed off, placing a wing over her back and pulling himself slightly closer to her.
Gilda brushed his wing off her back, “Go fuck yourself, Clive.”
“Why, that’s a great idea!” Clive exclaimed, “But you know what would make it better? If YOU helped me!”
“Go get a prostitute to help you fuck yourself, pencil dick.” The two halted as the massive doors in front of them swung open, two more stone faced guards flanked either side of the door.
“What type of pencil we talking about here?” Clive smiled and reached his arm around Gilda’s shoulder, receiving a punch to the face. He rubbed his beak and followed after Gilda again, “Like a number nine thousand pencil?”
“No shithead, a pencil that I snapped the fuck in half and was previously used into a stub.”
The two strode on in silence, a few more moments passed and they went through a final set of doors. The duet stepped outside, the smell of night was in the air, a chorus of crickets adding their simple music to the otherwise silent fray. Down a long set of massive steps, the two griffons went.
“You wanna hit a bar?” Clive asked suddenly.
“No shit,” Gilda replied, her annoyed demeanor starting to lessen. She cracked a smile and turned on Clive, grabbing him and planting him with a beak on beak kiss. After the initial shock wore off, Clive kissed back, the two letting their tongues mingle in their partner's mouth. But Gilda pulled away and as suddenly as it was there, it was gone, "That's for cheering me up, you shithead," Gilda said, smiling. She turned and headed off towards the inner city, "Let's hit that bar and grab a few drinks."
Clive pumped the air with a fist, “I’m gettin laid tonight!” He declared to the world.
“Not if you announce it to the whole world, numbnuts,” Gilda threw over her shoulder.
“I’m getting laid tonight,” Clive whispered with enthusiasm as he chased after Gilda into the bar.
“Fuckin ponies,” Clive muttered, eyeing a few of the creatures sitting in a darkened stall of the bar. The lot had their heads down to avoid attention. Two others, however were among the crowds. Clive took another gulp from his drink, a crazy, seizure-inducing flash of dull reddish lights playing across his features to the tune of equally crazy music.
“Oh shut-up you asswipe, you got to hide in the clouds while I had to socialize with them back in Ponyville,” Gilda shot back half-heartedly, “You would’ve snapped at the piece of shit Pinkie Pie and blown the untouchable rule.”
“You snapped,” Clive took another sip from his slowly draining mug.
“But I didn’t break the untouchable rule,” Gilda's own glass was mostly untouched.
“Well you’re a whore for the rules, no wonder,” Clive said, he turned to the bar, “Hey bartender!”
“And you’re a whore for me,” Gilda combacked, taking a casual sip from her drink with a smug smile.
“Well you can fuck a griffon and get away with it, but you fuck the rules,” He took a swig from his newly filled drink, “You get fucked right back.” Clive got up from his seat and started meandering away.
“Clive, what are you doing?” Gilda asked over the music.
“Ima go talk to the fuckin ponies,” he said with a slight drunken accent. Gilda sighed, but watched as Clive approached the two ponies in the crowd.
“Hey ponies, what brings you to our wonderful kingdom?” He asked.
The two equines eyed him before one with an orange hide and darker orange mane with a cherry cutie mark replied, “That’d be our own damn business, friend.”
This remark elicited a laugh from Clive, he placed his free paw on the orange pony’s shoulder, getting an ugly look. “I’m not your friend cherry-butt,” Clive swayed slightly, “and I think I asked you a question,” his beak formed the next word after a few seconds, “friend.”
“Hey, this’d be a perfect time to mess off bird brain,” the second pony, a unicorn, who was red with a peach mane said. She had a spade as a cutie mark.
The other griffons in the bar had slowly begun to migrate away from the three creatures. The orange pony shrugged off Clive’s paw and the griffon took another drag on his drink.
Gilda had repositioned and was now leaning on one of the support beams just outside the circle of moving griffons. This gave her a better vantage point than from the bar.
Clive rose back, “Woah, looks like we got ourselves a badass here!” Clive laughed at the unicorn’s comment.
With a flick of magic, the unicorn had a switchblade in front of her. With another touch, she flicked the blade open. “Let me put it this way: fuck off now.”
“Woah there nelly, I think you need to take a chill pill,” Clive approached the unicorn and placed his paw on this one’s shoulder as if they were buddies.
“I said fuck off!” the pony slashed at Clive, but even drunk he was faster.
Clive snatched the knife from the air and brought it around to slice a thin line across the pony’s cheek, causing her to flinch back, putting a hoof to the injury. He swung his mug behind him and blindly caught the orange pony in the face. The knife was shortly thereafter planted into the unicorn’s side.
The orange pony looked about ready to charge when Gilda delivered a kick between his rear legs and he collapsed in pain, clutching at his injured anatomy.
Clive threw a kick to the unicorn’s chin and turned to see Gilda pounce on the first pony and wrap her arm around his neck. She yanked his head up sharply. The wet crunch was more felt than heard in the noisy bar, the pony’s body went limp and still.
The knife had gone through one of the unicorn’s lungs and her gasps for air prevented her from being able to focus on her magic. Clive moved around the unicorn and pulled her onto her hind legs. The pony’s hooves went to Clive’s arm as it wrapped around the her throat, cutting off any breathing. After a few moments of the pony pantomiming breathing, her forelegs fell to her sides and her rear legs relaxed. As this second thing happened, her bladder released as well.
Clive held the pony in a death grip for a short while longer to make sure before letting the body fall limply to the ground.
Nothing moved.
Clive walked over to the bar and flipped the bartender a red and golden coin with a red pawprint of a griffon on both sides. “Sorry bout the mess. You know how to use that?” He pointed to the coin that the bartender was staring at with wide eyes, "Just give it to his majesty and all?"
“Uh yeah, sure. N-no problem,” The bartender replied, sweat breaking out across his features. Clive gave him a pat on the shoulder, causing him to flinch.
“There’s a good griffon,” And with that Clive and Gilda turned to leave.
“Who were those two?” Gilda asked, the music in the bar started up again once the two griffons were a ways away from the bar.
“A side job, those two were undercover drug dealers. That cherry mark was a fake.” They walked in silence for a few moments, “What say we head back to our place?”
Gilda chuckled, she was already feeling like her old self again, “Sure, Clive.”
Past ______________________________________________________________________________
“The past is behind us and it follows in our footsteps wherever we go.” ~Anonymous ______________________________________________________________________________
Gilda loosed another bolt. At one thousand feet per second, it impacted the target with a thwack and a twang. As she reloaded the crossbow-like weapon, her mind wandered back to that fateful day...
Gilda stepped back to admire the poster on the wall. Unlike the wall’s parallel brother, only one large poster covered it. The poster was done in the red and gold of the Griffon Kingdoms colors with black coloring as well. A silhouette of a griffon was imposed on a golden rising or setting sun. The griffon’s profile stood proud and strong with a fist raised to the air, the words ‘Fortitudo, Unitas, Facultates’ displayed in red below him. The only reason that Gilda knew that meant: ‘Strength, Unity, Ability’ was because some smart-ass pony had told her so.
Throwing a look to the opposite wall showed that its cloudy surface was entirely covered in different Wonderbolt memorabilia. The owner of said posters looked at the lone poster on the opposing wall. “Pretty cool, Gilda...” a younger Rainbow Dash squinted, “What does: Fortitudo, Unitas, Facultates mean?” She asked, mispronouncing the words with ease.
“Strength, Unity, and Ability in some old forgotten language. The three prowesses of the Griffon Kingdom.” Gilda gave a salute to the poster, placing her right hand over her left shoulder and bowing her head.
It was later that day, during a break in practice, that a voice had spoken from behind Gilda. “You’re a fine flier.”
Gilda turned, expecting to see some pegasus colt. They were always trying to be friendly to the only Griffon in flight school and they very rarely got what they desired from her. That said, she was surprised to see a Griffon watching the clouds above her, he flicked his gaze to her. “Alger,” he said, holding out a paw to shake.
Gilda took the offered appendage and was met with a steel hard grip which she returned, “Wow, I never expected to see another griffon here in Equestria. I’m Gilda.”
Alger gave a gruff nod, “You’re one of the best fliers here, Gilda. Top in your martial arts class as well.”
Gilda smiled at the praise, “Having digits helps,” she said, wiggling her talons, “So what brings you around these parts?”
“You.”
Gilda raised an eyebrow, “Um...come again?” She asked, not sure if she had heard Alger right.
“More specifically, your loyalty to the Kingdom and your representation of it as a foreign exchange student here. If one pairs your abilities with your loyalty, that creates somegriffon with potential in my department back home.” Alger said, only now did Gilda notice that Alger held a small file in one hand.
“So...you’re offering me a job?” She asked, looking from the file to the face of the griffon in front of her.
Alger nodded, “If you can pass a simple test then there’s a job waiting for you at home. The pay is good and the cause is better,” Alger held forth the closed manilla file and Gilda took it. But Alger didn’t immediately let go, “Know that this is not a job for the kind of heart and that it involves danger and guts.”
“I don’t think you’d be here if I lacked either,” Gilda said with a smile. The smile was returned and Alger let go of the folder. Gilda flipped it open and looked at the front page. It held the mugshot of a filthy looking earth pony with the word: Target written above. Gilda snapped the folder closed quickly and looked around suspiciously. “You want me to kill somepony!? Isn’t that...you know...” she met Alger’s eyes.
“Illegal?” he finished, “Only when you look at it from one point of view. Open the folder and look at the bottom right of the picture. Gilda did so and gasped, her lower beak dropping as she stared in awe at the stamp at the bottom corner of the picture.
Alger closed the file before anypony saw the contents.
“That’s the royal seal!” Gilda gasped, looking up at Alger again, “The king’s very hand used his very own personal seal to approve of this!” Gilda looked at the closed manilla folder as if she could see through it to the stamp and as if that the stamp was made of gold.
“You will find everything that you need in that folder. Finish the job within this week and you will have yourself a job, fail or don’t complete the task and we will move on. Know that we will deny any affiliation to you if you are caught.” Alger said, lifting his wings to leave, “May the winds guide your journey from your back.”
Gilda nodded proudly. To be told that by a griffon like Alger was an honor, “You as well,” she said. ______________________________________________________________________________
Gilda had studied the file for two of her seven given days. Her target was a low end drug dealer known by the codename: ‘Lacrosse.’ It wasn’t until later that Gilda had known that some drugs that originated from Lacrosse ended up killing the daughter of a griffon in some high end business. The griffon wanted Lacrosse dead and the job had been given to her since the pony only had one guard and was almost always high on his own supply. He would be simple...or at least he should have been... ______________________________________________________________________________
On day four, Gilda had found out that Lacrosse would be in a bar in the city of Fillydelphia below. The folder had contained a thin razor wire garrote that was easy to conceal as a thin necklace.
Knowing that it would be awkward for her not to invite her cyan friend, Gilda had invited Rainbow Dash to come along. She knew the pegasus had a very low alcohol tolerance and after a few drinks, Gilda could slip away without being noticed.
“I heard about this place down in the town, you wanna come?” Gilda had asked.
“Hell yeah, a night on the town would be awesome,” Rainbow Dash shot to the door after Gilda, “What’s this place called?” ______________________________________________________________________________
“The Drunken Lamb?” Rainbow Dash read the neon sign before following Gilda in.
It had only taken a few drinks before Rainbow Dash was an incoherent idiot. Gilda had spotted Lacrosse and his lone guard when they had entered, sitting alone at a corner table. Lacrosse had bloodshot eyes, yet more proof that he took his own supply as often as he sold it.
Dash didn’t even notice when Gilda left her seat as Lacrosse headed over to the restroom with his guard in tow. Gilda began to get nervous, the her heart seemed to drown out the music as she made her way slowly to the restroom.
Fortunately for her the restroom was unisex, as ponies weren’t exactly the most modest of creatures, and had multiple stalls. She wouldn’t draw any undue attention by heading in.
The floor was tiled, and it led around a corner before heading into the main room of the restroom. Lacrosse’s guard leaned against the wall, facing the door. When Gilda entered, she froze as the dark coated pony eyed her with an indiscernible look. She gave him a nervous smile, hoping he couldn't hear her nervous heart doing double time in her chest.
The pony looked away when she passed him and she threw a kick into his jaw as hard as her muscles could do so. With a grunt of pain he collapsed on the ground. Gilda’s head snapped around to the main area of the restroom. Lacrosse must have been in one of the stalls, as he was nowhere to be seen. Before she could move, however something bit into her rear leg and she let out a short yelp of pain.
Gilda turned to see the guard pony getting to his hooves, a bloody knife held in one of them.
“Shit,” Gilda cursed, throwing a punch to his face. Despite her speed, she was tangoing with a professional. The pony caught her paw with his free forehoof and twisted, she rolled with the twist so he couldn’t injure her arm. Using her wings as leverage, she rolled right in the air as the knife cut into the area where she had been.
She escaped the knife, but she hit the tile floor hard. She wasn’t used to anything besides a soft mat and the tile was nothing like what she was used to hitting. She saw stars as the pony put away his knife, never saying a word, and began to press his hooves on her throat.
She grabbed the two heavy pillars of muscle and tried to break free, but couldn’t. Thinking fast, Gilda grabbed the razor wire garrote and sliced it across the backs of the pony’s hooves. Blood began to pour from the wound and the pony’s grip lightened enough for Gilda to push away. The pony yelled out in pain and anger and stared at her with a death glare.
She hissed at him and vaguely heard somepony say something from one of the stalls. Her adrenaline infused body ignored the stall, focusing everything on the pony in front of her. He placed a hoof forwards, but then winced in pain and fell forwards.
Seeing her opening, Gilda shot forwards and grabbed the knife from the pony’s sheath. She grabbed his head by the chin and rammed the knife into his neck. Blood quickly flowed out from the wound and after a quick gurgle, the pony stopped moving.
Gilda let out a massive sigh of relief and collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion. She had just killed a pony...but he had threatened her life. She acted in self defense.
Her thoughts were cut off as a light grey head with bloodshot eyes peeked from behind a stall door. Remembering her mission, Gilda got back on all fours. She had one more pony to kill. ______________________________________________________________________________
The crowd was too focused on the live band, Manetallica, performing on stage to notice the beat up and bloodstained griffon exit the bathroom and collapse onto the floor. All of them besides Rainbow Dash.
“Hey Gilda,” the cyan pegasus said, putting her face in Gilda’s when she approached. The griffon could smell the alcohol on her friend's breath, “Ya don look too good, wha happened?” she let out a small hiccup. Gilda simply passed out, from blood loss or shock, she didn’t know.
She woke up in a hospital. Dash had realized something was wrong a few minutes after Gilda passed out and had dragged her to the nearest hospital. She was too fatigued and still too drunk to form coherent words at the reception desk but the doctor had seen Gilda’s wounds and taken her to get fixed up.
Everypony had been filled with questions and Gilda had explained that when she went into the restroom, there was another pony there. That he had killed the guard and Lacrosse. He had beat her up before escaping and she had crawled out to get help. The guardsponies who had come to ask her for investigative purposes had believed her story and had never found the culprit.
Dash, the loyal friend that she was, had stayed with Gilda until she could recover fully. Alger had shown up one of the times that Dash was passed out on a couch. “You did good,” he had said, “Welcome to the family.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Gilda had dropped out shortly thereafter. During training for Special Operations, she had met Clive and they were selected to be a ‘pair.’ Two griffons that stayed together throughout their missions. One didn't always have to be a direct part of the mission, as had been the case with the Ponyville one...
As thoughts of Ponyville came to mind, Gilda realized that she was aiming her crossbow-like weapon, known as an Arcumsire, at the target and was ready to fire. On the target she saw the idiotic face of the pink earth pony that had ruined everything. Gilda growled and loosed the bolt, it struck its mark right in the target’s head.
“You safe to approach now?” Clive said from behind and to the right of her. Too many times Clive had bothered her when she was deep in thought. Startling her from a trance-like zoned out state was similar to poking a venomous and highly agitated snake.
“Yeah, what’s up?” She began reloading the Arcumsire again, not looking away from her task.
“Just checkin up on you,” Clive said.
Gilda sighed and placed her weapon on the bench in front of her, “If we’ve got a mission then just tell me.”
Sure enough, a glance back showed that he had a manila folder in his grip. Gilda held out a paw for it and opened the folder when she received it. As she parced through different documents, Clive began to explain the situation.
“We’re working in conjunction with two other pairs to pull this one off,” Clive said, “Target’s some piece of shit trying to bribe his way into the Interius Circuli. The griffon thinks that he’s invisible but his antics got picked up almost immediately. We’re using six since this is one slippery douche and we can’t let him escape. We’re Infil Two, but just be happy we didn’t get SHTF duty. Anyways, what was on your mind? You were standing there for a minute before you came to.”
Gilda snapped the folder closed and looked to Clive, “The past.”
“The deadliest enemy is the one that you cannot see.” ~Anonymous ______________________________________________________________________________
(One week later)
The one major difference between the Red Paw and Special Operations was that in one you worked on threats to the Kingdom whereas Special Operations only worked on smaller domestic issues. Only in the Red Paw did a griffon truly show their loyalty to the Kingdom, only the best of the best were selected to be a part of this elite group.
And more often than not, Special Operations entailed the combined efforts of more than one ‘pair.’
“Infiltration team one will enter the building from the second story, window B-9. Infiltration team two will enter on ground level through window A-12. Infiltration team two will secure the ground floor. Infiltration team one will stealthily move across the second floor to target’s bedroom. They will enter said bedroom and will eliminate the target. If target escapes, Infiltration team two will halt any effort to escape and eliminate the target. If they cannot eliminate the target then Backup team-”
“You mean SHTF duty,” Clive cut in with a goofy smile, getting a glare from both the speaker and the two griffons who made up SHTF duty.
“-Backup team will be charged with accomplishing this task. There are two guards on each floor armed with lights, Arcumsires, and bladed weapons. Infiltration team two’s primary objective is to eliminate both guards on the lower floor, with secondary as target elimination. Infiltration team one’s primary objective is to eliminate the target. Backup team’s primary objective is to eliminate the target if neither Infiltration teams can eliminate the target-”
Gilda remembered the speaker, Fulton, from her days in Special Operations. He was stiff and excruciatingly formal. When a plan fell apart he was rarely able to do anything about it, but he made up for this in sticking to the letter more than one hundred percent. The only reason he ever failed was because the plans failed, which rarely happened.
Gilda knew that the target was slippery, paranoid, and very smart. She wondered why Fulton had been placed on a mission where the plans would likely fall apart and wondered if it was a test to see if she was still useful. As she pondered this, Fulton finished his overly detailed speech, which each of the six griffons already knew.
“Any questions?” Fulton’s eagle-like head surveyed the five others, “No? Okay then, gear check and then we go. You have three minutes.”
Gilda and Clive checked each other’s darksuits. The tight fitting material seemed to attract shadows and helped griffons blend into the night. It also served the purpose of leaving behind no feathers. Griffons dropped feathers accidentally with ease, the suits provided a net that disallowed any from falling, therefore leaving behind no evidence. It restricted no movement, though it did make flying slightly more difficult.
Clive and Gilda confirmed that both of each other’s suits were functional. She then went over her weapons.
A fighting knife with a serrated back, a small dagger for up close and personal work, three aerodynamic throwing knives, a razorwire garrote, and what was called a ‘culernus’. She clicked her two front paws together and a small blade poked up from each of her talons. The knives were very small, but very deadly. She clicked her paws together once more and the blades retracted.
As final check, she slid her mask on. The emotionless evil face with its tinted goggles was enough to scare many victims into paralyzed horror, Gilda loved seeing that final look on an enemy’s face as she approached and gouged out their jugular with one of her knives. The look of sheer terror was so very satisfying.
When the mask went over her face, everything she saw was immediately easier to see in the darkness, it was nearly as bright as day, though not as clear. The lenses of the mask were designed to draw in extra light, making them very black form the outside and allowing the wearer to see in the dark better.
Of the six, only SHTF duty, or ‘Backup team,’ didn’t wear darksuits. They would be waiting outside and needed to fly fast if they wanted to catch an escapee. They did wear darksuit masks, however, allowing them to better see in the dark.
Gilda looked over at Ales, Fulton’s partner, she came from an older higher class family. Ales nodded and Gilda returned the gesture. The darksuit made it hard to talk so gestures were employed for communication instead of words. She turned to Clive who nodded as well. The group was ready to go.
It was time to hunt. ______________________________________________________________________________
After popping window A-12 out of its frame, climbing inside, and replacing the window, Gilda and Clive were in. The window led to a bathroom and the bathroom led to the rest of the house.
“I’ll go that way, you go that way,” Clive said with gestures.
“Affirmative,” Gilda replied with a nod.
The house was large, a small mansion due to the wealth of the soon-to-be-dead owner. The guards were tough bastards and from what intelligence had gathered, they roamed the floors with no discernible pattern. They didn’t have night vision, but they did have flashlights. Both were armed with short barreled Arcumsires and an assortment of knives.
Gilda’s feet were silent as they padded along the carpeted floors. She was walking through what appeared to be a living room when the beam of a flashlight appeared on the floor ahead. Gilda stalked over to a couch and got down behind it, she drew her fighting knife silently from its sheath.
The light panned over the room. Once it had passed her hiding spot, Gilda peeked around the corner. She ducked back in the nick of time as the light panned back over the room. She gave a silent sigh of relief that her reflexes were so quick.
When the light didn’t come again, Gilda dared another peek. The guard was large and well muscled, he had a shortened Arcumsire in one paw and a flashlight peeking from a holder on his shoulder. He had his side turned to Gilda and was making his way down the opposite side of the room.
Gilda dashed silently from her hiding spot and made her way across the room, not moving too fast or too slow. She was behind the griffon when he suddenly turned and Gilda was blinded by light, she immediately sliced out with her knife. Gilda heard the guard take a breath as he was about to call out, but her knife connected and all that escaped was a gurgle.
She lashed out at the light and the lens shattered, everything was plunged into darkness again. She felt something warm running down her arm and soon made it out to be blood. There was a loud thump as the dead griffon hit the ground, Gilda noted with satisfaction that her blade had severed his jugular vein. His head had hit a table when he fell dead and Gilda threw a glance behind her, afraid that the other guard might have heard.
All that came around the corner, however, was Clive, his knife was bloody.
“Objective complete,” Gilda said with a raised paw.
“Affirmative,” Clive responded similarly.
It was then that a scream came from the second floor. Despite wearing matching emotionless masks, Gilda and Clive exchanged glances and rushed up the stairs. Gilda grabbed the dead guard’s Arcumsire before she rushed after Clive. ______________________________________________________________________________
Muffled voices were coming from an upstairs bedroom. Gilda and Clive looked at each other and Clive grabbed the door handle. Gilda positioned herself slightly to the side of the door.
“Three, two, one, go!” Clive gestured, yanking the door open. Gilda rushed into the room, aiming down the sights of her weapon. Three figures were at the foot of the bed, Fulton, Ales, and...a pink pony? Pictures of Pinkie Pie flashed through Gilda’s head before she noticed that this pony had a purple mane and was a pegasus.
Fulton was forcing the pony into the floor, pulling one of her forelegs back. When the pony heard the door burst open, she cried for help but then turned her head to see another two black clad griffons.
“Where the fuck is he!” Fulton growled, his mask was pulled back so he could speak freely.
Ales noticed Gilda’s questioning posture and turned to her and Clive, “We came in and found this pegasus, no sign of the target.”
“The target was a pony fucker?” Clive asked, pulling back his mask as well.
“It would seem so,” Ales said with a sigh, “Sick, sick bastard.”
“Answer the question! Now!” Fulton pulled back on the pony’s foreleg again and she yelped in pain.
“I don’t know!” the pony sobbed.
“Wrong fuckin answer,” Fulton pulled hard and struck the pony’s arm, there was a crack of bone and the pony yelled out in pain again, her face wet from tears, Fulton looked over to Gilda, “You three go check everywhere, see if you can find the target,” He didn’t wait for a response, instead he looked back at the pony, “I can only ask so many times.” He grabbed her by the mane and slammed her face into the ground. ______________________________________________________________________________
(One hour later)
Ales, Gilda, and Clive returned empty-pawed. They had triple checked the building, but found no sign of the target.
The pony now had a broken wing in complement to the arm and her nose was bloody. When the three griffons returned empty-pawed, Fulton cursed and pulled the pony up by her neck so that their eyes met. Hers were glazed over and unfocused with the intense pain and his were raging in anger. Her threw a punch to her gut and then let her hit the floor again, “We’re heading back, I want to get everything out of her that we can.” ______________________________________________________________________________
It took thirty minutes to make Fulton believe the pegasus knew nothing, “Goddamnit! The only explanation that I can think of is that there’s a mole in the system. It isn’t possible that he knew we were coming!” Fulton growled, pacing back and forth in the room outside where the drugged pegasus was being held.
“How do you know that he knew we were coming? He left his pegasus bitch there,” Ales said, leaning on a wall opposite Fulton.
“It’s not possible that he simply up and left on the same day that we struck, we had the place under surveillance twenty-four seven and nogriffon saw him leave! The only explanation is that we have a mole!” Fulton retorted.
“Speaking of said ‘pegasus bitch,’ how’s she gonna go?” Clive asked.
“I don’t care, get a few others and make it look like a mugging gone wrong. Just make sure you get that drug out of her system, we don’t want that showing up on the autopsy,” Fulton replied.
“You’re not coming?” Clive asked.
“No, I’m going to see who was on surveillance duty and when, I will not be made to look like a fool because of some spy! And keep your mouths shut about this mole problem, we don’t want whoever it is getting wind that we’re onto him.”
Ales, Gilda, and Clive nodded.
“Good, you see anything suspicious, contact me right away. I’ll keep you posted.” ______________________________________________________________________________
The spot they chose was a quiet alleyway in a downtown industrial district. In the dead of night, it would be almost dead certain that nogriffon would be about to play witness to the scene of the crime until the culprits were long gone. The two pairs split up, the females looking out at the alleyway entrance while the males dragged the pegasus into the darkened bowels of it.
"A-are you l-letting me-e go?" the pegasus moaned, spitting a glob of blood out. Clive and the other, a slightly younger griffon named Ewing, dropped her at the end of the alleyway.
"Well now that depends on if you believe in the afterlife," Clive replied, the pegasus' eyes bulged wide with fright.
"N-no! Pl-please!" the pegasus said, trying to draw away from the two griffons standing over her but unable to due to her wounds, "My p-parents! They-they're important p-ponies! I can...they can p-pay you if y-you just l-let me-e go-o-o!" She wailed. Ewing circled around behind the pegasus, her gaze flickered between him and Clive fearfully, "Please!"
"So a mugging gone wrong, huh?" Ewing asked, eyes flicking up to Clive, "Two griffons looking for a couple of bits see a bit of something else they like?" he continued, coaxing his sexual member from its sheath with a few light strokes. Using his other claw, he grabbed her tail, yanking it away to reveal her marehood and ass, growing harder at the newfound sight.
"Please," the pegasus whimpered. She gave another whimper as Ewing forced his hardened prick into her tight slit, his penile spines scraping against her inner walls as he forced his way in, giving a low grunt of satisfaction.
"I like it," Clive said with a smirk, bringing his loins to a stiff attention. He grabbed either side of the pegasus' head to hold her still, "Gilda's not really into oral so I call the front door on this one."
The pegasus gave another soft whimper as Ewing pulled himself partway out before thrusting back in with another low grunt. Clive brought himself closer to her face, her fearful eyes locked onto his full grown, pointy prick. She clamped her jaw shut, closing her eyes and whimpering again as Ewing raked her inner walls with his feline cock-spines.
Clive plugged up her nose, which was coated in dried blood. After a few moments she was forced to inhale through her mouth, opening it enough for Clive to force his way in. His cock was immediately coated with the warmth of her mouth and the moistness of her tongue as she unconsciously tasted the offending object in her mouth. But before he could try anything, pain sliced through his groin as the pegasus bit down on him. Clive gave a yelp, smashing a fist into her snout as he pulled himself out, his cock trailing a thin line of bloody saliva.
The pegasus gave a quiet yelp of pain, the wounds in her nose reopening to let even more blood spill out.
"Fucking bitch!" Clive spat, checking himself out to find that he was thankfully still in possession of his lower appendage.
"Did she bite you?" Ewing asked with a chuckle, speeding up the game of in and out. He slid a clawed hand below her moistening pussy, using his claws to play with her two small teats, sliding his sharp claws around the edges and making her squirm a bit.
Clive smashed his fist into the pegasus' face, knocking a few teeth loose and dazing her. He tried again, forcing her to take the entirety of his hardened member in her mouth. She gagged against him as his prick pressed against the back of her throat. Her tongue unconsciously swirled around him, pushing and sliding against him in an effort to push him out. He gripped her head again, guiding her in a back and forth motion as he built himself up into a climax.
Having started sooner, Ewing gave a final thrust into the pegasus' pussy and unloaded with a groan, filling her up with his thick seed. He let himself finish off inside the warm walls of her pussy before slowly pulling out and taking a few steps back to let Clive finish.
He didn't have long to wait, the tonguing combined with the occasional shudders of the pegasus gagging got Clive off rather fast. The pegasus' eyes grew wide as he came down her throat, some of it getting into her lungs and forcing a few heavy coughs out of her as she tried to clear her airway.
"You done?" Ewing asked as Clive pulled free, his cock still dripping bits of seed.
"Done enough," Clive replied, "may I have the honors?"
Ewing nodded, "Sure."
Clive straddled her back and wrapped an arm around her throat. He pulled her back into him, cutting off her air supply and dripping a few excess drops of thick seed into her mane as his member slowly slid back into its sheath. A puddle of warm liquid began to form around her hindquarters as she released her bladder in fear. Clive held fast, waiting until her struggling stopped and her body grew still, dead eyes staring into nothingness. Ewing came around as Clive got off of her and drew a knife across her throat for good measure before the two rejoined their female counterparts at the entrance of the alleyway.
Author's note Sorry about this one being kinda late and short, I've been busy and I'm running out of steam, next chapter's gonna shoot forward some time to get that speed built up some more.
“Everybody’s got plans...until they get hit.” ~Mike Tyson ______________________________________________________________________________
Even though she knew it was coming, the ominous knock on the door startled her. Gilda put down the newspaper and walked to the door. Peering out the eyehole showed a griffon dressed in black-red armor. One of the royal guards.
Gilda opened the door and without further ado, the griffon spoke, “Griffons Gilda and Clive are to see his majesty immediately.” Gilda looked back into the house that had been provided to her and Clive and called his name. When he didn’t respond, she heard the sound of running water from the upstairs bathroom and remembered that he had gone up to take a shower. She had impolitely refused his offer to share the shower, to his disappointment.
“I’ll be right back,” she told the statue-like guard before heading towards the stairs.
She opened the door to the bathroom and knocked. Clive poked his head around the shower curtain, “Offer’s still open if you’ve changed your mind,” he said.
“No, numbnuts, hurry up. Royal guard’s downstairs to take us to his majesty,” Gilda explained.
“Oh,” Clive’s face fell, “Gimme a minute and I’ll be right down.”
Without further ado, Gilda headed back downstairs. ______________________________________________________________________________
Later, the three pairs that had been charged with killing the escaped target, stood before the impassive king of the griffons. Nothing about him betrayed any form of emotion. His eyes wandered slowly around the room with all the appearance of spotlights.
“You have failed,” the king said after a minute or so of silence, “The only reason that you do not die is because in your failure, there is renewed hope.”
This surprised the six griffons.
“The pegasus that you...executed belonged to a very wealthy family in Equestria. My intelligence has discovered that your target was the one behind the murder. After killing his guards, he took her to an alleyway and...did away with her and escaped. Based on this case, you did not fail because your assassination attempt never happened. As a matter of fact, this meeting didn't happen either. That is all.”
Everygriffon turned to go besides Fulton, Ales paused and turned back. Gilda and Clive also noticed this and stopped in their tracks. The last pair didn’t notice and were quickly out of the room.
Once they were gone, Fulton spoke, “We have reason to believe that there is a mole in the system, sir,” Fulton said, “I would like to request permission to take my partner and these two,” Fulton gestured to Gilda and Clive, “and seek out this mole and eliminate it. Sir.”
“Granted,” The king said, again without emotion.
If Fulton was annoyed that the king wasn’t very perturbed by there being a mole, he didn’t show it, instead he bowed and the four left. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Only the four of us know about this mole, us and his majesty of course. We must tell nogriffon else,” Fulton said once the four had taken to the streets, “All of you need to have your eyes peeled for suspicious behavior. Gilda and Clive, I want you to search out this spy based on observation, report your findings as soon as you have them. Ales and I will go through the records and search for clues in the past database. If anygriffon asks, it’s Special Operations work and classified. Is this understood?”
The three other griffons gave signs of acknowledgement as Fulton glanced back at them.
“So we’ve got backup from his majesty, how we gonna use that?” Clive asked.
“We can get full access to all databases for our research. If anything comes up and we need some form of supplies then let me know. Once we find this bastard, we can get help from other pairs to go for the final push to capture the mole, but not until then.”
“Shed no tears until seeing the coffin.” ~Chinese Proverb ______________________________________________________________________________
(One year later)
It had taken some time, but Gilda was finally back in the higher echelons of Special Operations. Another while longer and she’d be back in the Red Paw, working directly for his majesty himself. She relished in the thought, but was struck by another. Whatever line they had discovered of the ever-so-elusive mole always went dry just as it felt they were about to discover the mole’s identity.
Each and every time they were foiled, Fulton was enraged. Gilda had, at first, shared in that anger, but soon realized that she would only be angry time and time again if she kept it up. While she expected every trail to run dry, she still tried her hardest to find the mole.
She and Clive had both mentioned getting more troops into the circle, but each time Fulton rejected it. He knew that he wanted to get more griffons in on it, but the choices were either smart enough to be the mole or too stupid to be of any help.
They had had their fair share of missions and the majority went off without a hitch. Those that did, unsurprisingly, led them to trails of the mole, meaning that the bastard was still active.
Gilda grumbled to herself as these thoughts of the mole assailed her. Throwing a look at the paper brought a smile to her face. A small warehouse had been found burned to the ground, all that remained of those inside were charred remains. The fact that the article didn’t say that the charred remains had all their throats slit or were filled with Arcumsire holes meant that the fire had done its job of removing evidence. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Next mission,” Clive said, slapping the folder onto the table in front of her. Gilda flinched as her thoughts were interrupted and Clive made a face, “Why’re you so zoned out recently? All that bizarre shit that was happening in ponyland?”
It had been a few days since odd pink clouds with dark rain had appeared on the horizon. Stories in well known Equestrian newspapers had told of some ‘Discord’ and his defeat by the ‘Elements of Harmony.’ Gilda knew that the king had his eye on the ‘Elements of Harmony.’ Ever since stories of the pony’s Princess Luna or Nightmare Moon returning, the king had had his eye on these ‘Elements.’ When it had been found out that Rainbow Dash, whom Gilda knew, was one of these ‘Elements,’ she and Clive had been sent to do some investigation, though Clive remained in an overwatch position so as not to draw any undesired attention.
Gilda growled as she thought of the pink pony that had ruined everything with her idiotic antics, almost getting Gilda killed for her failure.
“Chill, Gilda. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Clive said, taking a short step back.
Gilda realized that she had been sitting there with her glazed expression and had let loose a growl, she changed her expression and turned to Clive, “I didn’t growl at you, idiot, I was just thinking about that shit-shot mission to Ponyville and that crazy pink bitch.”
“Oh,” Clive said, taking a seat next to her with an exhale of relief, “That was a year ago you know, it shouldn’t still upset you. Anyways, tell me if you remember the griffon in the mugshot,” he pushed the file closer to her and then hailed a waiter. Gilda held the file at an angle so the waiter couldn’t see. With her back to the booth, no others would be able to see it either.
“That prick from the first mole incident,” she said when the waiter left with Clive’s order, the other griffon nodded.
“Finally have a lock on his position and that old pony family still wants him dead. This time the mission is classified to only two pairs,” Clive said.
“Fulton and Ales, I’d guess?” Gilda said, closing the file.
“Nope,” Clive said, pausing as Gilda’s food arrived. He nabbed a few of her anchovy fries and was granted a glare from her, “Don’t know the other pair, but we’re infil one and they’re SHTF duty. As the file said, he’s got a meeting with some other darker shaded figures in a week, some old warehouse like the one we visited last night. We go in, assassinate this fuck, and get out. Easier done than said.”
Gilda nodded and enjoyed her meal. ______________________________________________________________________________
Gilda found flying in the darksuit to be quite annoying. However it was either fly in or climb to the top of the building and the former choice was superior.
She and Clive had been watching the building for the past two days, sleeping in shifts and recording all movement. When they were certain that their target was inside, they headed in.
Gilda popped open a window at the top of the building and Clive replaced it once they were inside. Large crates dominated the room and lights gave the room plenty of bright areas, plenty of dark ones as well.
The acoustics allowed them to listen in on the conversation, but it was unimportant and neither bothered listening.
The two nigh-invisible griffons soon came upon two unwary guards. Both were glaring at a door in front of them and not the shadows of their sides. Had they, they may or may not have seen the single darsuited griffon fly a short distance to a series of crates and make his way to the opposite side.
Clive retrieved his razorwire garrote and nodded to Gilda.
“On the count of three,” Gilda gestured, standing right next to her target with the silence of a ghost, “One...two...three,” Gilda grabbed her target, wrapping her paw around his beak and then twisting his head and hearing the wet snap of neck vertebrae breaking.
Clive had given his own target a poorly done surprise tracheotomy and lowered the body gently to the ground so as not to make noise. The two then were on their way once more.
The voices grew louder as the two approached their target. Clive retrieved the short barreled Arcumsire from its holster at his side, checking to see that it was locked and loaded. The head of the bolt was covered in a fast acting poison. A shot even that grazed a target would be lethal.
The duo came to an opening between two boxes and Clive used this as a window to shoot through. As he identified the target, however, the shit hit the fan.
“Two’a the guards’re dead!” A griffon from down the hallway cried out.
It was at that moment that two things happened, Clive pulled the trigger and the target ducked down out of the sight picture. The result was a thwack of a bolt hitting the crate that had recently been blocked by the target’s body.
The two assassins would have elicited swears had the darksuits not made it difficult to speak.
Gilda quickly activated her culernus and leapt to the air as cries of, “They’re on the other side,” came from the other side of the wall of crates. Gilda sank the claws into the neck of a griffon who had flown over the crates, tearing out his jugulars before landing on top of the crates.
The body dove into the ground below and another griffon landed on the same crate as she had. Gilda slashed at his face, drawing a series of red lines across it, and he cried out, clutching his face with a paw and blindly swiping at her with the other. She responded by shoving her culernus into his gut and slicing apart his innards before sending him off the wall of crates as well.
A bolt whizzed past her face and she hopped backwards into the darkness once more as a few others followed.
Back in the shadows, she noticed the target head into a side passage.
“I after target,” she yelled back at Clive, not bothering with gestures. Without pausing to see if he had understood, she raced after the target.
He was fast, but, even in her darksuit, she was faster. He looked over his shoulder at the last second before she tackled him and was unable to do anything as he was brought down by the superior fighter.
She retracted her culernus and drew a short thin knife that was perfect for going through ribs.
“Wait,” the target said, “I have useful information!”
Gilda paused, listening.
“If you take me back to your headquarters and promise to let me go then I can tell you. About a mole!”
“Tell me now,” Gilda forced out, “I take you back, they kill you,” she threw a quick glance beyond her shoulder, nogriffon was in sight, “You lie, I kill you.”
“You’ll let me go?”
Gilda nodded.
“We don’t deal with names, but the mole was a griffon in a group that was only dubbed SO6. I know now that that stands for Special Operations pairing number six. Your mole is one of the griffons in that pair.”
Gilda took all of this in silence.
“You’ll let me go now?” the target asked.
Gilda looked over her shoulder again, still clear.
“After I send you to hell,” she said, not caring that most of the words were unintelligible.
She brought the knife to his chest, above the left lung and the griffon grabbed the knife in a desperate attempt to stop her. She smiled, knowing that his grip was weak and that she could easily overpower him. She slowly let the blade descend while he strained to keep it aloft. It took a short period of time for it to descend into his flesh and penetrate his left lung.
The target winced in pain and started to breathe rapidly to make up for the punctured organ. Gilda forced the blade down faster for the next lung and finally deprived the griffon of breathing. Despite the lost lungs, his body still fought for air, but found none and his brain soon shut down, his eyes glazing over and his body becoming still after a final muscle spasm.
Gilda got up from the corpse and delivered a kick to his groin to make sure he was actually dead. The body didn’t react and Gilda went back to the main area of the warehouse.
“Where you been?” Clive asked, having removed his mask. None of the other griffons in the room were still alive and Clive had received a few cuts to his suit, “I almost got worried.”
“Target’s dead,” Gilda said, removing her own mask, “I also have some information on the mole. He...or she, is in SpecOps pair six. You know which one that is?”
“Top of my head?” Clive shrugged, “No, but we can find out.”
Gilda nodded, “Let’s put the final nail in this motherfucker’s coffin.”
“There is not a thing on this world more satisfying than the thrill of the hunt!” ~Anonymous ______________________________________________________________________________
Gilda searched through the filing cabinet until she found the file she was looking for. ‘Special Operations Pair #6’ the title read.
“Clive said that you have some information on the mole,” Gilda turned to see Fulton standing in the doorway, “The branch of service and the pair number?”
Gilda nodded, “SpecOps pair six,” She turned back, after all this time the same target from the incident where the mole was discovered had led to them finally finding the mole’s identity. After a year of research they were finally going to uncover who it was that was messing with them.
Taking no more time to reflect, Gilda looked at the file and flipped it open. The griffon staring back at her from the picture was instantly recognizable...in fact he was standing right behind her!
Gilda gasped and started to turn before a muscle laden arm wrapped around her throat and started choking her. The second that the arm went around her throat, Gilda pitched forwards, sending her attacker crashing into a filing cabinet, his own weight used against him.
Fulton was on his feet again the second after he hit the floor. Gilda had rushed to the door of the room and twisted the handle to find it locked. Before she could unlock it, Fulton knocked her away and took a defensive stance in front of the door, waiting for her to attack. Both griffons knew that the room was soundproofed and the only way for Gilda to warn the others was by neutralizing Fulton.
“Why, Fulton?” Gilda asked as she sized up her opponent, looking for some sort of weak point she could exploit.
Fulton was undoubtedly doing the same to her, however he didn’t speak.
“How could you, YOU of all griffons, be the piece of shit mole?” She inquired, starting to slowly pace in front of him, thinking of a way to defeat the larger and equally skilled opponent.
Fulton, however, continued with his silence. His expression appeared as if he were simply throwing an average glance at his opponent, though for an extended period of time.
Without showing any form of warning, Gilda snatched a chair from beside her and hurled it at Fulton. The griffon hopped over the impromptu missile and blocked an attack from Gilda who attacked right after the chair.
Fulton threw a punch after blocking the attack, Gilda ducked away from it and gave her nemesis a jab to the side. He grunted, but showed no other sign of injury. Fulton reached behind him and grabbed the chair, arcing it around and impacting Gilda in the side. She cried out as she was thrown into a wall. When breathing proved painful she believed that at least one of her ribs was broken. She sputtered and a line of spit was trailed by a line of blood.
Before she could move, Gilda was lifted into the air and two powerful paws wrapped around her neck. She lashed out and was slammed into the ground before being brought back up. Dazed, she could only weakly latch onto Fulton’s arms.
“You want to know why, Gilda?” Fulton asked, “I’ll tell you as a parting gift from this world. Everything has a price, even loyalty. Thing was, my other associates paid better than his majesty.”
“Fucker!” Gilda declared before Fulton cut off her oxygen supply. He said no more. Gilda’s lungs burned and her mind grew foggy as oxygen deprivation slowly drained her of life. Black spots danced before her eyes and the last thing she saw before she died was a smile on Fulton’s face. She had never seen the fellow griffon smile before and it was an ugly thing. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Breathe, for fuck’s sake! Breathe!”
Gilda coughed and sputtered, drawing in a large breath of air before coughing some more. She tried to sit up but was quickly pushed back down.
“Oh, god! We thought we’d lost you!” Clive declared, wrapping Gilda in an embrace, which she feebly pushed away.
“Gilda, what happened?” Gilda’s eyes moved over and fixed on Ales, “Where’s Fulton?”
After a few failed attempts, Gilda was able to form coherent words, “Fulton’s...the mole.”
“That bastard!” Clive yelled, “Did he do this?”
Gilda would have replied with a sarcastic remark if she hadn’t just been brought back to life. As that was the case, she only nodded.
“Shit!” Clive smashed a fist into the ground, “I saw him leave the files room before I came in, can’t believe I missed that piece of shit!” He gave an enraged growl.
“We need to get her to medical and see his majesty about this. Now that he’s been discovered we’ll be lucky if we ever see Fulton again,” Ales turned to Clive, “You said he had some files, could you make any out?”
“Damnit, no,” Clive said, “When I get my paws on that son of a whore...”
Ales interrupted him with a paw on his shoulder, he looked at her and realized that there was a deep well of raging emotion in her eyes, “You’re going to have to wait to take your turn,” Despite himself, Clive was slightly fearful of the other griffon at that moment, “Enough of this, let’s get Gilda to medical and let his majesty know what’s going on.” ______________________________________________________________________________
“Watch her,” Gilda mumbled to Clive as Ales left.
“I don’t think she was in on Fulton’s little game, but don’t worry, I will,” Clive replied.
“And Clive...” Gilda said before the griffon could leave. He looked at her, “Thanks.”
“...so it turns out that Fulton was the mole,” Ales was saying, “The clues were there, but other clues countered those out. Gilda said that the motive was money, bribery to be exact. We are not clear what Fulton took with him but it likely had something to do with tracking him down and covering up his own tracks. If we can have records compared with what’s missing, that will help us guess as to what Fulton took. I do understand that I’m in a bad position, being Fulton’s pair, but I can prove that I wasn’t in on his game via transaction records. If we delve deep enough, there’s sure to have something turn up against Fulton, however it will not be the same for me. I will come quietly if you wish to arrest me to make sure,” Finished, Ales was quiet and waited for a response.
The griffon king watched them with his uniquely red eyes for a time. Ales knew that he could do more than arrest her if he so desired. He didn’t even need a decent reason. However, unlike his predecessor, this king did not act as if he could do anything and get away with it, even though he could.
“Your family has served the Kingdoms for many generations, Agent Ales. I do not doubt your loyalty,” His majesty said, getting a grateful smile from the griffon before him, “There are copies of all files and the ones Fulton has taken can be replaced,” this brought a surprised look to both Ales and Clive’s faces. They had always been told that only one copy of everything was ever kept. Both immediately knew that they were being treated with a very large secret, “Until a replacement can be found, Ales will join your pair, Clive. You are to study the files that are missing and find Fulton. I prefer him brought back alive and in possession of most of his body, if you must kill him then make it slow and painful. Fulton has caused the Kingdoms a great deal of suffering, one he shall see repaid in kind. That is all,” After a moment of thought, the king surprised the griffons, “Windspeed and may your hunt be fruitful.”
“A blessing?” Clive commented once they had left the large room, “Fulton must’ve done a shit-of-a-lot more than we know if the king wants him that bad. We’re getting promoted after this for sure! Gilda’ll be happy to hear that!”
“I couldn’t give a pony shit about anything but getting my paws on that traitor. The king knows our family’s blood is good but by being my pair, Fulton soiled it ever so.”
“Well you’ve got first dibs on beating the shit outta him,” Clive said, after a few moments of silence he continued, “You wanna get a drink?”
“...the most powerful magic known to Ponydom, the Elements of Harmony.” ~Reference Guide to the Elements of Harmony ______________________________________________________________________________
“She received a few broken ribs, some bruising, especially around the neck, and a mild concussion,” The doctor said, looking over his clipboard, “She’ll be witty as wind in a few days, but she needs her rest now. Visiting hours are almost over so if you must then be quick about it, okay?”
Clive nodded and started down the hallway of the hospital. He had an eye for one room in particular and he soon found it. He pushed inside and immediately the griffon in the sick green smock on the bed looked over at him.
“I was wondering when you were gonna drop by,” Gilda smiled and cringed before rubbing her head, “What’s new?”
“His majesty trusts Ales, but I still have my doubts. He’s assigned her to our pair until a replacement can be found and assigned us to study some files to learn more about what Fulton may have stolen. Fulton is desired alive and in mostly one piece, he must’ve done a lot more than we knew because his majesty really wants to treat Fulton to some torture.”
“Who doesn’t?” Gilda chuckled to herself, “You forget that that fucker killed me. Speaking of which, thanks again for bringing me back.”
“You know I’d never let you down,” he said, giving her a fist bump before smiling idiotically, “See any bright lights? You know that I warned you about going near those things when your heart stops beating.”
Gilda rolled her eyes and would have given her fellow griffon a punch to the shoulder or a slap upside the head if she weren’t confined to bed. “No really, what was it like being dead for about two minutes?” Clive asked, getting serious.
Gilda shrugged, “I dunno. It felt like a second between blacking out and you telling me to breathe, if I didn’t know better I’d say that I was only gone for a second or two.”
Clive sighed, “Well then I’ll just have to wait and see for myself then,” he chuckled and nudged her with an elbow, “Get well soon, I need to get back to egghead paradise and study the stuff with Ales.” ______________________________________________________________________________
(One week later)
“So let’s go over what we’ve got,” Clive said, looking over the documents in front of him.
Huntley, Ales’s new pair, spoke up. He was a slightly older veteran with an odd voice and a scar to explain it. At one point in his career, Huntley had been captured and a sick mobster with an odd fetish had removed the griffon’s larynx, “Fulton took all the files based on different failed missions which have all been linked to him,” Huntley said in a slow and deliberate monotone, “As well as some documents that showed money transfers and his own file. We can assume that he did this to cover his tracks and deny us any way of tracking him down,” Huntley stopped, allowing Ales a chance to speak.
“Even with the assembled information, we can get little. But,” she picked out a file and opened it, “We were able to trace some of the money transfers to an organization that was funded by the target that gave us the drop on Fulton, the reason that Fulton sabotaged that mission to begin with. We’re still working on cracking down on the name. We do know, however, that this organization is not solely griffon, there are some equines and even a dragon who are in on it, maybe more,” Beside her, Huntley nodded in approval.
“So now we’re cracking down on this organization to find it out and destroy it?” Gilda asked, looking from the papers before the four griffons to the two opposite her. The two nodded, “How close are we?”
“Well we have some account numbers, but they’re encrypted. Intelligence is still working on cracking them. When we have the numbers, we can match them with names and start breaking down doors and poisoning wine until we wipe this organization off the face of the earth and bring Fulton to justice,” Huntley explained, “So until intelligence cracks the codes, there is little we can do for this case. When I explained as much to his majesty, he said for the four of us to meet him once Gilda was up and about,” Huntley gestured towards Gilda, “Seeing as that is the case, I suggest that we go and see his majesty.”
“Wait, a walk-in?” Clive asked, both afraid and enthusiastic about it at the same time. Whenever his majesty asked for a group to come in off appointment, it meant either something truly awful or something very important for the attendees.
Huntley nodded, “In the light of everything, I would expect this to be of great import to us and not great harm. Either way, now that Gilda is here we should see the king about this. Come.” With that, Huntley got down on all fours and began towards the door, the three others following him. ______________________________________________________________________________
The four griffons had to wait a while before they were granted audience with his majesty, being as they didn’t have an appointment. However, they were pushed ahead of a few scheduled visits, much to a certain waiting salesgriffon’s silent displeasure.
After bowing, they awaited the king’s explanation.
“At least two of you here will remember Operation Harmony,” Gilda and Clive perked up at the mention of that mission and the king noticed, “It was an utter failure and only with my infinite mercy were those held responsible spared. Something has arisen, and Operation Harmony is once again active,” Gilda was unable to hide her surprise, why was the king telling some SpecOps griffons this? Operation Harmony dealt with outside issues, Red Paw territory, “And you two pairs have been selected among a few others to take up this mission. Seeing as the organization that you have discovered is mostly outside of my jurisdiction, you will eventually need to be promoted to Red Paw anyways. Seeing your accomplishments, it was also noted that you might come in handy for Operation Harmony and therefore, you are here,” Not even Huntley could hide his surprise when he was told that he’d be getting promoted to Red Paw. Gilda could hardly contain herself, the thoughts of Operation Harmony being the only things that kept her in check, “For now, tracking down Fulton is on hiatus, Operation Harmony is far more important. You will meet up with the other Red Paw pairs and get the briefing, Dismissed.”
With a bow, the four newly christened Red Paw griffons left the massive and luxurious room. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Why am I not surprised?” A stuck-up griffon named Kyne asked as Gilda and Clive entered after Ales and Huntley.
‘Because you’re a fucking asshole,’ Gilda wanted to say, but bit it back as Huntley spoke up.
“If you could kindly fill us in on the situation?” The older veteran asked, cutting right to the chase.
Zephrine answered before her rather stuck up pair could, “As you all know, Operation Harmony revolves around the equinian ‘Elements of Harmony.’ However, different aspects have changed. A year ago, the point was to draw one of the Elemental bearers away from the rest to deny the Equestrians a weapon that might be used against us should we decide to invade. As of now, it has changed to ponynapping all six and pilfering them away back to the Kingdoms so we might be able to harness their powers,” She held up a paw to hold off questions and comments, “We have received word that in four weeks there will be a large wedding in Canterlot and that the Elemental bearers will all likely be there. The fastest way from Ponyville to Canterlot is via train. On the way back, we are going to intercept this train, capture the Elemental bearers alive,” As Zephrine stressed the last word, Gilda could have sworn that she glanced at her deliberately, “and force the train into a catastrophic accident. We make it appear as if the Elemental bearers died and are able to take them back here for whatever his majesty wishes. For the in depth details, we have files that you can go over. Any questions?” Zephrine looked at the four newcomers, awaiting a response.
“So the order is still that the six are to be taken alive, nothing else?” Gilda asked, already forming plans of revenge in her head.
“Alive, with no irreparable damage, and only injury with just cause. I know what you’re thinking, Gilda, but the king wants the Elemental bearers alive and mostly well. A little roughing up will be all that he won’t question and I doubt that your reputation will keep you alive if you disobey orders on this mission. I hope that I’m clear.”
Gilda grumbled to herself but otherwise remained silent. She’d get even with those ponies who made her look like a fool one way or another, she knew it.
“Whether it is for the best or the worse, change is never easy.” ~Anonymous ______________________________________________________________________________
(Two weeks later)
“Still nothing?” Clive asked, looking over at Huntley.
“Still nothing,” Huntley confirmed.
“Ugh, the groom’s her fucking brother! You’d think that they’d send her and her friends to Canterlot by now. I mean, it's not like she left on bad grounds or anything,” Clive grumbled.
“Why does it matter?” Ales asked a second before Huntley did, “We care about them returning to Ponyville, not leaving it. It wouldn’t matter if he let her know a day or two in advance so long as she and the other five returned. Why are you getting so worked up about this?” She asked, getting a stare of approval from Huntley who was going to say the same.
“Because I’m getting bored. Intelligence has a few codes cracked for Fulton’s case, but we’re stuck here planning on what we’re going to do about ponynapping these six bitches. I wanna see a bit of action, you know?”
“Good things come to those who wait,” Huntley said.
“What are you, my mother?” Clive asked, getting a glare from both Ales and Huntley.
Before either could reply, there was a knock on the door and Clive opted to get it. He unlocked the mechanism and opened it, revealing Gilda, “You’re early,” Clive said, stepping back to let her in.
“Yeah,” Gilda said, entering the room. From behind her, Clive raised an eyebrow, that wasn’t how he would have expected Gilda to react.
Clive closed and locked the door, “Everything alright, Gilda?” He asked suspiciously.
“Now that I’m here it is,” She said. Gilda burst into green flame, causing everygriffon in the room to jump. After a fraction of a second, Gilda was replaced by a blackish equinian creature with ice blue eyes, semi-opaque bug-like wings, an upwards curving horn, and holes punched through its lower legs and tail. To sum it up, the creature was a Changeling.
The creature opened its fanged mouth before Clive, whose jump had been more of a tackle, knocked the creature back and pinned it to the ground.
“Where is she!” He growled in the changeling’s face. He wrapped a paw around the creature’s neck, applying enough pressure to choke, but not enough to deny speech.
The surprised changeling tried to push his assailant away but received a kick to the gut.
“Where’s Gilda!?” Clive roared.
“I don’t...know!” The changeling struggled to say, “I...took her form...because she had left!”
Clive glared down into the creature’s eyes, searching for deception and finding none. Done interrogating, Clive tightened his grip around the changeling’s neck, “Wait! Wait!” The changeling barely manage to choke out. Clive released the pressure around the changeling’s neck, and the changeling gasped for air.
“Talk, bug-brain, before I decide to splatter you against the fuckin wall!”
The changeling nodded, its voice was raspy, as if it hadn’t had water in a long time, “We understand that we have an enemy in the Equines. Our queen desires your services in order to defeat our common enemy. After all,” The changeling smiled, “The enemy of my enemy is my...gack!” Clive’s paw wrapped around the changeling’s throat again.
“The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend, you little shit. What do you mean by us being enemies with the ponies, who told you that?” Clive glared and released his quarry’s neck again.
The changeling made a dismissive noise, “On the outside it may appear that you and the ponies are friends, but it is what happens behind closed doors,” the changeling indicated the door to the room, “that proves my point. Do you think that your intelligence service is the only one worth a damn? A species that can take on any form can be quite good spies, you know,” the changeling grinned at the implication, “Taking the Elements of Harmony hostage doesn’t sound very neighborly to me. Now before you go choking me again, listen. You and I, our species at least, have a common enemy in the ponies. Apart we could do some damage, yes, but combined the possibilities are endless!”
“Is this just some way to mooch off of our operations to get a little piece for yourselves?” Clive snapped.
“Um, Clive, wouldn’t it be a better idea to take this bug to the king?” Ales asked.
“Before we know what the little bugger wants? No,” Clive turned back to the changeling, “Go on.”
“You are well aware of the wedding taking place in Canterlot, we are as well. As you know, we feed off love, so what better host than a bride or groom?” The changeling smiled wickedly, “You may have noticed the magical shield over Canterlot? Pony spies discovered our plans of attacking Equestria and that shield repels us. However, we know that it is the groom who is the shield bearer. If our queen were able to take the place of the bride and then leech off of the groom’s love, she could eventually lower the shield, allowing us to take Canterlot!”
“But the shield is where your problem comes in,” Huntley observed, getting a nod from the changeling, “Let me guess, you want us to get your queen inside the barrier so she can ‘work her magic’ and weaken the shield.”
“Correct,” the changeling said, “In return, once we had captured all of Equestria, the Griffon Kingdoms would receive a sizable area as compensation for your work.”
“How much land?” Huntley asked, his mind going into calculation mode.
“And what’s going to stop you from turning on us once you’re done with the ponies?” Ales asked.
The changeling looked at her and laughed, getting a punch to the gut from Clive who was still pinning him down, “We feed off of love, remember. Not corruption or greed, you griffons have barely any love that we could use. With your lack of magic, it would be far easier for us to take over the Griffon Kingdoms than Equestria, but Equestria is ripe with love! And to answer the question of land, that is to be taken up with your king. So what say you,” the changeling looked to Clive, “Shall we go and see your king?” ______________________________________________________________________________
Clive had expected something more interesting during the confrontation, but it was actually rather boring. The changeling explained the situation while the king silently listened and after a few words and a decision on the land gained, he agreed on the spot.
The griffons were dismissed, told to go and find a way to allow the changeling queen in.
“I’m surprised that he just agreed like that,” Gilda, who had joined them before they left the room, commented, “What if the changelings fail?”
“I’m not,” said Huntley, “No matter the outcome, it’s a win-win situation for us.”
Gilda and Clive gave the elder griffon odd looks and Ales answered with what she hoped Huntley meant, “If the changelings win, Equestria falls and we get some land. To top it off, the changelings are weakened by the battle and are in a position of recovery, giving us an opportune time to strike and eliminate them as well as the ponies. On the flipside, if the changelings are defeated then the ponies are in a state of recovery, giving us a chance to attack them at their weakest moment and eliminate them. No matter what, the odds are in our favor.”
“Exactly,” Huntley rasped.
“Never thought about it that way,” Clive said, more to himself than to anygriffon.
“Wisdom comes with age and age comes to those who wait,” Huntley said, chuckling quietly to himself.
“Yes, mother,” Clive said, trying to imitate a child’s voice. He laughed, but received a questioning look from Gilda and glares from the other two griffons, “We’ve got a shield to break, let’s not tarry!”
“Before anything else, preparation is the key to success.” ~Alexander Graham Bell ______________________________________________________________________________
(One week later)
“Ah, the great and mighty capital of the great land of Equestria,” Clive said, holding up his paws as if to convey an infinite sort of greatness, “Canterlot!”
“Skip the theatrics, Clive. Nogriffon gives a shit,” Gilda commented as she pushed past him, away from the train, “Sooner we’re in and out the better.”
“Is that a pun directed at our sexual relationship?” Clive asked, Ales snickered, Huntley ignored the comment, and Gilda threw a glance at Clive that should have killed him.
Biting back a rather violent physical reply, Gilda followed Huntley’s example, “So what was the name of the hotel we’re staying at?”
“It’s a rather well known big time place, the Hoofiday Inn. They have at least one in all of the major cities,” Huntley croaked, drawing a few extra glances from bystanders. Not just griffons, but griffons with that odd voice?
“So long as it’s got four walls, a roof, and a bed, I’m happy,” Clive said, his head on a swivel to take in and analyze the sights of the city.
“Then I’ll make sure to downgrade you from suite to shack,” Huntley said, staring straight ahead. Clive looked with an eyebrow raised at the elder griffon behind him, after a few seconds of awkward silence, Huntley spoke again, “I’m joking, Clive.”
“Oh,” Clive said, laughing a bit but suddenly stopping, “Wait, you joke?” ______________________________________________________________________________
“Beautiful vantage point,” Ales commented as she peered out the room’s window, “Get a decent enough Acrumsire and you’d be able to rain on quite a parade.”
“Pff, I can do that if I drink enough,” Clive said, getting a set of rolled eyes from Ales.
“The door between our rooms is there for a reason,” she said, turning to Clive, who was standing in the doorway of the room separator, “I’d ask how you unlocked it, but I can see you have your lockpick so instead I’ll ask what you want.”
“To pick another lock, I’m bored,” Clive explained with a wing-shrug.
“Oh, go bother Gilda or raid your mini fridge.”
“It isn’t complementary. Come to think of it, the mini fridge isn’t complimentary either...” Clive said, trailing off.
“Well neither am I,” Ales turned back to her suitcase and started piecing together the large telescope stored within while Huntley continued to study a map.
“Ouch. Well I’m going to go raid my other neighbor’s mini fridge, assuming they aren’t home. You want anything?” Clive asked.
“Why not? Nothing girly and if you get caught then this conversation never happened.”
Clive gave a goofy salute and closed the door.
“So we know that there’s one pony running the shield twenty-four seven,” Huntley began as Ales finished her telescope and started peering through it, “Under normal circumstances, killing him off would give us a time where the shield was inactive, but since we need him alive for the queen to feed off of, that presents a problem. Our shield bearer is the only one, so he doesn’t swap duties with other ponies meaning that assassination is out of the question...” Huntley stopped to let Ales pick up, which she did.
“So perhaps sabotage is a better idea,” she paused in thought, scanning over the crowded streets below and making an adjustment on the telescope, “If we could bring down the shield, even for the briefest of moments, that could give us a window to get the queen inside. Seeing that this shield is maintained, even in sleep, I would assume that it's a ‘cast and forget’ spell that must occasionally be replenished. If we could let the shield not be replenished for long enough, it would become weak enough that it would fall. But then there’s the fact that the shield is probably replenished long before it is about to run out of energy meaning that we’d need to do something crazy in order to keep the shield bearer form replenishing it...” Ales thought for a while about other forms of sabotage. During this time, Clive entered and placed a bottle of hard cider next to her before saluting again with a smile and leaving, “I really can’t think of a way that sabotage could work subtly enough for it to not be considered sabotage.”
Huntley gave a nod, never looking up from the map unless he was switching tools. Ales popped the top off her stolen drink and took a few sips. She looked over to Huntley to see if he wanted any, but the griffon was looking studiously over his map and she looked back to her telescope.
“We should move into the castle to plant some bugs later, the queen needs at least a week with the shield bearer and that gives us two to find a flaw in this shield. We have plenty of time.” ______________________________________________________________________________
“So tell me again how this thing works?” Gilda asked, looking over the mark two darksuit in her paws. It was similar to the original, but it had interlocking plates, was considerably heavier, and made flight almost impossible for a yet unexplained reason.
“When worn, the suit taps into the creature’s magical field and uses that magic for power. Hence, our wings lose their magical capabilities and make flight almost impossible. However, the payoff is well worth it. The magic is used to bend light around the wearer and renders them completely invisible. However, due to the fact that light can no longer reach your eyes, you would normally be blind as a bat. To combat this, these goggles do not use light to work, but heat,” Huntley explained.
“Sounds like a load of shit to me,” Gilda commented. There was a tap on her shoulder and she turned her head to see nogriffon there. She sighed, having fallen again for that dumb old trick and looked to the other side to see...nogriffon?
There was a rustle of plates and then Clive’s head appeared floating in the air behind her, “Boo!” he exclaimed, sending Gilda shooting towards the ceiling with a cry of terror. Clive’s floating head laughed out loud, “This thing is fuckin awesome!” He looked down at where his body should have been and after a few seconds more of him was exposed and a mark two darksuit appeared over part of his body, “The plates can be a little bit noisy when you walk, but you’re completely invisible! No shadow or anything! Gilda, try yours on!”
Gilda’s heart rate had returned to normal by now and after glaring at Clive for a few moments, she was calm again. She pulled on her own suit, noting that it activated once she was wearing it up to her neck. She pulled the mask on and everything went black for a few seconds before everything appeared in a multi colored sheen.
“Geez, everything is so...weird looking,” she said, she found it easier to talk with the mark two as it seemed there was space for her beak to move, “So none of you can see me?” She began to stalk away slowly.
“Hold on a second,” Clive said, his oddly colored form appeared to pull on itself for a short while, “Now I can,” Clive looked around and locked onto her, “Hi, Gilda!” he said, waving.
“The mark two darksuit does not block thermal images so two griffons wearing them will be able to see each other. The field around you is about a centimeter off your body so you won’t be able to bring any weapons or gear,” Huntley explained, “The mark two darksuit does have a small pouch where you can carry a few very small items, bugs for example, however they will appear in your paw when you hold them, so getting one out and placing it should be fast and smooth. The ponies will not likely suspect anything, but it’s better to be more cautious than less...would you two mind showing yourselves?” Huntley said, looking around.
Gilda and Clive pulled their headpieces off and then tugged the suit down a bit further to deactivate it.
“So we head over to the castle at night and plant some bugs,” Clive began, “Any particular places?”
Huntley nodded before speaking, “We want to keep and ear and an eye on the shield bearer to see if he has a routine or if he goes different places at different times. We have plenty of bugs, but a few places that we need him include his sleeping area, the chow hall, the hallways between these, and a bunch on the castle’s main grounds. I’ve written up a list of exact spots for you to bug, we’ve got audio and visual. I suggest that the two of you go over the spots so you can infil and exfil faster,” Gilda and Clive nodded and Huntley turned to pick up a set of papers before handing them over, “Good luck.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Gilda crawled up the pillar, trying her hardest not to make noise. She made her way to the top and reached to her side for the small pouch.
From it, she procured two gems, one red and one blue. Both were smaller than marbles. Gilda placed them in a small outcropping of the pillar’s luxurious aesthetics. She heard Clive make a click from below and froze as the sound of hooves clopping over marble flooring trotted past her. Clive clicked again and Gilda quickly made her way down.
“One last bug?” Clive gestured with his paws.
Gilda nodded the affirmative, “The last place is the shield bearer’s living quarters,” she motioned, “Let’s go.”
The two made their way to the shield bearer’s quarters, stopping whenever a guard came too close and continuing once he was out of sound range. There were fewer guards at night, but there were still a lot and one little slip of noise might blow their cover right out of the figurative water.
It took them some time, but they were eventually at a door marked Capt. Shining Armor in bright, bold, and surprisingly fancy lettering. After making sure that the coast was clear, the two griffons pushed inside and went about their work.
Both made silent sighs of relief that they didn’t wake the sleeping white unicorn in the room. Clive went over to a dresser and placed a single blue gem on top. He then turned to a picture and forcefully shoved a red gem into a spot of red, where it would be nigh impossible no notice.
Gilda made her way to the bathroom and, standing on the toilet, reached up to grab onto the hanging light and place a single blue gem inside. She nodded pridefully at their handiwork before she heard a groan from the main bedroom. She froze, her front paws gripping the hanging light and her back feet placed atop the toilet.
The unicorn, rubbing his forehead with an eye squeezed shut, trotted into the bathroom. Gilda gave a silent pray to whatever gods would listen that the pony didn’t need to use the toilet. The gods favored her quest as the pony, mumbling about a migraine, moved to the medicine cabinet and opened it with his magic. He produced a small medicine container and popped it open, levitating a single pill to the counter-top around the sink before recapping the bottle and replacing it.
Gilda felt a bead of sweat on her brow but ignored it since it was under her darksuit and wouldn’t end up in some cheap movie rip-off. Instead, her paws slipped and she fell, catching herself with an audible clack of paws-on-marble. She winced and looked at the unicorn who was staring right at where she was. Though she couldn’t make out any of his features, she guessed that he was squinting in confusion.
“Somepony there?” He asked, there was a slight heat increase around his head as he cast a spell. At first she thought it was directed at her, but a telekinesis spell drew the curtains away from the shower, revealing nothing.
Gilda was afraid that the pony might hear her heart racing as he continued to stare towards her. Under normal circumstances, Shining Armor would have simply shrugged and trotted off, but there was the Changeling threat and paranoia got the best of him. He charged up a semi-complex ‘reveal’ spell and fired. It would have hit the tiles of the shower wall had Gilda not been between the two.
“What the!” Shining Armor exclaimed, rearing back as Gilda’s form appeared in front of him.
Gilda hissed out a curse and her mind raced for what to...the sound of a chair breaking over a skull shattered her thoughts and Shining Armor collapsed to the floor, out cold.
“Comin outta your paycheck, general,” Clive said, dusting off his paws. He looked to Gilda, “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
“He cast a ‘reveal’ spell, can you see me?” Gilda asked.
Clive paused and pulled back his mask before replacing it, “No, you’re fine...and by fine I mean invisible. Let’s get a move on before this asshole wakes up.”
Gilda nodded and the two quickly made their way out. Luck was with them when a guard had just passed the door before they silently opened it and slipped out.
Clive tapped his wrist, signaling that they had a limited amount of time before the unicorn woke up. Neither griffon wanted to be around in case the royal guard lit up the palace with ‘reveal’ spells and they made some haste, cutting a few corners for time.
The main doors were in sight when a cry came out, “Invisible intruders in the castle! Lock all doors immediately!”
The griffons booked it, no longer giving a shit about what noise they made as they shot through the doors and outside of the massive castle right before the doors were magically slammed shut.
All the way back, Gilda could see that Clive was bursting with the need to cry out in joy. Only the fact that cries of glee from an invisible griffon were not a normal everyday occurrence stopped him. They snuck into an alleyway near their hotel and got out of the darksuits, hiding them away for later.
Clive wore an idiotic grin all the way to their hotel room and let it out in a cry of joy once the door closed behind them.
“Oh god! Holy shit, was that close! I mean, WOW! You were hanging from that light and then...” Clive gobbled before Gilda cut in.
“I was there, Clive. Be quiet, will you?” She said.
Clive stopped himself, “Right. But goddamn I love that feel of adrenaline!” There was a knock at the door separating their room from Ales and Huntley’s. Clive shot to it and opened it with a flourish, “Yes?” He asked Huntley, the knocker.
“I take it everything went well?” Huntley asked, moving in with Ales at his tail.
“Yeah, but Gilda got discovered and I had to improvise,” Clive explained, “Only permanent casualty was a nice wooden chair.” Ales and Huntley’s expressions demanded explanation, which Clive gave, “Gilda kinda fell and the shield bearer got her with some ‘reveal’ spell. I grabbed a chair and bashed him over the head.”
“Shit,” Ales swore.
“This could be bad,” Huntley started, thinking as he did so, “Hopefully he won’t suspect us griffons on account of the darksuit Gilda was wearing, but we need to be ready to fly...or at least the two of you need to. We’ve got your alibis, the two of you being here all night, and that should hold up. Everything else went according to plan, though? All the bugs are in place?”
Gilda and Clive nodded, “Got em all set and ready.”
“Good,” Huntley said, “Nothing we can do for now, so go to sleep. Hopefully we’ll know what to do or what not to do in the morning. Either way, our preparations are in place.”
Way ______________________________________________________________________________
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” ~Old English Proverb ______________________________________________________________________________
“Look into my magical ball!” Clive said spookily, waving his paws around in small circles, “And see...the FUTURE!”
“Clive, shut-up,” Gilda said flatly, “Put that red gem in and lets see if this thing actually works,” She set down the rather small users manual as Clive sighed and placed a small red gem into a slot atop the clear crystal ball.
The ball instantly lit up and images were plastered to the walls of the room, the two griffon’s shadows cutting out shapes in the picture.
“Woah!” Clive said, looking at his shadow and acting goofily as always, “This thing is awesome!”
“Clive!” Gilda growled, getting her partner’s attention back on track, “Which area of the castle is this?” She examined the walls, seeing the interior of a part of the Canterlot Castle as seen from one of the many bugs they had placed.
“Hallway one-oh-seven,” Clive said, marking it down and removing the small red gem. The picture was gone and the room filled with darkness again. Clive selected another red gem, identical to another gem bug in the castle, and placed it in the crystal ball. This continued on for a time before all the red gems were catalogued and it was time to do the blue ones.
To get the locations of each of the audio bugs, a blue and red gem were placed into separate slots in the crystal ball and the combination of audio and visual provided by the crystal ball was matched up to determine the location. The only time this didn’t work was with the few standalone blue gems, which were slightly more difficult to categorize as there were no visual bugs to use. Either way, the finished product was the ability to listen and even look in on most of the Canterlot Castle from their hotel room.
“Well that was really fucking tedious,” Clive said with an annoyed voice, “Hard? No, but tedious? Hell yeah!”
“Well we’re finished now, so quit bitching and let’s get to stalking the shield bearer.”
“Right,” Clive said, “Where did we see him last?”
Before Gilda could reply, there was a knock at the door. Gilda quickly put the blue and red gems away before taking anything that looked incriminating and hiding it as well. Meanwhile, Clive went to the door and looked through the eye-hole. He spotted a tan-hided pony mare with dark brown hair and a maid’s apron, there was a service cart next to her.
“Who is it?” Clive asked.
“Room service,” Came the muffled reply. Clive looked back to Gilda, who wing-shrugged and jerked a thumb to Ales and Huntley’s room as if to suggest they ordered something. Clive shrugged in return and undid the locks, “Thanks, I’ll just take that and be off your hooves...”
“Allow me,” the pony said kindly with a smile, placing her front hooves on the cart and starting into the room.
“Oh, no, that’s quite alright, I can take it from here,” Clive said combatting the smile with a fake, but not cheap, knock-off.
The pony frowned before sighing and rolling her blue eyes. She stared right at Clive and her eyes shifted to complete blue orbs for a moment, “I insist,” the changeling said, voice shifting for but a moment.
“Oh,” Clive said, stepping back and letting the changeling push the cart into the room. He closed door behind him and the changeling turned to him. He grabbed the creature by the throat and slammed it to the ground. The changeling winced and the black pony-beetle hybrid’s disguise fell.
“Clive?” Gilda asked curiously.
“How the hell is there a changeling in Canterlot with that shield up?” He explained to Gilda before turning to his captive, who was rubbing his head with a hoof, “Mind letting us in on that little secret before I make it a little hard for you to breathe?”
The changeling fixed Clive with a glare, “I was here before the shield went up, you cretin! You don’t think that we have a few of our own in every capital across the globe?”
“Likely story,” Clive said neutrally, not giving away whether he was being sarcastic or sincere, “Either way, what the hell do you think that you’re doing here? You can’t just waltz around waving around the fact that you’re a changeling like it’s some VIP pass.”
“Seeing that we’re on the same team and working on the same mission, it only seems logical that we keep each other in the loop,” the changeling explained.
After a moment’s pause, Clive released the changeling and took a step back. The changeling got to his hooves before brushing himself off. Clive snickered, getting a look from the changeling to which he replied, “Kinda hard to take you seriously with that girly maid’s dress,” he pointed at the white linen that clashed with the black hide of the changeling.
“Company uniform,” the changeling said with a hint of annoyance, “Our queen would like to know how you are doing. She’s ready whenever you are and would like a twenty-four hour advance notice.”
“Speaking of that, how do we contact your queen about that?” Gilda inquired.
The changeling looked over to her, “Just find me, all changelings share a link to our queen and can communicate with her if the need be. I, as you can tell, work here. Just call for room service and I’ll be here. Speaking of which, your friends ordered something for you, hence,” the changeling pointed to the cart which was giving off the mouth watering (to the griffons at least) smell of fish.
“As to the status of the mission, we got bugs up in the castle and are currently looking into a flaw or some way to get your queen into Canterlot. We can’t tell how long it will take, but if there’s a way then we’ll find it,” Gilda reported.
The changeling nodded, “Good,” he said before turning back into the pony with a flash of green light, “Enjoy your meal.” ______________________________________________________________________________
(six days later)
With the arrival of Kyne, Zephrine, and another pair that Gilda only knew by look from their mission to track down Fulton, more griffons were able to watch from more of the bugs. They had arrived a few days behind, as eight griffons arriving at the same time might appear quite odd, two groups of four on the other hand was more subtle.
After a quick rundown of the situation, the group of eight got to work on finding a flaw in the shield. They had about another week before it was too late and although it was plenty of time, it was getting their hopes down. ______________________________________________________________________________
Ales watched through the high power telescope that sat just inside the room. The shield was about to receive its bidaily recasting, she didn’t know what she was looking for, but they were running out of time and anything was better than nothing.
She glanced at a clipboard that was tacked to the wall, noting the time that the shield bearer recast the shield spell. It was quickly observed that the shield bearer followed a strict schedule, recasting the shield spell at a specific time every two days. They hadn’t been able to observe closely the first or second time, but today Ales was watching closely.
The pinkish shield disappeared for a quick moment before reappearing and expanding slightly. Ales quickly jotted down notes, she observed for a short time more before turning to Huntley.
“Many things reappear in both good times and bad, such is the will of fate.” ~Anonymous ______________________________________________________________________________
“For a very short period of time, the shield is inactive. This occurs as the old shield goes down and a new one is recast. The window of opportunity is small, but it’s enough for something fast to get in,” Ales explained to the changeling and through him, his queen, “Granted, it’s dangerous, one little slip up and you end up going splat against the shield, but it appears to be the only flaw.”
“What’s the window of opportunity?” The changeling asked after a moment’s pause.
Ales opened her beak, but then looked to Huntley, who replied, “Almost two seconds, one point seven to be exact. If your queen were to be accelerating at the shield at the right speed and time, then she’d be able to make it through.”
The changeling wore a mildly suspicious look, but reported to his queen all the same as he appeared to daydream momentarily, “What are the exact numbers on her speed and the time?”
“I’d need your queen’s body length and her weight to determine that,” Huntley said.
The changeling nodded and went into daydream mode again for a while. Bored, Ales began to wonder how the others were doing, she knew that Kyne and Gilda’s pairs were out in the town and the fourth squad was in the other room, keeping a vigilant eye on the bugs. Huntley and her had been left to deal with the changeling, which turned out to be quite a boring task. ______________________________________________________________________________
Gilda brought the camera up to her face again and snapped another picture, looking like any average griffon tourist. The only real difference was that she was snapping shots of the different guard’s areas and, of course, she wasn’t a tourist.
“I can’t believe this!” Clive said with annoyance. Gilda spared him a glance, noting that he was glaring at the menu in his hands, “Everything’s vegetarian! Where the hell can I get a good old fish steak?”
“Earth to dumbass,” Kyne, who shared the same table with Gilda, Clive, and Zephrine, began, “We’re in Canterlot, capital of Equestria, the land of half-wit herbivore ponies,” he kept his voice down so as not to get any looks from others in the outside dining area.
“What, so they can’t serve other creatures?” Clive shot back.
“We’re omnivorous, Clive,” Zephrine cut in, trying to make sure the two males didn’t cause a scene, “suck it up and just eat some leaves, maybe their breakfast menu is still up, order some eggs.”
“They’re soy eggs, fake, synthetic, shit! Whatever the hell you want to call it,” Clive paused, noting another section on the menu, “At least they have alcohol.”
Gilda snapped another picture of two guards chatting, the seventeen times lens on her camera helping greatly from the distance from the castle that they were, “You can have one glass, Clive, I don’t want you drunk in the middle of this mission.”
“So can your queen pull it off?” Huntley finally asked.
The changeling nodded, “She can.”
“Good, is that all that she’ll need of us?”
“Our queen would like some help getting rid of the real bride. All you’ll need to do is incapacitate her so our queen can send her to the old mine shaft under Canterlot castle. Our queen is strong, but it would make our job easier if Princess Cadence couldn’t fight back,” The changeling explained.
“Incapacitate? Why not just kill?” Ales asked.
“Our queen wants as many ponies possible for us to feed off of. After she takes Canterlot, pairing her back with Captain Shining Armor should create even more love for us to take. Cadence is no real threat and neither are any others that may stand in her way.”
“Any particular way that you’d like it done?” Huntley asked.
“Well what’s on the figurative menu?” the changeling replied.
“We could slip her some tranquilizer in her food or drink, maybe break into the castle and get her while she sleeps,” to both of these, the changeling considered and shook his head.
“Given the right location, we might be able to get her with a long range shot with one of the Arcumsires. We’ve got two long range ones,” Ales suggested.
The changeling shook his head again, “I said incapacitate, not kill.”
“If we use smaller, lighter bolts and tip them with the tranquilizer we’d be able to put one in her without killing her,” Ales replied.
“Hm,” the changeling said appreciatively, “What are the restrictions?”
“We’d need it to be a night operation, outside,” Ales ran a quick calculation in her head, “lightweight bolts lose lethality at...”
“Seven,” Huntley put in.
Ales nodded to her elder partner as way of thanks, “We’d need to be anywhere from seven hundred to nine hundred yards from the target.”
The changeling relayed the information to his queen and was silent for a minute before speaking again, “The queen can lure Cadence to a part of the sculpture garden, there is a small area above the mines there. Will that do?”
Huntley went over to the map and studied the distances, “We’ve got one building that’s eight hundred from the center of the sculpture center of the gardens.”
“Which one?” the changeling asked, trotting over to the, standing across from Huntley.
Huntley pointed a talon at a particular dark square on the map, “Top Notch Spelunking company headquarters. Top of the building should be the ideal spot for a sniper roost.”
“Good, I’ll be there. The queen will relay to me when to fire and I’ll let you know.” ______________________________________________________________________________
(Two days later)
The arrival of the queen went off without a hitch. She took the form of a pegasus and got through before disappearing into the crowds. Hours later, Huntley and Ales donned darksuits and took to the skies, two long barreled Arcumsires with scopes accompanying them.
They landed on the designated building and were soon met by the changeling, who shifted to his normal form from a pegasus.
“You’re quite early,” he commented.
“We’re shooting from eight hundred yards, that’s not as easy as it sounds,” Ales said, she had her loaded Arcumsire resting on the ledge of the building, pointing off towards Canterlot castle, “Since we have to go non-lethal that means smaller bolts. Smaller bolts are lighter so they don’t drop as fast, but the crosswind fucks with them a lot more.”
“Intriguing,” the changeling commented, moving up next to the griffon and eyeing the rather large weapon.
“More annoying,” Ales snorted, “Takes a minute to load these things so we’ve only got one shot, well two if you count Huntley, so missing is not an option.”
“How do these things work, anyways?” The changeling asked.
Ales looked at him with an odd expression, after a moment it changed as she realized that the creature had likely never heard of projectile weapons outside of spears, “It’s pretty simple,” she began, “The bowstring attaches to a catapult mechanism inside the barrel. The bolt rests against this mechanism and when it’s released, the bolt is shot forwards at a high velocity,” she explained, “Why do you ask? You need digits to pull the trigger, hooves don’t work.” The changeling smirked and flashed green before he copied Ales and then quickly shifted back to his regular form, “Oh, yeah,” Ales said.
“Simple curiosity, really,” the changeling explained, “The ability to pull a trigger and kill something far away is an ability that many would give a limb or wing for.”
“Give us a four second warning,” Huntley commented, looking down the scope of his own weapon, “These bolts have a velocity of a thousand feet per second. It’ll take two and a half seconds for our bolts to get there, so make sure we’re well aware in advance of when to fire.”
“Okay,” the changeling said. ______________________________________________________________________________
“What is it?” Cadence asked.
Shining Armor looked around him with suspicion, “Not here, the walls have ears, follow me and be quick about it.”
Shining Armor trotted off, his bride-to-be in tow as he made his way towards the castle gardens outside.
“Is...is it the changelings?” Cadence asked once they were outside, Shining Armor flinched at the word changeling and Cadence immediately knew that that was what it was, “Have they broken through? What is it? Tell me.”
Chrysalis sent a mental shout towards the changeling on the building. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Okay, fire,” the changeling said.
Ales and Huntley pulled the triggers, both Arcumsires making a click-snap noise as the triggers were pulled and the catapult mechanism came to a halt at the end of the barrel railing.
The two small bolts whizzed off into the dark night air, too fast for the eye to follow. ______________________________________________________________________________
“They’re here,” Chrysalis said, letting a smile crease Shining Armor’s face and her voice flow forth.
Cadence took a step back, “Shining...” she was cut off when there was a quiet thwack of bolt on hide and Cadence collapsed with a single small bolt sticking out of her shoulder.
Chrysalis looked around to make sure nopony was watching before she lit a green fire around Cadence’s unconscious form and sent her down into the depths of the mine below Canterlot.
Chrysalis herself burst into green flame before emerging as Princess Cadence. She looked over herself before smiling.
“Too easy,” Chrysalis said, copying Cadence perfectly. She smiled evilly to herself as she began her trot back to the castle. The changeling queen had a wedding to crash, and an equinian empire to overthrow. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Good effect on target, one of you hit her in the shoulder,” The changeling reported.
“Fuck, if she hadn’t moved at the last second it’d have hit her in the thick of her back leg, where’s the other bolt?” Ales questioned, already packing up the small amount of gear she had.
The changeling shrugged, “It doesn’t matter, Cadence is out of the way. The Changeling Empire thanks you for your service and wishes that we may again work together in the future,” the changeling said, putting on a flair to his voice.
Huntley nodded, “Likewise, good luck with the takeover.”
“Thanks, but I doubt that we’ll need it,” the changeling said with a toothy smile. He saluted, changed into a pegasus, and was off again. ______________________________________________________________________________
The two griffons stuffed their darksuits and Arcumsires into their respective hiding spots before heading into the hotel.
“Well, we’re finally done here. Maybe the guys back home have more news on Fulton and we can finally go after that flying fuck,” Ales said as the elevator carried them up.
“Indeed,” Huntley said.
With a ding, the elevator doors opened and the two griffons made their way to their shared room.
When she opened the door, Ales was surprised to see Clive sitting in front of her telescope, one eye glued to the eyepiece. He threw a quick glance back at Ales and Huntley, saying, “Hey,” as way of greeting.
“Stargazing?” Ales questioned before she noticed Gilda, Kyne, and Zephrine at the table with the map, all looking over it.
“Somegriffon throw a party in this room and not invite us?” Huntley stated.
“Ah, you two are back, come here,” Kyne said, gesturing the two newcomers over.
From his voice, Ales knew something had happened, “What’s going on?”
“Clive was being a doofus as usual with the telescope,” Gilda began to explain, “Guess who happened to get the spotlight?” Gilda pushed a single picture forwards, “Pure fuckin luck that we got this.”
Ales looked at the photograph, which had been shot through the telescope, and gasped. She muttered a single word, “Fulton.”
“Looks like with this reappearance, we’re going to have to pay for a few more days stay here in Canterlot,” Huntley observed.
“Here comes the bride, All fat and wide. Where is the groom? He’s in the bathroom. Why is he there? He lost his underwear...” ~Portion of a mildly inappropriate children’s rhyme ______________________________________________________________________________
(One week later)
“I still don’t see why we just sneak in and take that stupid bastard,” Clive commented, looking over the blueprints of the building Fulton had disappeared into a week ago.
“Fulton may not be able to adapt to survive, but he rarely needs to,” Huntley said, “From what I’ve read, he’s a master at planning things through and then seeing them through.”
“And,” Ales added, “He probably knows that we’re here. It’s not like we snuck into Canterlot; we just walked in and got a hotel room. If he knows that we’re here, then he’s taken measures to ensure that we can’t get into this building,” Ales tapped a talon on the blueprints, “or at least get in without making any noise.”
Huntley nodded solemnly, “Besides, he can’t have planned for the invasion, we might be able to use that to our advantage.”
“Fine,” Clive said poutily.
There was a knock at the door and Gilda moved over to it to see who was there. She looked through the eye-hole and opened it to let Kyne and Zephrine in.
“Well, the blueprints aren’t up to date,” Zephrine said, “All potential entry points on that,” she pointed to the blueprints on the table, “Are either blocked off entirely or covered in enough locks and countermeasures that they’re worthless. No real chance of us getting in there nice and easy.”
“No way to see in, either,” Kyne added.
“So we’re going to have to barge in blind?” Ales observed.
“Unless we can find a flaw, then yes,” Huntley said as Kyne and Zephrine joined the others around the table, “But we have the element of surprise on our paws with the invasion.”
“And how are we going to even use that?” Kyne asked with a hint of snottiness.
“When the invasion commences, all hell will break loose. It will be the mother-of-all distractions. When that occurs, we break open the door and give them hell,” Ales explained.
“No, we’re pretty sure that the door’s bugged or trapped, we aren’t sure what will happen if we blast it open,” Zephrine said.
“Same with the roof, if we’re bustin in, then it’s through one of the walls,” Kyne added, “Looks like it was a good idea to requisition some plastics.”
Huntley nodded, “Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. Are there any particular walls that you think would be the best to knock in?”
“Yes,” Kyne said, leaning closer to the blueprints, “The southern one, second floor level. It seemed to be the sturdiest, so they wouldn’t expect us to blow that one in.”
Huntley nodded again, “Very well. So the two of you will give sniper support, we’ll take front line, Gilda and Clive will be behind us. Backup will be waiting in the club across the street.”
“Why are we giving them SHTF duty? They’ve been Red Paw for longer than the rest of you,” Kyne said.
“Because Huntley’s a veteran and Gilda’s been in the Red Paw longer than both you and them,” Ales defended.
“Even though she got kicked out,” Kyne muttered.
“Clive and I are back, aren’t we?” Gilda shot back.
“If we continue on this line of rant, I’m going to report the lot of you for incompetence and send you back to boot camp. No more of this petty bullshit, got it?” Huntley grumbled, an edge of menace and anger chilling his voice.
In this case, the silence that followed meant, “Yes.”
After glaring coldly at the others a while longer, Huntley finally spoke again, “We’ve all got things to do, so lets do them, okay? We’ve got a wedding to plan for.” ______________________________________________________________________________
(Day of the wedding)
“...So everygriffon knows the plan?” Huntley asked, looking around the room at the seven other griffons, all of whom gave an affirmative in one way or another, “Good, may the wind guide us at our backs,” Huntley folded the map and the group headed out. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Would ya look at that,” Ales commented, looking towards the sky. The others spared the direction a quick look, seeing all the small black specks that lay just outside the shield.
“Hopefully not much longer until that shield falls,” Huntley said, “how are those holes going,” he shot over his shoulder.
Gilda and Clive were at the wall, Clive frantically using a manual drill to make holes in the walls while Gilda stood ready with a few small grey cylinders.
“Going as fast as we can, give us two more minutes to get the holes and another two to ready the plastics,” Gilda said.
Two minutes passed and Clive was finally done with the drill. He and Gilda began sliding the putty-like grey cylinders into the holes in the wall. By the time they were done, the wall had taken on a series of greyish acne. The two griffons then began applying small red dots to each of the ends of the grey cylinders, making sure they weren’t too rough with the primers. Once the primers were set, they were ready.
“Okay, set to go,” Clive said.
“Ten seconds after the shield falls,” Ales stated.
“Got it, how are the streets looking?” Gilda asked.
“A lonely walker every now and then, but none are looking into the alleyway, they’ve got their eyes to the sky and an ‘I’m about to shit myself’ look on their faces.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Clive commented, he looked up to the skies and noticed cracks in the force field, “Hey...are those cracks?”
As if on cue, the shield shattered into a thousand pieces.
“Ten seconds!” Huntley and the others counted in their heads as Changelings swarmed down to attack ponies. A few of them looked as if to swoop down upon the griffons, but quickly saw that they weren’t ponies and moved on.
“Go!”
“Fire in the hole, mother fuckers!” Clive yelled with a smile. He and Gilda threw punches at the wall and the small red primers started to go off, popping like a series of firecrackers and starting a chain reaction in the ‘plastic’ cylinders. While the griffons didn’t possess explosives on the level of composition four or trinitrotoluene, they did have what was commonly known as simply ‘plastic.’ When set off, the substance began to expand with extreme force. Force enough to easily tear a creature in half or, in this case, utterly destroy a wall.
As ‘front line’, Ales and Huntley had donned heavy armor. Once it had done its job, Huntley kicked in the grey blob that had taken place of the wall and chased after it with Ales on his tail. The grey blob fell inwards, letting the four griffons past with ease. Gilda and Clive took to the air, while the other two stuck to the ground.
Almost every creature was staring at the doorway on the opposite side of the building, weapons pointed towards it. The only two who weren’t had been patrolling down this side of the building. A pegasus hovered dumbly, staring at Huntley as he brought his short barreled Arcumsire to bear and put a bolt into the equine’s chest.
To Huntley’s left, Ales dealt similarly with a griffon who was fumbling with his own Arcumsire.
Gilda and Clive hovered over the edge of the balcony, searching for Fulton below. The second floor, which was more of a balcony that ran around the building, only held a few guards while the first floor was completely bare, aside from a table and some guards.
Luckily for the invaders, Ales and Huntley were able to get all the guards on the second floor, the pounding that came from the front door seemed to keep all eyes peeled towards it.
“I don’t see Fulton,” Clive commented with annoyance, scanning the bottom floor.
“Fine then, we eliminate every bastard in this building and search it top to bottom, there’s no way he escaped while we were en route,” Huntley said, “Use the tranquilizers you have loaded and then switch to lethal, we can see if there’s any information to be gathered from the guards.”
With that, the griffons engaged the mass of guards by the door. This group held a closer proximity and quickly realized that they were being attacked. Only two of the guards remained alive after receiving fire, being the two to receive tranquilizer darts from Gilda and Clive.
The mass of multiple equines and griffons turned and spotted the four griffons taking cover behind pillars on the opposite side of the room.
When the guards began to return fire in the form of griffon’s Arcumsires, unicorn magic, and some slings and blowguns that a few zebras held, Gilda and Clive ducked behind cover. Ales and Huntley, on the other hand, were protected by their armor and stayed to continue returning fire.
“If any of those bastards try to get up close and personal, take them out,” Ales said to Gilda and Clive, “We’ll focus on killing the ones at long range.”
The two unarmored griffons nodded.
It was at that moment that the unguarded door blasted open and a small swarm of Changelings burst in. The majority of the group simply continued onwards, tackling the equines while a few others looked over the scene before diving in.
“Push forward! Go for the rest of the griffons!” Huntley called out over the buzzing of wings and cries of ponies. Gilda and Clive shot from cover while the armored griffons hopped over the balcony and used their wings to slow their fall before rushing forwards.
Gilda and Clive quickly put down the rest of the griffon guards and a changeling stepped from the others, who were busy securing their equinian prey.
“Nice to see familiar faces,” the changeling said with a fanged smile.
“Room service?” Clive asked.
“What? You can’t tell us apart?” The changeling asked.
“No, mind if we borrow some of your prisoners for a bit?” Clive asked as Ales and Huntley finally caught up.
The changeling raised an eyebrow, “Why?”
“Gilda, Clive, Ales, look for Fulton, I’ll deal with our friend here,” Huntley said to his fellows before turning to the changeling in question, “We’re looking for a traitor. We know he’s in this building, but we don’t know where. If we could just rough up a few of your prisoners then that might get us the information we need,” he explained while the other griffons combed the room.
The changeling thought for a moment, “Hmm, fine, but no killing, we can’t drain love if there’s none to drain,” he turned to some of his fellows, who were giving him and the griffon questioning looks, “Bring one of the ponies forward,” he ordered.
“Huntley!” Ales called from a corner of the room, “Found a tunnel!”
“Nevermind, I suppose,” Huntley said to the changeling, “Hunt well, and often!” he turned and headed towards Ales and the others, who were now gathered around a tunnel entrance in the floor.
The changeling smiled again, “We sha...” a massive pinkish blast cut him off, sending him and the other changelings smashing into the wall.
Huntley stopped, looking back as some of the changelings got to their hooves, disorientated, “What the fuck was...” he was cut off again as a series of royal guardsponies ran into the building, wielding spears and magic, “Shit!” Huntley yelled, bolting towards the others.
“You! Stop!” A pony yelled out.
“Prepare some plastics! Get in there now!” Huntley yelled out, a blast of magic hit him in the side, but his armor held.
“Stop!”
Huntley dove in after Ales, “Make a door!” he yelled out. Something flew over his shoulder as he charged into the dark tunnel, his feet splashing through something, he looked over his shoulder to see a grey wad quickly fill up the tunnel behind him, effectively making a barrier between him and anyone who entered.
“What the fuck just happened!” Clive yelled, “What was that?”
“I’m not sure,” Huntley said, catching his breath, “But I’ll bet it had something to do with that damn wedding.”
“Failure leads to success.” ~Unknown ______________________________________________________________________________
All four griffons had things to say and ask, but all remained silent. It was obvious from the start that this was one of the main sewer pipes and that someone had turned it into an impromptu escape tunnel. That said, the acoustics would make sure that anything could hear them from a mile away, this prompted the group to remain silent.
The four griffons had donned low-light goggles and were making good progress away from their starting point. For now, the goal was to escape and evade authorities and find a way back to the surface. The ponies were sure to have spotted the fact that the group were griffons and possibly tracked down their room, maybe even one of the other two pairs.
After about thirty minutes of travel, making the occasional right or left turn, Clive tapped Huntley, who was leading, on the side.
“Where are we going?” he asked with hand gestures.
“Escape and evade until later,” Huntley replied similarly, “Then the safe house.”
“Later?”
“Till it gets darker,” Huntley replied before turning and beginning on his way again.
Clive grumbled, annoyed that they would be here for a while but knowledgeable on why. ______________________________________________________________________________
(Nightfall)
In a less populated area of Canterlot, a sewer cover lifted slightly above the ground for a moment before a set of talons slipped out and slid the cover off the opening. A group of griffons, two clad in armor and all smelling of sewage, got out and shot into cover to get their bearings.
“Fuck, it is good to get out of that sewer!” Clive said, taking a deep inhale of the fresh outside air.
“Yes,” Huntley agreed, “Now let’s get to the safehouse,” The elder griffon looked around with the others as the group tried to get their bearings.
After noting the position of the slowly falling sun, they were able to judge the four compass points. From here, they tried to spot different landmarks.
“Well there’s that Top Notch Spelunking company building,” Ales pointed out, “Based on its location compared to Canterlot Castle, I’d say we were in the Northwestern quadrant of Canterlot.”
“Which means the safehouse is on the other side of town, damnit,” Huntley said, “With that invasion settling down, I’d guess that security is going to be high as Cloudsdale,” he pondered a moment, “Gilda, Clive, you two know where the safehouse is, right?”
The two nodded.
“I think we should split up and head there separately. If we get caught, the less of us out of the game the better. You two head out first, we’ll hide the heavy armor and be there ASAP. Good luck.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Gilda pressed her back into the side of the building as tightly as she could, hardly breathing as two ponies trotted past the opening to the alleyway.
She gave a silent breath of relief and peeked around the corner.
“Clear front,” she whispered, ducking back into cover.
“Clear back,” Clive said from behind her.
The two griffons, sticking to the shadows like their lives depended on it (and they probably did), continued on their way. They had originally thought about flying, but a few pegasus guards that had almost noticed them had shot down that idea.
Now the two were sneaking down the streets, skirting the light from lamp posts and still open stores to get to the safehouse.
Under normal circumstances, their hearts wouldn’t be pounding so loud in their chests, but normal circumstances included darksuits and they had none. Their only form of defense was their weapons and the darkness of night, which wasn’t uniform due to the lights of the city.
It took them an hour of heart-pounding travel to finally get to an nondescript little gardening shack in the Northeastern quadrant of Canterlot.
The shed was unlocked and the two griffons stepped quickly inside, their heart rates finally beginning to slow down.
“That was certainly fun,” Clive said, a stupid grin forming slowly on his face.
Gilda rolled her eyes and moved to a corner of the shed. She drew her knife and inserted it into a small groove in the floor. Using the knife as a handle of sorts, she pulled open the trapdoor that led to the safehouse.
Clive quickly followed her and she let the trapdoor close. There was no light, which meant that their low-light goggles wouldn’t work, as they required at least some light to function.
She and Clive removed their goggles and started down the stairs, “It’s us, anygriffon down there?”
The silence that returned her call was shortly followed by a blast of light, which caused both griffons to cover their eyes, squinting as their pupils shrunk to compensate.
“Shit,” Gilda knew that it was Kyne from the voice, “There’s a shit-ton of explaining that needs to be done.”
“Where’s Ales and Huntley?”
The two griffons were finally able to uncover their eyes to see Kyne and Zephrine standing at the bottom of the stairs, both holding Arcumsires.
“They should be here shortly, we split up to lessen the chance of all of us getting caught,” Gilda explained as she and Clive made it the rest of the way down.
The interior of the safehouse had been dug out, the walls, floor, and ceiling were all covered in simple cement. There was a single table in the center, a weapons and armor rack along one wall, a shelf with preserved and non-spoiling foods, and a series of sleeping bags rolled up in another corner. Two had been placed out already.
“Where’s the other pair?” Gilda asked.
“Ponies got them,” Zephrine stated, “After that...shockwave took out all the Changelings, they left the restaurant and for some reason the ponies called after them. They ran, but got tackled pretty quick. I don’t even know why, they didn’t do anything.”
“And what the hell happened to you guys?” Kyne asked, “You smell like shit.”
Gilda opened her mouth to reply, but the light died. That meant that someone had entered the shack above.
Kyne and Zephrine had been wearing thermal goggles and quickly got to the stairs, Arcumsires ready.
“It’s us, Anygriffon down there?” Ales called down.
Gilda and Clive breathed sighs of relief, they had made it. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Our next plan of action should be getting out of Canterlot, obviously at night. We can hole up here for a few days, grab the darksuits from their hiding spots near the hotel, and get out,” Huntley said, tapping the map to make his point.
“No. Screw that, where the hell are we going to go?” Clive asked.
“I second that,” Gilda put in, “We blew our cover and all that shit in the hotel room points directly to our involvement with the Changelings. We go back to the Kingdoms, we’re going to be arrested as terrorists, working out of accord with the government!”
“Shut-up for a moment!” Huntley growled, showing a rare emotion again, “I didn’t say that we were going back to the Kingdoms, Standard Operating Procedure dictates that we’re now terrorists. We need to get out of Canterlot because guess who else knows where this safehouse is?”
Silence hung in the air as what Huntley was implying sunk in. The safehouse would be as safe as cardboard armor against a dragon if the Griffon Kingdoms decided to come after them.
“We get the hell out of Canterlot, make a new safehouse, and plan our next course of action from there,” Huntley explained, “We sleep in shifts, two pairs sleep while one guards. I am not taking any chances. Ales and I will take first watch, the rest of you get some rest.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Gilda was grateful when she was awoken for her and Clive’s shift, her dreams were not being kind to her.
The two sat in silence, Arcumsires in paws, for a while before Clive broke the silence.
“So...how are you taking all this?” He asked.
Gilda took a short time to think before replying, “I’m fifty-fifty split on whether or not to follow Huntley and the others or turn myself in. One final service to the Kingdoms before they either lock me up or execute me.”
“C’mon, Gilda, please don’t get all martyr on me.”
Gilda blinked once, “I’m not sure that’s the proper terminology of martyr. I’d use more of a term like ‘loyal.’ I’m loyal to the Kingdoms and I failed them. Therefore, in a way, I failed myself. Besides, it would make the Kingdoms look better in the eyes of the ponies if they caught one of the ‘terrorists’ so soon, might make the ponies let their guards down enough to thrust a knife in.”
“How do you know that’ll make a difference?” Clive asked, “Stay with us, don’t go and make stupid sacrifices. His majesty is going to kill you if you return...wait, if you return won’t that just look like a fake-out or something?”
“No, I was planning on letting them catch me, make it look like they legitimately did something.”
“Oh...but getting back on track, please don’t go.”
“What is there for me here?” Gilda snapped, suddenly getting angry, “What are we going to do? Run for the rest of our lives? We aren’t safe in Equestria or any of the other equinian countries, we aren’t safe in the Griffon Kingdoms. Where are we going to go? What are we going to do?”
Clive winced at her harsher tone, glancing over at the four sleeping figures at the other end of the room, “Gilda, calm down, you’re going to wake the others. I know that Kyne won’t take getting awakened early very we...”
“Fuck, Kyne. There’s another reason not to go, I’d have to put up with that douche.”
“Gilda,” Clive grumbled to himself, her anger rubbing off on him, “We could split up after we get to the safehouse, we wouldn’t need to put up with his shit.”
“We?” Gilda asked bitterly, raising an eyebrow, “Who ever said that I wanted to live on the run with you at my side?”
Clive started to retort when those words sunk in and he froze, beak open and a talon raised to make a point.
“After...everything, you would just...” Clive said after a bout of silence, hand lowering and beak shutting, eyes moving away from his partner, “After e-everything that we went through...you would just, just...” Had he been more of an emotional griffon, Clive might’ve gotten teary-eyed, “Leave?”
Now it was Gilda’s turn to pause as her own words sunk in, she let out a breath, “Clive...no, that was a stupid thing to say. All this shit is getting to me, I shouldn’t have said that. I thought that I got in better control of my emotions after that stupid mess-up in Ponyville,” Gilda had taken to looking at the ground, but suddenly perked up, “Wait a minute...”
From the look on her face, Clive knew that she was in deep thought.
“Clive.”
“Yes?”
“We came here to help the queen get through and take over Equestria, yes?” Gilda asked, her mind working quickly as a plan formed.
“Uh, yes?” Clive asked, not sure what Gilda was getting at.
“But we were originally coming here for what?” A sly smile crossed her features.
“To capture the...” realization slid across Clive’s face, “...holy shit, they’re still here!”
Gilda nodded, moving over to the table and map in the middle of the room, “We failed to capture Canterlot, we failed to get Fulton, but if we capture the Elements of Harmony and get them to the Kingdoms...”
“...We might just have a chance of turning this whole thing around!” Clive finished.
Gilda chuckled, “Who ever said that failure doesn’t lead to success?”
The others listened quietly while Gilda explained. Only when she was done did Huntley speak.
“That might just work. Better, even, than you could imagine,” the elder griffon began, “We make it look like a ponynapping and implement the changelings. The Equestrians will drop everything and go after the changelings, trying to get their Elements back. The Equestrians turn their backs on the Kingdoms, allowing us to slip in and stab them right in the back without them ever noticing. If we can find a way to break the Elements back in the Kingdoms, we might even be able to use them as a weapon.”
“Okay, first question,” Kyne said, “How in hell are we supposed to capture them with Canterlot on high alert?” He crossed his paws, obviously not on board with the plan at all.
“We get them while they’re on the train. Somewhere between Canterlot and Ponyville, we stop the train, ponynap the ponies, and get out of there.”
“Somepony on the train will see that we aren’t changelings and...”
“We kill everything on the train,” Huntley cut in, “Everything besides the six ponies of course.”
“And of course we have a way to render the magic of the two unicorns useless, right? A way to prevent the two pegasi from flying away?” Zephrine asked, not to point out flaws, but to make certain.
“Anti-magic yokes, we steal four from the Royal Guard. We should have enough plastics to stop the train in its tracks. In layman’s terms, here’s the plan: four of us get aboard, start moving up, killing anything that gets in our way, find our six elemental bearers, stop the train, execute all other witnesses, and high tail it out of there.”
“And we’re just going to leave the other Red Paw pair here, with the ponies?” Kyne asked.
“Sadly, yes. There’s nothing we can do for them.”
“And how are we going to blame the changelings for this little ponynapping?” Zephrine asked, “I was thinking that a little visit to the prisons might be a good idea.”
“What?”
“Kyne and I didn’t immediately ditch our roost, we saw some of those ponies who came in come out with some changeling prisoners. It appears that whatever that big blast was, it didn’t eject the changelings who happened to be inside buildings. I have an idea...” ______________________________________________________________________________
“So...” the changeling threw another glance towards the sleeping guard, “...You want me to send a message to our queen. She gives unreasonable demands for the freedom of the six bearers of harmony, who you have captured.”
“Unreasonable demands, or anything to keep the equestrians focused on her being the one who pulled this off but at the same time not be willing to trade. With the equestrians preoccupied, the griffons can find a way to take Equestria. Same deal as before concerning land,” an invisible Zephrine said, “Can you get the message out with that yoke on?”
The changeling touched the large metal yoke around his neck, “No, but the guard has a key. Get this stupid thing off and I’ll get that message out.”
Zephrine nodded, then remembered that she was invisible, “Right.”
She moved over to the guard, got the key, and went right back to the cell to unlock the yoke on the changeling’s neck.
“Tell her to do it in one week, we'll have the ponies by then.”
The changeling nodded and sent the message.
“No questions from her, just have her do it, okay?” Zephrine asked.
“Okay,” the changeling’s eyes refocused on where he assumed Zephrine was, “I guess I have to put this damn thing on again.”
Zephrine nodded, facepawed, and replied, “Yes.”
The changeling, annoyedly, complied, slipping the enchanted yoke back over his neck and locking it before hoofing the key back to Zephrine, who quickly made her escape. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Good news,” Huntley said as Zephrine and Kyne slipped out of their darksuits, four more yokes added to their collection of supplies, “The elementals are taking a train tomorrow, we still don’t know why they stayed longer than the rest of their ponyvillian friends, but they’re finally leaving. Tomorrow at fifteen hundred hours.”
“That doesn’t give us a lot of time to prepare,” Kyne pointed out.
“I know, we leave now,” Huntley looked up from his map, “The night is still young, we need to find a spot midway between Canterlot and Ponyville and set up. Get some darksuit mark ones on, we leave now.” ______________________________________________________________________________
“I would like to thank you all again for staying a while longer to help with cleaning up the damage,” Celestia said, seeing her six little Elemental Bearers off.
“It was our pleasure, Princess,” Twilight replied, her friends confirming this with nods, “I just hope that we’ve seen the last of Chrysalis.”
“Indeed,” Celestia said with a smile, her thoughts wondering if the Griffon King had seen fit to reply to her letter yet. If the Griffons had been in on this, helped with it even, then Celestia was afraid that dark times were ahead.
“I suppose we’ll be off then,” Twilight said.
After parting a few more farewells, the six ponies and one dragon entered the train car to take them home. Yet whether or not home would be their actual destination was only known by the gods...and the author.
In fact, in all reality, the author IS the god since he can do whatever he wants. He has all the power at the tips of his fingers! But enough of this blasphemous fourth wall crap, on with the story! ______________________________________________________________________________
Zephrine looked away from the scope on her Arcumsire, “They’re on their way.”
“Okay, griffons,” Huntley said, “Get ready, train’ll be here in a matter of hours! We have no time to waste!” ______________________________________________________________________________
(That night)
The griffons landed with bumps atop the train, Gilda winced at the noise, praying that it went unnoticed in the dead of night. She strained against the rushing wind, slowly sliding back and eventually hopping down into the small ‘porch’ at the tail end of the caboose. Clive, Huntley, and Ales closely followed.
Gilda peeked in, seeing that the caboose served as a sort of bathroom car. It was unoccupied and the four griffons slipped in.
Due to the fact that they were trying to imitate changelings, using knives and Arcumsires was out of the question. They still brought Arcumsires along, but would only use those if all else failed. Each was armed with brass shoes, heavy metallic horseshoe overlays that made punching and bucking a lot more deadly. They had been forced to make a few adjustments to the darksuit, removing the culernus blades being part, but it had worked.
Gilda gently opened the door between the first two cars and slipped inside with Clive, the other two holding back.
This car had a central hallway and a series of double bunks along the sides. Moonlight would have spilled in through the windows, but they were closed off with curtains to let the sleepers sleep.
Gilda waved back at the glass set in the door between the two cars, Ales and Huntley followed through.
The griffons knew that the six elemental bearers were in one of the cars further up, so Gilda and Clive moved on to let the other two deal with the sleepers.
They were running on a time limit here. When the train got to a certain point, Kyne and Zephrine would set off the plastics and stop the train in its tracks. The griffons had roughly judged that this would occur once they were in the car with the Elements of Harmony if everything went according to plan, giving or taking a minute or two for good measure.
The next car was another sleeping area and so was the one after that. The fourth car, however, appeared to be a lounge. This was where the griffon’s problems began. The ponies in this one were awake.
One was laying down and reading while three others were engaged in a card game of sorts.
The only pony facing them was one of the ones at the table, but she was too focused on her cards. Even if they had been looking, it wasn’t guaranteed that they would have seen the griffons in their darksuits. That, and most of them looked tired, if not half asleep.
“We might have to go loud,” Gilda gestured.
Clive nodded in agreement.
They assessed the threats before them. The pony reading was a unicorn and would probably be the most deadly. One of the card players was an earth pony while the other two were pegasi. All looked tired to some degree and none were armed. With Ales and Huntley they could probably take the whole of them in at least a minute. The noise levels would probably be drowned out to non-issue levels by the door and the sound of the train.
Once the other two griffons were finished taking care of the ponies in the previous car, they entered this one and chose targets. Huntley would take the reading unicorn, the others had one of the card players.
Without further ado, they attacked.
Huntley sprinted up behind his target, leaped on him and snapped his head back. The unicorn went limp with a snap of neck vertebrae. He never knew what hit him.
It was about this time that the other griffons were spotted and shortly thereafter attacked their own targets. Ales leaped high and came down on the earth pony facing the rear end of the car, knocking her breathe out before delivering a stunning blow and snapping her neck.
Clive swung his weighted paw and hit his target in the throat, crushing his windpipe and knocking him over backwards with his chair. He finished the job with a few jabs to the head and throat.
Gilda, getting the pegasus facing the opposite side of the car, got behind her target and quickly and cleanly snapped his neck. It was over in just under forty seconds.
The four griffons each confirmed their kills and gave the all clear. Then the door opened and a scaly purple dragon walked in, only to freeze when he saw the carnage before him.
Huntley, who had removed one of his brass shoes, reached around and grabbed his Arcumsire, he aimed and fired. Spike’s figurative guardian angel had other ideas, though.
Spike snapped around in fear, the bolt just going over his shoulder and burying itself in the door. He grabbed the handle before getting struck by Clive, who knocked him away with a blow to the skull.
The blow would have knocked out or even killed a pony, but Spike’s scales made sure that all he got was a headache as he hit the side of the car. His head throbbed and he looked to his black clad attacker as the griffon came in for the kill.
Spike shot a blast of flame, it wasn’t large or powerful, but it was very bright and very much in Clive’s face.
Clive yelped in pain as his low-light goggles fed his eyes extreme amounts of lights. His swing at Spike slammed into a wall, missing its target.
“My eyes!” Clive cried out, stumbling away.
Ales was right behind Clive, shooting past him and taking a swing at the small dragon.
Spike hopped to his feet and leaned back, Ales’s paw just missing him. Spike leaped forward, yelled out and threw a slash at Ales. Unfortunately for him, he had trimmed his claws and the attack did nothing as Ales threw a punch to his gut. Spike doubled over, but latched on to the attacking appendage and bit down with all his might. He hadn’t trimmed his teeth and they went right through Ales’s armor.
She slammed Spike against the wall, trying to get him loose, but he didn’t budge, keeping his teeth firmly clamped down on Ales’s foreleg. She swung again, this time hitting one of the windows. The glass shattered and the force of the blow dislodged the baby dragon, who was sent screaming into the darkness outside.
“Fuck!” Ales groaned, clutching her bleeding appendage.
Huntley got to her side swiftly to assess her injury. It wasn’t fatal but it was bleeding rather profusely.
“Can we confirm that kill?” Gilda asked, pulling back her mask to speak properly.
“Nothing could survive getting thrown out of a train at these speeds,” Ales shot back, having pulled back her own mask as well, “Damn little bastard had sharp teeth.”
“What happened?” Asked Clive, who was blinking away the brightness.
“Ales sent that dragon out the window,” Gilda replied, “Your eyes okay?”
“Yeah,” Clive laughed, “She threw him out the window? I bet that looked ridiculous.”
“Go!” Huntley yelled through his mask, wrapping Ales’s foreleg in a bandage.
“Right!” The two griffons slid their masks back on and pushed through the door.
And Gilda came face to face with a certain pony she had had the pleasure of meeting a little more than a year ago.
“Hey Spike, what’s...wait, you aren’t Spike,” Pinkie said.
Grand Finale ______________________________________________________________________________
“All good things must come to an end.” ~Geoffrey Chaucer ______________________________________________________________________________
Pinkie Pie stood at the middle of what appeared to be the dining car. Gilda and Clive were at the door that led from the lounge car.
“Ooh, are you spies or something?” Pinkie asked cheerfully, “Oh, and have you seen my friend, Spike? He’s a purple baby drag...” Pinkie’s rant was ended with a brass shoe to the head from Gilda. Pinkie moaned pitifully from where she lay on the ground.
Gilda removed the two shoes from her front paws, pulled back her mask, and drew her Arcumsire.
“Whu...” Pinkie looked dizzily up, “G-Gilda?”
Gilda grabbed Pinkie by the throat and hoisted her up to eye level.
“That’s right, you stupid little bitch,” Gilda spat, she poked Pinkie in the ribs with the barrel of her Arcumsire.
“Gilda?” Clive asked cautiously, making sure she wasn’t planning on killing the pink mare.
“You almost got me killed, you dumb little shit,” Gilda continued, “Put your hoof up against the wall there,” she gave another poke.
“What?”
“Hoof against the wall, dumbass!” Gilda roared, beginning to get sick of Pinkie’s idiocracy.
“Like...this?” Pinkie asked, putting her left forehoof against the wall of the car.
“Yeah, stupid, like that,” Gilda shifted her aim and nailed Pinkie’s foreleg to the wall with her Arcumsire.
Pinkie gasped in shock, staring at the bolt sticking out of her foreleg. Gilda took a step back and threw a punch to Pinkie’s gut. Pinkie doubled over in even more pain. This time she cried out.
“How’s that feel, you dumb...” Gilda was knocked backwards, her air leaving her lungs and knocking Clive over behind her.
“What the hell is going on here!” Rainbow Dash yelled in Gilda’s face, “Who are y...Gilda?” Dash did a double take.
Gilda jabbed her Arcumsire’s barrel into Dash’s ribs, sending her back. Gilda hopped up and leveled her Arcumsire at the pegasus’s wing. She pressed the trigger, but then remembered that she had put the bolt into Pinkie’s leg.
“What...what...” Dash confusedly took in the scene, trying to make sense of it all, “What the fuck is going on?”
Gilda ignored the colorful pegasus’s talk and instead decided to attack, leaping forwards and swiping a paw at Dash’s head. Dash hopped back, but got a second swipe to the face. She hopped forwards, driving a hoof at her assailant. Gilda shrugged off the blow and tackled Dash back to the ground.
Dash drove her rear hooves into Gilda’s belly, sending her up and away, Dash scrambled to her hooves to prepare a counter maneuver. She never got the chance.
Gilda landed squarely on Dash’s back, driving her into the ground and knocking the breath out of her. She grabbed Dash by her mane and slammed her head into the ground, dazing the pegasus.
“You never were that good at martial arts,” Gilda taunted, “You think that you can even come close to what I can do?”
“Gilda, we’re running out of time,” Clive reminded.
“Right, do you have a tranquilizer?” And then they ran out of time.
The train was supposed to run head on into a wad of fully exploded plastic. Instead, the plastic erupted right under the lounge car.
The separator between the dining and lounge cars was torn away as the latter was pushed up into the air. At its speed, it was launched forwards and upwards before coming crashing down onto the ground and going into a roll. It tumbled off as the dining car began to tilt back and forth.
“What the fuck!” Clive yelled, looking behind him as the many cars began piling up, smashing together in one large metallic heap.
And then the dining car tipped over. Gilda was thrown away, her head colliding with the wall. Everything went black. ______________________________________________________________________________
Gilda awoke to pain. Her right foreleg pained her the most, followed closely by her head and then the rest of her.
She got to wobbly feet, stumbling in the process. She looked painfully at her arm, seeing it bent at an abnormal angle.
“F...uck,” she muttered.
There was a cough, “Gil-Gilda?”
Her head snapped up, immediately spinning and causing her to feel sick. She fought back the rising of her guts and looked to see Clive. He was laying on his back...with a large metal rod protruding from the right side of his chest. Blood dribbled down out of his beak.
“Shit...C-Clive!” She stumbled forwards.
“That f-fuckface, Kyne...blew the plastic too late,” Clive said, wincing again in pain.
“Damnit!” Gilda struck the ground, which happened to be the side of the knocked over dining car, “Damnit, damnit, damnit!”
“Gilda,” a new voice began, “What the hell is going on!?”
Gilda looked up to see Dash, a set of yards away, balancing on her two rear legs and aiming Clive’s loaded Arcumsire at her. It seemed to have survived the crash and was still fully functional, but that meant nothing if the user had no fingers or talons.
Gilda looked around and picked up her own Arcumsire, it wasn’t loaded, but she had a few unbroken bolts left. Gilda looked behind her but didn’t see anything but darkness. Had the rest of the train kept going? That didn’t matter, all that mattered was that she exact her revenge.
Gilda tried to pull the string back, but her right arm assailed her with pain and she fell to her knees. With two paws, the string was easy to pull back, but with only one it was much harder.
“So help me, Celestia, if you don’t stop loading that damn thing I’m going to shoot you, Gilda! Tell me what the hell is going on here!” Dash yelled, the Arcumsire trembling in her hooves.
Gilda remained silent, her left paw slipped and the string snapped taught, eliciting a curse from her. She looked just beyond Dash to see Pinkie Pie. The pony wasn’t moving, but she couldn’t tell whether or not that included her breathing. It didn’t matter, she’d make sure that neither of these ponies were breathing by the time she was done.
“What happened?” Dash pleaded, “Stop loading that fucking thing and let’s talk. I don’t want to shoot you but I will if I have to!”
Gilda strained to pull the string back. Inch by inch it ascended to the final point.
Dash tried to pull her weapon’s trigger, but found that her hoof wouldn’t quite cut it. She seethed quietly at the device as she tried to get her hoof in far enough to pull the trigger.
“The second that I have this thing loaded,” Gilda said to Dash, “You’re going to die, Dash.”
“Why! What the hell is going on? What are you doing here? Why are you trying to kill us?”
Gilda kept her eyes focused on the Arcumsire as she slowly pulled back the string. Her left paw strained and she wanted to use her right, but it was too painful. She was almost there.
Clive coughed, “Watch...watch out. She’s...” Clive’s weak voice faded as he winced in pain. Gilda looked up to see Dash sticking what looked like a fork into the trigger guard and using it as a lever against the trigger.
“Shit!” Gilda felt a rush of adrenaline fill her. She ignored the pain in her right foreleg and pulled the string the rest of the way back. Gilda flipped the barrel skyward and dropped a bolt in before shouldering it and taking aim.
There was a single snap-click of an Arcumsire followed by a thwack of a bolt hitting its target. The target gasped as the bolt entered her chest, she let her Arcumsire fall to the ground before collapsing backwards and laying still.
The End ______________________________________________________________________________
Naw, just kidding! Not the end yet! ______________________________________________________________________________
Rainbow Dash’s eyes stared blankly at Gilda. The griffon lay on her back, a single bolt protruding from her chest.
Dash looked down to the Arcumsire in her hooves, confusedly noting that the string was still pulled all the way back in the cocked position. It was still loaded.
Clive sputtered, looking at Dash then at Gilda, then back at Dash. It was then that his eyes found the figure behind her, “F-Ful-Fulton?” He said confusedly.
“What?” Dash asked, “No, I’m Rainbo...” the rest of her words were turned to gibberish as the griffon behind her jabbed a dart into her neck and she fell flat on her face.
Fulton picked the Arcumsire from her unconscious body and walked over to Clive. He looked over the other griffon before leveling the Arcumsire and putting the bolt through Clive’s skull, killing him instantly.
“Find any survivors?” Fulton asked, turning on his heel and dropping the Arcumsire amid the ruin.
“No survivors could be found,” replied a Zebra, “Aside from those two that we’ve bound.”
“Good,” Fulton said, “Bind these two,” he gestured to Pinkie and Dash, “They’re coming with us.” ______________________________________________________________________________
To be Continued... ______________________________________________________________________________
Author's Notes: So my first Fan Fiction comes to an end, well sorta. I do plan on making a part two to this story line, but I'll be working on another story first so don't expect My Little Griffon: Underground (name liable to change(EDIT: It did, now it's called The Network)) for some time. However, if you're interested, Spiritus Malum should be showing up in a matter of days. Either way, I want to thank all my readers for reading and giving me those faves and likes. Without you I might as well have not ever created MLG:TRP.
