Red Gold

by TheRussianBrony

Rating: teen
Tags: Braeburn, Big Macintosh, Applejack, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Adventure
Length: 12465

Sweet Apple Acres has taken a turn for the worst. Applejack needs to decide whether or not to risk a trip to Appleoosa to get the extra bits.

The Apples are working hard to try to stay clear of debt. Unfortunately, if they don't sell enough apples in the short time they have left, they will have to sell a part of their farm. In their favor, their cousin Braeburn has heard of their misfortune and given them a feasible solution.

Published 2013-04-15 07:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-15 07:50:01 UTC

Red Gold

Red Gold

Written by TheRussianBrony

Story concept and editing by Worldenterer and Kirawolf590

The day was fresh and the orchard was singing to be bucked. Applejack looked over the unyielding rows of apple trees, their majestic trunks going far over the hills. Today was going to be a day for apple-buckin'.

She trotted down to the barn where she located her wooden bins; the ones she always used for catching falling apples. Big Macintosh would be there to help her later in the day when he finished poking around town for repairs that needed to be done on the very barn that was holding their livelihoods. He would be back in time to take care of the cattle while Applejack tended to the sheep.

About an hour after Applejack had started to buck apples the sun began to peak, the usual comforting warmth was replaced with burning hot discomfort. Applejack wiped the sweat from her brow and continued to buck, as all honorable Apples do. *Buck*, *fall*; *Buck*, *fall*; *Buck*, *fall*. The monotony of the task would have been unbearable for any normal pony. For Applejack however, it was simply a part of life, for she had been doing farm labor since she was younger than Applebloom. Ponies that were used to working on such farms quickly learned how to think deeply, and Applejack was no exception.

When the sun was at a 90 degree angle to the earth, Applejack decided that it was time for a break, and went home for some prickly cider soda. She didn't even get as far as the end of the orchard when she ran into Big Mac. She felt she had no chance of seeing him earlier than the beginning of the eve. Giving her little time to think, Big Mac trotted up to her and began to speak.

“AJ, we got problems.” He said taking a small breath before allowing her to speak.

“What's goin' on Big Mac? Is the farm on fire?! I can swear this sun will be the end of us! Or maybe is. . .” Applejack was interrupted by the great, red stallion.

“AJ, we're too far in debt to buy anythin'. In 2 years we will need to sell parts of our land, just so we can eat.” Big Mac held a gaze of genuine worry. Applejack was silenced for mere seconds that floated away as slowly as a balloon on a cold winter day.

“How brother? How did everythin' come to this? We can't sell the farm, not even a little! It's been in our family for generations, since 'fore Granny Smith. It was a charter from the princess herself! We have to try something to get around this.” She said with the same worry her brother had assumed. The two distressed ponies had no ideas, and returned to work shortly. Big Mac spent the rest of the day taking care of the cattle. Applejack ended up bucking an entire row more than she had originally intended, just so she could put this financial mess aside from her already preoccupied mind.

The next day Applejack was awoken by a joyful Applebloom jumping on her resting form.

“Wake up AJ, wake up!” Applebloom shouted excitedly. Applejack did so automatically, and gave her sister a forced smile. She didn't know how to break the news to the tiny filly; the news would surely bring her down. When Applebloom could tell Applejack was awake and ready, she ran off, probably going to do more things related to acquiring cutie marks.

Applejack trotted downstairs to breakfast where Granny Smith had cooked up a wonderful combination of oats and roasted trail mix. She quickly shoveled down the food, and ran to get to work grabbing a bottle of milk and a bottle of water on the way out. A few swigs from the milk, and AJ was ready for the first part of the day.

She was halfway done with the first row of the day when she spotted an earthy brown stallion. He was wearing a thick gray cloak covered with many tears, mud stains, and overall signs of common use. He was standing on the hill-top of the South Western Field, waiting menacingly. He didn't seem very nice, but he certainly seemed a dependable. Applejack strode to the hill upon which the stallion stood. He looked at her, and then looked at something in his cloak.

“I assume you must be Ms. Applejack.” He said in an even and authoritative tone.

“Why yes, I most certainly am. To what do I owe the pleasure Mr. . . .” Applejack fumbled with the words.

“Call me 'Courier'. I have come here with a message from Appleloosa. Your cousin Braeburn wanted to pass down some valuable information.” Applejack's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected anything from Braeburn to be so important that he sent a private courier to deliver the mail. Finally she nodded her head, and took the note. It seemed fairly small for such an urgent form of communication. The courier waited while Applejack read the note to herself.

Dear AJ,

I know about your troubles with Sweet Apple Acres lately, and have found a way I can help y'all out. The apple market in Appleloosa is thriving. Ever since the cherry processing plantation at Dodge broke down, ponies have been looking for apples as an alternative. We don't have enough apples to provide for ourselves and the surrounding villages. If your family could come down here and bring some of your product, you could make a fortune, pull yourselves outta debt, and even pull off some profit!
If you want to do business, tell the courier 'yay', or if you decline, tell him 'nay'. If you do happen to want to do business, I'll be waiting for you at Appleloosa train station in 2 days’ time; should give you some time to get all them apples!
Sincerely,

Cousin Braeburn

Applejack looked up from the note, deep in thought. She was fighting inside of her head. On one hoof, this business could get them out of debt. On the other hoof, this would be a risky business venture. Carting all of the apples they have to Appleloosa would be pretty expensive, so they would need to get something out of it.

Usually Applejack would never have made such a rash decision without her brother, but this was a special case; and she knew he would agree.

“Yay.” She sighed at the courier pony, looking at him with a serious, concerned expression. He slowly nodded, turned, and began to walk into the horizon. Applejack stood there watching him leave, while she thought about the things that would need to be prepared for this undertaking.

When the courier pony was but a speck in the distance, Applejack started walking to the barn where Big Mac was making due with the scraps they had lying around; attempting to rebuild a section where the roof had collapsed.

“Hey Big Mac! Come down here for a secon' would ya?” Applejack yelled over the hammering of nails. Big Mac heard her and climbed off of the ladder. He looked at her expectantly while she thought of the best way to break the news to him.

“Alrigh', I was buckin' apples when this stallion showed up outta nowhere. Turns out he was a courier pony from Appleloosa! Braeburn sent me this here letter, tellin' me that business in their town is great! Anyway, I told the courier to pass the message that we are goin' to come down there. Braeburn said he'd meet us at the train station in two days’ time. That gives us one day to load the apples we have and set off on our way.” Big Mac held his straight gaze. He seemed unshaken by the idea; instead he seemed to be thinking. Applejack could swear she heard gears turning.

Big Mac finally spoke, “But AJ, what about the farm? Who'll take care of it? And what if we don't sell that many apples at Appleloosa? AJ, I don't think you thought too hard about this, but I'll follow your lead.” She nodded and thought about Big Mac's words. Somepony would need to take care of the farm while they were gone.

Applejack decided to go and see if any of her friends could do it. She called them together for lunch, so that she could maybe score a house sitter, or be told where she could find one. When all six of them were sitting around in Sugarcube Corner, Applejack finally spoke up.

“Alright y'all, I called you down here to see if any of you would like to help me. The task is easy; all you gotta do is look over the barn while Big Mac and I run down to Appleloosa for a week or so, to sell some apples. I tell you, I really need this favor. The farm ain't doin' too good, and we need the business.” Applejack looked around her friends, hoping to not see any disgust in their expressions. Luckily for her, she could only spot smiles and hear giggling from Pinkie Pie.

“I-I'll do it. If you want, that is.” A soft voice spoke.

Rainbow Dash exclaimed, “Yeah me too! I can take care of a barn, don't you worry AJ, me'n'Shy will take care of it!” Applejack breathed a sigh of relief as she felt the genuine interest in her request. She thanked all of her friends and paid for their treats, it was the least she could do to thank them for always being there for her.

The day passed fairly quickly. While Applejack was seeing about a house sitter, Big Mac left for the train station and ordered a train-car to be reserved for their apples. He ordered a ticket on a specific type of train, one that ran on its own, and wasn't pony powered. The rest of their day, both Applejack and Big Mac loaded up the train-car with apples, and packed their own things. By the end of the day, the train-car was so full of apples that the train had gained several tons in weight! Fortunately for the family, they had paid for the car prior to loading it, making it impossible for the train ponies to charge extra. The sun had nearly finished setting when the two finally took to their bunks in the passenger wagon. This train ride would last the whole night, and through the next evening. Giving a small prayer to Celestia, and Luna, Applejack faded into sleep.

Just as her eyes were beginning to close they were jerked open by the start of the train engine, and the slow build of the motor setting a pattern. Applejack decided she was too tired to care, and forced herself to go to sleep.

Several hours later, Applejack was once again blasted out of her well-earned sleep by a colossal lurch. The baggage she had placed on the racks above was sent flying off, straight onto her bunk. The unfortunate event left the poor mare winded, and with a bashed hoof. Luckily the heavy luggage missed her head, but the pain woke her up like a house fire! What in the wide world of Equis?! This was the only thought she had in her mind. There were stops from Ponyville to Appleloosa, but this wasn't the train station. The train slowed down over many hoofometers of track as to not blow by the station, or harm the passengers inside. This was clearly an emergency brake.

Her curiosity overpowered her and she slipped out of bed, minding her injured hoof. She decided to check on her brother before she did anything else, in hope that he would know what the hay was going on.

Big Mac met her half way, in the center corridor. He was holding a .44 revolver, which she eyed cautiously.

“Brother, why do you have your gun out?” She questioned.

“Trains don't stop like this unless they got a reason, an' all the reasons they would stop require a gun.” He responded.

“So you think these are bandits or somethin'? Those scary ponies with the masks and dynamite?” Applejack chuckled openly.

“Eeyup.” He said monotonously. Their sentiment was broken when Big Mac pointed his hoof towards an open window at the end of the corridor. The two watched in utter disbelief as the train car on the other side was pulling away, by an unknown force. It took them an even shorter time to run over and investigate. They looked on as the car began to slow once again and before coming to a stop. Big Mac's heavy breathing being the only sound in the compartment. Applejack looked through the window as best she could, and saw two ponies open the giant cargo doors that held all kinds of provisions, and trade goods. Their apple car was one of the ones being opened.

She crawled back to her resting area, picked up the suitcase that had fallen on her, and opened it up. She pulled out her trusted shotgun. It was a gift from her grandfather, given a long time ago. It was in good condition and was professionally sawn off, in a way that would make Samuel Colt proud. Applejack couldn't remember the last time she traveled without that piece; this was almost as hard as trying to remember when she had last legitimately needed to use it.

She rejoined her brother at the window.

She looked at him and asked, “So wha’do we do now?”

He returned, “It’s alright AJ, there looks to be only two of them out there, ‘bout 300 feet away. I'll take 'em out. You, go and see if you can find anything in the conductor's cabin, maybe he is in trouble.” Applejack nodded in agreement, and dashed off in the direction of the conductor’s cabin.

In the meantime, Big Mac held the revolver in his mouth, doing his best to aim at the bandit closest to him. *CRACK*, a piece of hot lead flew at blistering speeds into the scruff of the bandit. Big Mac watched as his form crumpled down into a laying position. It wasn't very clear from his perspective, but Big Mac hoped he didn't kill him. His thoughts were interrupted by the return fire. Seemingly out of nowhere another seven renegades appeared shooting off long rifles; he didn't stand a chance. Big Mac decided to dig in, and keep them from the remaining sections of the train, at least until Applejack could start up the train again. Two bandits began to creep up to the passenger car, and Big Mac sent another bullet in their general direction. He heard a yelp and the disappearing sound of hoof steps.

Applejack was running down the thin corridors of the train cars, dodging curious ponies as they attempted to find out what was happening. She finally made it to the conductor’s cabin. It was a dilapidated room filled with rusty implements, and pictures of mares in bikini outfits, Applejack face-hoofed in her mind. There were now occasional gunshots blasting from behind her, they were distant, and she hoped that her brother was alright.

Holding her shotgun close, and keeping her hoof on the trigger, Applejack began to venture deeper into the cabin. A loud hiss startled her and she turned around to point her shotgun at a release valve. Looking at it, she laughed to herself. This was immediately interrupted by muffled screaming behind her. Attempting to turn around fast she accidentally bumped her shotgun on the release valve which stopped her just enough for the large stallion dressed in a caravan outfit and black bandanna to buck her side with serious force. As she landed on the ground with a thud and squeal of pain, she was surprised that his hooves had not broken any ribs.

Scrambling to get to her discarded weapon, Applejack was kicked in the face, hard. Her vision became blurry and her light sensitivity spiked, all of this was accompanied by a high pitched whine in her ears. She recovered quickly and retaliated by swiping the hooves of the pony out from under him. He landed on his muzzle, and was speedily slammed with one of her high velocity, tree bucking hooves. The impact could be heard echoing in the frame of the enclosure. This hit knocked the bandit so hard, he didn't have time to scream before he flew to the other side of the car, his head slamming into the tied up train conductor. Applejack effectively jumped for her shotgun, and grabbed it just as the bandit pony began recovering from the hard hit.

She pointed the gun at his breast and put her hoof on the trigger, all the while giving him a grimacing smile.

“Untie him!” Applejack proclaimed while motioning to the conductor pony. It took the bandit a few seconds to register, first, the shotgun pointed at him, and second, the demand of the tangerine pony. He groaned and obeyed distastefully. The bandit fumbled with the wrappings and cut the train pony loose. Losing his cool, the train pony punched his captive in between his eyes. The punch wouldn't have been that devastating if AJ hadn't bucked his face earlier. However, in this situation, the punch layed the bandit out, his unconscious body rolling around on the floor like a rag-doll.

The train pony wordlessly began fumbling with the control panel, and starting the train up again. AJ just kept her gun pointed at the sleeping bandit. There were now a lot more gunshots coming from the back, and she really hoped that her brother would know when to abandon ship.

The sound of levers being pulled, a button being pressed, and the train rumbled to life. She felt herself lurch as the train sped up. Before she could stop him, the conductor jumped at the body of the train robber and sent him flying off of the train, his body disappearing in the dark of night.

“Stay off my train you thievin' varmint!” He exclaimed into the darkness. Applejack didn't believe he could hear her.

The pony pointed his gaze at her and said, much more relaxed, “Thank you very much miss, I am in your debt. However, now that we have regained control of the train, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.” Applejack understood the train pony and left.

She didn't hurry back. Her head was swimming, it was hard to breathe, and her hooves were tender. A lot of the ponies in the passenger cars simply waited out the ordeal and assumed they were safe after the train restarted. Suddenly, she heard a groan coming from the general direction of her room; the car was too dark to make out anything. She hurried her trot, but ended up slipping in a sticky red liquid. It was only a small puddle, but she knew better than to assume that whatever pony was bleeding was in good condition. She blindly followed the groans, and walked straight into Big Mac.

“AJ help me patch this bullet hole.” He said with a wince. Applejack looked on in horror as she noticed a dark stain on the side of Big Mac's coat. The bleeding was clotting, but still taking a lot out of the sizable stallion. Luckily with Fluttershy as a friend, Applejack learned a few medical tricks that would come in handy.

“Alrigh' big brother, why don't you crash on the bed right here.” She said pointing to her own cot. He happily obliged, and layed on the suspended mattress. She went to go grab some bandages from her suitcase which was still on the floor. After grabbing some gauze, she slapped it onto both of Big Mac's sides. She was praising Celestia and Luna for their fortune; the bullet went clear through Big Mac, it didn't ricochet across his ribs and turn his insides into a smoothie. The gauze was quickly saturated with the blood, but it was forming an artificial clot, blocking the rest from leaking. Once she had built up enough of a blockage, she fastened the pads down with a roll of medical bandage.

“There you go. Good as… well – eh, well good!” She said nervously. Big Mac wasn't listening, he had already fallen asleep. Tired as she was, she fell asleep on the floor next to her brother, still clutching her shotgun to her chest.

About 6 hours later, the train came to a stop once again. This however, was not what roused Applejack from her uneasy slumber. Instead, she was suddenly awakened by the scream of her brother. He was yelling excruciatingly loudly in his sleep, clearly immersed in one hell of a nightmare. She carefully brought herself up to Big Mac, and softly shook him. He too was jerked awake, and almost fell off of the cot. Had it not been for Applejack’s restraining grip, he would have. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped, but he was still a mess. The skin under his coat was a ghostly pale, and he was tired from simply struggling against his younger sibling.

“We're here you big buffoon. Let's get you somewhere with a real doctor.” Applejack calmly told her brother. He simply nodded, and stepped off of the bed. It took him a few seconds to get the balance in order to walk, but he recovered enough to walk with a supporting hoof from Applejack.

They exited the train, their physical form shocking everypony; none of whom was more surprised than Braeburn. He immediately leaped to their side and demanded an explanation.

“What in-! Mother of Celestia! What in the hay happened to y'all?!” He demanded.

“B-Bandits, they grabbed the cargo, we barely got away.” Big Mac spoke with a broken breath.

“Celestia damn those bandits! Sorry, I didn't mention them in the letter cos. They've been botherin' us for a few months now, robbin' caravans and such, but never on the rails!” Braeburn said, perplexed.

“Braeburn, Big Mac needs help.” Applejack remarked.

“I swear they get bolder every week, it's only a matter of time now before they attack the town.” He said to himself.

“Braeburn! We're bleeding out here!” Applejack emphasized.

“I swear cos, our town needs to double patrols and grab those thugs before they hurt anypony else!” Braeburn again, said solely to himself.

“BRAEBURN! Snap out of it and get us some Celestia damn help!” Applejack finally lost her patience. The stallion shut up and motioned for the two to follow him. He grabbed the other side of Big Mac, and all three walked to the law house. Inside, Braeburn led them to a section of the building where everything was curtained off with white sheets, and embroidered with red crosses.

“Nurse Candy! We need some help here!” Braeburn called out into the canvased room. With which a mare with a cream colored coat and cyan mane stepped out, and stared in surprise at the bloodied stallion. She instantly took him in, and told the other two to check in at a later time. Braeburn told Applejack that Big Mac would be fine under the care of the other pony. Applejack accepted this, and the two exited the building heading for the saloon. She had had a long trip, and needed to get something to drink.

They opened the swinging half doors and entered the building. The room was musty, smelled of booze and cigarettes, and was full of chatting ponies; most of whom were at the poker table, playing large stakes. Braeburn ordered a table and they sat down. Applejack ordered a ½ jar of moonshine whiskey, and Braeburn requested a glass of cherry wine. As the two waited, they spoke.

Applejack began, “Cousin, what the hay is wrong with you? If you knew about them bandits, why didn't you at least warn us?”

He looked down, covering his eyes with his hat and replied, “AJ, I'm sorry, I had no idea them bandits would get as bold as they did. Remember, I said they always preyed on the smaller caravans. But now I guess that market is so dry, they're goin' after the big fish.”

AJ continued her questioning, “Alright! Let’s assume you didn't know. But what the hay do we do now? We just lost a couple thousand bits worth of apples! We are ruined! Sweet Apple Acres is as good as sold!”

Braeburn put his hoof on her shoulder, and gave her a few seconds to calm down. He followed this sentiment with his own suggestion, “Well Applejack, we seem to have the same problem. Charcoal's gang took your product, and is terrorizing the trade routes that I mentioned in the letter, which is in turn hurting our town. I think we should grab a few dependable ponies, and show that this town ain't gonna be bullied by muggers!” The excited stallion spat on his hoof, and held it out.

Applejack knew she was going to regret this decision, but she had nothing to lose at this point. She landed a glob of spit on her hoof, and bumped hooves with her cousin. He smiled, and she just stared at him with a blank face.

Their drinks were brought to them a couple minutes later and Braeburn paid off the service mare, throwing in a few extra bits: a very generous tip. The mare was going to refuse, but Braeburn turned his sly face and gave her a sickly sweet smile. She turned red from embarrassment, took the tip, and tiptoed off in the other direction. Applejack face-hoofed.

They were halfway into their drinks, and loosening up, discussing things that had changed over the past few months that they hadn't seen each other. The doors to the saloon were opened up, and the train pony from earlier walked inside. He looked around, and his gaze stopped at the sitting pair. He calmly walked over, and placed a sack containing 200 bits on the table.

Without any warning, he spoke, “Alright, here is my debt for my life, and the medical cost for your brother. But! I have a proposition. I am still missing half of my train! If you can recover that damn thing, I will give you 1,000 bits, and if you happen to recover the lost goods, I'll throw in another 500. Do you accept my offer?”

The two looked on in slight wonder at the suddenness of the plea.

Applejack regained herself faster than Braeburn and spoke, “Why yes, I'll gladly take your offer. And thank you kindly for the medical costs!” The agreement was settled.

Before they could down the rest of the fiery liquid, they felt the saloon become uncomfortably quiet. Braeburn looked behind Applejack to the poker game that was being played when they first entered. Applejack followed his gaze to 6 ponies, all pointing guns at each other.

“You cheating maggot! Hand over all of your chips!” Yelled a mud colored stallion, as he motioned his revolver to the mountain of chips the piss colored unicorn had accumulated.

“I'm the cheating maggot!? May I remind you that you're the one who pulled the card from your horseshoe earlier?!” The yellow unicorn yelled back, holding a lever action shotgun in his blue magical aura.

Their meaningless argument was halted by the slamming of the saloon doors, followed by a collection of hooves. Sheriff Silverstar walked in, three ponies at his side, all holding standard .44 revolvers: a pretty heavy piece.

“Now why don' you just put those firearms away, before you do somethin' y'all will regret na'?” Silverstar said in his deep western accent. A pony jerked his pistol to point to the sheriff who struck like a lightning bolt as he drew his revolver, and shot the pistol from the poker player's muzzle. Looks of disappointment and astonishment were everywhere in the saloon. Almost all of the glares were pointed to the poker table. The poker ponies slowly released their grips on their firearms, and began back-trotting, never breaking eye contact.

“Thought so.” the sheriff said sternly. Applejack and Braeburn stared at him stupefied. Again, Applejack recovered faster than Braeburn.

Before the light brown sheriff exited the saloon, Applejack caught his attention, “Hey! Silverstar! Come 'ere!”

He trotted over to her and asked, “Hey'a Applejack! Haven't seen ya around here in a while. How are ya?”

“Not good Silverstar. I was on the train that came in this afternoon. It was apparently attacked by a bandit called Charcoal. We lost thousands of bits worth of apples, and Big Mac got shot.” Applejack informed him.

“Hmm, that don't surprise me one bit. He's been bothering us for many a month, but this is too far! We need t'do something about it!” He exclaimed.

Applejack smiled, and told him, “Come with Braeburn and me, we'll take care of the problem, we just need a few ponies to help out.” Sheriff Silverstar smiled to this and winked.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, cowfilly.” He stated “But we'll need a good friend of mine to come join our posse, I think he is one of the only creatures near this town that knows how to find that slippery stallion.” Applejack agreed, but noticed how sheriff Silverstar made sure to differentiate between pony, and creature. She hoped he knew what he was doing.

They entered the sheriff's private cart, pulled by the colts that burst into the saloon earlier. He pointed them off in a vague direction, and they began galloping to the said location. After the ponies were several hoofometers out of town (which was no longer seen as it was blocked by a canyon), they came upon a small tribe of buffalo. The buffalo greeted them as neutrals, not acknowledging them and, and upon the sheriffs request, were taken to the tent of a buffalo by the name of Red Horn. As Silverstar explained on their way here, the buffalo native was a well-known tracker, and knew the region very well.

“Why do you come here?” The medium sized buffalo asked, not giving them a look.

“Well howdy Red Horn, we were just poppin' in to see if you wanted to help our little town here deal with a 'bad pony' problem.” Sheriff Silverstar said, politely.

“Why would a buffalo help the likes of YOU? Is it not the 'kind' ponies of Appleloosa who have slandered our land with their trees!? You are in luck however, I am not one to care for our history, I want to adapt to our new life with no resistance. I also happen to know of your problem. A 'bad pony' is a pony I know of; he stalks the flat of the desert, and robs anything he sees. He even attacks our trade caravans. We see him as a problem. So, all hate aside, I will help you. But do not think for a minute that I have any pleasure in doing so!” The buffalo calmly put Silverstar in his place. Without further delay, Red Horn grabbed a satchel, his bow, a dozen arrows, and the ponies were off once again.

They returned to the town, and trotted to the medical wing of the sheriff’s office. Big Mac looked much better than he was when they had left him there under the care of Nurse Candy. Her unicorn magic helped her heal Big Mac's wounds more effectively. This did not fully heal him however, and there was still some internal damage. The slowly growing group told Big Mac about their plan, to which he agreed unconditionally to; against Nurse Candy's better judgment. Big Mac then thanked her kindly for her help, paid her 100 bits, and left.

Applejack, Big Mac, and Braeburn were chatting in the back of the carriage while Red Horn and Silverstar spoke about the renegades’ trail. After a quick council, the placement of the attack on the train was determined, pieced together from Red Horn’s knowledge of the region and Big Mac's keen visual memory.

The cart was faster than the train, and they got to the crime scene in 5 hours. The sun was kissing the horizon, and the wasteland looked beautiful. It was giving off a red glow, only interrupted by the tall forms of cacti, casting long shadows. The emptied train cars were also a source of eerie calm in the plain. It was truly a sight to behold. Unfortunately, the gang of ponies couldn't enjoy the landscape, and began searching for a trail as soon as they could, due to the rapidly disappearing sunlight; searching in the night would be fruitless.

They spent the next few hours hunched over, inspecting every rock and discarded cigarette butt for any indication to the location of their enemies. Time had not been merciful, and as daylight faded into the cold night, their results were as meaningless as a piece of string in a pool. By unanimous decision, the group decided it was best if they simply rode out the night, and continued in the morning. Red Horn was prepared for this, and had a fire started in ten seconds flat. The ponies huddled around it trying to keep warm; the night air being much colder than originally anticipated. Luckily the sheriff’s cart had all of the necessary bedding. Unfortunately, Silverstar’s deputies couldn't accompany them on this vendetta mission. In order to keep the town safe, they left the cart, and galloped back to Appleloosa.

The fire was pleasant in the cold atmosphere, and stretching stony sands of the western badlands. It was lovely enough to spark some casual stories from the exhausted beings.

“Heh heh heh heh heh! And so the princess was deceiving her student the whole day, just so she could learn the value of sacrifice! I swear she isn't as flawless as we all know her to be!” Braeburn laughed.

“What of you Chief Silverstar? Have you any stories of your past?” Red Horn asked, this statement being the first since he first arrived to the place where the bandits were last seen.

“My, my, of course! Why you askin'? No doubt you have an interest in the story of an old lawpony?” Sheriff Silverstar said in a mocking voice. Even through the dim light the blush on Red Horn's face was clearly visible.

Giggling, the brown pony said again, “Yes, I do have a story, and this one you may very well like Red Horn. ‘Tis about one of your kin, back when Appleloosa was merely an idea that was so fragile the wind could have broken it.”

Pausing a moment for dramatic effect, the sheriff continued, “So I was walkin' down a stretch of the desert, a few hoofometers North of here, when I saw a campfire in the distance. Now, mind you, I was a mighty naïve pony back then, and a campfire in the distance for me meant that I could score a meal and a camp! Oh how wrong I was. The night was upon me before I got to the camp, but I decided to still make way for the shimmer in the darkness. It took me a while, but I finally got there. I looked around, and saw that nopony was there and decided to take a seat by the fire to warm my young bones. Seems as though I had fallen asleep though, and woke up in the most peculiar of situations. I woke up and was tied up from muzzle to rump, secured to a spit, and was being slowly turned over the very fire that I was using to warm myself! I panicked and learned the horrifying truth to the hosts of my discomfort. They were the dangerous, pony-eatin', desert timber wolves! My, my, was I one scared pony. From their speech of growls and barks, I could make out that there were at least four of them, surroundin' me. I couldn't tell what they was arguin' about, but I reckon it was 'bout how they were gonna cook me up, and eat me! THEN! Suddenly, I feel the ground shakin' beneath me, and hear an increasing noise of gallopin'! I started tryin' to scream out for help, but I was gagged. Not knowin' what to do, I pushed a knot of the stick I was tied to on the trigger of my revolver which was luckily still on me at the time, and sent off one shot. That bullet went right through my lower, left, hoof, (Silverstar shows the scar) but I certainly got the attention of the herd of buffalo that’d happened to be passin' by at the time. And did they come runnin'! I’d never seen any timber wolf flee faster than those four. Only a lucky two survived, the rest were broken into a million pieces and thrown about the land. Anyway, the buffalo untied me, and I showed them my utmost gratitude. This was also the time I met Red Tusk, the most kindly, most understandin' buffalo of his time. He was so kind that after he helped me fix my hoof, he even let me stay at his tent, for an entire week! Talk about hospitality! I loved that buffalo, he was my dear friend, until he died in a horrible accident, but that's a different story.” Silverstar ended solemnly, with a sense of nostalgia.

Red Horn was covering his face with his hooves, and quietly crying. Silverstar scooted his bedding closer to the buffalo and put his hoof around his shoulder, giving him a comforting pat. He reached into his bag, and brought out a small, steel, canteen, offering it to Red Horn. Red Horn, accepted the alcohol, and gladly took a few sips.

“Don't worry young'un ain't nothin' you coulda done.” the sheriff reassured. The other three ponies decided that their intervention was unnecessary, and would in fact ruin the emotional moment. Instead, they decided to thank the sheriff for his story, and recline onto their mats for some well-earned shut-eye.

Applejack was woken up carefully by Braeburn, who was awkwardly looking at her eyes from about a hoof away.

“Braeburn, what are you doin'?” She inquired.

“Uuuhhh, nothing much, just waking you up.” Braeburn said uncomfortably, never leaving her gaze. Applejack pushed him off of her, and got up on her hooves. Her body felt much better now that it had gotten a proper rest.

The sunrise in the desert was about as awesome as the sunset. The sun was a white dinner plate hiding behind a sea of orange sand, and person-like shapes of cacti. Applejack was starting to really enjoy the environment. She looked around, and saw Red Horn and Big Mac eyeing something on the ground, intently, trying to figure something out. Sheriff Silverstar was scoping out the horizon for any incoming problems, and Braeburn had disappeared. She decided to make her way to the tracker, and her brother.

“You reckon they made camp here too?” Big Mac asked.

“Aye, this will lead us straight to them!” Red Horn replied excitedly.

“Mornin' all, now what's all this racket about findin' bandits Red?” Applejack joined the conversation.

“The brush they used for this fire, it is brush that I have only seen in but one place. It is a hidden valley, surrounded by canyon rock, the perfect holdout. I do not think a direct assault is possible.” He told her, a pang of disappointment in his voice. Applejack frowned, then called over Silverstar and Braeburn for a group decision on what they should do next.

Opinions didn't differ that much from pony to pony, everypony generally believed that a visit to this place would provide them with at least a small amount of answers, or maybe even give them a plan. So, it was decided that Red Horn would lead them to the “Canyon of Valleys”, as was its formal name.

They began walking South, and attempting to think up of ways to spy on the bandits without their plan going south, no pun intended. The last of the supplies that they had collected from the abandoned transport cart was a two days’ supply of water per creature, a full days food ration, and five red bandanas, so they could tell each other apart, and so that the corrosive sands of the desert didn't ruin their lungs. This walk wouldn't take too long, as the hideout was but 8 hoofometers yonder. Regardless, the rule of the badlands was that if you planned to go away for a day, you better pack anticipating a week-long venture.

Merely two hours later they were within sight of the monolithic structure of the canyon range. It was epic beyond belief. The sharp air had bored its way into the rocks and left them with a smooth surface, comfortable to the touch. It also molded the canyon rocks into strange, windblown shapes, unique to the area. During the two hour walk Red Horn, Braeburn, and Silverstar had decided the best course of action would be an infiltration mission. Red Horn would lead one pony to a secret entrance into the valley. From there that pony would be able to blend in with the others and hopefully learn about any upcoming plans. After two hours if the pony did not return, he would be assumed dead, and the others were to think of a different plan. 'Lovely' Applejack thought to herself. She and her brother couldn't be the ones to go into the camp, they had already been muzzle to muzzle with some of them, and they were sure to remember the pair. Sheriff Silverstar couldn't go, because he was the sheriff and all of the bandits probably already knew him. Red Horn couldn't be risked, because he was their ticket out of this mess if they found themselves lost up a shit creek with no paddle. So, it was only feasible that Braeburn could volunteer to go. He gladly agreed.

Within a half an hour Braeburn was re-outfitted with a more rugged wanderer look, and given a matching black bandana they found on their way to the valley. He looked like the baddest badass that existed in the wastes. To fit his role more fluently and to flirt with Applejack, Braeburn decided to twirl his .357 repeater rifle. This foolish trick ended with him getting a bruise on his cheek from the heavy butt of the rifle; he just grinned as he tried to mask his utter failure. Applejack wasn't sure if this plan was going to work anymore.

They saw off Red Horn and Braeburn, but decided to keep a distance for two reasons. A crowd would be easier to discover, and if they kept at the vantage point they found themselves on, it would be much easier to spot patrols and get an overall eye over the land.

The grueling minutes dragged on everypony’s nerves for a good hour, and Applejack was dropped into a lake of pure terror when she heard gunshots in the distance. She felt her heart slamming against the inside of her ribcage. She sincerely hoped that they would get away unscathed. The sound of scrambling hooves could be heard from a small outcrop near their position, and they helped Braeburn and Red Horn up.

Without saying a word, they motioned with their hooves to gallop in the direction of the town. The sound of pursuit stopped any attempt at trying to get any information out of the defective spy. The shots were being sent at their position, all of them missing because of a tactical turn in the path. Jumping from terrace to terrace, they made their way down the cliff side and escaped into the desert. They didn't stop running for another two hoofometers until they could be sure they were not being pursued.

Luckily the bandits proved to be lazy, and did not follow them.

Heaving, Applejack asked Braeburn, “What *breath* happened?”

“Heh *breath* nothin' much *breath* just you know *breath* was caught eavesdropping on a *breath* conversation between the big boss himself, and another pony. You won't believe what I heard! They are planning an attack on the next shipment of apples into Appleloosa. That 'Charcoal' fella said he'd be leading the operation. They got themselves holed in there deep, 30 ponies strong! I doubt we'll be able to outgun them either.” Braeburn finished off in a flurry of desperate breaths.

Sheriff Silverstar chuckled, “Oh come now you silly fillies! The plan is simple here. We just have to lure them in, and send them to the moon with dynamite!”

“Ehhh, what now?” Both Applejack and Red Horn asked, moderately disturbed.

The aged pony replied, “We send a courier to the train, inform them about this unfortunate turn of events, tell 'em to fill the apple crates full of explosives, and meet them halfway to before they get attacked, so we can rig a pressure fuse to the damn thing. There's your plan. It should take out enough of the bandits so that we won't have too much trouble takin' out the rest.” The plan seemed flawless, and the next apple train was due in two days’ time, giving them more than enough time to head back to Appleloosa, grab some mercenaries, send a courier, and pack one hell of a surprise punch into Charcoal’s gang.

Walking downwind was easier than walking upwind, so the trip back to the carrier wagon was much quicker, giving them a good 6 more hours of daylight. They decided it was for the best if they all muscled it out, and pulled the rest of the train back to Appleloosa; jury rigging the back of the wagon to act as the engine to the abandoned segments. With their hooves they pulled that Celestia forsaken train all the way back to its sister, still stranded at the Appleloosa station. Big Mac was lying in the carriage, as he happened to pass out during one of his turns at pulling the chain. No surprise there, he was yet to fully recover from his bullet wound.

Their posse was greeted at the station by the all too ecstatic train pony who whooped in joy as they pulled the segments into the station. Unhooking themselves from the train, they walked over to the pony who offered them a whole 1,000 bits for their efforts. Applejack, being an honest mare, decided to skillfully split the profit, giving everypony 200 bits.

“So what's the plan?” She asked as the last of the bits fell into her own saddlebags.

“We split up. I'll go ask some of the townspeople for help in this feud. Braeburn, send your shady courier pony out to warn the town of Phoenix about the attack, and make sure to tell him not to raise the whole town on the matter, only the ponies that can help us in our plan. Also have him take care of the 'traitor' on the train. Give him these bits as compensation for any issues he might face (the sheriff hands Braeburn his 200 bits). The rest of you better get some rest, especially you Big Mac. If you want anything to do with the plan you better be damn well rested!” Silverstar commanded. The posse obeyed and split up each pony running to their own task. Braeburn walked up to Applejack and poured his share of the 200 bits into her left saddlebag; the money making some noise as it fell over itself.

Applejack looked at him. He was smiling. He clearly was pleased with himself for doing this, and she hated his advantage over her. So she gave him the response he clearly wanted, a big, awkward blush. With that, she turned and continued walking to their temporary home in the Appleloosa Motel, their stay already accounted for.

The next day the posse met up at the saloon to review the plan, and to present anything new to the situation. It was a stroke of luck that Braeburn decided to send the courier to Phoenix the night prior. By Braeburn's account, Courier was planning on leaving in the morning to go north to the home of a companion. Clearly, Courier was disappointed that this plan would make him late for his rendezvous with his companion, but given the conditions he reluctantly agreed to aid the desperate ponies.

Silverstar had little problem in enlisting the help of a few other ponies in town. Many of the enlistees had been attacked by Charcoal's gang before and were thirsty for revenge. Sheriff Silverstar needed a small militia to pull off his plan in order to end this pesky thug, once and for all. He sent off the ten stallions to take their positions, and to strike at the sound of the explosion, in one days’ time.

Big Mac spent the entire day ensuring Applejack and Braeburn that he was fit to fight. He claimed Candy's potions and unicorn magic had healed him enough to take care of some lousy bandits who stole his property. Against her better judgment, Applejack decided to allow Big Macintosh to help with the counter offensive. Braeburn just sat there, and nodded his head like an idiot.

While the group conversed in the saloon, Courier was making his way to Phoenix as fast as he could, to ensure he would not miss the train. He had done these insane missions before and always succeeded. He saw no reason to break that record now.

The baking desert was uncomfortably hot, but he was used to it after the years of prolonged exposure. Phoenix was a town that was nine hours away by hoof, and was one of the friendliest in the entire bad-land territory. It would not be hard to convince them that their train was to be attacked tomorrow, hence getting a few willing guard-volunteers. Asking them to fill a useless train-car with dynamite however... That was probably going to be another story. He decided he would use their fear of organized criminals against them.

Courier saw three ponies on the horizon. He withdrew his binoculars, and tried to identify the other ponies. Black bandanas! Charcoal's gang, Courier thought to himself.

“What are, you doing so far from your nest?” He murmured to himself. Seeing as they could not spot him from his position, Courier decided to pursue the bandits; they were headed in the direction of Phoenix anyways.

Half an hour away from the Phoenix Proper, the bandits set up camp. Courier was sincerely confused. There was still many hours of sunlight before the sunset. What are you up to? His assignment needed to be completed, and only Celestia knew how long these thugs would stay here. Running around them would take too long. He would need to brave a frontal encounter, and hopefully he wouldn't need to kill anypony.

When Courier reached the bandit campsite, they were already pointing their guns at him ready to kill. Perplexed, he slowly removed his weapons from his hoof holsters, and placed them in his saddlebags. This calmed the bandits, but they kept their weapons drawn.

“Who the hell d'you think y'are?” The forest green mare with a white mane called out.

“I am a courier sent from Hoofington to deliver a message to Phoenix.” Courier answered.

“That so? Well, lil'filly, d'you mind if we see this 'message' 'ere?” A grey stallion with a golden mane asked. Courier gritted his teeth. I don't need this shit right now!

Courier faked a sigh, and said, “Damn, well I guess so. You can't do much with it anyway.” The ponies nodded when he looked at them before reaching into his saddlebags. Where is the third? He reached into his right saddlebag; the one with the five round .50 caliber magnum, but only confirmed its placement.

“Hey, do you mind if I grab some shade from your little sun-veil here?” He politely inquired.

“Ahhh, yeah sure that's alright I reckon.” The green mare replied. Courier walked to his ideal position. The sun was out of his eyes, and the two ponies were lined up in his shot. Without as much warning, Courier threw out the magnum, and with a crack, blew a two inch diameter hole in both ponies; courtesy of one bullet. Not yet ready to claim victory, he began frantically trying to locate the third bandit.

After searching the area well enough, he concluded that the last bandit had gone to the town. Courier searched the area for any clues on his location, and found nothing in the tent, or in their belongings. He looked at the bodies, and reached his hoof into the front pocket of the golden maned stallion. It was drenched in his coagulating blood. The paper Courier withdrew was also soaked in blood, but the document was still legible.

Pine Bush, Blank Face, and 'Eskimo',

You are under a contract to infiltrate Phoenix, and ensure that the plans are to go about as planned in two days’ time. We had a spy problem, and we need to make sure we aren't compromised. If you stop anywhere besides the 12 hoofometer stretch before Appleloosa, I will know we have been jeopardized. 'Eskimo' will lead this charade, so make sure everypony follows your orders! Anyways, do not fail me in this mission, last time we were hit hard by a mere two ponies. I want no mistakes this time around. The password to get Blank Face to play out of character is the phrase 'I see nopony!' Don't forget that, otherwise you'll never get him back. Remember, he's been a little wired since the head trauma.

- Charcoal

Everything began to make sense. Braeburn had told him earlier that they had gotten caught while snooping around 'Canyon of Valleys'. It would only be logical to send his best to make sure everything went according to plan. Too bad! Courier smiled grimly at the fallen corpses of the ponies, their blood now either clumping in their coat, or in frozen rivers in the hot sand. Charcoal, definitely didn't count on an Equis class courier to come in contact with his amateur goons.

With that, he took the memo, and began trotting towards Phoenix. The sun was beginning to fall, and the sound of a train horn could be heard in the distance.

Applejack tried to sleep, she really did, but anxiety is stronger than willpower; especially when it comes to dreams. So she decided to go for a walk and a smoke. She made sure to grab her hat and duster, as it was fairly cold outside. Breathing the cool, crisp air Applejack looked up at the moon. She giggled, remembering stories of Nightmare Moon when she was younger. Now she simply bowed gracefully, and requested that nopony close to her die tomorrow. It was a simple request really, but one that could decide the outcome of their lives.

When Applejack was done with her pipe, she walked calmly back to her hotel. Now feeling the effect of the nicotine, she relaxed, and went to sleep.

The morning came quickly, and she was booted awake by a distressed Braeburn, who was yelling something.

“Come on, come on, come on! Get up AJ, we're late. Big Mac, Silverstar, Red Horn, and the others are already in their positions, I'm waitin' on you!” He accented.

“Alright alright! I'm up Braeburn. Lemme get my stuff, my gun, and we'll trot out, ok?” Applejack stammered, still not fully awake. Braeburn nodded eagerly. Applejack followed up by grabbing her saddlebags the double barreled shotgun, not forgetting to secure two holsters to her hooves.

They began their jog to the position of the ambushing group. It was only a couple hours away but the attack was said to happen in the early afternoon. Applejack just hoped they could make it in time; before the initial explosion went off. If it did, that is. This plan was thrown together in such a rush that she couldn't confirm whether or not there was going to be an explosion for sure. Braeburn's courier could have failed.

Applejack decided to stop the negative thoughts and concentrate on the road ahead. They had already been running for a good two hours out of town, and the sunlit landscape of the wastes was as breathtaking as always. The expanse let them see hoofometers ahead. This was helpful because they saw the train coming almost as they came into contact with Sheriff Silverstar. He called out to them from a rocky outcrop that they would have missed, had they not heard the pony yell to them.

“Howdy, partners! We're waitin' on the train from Phoenix to rig the trigger to the dynamite. Big Mac's waitin' on the other side of that boulder down yonder, and Red Horn... Well, I don't really know where that foal's gone off to, but I'm sure he'll stay for the action. I'd like y'all to take your positions there.” The sheriff said, pointing to a medium height ledge that was just level with a train car's roof. It would be a nice place to shoot from, as it had a full view of the battlefield and had good cover; a dry looking tree with some leaves still attached. Applejack decided to let Braeburn take the camouflaged sniper position because he was going to use a repeater carbine. Applejack herself had quite an arsenal as well. She obviously took her grandfather's shotgun, but managed to snag a pair of colt revolvers from Braeburn's home. He didn't seem to mind all too much. Big Mac was the least armed out of all of them, he trotted with his trusty .44 magnum everywhere he went. Sheriff Silverstar picked up two .357 revolvers from the law office in Appleloosa. He was also carrying enough ammo to supply a small army, including .44 rounds and even a few shotgun shells for Applejack. This was reputable because none of them had thought to bring more than they needed.

*Chooooo Chooooo*! The train suddenly came into view. It was slowing down, getting ready to be quickly charged up with explosives and disassembled. Applejack sighed in relief when she saw Braeburn's courier accompanied with half a dozen armed townspeople, riding in one of the open cars.

The train proceeded to screech to a halt, and was charged by the ponies. They needed to quickly retract the rigged train-cars, get the civilians to safety, attach a trigger mechanism to the explosives, and finally get into position to wait for the blind bandits. Sheriff Silverstar ran to the back of the train showing that he would take care of the retracting and rigging of the cars. Applejack saw Courier run into the passenger section and take care of removing the civilians from harm’s way. Big Mac was on the other side of the tracks so Applejack couldn't see what her brother was up to. Although she suspected he was helping Sheriff Silverstar.

Applejack looked in the direction of the expected trajectory of the bandits and saw a small but visible dust trail. A flush of worry hit her, had they come too soon? Her fears were however quelled when the body of Red Horn appeared running towards them. When he came within speaking distance, he ran to Sheriff Silverstar and told him something; she could not hear him from her distance.

Suddenly, the sheriff gave a shout, “Hey y’all hurry up, we got company comin' in 20 minutes!” They were close; the bandits had indeed come earlier than anticipated, but not too soon. From the looks of it this battle wasn't going to last too long. Everything was prepared, everypony was ready, and the bandits definitely didn't know what was going to hit them.

Silverstar and Big Mac fixed the explosives, and Big Mac took the pressure fuse with him as he returned to his position. Silverstar trotted to the passenger side of the train and took cover inside the car with a ladder to the roof; Red Horn followed suit, his bow wobbling at his flanks.

Braeburn calmly told Applejack, “They're here… stay still and they won't see us.” Applejack looked in the direction of the dust trail. A few carriages were being towed by eight of Charcoal's gang, the rest of the 30 odd ponies were running behind the carriage, and a select few sat in the carriages, Charcoal being one of them. She could tell that this stallion was Charcoal from his appearance. He wasn't the pleasant, glossy, black that some ponies possessed; but a dusty dark gray coat adorned with a equicolored mane that seemed to be matted, even from this distance. Applejack and Braeburn's position on the ridge was beneficial to them because the sun was directly behind them, blocking the bandits view.

The bandits passed under the ridge, hurrying to the disconnected rail-car. The robbers turned into a flurry of worker bees, doing exactly the job they came here for. The crates with the apple emblems were loaded into the carriages, along with other commodities like oranges and oats. It was common for bandits to take the fruits which were less valuable than the bounties of coal because fruits could be used to make bootleg liquor, which in turn was very profitable. The crates were piling up in the carriages, and Charcoal was looking at the scene from a distance; comfortable in his carriage.

Out of nowhere a bandit ran out of a train-car roaring, “AMBUSH! THE CARGO IS RIGGED TO BLOW! HIT THE DIRT! HIT TH-” An explosion of epic proportions resonated in the very ground beneath Applejack's hooves and the sky was filled with a flash followed by a dusty cloud of dirt, debris, and ash. Pieces of ponies were scattered throughout the area; a severed thigh slapped onto the desert sand next to her. She shook off the shock quickly however, as now was no time to hesitate. The explosion settled, and it was clear that Charcoal's gang had taken a serious hit. It was impossible to predict the death toll from the pieces, but only nine of the bandits were in any shape to resist, the rest were either gone, a medical nightmare, or screaming for help from the dry floor of the badlands.

Gunfire followed, first from the roof of the now emptied passenger car. Then Applejack heard the crack of Braeburn's rifle as he began to pick off the remainder of the renegades. She underestimated the bandits’ battlefield prowess when she saw the remaining thugs immediately rush the train that held two of her friends; Charcoal was out of sight.

“Prepare to get bucked.” Applejack got her act together and pointed her shotgun at a fleeing bandit, and sending two rounds of buckshot his way. She aimed for the flanks, thinking it would incapacitate, but not necessarily kill. From the other side of the train emerged Courier with his small group of militia ponies. Applejack was sincerely impressed by the gun the stallion held, it was almost as big as her sawed-off.

Without hesitation the rest of the bandits threw their hooves up high, in defeat. Charcoal was still not visible, but that question was soon answered when she saw the reinforcements coming from a hidden dip in the landscape. The son of a bitch anticipated an ambush and came prepared! There were not nearly as many bandits this time, but they were still outnumbered two to one. Their side began taking losses. The ponies in Courier's posse had taken a hit because of their lack of cover.

The carriages were now attempting to surround sheriff's train-car, luckily the explosion left barrier like rubble everywhere in mangled discord. In another minute of action, the carriages were unloaded and a few ponies poured into the car, the rest took to shooting up Courier's group, which was doing stunningly well with no cover. Red Horn could be seen firing an arrow into a bandit’s back, who supplied a mortifying howl of fear and agony. Applejack could imagine how discomforting it would be to get one of those uncomfortably ridged terrors in her back.

Seemingly from nowhere, Applejack heard a familiar scream. This scream was unique because of its low tone. Big Mac! Abandoning her position on the ridge, she ran in the direction of her brother's wail. None of the bandits were aware of the ponies on the ridge so they didn't realize when Applejack ran past their flank, and around the terminated train section. The ground was still burning hot from the boom, and was scorching her hooves, but she didn't dare yell in pain. She saw the boulder that Big Mac was hiding behind, and galloped to it.

She sighed in relief when she saw her brother smashing in the face of another bandit, who had clearly shot another hole into Big Mac's side. The bullet cleared the bandages and fresh blood poured from the wound. It was soaking his coat, and dripping off of his abdomen. Trotting to his side she soothed the angry stallion from destroying the already unrecognizable mess of the thug's face.

Unfortunately, their moment of piece was interrupted by another yell. This time it didn't sound like one of pain, but instead like a demand.

“I SWEAR TO CELESTIA I'LL KILL HIM!” Charcoal hollered from the top of the train-car. Applejack left Big Mac to see how she could take out the stallion. She was exposed to a very disheartening sight. Charcoal had overrun the bunker-like car, and was holding a Bowie knife to Silverstar's throat, a thin line of blood already staining his light brown coat. Red Horn was knocked unconscious by the fall off of the section of train. Applejack ran closer to Charcoal's position, and pointed her shotgun at him.

“Now y'all better let my friend go, or I won't hesitate to shoot!” Applejack called out to him.

He turned to her and smiled, sickly, “You ain't gonna kill him, you good for nothin’ whorse!” Applejack grimaced and pushed the trigger. . . Nothing had happened! In the confusion of the battle, she had forgotten to reload. Charcoal noticed this as well, and grabbed a revolver from his hoof holster.

Pointing it at her, he said, “Well ain't that jus', too, ba-AAHHHH!” He dropped his revolver which clattered off of the car. A .357 round which landed him square into the mound of flesh with his cutie mark, a lump of coal; now it was a lump of coal with a gaping hole in it. Applejack could hear Braeburn let out a “Yee haw!” of success from up on the ridge. Applejack whispered to herself “Damn good shot Braeburn…” Charcoal was lying on the roof of the train-car whimpering as sheriff Silverstar put him in hoof cuffs, and kicked him off the edge. The impact silenced his moaning.

There was no more gunfire in the vicinity, and Courier had returned with the civilians, who he let back onto the train. Big Mac limped over to Applejack's side, and observed the scene as well. The blood from the dismembered ponies was forming solid pools on the dusty terrain. A lot of bandits had died today.

Braeburn and Silverstar rounded up the surviving bandits, now prisoners, into an empty carriage which they attached to the back of the train; Charcoal amongst them. Big Mac was treated by a medical pony who happened to be a passenger on the train at the time. She treated him accordingly by giving him a full new set of clean bandages, and telling him to take it easy for the next week or two. Applejack grabbed an empty cot, and fell onto it, absolutely exhausted.

She awoke to the sweet sound of the train making a stop at Appleloosa. It was a welcome sound, as it marked the end of the brunt of the ordeal. Applejack pulled her tired body from the train cot and looked out of the murky window. Ponies were cheering the arrival of the train. It seems as if word had gotten around about their actions, and their recent victory had raised their status in this town to something of idolized figures. Applejack hoped it would increase their business, and that the customers would agree on the price of their product. She met up with Big Mac, and coaxed him to go back to Nurse Candy so she could once again patch him up. He simply muttered an affirmative statement, and shambled to the other side of town.

Red Horn met Applejack, on her way to the saloon, and spoke, “Applejack, Braeburn, Sheriff Silverstar, and Courier have taken a few fresh ponies to the 'Hidden Valley Canyon', where they will recover your products. I have to go back to my tribe now. Tell the Sheriff I said goodbye.”

They were interrupted by the train pony, who ran to Applejack, and handed her 500 bits. He already knew that if the ambush succeeded the products would make their way back to his clients. With a wave of his hat, he bid her farewell and thanked her for the service. Applejack nodded back, too exhausted to tell him it was no problem.

“Red Horn, take these here bits,” Applejack told Red Horn before handing him the money, “I recon' y'all will need it more than me. I hope you can do something with it, and I truly thank ya' kindly for your help.”

Red Horn simply cut the pile in half, and handed her back 250 bits before he shook his head, laughed, and began striding off into the emerging moonlight.

Applejack watched the bull disappear into the twilight before she turned and continued her journey to the saloon. She was going to relax for the rest of tonight.

A multitude of hours had passed and Applejack was already asleep in her booth at the saloon; there were four empty jars, and a half full receptacle of the liquid was clear, and smelled of acetone. The door to the saloon opened and laughter erupted.

“I told y'all she'd be sleepin' in here.” Braeburn's tired voice guffawed.

“We need to bring her back to your house and let her rest. You'll tell her the news tomorrow morning? I can't imagine she'll take too fondly to it.” The dark courier pony said, without the slightest hint of exhaustion.

“What's your plan Courier?” Braeburn asked him. The dingy stallion fixed his hat on his head, and looked at Braeburn.

“I suppose I need to go to the rendezvous I said I would be at.” With that, he trotted out of the saloon and into the sandy badlands. Braeburn watched him go, and tipped his hat in reverence. He returned to the bar, and threw Applejack's limp body over his flanks, chuckling under his breath. He told the bar pony to take the charges off of his tab, and silently moved out of the building.

“Half of the apples are in fermentation vats!? What in the wide world of Equis are we going to do?” said the clearly dejected Applejack. Big Mac had anticipated this response, and responded accordingly.

“AJ, I talked to the barkeep in this here town, and he said that his most recent cargo was delivered to the wrong town, and would arrive dreadfully late. He's agreed to take the vats for himself, and pay us a whole 3,000 bits! We'll make a good profit AJ.” He answered in a monotone sounding voice. Applejack's head felt as if it was being bucked by the best apple bucker in Equestria. All she got out of the conversation was that they would be getting 3,000 bits for the now useless apple product. Inside she was glad that a whole half of the stock was now sold, which made their task all the more easy. All she would now need to do is sell the rest of the carts of apples and they could be on their way back to Sweet Apple Acres.

She hazily replied, “Alrigh' big brother, sell them. I'll go set up our stand.”

The two parted, both headed to their respective tasks.

Throughout the day, Applejack and Big Mac got more than enough business to sell the apple stock to the fullest price. The town was rewarding them for their bravery against the unrelenting bandits. It was a wonderful sight, they had made enough money to drag Sweet Apple Acres entirely out of debt, and return their barn to an acceptable state. The profit was measly, but at least the farm was secured under their names. They returned to the train station to order the tickets to return to Ponyville, and were met by a pleasant surprise.

“Howdy there, town heroes!” The big trainbuck called. “I was told of your recent actions, and less'to say, I am mighty impressed. If all this here is true, I would feel mighty embarrassed if I charged you for a homebound journey. So, what I'm sayin' here is that you can travel for no extra charge!”

Applejack was astounded by the sudden turn of events. Something she had done out of the goodness of her heart, as a moral duty for the ponies of Appleloosa; being repaid in full. It was something she certainly did not expect.

Big Mac gladly took the two tickets, and after exchanging quick thanks, the two homebound ponies walked to Braeburn's house to enjoy their last night in the charming town of Appleloosa.

Author's Note

This story was thought up of by Worldenterer.
This story was written by TheRussianBrony.
This story was recovered by TheRussianBrony (from a broken harddrive).
This story was edited by Worldenterer, and Kirawolf590.
This story was gifted with beautiful cover art by Kirawolf 590. Check her out on Deviantart.
This story was a practice session to determine how best to write an 'Adventure' themed plot (teehee) line.
Hope you enjoyed, epilogue for closure is coming.

Epilogue

Three days later

Applejack and Big Mac stood, looking over their farm and all the apple trees that still needed clearing.

“Boy howdy! I got my work cut out for me. That there is the biggest bumper crop o' apples I ever laid eyes on!” Applejack exclaimed.

“Eeyup,” her brother replied, “Too big for you to handle on your own.”

“Come on, big brother! You need to rest up and get yourself better. I haven't met an apple orchard yet that I can't handle.” She said challengingly while bumping her hoof into his side forgetting about the bandages covering his gunshot wounds. Her brother recoiled painfully. “Oops, sorry.” She apologized before continuing. “I'll take a bite out of this job by day's end!”