11 - Operation Firestarter Debriefing

C11 Operation Firestarter Debriefing

By N00813

  “Sit-rep?”  Rolk’s voice murmured over the comms.

  “Cargo secured,” Gilda muttered, watching the dog struggle on the ground as her earpiece hummed.  “Tricks is with them.”

  Dust’s crossbow bolt hadn’t gone flying off to who knows where.  Gilda had to give her credit for that.  Shooting a crossbow wasn’t easy for ponies, who lacked the digits needed to pull on the mechanical trigger.  They could make do with a hoof, but slamming a limb into the rear of the weapon tended to mess with their aim.

  At least the bolt hadn’t buried itself in a tree somewhere, or in the slaves.  The dog continued to howl in pain, clawing forwards with his front paws, the hind ones twitching.  The injury looked like a spinal.

  She turned her head, away from the dog, towards Dust.  The pegasus was even greener than normal around the face, and her cheeks bulged out as she clamped a hoof to her mouth.  A red hoof.  At least the blood had dried.

  Gilda smirked, shaking her head as she drew her own crossbow.  The dog looked up at the sudden sound, and his ears folded as he stared down the bolt, sitting in the guide like a tiger ready to spring.

  She pulled the trigger.  The weapon kicked backwards, the pistol grip ramming into her palm.  She folded the weapon, before walking towards the dog’s body and wrenching the crossbow bolt out of its eye.

  Dust gagged, turning away and shouldering her weapon just as the earpiece hissed.  “Search the bodies.”

  It took only a few minutes before Tricks hissed in grim satisfaction, pulling a gold-embroidered gem out of the pockets of the biggest dog in the group.  Gilda recognised it.  It was a sign of ‘pack leader’ – a quick glance at it would tell new incomers who the boss was, and who they ought to fight to take that position for themselves.

  “Good work, people,” Rolk said, dropping down from the mess of branches and leaves onto the dirt path.  His rifle was already slung on his back.  He opened a claw towards Tricks, and she hesitated for a moment before tossing the gilded gem towards him.

  He eyed it for a moment, before sticking it in a pouch by his side.

  “Dust, your aim is rubbish.  Still, keep that crossbow.  It’ll fetch a nice price.”

  Dust nodded, her cheeks suddenly feeling as if they were on fire.

  “Wonderful.  We’re done here, then,” he said, tensing his wings and giving them an experimental flap.  “Should be back at Dodge at sunset –”

  “What about the slaves?” Dust said, pointing to the motley group.  Her face was still green, but at least she was breathing normally now.

  Three pairs of eyes locked onto her, and she shrunk a bit under all of their gazes.

  “What about them?” Rolk finally spoke, his gaze even.

  Dust couldn’t see any spark of emotion on his face at all.  It was just a blank mask.  She gulped down her rising dread, and coughed as her words prepared to elbow their way out of her too-tight throat.  “What do we do with them?  We can’t just leave them here.”

  Tricks made a quick gesture with her head, catching Rolk’s eye for a split-second and redirecting his gaze towards the tunnel dug into the cliff.  He nodded, and she pulled the hood of her cloak back onto her head.  Even as she trotted towards it, Dust’s eyes began to water as they flickered between the spaces around Tricks’ form.  Pegasi had good eyes, but even then, it was becoming quite difficult to pick out her silhouette.  The magic of the cloak, she surmised.

  “We’re not,” Rolk said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.  For him, it could have been.  “We’re going back to Dodge City Guards to hand them off in exchange for the bounty.”

  Dust nodded, slowly.  Suddenly, the crossbow balanced on her back seemed a lot heavier.

  “No more missions, chief?”  Gilda raised an eyebrow, before inspecting the reinforced steel claws of her gauntlet.  She headed over to the slaves, before giving them a quick once-over.  They didn’t seem too badly damaged.  A bit worn and dusty, sure, but that was to be expected.

  Gilda took up the chains, giving them an experimental tug.  The pony attached closest yelped in fear.  She rolled her eyes.

  Rolk shook his head, before remembering that Gilda couldn’t see him from her place by the slaves.  “Not for a little while.”  He pursed his flexible beak, before nodding.  “Dust, I’ll talk to you later.  In private.”

  Dust nodded, her wings flaring out as she felt the crossbow begin to slip from the dip in her back.  “Alright.”

  “Good.  Get everything you want, and we’ll leave.”