After having her little chat with Silver, Kestrel made her way through the rest of the camp and made sure the Gang was gathered together by the time Tumbleweed returned along the road. Though Tumbleweed seemed a bit ticked that Kestrel had flown off without him after their argument, he thankfully didn’t bring it up when everypony gathered in the main building. Instead, he simply sat everypony down around the long table inside, and even the metal mare Gizmo stood off to the side, though Kestrel couldn’t tell whether the automaton was actively listening or just wanted to be with its masters.
Once everypony was together, Tumbleweed summarized the meeting with the moonshiners to those who couldn’t come along. “Their boss, much as they got one, claims he knows somethin’ that could get us the money we need to leave this country behind,” he informed them. “But he’s only gonna tell us if we help him take out his rivals first.”
“Why bother with that?” Roughshod asked. “You said there was only five of ‘em, right? We can beat it outta five easier than we can outta twenty.”
“That was my sentiment, but there was some pushback,” Tumbleweed said, and his eyes briefly swept towards Kestrel before turning back toward Roughshod. “Least they’re willin’ to help us some. He said that unicorn of theirs was a good shot and she’d help out if need be. I ain’t so sure ‘bout that, but we’ll see.”
“If we ain’t killed first, you mean,” the big earth pony grumbled.
It was enough to force Kestrel to cut in for a moment. “We ain’t gone this far just to stoop to common’ murderin’,” she chastised Roughshod. Then she glanced at Tumbleweed for a moment. “As you said, boss, ‘We help ponies as need helpin’, save ponies as need savin’, and kill ponies as need killin’.’ Ain’t that right?”
“Things were easier when we weren’t thin as we are now,” Tumbleweed acknowledged. “When we got across the San Palomino, we had breathin’ room and a second chance. And we had Wanderer. We ain’t got none of that now. Nothin’ matters more than gettin’ outta here alive.”
“Gettin’ outta here as a family and with our dignity means somethin’,” Silver interrupted, her wingtip wiping at her runny nose as she suppressed a sniffle. “We ain’t bad ponies. Not inside. Don’t matter what they say ‘bout us, we know the truth. We can’t turn back on that now.”
“Kindness is a luxury,” Snapshot simply stated from the edge of the group. “One we can’t afford anymore.”
But it was ultimately Miss Irons who broke the stalemate, managing to find a voice as strong as her name and snap out of her lingering melancholy, if only for a little bit. “Wanderer wouldn’t want to see us turn into common scoundrels,” she said, looking them each in the eye in turn. “We’re better than that. He knew it. You all know it.”
Everypony sat in silence for a few moments, absorbing the weight of that statement. But even if it might not have killed the discussion, Gizmo’s helpful contribution a moment later put a definitive end to it. “Assault and battery is a serious crime. Why don’t we talk with each other and use our words to sort out our differences instead of resorting to violence?”
Roughshod groaned and shot the robot a glare. “I liked it better when tin cans didn’t know how to talk,” he grumbled.
That just made Silver giggle, restoring some levity to the air. “She’s got a point, you know. Maybe Gizmo can help us all become outstandin’ citizens.”
“Maybe the Pinks’ll let us off with community service if we show ‘em we’ve learned from the errors of our ways,” Kestrel said, relishing the moment to find something to lighten the mood and smile over, if only for a moment. But when that moment passed, she let it go with a shake of her head and turned her attention back to the task at hoof. “Anyway, we agreed to help out the shiners. They got us a map of this little ol’ fort that their rivals is operatin’ outta. Said it was twenty ponies or so, but if we do things right, we can cut down on their numbers advantage. We got three days to come up with a plan, scout things out and see what’s promisin’.”
Tumbleweed nodded in agreement. “We can’t afford to lose nopony if we’re really goin’ through with this. We only got five of us to take advantage of what we learn from the shiners when we get ‘em what they want. I ain’t gonna put Miss Irons in danger if I can afford it, and we don’t know what we got in the robot. Figurin’ things out ‘fore we make our move is gonna be extremely important.”
He then turned to Silver. “How you feelin’, Silvie? You about over your cold yet?”
“I hope so,” Silver said, once again sniffling. “It ain’t fun down in this humid heat. I’m hopin’ I’ll be over it tomorrow.”
“Hopefully,” Tumbleweed agreed. “I need you flyin’ with Kestrel, givin’ her backup. I ain’t lookin’ to send her off alone in case she needs it.”
“If it comes down to it, I can handle myself,” Kestrel said. “Gettin’ Silvie well rested for the hit three days from now’s more important.”
“We’ll make a decision tomorrow mornin’,” Tumbleweed said. “Give her the night to sleep it off.” When both mares nodded in agreement, he sighed and stood up. “Before we break, Gang, I just wanna say one thing. Now, more than ever, we gotta be lookin’ out for our own. Everythin’ we do, we gotta be doin’ to make sure that we’re gettin’ outta New Oatleans in one piece. If we ain’t got each other’s backs, then we ain’t gonna get anywhere. Keep that in mind. And if you hear somethin’ or got any concerns ‘bout somethin’, make sure to bring it up with me. We gotta address ‘em quick ‘fore they become a problem.”
As he said that, he looked at each member of the Gang in turn. But it didn’t escape Kestrel’s notice that his eyes lingered on Snapshot a second longer than the rest… and on her as well.
As everypony nodded, Roughshod slapped a hoof down on the table. “Screw all this doomy gloomy nonsense,” he said, though it was colored more like an annoyed grumble spoken a little too loudly. “I need some cards and some beer. Get dinner cookin’, and let’s relax some. Everypony been too damn tense since Hoofston and it’s gettin’ on my nerves.”
“Might as well,” Tumbleweed agreed. “Help Miss Irons out with whatever needs done for dinner, and we’ll get a fire goin’ and enjoy the night best we can. We don’t take care of ourselves, we ain’t gonna be ready for nothin’ these next few days.”
The Gang voiced its general agreement, and then ponies began to move around and get to work—save for Kestrel. She lingered at the table for a little bit and thought to herself. Despite his words, or maybe because of them, Kestrel found herself worrying about the rest of the members in the Gang along the same lines as the concerns she voiced to Silvie not all that earlier. If it came down to it, would their family start picking sides? And if they did, whose side would they all choose?
She wondered whether or not those concerns were worth voicing with anypony else in the Gang, or if she should just let it slide for now.
1. Voice concerns with Roughshod. He’s big and tough, and bawdy and brash as he is, he’s the closest thing the Gang’s got to a fire inside. Maybe I should check in on him.
2. Voice concerns with Snapshot. He’s the opposite of Rough, but he’s our best and most reliable shot. Maybe I should check in on him, especially after what Tumbleweed confided to me.
3. Voice concerns with Miss Irons. She holds the Gang together at camp, but she ain’t been herself lately with Wanderer gone. Maybe a talk would do her some good and she can help sort things out amongst all of us.
4. Drop it for now. Ain’t worth gettin’ more ponies riled up and worried like I did with Silvie. Moment I start askin’ ponies what side of the line they gonna fall on means I’ve already started drawin’ the line. Can’t have that if we’re gonna get outta this alive.