Play Along: 15 Votes
Kestrel’s eyes quickly scanned the room. Running wasn’t much of an option; she doubted she’d get very far before the unicorn grabbed her in telekinesis. Fighting was always a possibility, but she’d have to dig her weapons out from under her dress, and that wasn’t much of a choice. No matter how she tried to spin it, she was trapped, and the only way out was going through the Pinks. Hopefully they’d let her by.
If not, at least the Gang could say she went down swinging.
She swallowed and shyly angled her head away. “I-I don’t know, I really do need to be goin’, ma’am. I was just gettin’ set on my way out as you was comin’ in.”
“It’ll just be easier for us all since we’re right here to do this now, rather than us having to track you down later.” Bon Bon exchanged a look with Lyra, and the mint green unicorn hopped off of her stool and casually put herself between Kestrel and the door. “It’s just a few questions, that’s it.”
After a moment to appreciate just how screwed she was, Kestrel finally relented and nodded. “Alright. What do you want to know?”
“Just a few simple things.” Bon Bon likewise got off of her stool and gestured toward and empty booth nearby. “Let’s talk some in private.”
There wasn’t much Kestrel could do except comply. She made sure to at least grab the tumbler of whiskey as she went, though. If this was going to be the end of her, then she’d at least appreciate the free drink.
The three mares made their way to the booth, and Bon Bon gestured for Kestrel to sit down. She did so, sliding across one of the benches, while Bon Bon and Lyra sat down in the other. The earth pony took her repeater off her back and rested it against the wall in the corner of their booth, while Lyra placed hers on the table, the barrel pointed only just slightly away from Kestrel’s chest. She eyed it for a moment, noting that the unicorn had pulled the hammer back before setting it down. All it would take was a twitch, a mere thought, and Kestrel knew her guts would be painting the booth red before she could so much as lift a feather.
They know, she thought. It was the only reason why the two Pinks would take such precautious with a random mare at a bar.
“Now then,” Bon Bon said, picking up her tumbler glass in a dexterous hoof and bringing it to her lips. “You said your name was…?”
“Thistle. Ma’am,” Kestrel said, keeping a close eye on the expressions of the two mares sitting across from her. If it looked like she was about to go down in flames, then she needed to be ready to act and see if there was something to salvage from the whole ordeal.
“Thistle. Well, thank you for taking some time to talk with us, Thistle.” Bon Bon set her whiskey tumbler down, the glass already half-emptied. The Pink pulled a cigarette out from inside her jacket and offered it to Kestrel, who refused as politely as she could. Shrugging, Bon Bon lit the end and stuck it in her mouth, the acrid stench of burning tobacco soon filling the booth. “So, Thistle. Have you see anything odd lately?”
Kestrel feigned confusion and cocked her head to the side. “Odd? Odd how?”
She noticed that Lyra had pulled out a pencil and pad of paper. Somehow, the scratch of graphite over paper stood out above the din of the bar, and it irritated her like an itch in her ear. Bon Bon, for her part, didn’t change her expression or posture. “Well, we had it on good authority that there was some… outlaw trouble in the south. A group of fugitives we were chasing crossed the San Palomino a while back. Now, we thought for sure they died crossing the desert, but then this little town of Rock Ridge practically went down in flames overnight. A military train was robbed, a gang war broke out, and one of the officers on that train said that the two mares who robbed it were exactly who we were looking for. So it turns out they didn’t die after all.” The end of the cigarette flared red as Bon Bon took a breath, and her eyebrow crawled up her forehead. “You happen to hear anything about that?”
The outlaw-in-disguise very quickly shook her head. “No, I ain’t heard nothin’ ‘bout that. Are they still out there?”
“We think they came to Hoofston after they fought off a wing of cavalryponies,” Bon Bon said. “A few travelers we talked to around Rock Ridge said they’d seen ponies resembling them heading east out of the town, toward this city. They’re probably camped somewhere around here, waiting to make a move. Hoofston is a big city after all, filled with opportunities. Especially since the Apple Family is holding their big convention. That might be the kind of thing to draw out a gang of murderers and thieves.”
“It’s why Miss Applejack hired a few of us for extra security,” Lyra said, only to be silenced with a stern look from Bon Bon. The unicorn smiled apologetically, and the pencil scribbled across the paper once again. “Uh… yeah. Don’t worry about what I said.”
Kestrel took the opportunity to put the tumbler of whiskey to her lips and toss her head back. She drained the glass in one gulp, momentarily grimacing as the fire of alcohol raced its way down her throat. “Is that all?” she asked, wings anxiously twitching at her sides beneath her dress. “I do have to get back to my husband. He should be gettin’ offa his shift at the factory soon.”
“Almost,” Bon Bon said, and she nudged Lyra’s foreleg with an elbow. “We just have one more question to ask you…”
Lyra’s horn flared up, and a flash momentarily blinded Kestrel. She put her hooves to her eyes, waiting for the bright light burned into her retinas to disappear. When it finally did, she pulled her hooves away, only to freeze in shock when she saw her natural brown on them, not the green of her disguise. Gray locks of mane danced at the corners of her vision, not white, and her muzzle took on its usual shape once again, the contours no longer tweaked by Trixie’s illusion.
Kestrel uses Sweet Talker (4) to lie to the Pinks: Fail
She also noticed that Lyra had picked up the shotgun and had the end of the barrel pointed squarely at her nose. When Kestrel crossed her eyes, she could see the red cartridge loaded at the bottom of the barrel. One squeeze of the trigger, and a hundred little lead balls would come flying out of that steel tube. There wouldn’t be much left of her face to identify her after that.
“Miss Kestrel,” Bon Bon purred, crossing her forelegs and smugly smirking at Kestrel. “I thought I recognized your voice under that disguise. That is some lovely makeup you had, I have to say. Though I think your real natural look, the one I see on all those posters, is much more charming.
Kestrel clenched her jaw tight. “Glad to hear you think so,” she said, staring down the Pink. Every instinct in her body told her to flee, but she knew better than to listen to them right now. So much as a twitch would have her eating lead, and while she may have been a quick draw, she definitely wasn’t fast enough to beat that shotgun. “How’d you know it was me?”
“I felt something,” Lyra said. “That illusion you had? Really poor work. I could sense it almost as soon as we walked inside. You just gotta know what to look for, and it’ll pop right now.” She winked at Kestrel. “It comes with years on the job. It might have fooled other ponies, but not me.”
“Then I guess I shoulda found a better magician.” Her eyes slid over to Bon Bon. “So, Pink, when’re you takin’ me up to the gallows?”
“Now, who said anything about that?” Bon Bon smiled, and Lyra lowered the shotgun, though she still kept it in her magical grip, ready to be fired at a moment’s notice. Then the earth pony leaned in closer. “Let me put it to you this way, Kestrel. Killing one of you isn’t going to do us much good. Sure, it’ll be one fewer outlaw for Equestria to deal with, but all it’s going to do is delay the problem. It’ll send the rest of your friends into hiding, and this can will get kicked a few years down the road. But it won’t end.”
She lounged back in her seat and finished off the rest of her whiskey. “I’d rather cut a deal and save us all some really hard work. Tit for tat, if you will. It’s rather generous, I might add.”
“A deal?” Kestrel’s eyebrow raised. “Why should I accept a deal from you? Outlaws, we have honor, but the Law ain’t what I’d call honest. Doubly so for trumped up bounty hunters like yourselves.”
“I’d say taking an easy out is much better than taking a short fall from a long rope.”
“At least the rope gets it done and over with in a heartbeat.”
Bon Bon frowned at her. “I’ll leave you with our offer, Kestrel. We don’t want just one of your gang. We want your whole damn gang. And if you turn them over to us, you’ll get a royal pardon. You’ll be free to live out the rest of your natural days as a farmer or a ranchhoof or whatever strikes your fancy, so long as you remain a good law-abiding citizen. An ample reward for doing your part to clean up the lawlessness of the Equestrian south.”
As she said those words, she pulled out an envelope from inside her jacket and placed it on the table in front of Kestrel. Kestrel didn’t dare reach over and touch it, but she picked it apart with her eyes. It’d been crumpled and stained from travel, but the unmistakable seal of the Princess Celestia held the letter together, stamped in vibrant, golden wax. If nothing else, she knew that Bon Bon couldn’t be bluffing about the pardon. Not even the Pinks could forge a royal seal and get away with it.
Kestrel said nothing, and Bon Bon tucked the letter back into her jacket. Then, looking at Lyra, she nodded, and Lyra carefully reset the hammer on her shotgun and stood up. Both mares slid their way out of the booth, taking their weapons with them, both sides warily watching each other the whole way. “Just… think on our little offer for a while,” Bon Bon said, smiling at Kestrel.
That little smile made Kestrel want to beat it off of the mare’s face with her bare hooves. “I’ll keep it in mind,” she slowly said.
“Yes. Do that. Because the next time we cross paths, I’ll expect an answer.” She winked at Kestrel, and Lyra stuck her tongue out for good measure. “It’s not an offer we’ll make again. At least, not to you. How much do you trust the rest of your ‘friends’, Kestrel? Think they wouldn’t take us up on it?”
“We ain’t givin’ you shit,” Kestrel hissed at her. “You can count on that.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Bon Bon said. “Otherwise I’d just have to arrest you on the spot.” Then she patted Lyra on the shoulder and began to walk toward the door. “Good day, Kestrel. Hope your ‘husband’ has a good shift at the factory.”
Kestrel watched them go, waited until the bell above the door tinkled as they stepped outside. She waited ten more minutes before she even bothered getting up from the booth, and even then, it wasn’t to leave. Instead, she went back to the bar and ordered two more whiskeys, neat, and took them back to her booth.
The proposal the Pinks made gnawed at her mind the entire time as she finished those two drinks, but more concerning than that was the simple fact that they knew the Gang was somewhere near Hoofston. She had no idea what to do about that, or even what to do next.
Law Attention increased by 2 to 4 (Very High)
1. Fly back to the Gang. I need to tell ‘em what happened here. They need to know the Pinks are in town, and we need to figure out what our next move is.
2. Rent a room in Hoofston and wait. I can’t go right back to the Gang now. They could be watchin’ for me, waitin’ to see where I go. I’ll take a room for a night and then slip away early in the mornin’. Gang’ll be worried about me for sure, though, and I pray they don’t do somethin’ stupid worryin’ ‘bout me…
3. Try to track down where the Pinks are staying. It’s time to hunt the hunters, I think. I’ll fly ‘round the city, gather what information I can, figure out where they’re stayin’. That information might be incredibly valuable to us later, though it ain’t without its risks… [DANGEROUS]