“Fortunately for you, sweetie, it doesn’t appear that there are any lacerations within your rectum,” I said as I finished examining and cleaning Pillory with my magic. Ignoring the slaver as he murmured something under his breath, I added, “Still, you are quite bruised, so it would be better if you’d drink a healing potion.”

Turning around from Pillory, I trotted away from the mattress where the earth pony had been lying - on his chest with his flank raised so I could properly examine him (a position which had been understandably hard to convince him to assume) - and walked over to my room to retrieve one of the healing potions. Noting that there were only three left, I made a mental note to prepare a new batch and returned to Pillory, who by then had sat down normally.

“Here you are, sweetie,” I told him, placing the healing potion before him. “Now, normally that would be a hundred bottle caps,” I added as he bend down to pick it up with his hooves, “but I’m to charge you only when you are off-duty and I don’t really know if this qualifies as such. I will have to check with Black Widow for-”

Crack!

Shuddering because of the little scare the sudden noise of healing potion shattering on the floor of my clinic gave me, I looked with surprise at Pillory. The slaver himself seemed surprised as well, staring down at the spilled liquid that had been supposed to heal his bruised rectum at his forehooves.

“S-sorry,” he said after a second, stammering a bit. “It slipped from my hooves…”

If I hadn’t walked in on him raping somepony the other night, I probably would have felt sympathy towards him. It was apparent that Pillory was shaken by what he had been through; I was certain that was the reason why the healing potion slipped from his grasp.

Admittedly, though, it probably didn’t help that I’ve mentioned Black Widow’s name… I thought, watching how he still stared at the floor, almost hopelessly.

A sigh escaped me; though I was almost certain that sooner or later he would end up as one of my test subjects, for now I decided to treat him as I would any of my patients.

“It’s alright,” I told him, then looked back to my room; I bit my lip, pondering whether to use one of my remaining healing potions or heal him with my magic. Even if I could make more, it would take a while, and an emergency could always happen. On the other hoof, though, I would need my magic to perform surgery on Cutter and Manacles soon, and if there would be any complications… “I’m sorry, sweetie, I should have just used my magic to heal you,” I finally said, turning back to Pillory. “I’m just still a bit tired; those few hours of rest I had clearly weren’t enough.”

Which isn’t surprising, considering I’ve spent half of them down in my laboratory.

“I had hoped I could afford to avoid using magic until I’d have rested some more,” I finished explaining, sitting beside the mattress. “Could you please turn around again and-”

“Couldn’t you just do it the first time?” Pillory’s quiet growl interrupted me; at the same moment, though, he raised on his haunches and began to assume the position from earlier, sparing me from arguing (or rather, pointing out that I just had explained it).

Concentrating, I swept my magic down his rectum, casting a spell to mend it. Pillory shuddered a little, but didn’t react otherwise. The next few seconds went on in silence as I did my best to finish treating him quickly and to spare him discomfort; as I was close to being done, though, the slaver spoke up again:

“I didn’t mean to kill her.”

I tilted my head to the side to glance at his expression, but Pillory wasn’t looking at me. His head was turned towards the wall as he spoke. His voice sounded reluctant, begrudging; did he want to sound as if he wasn’t making excuses? I didn’t respond in any way. After all, what could I say to that? Instead, I let him talk as I resumed my task (while considering removing him from the list of my potential future test subjects, since it was possible he’d reconsider his life due to those events).

“All I wanted was some little fun, why the hell would I want to kill her? Fucking…” he muttered, shaking his head angrily. “I could have sworn the bitch was still alive after you paralyzed me with that fucking spell of yours.”

“Sorry about that, sweetie,” I finally replied, although without much conviction behind those words. A bit kinder, though, I added, “If it is of any consolation to you, I do consider the punishment you received to have been too excessive.”

After all, by ordering the devoid of free will Khan to rape you Black Widow essentially raped another person, I mused privately. But aside from that, that public shaming was unnecessary. Though I probably shouldn’t tell him that in her place I would have most likely gelded him…

Gee, Pinkie’s voice broke into my thoughts, the pink apparition deadpanning at me, ya think?

… if I didn’t just decide to make him one of my test subjects, I finished the thought, ignoring her.

It looked though that my words weren’t of any consolation to Pillory (despite me leaving out those unspoken details), as the slaver snorted angrily. Frowning a little, I finished healing his rectum, and stepped back.

“Alright, all done.”

“Excessive…” Pillory muttered as he rose from the mattress, shaking his flank as he turned around, the sensation of my magic sweeping through his rectum probably leaving him feeling somewhat itchy. “Consolation?” he asked, almost snarling at me.

I honestly cannot tell if he is asking me to explain what those words mean, I thought, a little baffled.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked instead, noting how he moved his flank. “Is your rectum-”

“You know,” Pillory interrupted me, taking a step towards me, “since you’re being so sympathetic, why don’t I help you along to understand just how I am feeling?”

“Sweetie, you’re angry and agitated,” I said gently, in an effort to calm him down; despite his words and the look he was giving me, I stayed my ground, unsure if backing away wouldn’t just provoke Pillory. “I’m sure if you take a few deep breaths, you will realize-”

“That I need to do something to take the edge off?” Pillory asked mockingly, interrupting me again, as he crossed the distance between us faster than I’d have expected.

Before I knew it, his forehooves grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me against the mattress. Though my fall was fairly painless thanks to that, the lack of sleep from last night caused me to react slower than I would have liked to; in the few seconds that I could have been readying the Anesthetic Spell, Pillory had jumped onto the mattress and turned me around so I was lying on my back, then pressed his hoof against my chest.

“You do owe me,” he said as he put more weight on his hoof, trying to sound casual, but the anger and lust made his voice sound more like a growl. “Black Widow might have forbidden us from having fun with slaves, but she said nothing about you.”

Within seconds, I found myself in a perilous situation. The pony I had just finished treating was threatening to harm me, and all I knew about him and slavers in general told me that it wouldn’t just end on threats. Dread swept over me as I saw him glowering from above while pinning me down to the mattress, paralyzing me with fear.

Or rather, it would have if this had happened earlier, before my journey to New Appleloosa and subsequent expedition to Stable Eleven. Because of those experiences, I had learned what fear truly was, what it feels like to stare into the face of danger. My current situation was dangerous to be sure, but Pillory couldn’t compare with the cold, emotionless stare Scope had after he murdered Burst and Blast, the wild, hungry for violence looks of twenty four raiders as they surrounded me, the fury of Clawface after I had trapped almost his entire raider gang in the Stable, or the cautious, promising death on a misstep gaze Jack had after I revealed to him that I kept a pony chained up in my basement. No, this slaver buck couldn’t strike the kind of fear into my heart that could paralyze me and render me hopeless.

Instead of panicking, I merely thought to myself: You are so back on the list.

If anything, all that Pillory managed to do was anger me. Now, I don’t get angry often, and even when I do it usually doesn’t last long and said anger isn’t strong; it would be more accurate to say that I became very annoyed and upset. But the thought that this buck, whom I had just finished healing, for free at that, and who wasted a perfectly good healing potion, who had raped one of my patients and whom I had offered words of sympathy, was about to rape me? Oh, it made my hackles rise, to say the least!

As Pillory continued to pin me down, and his free forehoof began to travel down my body, I stared him dead in the eyes and said calmly, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Oh?” Pillory exclaimed, amused, his hoof still sliding down. “And why’s that?”

I rose my head up so that my face would be closer to his. “Because if you do,” I told him quietly, narrowing my eyes, “the next time you wake up there will be a gaping hole between your hind legs.”

Black Widow wasn’t the only pony capable of intimidating slavers with just her voice and gaze, as Pillory had just learned. His eyes became wide open as he stared down at me, clearly not having expected me to speak with such cold fury, and it was with some satisfaction that I noticed that the hoof on my chest had began to tremble. After a second or two had passed, the weight that was pressing on me had grew lighter, and Pillory looked as if ready to back away.

“Angel?” the voice of Apple Core came from outside of my clinic, followed immediately by the sound of the door being opened… and then partially fall out thanks to the broken hinge, causing the slaver mare to utter a surprise yelp. “What the fuck?!”

“Over here, sweetie, I’ve just finished treating a patient,” I called out; the space in my clinic where I had been examining and then treating Pillory had been shielded from view by two hospital curtains that I pulled out from the spare room. As Apple Core tried to close the broken door, I turned back to Pillory, and once again my expression turned dark and cold. “Get off me before Apple Core kicks your flank,” I hissed, preferring not to be found by her in such situation.

Pillory, probably more worried about his own health rather than avoiding my slight indignity, jumped away from the mattress and wisely backed away. Satisfied, I rose back to standing position, straightened my lab coat and fixed my mane so that I would look like I hadn’t just been thrown against the mattress. As I finished, Apple Core trotted around the curtain and peaked in.

Her expression narrowed immediately as she spotted Pillory. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, walking in. Her face then became amused as she added, mockingly, “Don’t ya have a striped lover t’ see ‘bout now?”

“Apple Core!” I exclaimed, shocked by her words, then frowned at her. “Honestly, I would have thought such a cruel jest at Pillory’s expense was beneath you sweetie.”

But Apple Core wasn’t bothered that I’ve chastened. Glancing at me, she merely shrugged, then turned back to Pillory. “Skedaddle, party buck, Ah’ve got business with ‘er.”

Pillory, his lips pressed so hard against each other in his impotent anger that they formed a very thin line, didn’t bother with any reply. Without a goodbye, he trotted around Apple Core and headed for the exit. As he passed the slaver mare, though, he shot me a quick glance over his shoulder; noticing that I was looking at him, he turned away and hastened his trot.

“And close that stupid door carefully,” Apple Core called after him before addressing me. “The hell happened t’ it, anyway?”

Before replying to her question I decided to chastise her one more time, “I would appreciate sweetie if in the future you’d refrain from antagonizing my patients,” I said, frowning at her. As Apple Core opened her mouth to reply, I answered her, not giving her the opportunity to argue with me, “As for the door, the hinge had simply broken on its own.”

“Oh,” Apple Core exclaimed, and gave the door one last disinterested look as Pillory closed them behind him. “Ya should ask Forty ‘bout repairin’ ‘em.”

“So I’ve been told,” I said calmly. Trotting around her to get to get to my room, I decided to bring up the subject that I expected she wanted to discuss with me. “Now, I assume that by ‘business’ with me you are referring to our little drug operation? I haven't sold any of my products while you were gone, as I had told you before you had left week ago; I would have brought up too much attention to myself and I doubt I would be as successful seller as you seem to be.”

“That’s, um, ain’t what Ah’ve wanted t’ talk with ya ‘bout,” Apple Core interjected, making me look over my withers in mild surprise.

“Really? Pity, I had hoped we could resume our business operation, with all the expenses I’ve began to run out of bottle caps…” I began to say, only to stop as a yawn escaped me. Covering my mouth quickly with a hoof, I apologized, “Forgive me, sweetie, I hadn’t gotten enough sleep.”

“Yeah, Ah figure. ‘Ere,” Apple Core told me, reaching back to her saddle bags and pulling out a bottle of Sparkle-Cola, much to my surprise and delight. “This should help ya wake up.”

“Oh, thank you very kindly sweetie,” I said, accepting the bottle from her, then opening it and taking a sip. The carbonated, carrot flavored beverage began at once to stimulate my body, causing me to feel more rested, even if only by little. And it was quite tasty, too. “Hmm, delightful. It’s not often that you bring me any drinks or food here,” I pointed out, looking at Apple Core curiously. “Usually you insists on me accompanying you to the tavern.”

“Yeah, well…” the earth pony replied, rubbing the back of her head, suddenly very awkward. She sighed and said, “Look, Ah’ve gotta talk with ya. And it looks like it’s about t’ rain in soon and I would like t’ get t’ mah bed dry, so can we leave talkin’ ‘bout drugs and stuff tomorrow?”

I blinked, confused by her behaviour. “Why, yes of course. What do you want to talk about sweetie?”

Now Apple Core seemed even more awkward, and embarrassed to boot. She avoided my gaze, instead looking around the clinic. “W-well um, ya see… Somethin’s been botherin’ me this past week, and today I’ve been thinkin’...”

“So, could ya, ya know… ya know?” Apple Core asked, no less awkwardly than she had been throughout this entire, few minutes long conversation.

“Well, of course I can,” I replied slowly, frowning thoughtfully. “I’ll need a bit of time to come up with a proper procedure based on available resources… can you wait until tomorrow before we schedule an appointment?”

“Yeah, sure. Ah'll also get some chems from ya to sell to those schmucks.” Apple Core uttered a relaxed sigh. “Thanks Angel.”

I very much wanted to ask her what was she planning to do, but I had no right to ask. Not to mention that I would know soon. Besides, there was something else that I wanted to ask, possibly even more.

“Think nothing of it, sweetie. However, I am still confused about one thing,” I told her, tilting my head a little. “Could you please explain to me what’s a ‘period’, exactly?”

At the same moment I started to form that question, the door to my clinic opened. As we were still standing in the same spot rather than my room, the person who walked in (revealed to be Jack when I glanced in the door’s direction) was able to hear what I said. Guessing by the tired deadpan that immediately formed on his face, it wasn’t something he wanted to hear.

That deadpan disappeared though even quicker than it had appeared, thanks to the broken hinge of my door. Jack’s attention shifted to it as the door began to tilt sideways. As he walked around it to close it carefully, Apple Core, who like me had looked at the door when we heard it open, turned back to me, slightly red on her cheeks.

“How the fuck can’t ya not know what a period is?!” she hissed, annoyed.

“Because Stable ponies don’t have those,” came an answer, not from me but from Jack. Both me and Apple Core turned back to him to see him closing the door and turn back to us. As I blinked in confusion, wondering what could that possible mean, he raised a paw to his eyes and rubbed them. “Look, I’ll explain this shit to her, you can leave if you want.”

“Don’t mind if Ah do,” Apple Core replied at once, quickly trotting in the direction of the door. She stopped after taking a few steps, though, and looked back at me. “What we talked ‘bout stays private, right?” she asked, slightly worried, with a brief glance at Jack.

“Doctor-patient confidentiality, sweetie,” I assured, smiling. “I would never speak about my patients. ‘Whatever, in connection with my professional service, or not in connection with it, I see or hear, in the life of others, which ought not to be spoken of abroad, I will not divulge, as reckoning that all such should be kept secret,’” I recited solemnly a part of my oath, placing a hoof over my heart.

Apple Core raised an eyebrow at that. “A simple ‘yes’ would ‘ave been fine,” she said after a second, although with a smirk.

“As if I would care about whatever health issues you have,” Jack cut in with an annoyed sigh as he walked over to us.

The slaver mare scowled at him, but then quickly shook it off as he turned his head to her and raised his eyebrow (either reminded that she clearly didn’t want him to know, or that she found him scary). She cleared her throat and looked back at me, “Well, anyway, thanks. Ah’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, sweetie,” I told her in turn.

Apple Core began to trot away, but as she was about to reach the door she turned back to Jack. “By the way, boss said that ya’ll ‘ave quarters ready in the barracks.”

“Yeah, she mentioned,” the griffin replied, shrugging. “Believe me, I won’t stay too long here - unless it starts raining - and certainly won’t sleep under the roof of the most annoying pony ever.”

I pouted. “Sweetie, that’s uncalled for-” I began, only to have his talons grab my muzzle and force it close.

To my mild annoyance, Apple Core snorted with laughter. “Oh wow, Ah forgot ‘bout ‘at! When boss was talkin’ with ya ‘bout yar skills, ya should ‘ave opened with how ya can do this.”

“I’ll be sure bring it up next time,” Jack replied without humor, waving her goodbye with his free forepaw as the slaver mare left, closing the door behind her carefully.

Only then did the griffin release my muzzle. “Was that necessary?” I asked as I massaged my muzzle, resuming my pout.

“Yes,” Jack replied snipply. “I got the feeling that Black Widow has her suspicions regarding you, so I would prefer if nobody would think that we’re working together. As far as she knows, I find you utterly annoying and wouldn’t have a problem killing you.”

A cold shiver travelled down my spine as I realized that what he told Black Widow was very likely the truth.

“So it’d be best if more ponies see me interacting with you with reluctance. Although I would probably shut you up anyway,” he added with a shrug, “you talk way to much. Now,” he said, ignoring the stare I gave him, “how about we go see that basement of yours?”

I almost nodded instinctively, partially out of fear as he stared down at me with narrowed eyes, but also because that had been my plan in the first place. I didn’t, though, possibly partially because a part of me was hoping to prolong the time before I’d have to reveal so much about myself and hope he wouldn’t kill me.

But mostly, I didn’t because there was something else I was concerned about.

“No, wait sweetie,” I told him, frowning. “What’s a ‘period’? You said you’d explain it to me.”

Jack’s expression turned into a deadpan. “Are you-” he began after a heartbeat, only to stop and facepaw. “For the love of… alright,” he sighed, sitting down on the floor. “In your Stable, you and every other mare went through heat, I mean, the estrous cycle, right?”

“Of course we do,” I replied, now incredibly confused. Where was he going with this? “Doesn't every mare go through it?”

To my bemusement, Jack shook his head. “Not in the Wasteland. Well, in most cases. As far as I can understand this, sometime throughout the last two hundred years ponies biology adapted to the Wasteland’s conditions. Most mares now go through a monthly cycle rather than a yearly one. It’s called menstrual cycle, and a ‘period’ is specifically what we call the time when…” he hesitated, becoming slightly uncomfortable, “... when a mare bleeds from her vagina, which lasts a couple of days.”

I listened to him, mouth agape, as my mind reeled. Even after he finished, it took me a moment to form a reply. “That’s… incredible!” I finally exclaimed. “I had no idea ponies had adapted that well into the Wasteland in mere two hundred years! I knew about the fact that they can eat meat now, of course, but to modify physiological process… that’s simply incredible!” I almost began to pace around from the excitement. Already I was planning in my head all kinds of tests I would conduct on Thorny Locust and Apple Core if she’d agree, while ignoring the somewhat worried glances the apparitions of Fluttershy and Pinkie were giving me. “It must be because of the decrease of pony population, isn’t it?” I asked Jack, then, not even giving him an second to reply, I looked away and brought my hoof to my muzzle, pondering. “What am I saying, of course it must be it, it would be easier for ponies to repopulate Equestria if they’d be able to become pregnant every month rather than one month out of the year … the lack of sunlight probably contributed as well, after all the estrous cycle is controlled by photoperiodism… that must mean the pegasi mares go through estrous cycle, similarly to mares from Stables, right?” Again, I asked Jack, and again, I didn’t wait for an answer, although this time the griffin managed to open up his beak before I looked away. “Considering that they have an entire civilization up there in the clouds and free access to sunlight… you must tell me more!” I finally decided, trotting closer to Jack. “How long does it exactly last, what are the phases of it, what are the signs-”

My muzzle was again held closed by his paw. Jack glared at me through his narrowed eyes before speaking, “Congratulations, you’ve officially found a conversation more disturbing than the discussion about you having a pony chained in your basement. Until a minute ago, I didn’t think that would be possible. Now, for the love of fucking everything, could we please get on with the latter?” he asked, annoyed, as he released my muzzle.

After briefly massaging my muzzle again, I frowned at the griffin. “First of all, sweetie, I have three ponies chained in my basement now-”

“Why did you feel the need to tell me that?” Jack questioned with a confused and exasperated expression on his face.

“- second of all, menstrual cycle, just like estrous cycle, isn’t disturbing, it’s a natural body process that is essential for reproduction, thirdly,” I began, only to take a step back as Pinkie pointed out to me that Jack’s forepaw twitched; suspecting he was about to silence me again, I decided to skip what I was about to say (about how important it is to a doctor like myself to understand everything about a menstrual cycle) and go straight to what I had been saving for my last point, “y-you want to go to the basement now? It’s only evening, somepony could always come in. It would be better if we wait until the night.”

Jack smirked. “Oh, don’t worry about anybody coming in, I’m sure nobody will bother us.”

I frowned. “What do you-”

KA-BOOOOOOOM!!!

A yelp escaped me and I jumped up as the explosion outside startled me. I looked to the windows of the clinic, where for a brief moment a bright flash had been visible, but there was nothing that I could see outside. It was almost pitch black; the clouds, already dark by the morning, had been growing darker as I slept, and by the time I woke up they were almost pitch black.

The next second I realized I could hear a steady, rhythmical buzz, a very loud one at that. At first, in my disoriented state, I feared that whatever this explosion might have been had damaged my eardrums.

“W-what…” I stammered, turning to Jack… who was chuckling to himself.

“A storm. A real cloudburst, seen it coming this way while I was out patrolling the area earlier.”

A storm. That made sense. Now that I had calmed down by Jack’s relaxed attitude, I realized that the buzz I was hearing was the sound of rain falling upon the roof of my clinic. And the explosion from earlier…

“So that was a thunder?” I asked, curious.

“Yep. I’m a bit surprised that you hadn’t heard any earlier; there hasn’t been any lightning close for an hour or so, but I heard a few when I was on patrol. I didn’t think that I was that far from Appleloosa,” he said dismissively, shrugging.

“Oh, it must have been when I was napping then,” I realized. “Considering how tired I was, it’s not surprising I didn’t hear any… though that one would have certainly-”

KA-BOOOOOOOM!!!

“- woken me up,” I finished after I calmed down by another surprising thunder.

Jack appeared as if he wanted to question why I had been napping, but he probably figured out what could have been the reason related to it, and decided not to ask. “Anyway, it will be like this for a while, so I doubt anypony is going to come and visit you. And if they ask about me, we say that I visited you to pass on thanks from Blast and Burst’s parents for your eulogy, stayed too long talking about them and got stuck because of the storm.” After explaining, he paused for a moment, then in a calmer tone. “They did say thanks, by the way.”

My ears dropped as I recalled the funeral. Looking down at the floor in sadness, I asked, “How did they take the news?”

“About as well as one can expect,” Jack sighed. “Then again, it’s not like death is something rare in the Wasteland, and mercenaries generally don’t live to a ripe old age. They were glad that at least they’d gotten a proper funeral, or at least as proper as possible,” he then added, shaking his head with a slight grimace on his face.

Nodding silently in acknowledgment, I stayed still for a few heartbeats, then I turned around. I didn’t want to talk about the two brothers, their funeral or their parents right now, just as much as Jack clearly didn’t. Dwelling on it all wouldn’t solve anything. Worse, considering what Jack and I were about to talk about, it would be almost insulting. As if I was trying to spark some sympathy in griffin by bringing up his friends and the brief time we’ve all shared.

“Close the door, sweetie, just to be safe,” I asked him, nodding at the entrance, and continued to walk in the direction of the basement’s door.

I grabbed the bottle of Sparkle-Cola Apple Core had brought me. After taking those few sips I left it on one of the beds, forgetting about it as I listened to her. Now I took another sip from it, even though I knew that drinking such beverage wouldn’t calm my nerves, quite the opposite in fact. However, as I had thought about what could transpire down in my basement, I suddenly felt as if a dry lump was stuck in my throat. For the first time in probably ever, I found myself wishing that I was drinking something… stronger.

Well, this will be the moment of truth, I thought, accessing the terminal to open the door. We learn what Cutter knows, and whether what I am doing can be accepted by those living in this world.

You know, the ponies you’ve captured had done pretty nasty things, Pinkie - who had just looked around again, as if looking for something; this had happened so many times since the morning that I had stopped even reacting to that - pointed out, although a bit reluctantly. They were bad ponies.

But does this make it right? Fluttershy asked Pinkie, frowning unhappily.

Would you rather see them continue to harm good ponies? Pinkie countered.

No, of course not! But it doesn’t mean it’s alright for Angel to, to… torture them!

Well… Pinkie said with uncertainty, looking away from the other apparition as she rubbed the back of her head.

A sigh escaped me as they basically recited all the previous arguments all three of us had gotten into this past week. Darlings, I’ll make my case before Jack and let him decide whether it is right or wrong. Not that it won’t be more than just his own opinion, I added, sighing again, but at least we will have the opinion of an average Wastelander. An average Wastelander that is reasonable and adheres to some moral code, to be specific, I specified.

“The door’s closed,” Jack informed me as he walked over to me.

I nodded in silent thanks, my hoof on the door… and I stayed still. Closing my eyes, I took a calming breath. “Can I make a request?” I asked, not looking back at Jack. “If you do decide to kill me… there is a recording on my PipBuck. If I am to die, I think I would like to die listening to it,” I said, splaying my ears against my head. When after a few moments he didn’t reply, I sighed in mild annoyance, rolled my eyes, and looked over my shoulder. “Look sweetie, if you’d be worried that this is some sort of trick, you can first cut off my horn and cut my artery, then let me play it.”

The griffin’s expression was unreadable. “It’s not that,” he replied, shaking his head, then amended, “although now that you’ve mentioned it… I was merely wondering how come you are so certain that I will kill you if I don’t like what I see and hear down there?”

“Because of two reasons,” I told him, turning back to the door and pushing it open. Walking down the stairs, I continued, “Firstly, for admittedly obvious reasons, most people would find my experiments to be… revolting. Even if I could prove that my tests subjects had committed heinous, unforgivable crimes, ponies could still find them to be too cruel. Secondly, you probably already suspect that I am considering conducting my experiments on you, now or in the future, so you might want to kill me for your own safety. Of course,” I told him, stopping by the bottom of stairs as I waited for him to join me in laboratory, “that’s not true, as I only capture those who have committed acts that would strip them of their right to be called sapient beings. Which is something I will do everything in my power to convince you of.”

I perked my ears; the sound of rain, so audible from within the clinic, was gone. The thunders, though, I could still hear, although they were very muted out.

“Everything in your power, huh?” Jack asked as he joined me, raising an eyebrow, then took a look around my laboratory while I drank Sparkle-Cola again and placed the half-empty bottle on the desk. “So this is what a mad scientist’s lair looks like?”

“I’m not mad, sweetie,” I told him, frowning, “my mother had me tested.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta say, it is unnerving that she had you tested in the first place,” Jack countered with a snort.

I paused for a heartbeat to deadpan at him, then cleared my throat and continued: “And this isn’t a lair, it’s my laboratory.”

“So did you come up with the ‘strip them of their right to be called sapient beings’ excuse before or after I told you that about the raiders?” Jack asked me, not interested in what I’ve said.

“It’s not an excuse, sweetie, but a stance,” I corrected him. “As for when I ‘came up’ with it, before leaving Stable Eight I wouldn’t have used the term ‘sapient beings’ but ‘ponies’. Considering that now I live in the Wasteland with many other sapient species, using the term ‘ponies’ would be… well, racist, to be frank.”

Jack looked at me with a raised eyebrow and opened his beak, as if about to comment on that. After a moment he closed it, considering something in silence, then finally asked, “Even if all your test subjects are ponies?”

“Sweetie, it’s the principle that matters,” I replied calmly, which was met with an unexpected reaction: Jack slammed his paw against his face with an audible sigh. Frowning slightly at the display, I continued, “If I would continue to say ‘done things that had stripped them of their right to be called ponies’, it would suggest that only ponies exhibit sapience required to have morals, which I think you’ll agree is-”

“By the Egg, please stop,” Jack groaned, interrupting me. “You’re not a racist, I got the picture.” Satisfied that he understood that (if a bit upset about the way he said so), I finished my argument. The griffin sighed again and looked at the three doors, figuring out that those were the ‘cells’ in which I kept my test subjects. “So you’ve got a slaver medic - like yourself - here and two slavers?”

“One’s a slaver, the other’s is one of the raiders the slavers had brought in; she was part of the group I’d trapped in Stable Eleven,” I explained, curious why he was asking about it; considering his comment, I suspected we were still on the subject of my test subjects’ morality. “On that note, I’ve only brought her in today, so she might start cursing at us once the sedatives wear off again,” I warned him. “I locked my Mister Handy robot in there with her to apply another dose should she start making a ruckus again. I’ve also locked it in there so you wouldn’t be overly suspicious about its presence,” I quickly added when I noticed how his brow furrowed at the mention of the robot.

Jack glanced suspiciously at the door I’ve pointed at, then turned back to me, “Okay, I suppose I could agree that ponies like those could deserve to be locked up like this. Maybe,” he added, then narrowed his eyes as he continued, “But what about ponies in your Stable?”

Despite expecting that this subject would be brought up, my heart had skipped a bit. This would be the more difficult to explain, as my banishment has made evident.

The griffin pointed at the cells. “This was why you were thrown out, wasn’t it? Experimenting on ponies… Blast told me about the talk you had in that tavern, you know,” Jack added, his eyes becoming as cold as ice when I looked into them. “How you had caused a few deaths of your patients. You were talking about your experiments, weren’t you? How many was that, exactly?”

“Four,” I replied, then a bit reluctantly I began to explain, “and they had been my patients, so-”

“And what exactly had those four done, huh?” Jack asked, sitting down on his haunches and crossing his forelegs on his chest.

There it was. That question, question that I knew he would eventually ask. Question to which there was only one way I could answer. And even though I knew only too well how he could react, that fact had helped me to calm down. Fear had left me as I looked him in the eyes, without any reluctance or hesitation.

“Forgive me, sweetie, I can’t tell you that.”

Jack snorted. “Can’t or won’t?” he asked, sarcasm clear in his voice.

I wasn’t about to indulge him. “Didn’t you hear what I’ve told Apple Core?” I said instead. “I’m not in the liberty to talk about my patients.”

The griffin’s suspiciousness gave way to a surprise, which quickly turned into an annoyance. “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You kidnapped, tortured and murdered them, but talking about their secrets is where you draw the line?!”

Despite his outbursts, I continued to regard him calmly. “It doesn’t matter what you say to me, sweetie, I won’t break my oath. I will not reveal anything about my patients.” And with that, to demonstrate that I considered this discussion to be over, I turned away from the angry griffin. However, for the first time in the last half of minute, I hesitated. Whether because my fellow stable dwellers’ sentence still stung or some other reason, I glanced back at Jack and added, “Can we please talk about my test subjects now?”

Jack snorted again, his gaze turning up at the roof. “Fine-” he began to snarl, only to stop abruptly, his eyes slightly widening and looked at me with confusion.

He wasn’t the only one. The two apparitions were also staring at me, having noticed the distinction I had just made. Angel? Fluttershy asked, surprised.

Well, all three of you are more observant than the entirety of my Stable, it would seem, I remarked. Then again, I couldn’t exactly allow myself to imply even this little…

“Are you ready to speak to Cutter?” I asked Jack before he or the apparitions could dwell deeper into the subject.

The griffin was still gazing at me, no longer with annoyance or anger (or disgust), but instead with confusion and surprise. After a few more moments, he finally slowly nodded. “Yeah… how do you feed all three of them?” he asked before I could open the door. When I looked back at him with confusion, he elaborated: “I mean, how the heck do have enough food for three more ponies? Didn’t anybody here got suspicious?”

“Well, the bartender and owner of the Salt Block saloon, Frank Fellow, came to me five days ago with a fever, other signs of cold, and some swelling. It turned out that it was the equine viral arteritis. An equine viral disease transmittable by sexual intercourse,” I explained to Jack. “When I explained that to Frank Fellow, his reaction made it plain that he hadn’t caught it from his marefriend. His marefriend who, according to the rumor circling around Appleloosa, had beaten the last coltfriend who cheated on her to death. Luckily for him, she was away with Apple Core’s group collecting the raiders from Stable Eleven, which meant that I was able to cure him before he could infect her. Of course, treating it isn’t exactly easy, and I stressed out to Frank how many supplies and my magic I would need to spend before bringing up that I had been hoping I could start stockpiling food so I could feed the slaves - as the rations the slavers give them may have caused them to be malnourished - once they capture them. I might have forgotten to mention that I don’t divulge informations about my patients to anybody,” I added, frowning, “considering that Frank Fellow said he would get me food as long as I wouldn’t tell anything about this… I think he believes I’m blackmailing him.” I said, then noticed the deadpan on Jack’s face. “Admittedly, I didn’t correct him, but I had been considering making him my test subject - and I still do - so I feel less inclined to set this misunderstanding right.”

“Wait, why do want to capture a bartender?” Jack asked, frowning in confusion.

“Because he serves brahmin meat,” I replied, shuddering; I could still remember how it tasted when, in my ignorance, I’d tried eating it.

“... and?”

Jack’s bemusement upset and disappointed me. “They’re sapient,” I said, narrowing eyes at him.

The griffin’s eyes again darted upwards. “You know only about one in ten brahmins has a talking head, right?”

“Talking isn’t a sign of sapience, sweetie,” I told him coldly, my face almost twisting into a snarl briefly. Closing my eyes for a second to calm down, I added, “And I happened to meet an adorable heifer whose both heads were perfectly capable of speech and their behaviour-”

Jack’s paw grabbed my muzzle again. “Alright, sorry,” Jack told me briskly, then released me. “You’re right, they’re sapient,” he added more calmly. “But I would like to point out that about a third or a fourth of food vendors in the Wasteland sell their meat; are you going to capture all of them for your experiments?”

“I would consider it in each case,” I replied, having already thought about this matter (and having talked about it with Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie). “Depending on some other factors, I might decide to make them my test subjects. However, I expect that in most cases I would resort only to talking with them about brahmin’s sapience. And besides,” I added, shrugging, “when I become the Princess of Equestria, I’ll ban their meat and grant brahmins full citizen rights.”

Jack didn’t reply, instead continued to stare at me silently for several seconds, before pressing his paw against his face, uttering a heavy sigh. I narrowed my eyes at him in mild annoyance as I waited for his comment, but he didn’t make any.

“Anyway,” I continued when I was sure he wasn’t going to say anything about my plans, “I decided to leave Frank Fellow be, as thanks to him I have a steady supply of food for test subjects; and before you ask, I intend to give some to slaves too, though I am reluctant to feed those raiders they’ve captured,” I added, not wanting Jack to think that I’ve lied to Frank. “Besides, considering how many ponies who are worse than him are in Appleloosa, I’m pretty sure I won’t run out of test subjects. And in any case, I believe I have successfully discouraged him from purchasing any brahmin meat in the future,” I said, unable to not smirk at the memory.

Jack uttered another sigh. “Oh please, do tell,” he said.

Although I was almost sure that he was mocking me, I decided to tell him nonetheless. “Frank Fellow had let me take a look at his magazine so we could come to an agreement which of his supplies he would give me and how many. While he wasn’t looking, I poured a concoction I’ve prepared on the brahmin meat; injecting it would cause symptoms similar to food poisoning. On the next day several ponies got sick, and one is believed to be dead by everypony else; he’s now chained over here,” I briefly mentioned, pointing at the other cell. “This whole matter caused everypony to believe that the meat had become unfit for consumption, and Frank Fellow had mentioned to me since then that he’s not going to buy anymore from his contact in New Appleloosa because of this.”

“Okay, that was pretty clever, I will give you that,” Jack commented, sounding a bit reluctant for some reason. “How did you make everypony believe that this one slaver was dead, though?”

“Oh, I just swapped his body for the corpse of another pony which I had conducted a plastic surgery on and dyed to look almost identical to him,” I replied, shrugging.

To that though the griffin had narrowed his eyes at me. “Why did you have a pony’s cor- ugh, you know what, fuck it, I don’t want to know,” he groaned, cowering his face with his paw again. “Let's get back to our business before you sidetrack me into another ridiculous conversation.”

I pouted slightly at his reaction, but saw no point to argue. Taking a deep breath in anticipation of what could transpire afterwards, I opened the door to Cutter’s cell. Almost immediately we were assaulted by very unpleasant odor of urine and excrements. Of course, I had grown used to those smells, but seeing Jack recoil in disgust and cover his nostrils made me realize that perhaps I should look into getting Air Purifier Talismans.

The pony inside was lying beside the opposite wall, huddled and chained to the pipe. With his unkempt and dirty mane and coat he made a really pitiful sight; or would have if I had a reason to pity him. All his ribs were visible under his coat, as only recently I had acquired the means to keep him and the other test subjects fed sufficient enough to prevent such loss in weight. Cutter shook as the door opened, rising his head a little, then turned in surprise to Jack.

“Hello, sweetie,” I spoke quickly, not wanting him to develop any false hope; I wasn’t cruel. (Fine, darling, I’m not that cruel, I amended as Fluttershy gave me a look.) A shudder went through Cutter the moment I spoke, and he turned back to me. “We were hoping to have a chat with you. Would you like to stretch your legs a little?” I asked, figuring that Jack would prefer to talk in the relatively clean air of my laboratory rather than in his cell.

As I used my magic to pick up the keys to his hoofcuffs, I noted to my disappointment that his eyes had darted again to Jack.

“Oh sweetie, don’t do this to yourself,” I told him, saddened that he was apparently considering a possibility of being free. “He’s not going to help you. Not after I tell him about all the foals you let die because… what was the reason you wrote in your notes?” I asked, my sadness evaporating. I entered the cell, my gaze cold, causing Cutter’s eyes to bulge and him try to back away against the wall. “‘Too worthless to save’? ‘Won’t bring enough caps, it would be a waste of supplies’?” I asked, reciting what I read in both his notes and some of Black Widow documents she allowed me to look through when I asked her about Cutter’s previous ‘patients’. “Tell me, Cutter,” I continued, drawing so close that I could very well whisper this to his ear; I made a point for Jack to hear it, though, “do you even remember their names?”

The slaver medic, who was shaking from fear, looked away, unable to meet my gaze. Once his eyes had fixated on the floor, I waited a few more heartbeats before, satisfied that he abandoned any silly notion of hope he might had, I smiled. I raised my hoof to his cheek and gently lifted his head. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” I told him, now that my disgust had abated again feeling saddened. “But you must understand that you won’t leave this place. Especially considering what could happen,” I added, giving a meaningful look at his abdomen. Cutter, following my gaze, gave a tired nod. “Now, will you behave?”

“Yes Mistress,” he said, his voice tired and broken.

Satisfied, I let go of him, used the key to unlock his hoofcuffs, then left his side so he could stand up and walk out of the cell. I knew his condition was good enough to manage that without help. I was more interested at the moment in seeing Jack’s reaction to our little exchange.

Unsurprisingly, I was met with disapproval on the griffin’s face, bordering on disgust. I’d imagined that he had it throughout my entire conversation with Cutter. What did surprise me, though, was that instead of looking at me as he left the cell, his attention was more focused on my test subject, as he began to walked out slowly, dragging his-

“Why is his leg a different color than the rest of him?” Jack asked, his disapproval having gaven way to confusion (along with disgust).

I blinked, then looked over why whiters at Cutter. “Oh, right,” I exclaimed, only now realising how odd the brick colored left foreleg of an otherwise gray colored pony must look like. “Do you remember how the explosion in Stable Eleven had caused Apple Core to lose her leg, and how it was damaged?” I asked Jack as I trotted over to sit next to him. When the griffin nodded, I continued: “Well, it got me thinking, what if the leg had been too damaged for me to heal it after stitching it back? Either I would stitch the wound close, forcing Apple Core to become a cripple, or I could take the leg from one of the three bodies and transplant to her. However, I had no idea if any of them would be a compatible with Apple Core for her body to not reject the leg, I had no means and I wasn’t in a condition to conduct any tests. Which is why shortly after returning I began researching ways to make it possible to transplant body parts regardless if they were compatible or not,” I said, looking at Cutter as he waddled out of the cell. I gave his barely mobile leg a studious look. “I switched his and Manacles legs and cast on each a different variation of the spell we use in Stable Eight to suppress the pony’s immune system so that it wouldn’t reject a transplanted organ. I’ve modified it, of course, in order to work on non compatible ponies, but both of them have started to show signs of rejection. Which I had expected, the chances that either version - I cast a different spell on each of them - would work were only about 1.75%,” I added, shrugging. Seeing another shudder go through Cutter, I smiled sweetly. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m going to replace your organs back later tonight; it’s obvious that I have to abort this experiment and try again,” I sighed, unhappy, then frowned, realizing that I forgot to mention something… “Oh, right, and I also swapped their kidneys,” I told Jack, “so I will really need to switch those back.”

The griffin cast me an annoyed stare. “You swapped their kidneys? Didn’t it occurred to you that he might die before I get here?”

“Don’t be silly, sweetie, I’ve been checking on them to ensure that wouldn’t happen,” I replied, a little offended. “As soon as either he or Manacles would start showing signs of rejecting the transplanted organ, I would have scheduled their next surgery. Also, I expected that this would have taken place before you’d arrived,” I admitted, before giving Cutter’s leg another look. “The spell must have worked better than I had anticipated.”

“Fascinating,” Jack snorted. “Can we leave the land of stupid conversations and get on with the reason I’m here?”

I raised my eyebrow to demonstrate my discontent regarding his choice of words, but didn’t argue. “But of course, sweetie,” I merely said, slightly bowing as I ostentatiously presented Cutter to him.

The griffin at first looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head in annoyance, then turned to the unicorn buck. His eyes briefly shifted to Cutter’s transplanted leg, which he favored as he sat down, holding the area where his and Manacles’ flesh met. “What do you know about Scope?” Jack finally asked, his eyes drilling into Cutter’s.

At first, Cutter merely blinked. “S-scope?” he finally repeated, as if unsure if he had heard him right. He cast me a nervous glance before replying: “I, I don’t-”

“Brown unicorn, rusty mane, about forty?” Jack interrupted, getting impatient. “Had a sniper rifle and almost permanent scowl on his face?”

Cutter began to show signs of recognition when Jack had just mentioned his body’s colors, thought. “Oh, him,” he exclaimed, his voice sounding almost excited. “W-what happened? Did, did he kill Black Widow?” Cutter asked, looking from Jack to myself.

A growl from the griffin’s throat brought his full attention back to him. “No,” Jack simply said. I could almost hear him think: He killed my friends; I actually half expected him to say that. “How did you know him?” he asked instead, his tone of voice almost threatening him to dare deviate from his questions.

Cutter must have gotten that message, as he shuddered again and looked as if ready to back away from him. “I… I mean,” he started, working his mouth as he tried to segregate what he wanted to say. “I didn’t know him, I just knew Black Widow was afraid of him, and I remembered seeing him in New Appleloosa a few times.”

Jack frowned, then looked at me. I shrugged, understanding from this babble about as much as he. Deciding that we needed a different approach, I gently touched Cutter’s shoulder to get his attention. The grey unicorn shook as if struck, but he calmed down when he saw me smiling at him.

“Perhaps you should start from the beginning, sweetie?” I suggested. Reaching with my magic, I grabbed my Sparkle-Cola from the desk and offered him a sip. “Why don’t you tell us more about Black Widow?”

Cutter nodded in agreement, his eyes shifting to the beverage. As his magic was suppressed by my spellbane potion and he couldn’t use his transplanted leg very well, I lifted the bottle up to his lips for him. As Cutter drank, I noticed to my surprise that there was less of Sparkle-Cola than I had left it; I didn’t even notice Jack taking a sip. Which considering I had my back turned to him as I talked to Cutter wasn’t really surprising, less so than learning that he liked this beverage.

And yet when I offered him another sip once Cutter had his, he waving his paw and shook his head, his attention focused on the unicorn stallion. Frowning a little in confusion, I shrugged and placed the bottle back on the desk.

Cutter licked his lips several times, trying to savor the taste of the beverage, then took a deep breath and started again. “Okay, the beginning… Back all those years ago, before I, b-became the town’s medic,” he stammered a little, glancing at me, as if fearing I would be upset; considering his time as town’s medic caused death of several foals, among some other things, I could have been, “I was going on the patrols along with the others, I would earn extra caps and keep slavers and slaves alive. I was with Eulogy when he found Black Widow and the others.”

“The others?” Jack, who had began to look annoyed, picked up immediately.

The unicorn nodded. “The Steel Rangers.”

I tried to not look too smug.

I may have failed that to some extent, or maybe Jack was annoyed of just the fact that I was right, because he turned his attention from Cutter to deadpan at me as my test subject continued: “Black Widow - Dark Lady, as she called herself back then; I don’t know what her real name was, we didn’t ask her when we captured them - was one of them. W-well, she was a Scribe, actually. There was another Scribe and one of those actual Steel Rangers.”

“I find it hard to believe that a bunch of slavers could have captured a Steel Ranger, even if it was just one,” Jack said, returning his stare to Cutter.

This time he shook his head. “H-he was without that Power Armor of theirs. They were part of a squad that was sent to some kind of wartime facility, the defenses there killed everypony else and destroyed his Power Armor, including its repair talisman, so he left it behind. The armors of the other Steel Rangers had their locks fused or whatever, I don’t remember. We ran into them when they were making their way back to one of their bases.”

“Okay, that seems more plausible,” Jack conceded, narrowing his eyes. “So what happened next?”

“Raiders happened,” Cutter replied.

“Of course,” Jack commented in a dry voice, his eyes rolling up to look at the ceiling.

“T-there was this group of raiders that had claimed that area recently,” my test subject continued, slightly unnerved again because of the griffin’s interjection. “We’d only run into them on our way back. We tried to barter with them, but it turned messy. We probably wouldn’t have gotten away if Black Widow hadn’t yanked her magical laser pistol from our saddle bags and killed a few of the raiders, seeing them turn into pink ash made the others back off. Afterwards, she had talked the other two into helping us, arguing that the raiders would kill them all. Of course, we didn’t want to give them their guns back at first, what slaver would have done that? We made the other Scribe repair and modify our weapons, and the Steel Ranger gave us a quick ‘real’ training to improve our chances in a fight. But then we realized that the raiders had began to surround us, and just how many there were. We gave them back their guns and tried to break through their line, but that plan failed. We ran again, and then Black Widow suggested that we lure them back into the facility they had been sent to, saying that a lot of its defenses had just been taken offline by them. Hiding back there and turning them on had been our only chance, so we agreed.”

“Smart plan,” Jack nodded appraisaly, rubbing the underside of his beak and frowning.

“Not smart enough,” Cutter said. “Those defenses had killed all the raiders, but most of us still died, some on the way there, others when we got inside, including the other two Steel Rangers. Although I doubt that by then she really cared.” He paused to utter a nervous chuckle. “Never saw something more pathetic than a slave falling for a slaver, but then Eulogy seemed to fall in love with her in return.”

“They really fell in love?” I asked, a little surprised. “I mean, I’ve heard of how Black Widow came to Appleloosa as Eulogy’s marefriend, but when you’ve said how Eulogy had enslaved her I thought-”

“You’d be surprised to learn what kind of emotions can be born while under fire, Doctor,” Jack interrupted me; I couldn’t help but feel that he was taking some relish by explaining something to me. Then he rolled his eyes and added, “Though granted, love is a rather rare one.”

“I-it’s true, Mistress,” Cutter put in reluctantly, looking at me with a little fear. Smiling at him to ensure him that he wouldn’t be punished for correcting my assumption I encouraged him to continue. “They’d started to bond over this whole ordeal, and then later as we recovered in the facility after the battle... I’m not sure when they’d first fucked, but before we hit the road again, Eulogy had told us she wouldn’t be put into shackles again. One daring idiot opposed to that and got killed for it, after that me and the remaining two didn't feel like arguing. Eulogy had then told us to keep quiet about her being a Steel Ranger and this whole nightmare of an adventure to ourselves, as nopony knew how that idiot Butcher or anypony else would react to having an ex-Steel Ranger Scribe in the town. Fortunately for all of us, shortly after we got back Butcher attacked a Steel Ranger patrol - who had probably been looking for Black Widow and her friends - and got wounded so badly that Eulogy took control of the slavers, but I had still kept quiet, figuring that might be useful to blackmail them one day,” he added, a ghost of a grin appearing on his muzzle, which quickly disappeared. “Not that it did me any good…”

“What about the other two slavers who were with you?” I asked, curious what had happened to them; I had a feeling that Cutter was the only pony currently alive who knew about Black Widow’s past, aside from maybe Whip Crack.

“Oh, they died, one a year later, the other… four years later, I think,” Cutter replied, confirming my guess. “And no, they weren’t killed by Black Widow or Eulogy, both died during raids.”

“It did seem that their deaths had been slightly convenient for them, though,” I pointed out.

“M-maybe, Mistress,” the other unicorn said, clearly not enjoying that he had to correct me. “But Eulogy had solidified his position as leader within a few months and Black Widow had gained a reputation for being a very dangerous mare, even if the word had gotten out about his wife’s past, nopony would had cared, like nopony had opposed her when she became the leader after Eulogy’s death. Though granted, that was probably more because of her pet zebra.”

I frowned a little, but nodded at the same time so he wouldn’t think I was displeased with him. I could understand his reasoning, but at the same time, Black Widow had seemed pleased after Cutter’s death. Even Scope had been certain that she had asked me to kill Cutter.

As I mused this over, the interrogation continued. “So Black Widow went from a Steel Ranger Scribe to a slave, then fell in love with her slaver, became his wife, and eventually became the leader of slavers. Fucking Wasteland fairy tale,” Jack sneered, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Okay, but when exactly does Scope come into all this? You’ve said that she was afraid of him. How do you know that?”

That knowledge would seem to be a more possible reason as to why Black Widow would want him dead, I surmised thoughtfully, eager to hear his explanation.

Cutter nodded, becoming nervous again. “Yes, she… you see, that facility, it- I, I hadn’t looked around too much, none of us did, we were too busy worrying about the raiders at first and then about recovering from the battle. I didn’t realize what exactly that place had been back during the war.”

An irritated growl escaped Jack. “Is there a point to this?” he asked, causing a shake to go through Cutter again.

“Sweetie, please, a little patience,” I chided him. Offering the stallion a smile, I added, “Let him tell us at his own pace, you’re making him nervous.”

Jack glared at me. “He wouldn’t be so jumpy if you hadn’t tortured him for weeks,” he remarked, but when he turned to Cutter he kept his beak closed, waiting.

Cutter, although he shuddered when I spoke up and again at Jack’s comment, calmed down a bit. He took several deep, calming breaths, and started again.

“That facility… I think it belonged to the Ministry of Arcane Sciences. Black Widow must have taken that thing from there, can’t think of any other place she could have gotten it from.”

“‘Thing’?” I repeated, my ears perking up from curiosity. “What ‘thing’?”

“I… I’m not exactly sure what it is,” Cutter replied, sweating a little; understandably, with his experiences he couldn’t associate my curiosity with anything good for him. “It’s a sort of talisman, a very small one. I didn’t even see her take it from that place, or see it at all for years. But when she had found that zebra and had him brought to me to try and patch him up… she gave me that thing and ordered me to put it in his head.”

“In his head?” I exclaimed, surprised. I looked over at Jack, and was relieved to see that although he hid it better, he too was taken by surprise. “Why would-”

And that’s when it dawned on me.

“That’s why Khan does everything she asks of him!” I shouted out, making Cutter jump up and back away.

“Y-yes, Mistress,” he said, nodding quickly. “After he regained consciousness, Black Widow began ordering him around to test it, and he obeyed silently every order, even though in his condition he shouldn’t be strong enough to get up from bed or move around. He’s been her bodyguard and enforcer ever since.”

Now this was exciting. A talisman that makes others do everything they say… true, the method Black Widow had used it was abhorrent, forcing that - assumably - innocent zebra to be her powerless slave, but if I could get my hooves on it...

Even though I hadn’t known that something of such sort could have been developed in wartime Equestria, I was surprised that I hadn’t figured out that Khan was under magical influence. This made so much sense now, how obedient he was, how quickly he followed her orders… even his biology seemed to obey Black Widow, seeing how quickly he got an erection this morning.

“As sorta interesting and disturbing this is,” Jack spoke up, pulling me out of my musing again, “what exactly does this have to do with Scope?” he asked calmly, keeping his voice under control this time.

“Yes, right. You see, this talisman... “ Cutter began, again pausing. “When I was about to implant it in the zebra’s brain, it sorta… reacted to my magic, I guess.” My ears perked up hearing that. “It… made me see images. Hear sounds... It was sort of like viewing a memory orb, except that it also felt like… I could feel emotions. I think the talisman was supposed to allow to control others telepathically, I don’t know if that was just a prototype or if Black Widow couldn’t figure out how to make it work properly.”

Telepathic? I repeated in my mind, now even more intrigued.

Jack, however, still seemed more interested in learning about Scope than how this talisman worked. “Nevermind what it was supposed to be, what did it show you? Black Widow’s memories?” he prompted Cutter.

“Yes, I think so. I had all those flashes roll through my mind, some of her time in Appleloosa, others from some Steel Ranger bunker or something…” he trailed, his expression troubled as he recalled what must have been a very bizarre event. “It all happened within seconds, although felt longer. Among all those memories, I saw the this brown unicorn - obviously, when he was far younger - talking with a pony clad in similar barding as the ones Steel Ranger Scribes wear, only different color. And… I felt fear when that memory flashed in my head, I’m certain of it.” A small shake went through his body, then he continued, “It stopped after that, though, and I took a moment to collect myself, tried to sort things out. And I realized that I’d seen that buck, a few times when I’d been to New Appleloosa. I kept that in mind, and put that blasted talisman in the zebra’s head more carefully and closed his head. Surprisingly he lived, and then when I saw how easily Black Widow could control him I put two and two together. And then when Eulogy was killed, by a sniper shot to the head, well, it was pretty obvious that he must have done it, right?”

Jack’s eyes briefly flickered to me, no doubt he was recalling how I suggested that very thing to him back in New Appleloosa.

“It would seem like the most logical assumption, sweetie,” I replied to Cutter. As Jack remained silent, I decided to take over the ‘interrogation’. “Did Black Widow know what the talisman made you see?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Cutter said, shaking his head. “At least, she didn’t know. But I am sure she suspected something. I don’t know, maybe I was still jittery after that talisman fucked with my brain, or I gave myself out some other way. So I took some precautions, told W…” His voice broke as he mentioned his coltfriend, but he cleared his throat (with some difficulty) and continued, “told Whip Crack some of what I knew, about how she was a Steel Ranger, and after Eulogy’s death I recorded a message on a holotape to be delivered to this Scope buck in case something happened to me.”

“I see,” I said with a nod, having already suspected as much. I looked over at Jack, who continued to contemplate in silence, then turned back to Cutter. “Well, I think that’s all we wanted to know, sweetie, thank you very much. I’m going to give you back your leg and kidney tonight,” I added, smiling at him. “And here,” I added, turning away and reaching out with my magic to the shelf where I kept my food supply, grabbing a can of cram, “have an extra meal as a reward.”

“T-thank you, Mistress,” he replied, sounding more relieved rather than enthusiastic.

Understanding his reaction, I did not blame him, and instead opened the can. Looking at the lid, though, I got an unpleasant feeling, and removed it completely from the can.

“Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself by accident, sweetie,” I explained to Cutter as he looked at me with mild confusion while grabbing the opened can with his mouth. Turning away again, not wanting to see his reaction, I reached out for a bottle of water. “And here’s some water for you as well,” I said, placing the bottle within his cell.

Cutter nodded, somewhat reluctantly, turned back to it and walked back in, dragging his transplanted leg after him. Once he entered the cell, I closed to door back… and took a deep breath.

And now comes the hard part, I thought. All the exciting discoveries I have made this day - of a talisman that is supposed to grant telepathic control over somebody, of Black Widow having definitely been a part of Steel Rangers, and of this menstrual cycle that apparently most mares in the Wasteland go through instead of estrous cycle - could be left unexplored by me if the next conversation didn’t go well.

A little nervous, I turned back to Jack. The griffin had continued to sit down, his gaze silently following me. Was he judging me already?

I cleared my throat. “Well, I think we can agree that was very informative conversation,” I began carefully, trotting away from the door and keeping my voice soft; the cell doors weren’t as nearly as good when it came to stifling sounds as the door from to the clinic’s main floor was. “Would you care to discuss it first, sweetie, or would you rather we started with the main reason why you are glaring at me so?”

A snort escaped Jack. He glanced to the ceiling, shaking his head, and asked: “Did you think that I would feel some pity towards that guy and not kill you right away only because he and the other buck will die if you don’t switch their kidneys?” he asked, following my example and keeping his voice quiet; I could almost detect dry amusement in his tone, beneath his annoyance.

“Sweetie, didn’t I already explain that I had originally expected their bodies to reject their transplants earlier and force me to swap their organs back?” I asked, a little exasperated. “In fact, I would have probably done this last night regardless of their conditions, just to avoid this ridiculous accusation, but it so happened that an opportunity to secure another test subject arose, which forced me to focus on that goal all night. I assume you’d prefer to not know what exactly that included?” I added, noticing the increased annoyance on the griffin’s face. As his eyes rolled up to the ceiling, I took the opportunity to continue, “Besides, the fact that they need to have surgery conducted on them certainly doesn’t mean that I have to be the one to conduct them. Cutter certainly seems competent enough to perform an organ transplant, seeing how he had managed that brain surgery on Khan.”

Jack snorted. “So you’re saying he could operate on himself?” he asked, his eyebrow raised.

“Why wouldn’t he?” I asked, frowning in confusion. “It’s just a matter of aligning a mirror at the right angle before starting.”

The griffin mercenary expression turned into a deadpan. “Let’s change the subject,” he said after two seconds of silence. “It would seem that my only way to find out who exactly Scope was, is to get it out of Black Widow, one way or another.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that is your ‘only’ way, sweetie,” I told him, feeling a little confused by his reaction to my words, but I chose not to linger on that. “If you would be able to get a hold of that talisman, you could perhaps use it see her memories, similar to what Cutter had experienced.”

“Except I’m not a unicorn, you are,” he pointed out. Hearing this another, barely veiled suggestion that I was attempting to convince him to spare me caused me to pout, but before I could rebuke it, he continued, “Besides, getting that talisman would involve killing that zebra, Khan or whatever - or kidnapping him somehow so you could take it out - and I don’t really see Black Widow looking kindly to that, so I might as well try to get the information straight from her.”

“A fair assessment, I suppose,” I commented, shrugging.

Silence fell after my words. Jack looked as if expecting I would say more, but I had nothing else to add. After few seconds had passed, the griffin glanced at the cells before finally speaking: “You seemed to take a great deal of pleasure from Cutter’s fear, despite claiming you are of a higher moral ground.”

“I don’t believe I ever claimed that, sweetie,” I corrected him, then informed him, “and as for the way how I interact with my test subjects, I had long since learned that the easiest way to avoid various problems is to make them obedient, and the quickest way to do that leads through fear.” Shrugging, I added, “Though I won’t deny, a part of me takes joy in seeing what my treatment does to them. And why shouldn’t I? Everytime I break a little piece of them, a piece of what makes them such horrible people disappears. Perhaps, if turns of fate are kind to them, they could be in time reintroduced to the society? I am actually curious how the test subjects Stable Eight security had ‘rescued’ have fared in Stable Eight since I’ve been banished,” I confessed.

Jack continued to stare at me impassively. I half expected him to question how many ponies was that, but instead he asked: “You do realize that I find such a thing unsettling, right? Your answer didn’t exactly help your case.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant that reply to be threatening or mocking, but to me it felt like a last drop. Though I had welcomed a momentary respite after hearing Cutter’s tale, I’ve grown tired of the prolonged diversive discussions, and how he seemingly danced around the subject.

(Also, I didn’t know how to reply to Jack’s remark.)

“And I find you delaying the inevitable part of our conversation to be unsettling,” I admitted. As Jack’s expression flickered, I added, “It almost seems to me as if you are more reluctant to engage in what I’ve told you a week ago would take place.”

The griffin’s eyes narrowed at me for a moment, only to relax. “Fine then. But I have last question for you, before we start.” Leaning closer to me, he asked, “What do you want? I don’t mean with them,” he added, before I as much as opened my muzzle, pointing with his talon, “I mean with me. What do you want from me? You said you want to bring justice to Scope’s organization; it apparently involves going after Black Widow. Regardless whether that is indeed true or not, you seem to need my help, and because of that you lured me here at the risk that I kill you. Why then, the hell, everytime I point out a way you could use to ensure that I don’t kill you, you deflect it by saying that there is another way?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me again in frustration.

I blinked, finding his question - and especially his anger - to be a little surprising. Had I been right earlier, when I said that he was reluctant to decide whether to kill me or not?

He had asked a good question, of course. I indeed disproved every suggestion he had made regarding any precautions I could have taken. Was it merely a matter of my own principles that made me correct him (as I really hadn’t intended for any precautions)?

I didn’t need to see the looks from Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie to realize that it wasn’t the case. It was the same reason why I didn’t prepare any contingency plans.

“Because I don’t want you to spare me because you have to,” I told Jack earnestly. “I want you to spare me because you want to. What do I want from you? I…” I hesitated, suddenly feeling really foolish that I was about to say this to him. I wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t mock me, and I felt that this was something that most people living in the Wasteland would mock me for. But Jack deserved the answer. “I want us to become friends.”

Jack’s eyes briefly widened in what I assumed was surprise (or incredulity), but if it was he quickly masked it. His face resumed its neutral glare, and he didn’t reply otherwise, unless raising an eyebrow while staring in silence counted as a reply. After a heartbeat, though, his eyes rolled up to the ceiling and uttered a sigh, then covered his face with his paw.

“Alright, and what do you want with them? Why do you do those experiments of yours?” he asked, with his free paw pointing at the cell doors. As I took a deep breath in preparation of answering, though, I heard him mutter in a mocking tone under his breath: “He asked, knowing he was going to regret it…”

I paused to pout at him, feeling annoyed by the comment, and a little upset by his lack of reply to my confession. But that was to be expected, after all, so I purged my mind of such distracting thoughts and focused on what I had been planning all week: the speech that would decide my fate.

I jumped on the desk, moving the nearly empty Sparkle-Cola away so I could turn around without the risk of pushing it down to the floor. The noise I made caused Jack to lift his paw from one eye.

“Seriously?” he deadpanned, now cranking his head up a little so he could look me in the eyes now.

Turning to him, I pressed my hoof to my chest. “Sweetie, I am about to tell you something that I haven’t told anypony yet, not even those who were to me the closest, and there is a good chance that I won’t have another opportunity again to do so. I’ve spent a week planning what I am going to say and how I am going to say to you, so I would appreciate if you would let me do it as I had envisioned it.”

Jack began to roll his eyes even before I finished, but he didn’t look as if he was about to argue, so I accepted it as his surrender, and reached with magic to my lab coat. My horn lit up, causing the griffin to immediately tense, but he relaxed as he noted that I was using it to help myself undress.

“And you envisioned that you’re naked while doing so?” Jack asked as I removed my lab coat and laid it on the desk, his voice a mixture of a mocking groan and annoyed growl.

“Yes,” I answered simply, taking off my Stable barding .

There was a reason, of course, why I wanted to be naked, but explaining that would require breaking the form of my speech, so for now Jack had to be satisfied with this simple anwer. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to object - other than by looking up at the ceiling and muttering something incomprehensible while shaking his head - I relaxed. Placing the Stable barding on the lab coat, I stood on the desk, my colorless coat and blood red cutie mark exposed, cleared my throat, took a deep breath, and (with a quick Wish me luck, directed to Fluttershy and Pinkie) began:

“Ever since I was a little filly, I was curious about my father’s work. I’d wanted to know what was he doing that he was almost always returning home late at night. When I finally asked him, he said that he was a doctor. When I asked him what’s a doctor, he replied, ‘A doctor is a pony that makes ponies better.’” I took a little pause, smiling as I recalled those words. It hadn’t escaped my notice that Jack was visibly making an effort to not roll his eyes or show any other sign of annoyance, but I continued to ignore it. “Ever since then, I wanted to be like him. I wanted to help ponies, to take care of them, to cure them. But… I eventually learned that there is one affliction that you cannot cure, one that leaves a wound that never disappears: death,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Death… is incurable. When a pony dies, that’s it. But that’s not everything, death also harms their loved ones. It leaves wounds in their heart that are impossible to completely heal, ever.

“Eventually, the wound heals, like all wounds do in time. But they leave behind scars. The scars of the heart are impossible to remove with magic like the physical scars. And those scars can open. Maybe you see their picture or a recording, or hear somepony’s laughter, a song, and the wound tears right open again. It will heal again, even faster, but then it will happen again. Even though life gets better, you learn to integrate death into your life, learn to ‘live with it’, you will never be free of the scars death leaves on your heart,” I said, my gaze having moved slowly to the floor in sadness as I talked.

When I looked up, back to Jack’s eyes, I noticed that he was now listening patiently to me, with a knowing look. Of course, he knew what I was talking about. Burst, Blast… how many more loved ones did he lose in this unforgiving world before now?

“So I’ve resolved to never lose a patient,” I resumed. “I began studying all of my father’s textbooks and medical books, wanting to become the best doctor I could be to help everypony in my Stable.” I paused, recalling how oblivious I had been back then. “I studied pony anatomy, every sickness, every known treatment, certain that I would be able to make everypony better. And then, when I was twelve… my grandmother, the former Overmare, the most respected and oldest pony of Stable Eight, passed away. She-” I stopped for a moment, the wound I just spoke of reopening. Closing my eyes, I took another deep breath and resumed, “There had been few deaths in my Stable since I’ve been born, of course. Sickness, accidents... a suicide…” I bit my lip. “But my grandmother was the first pony to die of old age in Stable Eight since I had been born. I… I knew about deaths of old age, of course, most of my aunts and uncles had died this way, but… but I never truly grasped before that this is something that awaits everypony. That death is something that awaits everypony.

“I was already hurting because the death of my grandmother, but when I realized that, I fell into a great despair,” I recalled. How empty I had felt those days… “If death is unavoidable, what’s the point of learning medicine? What had my father dedicated his entire life to? What was the point of living? It all… felt so pointless…

“And so I sat there, trapped by my despair, at my grandmother’s funeral. But then, as I listened to my mother’s service, I heard her commend grandmother’s soul to the Goddesses, Celestia, Luna… and Cadance.” A smile crossed my lips. “Goddess Cadance, the Princess of Love… we revere her in Stable Eight, although less than the Goddesses Celestia and Luna, who move the Sun and the Moon. But at that moment, as I listened to my mother… I realized that I had no idea where Princess Cadance had come from. I mean, of course, nopony knows where Princess Celestia and Princess Luna came from, but they had ruled over Equestria for thousands of years. Princess Cadance only appeared less than a few decades before the start of the war. Where did she come from?

“After the funeral, I went to the library and convinced the librarian to allow me access to all the books about the Goddesses. I read through them, and to my amazement, I learned that Princess Cadance had been born a pegasus, and became an alicorn. She became an alicorn,” I repeated, shaking my head; though so many years had passed, I could still recall my shock that night. “She became like Princesses Celestia and Luna, who had lived for thousands of years. And I realized: it is possible. Death of old age isn’t unavoidable, it is possible to become immortal. It is possible to reject death, to ensure nopony ever loses their loved ones and suffers because of this.

“So, I read more,” I continued, a smile on my muzzle as I looked at Jack with dreamy eyes. “I read more about the Goddesses, hoping to find out more about alicorns, how to become an alicorn. And of course, I couldn’t find anything. But now I knew, there was more, so much more to this world than I had realized. So many, including my mother and grandmother in her final days, had told me that it’s the ultimate, undeniable truth of this world, that everypony dies. But now I knew that it wasn’t true. And if immortality was possible, what else could be? Was my Stable’s saying, about how something seems impossible only because nopony had invented a spell to do it, actually correct?” My smile turned into a smirk, bordering maybe on a grin. I realized that I had raised my voice at some point, but I didn’t care. “I decided I would find out. That night, in Stable Eight's library, I had decided that I would study the real Truth of this world, that I would research everything there is to research, everything there is to discover, and learn everything there is. And then,” I added, looking over at my flank, and made sure to turn so Jack could see it, “my cutie mark had appeared. My cutie mark, the Ouroboros.” A giggle escaped me. “The dragon that devours its own tail, the symbol of infinity and wholeness, of the infinite cycle of life and death, the creation and destruction. As I’d noticed it on my flank, I knew that it was my destiny to understand that cycle. And when I do,” I added, turning back to Jack, smiling again, “I will be able to break it.”

The familiar feeling, the one I had experienced when facing Scope and the raiders had returned. Power. I felt power surging through me as I confessed my desire, my goal, my destiny to Jack.

“I will break the cycle of life and death, and create the Everlasting Paradise. I will banish death forever, and ensure that nopony ever dies or suffers because of the loss of a loved one. You wish to know what I want?” I asked Jack. The griffin had continued to listen in attentive silence, his stoic expression not betraying what he thought through most of my speech. Now, though, both of his eyebrows were raised as my speech was about to reach its end. “I want to create this world I speak of, this Paradise. And I want you to help me,” I added before I could stop myself. Immediately, as I noticed the very slight furrow on Jack’s brow, I realized that what I said could seem a little too arrogant; perhaps the feeling of power clouded my judgment? “Will you help me?” I asked, hoping to rectify that mishap. My voice became calm, losing the excitement in which it basked when talking about my vision. The power - or rather adrenaline - was seeping out of my body, leaving me to face this griffin mercenary as a simple unicorn. Tilting my head, I added, “Or will you cut me down?”

Jack blinked slowly, then again, not speaking a word. I wasn’t sure if he was processing everything I had said, or was he merely waiting to make sure that I had indeed finished. A thought crossed my mind that since he had earlier joked about me being ‘mad’, my speech might had consolidated his opinion.

“So you’re completely bonkers.”

Yeah, you nailed it, Pinkie commented as Jack made his statement. Glancing away, she added through gritted teeth, So did Jack for that matter…

In contrast to the griffin mercenary, both apparitions had been staring at me with wide eyes. However, aside from Pinkie’s comment, they seemed reluctant to engage in discussion with me at the moment, though I had a feeling that they would eventually. Most likely sometime after I ensured that Jack wouldn’t kill me. Possibly before going to sleep.

Pouting at Jack (and at the pink apparition), I asked the griffin, “Is that really what you took from my speech?”

“Did you really say that you plan to turn everybody immortal?” Jack replied with a sarcastic question, one eyebrow raised.

My pout turned into a smirk. “Amusing remark,” I countered, honestly amused by it, “considering it comes from the person who told me about alicorns.”

Jack’s expression flickered, then he frowned. “That… what does that-”

“It proves that I am right,” I interrupted him. “That it is possible. You think those alicorns, whom appeared in great numbers only within the last decade, whom your very own ancestors had made the brief first encounter less than a century ago with a few of them, breed like other ponies? That they are, for the lack of a better word, natural? Considering how long they had remained in seclusion, their population must have been very small back when your ancestors ran into them. Do you have any idea how inbred those alicorns would be if they had bred like other ponies if they had multiplied their numbers so? I would be able to tell you precisely how badly their DNA would be affected by this if I had the precise population figures. No, those alicorns… since they all appeared after the war, I believe their status as alicorns had to be caused by some form of mutation… perhaps something in the Splendid Valley causes it,” I added thoughtfully, having thought this matter over several times during this past week. What Rexio had told me about research facility and magical waste they store in his ancestors’ caverns… I had a suspicion that this waste could be connected to those alicorns. Shaking my head, I resumed speaking with Jack: “I would have to conduct tests on them to be sure, of course. But I sincerely doubt they had been born alicorns.”

Jack’s frown hadn’t disappeared, but at least it looked like he considered my words carefully. “Fair point, I suppose,” he said slowly. Shrugging, he added, “Doesn’t change the fact that you are crazy. And how exactly does switching body parts helps you learn how to make ponies immortal?” the griffin asked, ignoring my pout.

“Well, sweetie, I’d thought that it was obvious,” I began. (“And clearly that’s the problem,” Jack muttered under his breath.) “Even when I eliminate the evolutionary failure of aging, there will be still plenty of ways one may meet their end. You own encounter with those alicorns proved that much. I aim to eliminate death completely,” I reminded him. “Every experiment I have performed served the purpose of extending my knowledge and abilities for that goal, whether it is replacing a lost limb or an organ or finding a cure to a disease. Of course,” I added in an afterthought, glancing at the door of Cutter’s cell, “I would much rather learn how to cause a pony to regrow their limb or organ on their own, as you had said one of those alicorns did, but I have to work with what I have, so to speak.”

Jack snorted, then shook his head. “This paradise of yours will come about by the blood and pain of countless people,” he snarled.

Keeping my head turned toward the cell door, I moved just my eye to glance at Jack, “Are you saying that there aren’t people out there in the Wasteland everybody could do without?”

His eyes narrowed. “And who decides who they could all do without? You, Princess?” he all but sneered as he leaned closer. “By yourself?”

Finally turning my head, I graced him with an honest smile. “Not if you join me.”

Jack’s frown turned into a deadpan, but it only lasted several seconds. Uttering a sigh, he leaned back, covering his face in his paws. “So that offer about becoming your apostle still stands, huh?” he asked, his voice carrying an unexpected tune of nostalgia in it.

“Of course it does, sweetie,” I replied warmly.

The griffin snorted, his face still hidden, but then he fell silent for a few long heartbeats. Finally, he let his paws drop and looked straight at me. “I’m not going to kill you.”

My eyes widened, and they were quickly followed by my smile. I felt as if a very heavy and tight barding had been taken off of me. Before I could express my joy though, Jack reached out and grabbed my muzzle.

“But I’m not joining you, or becoming your apostle or whatever,” he said, his deadpan returning. “All I care about right now is finding out who the hell was Scope working with and making them pay. We can work towards that, for now. What do you say?” Jack asked, releasing my muzzle.

Massaging my muzzle, I watched him carefully. This had been the first time I revealed my goal to somebody, so I hadn’t really had a template of reactions that I could have expected. Based on the morality Jack had exhibited so far I had assumed that it was equally possible that he could kill me or join me, but instead he seemed indifferent, instead focusing on what I had originally ‘lured’ him in with. Justice for Burst and Blast.

And yet…

“What do I say, sweetie?” I finally replied. “I could say a lot of things.” (“Yeah, I bet,” Jack muttered.) “I could say that I can’t help but feel slightly disappointed that you reject my offer a second time. I could speculate on what could you possible mean by ‘for now’. But honestly?” I leaned closer to Jack. “What I want to say to you is… That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say to me?” I asked, looking at him as if he was ludicrous. “I opened up to you, more than I had ever opened to anypony, and this is what you say to me? No,” shaking my head, I sat down, laying my tail wrapped around my legs. “You’re going to give me more.”

I was rewarded with the sight of Jack’s utter bemusement, even though it didn’t last long. His confusion was very quickly replaced by annoyance. “What do you want?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

I simply shrugged. “I want to know what you think of me.”

Jack stared at me for a moment, before seemingly relaxing. “Fine,” he exclaimed, sounding almost happy. “You want to know what I think of you? I think you’re nuts,” the griffin said, and with that, his faked good humor was gone. “I don’t care what kind of tests they did on you in your Stable, they either were shitty tests or they did them before you went crazy. I think you’re delusional and have fantasies of grandeur. I think what you are doing is horrifying,” he added, pointing at the cells… but then he sighed, and his stern expression softened. “But I can’t deny that nobody is going to cry over raiders and slavers. Sure, most people would want them to be simply dead, but I really can’t think of anybody who would complain that at least they aren’t harming anybody this way. Nor that, on paper, that experiment of yours with the legs and kidneys wouldn’t be beneficial for everybody.” Turning to me, he gauged me with his glare before continuing: “I also think that… that you really believe in what you are doing, that you really want to help others. And that you are bizarrely compassionate. The way you treated Ditzy back in New Appleloosa, or what you’ve said about brahmin… honestly, I am considered a tolerant individual, and even so I wonder if I should chalk those up to you being crazy,” he admitted, shaking his head. “But most importantly… I remember how you were when we were burying Blast and Burst.” Jack’s eyes dropped momentarily, his confession clearly bringing up the memories of that lightly raining day. “I don’t believe there was any lie in the pain I saw in you, even though you knew them such a short time… and turned out to be a sociopath,” the griffin added, his voice dropping the almost melancholic tone as he glanced again at the cells. “I also don’t believe you had lied to me today, although Scope’s case had proved that I’m not as perceptive as I would like to think I am. So I am going to trust you,” he added, and, to my amazement and joy, he extended his paw towards me.

He was going to trust me. Me, the mare who had just showed him the darkest side of her. Even if he wasn’t going to join me in my quest to bring about the Everlasting Paradise, to know that there was a somebody who accepted me was enough for me. With a bright smile on my face, I reached out for his paw with my hoof.

Jack grabbed it… and then pulled it, causing me to almost fall down from the desk. I swayed as I was forced to drop my other forehoof against the edge of the desk and push with all three free legs to keep my balance, and realized that my head now was on the same level as Jack’s.

As in the corner of my eye I saw the Sparkle-Cola bottle to drop down behind the desk due to this scuffle, Jack leaned closer to my face, his expression harsh again. “But let me make this clear,” he whispered, his voice dripping with threat. “If you are lying to me, if you ever try to backstab me, and if you ever kidnap somebody who doesn’t deserve it, I will kill you.”

I looked into his eyes. Though at first I naturally felt fear as he pulled me down, now I felt none. I knew none of those were ever going to happen, after all. In fact, as I listened to him, my earlier smile had slowly crept back onto my face.

“Promise?” I asked, causing something resemble a smile as well to appear on Jack’s furrowed expression.

“So are you guys going to check that bottle or…”

The moment the few words of that sentence had sounded I had already jumped into the air while uttering a shriek, my hoof released, and looked frantically to the side towards the source of the unexpected sound.

“Oh right,” Jack exclaimed, his voice irritably calm, as if I hadn’t just jumped a good half a yard into the air, “I forgot to mention: I was sure that you were planning to kill me or something, so I had an old associate tag along.”

A-HAH! Pinkie’s voice rang through my mind as she looked on gleefully at the pony that had appeared out of nowhere beside Jack. I KNEW there was something fishy going on!

I ignored her, too busy staring at this unexpected guest while attempting to resume controlled breathing and to form a coherent thought.

Jack, who had taken upon himself the role of making introductions, pointed his opened upside paw at her. “Angel, Aite. Aite, Angel.”

The mare that sat beside him, apparently - and unusually - named Aite, wasn’t exactly… impressive. She was small, shorter than me and looked thinner as well. I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure though, as she was clad in a strange cloak (with an even stranger clasp, a gemstone) that covered most of her body. I could see her face, though, as she had removed her hood as she so unceremoniously appeared beside us. Her coat was pale gray, and her mane, thought at first glance seemed black, turned out to be a very dark shade of purple as I looked more closely. She was looking at me with amusement with her yellow eyes which-

I blinked, and in the next seconds I was already in front of her, having jumped down from the desk between her and Jack. “Narrow pupils?” I said, examining her eyes from up close. Indeed, I hadn’t been mistaken; her pupils were narrow, like a cat’s. As Aite attempted to move away, I noticed another strange physical trait, which, due to my shock, I had somehow missed until now. “Ears with tufts of hair on the tips?” I said, gently running my hoof alongside her left ear. The mare pushed my hoof away and opened her mouth, allowing me to see another trait. “Fangs?” I exclaimed, using my forehooves to open her muzzle a bit wider to examine four sharp teeth. Aite pushed me away, but now the suspicion arose in my head, and I had to make sure. I used my magic to lift her cloak, revealing more of her body… and the final physical trait I needed. “Leathery wings?!” I exclaimed, grabbing the wing gently and unfolding it. The mare had raised her own hoof, but I already let go of her wing, and instead grabbed her by her shoulders, pulling myself closer to her. “Oh my gosh, you’re a thestral! A bat pony!” I all but shouted, right in her face.

I could scarcely believe it. A bat pony, a species of pony that I practically knew nothing about, was standing right in front of me! There was almost nothing at all about them in all of the books, scrolls, and terminal data within Stable Eight. In fact, most of my Stable - those who were interested in discussing such subjects, that is - didn’t even believe they actually existed as a separate kind of pony! But there she was, right before me!

Aite was staring at me with those eyes of her unique species, wide with surprise mixed with annoyance. “Oh wow, you were not kidding about her,” she said after a second.

“You were spying on her all day and now you- fuck it, whatever,” Jack snorted. “What the hell were you saying about the bottle earlier?”

Ignoring whatever the two of them were talking about, I opened my muzzle, about to bombard the bat pony with questions. Before I could, though, she slapped the hoof that held her by her right shoulder, causing me to let her go out of shock and mild pain.

Ignoring me, Aite turned to Jack. “Well, when you pulled her down to have this filled-with-sexual-tension stare down?” she asked, gesticulating at me with her hoof. I frowned when she had said ‘sexual tension’; I was certain that she was joking (and the annoyed deadpan Jack gave her supported that theory), but her expression hadn’t changed by an inch, she neither smirked nor winked at all. “The Crazy caused the bottle to fall down, and when it hit the floor it made a sound as if there was an empty space underneath it.”

Empty space? I thought, a little confused. Why would there be empty space… oh who cares, I decided, too occupied with observing the bat pony to worry about something like that. Could it be that something is wrong with her hearing?

Jack, on the other hoof, seemed to take interest in this matter. In the corner of my eye I noticed that he turned to look at the desk, in the direction where the bottle had fallen, and frowning. “Bullshit,” he finally said, turning back to Aite.

The bat pony merely shrugged. “Hey, she’s a mad scientist. Shot in the dark, maybe she has a basement?”

A base- I absently repeated in my mind, my gaze fixated on the gemstone clasp of her cloak, but then what she had earlier said registered in my head, Mad scientist?!

“Excuse me, sweetie,” I began, my dismay over that title being used on me pulling me out of my entrancement, “I am not a mad-”

Aite shoved her hoof to cover my muzzle. Though it wasn’t as nearly as effective method as Jack’s, the sheer surprise and her speed caused me to fell silent.

“Hush, Mommy and Daddy are talking,” she said, glancing at me with disinterest, before dropping her hoof.

Before she did, though, I noticed a curious things. There was a talisman on a chain under her neck, right below the gemstone cloak; it appeared as if she wore it like a necklace.

I briefly wondered why she would wear a talisman like a necklace, but I quickly stopped as I heard her remark. I almost bristled inside at this mare, barely - by the looks of it - about ten-fifteen my elder, calling herself my ‘Mommy’, even in such a ridiculous fashion.

“We are in her basement,” Jack pointed out, ignorant that I grew increasingly upset with this associate of his.

The bat pony seemed undisturbed by the cold logic. “Then maybe she has a bunker, or secret tunnel. I know what I’ve heard,” she said, her ears twitching. As Jack rose from the floor and turned back to the desk, walking around it, she added, with a smirk finally appearing on her muzzle, “Also, ‘associate’? Really?” Aite asked, sounding almost teasing.

“Shut up,” Jack sighed, annoyed.

I paid only half attention to their conversation; after all, I knew that I didn’t have a bunker under my laboratory. I was far more interested in the bat pony, and the strange gemstone of her cloak. Leaning closer, I looked it over, almost entranced by it; I became certain that it was enhanced in some way, possible was even the reason why Aite had apparently been invisible this whole time since Jack arrived. My curiosity taking over, I reached out to it with my hoof-

“Augh!” I yelped in pain as Aite slapped it again, this time more painfully.

“Haven’t you been taught to keep your hooves to yourself?” the bat pony asked as I brought my hoof back, an eyebrow raised… and a faint hint of amusement in her voice.

Clutching my hurt hoof, I realized that I hadn’t exactly behaved in the most respectable fashion. Even if this pony belonged to a species that I knew next to nothing about, let alone I had seen before, possessed some very intriguing items on herself, and had been apparently spying on me this whole day wasn’t a reason to act such.

“Forgive me, sweetie,” I apologized, smiling a little sheepishly. “I have never seen such a gemstone before, and I’m afraid my curiosity had gotten the better of me. And of course, I have never seen a bat pony before, and I must admit that I am beyond fascinated with you,” I admitted, my eyes widening as I looked her over. I quickly stopped, though, as I realized that I might had just committed another faux pas. “Or do you prefer to be called thestrals? I must admit that I don’t-”

“Hey Doctor?” Jack called out from behind the desk, interrupting me. “Could you look at this?”

Surprised by his request, with great reluctance I turned away from Aite and trotted around the desk. The bat pony simply jumped on top of the desk with ease to look down on whatever it was Jack wanted me to see.

As joined him, I couldn’t blame him.

The old, ugly and dirty rug that I had assumed the last doctor had brought here after being forced to convert the basement into his cabinet in order to make it more comfortable for him to sit down, had been pulled away by Jack.

Underneath it was a small hatch.

As Jack reached to the handle and pulled it open, it revealed a tunnel, a sort of a pony hole, barely wide enough for somebody of my griffin companion’s frame to fit through, with a ladder built into its side leading down.

I had a secret tunnel leading out of my laboratory.

At first, I found myself speechless, surprised. Both at the tunnel’s presence, as well as the fact that I hadn’t found it myself within those three weeks I had spent there. I only hadn’t began berating myself because I hardly ever dropped any bottles on the spot where I would often sit down (the remaining contents of the bottle were spilled on the rug), or performed any kind of action that could cause to make a distinct enough sound for me to notice that something was wrong.

(Although it had crossed my mind to take the rug out and try to get it cleaned.)

Recovering from my shock, I decided that it was pointless to blame myself for missing this secret tunnel, and instead summed it up with one of my mother’s favorite Stable Eight sayings:

“The night is young and full of wonders.”

Footnote: Level Up!
New perk: Royal Canterlot Voice (level two) -- Your voice grows in power and majesty and carries more volume. It becomes easier for you to influence others. You gain +5 points to Speech and Barter skills. Effects are cumulative with Royal Canterlot Voice level one, which is required in order to take this perk.

Author's Notes:

Thanks to Zaleros, TimePrincess and Sage Probo for their editing/proofreading, and special thanks to Kkat for creating Fallout: Equestria of course, to Somber for Project Horizons and Homelands, and to Heartshine for Speak, which are as canon as the original story here^^

Especially to Hearthshine, as I presented Speak's canon regarding estrus and menstrous cycles. I would normally not go into such detail in this matter, but with Angel being a doctor from a Stable I figured that this is a matter that had to be addressed. Aside from my story being canon to both Project Horizons and Speak (where the former had made heat canon, and the latter made menstrous cycle cannon as well), there is also the fact of this actually making a lot of sense. Besides, those of you who read my other stories, mostly Rebirth of the Damned, had probably noticed that I am not a big fun of the whole "mares going through heat" thing to begin with.

Hope you had fun reading this newest chapter^^