A Dodgy Business

by MLP-Silver-Quill


Chapter 1: Back to Dodge

A Dodgy Business
By MLP-Silver-Quill

Applejack usually loved trains. Had a knack for easing her nerves. Same way her daddy used to bounce her on his back until the rhythm set her to dreaming. Wasn’t quite working this time. Dang knots in her stomach wouldn’t unwind, like a lasso on a buck-wild bull.
The red-eye to Dodge Junction had left on time. Hardly anypony aboard, what with the hour. Anypony with a lick of sense got off at Ponyville unless they wanted a ride out into the frontier. All the greens of the grasslands faded into the mix of tan and brown with a stray cactus for fun. Applejack watched it all roll past.
“Ah, AJ?”
She cleared the cobwebs with a few shakes and looked at the speaker. “Sorry, big bro. Was lettin’ my mind go every which way. We’re almost there.” Big Macintosh sighed and nearly dumped himself into the aisle. He’d been as crammed as a pig in a chicken coop the whole way out. Last-minute tickets had been pricy enough. Couldn’t afford the extra-large seats. Not before apple-bucking season, anyway.
Which is just four days yonder. She sighed. It wasn’t right, her being away from the farm this close to the harvest. It hadn’t been an easy year. What with running off to Canterlot for a wedding (or invasion, depending on your view) and then to the Crystal Empire, then that cutiemark fiasco and the coronation, plus a hundred other little disasters that added up to a heap of trouble. Most ponies wouldn’t know by the way she acted, but Applejack considered herself a stay-close-to-home type. She might wander far and wide, but all paths led back.
Ponyville was where she belonged.
So what am I doing out here? She reached under the brim of her hat and pulled down the telegram. No matter how many times she read it, the words just didn’t add up.

In trouble STOP Please come back STOP Bring workers STOP

CHERRY JUBILEE

Ms. Jubilee had gone with the barest number of words to call for help. Not a who, what, or why. She wasn’t a stingy pony. If she was counting bits and needed help from outside Dodge Junction, well, Applejack’s belly did another clench.
“It’s probably nothing.” said Applejack.
“Eeyup.” Her brother nodded and gripped the window frame as the train traced a bend.
“Bet she just needs an extra set of hooves.”
“Eeyup.”
“Should be done in a day or two.”
“Eey—aaah!” Another turn, and Big Macintosh wound up sprawled in the aisle.
Need to stop moaning for apples. She reminded herself. For the next few days, it’s all about cherries. Cherry Jubilee had been good to her, as a friend and an employer. She’d taken Applejack in after that mess at the Equestrian rodeo, no questions asked. She’d been more than fair when Applejack had resigned to go back home. Even gave her a generous severance pay (minus the cost of those cherries her friends had turned to jam).
An Apple always honors her friends.
Big Macintosh gave up on the seat and plunked down in the aisle. He rested a hoof on her shoulder. He had a knack for giving her calm with just a touch. Spite of everything, big galoot looked happy. Unlike Applejack, he hardly ever set hoof outside of Ponyville. Applejack smiled at him and returned the telegram to her hat. They’d get their answers soon enough.
“Sir!” A conductor at the far end of the cart trotted down the aisle, gold button on his jacket flashing. “You’ll have to get back in your seat.”
Big Macintosh eyed the padded bench. Still had a half-indent from his flank. “Nnope.”
“Sir, I really must insist.”
Big Macintosh stood at full height, his mane brushing against the roof. Made real sure the conductor got a good look before canting his head to the look in the smaller pony’s eyes “Nnope.”
“Uh, right.” The collar of the earth pony’s dark uniform was damp with sweat. “I’ll just… uh… tell the driver to handle those turns, um, gently.”
“Eeyup.” Big Macintosh smiled to himself as the conductor slunk back and exited the cart.
“T’aint nice to scare working ponies, Big Mac.” Applejack said, grinning.
The train outraced tumbleweeds and chased dust storms. One patch of desert began to look like another. Applejack couldn’t see the sense of living all the way out here.
She had fond memories of the cherry orchard, though. It might be fun to harvest a new crop for a day or two. Show Big Macintosh what it was like outside the apple orchards. As long as they got back home quick.
The squat buildings of Dodge Junction pulled into view, and Applejack was on her hooves before the train came to a stop. Big Macintosh followed, pressed by the aisle and pausing to offer the conductor a hoofshake. Applejack was glad she’d slipped out first, though a tad embarrassed by her selfishness. She bounded onto the station deck. The heat was as solid as a wall. Twilight had said the trains had some kind of climate charm built into the frame. Constant spring weather indoors. Now Applejack had jumped smack-dab into the middle of summer, and a scorcher at that. Hadn’t even landed when a familiar voice called out.
“Applejack! Thank all my lucky stars!” The owner of Cherry Hill Ranch trotted across the platform. She looked… wrong. Though her green eyes flashed bright, the bags underneath and the strands of loose mane hadn’t been there when Applejack had left. Hadn’t a lick of energy to her step. Cherry Jubilee smiled, but all that did was deepen the creases around her mouth. She fell on Applejack and wrapped her forelegs in a tight hug. “I can’t thank you enough for coming back. I know it wasn’t easy or expected.” She glanced back at the train. “But, what about your friends? Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle and all them good folk?”
Applejack winced. Her first letdown.
She’d ask every work pony back home to come with her. Cherry Jubilee’s trouble couldn’t come at a worse time than harvest season. Every pony, from Golden Harvest to Rose was hogtied with her own business. Not a one could up and hop on the first train to Dodge Junction. Heck, even her friends hadn’t been able to come. Only her big brother, which left Sweet Apple Acres in the care of Granny Smith and Applebloom. Granny would keep an eye on the farm; and Applebloom… well, Applejack would hurry home quick as she could.
“Oh, uh,” Applejack wiggled free before she started turning blue. “I’m real sorry, Ms. Jubliee. Rainbow Dash was off at a Wonderbolts show. Rarity went to do some business in Canterlot and Twilight tagged along to visit her folks. Fluttershy’s helping with a zoo problem out in Phillydelphia, and Pinkie Pie…” Celestia forbid Applejack ever understand what Pinkie did. Ever.
Cherry Jubilee’s enthusiasm dried up and blew away. Her smile straightened and she fought a trembling lip. “So, it’s just you?”
“Nnope.” Big Macintosh emerged. The door frame groaned as he pulled through. Gave the cart a farwell flick of his tail.
“Oh my goodness.” Cherry Jubilee gasped. “Applejack, is this that big brother you were tellin’ me ‘bout?” She ran a hoof over the frazzled strands of her mane. Just made them frizzier.
“Sure is!” Applejack mustered up every bit of optimism. “I know it’s just us two, but we’ve harvested the whole of Sweet Apple acres every year without a lick of help!”
Big Macintosh cleared his throat. “Um?”
“‘cept for that one time, but that don’t count!” She shot her brother a quick glare before smiling at Cherry Jubilee. “Whatever your problem, Big Macintosh and I can help. Now where’re your manners, big brother? Say howdy.”
“Oh, charmed.” Ms. Jubilee batted her eyes and held up a delicate hoof. “Applejack told me she had a strong, honest brother. She didn’t say a thing about being so… muscular.”
“Um… Eeyup?” Big Macintosh gave the offered hoof a shake. Ms. Jubilee looked crestfallen for a half tick, then smiled at him. Schoolgirl blush spread over her cheeks. Was all Applejack could do to keep from busting a gut then and there.
“It’s a might bit public out here. What’s say we head on home?” Cherry Jubilee led them down the platform. Applejack followed her former employer around the station and into the dusty streets. She wasn’t sure they’d gone into the right town.
All the energy and bustle of Dodge Junction had vanished into the desert heat. Hardly anypony on the street. More than half the shops were boarded up or featured a “closed” side in their windows. Applejack saw one of the wagon team ponies that she’d “borrowed” during her attempted escape from her friends way back. The stallion caught sight, froze mid-trot. She waved hello, and the stallion went rigid as a post before darting into the nearest shop. Well, she had nearly gotten him run over by a train.
Cept it didn’t help that the nearest shop was a mare’s boutique. The stallion bolted out to a chorus of screams. A mare in a tailor’s apron followed him out, scissors clenched in her teeth. “An’ stay out, you no-good—” She went right silent when she saw Applejack and Big Macintosh. The scissors slipped out of her mouth and she was back indoors before they’d settled in the dirt.
Other ponies started ducking out of sight. Ponies she hadn’t had time to meet or get to know. Applejack prided herself on being right neigh-borly, but these frontier folk acted like she went and spat in all their drinks.
That drew her eyes to the saloon, which seemed to still be in high spirits. Plenty of saltlick danced on the wind, along with the sweet sting of cider and stronger drinks. A small cluster of folk rested on the saloon porch. At first, she thought it’d be more ponies, but she’d never seen a bunch of beings like those. One leaned against a support beam, mug held in a naked pink paw. Seemed able to walk on all fours or two legs, judging by its build.
“Allo there, luv!” A pink tail swayed back and forth, thick like a rope. The thing’s whiskers trembled as it took a swig. Wiping its snout on its brown fur. It grinned like a thief. “Fancy a drink? My treat, s’long as you find a way to pay me back!” Several more creatures in the shadows burst out laughing.
“Just ignore them.” Cherry Jubilee kept her gaze locked forward. “They’re not worth the trouble.”
The lead creature’s beady eyes followed them. Seemed to look all the way through her. Applejack suppressed a shudder. “Here, now, mum.” The lead being, dressed in a vest and bowler cap, called after Ms. Jubilee. “No need to go wandering off! Why not introduce us to your new girl?” He took a step off the porch, but Big Macintosh drew up next to Applejack. The creature sized her brother up for a moment, then retreated back to the shadows. “Another time! Not like I don’t know where to look, right lads?” More laughter.
“Don’t remember them fellas being here.” said Applejack once they rounded the corner. “Heck, don’t even know what they are.”
“They got called in just after you left.” said Cherry Jubilee. “And everything went downhill after that. It’s become a nightmare, Applejack. An absolute nightmare!” Her lip set to trembling.
“What’s been going on, Ms. Jubilee?” They were in a deserted part of the street, though Applejack could feel a good number of eyes watching.
Cherry Jubilee shook her head. “Ain’t safe to talk in the street. Never know who’s listening. But I can tell you, because every pony knows, that the territory ain’t what it used to be.” She glanced towards the sheriff’s office on the right.
A sheriff sat up front, back resting against a beam and spit-polishing his badge. Wasn’t the sheriff Applejack remembered from her last visit. Brown-red coat with a blonde mane. A pair of snake-eyes dice displayed on his flank. A sheriff whose special talent was luck? Or maybe gambling. Didn’t seem proper either way. He glanced up as they approached and removed his hat before smiling. “Ms. Jubilee.”
Cherry Jubilee huffed and pointed her nose nearly straight up before passing him by without so much as a glance. Sheriff looked right pained as she passed. He nodded to Applejack and Big Macintosh but said nothing. Put his hat back on and went back to his badge like it would grant him a wish. A bulletin board next to the doorway had two fresh posters fluttering in the breeze. These creatures Applejack recognized, though only from books and bedtime stories.
Even by troll standards, those two were downright ugly. Blunt teeth reached on either side of their pig-noses. They had shadows for eyes, and Applejack wagered she’d never want a closer look. Bounty signs named them:

Flick Grumble: 25,000 bits
Pick Grumble: 25,000 bits

“Fifty thousand bits?” Applejack’s mouth hung like a busted storm shutter.
“Don’t go getting any foolish ideas!” Cherry Jubilee rushed past the posters like the trolls themselves were watching. “I didn’t ask y’all to come out here to chase brutes like them. Worse than the Varmin, they are!”
“Varmin?” Applejack glanced back the way they’d come. No sign of the critters, but she had a feeling they’d left their drinks behind.
Cherry Jubliee nodded, “Dealing with the Varmin day after day is bad enough, but anypony who’s gone off to collect that bounty ain’t never returned. Nothing we can do about those two, so let’s just get back to Cherry Hills and I’ll fill y’all in.”
Cherry Hills Ranch rested at the edge of town with green reaching out in all directions. Sight made Applejack a little more relaxed. She asked, and Ms. Jubilee agreed to a stroll between the trees. Applejack closed her eyes and listened to the land as only earth ponies could. The wind in the leaves said it all.
We’re ready. Our fruit has grown ripe. Our branches are strong and far-reaching. We want to give you our bounty. Why has no one come to claim it? We crowd one another now. Our branches clash. The cherries are crushed as we press for space. Where have our caretakers gone? When is the harvest?
And for the love of all things photosynthesis, why hasn’t somepony gotten rid of that blue thing?
Applejack snapped out of her state. Blue thing? The hay had that come from?
Passing under the low-hanging branches, Applejack took a gander at a cherry cluster. They looked ripe enough. Past time for harvesting. Branches needed a good trimming before they got too tangled.
“Ms. Jubilee, where are all the worker ponies?” For a moment, Applejack feared this might all be her fault. Maybe Ms. Jubilee hadn’t been able to fill her place after she and her friends went on back to Ponyville.
Cherry Jubilee seemed to read her expression. “It ain’t got a thing to do with you, dearie. I had plenty of workers to fill in when you left—though not half as good.” She offered a wink, and for a moment she was the happy ranch owner Applejack had known. “But, well, times are changing. I’ve only got one worker now.” She looked around as if expecting a wrecking ball to come flying past. “He’s… um…”
A crash sounded at the other end of the orchard. The shock went through the whole property and bounced several cherries off their heads. “What in the hay?”
Cherry Jubilee sighed. “There he is.”

XXXXXX

The doormat said Welcome, but Rawley Ratsnout guessed that if he flipped it over, it would say to my feast. He thought longingly of a pint, still cold, waiting for him back at the tavern (or whatever these yokels called it). His mates were probably toasting his memory right now, sizing up which one would lead the gang thereafter. Well, they were a decent lot of back-stabbing, self-serving blighters. He was sure they’d at least wait until Ms. Preda gave the sad news before looting his stuff.
Rawley was from a proud line of Varmin. But not too proud. No, his folks had made it because they knew when to duck, when to scurry, and when to pounce. He’d learned the art of the Sneak from his old da, his spirit now at rest in the Infinite Garbage Bin. Rawley could still remember seeing a glint in his father’s eye as Rawley tripped him over so the Bandersnatch would go after the right meal ticket. The son became the father, as the father became dinner. Rawley had taken his da’s words to heart. “The Varmin who strikes too soon gets caught. The one that strikes too late misses out. You gotta time it just right.”
If he didn’t go through with this, one of the lads might try and slip in first. Harumphey, most likely. He’d always had a shine for Rawley’s post. Or maybe Whiskers. Score some points with their employer like a greedy, back-stabbing tosser. Rawley would.
The white-painted building was the closest thing the Dodge ponies could get to a mansion. The west-facing side was all but scraped clean, exposing the dark wood underneath. Word was Ms. Preda had ordered some marble to give it a more regal look. Aye, and might as well hang a noose over the doorway while she’s at it.
He opened the door after a courtesy knock. The staff had all resigned when she bought the house from its previous owner. Rawley had never understood this “loyalty” rubbish. Seemed a good way to get yourself dragged down with the other bloke. Sure, he looked after his mates, but if it came time to cut and run, he’d be the one to cut first.
His whiskers trembled at the rush of potpourri that escaped. Overpowering, it was; like a perfumed fist right up his snout. He made a vow to swing by the back alleys for a whiff of the good stuff, then knocked again on a wood door frame to undo the jinx.
A sweet humming worked its way from the upper floors. Rawley followed it, his paws bouncing on the thick carpet.
Vaulting the stairs on all fours, he scurried down the hallway and drew up short next to a cracked doorway. The peach tiling beyond was taintless, and the entire room smelled of—the Infinite Garbage Binhelp him—soap. Taking his bowl cap in one paw and pinching his nose with the other, Rawley drew behind the curtain that shielded the doorway from the rest of the room.
“Mr. Ratsnout.” said a voice that reminded him of silk sliding across a dagger, “I declare, most of my visitors at this hour are more gentile.”
“Um, beggin’ your pardon, mum.” He worried at his bowl cap with both paws. The soap fumes brought tears to his eyes, but there was something thick and sweet underneath. Something he couldn’t quite place. “You see, me mates and I were sharing a pint, just down the way—”
A petite splash made him shut up. Ms. Preda said, “If I cared, I would go out of my way to ask. Your point, sir.” Now he recognized the smell. Meat. Raw and fresh. Shouldn’t be able to get that in Equestria. Local big wigs made it illegal.
“Yes, mum. Y’see, I thought you should know that Jubilee mare went and got herself some new workers.”
A pause. Just enough to hint surprise. “Really now? I wouldn’t have thought any ponies in the territory would want to pitch in with her.”
“They’s from out of the territory, mum.” Rawley swiped at his brow and thought of fermenting orange rinds. “Two ponies, a mare and stallion.”
“Two?” Ms. Preda giggled. He could just make out the shape of her tub and the profile of her sleek head through the curtain. Some of the water sloshed as she trembled. “Misery appears to be into small company these days. Why, I’d not give them a day before they turn tail and scurry off. With respect, Mr. Ratsnout.” He didn’t believe that for a moment.
“Thing is, these two ponies looked pretty sturdy. Mare’s got a fierce gaze to her, and her brother—they’s brother and sister, you see—he’s a whopper. Think they work at an apple orchard, given them cutie marks they got.” Never understood those marks neither. Why let the competition know what you were good at when you could just blindside ‘em?
The water sloshed as Ms. Preda slipped free of the tub. Rawley marked her sleek profile through the bath screen. Her wings flapped off droplets of water while she reached or a towel. Her talons scratched against the tile. He looked down and studied the scratch marks at his feet. Sweet, pungent rinds. All mine, soon… just stay respectful…
“Well,” Ms. Preda plucked a silken robe from a wall hook, “I suppose it wouldn’t be fun if they didn’t put up a little fight. And a meal is only enhanced with a little appetizer. Be a dear and round up your fellows. We’ll have to arrange a proper, introduction.” She waited a beat, and when Rawley hadn’t bolted, she said, “Now.”
“Yes mum!” Rawley dropped to all fours and sprinted, thinking only to snatch up his hat at the last second with a tail flick. He bounded down the stairs, and headed for the nearest alleyway garbage bin.
First the rinds, then the blokes, then the ponies.