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Novelux Copperridge Wharf

Dave took a long breath. Train car totally wrecked, nobody there. So...

"Don't suppose there were any signs of what had wrecked the train car? What types of attacks, et cetera? Or tracks leading away from it? Know about any witnesses?"
 
"Not buying it for a second, eh?" chuckled the Diggersby.

Laura let out a nasal chuckle, and prepared her notebook. "No, sir. We're pretty sure there was foul play, and we want the full story." She tried to read the foreman's face, and made a stab in the dark. "If it'd make trouble for you to publicise that fact, we don't need to do that. We just want to find the missing 'mon and know who to watch our backs around."

Buck stroked his chin thoughtfully, eyeing up Dave. A 'mon didn't need to have exceptional judge of character to see that Dave had precisely zero capacity for dissembling or confidence artistry. The guy was as straightforward as they came. And Laura... Well, something softened in him when he looked at her, at least.

"Okay," he said at last, nodding. "Piston, you can go ahead, buddy."

The Gigalith lumbered in place, somehow managing to look at once like a statuesque mound of unliving rock, and a flustered kid too shy to speak up at a social gathering. If rocks could blush...

"Gghhm," he mumbled. "Uhhm. Yeagh. The car— It had lost all its proofing. Too much damage from pokémon attacks. Burnt metal – like a, erhm, welding blowhole, but much larger. Mud, not local soil, looked like ahh, Ground-type attack residue. Buckled metal, too."

"Not explainable by low-quality materials I'm guessing?" ventured Laura.

Piston shook his head and vibrated gently. "Nuh-uh. Hit by someone strong. Real strong."

He stomped the engine cover plate resting nearby with one massive leg. It clanged, but did not so much as bend.

"Much stronger than you?" asked Laura.

He nodded. "...Yeagh. Real strong."
 
Well. Good to know someone was finally willing to be reasonable about this. Leaf shook Buck's ear with a hoof and it wasn't even weird anymore or anything. Mostly. Hooves, man.

The damage definitely sounded gnarly. Had Brisa (and her attackers) really done all that alone? (Could they do that?) It hadn't sounded that bad from Jade's description, but maybe the fight had continued for a while afterward. The Covenant or whoever must've been real desperate to grab Brisa... hopefully she'd gotten away okay.

"You want to know, too," she said, looking between Whistler and Buck, politely telling the voice in the back of her head to shut up because clearly they weren't mad about it anymore. "What happened. But you had to tell people it was something else... how come? Just so you didn't cause a fuss, or...?"
 
"Ground-type attacks," Jade repeated, tapping a paw against her other arm. "Yeah, that'd probably be the gang of Croagunk. There was a lot of Mud Shot flying around. But then... why'd the report try to pass it off as failed parts? Wouldn't that look worse on the company?" Unless someone else was trying to keep the incident on the down low?

"And, uh... I don't suppose any of the damage looked like lightning?" Jade ventured.
 
"Yeagh," mumbled Piston, seemingly trying to hide behind his own legs. "Lightning, or a strong Electric-type."

"Coulda been the Ground attacks were to put down an Electric sucker," remarked the Carracosta railworker, pulling away from his colleagues to spend his attention on the locomotive, while Buck's eyes were elsewhere.

Whistler exchanged a glance with Buck before answering, and again, he nodded his approval.

"Head office would rather have it out with the suppliers about part quality than let the public think the trains could get attacked on the way to Novelux," she explained. "As far as they'll admit publicly, nobody was even on the lost car."

"It's gotta involve the terrorists," muttered the Carracosta, grimly. "Only thing that makes sense."

"Easy, Sledge," said Buck, quietly.

Carracosta Sledge shot a dark look over his shoulder at everyone else.

"Head office is covering it up 'cause the heelers can't look weak for not doing anything about the terrorists."

Buck's foot tapped the concrete. "Sledge. Can it."

Whistler rolled her eyes. "Maybe head office just wants to keep their customers. And get their insurance claims."

"Maybe," muttered Sledge.
 
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