Fan Fiction (Working Title in which Applejack gets Kidnapped)

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This fiction has no title yet. It was going by the working title of "Stealing Harmony" but Chrisbiby beat me to the punch. It is currently in-writing at about the eighth chapter, planned on being eleven in total. The following is Chapter 1, which is titled "The Night Train".


~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Kidnapping? Isn’t daht a bit of a dark way to stardt things off, bozz?”

The voice spoke with a strong zebrine accent as he played the devil’s advocate to the dark figure’s plan, splayed out in yellowed sheets of paper on a desk lit by a fading bankers lamp. The figure remained unmoved.


“It’s practical, given our current situation.” said the dark figure, coldly.


“Oh, I do not know… definitely is nodt in his character.”


“What’s it matter if we get the mares we need in the end?” interrupted the figure impatiently.


“And show up on de doorstep with dem all tied up? Monty is bound to ask questions, ahnd he will not like his interests being so brutally demonstrated.” replied the Zebra aptly, taking a sip from a glass of water.


“Let’s move on; what Monty doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”


“Right, so, de unicorn will be relatively simple, although she might have a few safeguards to dtink about. Bein’ a’magical one ahn ’all.” replied the Zebra, leaning over the desk.


“Got that covered already, what about the other one?”


“De earth pony on de farm? Well, she’s not de one I’m worried aboudt.” He pushed forward a folder with picture of an orange mare and a large red stallion with a collar around his neck, both smiling, in front of a barn.


“Right…big brother an’ all.” The figure raised a limb to his head, the gesture obscured by the shadows of the smoky and dimly lit room.


“Ahnd he won’t take kindly to anydhing remodely close to what you are proposing…” The figure relinquished his limb to a resting position back on the desk.


“Our guys can handle it, we’ve fried bigger fish.”


“If you say so, bozz” The zebra leaned away from the table, resting on the chair that was facing the desk that they had pored over.


“Right then, so we’re ready with the Call?”


“What if de engie say no?”


“Already prepared a bribe, and if he refuses, we know where this ‘Evening Star’ lives. We’ll get the essential elements. Don’t worry.”


“No can do, bozz. You pay me to worry about your plans.” finished the zebra with a smile, as he leaned back into the office-room’s darkness.


“You think it’ll work?”


“Never doubted it from de first word.”




A youngish stallion sat on the porch of the Ponyville station, waiting patiently for the special night train’s arrival, watching the night sky that was still and as dark as ebony, emblazoned by the glare of soft moonlight. Occasionally his look would return north and south to check if the signals down the tracks were still the prohibitive red. No change, just as he had left them in the signal house half an hour before. The loneliness of the earliest morning night shift was not something commonly observed in Ponyville. He glanced behind himself at the schedule board that hung underneath three synchronized clocks, each offset by an hour. The whole night was blank except the one train. Other times night trains might come and go- midnight or early morning being a good way for freight to move in and out without being obscured by pedestrian traffic near the rails during daylight, or the ungainly noise being ill-appreciated only by light sleepers. But the nature of the call to the dispatcher resonated in the mind of the engineer as he remembered it, and something about it made him feel slightly uneasy.

In the distance, a haunting whistle faintly echoed throughout the valley. He stood, in preparation for the arrival. He checked the schedule and saw that whatever this “M.B.E. Special” was, would be arriving precisely on-time.


In short order a headlight could be seen traversing down the length of straight track that entered into Ponyville, and the whistle sounded twice more. Momentarily the locomotive whizzed past, and did not appear in sight for very long; although it was obvious to see it was a very large and streamlined engine, and painted in a handsome scarlet as well, it was still moving quite quickly. It passed by the platform of the station, hissing and singing steam out of its valves and openings, decelerating slowly before it came to a stop, letting show a set of baggage cars with a matching livery. The locomotive began transitively chuffing softly and regularly, as steam continued to pump inside. After a small moment, one of the sliding doors of the baggage car slammed open, ushering forth a large grayish silhouette in a wide-brimmed hat. The stallion couldn’t see the face of the figure under the shadow cast by the platform light. The arrival was very imposing, as he approached the night engineer.


“‘M.B.E. Special’, 3:30 via Ponyville?” he said, trying to avoid sounding like he was nervous. He checked off the time on a clipboard.


“That’s me.” said the giant creature, adjusting a pair of black gloves. He seemed to be standing on his back legs, and didn’t quite resemble a pony in any sort of form, and even if he did, he would have been a very large one. The voice was somewhat gravelly, and trying to be inconspicuous.


“Water-stop or-”


“Freight.” he said flatly.


“Oh. What tonnage?”


“Four-hundred and fifty, arrival and departure. No unload.”


“Righty then, I’ll get you an invoice.” Before the stallion could move, the figure reached into what appeared to be a pocket of a jacket and procured a slip of paper with a stamp.


“Exemption.” he said, with a tone that seemed only but tolerant. The night engineer was only able to get a single glance of the paper, which looked official enough but didn’t manage to examine any of the details well, before the figure retracted it. The seal looked quite familiar, indicating the coat of arms for the Royal Equestria Rail concern.


“Ah. ‘Nice to meet another federal worker-”


“Not really.” he interjected in a foreboding tone, as he returned the slip to his pocket.


The engineer stallion stood in an uncomfortable awkward silence, before he retreated to sitting down at his chair near the schedule. The figure seemed contented to simply be standing by himself on the platform, looking either at the train or into the night.


On the other side of the baggage car, a contingent of smallish diamond dogs and ponies in gray coats wearing small black hats, dashed out into the night. They separated themselves as they ran, one group going up one lane and the other traveling down a different street. They moved silently under the waking darkness of the pre-dawn sky, their only illumination being the street lamps on the corners of the sleeping town. Their skittish running seemed to bear only mischief, at the very least.


The first group crept up to a large-trunked tree adorned with various protrusions of windows and balconies, upon it reading a sign that said “Books & Branches Library” in large, friendly letters. One of the ponies among them, a unicorn, cast as spell upon the doorknob, opening it silently. Four of the rapscallion ponies crept inside of the treehouse, winding their way up the library steps until they found themselves in the room of Twilight Sparkle. Very gingerly and carefully, the unicorn wound a small chain around Twilight’s horn using magic to carry it, twisting it slowly and delicately so that it fit into the helical grooves. Twilight groaned quietly but comfortably in her slumber, making the ponies freeze for a brief moment.

As soon as the unicorn had wrapped it, he gave a small nod, which prompted two other earth ponies to viciously bind Twilight’s legs and wrap a cloth around her head tightly over her mouth. She jerked awake at the violent movement around her limbs and neck, but found herself unable to render any protest apart from infuriated and fearful mumbles and spastic but fruitless movements with her legs, which she was horrified to see she was well-and-truly hog-tied. She tried to free herself with magic but her forehead felt as if it was numb, which scared her all the more.

Spike awoke from the odd noise, his eyes flashing awake as he saw the shadowy figures begin to carry Twilight up from her bed amidst her struggling. Immediately the dark behatted unicorn’s attention was drawn by his movement.


“HEfh!” Spike managed to utter, before the unicorn stuffed a gag-like cloth into his mouth, and bound his feet with a small metal chain.


“She’ll be back. Just don’t do anything stupid.” hissed the unicorn, and ran down the stairs along with their wide-eyed and frightful prize, carried on the backs of the other pony intruders. Spike belched a flame which burned up the towel in his mouth, shouting


“Twilight! Come back you no-good jerks! TWILIGHT!”




On the far end of town, Big Macintosh was starting to take stock of the horizon that he could see from the porch of his home. The sky was a crepuscular dark marine color, still covered with stars. One edge to the east just over the reach of the mountains was the thinnest possible seam of lavender, where the sun would be rising, given a few hours or so. The only intrusion into the crystal sky was the plume of smoke coming from obviously some late night train in town, but it was one of those things that Macintosh didn’t mind. In fact, he liked trains. Maybe he’d visit the station some time just so he could see one in finer detail some day.


“Eeeyup.” he admired, as he finished taking stock of the glory of the morn. With one large quaff he downed the entirety of the mug of (very) hot tea he was holding, popping his eyes open with the sudden arrival of temperature now coursing its way through his gut. He placed the mug down on the stoop and began a jolly walk through the orchard down to the area where not too long ago Rainbow Dash had made fine work of the woodwork that used to be a barn in the southwest corner of the Acreage. His hooves had a wonderful tingling sensation has he walked, they gathering dew and making a most pleasant contrast to the warmth of his drink in his belly.


Beside the sad pile of exploded wood sat the old pulling cart, the sort of vehicle that was made of such tough stuff that if it could speak, it would have a good laugh after being thrown off a cliff. He began loading it with scrap pieces of wood, thinking about how either the scrap would need to be sold for firewood, or how he’d have to break it to Rainbow Dash that (although fast, ) annihilating old sheds wasn’t the most practical way of demolishing them. Big Macintosh enjoyed the early morning work, rising before even birds sang, so that he could fully appreciate the sound of the day as it awoke and unfurled around him. This often meant he would rise as much as an hour before even the earliest inclination of his sister.

Applejack was in her room and up quite early for her normal time. She was looking in the mirror, holding her hair with a hoof. “Maybe Rarity was right about that brushing stuff. I guess there’s no harm in tryin’ it out…” She thought, moving her hoof through the golden mane once or twice. She was lost in thought with words that had been said the day previous about fashion and practicality. They both had said things that rung true for each other, and Applejack was finding herself somehow more and more seriously entertaining the idea of buying a brush so that she might use it.

“Rarity is a good friend- a lot better than I used to think. Thanks to Twilight’s slumber party. What a night that was…” she recollected.


Out beyond the farm, the running of the intruding group went unnoticed as they slipped through the gate and into the unlocked front door of the Apple home, expertly slowing their jog to a crawl up the stairs without making so much as a “clip” or “clop” in the transition.

Into the hall the intruders slipped silently, taking great care to avoid making the floor creak. Using a small mirror, they checked under the seam of the door of the first opening in the hall of the house. Through it they saw a yellow filly resting on her bed, head turned away and towards the window. The second room seemed empty, furnished with an unmade bed, stool and what appeared to be a stuffed toy looking out the window. They continued to the gap of the door to another room with a greenish old mare resting on a rocking chair with a ball of yarn and a crochet hook caressed between her hooves, which she seemed to be drooling on. The intruders realized that the door to the room with the light on had to be their objective. They did not want a confrontation, and approached with hesitancy. The a unicorn held up a net, it glowing with the same color has his horn, and he mouthed,


“One, two, three-“


They burst through the door, Applejack turning in shock to see the five or six delinquents exploding into her room.


“What’n the-“ the net was thrown and two of the diamond dogs pinned her down by the shoulders as they then tried to push a rope around her legs.


“Hey! HEY! HELP! Get off me ye varmints!” she screamed, kicking one in the face and clear off her person, only to be subsumed by a different one. With much bitter struggling and several other hooves thrown, Applejack found herself being pulled out of her room with a gag in her mouth. Apple Bloom hearing the confusion, sprung out of bed and down the stairs to see the shadows cast by the unkempt assembly that was making away with her sister. She began following them out of the house with a yell.


“You big meanies! Get off my sister!” The unicorn threw a net around Apple Bloom, then using the same magic, tossed her to the side. Applejack’s anger burned at this and she gnawed through the cloth over her mouth.


“You dirty dogs, yer gonna pay for that! Help! Macintosh!” she screamed, wrestling even harder and making it all the more difficult for the intruders to carry her.


Help! Macintosh!



The cry was faint and distant, but Macintosh’s reaction was automatic as his ears perked up at the anomalous cry. It was uncommon and therefore serious if ever he heard such a combination of words. He dropped the piece of wood he had and began to move in the direction that the sound came from. With complete disregard to the fact that the cart was still latched to his collar, his hooves treaded hard as he quickly gained speed, fighting the weight of the loaded cart as he accelerated up the hill. His adamant plodding once the knoll levelled off quickly became a break-neck sprint as he saw the source of the yell: his sister, writhing and being carried by somethings.




With the utter grace and nobility of an enormous red rockslide, he crashed into the assembly that was carrying his sister at full speed, sending many of them flying and breaking the tethering yoke of the cart as it sped off and flipped, taking with it one of the diamond dogs. Macintosh dove at some of the beings there as they continued to escape with Applejack. His rage rewarded a square hoof in one of their jowls and a kick laid into the gut of another, before his fight was interrupted with a


A diamond dog struck him in the back of the head with a frying pan.


Dazed for only a moment as he lay on the ground in a pained stupor, the group of the offenders ran off with Applejack as she hooted in anger, before she became muffled again, unnaturally so. The one that was hit by the cart appeared to have regrouped, indicating he had been down on the ground for longer than he thought.


“AJ!” exclaimed Macintosh, and he rose to his full height. Running with the utmost urgency, he could see he was gaining on the party of the kidnappers. The distance between them had grown large and concernable, as he pursued the intruders, flying past trees and eventually past the darkened doors and windows of street after street in Ponyville. One of the ponies that was carrying Applejack pulled up a whistle and blew into it gently three times. It made a high-pitched tone that was barely audible.


The dark figure on the platform perked up at the sound, some distance away, and his shape seemed to change to something most displeased.


“Hey, er, when did you say you were going to be headin’ out?” asked the engineer stallion, idly. He stood as the figure began walking towards him, the figure doing so on his hind legs. The figure procured a knife and held it menacingly at the stallion’s throat while advancing upon him, forcing him backwards in surprise.


“At my discretion. Good day.” He punctuated his statement by pushing him through the door of the station, then slamming it shut. With that, he put away the knife and procured his own whistle, giving two strong toots and then re-embarking the baggage car. On the other side, the two groups of the dark figure’s lackeys loaded their prisoner mares aboard the train. As soon as they had, the locomotive sounded its whistle twice. The engineer of the broad and sleek locomotive slammed the throttle lever all the way out, ushering a tremendous “WHUD” of pressure to whelm the bulkhead of the boiler and a belch of gasses from the funnel.


Macintosh galloped through the town seeing where the kidnappers had tread and began to use the plume of the locomotive’s steam as a landmark.

The driving wheels of the locomotive creaked and then burst to life with a shuddering of rapid spinning as they slipped upon the crisp cool rails, before they slowed and registered traction. The train began quickly garnering speed, completely ignoring the still red signal above the track. Macintosh saw what was happening and poured his energy into the pursuit of the train as it began to depart, running faster and faster than he thought he’d ever run in his life before. Abject fear drove his instinct, and he didn’t feel the ache of the back of his head, or his bruised neck from the twisting of the collar which rended the cart’s yoke.


The train accelerated with impatience but Macintosh was gaining, his perspective showing the shape of the rounded tail car as it moved down the tracks out of Ponyville, and the light of the town fading, leading him only to follow the train’s faint silhouette and bright rear-end light. The silhouette seemed to grow as he approached it, and his hope grew with it. But soon to his horror its growth stopped, and began to shrink, as his strength reached its limit. He couldn’t run as fast as the speed of the scarlet train, as it fled into the darkness.


“No… AJ!” thought Macintosh, and he continued to burn his legs intensely with the pounding of his hooves into the track bed, slowly but surely losing his chances of catching the vanishing train. He chased it for what seemed to be whole leagues, not even a glance given to see how far he had succeeded the limits of Ponyville or the illumination of its streetlights. The train seemed nothing but resolute as it continued to get further and further away and Macintosh’s eyes went wide with the realization of the completion of its escape. It rode on, crossing onto a trestle. The stallion, seeing the change in the ground and the spaces between the ties forced himself to stop and stomped on his rear legs, which tripped against the stony ballast of the track bed. He careened forwards and tumbled as a tremendous pile of pony and momentum, rolling with a deplorable thudding noise, sliding to a stop on the tracks with his head resting on the hard and unfeeling rail, as the train thundered on. A faint whistle echoed into the morning. The fading rumbling resonated in his aggrieved jowls through the tracks. He lay there in a pathetic heap.


“AJ!!” Macintosh hollered in desperation.


The only remnant of its existence was the quickly fading red rear-end lamp. The train had disappeared in its distance, and the night was once again silent.

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How about the Missing Apple?



Because Twilight was kidnapped as well. In addition, it is conveyed later that the dark figure is a subordinate of a Gentleman Thief Diamond Dog.

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