//------------------------------// // Chapter 19 // Story: Unshaken // by The 24th Pegasus //------------------------------// Let her come along: 78% Kestrel sighed and finished off the last of her whiskey in several gulps. She knew she was making a mistake, but she didn’t exactly have much of a choice at this point. Besides, the mare could be useful in her own right. She just hoped her foolishness wouldn’t bring the Gang down from within. “Well, way I see it, you’re resourceful enough to not somehow be dead even though you’re wanderin’ San Palomino all by yourself, and you’ve got a mouth that spits tales faster than even Wanderer here,” Kestrel said, looking Trixie over. “Only question I’ve got now is the matter of loyalty.” Trixie blinked. “So you’re saying that Trixie may join you?” “Now, we ain’t sayin’ nothin’, not yet,” Tumbleweed said, making his presence felt at Trixie’s side. “Soon as we figure we can trust you, then we’ll make that decision.” “Trixie is as trustworthy a mare as there has ever been!” Trixie proclaimed. “I am excellent at keeping secrets. Haven’t you ever heard of the magician’s code?” “Keeping stage secrets to yourself and our secrets are two matters entirely,” Wanderer said. “Ponies will die if you talk. And you’ll be the first among them.” The sudden shift in the attitude of the conversation seemed to unsettle Trixie. But whether she was brave or just plain stupid, she refused to back down. “Something tells Trixie that there’s more to this than meets the eye.” “I’m glad you figured that out,” Tumbleweed said with a wink. Then he turned his eyes to Kestrel. “Let’s go talk about what we found out back. Fewer ears there.” Kestrel and Wanderer leaned away from the bar, and Trixie started to follow them as well, only to be fixed with a pointed look from Tumbleweed. “You’re gonna stay in here and wait for us to return,” he said. “Just because we’re gonna take you along don’t mean that you need to hear what we’re talkin’ about.” “How is Trixie supposed to know what she’s to do if she can’t hear what this is about?” Trixie asked. Tumbleweed smirked at her. “That didn’t stop you from decidin’ you wanted in in the first place. We’ll come get you when we’re done. If you ain’t here, well, then I guess we’ll have to find you and settle matters on our own terms.” Despite the veiled threat, Trixie merely puffed out her chest. “Trixie will be waiting right here for your return.” “We shall see.” He turned away and walked out the door, the rest of the Gang following along behind. Trixie Lulamoon has joined the Gang Only when they were in the shadow of the saloon’s back did Tumbleweed take Kestrel aside. The look in his eyes and the way his magic yanked on her collar was all the warning she had that he was about to get unpleasant. “I wish you had come to talk to me about this before we start lettin’ random stage ponies into our crew,” he growled at Kestrel. “She’s an idiot, full of herself and about as smart as a sack of bricks,” Kestrel said with a shrug. “Fool like her will do us good. You can get somepony to split the whole song and dance with you whenever you need to talk ‘em over.” “Fools and idiots are not what we need right now,” Tumbleweed warned. “Why we keep Roughshod around then? He’s the biggest one there is.” Tumbleweed sighed and rubbed his temple. “If you think she’s worth it, then I will try to avoid doubting you. But if she squeals, that could be the end of us. I hope you know it.” “I do.” Kestrel knew she was sticking her neck out on the line here, but she wasn’t one to back down once a decision had been made. “We got enough shooters, we need more talkers in our gang. She’s quite a talker.” “As I can imagine.” In the silence that followed, Wanderer stepped between them. “We can worry about that Trixie mare later. Right now, we need to figure out what we’re going to do next. Now, I worked over a couple of interesting characters at the saloon. Most of them were the usual townsfolk, but there was an interesting feller who stopped by for a few rounds and a few free drinks.” “Interestin’ in what way?” Tumbleweed asked. His face was the definition of focused, and Kestrel knew he was prepared to scrutinize whatever lead Wanderer had turned up. The Gang needed money, and he wasn’t going to let a good opportunity pass by. “An army contractor,” Wanderer said. “I was as surprised as you would imagine at seeing a military pony here in Rock Ridge, especially given our delicate relationship with the government. But he let slip that there’s a train going to the San Palomino army depot, and it’ll be passing through Rock Ridge on the way there.” Kestrel frowned and scratched her chin with a wingtip. “Robbin’ from the Army ain’t gonna be easy.” “Only if they have enough soldiers to protect the train,” Wanderer said. “You remember how we even got out of the dunes and desert to end up here, right?” Shivers ran up and down Kestrel’s spine. Crossing the San Palomino had been a nightmare of sand and heat, and nopony knew if they were going to make it. It was only the discovery of a lonely set of railroad tracks running across the bone-dry ground that led them back to civilization and salvation. Tumbleweed slowly nodded. “There wouldn’t be anypony watchin’ the middle of the desert,” he said. “Trains are too infrequent for bandits to sit around waitin’ for ‘em.” “Exactly what I was thinking,” Wanderer said. “We stop the train in the desert, hit it hard, clean it out. There’s bound to be soldier payroll on it, and who knows what kind of gear we can find for ourselves.” It was a tempting prize; that was putting it mildly. The last time the Gang had hit a train, they’d seized government funding bound for Appleloosa and had lived like kings and queens for months. It was the last good haul they’d managed, and as far as Kestrel was concerned, it was the gold standard for robberies. If they could recreate even a fraction of that success… Tumbleweed nodded slowly. “I like it,” he finally said, a smile spreading across his muzzle. “We need money, and a lightly guarded train is perfect for that.” His focus shifted to Kestrel. “What did you turn up at the sheriff’s office?” “Not a whole lot,” Kestrel admitted. “But he don’t know who we are, and I didn’t see no posters, so we’re in the clear for now. He did say that things used to be a lot worse ‘round here til he got the other gangs to kill each other over a pile of gold. The Viper Gang’s now sittin’ on that gold; guess that’ was what Silvie and me saw yesterday.” Silver nodded her head, eyes twinkling at the sight of all that money. Tumbleweed scratched his chin and thought. “He say how much gold?” “Ten thousand bits,” Kestrel said. “But he said there’s forty of ‘em or so. Certainly seemed like it when we were there yesterday.” “We’ll have to think of somethin’ good to get that gold out, then” Tumbleweed said. “That’s a lot of money just to lie sittin’ in some other ponies’ pockets.” Kestrel nodded her agreement. “He also said he’d pay bounties on them Vipers. A lot of work for not all that much, only fifty bits a head, but he said he’d double it if we give him a live one.” Silver looked between Kestrel and Tumbleweed. “Like Sienna?” “Guess we can get some money for the rat if she don’t cooperate,” Tumbleweed said. “I wonder what Roughshod’s got outta her.” “Probably most of her teeth, if I were to guess,” Kestrel said, shrugging her wings. “Poor filly might want us to turn her over to the sheriff by the time we get back to her.” “I’d be happy to oblige,” Tumbleweed said. His magic dug through his pockets and eventually pulled out a piece of paper. “The mayor was mighty chatty with Silvie and me. Also mighty flush with cash, and no morals whatsoever. You’d have to go to Canterlot itself to find a pony with their head as far up as their ass as him.” “I take it he’s the kind of pony who doesn’t care who does his dirty work, so long as it can’t be traced back to him,” Wanderer said. Tumblweed nodded. “The pony has his eyes set on becoming governor of San Palomino, which is quite a large step up from mayor of Rock Ridge. However, there’s a journalist investigating tall tales of our charitable mayor’s less-than legal business practices. He don’t want him killed, but if he were to, say, change his tune, we would be rewarded handsomely.” “How much is ‘handsomely?’” Kestrel asked. “A thousand bits,” Tumbleweed said. “It’s easy work for easy pay, though from how it sounds, you two found more promising, if more dangerous leads.” “We’ll need to figure out what we’re going to do,” Wanderer said. “Better to get a head start on the planning.” Kestrel nodded in agreement; it was just a matter of figuring out which lead to pursue. 1.     Do the Mayor’s dirty work. Simple work for simple pay, enough to last us a little bit. Ain’t gonna expect too much from it, and we still gotta stay roughly within the lines of the law, else we ain’t gettin’ paid. [LOW RISK, LOW REWARD] 2.     Get the gold from the Viper Gang. Ten thousand bits is a lotta money to just leave sittin’ around. We get that, we’re set for months. Only problem’s gonna be getting’ past forty somethin’ ponies with just a hoofful of guns. [HIGH RISK, HIGH REWARD] 3.     Rob the army train. We don’t got a good idea of what’s on that train, only it’s gonna be good. Soldier payroll could be a lot of money, and on top of that, we can take all the guns and gear we want. No real word on what kind of opposition we might come across, save from the soldiers guarding the train itself. [RISK UNKNOWN, REWARD UNKNOWN] 4.     These leads are too dangerous. Surely there’s gotta be somethin’ better, easier we can tackle, right? [GANG MORALE -1] (Confidence Required: 40 Votes)