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Description
Another moment from my anthro MLP dreamscape. Once again the focus character of this dream was Royal Equestria Security Forces (RESF) operative Coco Pommel.
Coco ate the last of her raspberry sorbet and finished off her bottle of sparkling water. Along with the cold shrimp and noodle salad it had made for a very refreshing light dinner. Since she’d arrived in Ft. Trotterdale 3 weeks ago this little bistro had become a regular spot she dined at. It was just a short walk from the beachside bungalow she was renting. The staff were polite and professional and knew her face now as one of the regulars. She’d miss dining here regularly, but after tonight she’d probably be reassigned immediately. Such was the nature of her work.
Squaring up her bill with the staff the earth pony got up and adjusted her swimsuit. With that accomplished she lifted one the legs of the chair she’d been sitting at and pulled the shoulder strap of the day-pack she was carrying her off it. She’d done this to prevent snatch and grab thieves from easily taking it.
It was well after 7pm when she started walking toward Sea Wave Park. She routinely took walks in the early evening through the park. The breezes in the evening were particularly refreshing and did an excellent job at quelling the late spring heat.
It was Saturday and the streets were full of ponies who’d come down to the shoreline to enjoy the sights and get away from the weekly grind. The majority of the stallions and mares that evening were wearing swimsuits of some type so Coco blended into the crowd. Her unbuttoned white, short sleeved cotton shirt, sunglasses, and sandals rounded out her wardrobe. Her body language was casual and nonchalant, but her eyes were constantly scanning the crowd and glancing at the reflections in passing windows as she made her way to operation area. In her mind she mused at how this op had started for her 9 months ago.
Rarity stared at her laptop and then at the earth pony. “Coco dear. I’ve been looking at your file and I noticed something very interesting.” Her commander brought up a particular document. “It says here that you use to compete in biathlon. Was that winter or summer events?”
Coco looked up from her espresso. She was sitting in Rarity’s office in RESF’s headquarters in Canterlot. It was late fall and the evenings were starting be very brisk. The snow would be arriving soon. Rarity’s number one sharpshooter smiled.
“Both ma’am, but I prefer summer biathlon. I’m better at running than cross country skiing. Although I’d like to try the new mountain bike class some day!”
The white unicorn jotted a couple of notes. “When was the last time you competed in it darling?”
The earth pony swirled the contents of her cup as she pondered the question. “Hmm, I’d say at least 4 years ago.” She sighed softly. “Been kind of busy.”
Rarity took sip of her cappuccino. “Care to start doing it again dear? We have an op that is shaping up where your skills in it might be very useful.”
Coco entered Sea Wave Park taking one of the many slowly weaving walkways. A steady stream of ponies was entering the park, but the majority of them were making their way to the music pavilion located at sea side part of the park. The springtime free concert series was in full swing. Ponies carrying coolers, baskets, blankets, and backpacks were starting to pour into the park. Coco just looked like another concert attendee. However at branch in the walkways she took one that led up the slope. Away from the venue.
Her final destination was at the top of the highest hill in the park. She stopped and took in the surroundings. Celestia’s sun had almost entirely set in the west and the sky was turning a deep blue. The first of Luna’s stars were starting to twinkle in the sky. Turning around the mare looked back the way she’d come. About a quarter mile away and down the slope the park was bathed in the lights of the concert stage. She glanced around for a moment and then stepped off the lit walkway and into the darkness and the bushes that dotted the park.
Coco arrived at her destination in a few seconds. Upon her arrival in Ft. Trotterdale she’d scouted out this location a couple of weeks ago. A tiny clearing in circle of low bushes on the downward slope of the hill. From the park walkway the location was hidden, and the overhanging limbs of a nearby tree meant the spot was almost invisible to aerial fliers. It was a perfect spot for tonight’s operation.
In fact the mare had been worried that the site might be perfect for other things. So upon discovering it she’d discreetly placed several monitoring wards around it a couple weeks ago. What made it a perfect shooting location also made it great rendezvous spot for romantic couples. Fortunately regular visits to the location had shown no other visitors.
Coco unslung her day pack and unzipped the main compartment. Retrieving a large, folded, light pink towel she laid it on the ground. With that accomplished she sat down on the towel and opened second compartment in the pack and started retrieving the components of a small .22lr bolt action rifle. Quickly she reassembled the 2 piece stock, remounted a scope with its quick-detach mount, and screwed a suppressor to the threaded end of the muzzle. Finally she fitted a 10rd magazine loaded with subsonic ammunition.
The rifle was variant of what she used in biathlon. It’s straight-pull and short action throw meant it was almost as fast in aimed fire as a semi-automatic. However with subsonic ammunition the suppressed rifle eerily quiet. Just the sound of the firing pin dropping and a soft puutut sound. Even the working of bolt was muted by the use of thin coating of polymer on critical spots of the bolt handle to minimize the clacking of metal parts against each other. This was Coco’s Whispering Death.
However tonight the mare wasn’t killing anypony. Instead her targets was 6 inanimate lights in a parking lot and a lone security camera. From her position she could see the back parking lot of Brindle, Gallop and Trot Fabrication.
RESF had learned last year that this business was being used as a small base of operations for a changeling cell loyal to Queen Chrysalis. Tonight the RESF was going to raid it. The main objective of this mission was to capture as many changelings as possible. Coco would have 35 seconds too neutralize all of her assigned targets before a wave 10 pegasus ponies landed in the darkened area she was going to create. From there they’d advance through the back service entrance while other teams entered the building from other directions.
Now situated Coco checked the time and donned a lightweight, encrypted radio and hands-free headset with a mike. She toggled the power and checked in.
“White Petrel to Nest. I’ve found my roosting place for the night. Over.” White Petrel was her call sign for tonight. Nest was the temporary command center set up nearby. She could hear other teams giving their status updates as they moved into position as well. After a minute or so Coco heard’s Rarity voice on the comm-link.
“White Petrel this Swan. So good to hear that you’re in your roosting place. Standby for further instructions. Over.”
“Roger that Swan. White Petrel standing by. Over.”
The earth pony scanned her assigned targets again with a small rangefinder. She’d taken numerous readings before, but she was methodical in her preparation. Behind her in the distance the first band was taking the stage. It’s noise would drown most of the sounds from tonight’s op.
At T-minus 1 minute Coco cycled the bolt and chambered the first subsonic cartridge. She had 7 targets and 10rds in the magazine. That gave her 3 second attempts. She flicked the safety off and shoulder the rifle at T-minus 30 seconds.
“White Petrel to Nest. Ready. Over.”
“Understood White Petrel.” Rarity said. “Beginning final count now.”
Her commander started counting down. Coco settled illuminated scope reticle on 1st target. A security camera mounted over the back entrance. It was 128yds away and was the furthest target. She had to squarely hit the lens to disable it for sure. Slowly Rarity counted.
“15, 14, 13–” Coco made a final adjustments to her aim. Fortunately this area was well sheltered from the ocean breezes.
“12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6–” Coco took a deep breath and let it half out. She was now mentally run on effectively a pre-programmed script in her mind. Her entire world was the scope reticle. Gently her finger came to rest on the trigger.
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1–” One was the go the signal for her. She pressed the trigger. Puutut. The rifle had almost no recoil and she observed lens shatter and camera droop on its mount. Without thinking Coco worked bolt of rifle. It hissed and ejected the first fired casing. Already her reticle was settling on the first light in parking lot. It was a 115yds away.
Her and Rarity had gone over this part of the operation numerous times. Coco had even taken a video of the lot from this location and on the big screen TV back in her bungalow she’d done dry runs over and over with an unloaded rifle to determine the fastest way of tackling her assigned targets. She had 6 lights. Two sets on either side of the entrance that needed to be eliminated. Eventually Coco settled on engaging the each of the lights at same distance. This meant a side-to-side motion but it seemed to be the easiest for her.
Puutut. The first light exploded. The second she saw the flash of the unit failing she was already shifting to acquire her next target. Puutut. Another light went out. Coco was running on muscle memory now. Years of practice on the range, in competition, and in the field were now guiding her as she worked to eliminate her targets.
Puutut. Puutut. Puutut. She worked the action one last time and settled the reticle on the final light. Instinctively she knew she was ahead of schedule. No reason to botch this last shot. She took another breath. Let it half out she pressed the trigger one last time.
Puutut. The final assigned target went dark. Coco cycled the action and chambered another round. She wasn’t assigned to support or covering fire, but if trouble arrived she’d do what she could.
With a .22lr rifle firing subsonic ammunition. It wasn’t much but she’d wait until this team had entered. She activated her mike.
“White Petrel to Flock. I’ve made a nice place for you to roost tonight. Over.” After a second she heard the voice of the mare in charge of her team.
“White Petrel. This is Flock. We see our roosting area. Looks nice. Thanks for making it. Over.”
A few seconds later a group of shadows came swooping down out of the darkening skies and landed in the area of blackness she’d created. Through her scope she watched them quickly form up and advance on the service entrance door. A few seconds later they were through.
Coco activated her mike again. “White Petrel to Swan. I’m leaving my roost and heading back to the Nest. Over.”
“White Petrel. Swan confirms. Safe travels darling. See you back at the nest. Over.”
Quickly Coco picked up the spent shell casings. They were easy to see even in the dark on the light towel she was sitting on. Also the rifle had neatly ejected them between her legs. Quickly she removed the magazine, cycled action and ejected the one unfired cartridge. Using a corner of the towel she gripped the now somewhat toasty suppressor and unscrewed it. Stowing it in its compartment the earth pony finished breaking down the rifle. She heard nothing from building which was just the way things should be. Stowing the rifle Coco folded up the towel and returned it to the day-pack. Then she got up and headed back to the walkway. Finding it empty she wandered off into the night.
Alternate Source(FA)
Coco ate the last of her raspberry sorbet and finished off her bottle of sparkling water. Along with the cold shrimp and noodle salad it had made for a very refreshing light dinner. Since she’d arrived in Ft. Trotterdale 3 weeks ago this little bistro had become a regular spot she dined at. It was just a short walk from the beachside bungalow she was renting. The staff were polite and professional and knew her face now as one of the regulars. She’d miss dining here regularly, but after tonight she’d probably be reassigned immediately. Such was the nature of her work.
Squaring up her bill with the staff the earth pony got up and adjusted her swimsuit. With that accomplished she lifted one the legs of the chair she’d been sitting at and pulled the shoulder strap of the day-pack she was carrying her off it. She’d done this to prevent snatch and grab thieves from easily taking it.
It was well after 7pm when she started walking toward Sea Wave Park. She routinely took walks in the early evening through the park. The breezes in the evening were particularly refreshing and did an excellent job at quelling the late spring heat.
It was Saturday and the streets were full of ponies who’d come down to the shoreline to enjoy the sights and get away from the weekly grind. The majority of the stallions and mares that evening were wearing swimsuits of some type so Coco blended into the crowd. Her unbuttoned white, short sleeved cotton shirt, sunglasses, and sandals rounded out her wardrobe. Her body language was casual and nonchalant, but her eyes were constantly scanning the crowd and glancing at the reflections in passing windows as she made her way to operation area. In her mind she mused at how this op had started for her 9 months ago.
Rarity stared at her laptop and then at the earth pony. “Coco dear. I’ve been looking at your file and I noticed something very interesting.” Her commander brought up a particular document. “It says here that you use to compete in biathlon. Was that winter or summer events?”
Coco looked up from her espresso. She was sitting in Rarity’s office in RESF’s headquarters in Canterlot. It was late fall and the evenings were starting be very brisk. The snow would be arriving soon. Rarity’s number one sharpshooter smiled.
“Both ma’am, but I prefer summer biathlon. I’m better at running than cross country skiing. Although I’d like to try the new mountain bike class some day!”
The white unicorn jotted a couple of notes. “When was the last time you competed in it darling?”
The earth pony swirled the contents of her cup as she pondered the question. “Hmm, I’d say at least 4 years ago.” She sighed softly. “Been kind of busy.”
Rarity took sip of her cappuccino. “Care to start doing it again dear? We have an op that is shaping up where your skills in it might be very useful.”
Coco entered Sea Wave Park taking one of the many slowly weaving walkways. A steady stream of ponies was entering the park, but the majority of them were making their way to the music pavilion located at sea side part of the park. The springtime free concert series was in full swing. Ponies carrying coolers, baskets, blankets, and backpacks were starting to pour into the park. Coco just looked like another concert attendee. However at branch in the walkways she took one that led up the slope. Away from the venue.
Her final destination was at the top of the highest hill in the park. She stopped and took in the surroundings. Celestia’s sun had almost entirely set in the west and the sky was turning a deep blue. The first of Luna’s stars were starting to twinkle in the sky. Turning around the mare looked back the way she’d come. About a quarter mile away and down the slope the park was bathed in the lights of the concert stage. She glanced around for a moment and then stepped off the lit walkway and into the darkness and the bushes that dotted the park.
Coco arrived at her destination in a few seconds. Upon her arrival in Ft. Trotterdale she’d scouted out this location a couple of weeks ago. A tiny clearing in circle of low bushes on the downward slope of the hill. From the park walkway the location was hidden, and the overhanging limbs of a nearby tree meant the spot was almost invisible to aerial fliers. It was a perfect spot for tonight’s operation.
In fact the mare had been worried that the site might be perfect for other things. So upon discovering it she’d discreetly placed several monitoring wards around it a couple weeks ago. What made it a perfect shooting location also made it great rendezvous spot for romantic couples. Fortunately regular visits to the location had shown no other visitors.
Coco unslung her day pack and unzipped the main compartment. Retrieving a large, folded, light pink towel she laid it on the ground. With that accomplished she sat down on the towel and opened second compartment in the pack and started retrieving the components of a small .22lr bolt action rifle. Quickly she reassembled the 2 piece stock, remounted a scope with its quick-detach mount, and screwed a suppressor to the threaded end of the muzzle. Finally she fitted a 10rd magazine loaded with subsonic ammunition.
The rifle was variant of what she used in biathlon. It’s straight-pull and short action throw meant it was almost as fast in aimed fire as a semi-automatic. However with subsonic ammunition the suppressed rifle eerily quiet. Just the sound of the firing pin dropping and a soft puutut sound. Even the working of bolt was muted by the use of thin coating of polymer on critical spots of the bolt handle to minimize the clacking of metal parts against each other. This was Coco’s Whispering Death.
However tonight the mare wasn’t killing anypony. Instead her targets was 6 inanimate lights in a parking lot and a lone security camera. From her position she could see the back parking lot of Brindle, Gallop and Trot Fabrication.
RESF had learned last year that this business was being used as a small base of operations for a changeling cell loyal to Queen Chrysalis. Tonight the RESF was going to raid it. The main objective of this mission was to capture as many changelings as possible. Coco would have 35 seconds too neutralize all of her assigned targets before a wave 10 pegasus ponies landed in the darkened area she was going to create. From there they’d advance through the back service entrance while other teams entered the building from other directions.
Now situated Coco checked the time and donned a lightweight, encrypted radio and hands-free headset with a mike. She toggled the power and checked in.
“White Petrel to Nest. I’ve found my roosting place for the night. Over.” White Petrel was her call sign for tonight. Nest was the temporary command center set up nearby. She could hear other teams giving their status updates as they moved into position as well. After a minute or so Coco heard’s Rarity voice on the comm-link.
“White Petrel this Swan. So good to hear that you’re in your roosting place. Standby for further instructions. Over.”
“Roger that Swan. White Petrel standing by. Over.”
The earth pony scanned her assigned targets again with a small rangefinder. She’d taken numerous readings before, but she was methodical in her preparation. Behind her in the distance the first band was taking the stage. It’s noise would drown most of the sounds from tonight’s op.
At T-minus 1 minute Coco cycled the bolt and chambered the first subsonic cartridge. She had 7 targets and 10rds in the magazine. That gave her 3 second attempts. She flicked the safety off and shoulder the rifle at T-minus 30 seconds.
“White Petrel to Nest. Ready. Over.”
“Understood White Petrel.” Rarity said. “Beginning final count now.”
Her commander started counting down. Coco settled illuminated scope reticle on 1st target. A security camera mounted over the back entrance. It was 128yds away and was the furthest target. She had to squarely hit the lens to disable it for sure. Slowly Rarity counted.
“15, 14, 13–” Coco made a final adjustments to her aim. Fortunately this area was well sheltered from the ocean breezes.
“12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6–” Coco took a deep breath and let it half out. She was now mentally run on effectively a pre-programmed script in her mind. Her entire world was the scope reticle. Gently her finger came to rest on the trigger.
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1–” One was the go the signal for her. She pressed the trigger. Puutut. The rifle had almost no recoil and she observed lens shatter and camera droop on its mount. Without thinking Coco worked bolt of rifle. It hissed and ejected the first fired casing. Already her reticle was settling on the first light in parking lot. It was a 115yds away.
Her and Rarity had gone over this part of the operation numerous times. Coco had even taken a video of the lot from this location and on the big screen TV back in her bungalow she’d done dry runs over and over with an unloaded rifle to determine the fastest way of tackling her assigned targets. She had 6 lights. Two sets on either side of the entrance that needed to be eliminated. Eventually Coco settled on engaging the each of the lights at same distance. This meant a side-to-side motion but it seemed to be the easiest for her.
Puutut. The first light exploded. The second she saw the flash of the unit failing she was already shifting to acquire her next target. Puutut. Another light went out. Coco was running on muscle memory now. Years of practice on the range, in competition, and in the field were now guiding her as she worked to eliminate her targets.
Puutut. Puutut. Puutut. She worked the action one last time and settled the reticle on the final light. Instinctively she knew she was ahead of schedule. No reason to botch this last shot. She took another breath. Let it half out she pressed the trigger one last time.
Puutut. The final assigned target went dark. Coco cycled the action and chambered another round. She wasn’t assigned to support or covering fire, but if trouble arrived she’d do what she could.
With a .22lr rifle firing subsonic ammunition. It wasn’t much but she’d wait until this team had entered. She activated her mike.
“White Petrel to Flock. I’ve made a nice place for you to roost tonight. Over.” After a second she heard the voice of the mare in charge of her team.
“White Petrel. This is Flock. We see our roosting area. Looks nice. Thanks for making it. Over.”
A few seconds later a group of shadows came swooping down out of the darkening skies and landed in the area of blackness she’d created. Through her scope she watched them quickly form up and advance on the service entrance door. A few seconds later they were through.
Coco activated her mike again. “White Petrel to Swan. I’m leaving my roost and heading back to the Nest. Over.”
“White Petrel. Swan confirms. Safe travels darling. See you back at the nest. Over.”
Quickly Coco picked up the spent shell casings. They were easy to see even in the dark on the light towel she was sitting on. Also the rifle had neatly ejected them between her legs. Quickly she removed the magazine, cycled action and ejected the one unfired cartridge. Using a corner of the towel she gripped the now somewhat toasty suppressor and unscrewed it. Stowing it in its compartment the earth pony finished breaking down the rifle. She heard nothing from building which was just the way things should be. Stowing the rifle Coco folded up the towel and returned it to the day-pack. Then she got up and headed back to the walkway. Finding it empty she wandered off into the night.
Alternate Source(FA)
I was just thinking why the heck would she not rest her rifle. Doesn’t matter how light the gun or recoil, if I had to take a shot farther then 50yds/45m I would never shoot it off hand. And something as small as a light? Yeah, I’m putting my pack down and maybe even wrapping the sling round my arm.
The optics mount seems a bit high, but maybe anthro pony facial structure requires somewhat different ergonomics.
Just a couple of things bug me–no pun intended. In her position I’d police my brass. Leave nothing for anyone else in the area to find who might investigate, whether it’s local law enforcement or some team the Changeling organization sends out. Also, if I had to engage numerous small targets quickly with a rifle, I’d go prone and use my ruck as a rest, field conditions permitting. And an organization like this wouldn’t issue off-the-shelf commercial ammo for this–it’d be “sterile,” maybe with no headstamp to be traced, in the event someone who really shouldn’t comes into possession of a fired casing in the course of an investigation. The rifle’s probably sterile too, with no serial number or identifying markings on any component.
…also, in a magitech world like this, their suppressors probably have enchanted baffles to slow the expansion of propellant gasses and might work better than ours do.