Asphalt and Trouble

by Coconutswallow

Rating: teen
Tags: Main 6, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Trixie, Crossover, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 4492

Applejack has to prevent the last motorcycle manufacturer in the country from being ruined by its ruthless vice president and stop a plot to ruin the reputation of the biker gangs in the Sinks.

As the last motorcycle manufacturer in the country, Sparkle Motors is the last bastion of existence for the bikers of the Sinks. Unfortunately for them, the company's vice president, Trixie, is fond of neither bikers nor their mode of transport and moves to takeover the company and turn it to the production of hovercars by killing its owner and smearing the reputation of the gangs.

She has two loose ends, however: Applejack, the leader of the Russet biker gang, and Twilight Sparkle, the rightful inheritor of Sparkle Motors. Between the two of them, they must stop corporate betrayal and prevent the outlawing of those who choose to ride on wheels.

(A crossover with Lucasart's Full Throttle)

Published 2013-01-19 11:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-01-19 11:50:01 UTC

Prologue: Bum Deal

Semi-solid petroleum-- known by most as asphalt. Twilight was very familiar with it, especially its smell. Used to, all the smell did was make her queasy, but very close contact with something has a way of making one change the way they look at it. It had scarred her and now it’s smell brought entirely different feelings and very distinctive memories...

“Lulamoon, you’re dumber than dirt!”

“Mr. Sparkle, seriously! I’m trying to save this company!”

Twilight couldn’t say she was too surprised at the argument that was ensuing. She didn’t expect her father’s vice president to ever relent pushing her plan for changes, though her ever increasing insistence was odd. It was a testament to Trixie's business know-how and killer instincts that Twilight’s father kept her around. He always consulted her before making a major decision involving the company, but this time he was completely close-minded. Even Twilight, who rarely got involved in business affairs, had tried to persuade him and failed. If she couldn’t do it then it was never going to happen.

Shifting in her seat, she tried to re-concentrate on reading her book. The Science of Advanced Propulsion Technology was not something easily enjoyed when one was sharing a backseat with two loud, arguing business executives, even if she was in a spacious hover-limo.

“There will be no company left if you go through with that plan, Moon, at least none of the company that I founded!”

Trixie huffed. “Mr. Sparkle, where’s the respect I deserve in these matters? You can’t tell me that this meeting is going to run smoothly with the company’s current course. The shareholders are all concerned. There have already been numerous threats from some of our top holders that they’re going to pull out unless we change our business strategy by the end of the year.”

“Moon, you’ve had my respect before because you weren’t pitching crazy at me! How many times do I have to tell you, Sparkle Motors makes motorcycles. Always has and always will. I’ve already started expanding into a small line of luxury hovercars. That’s as far as I plan on going.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We both know those dabblings are nothing but—”

“Look, I know where this going, Moon. You go down a road enough times and you start to recognize it from a distance. Well let me stop you before you get ahead of yourself. This company is not catering to a dying market and this company is not going to end up in the red if we don’t concentrate on the exploding market of hovercars.”

There was a thick silence. Twilight looked up from her book. She wasn’t about to miss a stare-off. The eyes of Trixie Lulamoon and Crescent Sparkle took up arms, with the two taking their usual stances. The vice president with the narrowed eyes and the owner with the furrowed brow. After several long seconds, Trixie looked away. Twilight smirked and returned to reading.

“I promise you,” said Crescent, “the bike market will never die. The gangs aren’t going anywhere. They’re long-lasting, loyal customers. Something we can count on until this world boils over.”

There was another pause before Trixie broke the silence. “It would be a shame to squander the new technology your daughter has developed.”

“I’m not squandering it. I’m using it in the luxury line.”

“Haven’t we been over this, Mr. Sparkle?”

Twilight looked at her father and chewed on her lower lip. She couldn’t help trying one last time. “She has a point, Dad. What I’ve designed increases a hover engine’s efficiency by upwards of seventy-three percent in comparison with the top companies in the market. If we change our production to concentrate on say…” She gestured searchingly.

“Minivans,” said Trixie.

“Minivans,” continued Twilight, “then we’d dominate the market. And…” She hesitated, knowing the response she was going to get if she continued. “I’d be able to devote more of my time to coming up with hover innovations.”

Crescent rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand what your latest obsession with hover tech is. Whatever happened to the wide-eyed fascination of the motorcycle engine?”

“It made way for progress,” said Trixie. “An example this company should follow!”

“Oh, just pipe it!” Crescent glanced at both of the mares flanking him. “Both of you! I’ve--”

With a lurch, the car dipped and the sound of an engine roared overhead. Twilight watched as a motorcycle drove down the hood of the car and the limo jumped back to its regular height off the ground. In a blink, the surrounding road was filled with bikers. A few eyed the car with pursed lips and hard eyes before zooming past it.

Trixie whispered something sharply. It was probably a curse.

“Now that’s a gang!” Crescent smiled widely as he watched the bikes ride off into the distance. There was a shine in his eyes and with a start, he sat up. “That’s exactly what we need! We need a representative of the gangs, some bikers to really show the shareholders what I’m talking about. They’ll show them what a customer base we have in them.” He pressed the button for the driver intercom in front of him. “Follow those bikers!”

“Bringing those sort of ponies to a respectable business meeting?” The vice president gaped. “We’d be fortunate to convince security not to shoot them on sight! Not to mention their rebellious nature. How could we count on them to represent themselves honestly? How are we even going to convince them to come with us?”

Crescent beamed. “Leave all that to me, Lulamoon. As I’m sure you know, I speak their language, and if they’re a truly respectable bunch, then we can count on them.”

The limo wasn’t fast enough to keep the bikers in sight but there were few turn-offs on Highway 9 and they shortly spotted a small bar right by the road with a horde of motorcycles parked in front of it.

As the limo pulled in, Crescent glanced at his other two other passengers “You two best stay here. Leave this to a kindred spirit.” He winked, hopped out of the car, and walked into the bar.

Trixie sighed. “Your father is going to get himself killed.”

Twilight watched the bar door and shook her head. “He’s reckless sometimes, sure, but he’s safe in there. The biker never really left him.”

“Yes, well, when he retires perhaps he can spend his last years enjoying the wind on his mane again, but until then, he’s got a legitimate business to run, one which he seems intent to run into the ground.” Trixie rubbed her forehead.

“Miss Lulamoon, he’s a stubborn stallion.” Twilight moved to take the seat next to the VP. “You’re not going to change his mind. I could have told you that as soon as I tried to talk to him and got stonewalled. In fact, I think I did. What was that, months ago now?”

“Yes, well, I had to at least try. However...” The business mare slowly looked up at Twilight. “There is still a chance to stop this. It will require subterfuge, but we can force his hooves.”

Twilight shook her head and looked away. “No. No, I can’t. I agree with you, Miss Lulamoon. Motorcycles are a thing of the past or, at least they should be, and Dad’s taking a big risk by not following the market, but I can’t betray him. Mom intended to stick with him until the end and so do I.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

Twilight's spine tingled at the tone used. It sounded like a threat. She whipped her head back. “What? Why?”

Trixie shrugged. “No reason. It’s simply unfortunate. Ah, there they are.”

“Who?” Twilight followed Trixie’s eyes as she looked out the car’s back window. Another troop of bikers were pulling into the parking lot. “Who are they?”

Trixie pulled out a pocketwatch. “And on time? That's better than last time at least. Seriously, you'd think at least one of them would have a watch.”

"What's going on here?" asked Twilight, frowning deeply.

“You can’t tell?” Trixie gestured back towards the window.

Twilight looked at the bikers again. They were dogs, rather large, ugly looking dogs. Before she had time to observe anymore she felt a sharp prick on her neck. “Ow!” Recoiling back, she saw Trixie holding an empty syringe with her magic. “What... did you... do?” She clutched at the back of her neck as thoughts started to blur and her vision dimmed.

“You ask too many questions." Trixie put the syringe back in her suit pocket. "But if you must know, I just made the boldest move of my entire career.” She studied Twilight’s wide eyes and gaping mouth. “Oh, I suppose you mean with the syringe. It’s nothing serious. You’ll just be unconscious in the next few seconds and then I’m plunking you right in the paws of my new business associates. Just a little more time... and... there we go."

Twilight's head fell back against her seat and everything faded.

Mare with Wheels

Trouble. If there was one thing Applejack learned in her early years it was that trouble comes when it’s least expected. So her solution was to always expect it. She was good at doing that. She had the instincts for it. She wouldn’t still be alive if she didn’t.

But there’s some trouble that will always spring you from behind. Things that blindside you with such force that you have no choice but to let it roll over you.

That has yet to happen to Applejack, but there was one time it got close...

There was nothing but beautiful, endless road ahead of her. The desert wind rushed against her mane, brushing up into the sleeves of her jacket and running down her back. There was no sound but the running of her bike’s motor and of those behind her. It was times like these that Applejack felt she could almost be poetic. She was leading a herd of free spirits, of souls who didn’t care for their destination but wanted to enjoy a journey. They were wild, untamed animals of the road. They traveled light, took only the jobs they needed and never bent to life’s rules. Where was a pen and paper when she needed it?

She broke from her introspection when she spotted something down the road, an obstruction. She gained on it and her eyes narrowed. It was a hover-car, what’s more, a hover-limo, some sort of bigwig taking up space on her road. The thing was an absurdly large and its polished, plastic, white exterior gleamed in the sun, just asking to be taught some respect. She decided to oblige.

With a rev of the motor and a jerk back on the handles, her bike jumped off the ground, finding purchase on the back of the limo. She was pleased to find the car long enough for her to enjoy the superior view for a few moments before quickly descending down across the hood, lining her bike up perfectly to knock of its fancy ornament before returning to her asphalt territory. With the pecking order established, she slowed down waiting for her gang to catch up before pushing her bike back into cruising speed.

As much as she wanted to return to enjoying the open road, they were fast approaching their brief stopping point of the day. They had a score to settle and a bar up the road was the mutually decided on battlefield. A small wooden building by a rock outcropping appeared on the horizon. It had the word Kickstand printed in black on a wooden sign above its entrance, a feature that did nothing to make its drab, grey exterior anymore inviting. She made her way to the flat dirt patch in front of it that passed as a parking lot. She got off her bike and gave her legs a few quick stretches while she watched the rest of her gang pull in. Decked in leather and with their tough faces on, they looked more than ready for the fight ahead of them. She had little doubt some serious rump was going to be kicked in the next hour. She led them into the bar to wait for their rivals.

The inside of the joint was everything she expected given its shabby outside. There were a few tables and chairs that looked like they had seen better days, a piano that looked broken, and a few fake stuffed animals combined with pointless pictures on the walls to rob the place of any decorative theme. Not that she minded. She had never been in the place before, but it was no worse than any other bar she had ever been in, and that was good enough for her. She walked up to the brown stallion with piercings all over his face who seemed to pass as the bartender of the place.

“What can I getcha?” he asked, watching all the other ponies take seats around his bar.

Applejack gestured at her companions. “A round of beer for everypony here.”

The bartender’s eyes widened and he grinned. “Score! Finally, some real money.” He started pulling mugs out from under the counter.

“Yeah, the last of it,” said Applejack, frowning as she emptied her pockets onto the counter.

“So I guess your not gonna order three more for your favorite advisor?”

She rolled her eyes. The Russets didn’t have any sort of formal hierarchy beyond her being the leader, but there was one who liked to think he was second-in-command. “Ah’m thinking about ordering none for you, Braeburn. I remember our last scuffle. Ah’m surprised any of your ribs survived. You need to be as sharp as you can be.”

“Psh.” Braeburn shook his head. “Everypony here knows that you fight better with some drinks loosening your joints.” He grabbed a mug in his hooves as two were passed down the bar. “How many of ‘em do ya think there’ll be, anyway?”

Applejack shrugged. “Ah’d say about twelve. Nothin’ we can’t handle.”

Braeburn nodded. “That’s not too bad. Though you know how long it’s been since that last fight. Might be a bit rusty.”

“That’s only cause no one’s been dumb enough to mess with us till now.” Applejack’s mouth turned to a lopsided grin. “We have this in the tank.”

“Alright, which one of you ran over my car?”

Silence crept over the bar as everyone turned to look at a lone stallion standing at the doorway. The wrinkles around his eyes and spots of grey in his deep blue mane betrayed his age. He scanned the room, giving everyone a hard stare.

“That’d be me.” Applejack took a swig of her beer, slammed it onto the bar, and turned to look the stallion dead in the eye, swiping her foreleg across her mouth.

He walked slowly up to her. “Why did you do it?”

The bar filled with the sounds of rustling leather. Applejack waved a hoof at her gang, easing them down. There was no need for violence yet. “It was in my way. Ah made my point, mister. Ah’d suggest you just continue on your merry way. Ah’m not lookin’ to cause anymore trouble with you.”

The stallion’s hard stare slowly gave way to a smirk. “I like your style. Not looking to rough up anyone who doesn’t deserve it but still making it clear who's in control of the roads around here. What gang do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

Applejack cocked an eyebrow at the change of demeanor in the stallion. “This here is the Russets. I’m the leader of the gang, Applejack.”

“The Russets? Well I’ll be.” The stallion stepped back and looked at everypony. “I guess no one’s left from before. I don’t recognize any of you.”

Applejack tilted her head slightly. “You knew the gang from before?”

“Sure did.” The stallion took a seat next to her. “Got in a few tiffs with them, even. Nothing serious, just me and Gala butting heads.”

“Wait just a second. You knew the old lady?” Applejack leaned in closer to the mysterious newcomer.

“Sure did. I used to cruise the roads without a care, too, back in the glory days.” The stallion grinned from ear-to-ear. “Saw quite a bit of her. Usually when I was in trouble.”

“Cut the gas!” Braeburn slammed the counter with his hoof, leaning over to look at the stallion past his leader. “You’re—”

“Crescent Sparkle! Glad to meet you!” Crescent waved.

Applejack tilted her hat up and sat back in her stool, her eyes wide. She thought back on the few pictures she had seen of the legendary figure and it clicked into place.

Braeburn turned to his companions. “Hey, ya’ll, this here is Crescent Sparkle! The one and only!”

The occasional narrow glances that shot in the stallion’s direction instantly turned to raised-eyebrow stares. Applejack could sense a stampede about to happen and decided to get the drop on it. She raised a hoof up and held it in front of her. “Now ya’ll don’t be crowding him. We’re honored to have him here but ya’ll just cool your engines.”

Crescent chuckled and nodded at the bikers before turning back to their leader. “Thanks. I think I might be getting too old to be crowded around. Besides, I’m no celebrity.”

“Maybe not a celebrity,” said Applejack, “but ya’ll have nothin’ but the highest respect from us. Your bikes are all anyone uses around here, and not just because you’re one of the last left. They’re quality. You made ‘Sparkle’ a name worth havin’ on a bike.”

Crescent snorted and let out a short laugh. “Yeah, that was a tough sell. My wife tried to convince me that I needed to rename the company but I told her that I wasn’t going to make anything I didn’t get to put my name on. It was an uphill battle at first, but I earned that name some recognition.”

Applejack smiled. “No name meaner on the roads.” She waved over the bartender. “Hey, I need some whiskey for my friend over here.”

“Oh, thank you, but I can’t stay long I’m afraid.” Crescent leaned his foreleg on the counter. “I actually wanted to make a business proposition.”

With a bang, the door to the bar flew open, revealing yet another older pony, this time a light blue mare with another graying mane. She wildly looked around the bar until her eyes landed on Crescent. “Mr. Sparkle, they got her!”

“What?” Crescent jumped to his hooves.

The mare pointed frantically out the door. “A gang of bikers just pulled in and kidnapped your daughter!”

With a gasp, Crescent ran outside. Applejack was close on his tail. She was just in time to look down the road and see the stragglers of the retreating gang. The big wheels on their bikes were unmistakable.

“Rottwheelers!” she cursed.

“We’ve got to go after them!” yelled Crescent, already making his way to the door of his limo.

“But…” The older mare hesitated before getting into the car. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Not if we come along,” Applejack spoke up.

“Thank you!” Crescent nodded at Applejack and urged his companion into the hovercar. It lifted off the ground and zipped down the road.

Applejack ran back into the bar. “Alright, Russets, mount up! Damn dogs we were supposed to beat the tar out of just ran off with Sparkle’s daughter. We’re goin’ after ‘em!”

With speed that did their leader proud, the gang launched from their seats and ran to their bikes. She led their charge, hopping onto her bike and sticking the key in the ignition, but instead of getting a thrill from the beautiful startup of the bike’s engine she became confused at the simple, ineffectual click.

Her gang’s bikes roared to life around her. She tried again. Click.

Braeburn pulled up next to her. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not startin’.” Applejack clenched her teeth. “Go on, get after ‘em! I’ll catch up as soon as I fix it.”

With a nod, Braeburn made a motion for the rest of the gang to follow him. Dirt kicked up around the parking lot as the gang sped out.

“Come on, McGhee, what’s the matter?” Applejack patted her bike as she tried the ignition one more time.

“It’s been a victim o’ payback.”

Before Applejack even had time to turn around, a large force pushed her off her bike. Her chin slammed into the ground. Something dug into her side and pushed her, rolling her onto her back.

“Deadpaw?” Applejack gaped. There was no mistaking the mangled left paw of the large bulldog standing over her, not to mention the color scheme of his fur, which made it look like he had just rolled around in mud and jumped in a pile of fertilize. She wrinkled her nose. Maybe he actually did that.

“O’ course it’s me.” Deadpaw flashed his toothy, yellow grin. “I gotta grudge to settle. Ya think I was gonna run off with the rest o’ mine without finishin’ business?”

“What business?” Applejack threw her hooves up. “That was a long time ago.”

Leaning forward, Deadpaw’s smile disappeared. “Not long enough. You hurt my bike.”

“You hurt mine first!” Applejack returned the scowl.

“Yeah, but you were askin’ fo’ it. So I decided to return the favor.”

“How did ya even know which one was mine?”

Deadpaw let out a short laugh and glanced at her bike.

Applejack didn’t know what he was looking at. It was just a standard Legacy model Sparkle… with six large exhausts fanning out from the back of it and flanking the seat.

“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Guess it was kinda obvious.”

“Yeah, jus’ a bit. Now, back ta business.” Deadpaw lifted his leg and slammed it down at her head.

He was a slow one. Applejack had plenty of time to catch his paw and push it back, throwing him off balance and sending him to the ground. She used the opportunity to get to her hooves and put some distance between them. “What did you do to my bike?”

“Just relieved it o’ some essentials.” Deadpaw got up and bared his teeth. “No worse than what you did to mine.”

“Ah just removed its seat. It still ran fine.” Applejack put her bike between them and they started to slowly circle around it. “And did ya forget? You slashed mah tires!”

“You parked it outside Rottwheeler territory, what’d you think happen?” Deadpaw snorted.

“That wasn’t your territory and ya’ll know it! You just have no respect for boundaries.”

“Oh get off it! You were just bein’ stoopid, and nobody messes wit’ my bike, no matter what.”

Applejack shook her head. She didn’t know why she expected to get anywhere reasoning with a Rott. “Well?" She stopped moving and stared him down. "What are ya gonna do about it?”

Deadpaw growled and planted a paw on Applejack’s bike to launch himself over it. She didn’t want to do it but it was the best move. She shoved the bike over as soon as the paw touched. With no purchase, he fell forward and tasted dirt.

She stood over him waiting for him to roll over. Just as he did she planted a hoof in his nose. It responded well to the attack and droplets of blood shot onto his face. There was a yelp.

She shot her other hoof at his muzzle but Deadpaw brought his mangled paw up to block it. He launched his other at her face. She quickly rolled to the side and got to her hooves, watching the mutt right himself. “There’s more where that came from, sugarcube. Now why don’t ya be a good dog and forget about this stupid grudge?”

Deadpaw wiped the blood from his nose. “Not a chance. I haven’t even drawn blood yet.” He sneered.

“Look, Deadpaw,” said Applejack, lowering the brim of her hat, “if ya don’t back down now and fix my bike then your paw isn’t goin’ to be the only thing mangled.”

Chuckling, Deadpaw lowered his head and ran at her. Applejack rolled her eyes. So predictable. She ducked to the ground and felt the dog’s leg trip against her mid-section. She got up and turned her tail to him. Looking back, she waited for him to recover. Just as he got back up she planted her two front hooves into the ground, lifted her backside, and shot her two back hooves straight into the dog’s face. There was a satisfying crunch and she heard a hard thump as something large hit the ground.

She shook her head as she walked up to him, making sure he was unconscious. If the rest of the Rotts were as unskilled as Deadpaw then there would be no fight to participate in when she caught up with her gang. That was disappointing.

On a hunch, she walked around to the back of the bar and found Deadpaw’s bike, just as big and ugly as she remembered it, not unlike its owner. Searching the satchel on the bike, she found two spark plugs and the wrench used to remove them. Simple, but effective. Not something she would have expected from Deadpaw. She continued to root around and when she found a funnel, a sudden thought came to her. She unscrewed the bike’s gas cap, stuck the funnel in, grabbed several hoof-fulls of sand and dirt, and dumped them into the tank. She was tempted to take out its fuel filter too but she didn’t have time and even a Rott bike deserved a little respect.

She quickly got to work making her bike whole again. Sucking in a deep breath, she stuck the key in the ignition and the engine came to life. Whispering a thank you, she sped down the road.

With a long head start to catch up on, Applejack had time to think. Why would the Rottwheelers kidnap Sparkle’s daughter? They’ve been known to do some of the craziest things out of any of the gangs in the Sinks but kidnapping? They had to know who she was and planned on ransoming her. At least that made some sense. Applejack’s mouth twisted. Still, why do it in front of such obvious witnesses in a situation that you could only barely get a headstart? The Rotts were pretty dumb but not complete idiots. Was there a reason they wanted to keep her behind or was it just Deadpaw’s idea?

Shaking her head, Applejack decided that there was not much to go on. She just had to catch up with her gang in time to help. As she put her goggles on and cranked her bike up to full speed, she couldn’t help feeling that she was about to be a part of something... a part of something big.