The Descendants

by Gherkin

Chapter 4: Political Realities in Appleloosa

The interior of the train car was stiflingly hot under the unrelenting rays of the desert sun, which, combined with the heat from the nearby engine, made for a rather uncomfortable riding experience. Not only was the heat unbearable, but the sound of the train roaring down the track was deafening. Plus, the train car smelt pungent, as if it hadn't been cleaned in years. It wasn’t the kind of transport you would expect from royalty, but, unfortunately, the main royal carriage was being used on more 'important' business.

The train was taking the group of newfound allies to a frontier town known as Appleloosa. According to Princess Celestia, the town was the perfect place for the first part of her plan to be put in motion: a Hearts and Minds campaign. It would be easier to gain the support of Equestria's citizens in the upcoming battle (a battle against whom, they weren't sure) if the general population were already friendly enough with their 'heroes', as the princess had put it. It all sounded very cliché, but at that moment, none of them knew what to think.

Twilight and her friends had travelled back to Ponyville. The events of the past few days had taken their toll on the six friends, and they needed to properly rest. Meanwhile, the four stallions were travelling to Appleloosa, ready to ‘make some friends’.

“So...” Nate began, turning to Cole, “Where you from?”

Cole chuckled. Not too great at small talk, huh? “Empire City,” he answered simply, “Used to work as a bicycle courier, ‘till the whole place got blasted to shit. Guess you heard about that on the news or something.”

Nate nodded grimly. “Yeah, I heard about it.” He sat up, arching his back and sighing in relief as he heard his bones crack. “Funny, I got a cousin who used to live in Empire City. Bartender, I think.”

“Geez, um, I’m sorry.”

Nate smiled. “Don’t worry, he’d moved upstate to New York when it happened.” He thought for a second. “Y’know, I don’t know why the terrorists attacked Empire City instead of somewhere bigger like New York, but whatever.”

“Um, yeah, terrorists,” Cole muttered, looking away.

“Anyway,” Nate continued, “Desmond, I think his name was.”

Ezio perked his ears up. “Did you say... Desmond?”

Nate looked at the Italian, confused. “Yeah. My cousin, Desmond. Why?”

The assassin shook his head and leaned back again. “Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Yeah, and if someone told me I was going to be sitting in a boiling hot train car in a land of magical talking ponies after being brought back from the dead about two days ago, I wouldn’t have believed them either,” Cole said, “But here we are. So try me.”

Ezio nodded. “Good point, I suppose. I may as well start from the beginning, then.”

Throughout the rest of the long train ride, Ezio told the three stallions his life story. His carefree days as a teenager in Florence, spending time with the beautiful Christina Vespucci, his family’s betrayal, becoming an assassin, his run-ins with the Pazzi family, and his long-running feud with Rodrigo Borgia. Just as he had finished detailing his experiences in the Vault below the Vatican, the train pulled into the station.

“End of the line!” A conductor announced as the stepped out into the sunlight, “Welcome to Appleloosa, gentlecolts.” With that, he trotted back towards the engine.

The four of them glanced around. The place was typical of a Western frontier town. There were only a handful of buildings, and the streets were mostly empty, as everypony was inside, hidden away from the sweltering heat.

“Well,” Nate began, “Where do we start?”

John started out of the station, trotting down the main road. “Well I don’t know about you, but I’m getting something to drink. C’mon, I think the saloon’s this way.” The rest of them nodded in agreement, and started to follow.

As they walked through the town, Cole couldn’t help notice that everyone was watching them, either out of fear or suspicion. Maybe a bit of both. He didn’t blame them. Apart from John, none of them really looked the part for this kind of town.

They soon reached the front door of the saloon. “The Salt Block...” Ezio noted, staring up at the sign above the door.

Nate chuckled. “Is it just me, or is this place one big living, breathing pun?” Ezio and John laughed slightly in agreement, while Cole just stared at him.

“What?” he said, “I don’t get it.”

Ezio smirked. “You haven’t had much experience with horses, have you?”

“Hell, where I come from, you should be surprised that I’ve even seen one.” He hopped up the wooden steps to the door. “Empire City never was big on horse racing.”

Taking the lead, John pushed through the door with confidence. Contrary to his expectations, they weren’t met with angry or suspicious glares. Instead, a few of the saloon’s patrons looked up and smiled, a few even greeting them as they made their way to the bar.

The bartender, a light grey earth pony with a bushy moustache, looked up from the shot glasses he was cleaning. “Why, good day, gentlecolts,” he greeted them, “What’s your poison, salt or liquor?”

John hopped up onto a barstool. “Uh, I’ll just take whatever’s on tap, please.”

“Alrighty, that’ll be four bits, sir.”

Marston reached back into his saddlebags and pulled out a bag of money that the princess had supplied them each with. He carefully picked out four coins and dropped them onto the counter. “Thanks, mister.”

The rest of them sat down and ordered their own drinks. Ezio, disappointed with the lackluster choice of wine, was the first to speak up. “So, how do you all propose we go about this?”

Cole shrugged. “I don’t know. Help people out I guess. Always worked for me.”

"Yeah, but it doesn’t look like a lot of people around here are in need of any help,” Drake said.

“Hold your horses,” John interrupted, “We ain’t been here five minutes, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. We should just wait here for a while, see what happens.” The rest nodded in agreement.

The sound of the saloon’s swinging doors being thrust open drew their attention away from their drinks. Swaggering into the building were a group of stallions, all of whom probably didn’t understand the definition of ‘hygiene’. Ezio could smell them from the bar, and visibly covered his nose in disgust. The apparent leader, a tough looking stallion who sported a jet black longcoat and matching stetson, called out across the room. “Hey Apple! I thought I done told you never to come in here!”

A beige coloured colt who was slouched down at the far end of the bar rolled his eyes and sighed. He tipped back his cowboy hat and called out, “Lay off will ya, Mad Dog? I already paid what my family owes ya.”

The leader of the gang, Mad Dog, stormed across the room. “Now listen here, you little runt!” Despite being much shorter than the burly stallion, the colt at the end of the bar never broke eye contact with him. “You ain’t done payin’ ‘till I say you’re done payin’, you understand?”

The beige stallion smirked. “Oh, I understand all right. I understand that you’re nothing but a two-bit thief, robbin’ the decent folk of this town!” His eye narrowed. “You should be ashamed of yourself, mister.”

The older stallion stepped back, bursting with rage. “What did you say about me?” he hissed. “What the fuck did you just say about me, you little shit?”

“Hey!” John shouted out, “Back off, and leave him alone!”

Mad Dog’s attention left the stallion and turned towards the group. “Oh, and just who are you supposed to be?”

“Just a concerned citizen.” John stepped off the barstool and stared the thug down. “Now get out of here before one of us does something we’ll regret.”

The thug and his cronies started to laugh. “Hey, fellas, looky here! This little runt thinks highly of himself, don’t he? I can’t even remember the last time I saw one of you unicorn types.” He advanced towards John menacingly. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Marston,” John answered simply.

Mad Dog failed to suppress a snort. “Marston? What kinda stupid name is that?” He flicked the underside of Marston’s hat. “Who do you think you are anyway, some kinda cowb-” His sentence was cut short as John landed a powerful right hook on the stallion’s jaw, sending him sprawling back against the bar.

“Like I said,” John told him threateningly, “Just a concerned citizen.”

“Get these fools, fellas!” Mad Dog shouted to his cronies, still struggling to pick himself up. The five stallions crowded near the door advanced towards them menacingly.

Time to try out my new party trick, John thought, focusing his mind into his horn, using the magic that Twilight had taught to him over the past few days. It was just a simple levitation spell, but it was enough for him to pick up the biggest member of the group and send him tumbling into his friends. He would have done it again, but using magic was mentally draining, and he found himself unable to focus.

Drake, taken off guard by the sudden attack, tried to repel the brute coming towards him with a wild swing. However, the angry stallion dodged it and counterattacked, slamming the pegasus' head down hard onto the bar. Stunned and confused, he could do nothing as he was picked up and violently thrown through the front window of the saloon.

There was an almighty crash as Nate smashed through the thin glass and landed in a heap of the dusty road outside. Struggling to his hooves, he instinctively went for his gun that would have sat in it's holster, but he remembered that Celestia had forbid them to take firearms beyond the range, at least until "the time was right", as she put it.

The fight was already in full swing as the pegasus stumbled back inside. MacGrath leapt in front of him, picking up a small gang member and throwing him to the floor. Nate could tell, through the look in his eyes, that he wanted to unleash his powers upon the idiots, but that was a bad idea. It would most likely frighten and alienate the citizens of the frontier town, something they certainly did not want to do.

Before the injured gang member could get back up, Cole picked him up and threw him through the swing doors of the saloon, sending him sprawling into the street. “Yeah, and stay out!” he shouted after him, as the wounded stallion got up and sprinted away. With that, he went to help John and Ezio, who were brawling with Mad Dog.

By that time, most of Mad Dog’s friends had come to their senses and fled the scene, leaving only the gang’s leader against four angry stallions. He was a pretty decent fighter, Nate gave him that, but he was no match as the four of them overpowered him. With a brutal right hook, John knocked him back onto the bar. Before he could react, the gunslinger had pulled out a length of rope and was restraining him.

The doors to the Salt Block burst open, and a light brown earth pony entered, his sheriff badge glinting in the reflected sunlight. “Okay, okay, break it up!” he called out, his voice slightly muffled by his bushy black moustache, “What’s going on here, Apple?” he asked the light golden colt who had been the object of Mad Dog’s anger in the first place.

“Mad Dog came up in here again, demanding money,” he told the sheriff, “Luckily, I had these fine stallions helping me out.” He nodded towards John, who did likewise.

“Ain’t nothin’” Marston said modestly, “Just doing my bit to help out around here.”

“Well, you don’t see too many ponies like you around here anymore.” The golden stallion took his hoof and shook it. “Braeburn Apple. It’s a pleasure to meet ya, Mr. Marston.”

“Likewise.”

The sheriff, who introduced himself as ‘Silverstar’, walked up towards the bound Mad Dog, grinning smugly. “Well, well, well, if it ain’t the infamous Mad Dog. Not so high and mighty now, are ya pal?”

“Piss off,” the brute muttered as he was picked up and hauled away.

“Well, I gotta thank ya for sticking up for me back there,” Braeburn told the four of them as they dusted themselves off, “That darn bully has been terrorising the folks of this town for months. Now he’ll be locked up, and his cronies ain’t gonna do nothin’ without their leader.”

“Ah, it was nothin’” Drake told him, wincing in pain as he pulled out a few shards of broken glass that had cut his legs. “Always happy to help,” he grunted through gritted teeth.

“You alright?” Braeburn asked the pegasus as he sat down and ordered another drink. “That was a nasty crash back there.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been better,” Nate admitted as the bartender poured a shot of whiskey. He downed it immediately and ordered another.

“Y’know,” Cole started, trotting towards the injured fortune hunter, “There are better painkillers than alcohol. Come on, let’s get you looked at.”

Braeburn smiled. “Well, lucky for y’all my ma’s a nurse. Resident town doctor, in fact. Her clinic’s just down the road.” He pushed open the doors to the saloon. “Come on, follow me.”

Upon closer inspection, Drake realised he was more seriously injured than he first thought. Many shards of broken glass had torn up his chest and wings, and he couldn’t walk properly without wincing as more shattered pieces of the window dug further into his hooves. Straining, he took to the air, hovering slightly above the ground. His wings had not taken the full force of the impact like the rest of his body had, so he could fly above the heads of his friends with minimal pain.

The stallion Braeburn took the lead down the main road, leading them towards a relatively large wooden shack next to the town’s clocktower. A large sign above the front door read “Remedy Apple’s Medicinal Supplies”. Trotting up the porch, Braeburn held open the door for the injured pegasus as he glided through.

The air inside the clinic was surprisingly cool, however the distinct smell of sweat and body odour made the five stallions visibly cringe as they entered. There was a small fan humming in the corner of the dimly lit room, on a table littered with old, used magazines. A few ill ponies sat on chairs, waiting for their appointment. Noticing the injured pegasus enter, some of them uttered a weak greeting.

“Hold on,” Braeburn told Nate, leaning against the reception desk. “We’ll get you fixed up right quick.” He tapped his hoof down on the bell. A small ding echoed around the room.

A young mare, no older than eighteen, came trotting through a small archway behind the desk. “Hi Brae,” she called out, “What can I do you for?”

“Hey Strawberry.” Braeburn greeted her by tipping his hat, supporting Nate with one of his front hooves. “Is my ma in?”

“Yeah, she sure is. I’ll get her for you.” She turned her attention to Drake as he groaned in pain. “Whoa, you look pretty shaken up. Wait, let me guess. Fight down at the Salt Block?”

Nate chuckled. “You heard about that, huh?”

She nodded. “Word gets round town pretty quickly here in Appleloosa.” She held out a hoof. Drake shook it. “Strawberry Smiles. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Nate smiled. “The pleasure was all mine.” He stopped. “Wait, Strawberry? With a name like that, shouldn’t you be like, a baker or something?”

Strawberry chuckled and looked away. “Both my parents are pastry chefs. But me, I’ve always been more interested in helping ponies in need.”

Braeburn cleared his throat. “Uh, you two done?”

The mare blushed and hid her face slightly beneath her cream coloured stetson. “Oh, yeah. One sec.” She disappeared quickly through the doorway.

A few moments later, a middle aged mare appeared through a door to the right of them, beckoning for them all to come in. Her red hair was frazzled and her light yellow coat had lost some of its colour. She looked tired and overworked. Nevertheless, she helped Braeburn haul Drake into the hallway and into a small room, where she lay him down on a small bed.

“Good afternoon, Braeburn,” she said politely to her son.

“Hey ma,” he replied.

“So, who do we have here?” she asked him, looking over to the pegasus.

“There was a fight down at the saloon,” the beige stallion explained, “Mad Dog and his gang trying to rob us again. Luckily, these fine gentlecolts here overpowered him, and now he’s locked away, but not before one of his cronies could throw Mister Drake though the saloon’s window.”

Remedy winced. “I’m assuming some sharp cuts, and glass lodged inside him, then?”

“You betcha.”

Braeburn’s mother thought this over for a second. “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard to take care of.” She glanced over at the injured pegasus again. “However, I think he should stay overnight. He may have a concussion or something similar that we don’t know about yet.”

“No, I’m fine,” Nate protested, sitting up. “Just get this glass out of me and I’ll be on my way.”

Remedy shook her head. “No, I think it’s best you stay here. Better safe than sorry, I always say.”

Cole chuckled. “Well, looks like you have your accommodation set up,” he joked, “Which is more than can be said for the rest of us.”

Braeburn smiled warmly. “Well, you’re new in town, and since you’ve got no place to stay, I guess you can stay with me for a while.” John tried to protest, but he wouldn’t hear any of it. “I guess I owe you for getting me out of that little predicament earlier.”

Remedy Apple cleared her throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but if I’m going to help your friend, I will need to see him alone.” She ushered Braeburn, John, Cole and Ezio from the room. “Now run along. Brae, maybe you can give them a tour of the town?”

“Yeah, okay ma,” Braeburn answered. “C’mon fellas, there’s plenty to see here.” He grinned. “And there’s nothing I like more than making people feel at home in APPLELOOSA!” he cried, rearing on his hind legs.

The three ‘ex-humans’ stared at him. “Well, that’s certainly enthusiastic,” Ezio said, trying to think of a way to compliment the excited stallion as he lead them out of the clinic.

“Yeah,” Cole told them, chuckling, “This is gonna be fun.”