//------------------------------//
// Extraction 
// Story: A Fistful of Apples: True Grit is Magic 
// by Alsvid 
//------------------------------//


The spaceship was heaving and shuddering in its death throes. Applejack found the elevator ride back down so nerve-wracking she kept a firm hold on the wall the entire time. Grimes had chosen to sit down, undignified though it was, and the Sheriff was nearly bent double trying to keep his balance.

No one said anything. They were all too tightly wound to speak. They were waiting on one thing only; for the doors to open again.

Very shortly they did. Applejack shot down the green-lit passageway, with her companions in her dust. The floor bucked spectacularly just then, throwing Applejack into the wall. There was an ear-splitting explosion, somewhere deep in the bowels of the ship.

She scrabbled to her feet, half crawling, half running at first.

The exit hatch lay just before her. Applejack spared a quick look back. There was another explosion - this one sounded closer. Warm air, with a foul, oily smell, washed over her - probably the shockwave from the blast, Applejack thought.

"CELESTIA'S SAKE! GIT THE LEAD OUT! C'MON!" she screamed back at the Sheriff.

Then, without waiting to see whether they followed, she sprinted for the exit hatch.

Applejack kept running. If anything, she put on another desperate burst of speed, her heart thudding in her chest. Running-pains were stabbing her guts.

Then the final explosion hit her. Applejack felt herself lifted and flung - she screamed, and the sound was lost in the roar - then, abruptly, she hit the ground, and all was quiet.

Applejack lay still for a moment. She couldn't quite believe all her parts were there. She wiggled her legs and arms just to make sure. The vibration from the blast gave her pins and needles, like you feel when you've been sitting cross-legged for a while, or leaning on your arm. It added to her misery.

Her ears were ringing, and her eyes swam, the world around her a mere blur. Applejack rolled onto her back, and winced. The burns from the Intelligence's attack still stung.

It forced her to sit up. She shook her head, and knuckled at her eyes, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She saw the Sheriff lying prostrate nearby, and a small ball that must have been Grimes, half-sunk in the dirt and dust.

Then she noticed a little group of people around her. A man was standing over her. Applejack's breath was taken away by the richness of his raiment - a fine pin-striped suit in blue and white, a cravat, a wide-brimmed hat, red leather shoes, and a white dress shirt. His hair was a fine, red, curly mat, and he had a fantastic red mustache.

Before Applejack could say anything, the man was pumping her hand in his own - he had very large, strong hands - in a most affable way, and roaring in a fine, clear, jolly voice. "Well, look at what we've got here, brother of mine, the savior of our little town! Delighted, delighted to make your acquaintance, my dear lady! How wonderful to see you back in one piece! You must certainly tell us all about what you saw inside! And don't forget to include how you defeated the..."

Applejack sank back to the ground, her eyes fluttering closed. All her remaining strength left her at once in the gentleman's wall of enthusiasm.

She heard a melodramatic cry of shock, and opened her eyes to find a woman standing over her, practically in an arabesque pose. Applejack noted that she was heavily laden with jewels and precious metals, and that her dress - purple, spangled with stars, probably of satin or silk - was most definitely of a foreign make. The woman's light blue hair was most elegantly styled in a flattering cut curling about her head and cascading down her back, shimmering in the sun. Elbow-length gloves adorned her hands. Her high-heeled leather boots were obviously imported.

"Oh, the poor girl! Mr. Flam, sir, we do our honored guest wrong by leaving her here like this! Look at her! She's in a state of distress!"

Applejack bit her tongue at the idea of herself ever being in 'distress'. But the woman carried on relentlessly. She had a loud, imperious voice, and gave orders like one used to doing so.

"Quickly, some of you! Maybe you, Derpy, or some of your employees! Take her - and her little friends - away. Give them food, and drink, and a hot bath. Give them brandy and licorice and perhaps a warm glass of milk. Oh, please don't cry, Miss, or The Great and Powerful Trixie shall be most upset! It's hardly becoming for one to be crying and blubbing and getting one's self in such an awful bother."

Trixie's foolish speech did much more than anything else, for immediately Applejack found herself being born aloft by many hands. She glanced around and found Grimes being hauled up like a sack of potatoes. That was the last thing that she saw before she finally surrendered to tiredness and shock.

Darkness swallowed her whole.