It was nearing twilight at Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was at the porch of her home, sitting on a rocking chair with a newspaper in her hoof, looking for something to read after a full day of working and picking up Apple Bloom from school. The poor filly was so exhausted that she immediately collapsed on her bed.
"Dagnabit," Applejack muttered as she read the newspaper headline.
Changelings take Tall Tale! Equestria to retreat from Coltfoalnia!
It had only been a week since the changelings crossed the border and they were already pushing deep into Equestria. It looks like Northwestern Equestria is nearly lost. Still the changelings are quite far away from Canterlot. She had just finished packed her produce, mostly grain, milk and eggs to ship to Canterlot to be donated to the military. Apples weren't ready yet, that's due next month. She continued to read the newspaper and sees another headline.
Octavia, sensation classical musician to play in Canterlot Grand Opera next week
Applejack continued to read the news article, curious on what a fellow Ponyvillian was doing to play her part.
"I organised this concert to raise the morale of the ponies of Equestria to keep fighting for harmony and see that we will prevail. I know the situation seems bleak but if we continue to fight for every beautiful thing Equestria has to offer, then I am certain that we will win. Worry not, for all of our profit we made from this will be donated to the Equestrian goverment to assist the war effort," Octavia told Equestria Daily
"War's not goin' that well for us, eh Applejack?" asked a sad voice from beside her.
Applejack turned her head to the voice to see Granny Smith standing next to her with a sad smile and a cup of cider. Granny Smith then gave the cup to Applejack which she took it and thanked the Apple matron. Granny Smith then walked to another rocking chair next to Applejack and sat on it.
"No it ain't, Granny Smith, we're not doing too good," Applejack sighed as she took a sip of cider.
"At least everypony is doin' their part, that's what matters, ain't it?" Granny Smith replied before continuing "Ah haven't heard of a single slacker from our kin at Appleloosa and Baltimare. Even yer Aunt Orange in Manehattan, that city fella, is doin' her part,"
"Ah suppose it's true, it's a slice of beauty when everything around us is collapsing," Applejack answered sadly.
"Good evening, Granny Smith, Applejack!" came a voice.
Both Applejack and Granny Smith looked to the source of the voice to see Derpy Hooves standing behind a fence and waving her hoof at them. Both of them approach the mailmare and greeted her.
"Well, hello there, young'un! What are yah doin' in these here parts?" Granny Smith asked.
"Oh! There's mail for you!" Derpy said before she buried her head in her saddlebag. She then popped up from her saddlebag with a few letters in her mouth. "Here you go!" she spoke in a muffled voice.
"Thank you, Derpy," Applejack took the letters. "Here, have an apple for your troubles," Applejack handed the mailmare an apple which she gratefully accepts.
"Thank you!" Derpy replied before she flew away from the farm. Applejack watched her until she disappeared into Ponyville before returning to her farmhouse alongside Granny Smith to check the letters.
"Well, what's it say?" Granny Smith asked.
"Hmm... there's a letter from the waterworks and the power company, sayin' the pay is due next week," she checked. "Then there's one from Big Mac too, another from Twilight and one for you from Goldie Delicious in Baltimare,"
"What's that last one for?" Granny Smith pointed to the last letter Applejack haven't yet checked.
"Oh this one? Well, it says it's from Canterlot, from the Ministry of Defense, Acquisition Division, let me look it through," Applejack tore open the letter and began reading its content.
Greetings,
We from the Ministry of Defense, Acquisition Division is formally requesting for your support for the war effort to protect Harmony and Equestria from the Changeling Hives. Your establishment would help Equestria greatly with its produce. We will be setting up a quota for your farm to follow. If you are feeling generous to donate more feel free to include it in the ledger when the acquisition team arrives next month. With that settled, the following are what the quota entails for each of your product:
Wheat: 30% of monthly yield
Apples: 30% of monthly yield
Dairy: 40% of monthly yield
Eggs: 50% of monthly yield
Any disagreement can be voiced by sending a letter to any of our departments throughout Equestria, address for each is on the next page, we will try to find a more favourable share that suits your preference.
Equestria thanks you for your service to the Crown and Harmony, may you be blessed by Faust.
Sincerely,
Cutting Wave
Head of the Acquisitions Division
Applejack continue reading and finally looked up from the letter to Granny Smith and said, "Well, somepony from Canterlot wants us to help with the war effort. Here," Applejack handed the letter to Granny Smith.
Granny Smith skimmed the letter, "That's a plenty they're asking," she muttered.
"Nothin' we can't handle, for the greater good. Don't want our boys on the front be eatin' grass now, wouldn't we?" Applejack answered.
Granny Smith chuckled. "That we don't Applejack, that we don't. Ah bet Big Mac's been missin' on Apple cuisine there. Might have ta send him some to cheer him up. But before that, Ah need mah rest," Granny Smith took Goldie's letter from the table before she retreated to her room. Leaving Applejack on her own on the dining table.
"Night, night, hun,"
"Good night, Granny Smith," Applejack answered.
Her thoughts lingered to what Silverstream had said to her last week.
Demands in war will always rise and will rarely plummet
She then thought of her idea of mechanisation. Just from thinking of the word made her face scrunched in disgust. Mechanisation was one of her most hated word to mention, if war hadn't come, mechanisation would be the most hated word in her lexicon. The mere thought of metal machines working her farm just irked her in so many ways. She imagined her farm filled with dirty grease and oily spare parts, her canals poisoned from fertilisers made in factories. She shook her head. Oh, it disgusted her. It made her want to throw up.
So she pushed that thought away. She regretted thinking of it in the first place. But it made her determined to not let her farm be under that notion.
She'll prove to everypony that metal won't replace mettle. She wouldn't allow it. Not on her watch.