With a loud, resonating grinding noise, the massive steel doors to Stable Eight shut behind me.

I could still scarcely believe it. Back during the trial, when I heard the Overmare’s sentence, it was understandable that I couldn’t. But now, as I am physically outside of the Stable, shouldn’t my mind had come to terms with the reality? That the Stable I called home wasn’t my home anymore?

Then again, I suppose given my situation, I shouldn’t be surprised if my mind was still catching up with the events. It was my home. I’d spent the entirety of my short life in Stable Eight. The Stable that, until now, nopony had ever left. The years I spend inside of it were flashing before my eyes, the few precious good times and the plethora of bad…

Was being banished really such a bad thing? I wonder…

“Oh, well,” I finally said; I must have stood a while in silence, because my voice sounded like thunder to my ears, “It’s no use lamenting over this.”

I forced myself to stop thinking about the past; though a part of me was hurting, I knew there was no going back. Not for now, at least. I had to focus on figuring out what I was going to do next.

The space I was in wasn’t exactly dark, as I realized looking around. There were several rays of dim light, falling through something I assumed were wooden boards, but from so far away I was not sure. Still, though, I couldn’t very much see where I was, so I activated my PipBuck’s light.

On that note, I wasn’t exactly sure why I was allowed to keep it. This was one of the pre-War wonders, a small terminal-like device worn on the foreleg, created by a blend of unicorn magic with science. It was capable of many things; I knew that, despite using it mostly as a recording device.

With a smirk, I realized that was probably the reason why they hadn’t removed my PipBuck; they didn’t want data like that to remain within the Stable. Truth be told, I was fairly certain they would go out of their way to remove any trace of me ever existing.

“Honestly,” I sighed, “all those years I spent getting everypony to look past the ‘little white freak all the kids bullied’ thing, going to waste like this…”

My surroundings didn’t do much to improve my mood. I was in a cave.

No, not a cave.

On the ground, right next to my hoof, there were remains of two sets of rails, laying apart wide enough for a minecart to travel by them.

This used to be a mine once. Probably years before the Last Day, maybe even the War. Made sense. What better place to build a Stable designed for unicorns than in the place where ponies used to mine magical crystals once?

“Still, this entranceway is hardly wide,” I mused as I slowly started trotting towards the light. “Must have been chaos on the day the bombs fell. Trying to get everypony inside…”

Even I had to shiver a bit as I pictured it.

I reached the wooden door, because it indeed was what I saw. An old wooden door, made from boards so ruined that the light was falling through the gaps between them. I could make out some shapes on the other side of it, but I would need to open the door to get a proper look of them. I could smell the air from the other side; it was cool, but at the same time, it was much more… rusty. As if there was something stale around...which could be the case. Hadn’t we all learned in school in Stable Eight that the Outside had been dead for about two hundred years?

Naturally, when one did necessary calculations, it quickly became unrealistic that out of all Equestria, only this one Stable would survive, with only around five hundred unicorns (currently four hundred seventy six, with three more on their way). Nor did it seem plausible that the zebras had the means to create so many Balefire Bombs that would be required to completely annihilate Equestria. No, life endured on the surface, I was sure of that… which was probably one of the reasons why I was taking my banishment relatively well.

A single white hoof reached towards the door… and stopped. I hesitated. What awaited for me beyond this door was a new world. Was I prepared to look upon it? I looked at my hoof, the white fur of my leg mostly hidden beneath the lab coat I was allowed to keep. It was shaking.

Shaking with excitement.

I smirked again. The scientist within me was itching to get out and see for herself how the real world looked like. Once again, my curiosity seemed bent on leading me into trouble.

Funny, that. They used to say “Curiosity is the first step to hell,” didn’t they? Well, I wouldn’t have gotten banished from the Paradise of Stable Eight if it weren’t for my curiosity.

And now I was stepping into the Equestrian Hell…

Taking a deep breath - and coughing once a bit of dust got into my throat - I carefully opened the door.

Ruins were laid out before me. The rails led out from the mine into what once must have been a miner town or an outpost. All that was left of it now were several pillars, ruined walls with pipes sticking out of them, boards… nothing of any significance, really.

My gaze travelled up… and up. My eyes widened…

… only to narrow with disappointment.

What was this? Unlike the vast blue space I’ve seen so many times whenever I looked up in the atrium, cafeteria, or swimming pool, thanks to the illusion spells placed on the ceilings of them, what I looked upon was… gray. Not a monotonous kind of gray, there were lighter and darker patches of gray across the sky, but it was disappointing nonetheless.

“Are those… clouds?” I pondered out loud. The unicorns responsible for maintaining the illusions in the Stable conjured the images of them as well across out fake skies, but they were always small and white. This looked as if somepony mashed together hundreds… no, thousands of such clouds and used them to obscure the sky from everypony.

Could this have been caused by the zebra’s megaspells? It didn’t seem like it. Even assuming that the Balefire bombs caused some disturbance in the atmosphere, it would be unlikely for the sky to not clear up in two hundred years. In that case… was it done by somebody else? From those scarce books we had in Stable Eight that weren’t about spells, I knew that the pegasi, a tribe of ponies who didn’t have horns but wings sprouting from their backs, used to control the weather above Equestria. Could this be their doing then? By why would they obscure the sky with clouds?

I sighed, closing my eyes. “I suppose I will have to ask somepony about that,” I decided, examining the ruins around me. “Though credit where credit is due, the unicorns who first cast those illusion spells managed to recreate the width of space almost perfectly.”

I tried to imagine my reaction if I wasn't used to staring into such wide wonder (despite knowing that the ceiling was just a few feet above me). I would quite possibly have a panic attack.

Shaking my head, I tried to focus on the important matters. I had no food and no water, and by the looks of it, neither did this place. I needed to find someplace where I could get those, preferably a settlement of sorts. I looked around, but there was nothing that would tell me where the closest town was. Outside of the circle of ruins, barren wasteland stretched out as far as eye could see. The road leading to and from this mining settlement was long since destroyed by wind, sand and time, along with any roadsign.

Pondering what to do, I glanced at my PipBuck. When I was busy contemplating the sky and the ruined wasteland, the map-maker had began working. Apparently, I was at “Stable Eight”.

That’s helpful. I rolled my eyes, turning around…

… and paused. There was a trail of smoke visible in the distance.

Smoke meant fire. Fire, in turn, quite possibly meant settlement.

“Well, it’s not like I have any better idea as to where to go,” I hummed, turning toward the direction of the smoke.

Before I started walking, I made sure my Eyes-Forward Sparkle, a spell in PipBuck that automatically marked for me any living being by either friendly or hostile, was on. By doing so, I also discovered that I was picking up several radio transmission. Back in Stable Eight, there was only one station, which most of the time played some music, though from time to time there were some news broadcasted on it. Intrigued, I switched my PipBuck to play the first one on the list, and began trotting towards the unknown.

“-rations, the hard-working ponies of Equestria toiled to build this great land, and the leaders sat back and reaped the benefits. And not only them…”

Well, it probably was a settlement.

Of course, my usage of the past tense in that statement could have been wrong. However, seeing that from the direction where the smoke was coming from a big group of ponies was approaching, with many of them in chains, I felt certain that I was looking at that settlement’s former residents.

When I spotted them, I was already walking for a good half an hour. Despite being relieved to find a sign that ponies indeed lived in this place, I had the foresight to hide behind the billboard on the side of the road (because, as I soon found out after leaving the ruins of the mine town, I was indeed following a road). I also turned off the radio. The beautiful tunes of Sweetie Belle - which I found on another station after getting bored of that self-righteous speech - that I was familiar with from my Stable’s radio, were silenced, as I observed the incoming ponies from the relatively safe hiding space.

I was, after all, really easy to spot…

The incoming group counted sixteen ponies in total, seven in shackles and nine without. Out of those in the former group, two were pulling a wagon, and the others trailed behind, flanked by four ponies from the later group. Two others were on the front, while the remaining three were sitting in the wagon.

Suddenly, one of those three rose. Something was levitated by him, and I heard a very sharp noise. A whip.

“Step on it, you stupid fucks!” I heard him shout.

Well, isn’t this lovely…

The group was approaching rapidly, and I had to decide quickly what to do. For now, all of them were marked as “friendly” on my E.F.S., but I had a feeling that it was going to change.

Hiding was not an option; the area surrounding us was plain. There were occasional rocks around, but the moment I would move from behind the billboard, I would get spotted.

Ironically, the billboard had the words “Pinkie Pie is watching you FOREVER!” written on it, with an image of a strange pink mare that seemed to glare right at me in the middle.

Running away also wasn’t a good idea. I wasn’t a good runner; this little trot I had earlier alone was tiring for me.

Both hiding and running were suicide, then. Fighting? Considering their numbers, suicide with a bunch of kittens dying.

Luckily, though, none of those three were my preferable options.

Those ponies just came from a battle. They’ve been fighting, which meant some of them - if not all - were wounded. Even if they won, the attackers must have wounds here and there; even if they didn’t, they obviously wanted the ponies they attacked alive for whatever reason.

Either way, they could probably use a doctor.

I took a deep breath, and stepped outside from the billboard.

To say that they were surprise would be an understatement. The ponies in front - the two pulling the wagon and their guards - stopped, stunned, and stared at me with wide eyes. The one on the left even dropped the sledgehammer he’s been carrying in his mouth. The one on the wagon who earlier whipped his captives dropped the whip.

I sat down on the ground, waiting for them to recover and come closer, as we were still a bit far from each other. I tried to not think about how dirty my cloak was getting...

After several seconds the captor ponies started laughing. “Well, would you look at that!,” one on the front, who was levitating a long object made out of metal and wood, said. I quickly recognized it as a gun, despite how different it was from the magic guns Stable Eight’s security ponies carried. “Slaves are now throwing themselves at us or what?”

Another realization. Slaves. The ponies they’ve captured were now their slaves. Kind of obvious, come to think of it now…

My attention focused on the buck that dropped his sledgehammer. He was picking it up, again in his mouth, which I found odd. I began to wonder why he wasn’t using his magic… but then I realized he couldn’t use it. He didn’t have a horn.

I was looking at an earth pony.

I’ve read about them, but I never expected to see one. Their kind lacked horns and the ability to use magic, nor did they have wings or the ability to control the weather. However, they made it up in physical strength and ingenuity. They were responsible for the technological progress of Equestria during the war - weapons, terminals, factories, you name it.

That mare on the billboard was also an earth pony. That must have been what made me think of her as “weird”.

I was itching to learn just how different they were from unicorns...

“What are you waiting for?! Get the white bitch!”

Oh wait, I was still in danger.

At the order of the pony with a whip, the two slavers started walking towards me. I noticed a pair of shackles sticking out of the saddlebag of the pony with a sledgehammer.

“Good morning, gentlecolts,” I greeted them, smiling pleasantly.

The pony with a gun also smiled, though his expression was far from pleasant. Rather vomit-inducing. “Well, aren’t you a nice girl. Maybe you will be nice and put those chains on yourself, eh?”

Okay, not ten years ago I was still getting bullied, been thought of as a freak, and ponies avoided speaking with me. Now (or, well, until a few days ago), though, I had practically the entire Stable wrapped around my hoof.

How long would it take to convert those barbarians in similar manner?

“Oh, I don’t think those will be necessary,” I replied, nodding at the shackles. “I actually hoped you would have a job for me. You see, I’m a doctor-”

I trailed off as I found myself staring into the barrel of the gun.

“I don’t care if you are a doctor or a princess,” the buck told me, raising a gun a bit. He grinned “Who you are matters shit now. Stand still, and I might…”

From the wagon’s directions, I managed to catch; “Wait, did she say she’s a doctor?”

“I think your boss is of a different opinion,” I interrupted the slaver innocently.

The buck grimaced, but before he could reply (or shoot me), one of the ponies sitting on the wagon shouted: “Sawed-Off, Smash, get ’er over here!”

Not waiting for either of the bucks, I headed towards the wagon. The two slaves pooling it were in terrible condition; they had bruises all over their faces, their barding was ragged and bloodied, and were taking quick, pained breaths.

They probably got shot… and the bullets must have broken some of their ribs, I noticed, passing them. Healing potions don’t restore crippled bones, after all…

I turned my attention to the ponies on the wagon. The one with the whip was, as far as I could tell, healthy. The other two, though, definitely needed medical attention. The earth pony mare had her foreleg bandaged, and was also taking short breaths. The buck was laying on his side, his torso wrapped in bandages, with four spots marked by blood.

Oh, how I wanted to examine the mare properly… the smell of blood wasn’t helping me fight off that urge...

“Ya’re a doctor?” the mare asked, rasping. One of her orange eyes she kept closed due to the pain she was in.

I nodded, jumping at the wagon, and ignoring the shout of protest from the whip-wielding pony. “Hello sweetie. What exactly is the problem?” I asked politely.

I could always use the Diagnosis spell to quickly tell me what was wrong with her, but until I was certain that they weren’t going to attack me, I figured it would be best to not light up my horn.

“What, ya’re blind?” the mare snorted. “Ah have a broken leg. Wish Ah killed that fucker...” she added under her breath, glaring at one of the slaves pulling the wagon.

“What about your chest?” I inquired. “How many broken ribs do you have?”

The mare looked surprised, but before she could answer, the pony with the whip came in between us. “Can I ask why exactly we’re not putting this bitch in chains?”

“Cause Ah want to get fuckin’ healed, Whip Crack,” the mare bristled. “We’re still hours away from Appleloosa, and if she can put my leg back in place and make me stop spittin’ blood, Ah will make a fuckin’ petition t’ Black Widow to have her take yar boyfriend’s job if ya don’t fucking shut up!”

Put my leg back in place… open fracture?

“You-” the buck, Whip Crack, looked as if about to attack her, but he seemed to calm down a bit. “Pff, whatever. Did I say that you could stop!?” Apparently, having lost interest with me, he decided to take out his frustration on the slaves. “Move your sorry asses!”

As his whip once again cracked, I returned my attention to my patients. “I will first take care of your leg, then I will cast a spell to see what else is wrong with you. Okay?” I asked.

As I said that, the wagon and this slaver’s caravan began moving again.

She nodded. I began to untangle her bandage, but she immediately cringed in pain. Seeing this, I concentrated my magic.

Her eyes widened in alarm when a flash of light shot from my horn and hit her leg, but her expression quickly turned into a puzzled one. “Wha- what did ya do?” she asked, stunned.

“Anesthetic spell,” I replied, unwrapping the bandage. “Basically, I removed feeling from your leg. It should return in about an hour.”

I could feel her gaze on me, as well as that of the slavers and slaves marching behind the wagon. Even Whip Crack, who, based on what the mare shouted earlier, was interested in the other gender, was glancing at me sideways, though it had probably more to do with my condition.

“What are ya, anyway?” the mare I was healing finally asked what all of them must have been thinking.

Resisting an urge to chide her that it would be polite to first ask about my name, I replied: “I assume you are referring to the whiteness of my coat and mane and to the color of my eyes?” Without waiting for an answer, I said. “I’m an albino. It’s a congenical disorder. My body lacks pigment.” A glance at the mare’s face told me that she understood none of it. “It’s not contagious,” I assured her, taking off the rest of the bandage and looking at her wound.

As I had guessed, this was an open fracture. Her radius was broken in half, and it pierced her skin. I concentrated again, and lowered my horn. Red aura surrounded her leg. I focused on the bone, putting it back in its place and mending it, making two halves become one again. It was a very difficult spell, requiring utmost attention… but luckily, I was an experienced medical doctor, with vast knowledge about equine anatomy. True, until now all my patients were unicorns, but, anticipating the different density of the bone, I adjusted the spell correctly.

With the bone whole and put back in its place, closing the wound was a matter of second. “Done. Now hold still, I need to check your chest,” I said, moving my head closer to her body and scanning magically. “Ribs from fifth to seventh on the left are broken,” I said out loud, “several bruises, but nothing life-threatening… what is this?” I asked, puzzled.

My Diagnosis Spell was giving me weird feeling. It was a similar one to how it reacted to a sickness, but much weaker, plus I couldn’t see any visible signs of the mare being sick.

“What’s wrong?” she asked; I detected a hint of panic in her voice.

“What could this-” I muttered, but then it hit me. “Oh wait, I think this is radiation poisoning. Sorry, I used to live in a Stable until recently, hadn’t really got an occasion to diagnose one… it’s only minor one, I can try curing it later, though given how small it is, you can safely wait until later to use a Rad-away. As for the ribs…” I focused my magic on them, putting them together. The mare gave a grunt of pain. “Done.”

“Ya could have warned me…” the mare muttered, massaging her side with her right foreleg. “Whoa, ya really healed me already… Somethin’ like this would take Cutter ages to heal-”

“Hey!” Whip Crack shouted from up-front.

“Quit yar whinin’, Ah was jokin’ earlier,” the mare replied.

While those two bickered, I focused on the laying buck. Scanning him with a spell let me know that there were three foreign objects in him. Bullets, by the look of it. He was lucky; they missed his organs. However, removing them was still going to be a bit tricky. Removing objects from a body could be done by one of three ways. I could simply use magic to make his body regenerate and direct it to push the bullets out. That, however, would require more energy from me, and I wanted to retain most of my strength. I could also try using my levitation to pull the bullets off, but for that I would need to know how they look. And the last option would be simply using scalpel and or tweezers, which I didn’t have… but I could make them.

I unwrapped bandages above one bullethole and paused. With a spell, I conjured a small knife made entirely out of magic, thin enough to be used like scalpel. This spell didn’t require much energy, and had the advantage of being perfectly sterile. I manouvered the red blade perfectly above the wound.

“Ah’m Apple Core, by the way,” the earth pony mare, who finished her argument with Whip Crack, spoke.

I turned back to her and smiled. “Doctor Angel.”

The mare snorted, though not in the mean way. “Really?”

“Yeah, my parents used to call me ‘their little Angel’,” I giggled. Turning back to my current patient, I added: “Now please be quiet, I need to focus. This is going to hurt,” I told the buck. “I can use Anesthetic spell, but it would have to affect your entire body, making you a vegetable for an hour. Want me to cast it?”

The buck, who stayed silent through the arguments between Apple Core and Whip Crack, shook his head. “Nah, I’ll be fine. A guy like me can take a bit of pain,” he added with a wink.

I stifled a giggle; I figured I would let him keep his dignity a bit longer, despite how adorable he was right now. “Alright, let’s start then…”

Three removed bullets and a lot of high-pitch screaming later, the buck was good as new. He jumped off the wagon, to help the other slavers guard the slaves and nurse his pride.

“That was fun,” Apple Core commented, grinning. “So, ya’re lookin’ for a job?”

I nodded, sitting down on the edge of the wagon and crossing my hind legs. “Yes, though I don’t want to replace this… Cutter?” I asked, glancing at Whip Crack. It was a rather weird name for a medic… then again…

Turning back to Apple Core, I caught her staring in the direction of my marehood, which was shielded by my hind legs. “Sweetie, it’s impolite to stare,” I chided her, crossing my legs a bit tighter.

Apple Core blushed and immediately looked up. Several slavers chuckled. “Ah’m not into mares!” she snapped. “Ya’re just… sittin’ weirdly.”

I shrugged and smiled. “So I’ve been told. Going back to the subject - as I said, I don’t want to replace Cutter. I will be perfectly happy to work as his helper. I’m sure that…” I paused, looking for the right words, “... in your line of work, you could use a second medic.”

“Yeah, Cutter keeps complainin’ about havin’ too much to do,” Apple Core said. “And seein’ how medics are hard t’ come by, Ah’m sure Black Widow will gladly take ya in.”

“I still say we should just put her with the rest,” Whip Crack said from the front. “We’re one slave short anyway. She would fetch a big price, being a unicorn and all.”

“And hot,” Smash, who was listening in on the conversation, commented, grinning back at me.

“Oh, shut it,” Apple Core told both of them. “And we wouldn't be a slave short if ya weren’t so trigger happy!” she glared at Whip Crack, who merely shrugged.

“So, do you want me to heal up your slaves?” I asked, glancing at the shackled ponies.

“Sure ya want to work with us? That kind of softness doesn’t bode well,” Apple Core said.

I giggled. “Oh, trust me, I’m anything but soft. I was merely concerned about our speed. Besides, as a doctor, I am obliged to heal and cure ponies.”

“Good, we need to keep them in good condition before we sell them,” the mare chuckled. “Ya’ll get to cure them once we get to Appleloosa.”

“Would you mind if I would ask you some questions?” I asked carefully. So far, she seemed friendly, but seeing in what kind of line of work she was in…

“Sure, we’ve got a while ‘til we hit Appleloosa.”

The talk I had with Apple Core during the ride back was certainly informative. Even though she didn’t know all there was to the Equestrian Wasteland - as I learned Equestria was now called this days - she certainly answered a lot of my questions. The fact that those answers led to further questions was another thing.

She told me that the cloud cover was indeed the work of the pegasi. Apparently, when the zebras blew up Equestria, the pegasi decided to abandon their earth-bound brothers and sister and closed up the skies. Since then, they lived up there, ruled by the Grand Pegasus Enclave. Occasionally, though, one or two of them would come down and live on the ground for whatever reason. Those were called Dashite, and were considered outcast by their own people. One such pegasus was living somewhere close to New Appleloosa, and was using the slavers my new friends sent in that direction as shooting practice.

I would love to examine him…

I also learned that those ponies would get sold to a certain griffin in Fillydelphia by the name Stern, who worked for a pony called Red Eye - the same one, as I had learned, who was making that boring speech I listened to on the radio. Small wasteland.

“Yeah, he keeps making those speeches ‘bout rebuildin’ Equestria and such, how all of us have to play a part in it” Apple Core told me. “As long as he pays for his ‘workers’, Ah ain’t complainin’.”

“That seems… noble,” I commented carefully. I had some misgivings about this Red Eye. This whole ‘rebuilding Equestria’ seemed a bit fishy.

I would need more information to form a concrete opinion.

Apple Core also gave me some information about the more important settlements (meaning, the ones that were too big for them raid and gather inhabitants to sell later), such as New Appleloosa, or raider-invested Ponyville and Shattered Hoof, and those further away like Tenpony Tower, Friendship City and Bucklyn Cross. She also warned me about more dangerous places, like Manehattan and Fillydelphia, or the most lethal: the Everfree Forest, Canterlot, and Splendid Valley.

Before I could ask for specifics about those three locations, I’d been informed that basically everywhere in the Wasteland was dangerous. Apple Core was astonished when I told her that during the half-hour between when I stumbled upon their caravan and when I left my Stable, nothing tried to kill me.

I wish I could have pulled more information out of her - and I would have, if Whip Crack wouldn’t have kept interrupting us and telling us to shut up - before Appleloosa came into view. It was… certainly different from a Stable. It stood next to a railroad, a collection of several dilapidated wooden buildings, boxcars, some metal structures and cages for slaves.

This was to be my new home for the time being. All things considered, I suppose I should’ve been happy that I wasn’t going there in chains.

“You certainly took your sweet time,” came a comment as we passed the first buildings (and first set of guards). I turned around to see a black unicorn mare approaching. She wore a red dress, much unlike the armor the other slavers wore.

This was the leader Apple Core told me about. Black Widow.

“What’s with the chariot?” Widow asked, trotting alongside with it and giving Whip Crack an annoyed look.

“Apple Core and Muzzle got messed up, had to drive them part of the way,” Whip Crack replied, shrugging.

Widow raised an eyebrow. She turned to look at Muzzle, who was together with the other slavers shoving chained ponies into one of the empty cages, and then to Apple Core, who was now together with me jumping off the wagon. “‘Part of the way’?” the black mare asked, turning to Whip Crack.

“The white freak healed them up.”

Since I basically grew up hearing things like this, I didn’t take offense, but I was touched when Apple Core bristled on my behalf.

“I’m going to assume he’s talking about you,” Widow said, turning to me.

While I nodded, Apple Core quickly explained. “We picked her up on our way back. Said she’s a doctor, looking for a job.”

“Really now? That’s rather new.” She looked me over, her eyes stopping on my PipBuck and the Stable barding under my lab coat. “Shot in the dark: you’re from a Stable.”

“Indeed,” I nodded once again. “Due to certain events, though, I was thrown out of it. I’m Doctor Angel.”

“Huh, a working Stable somewhere nearby?” Widow smirked. “Feel like having a little revenge on them?”

I smiled. “I do not mean to sound offensive, but I doubt your ponies could survive an encounter with Stable Eight’s security.”

“Oh really?” Widow raised an eyebrow. “I think I would disagree with you on that, but I suppose we can discuss this some other time. So you’re looking for a job?”

“Yes.”

“She’s good?” she asked, turning to Apple Core.

“Had a bone stickin’ out of mah leg and three broken ribs, fixed me in like seconds. I think she’s better than Cutter,” she added, giving Whip Crack a dirty look.

Widow chuckled, noticing the look. “Then I’m sure he will appreciate her helping him out. Whip Crack,” she called out to the buck. “Take her to your coltfriend and introduce her. And do mention that he has to check those new slaves.”

“Sure,” Whip Crack rolled his eyes. Turning to me, he added. “Let’s go, freak.”

“I will talk with you later,” Black Widow told me, extending a hoof. “Welcome to Appleloosa.”

I shook her hoof. “Thank you, I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

The black unicorn smiled and began to leave. “Ah also have to go,” Apple Core told me. “Ah need to have a drink and hit the hay. Ah’ll show you around later.”

“Thank you, I look forward to it,” I said earnestly. “Thanks for everything.”

“Don’t mention it,” the earth pony mare replied, already walking away.

“Hey, are ya coming freak?!”

Cutter’s clinic had definitely seen its better days. The slavers’ medic had made his home in a building on the outskirts of Appleloosa, in what used to be an actual clinic or a hospital before the Last Day. The symbol of the Ministry of Peace, three pink butterflies in the middle of a cross, was displayed on a sign above the entrance. The building used to be multi-story, but all that was left of it now was the ground floor. The floors above it got destroyed either by time, nature, or some explosive; only a few jagged pieces of wood and metal remained of them, now making up the clinic’s roof.

I followed my annoyed guide as he opened the door. Behind it, what greeted us was what used to be a waiting room, with a reception desk right next to the entrance. Now there were two camp beds standing on the opposite sides of the room, with curtains placed around them to offer the patients some privacy. Further I could see doors to two other rooms. I guessed that in the past they served to take in the patients for things like regular check-ups and medical visits, while more serious cases, such as accidents, were treated upstairs. On the opposite side from the rooms was a ruined stairway and a hole that must have once had remains of an elevator in it, before the slavers or somepony else looted them for materials.

On the walls of the room were many posters (with graffiti painted over some of them) from the Ministry of Peace, which I was familiar with from the medical books I studied. “War? Fear? Death? We must do better! Ministry of Peace”, and “You don’t need to be a Steel Ranger to be a Hero! Join the Ministry of Peace Today!”

Oh, so that’s why the name “Steel Rangers” seemed so familiar to me when Apple Core had mentioned them.

There was also another door, leading to a bathroom. I wondered if the plumbing in this town still worked...

“Yes, who is it?!” a gruff voice came from behind one of the doors, obscuring the sounds of a strange, tuba-heavy music coming from a radio on a drawer near a bed.

The door opened, revealing a gray unicorn buck. He appeared to be in his forties, but seeing how he lived in a different environment than I was used to, I couldn't be sure if I gauged his age correctly. Either way, he appeared to be slightly older than Whip Crack. He wore a ragged white lab coat, similar to mine, though much dirtier and bloodied. It also didn’t cover his legs.

His eyes softened when he looked at the dark brown buck beside me. “Hey, hon,” he greeted him. Then his expression grew once again harsh as he focused on me. “Who the hell is this?” Cutter asked, trotting towards us.

“Your new nurse,” Whip Crack answered for me before I could even open my mouth.

Ignoring the jab, I cleared my throat and smiled. “Good evening, mister Cutter.” I could have used “doctor” there, I suppose, but I seriously doubted he had any form of proper medical education. “Black Widow agreed to hire me as your helper. My name is Angel,” I felt certain that it wouldn't do me good to brag about my title. “Do you have any jobs for me?”

Cutter blinked, surprised, then looked me up and down. “Hm, I suppose I could use a hoof with all those patients they keep sending me. I hope you don’t expect me to pay,” he added, his frown suggesting he wouldn’t be happy if I would try and correct him.

I shook my head. “Considering my situation, I am perfectly happy with having a place to sleep and food to eat.”

For now…

My new boss snorted. “Fine, then. I will give you caps for something to eat from time to time.”

Caps?

“You can sleep behind the reception desk,” Cutter continued. “Those beds,” he pointed at the two camp beds, “are for patients, but in the storage room,” the other door, next to his office, “you will find a free mattress. Also, if you find a way to open those damned doors to the basement, you can sleep in there. Since you’re back,” Cutter said, turning to Whip Crack, “I’m guessing we have new merchandise?”

“Yeah, seven of ‘em.”

“Good, then you can start making yourself useful,” Cutter told me, going back to his office. He came out shortly, with several sheets of paper held by his magic. “Go heal the new meat. Take how many supplies you will need from the storage, but don’t overdo it; we just need to have them be alive until we sell them, got it? I’m not a fucking charity.”

“Of course.”

“Once you are done, fill those forms. Since we need some form of organization in the business, we need to write shit like name, age, race, cutie mark, and where we caught them. Got all of that?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, taking the sheets of paper.

“Good, now beat it, Whip Crack and I are gonna be busy,” he said, giving the other buck a suggestive look.

I nodded and began leaving, giving them their privacy. Behind me, I could hear them both walking back to Cutter’s office.

“You’re sure about leaving that white freak to do everything?” I caught Whip Crack’s voice. My ear twitched. “What if the boss figures she’s more useful than you-”

“Oh please, that bitch will never fire me. I have too much shit on her,” Cutter chuckled.

I closed the door behind me, smirking. Thanks for telling me she won’t cry if you were gone…

“Name?” I asked, looking at my last patient.

The night was already falling. Back in Stable Eight, it would mean that the lights would be turned down, so it was never really truly dark in there; out here in the Wasteland was a different matter. It was rapidly becoming pitch black. I already had to turn on my PipBuck light.

Treating those seven ponies was tiresome. Though the slavers avoided hurting them too seriously (as they still needed to make the journey back to Appleloosa), they were all in bad condition. Those two that were pulling the wagon were the worst, with broken ribs, fractured bones and punctured organs.

After examining them all, I had to go back to the clinic to pick up some bandages and healing potions. I could use my magic to heal them, but those two worst cases would require most of my strength. After taking the supplies from the storage quickly (and trying to ignore the sounds coming from the closed room), I raced back to the cages and got to work.

The group of ponies were from a settlement known as Mudhill (Original.), that was basically just a few houses huddled together, as I learned while tending to their wounds. I quickly learned why this was a medic’s job to get that information; ponies were more eager to talk with somebody healing them. Of course, I’m sure that most slavers would be quite happy beating the answers out of them, but Black Widow apparently didn’t want them damaging her merchandise more than it was needed.

Of course, there were exceptions to that rule.

The last pony didn’t react to my question. Unless you count glaring at me as if he was about to kill me as a reaction. Recalling that this was the same pony who hurt Apple Core so badly, I made sure his chains were still in place before I spoke to him again.

“Look,” I said gently, “I understand that given your current status you might be uncooperative, but if you don’t answer me, they will bring in somepony who won’t be asking politely.”

“Good,” the earth pony buck replied. “Let them try. I will fucking kill them.”

“You’d best leave him alone, Doctor,” one of the other slaves called to me. “Bulk Build’s wife died in the slavers’ attack.”

Me ears dropped hearing that. Now I understood his attitude. I recalled Apple Core mentioning Whip Crack killing a pony during their attack. She must have meant Bulk Build’s wife. Turning back to him, I said: “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off,” Bulk Build replied, looking the other way.

I sighed uncomfortably. I truly felt for him. Stepping closer, I lowered my voice and tried again: “I also lost ponies dear to me, so I understand-”

“You understand nothing!” he hissed back. One of the guards near the slave cage pointed his gun at him and took aim, but I quickly waved him that everything was okay. I wanted to hear him out. “You’re some little filly from a Stable!” he continued. “You have no idea what the Wasteland is like! You never had to see somebody you love be murdered!”

Tears had began to form in his eyes. He buried his face in his hooves. “I will kill that fucker, I swear, I will make him pay…”

My ears twitched. An idea started forming in my head. Paying no heed to my safety, I trotted closer and crouched next to him. “Killing him won’t be enough,” I whispered to his ear.

His head turned sharply to me. “Wha-” he started, but I silenced him by pressing my hoof to his mouth.

“Stay quiet, or we’ll both be in trouble,” I told him, knowing that the guards were observing us. I patted him on his head, trying to look as if I was comforting him; they couldn’t fault a doctor for that. “I was also wronged by others,” I said, keeping my voice quiet. “Life in a Stable isn’t exactly as perfect as it might seem.”

Bulk Build was listening to me, though I could tell he wanted me to get to the point.

“I was wronged, and I sought revenge. But I didn’t kill them; that would have been too easy. All it would do is make them get away from their punishment, into the realm that was beyond my reach. Instead, I chose an adequate revenge for what had been done to me. Take you, for example; your wife had been murdered. Wouldn’t it be a fitting punishment for her murderer to suffer like you do?” I asked, and lowered my lips to his ear. “Wouldn’t it be fair to take away from him the one who is dearest to him?” I whispered.

Now I had his undivided attention. He was looking at me, his eyes a bit moist after crying into his hooves, and I could practically see the gears in his head turning. “Yes…” he finally said, nodding. “That… would be better… That fucker deserves to suffer.”

“I can help you,” I offered.

He quickly became suspicious. “Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “Why would you help me? What’s in it for you?”

“I have a few reasons,” I admitted. “One being that I genuinely feel sorry for what was done to you,” I said gently, placing a hoof on his own. “The other… because it will benefit me.” I smirked. “Tell me, that pony who murdered your wife, he was the dark brown buck called Whip Crack?” When he nodded, I knew I had him. “Tomorrow, I will make sure he and his special somepony will be somewhere nearby, and you will understand why it will benefit me to have him killed.”

Bulk glared at me, but he nodded. “Alright, I can understand that. But how do you plan on-”

I once again pressed a hoof to his lips. “Tomorrow night I will let you out,” I said, and finally left his side.

I walked out of the cage, writing Bulk’s name in the form. “What was with the hugging?” the guard asked me as he opened the cage for me.

Smiling, I explained: “I am a doctor; what’s wrong with being concerned with my patients’ emotional well-being?”

The guard gave me a puzzled look. “Um, well… wait, if you care about them so much, won’t you have a problem with us selling them?”

“Sweetie, a doctor’s job is to save lives,” I told him, lifting my hoof to brush his cheek; he seemed younger by a year or two than me. As I expected, he practically melted at my touch. “If they spend it in chains is none of my business.”

Oddly, as I left the smitten buck behind and headed towards the clinic, I found myself wondering if that was really true. Until today, I had never seen slaves, ponies in chains waiting to be sold to somepony like they were property. It was… degrading. Ponies were ponies, living beings. Having them in chains was one thing, but being treated as objects?

I entered the clinic, my mind already abandoning that reasoning and focusing at the plan of having Cutter taken out of the picture by Bulk Build. I would not be his “nurse”, as his coltfriend put it.

Speaking of, I noticed that there were no noises coming from the room. My E.F.S. told me they we still in the room, so they must be asleep. I pondered going to get Bulk now, but I decided to let those two have one more night.

I took one of the mattresses from the storage room and put it behind the reception desk. I was really tired; the toll from today’s events had taken on my was starting to get noticed by my body. But before I would call it a night, I still had one more thing to do.

Actually, make that two.

About five minutes later, I was unhappy. After making my business in the bathroom, I was disappointed to find out that there was no running water. I was never so happy to have learned the Disinfection spell as I was now. I never expected I would have to resort to using it to clean my whole body.

I left the bathroom and headed towards the ruined staircase. Cutter mentioned something about a locked door to the basement. I wanted to check it out.

The stairs leading down led to a massive steel door, which, by the look of the dents, cracks and gunshots, many of my new friends tried to open by strength in the past. Also, as I took a closer look at the lock, I noticed that it was busted.

However, I was in luck. There was also a terminal next to the door.

I turned on the small computer and tried to hack it. Working around terminals’ systems was a useful skill to have in a Stable, and it looked like it was going to be equally useful in the Wasteland.

I quickly found out, though, that there was a reason that nopony figured out how to open this door in the past two centuries. The password was hard to guess. I soon had to log out of the system, as I didn’t want it to lock up. After it restarted, I tried again. Three more tries later, and the terminal was still refusing to cooperate. I rebooted it again.

A smirk of satisfaction appeared on my muzzle soon. I got it on the second try. The password was “defibrillator”.

That gave me an idea…

Ignoring it for now, I unlocked the door through the terminal. Grabbing them with magic, I slowly opened them, curious to what I would see.

The basement beneath the clinic was filled with many drawers and cabinets full of medical equipment. I could see in the green light of my PipBuck braces, ampoules, tweezers, scalpels, tubes, syringes, microscopes... There were IV stands in the corner, and a few refrigerators. I opened one and found several medicines and blood pacs in it.

I continued to scan the room. There were a few generators in the center. Probably a backup source of power in case of emergency. I wondered if they still worked…

A pony could create a laboratory down here, I noticed, smiling.

There was a desk with a terminal in the corner, as well as a strange spherical object next to it. It was made of metal, and there were folded limbs attached to it. Some kind of maintenance robot?

I turned my attention back to the desk. The were two things on it other than a terminal. One was a magazine called The MoP Field Guide: Saving Lives with a Smile. The other, far more interesting, was a statuette, a statuette of a pony to be exact. But not just any pony. The statuette was depicting a yellow pegasus mare, with long pink mane and tail. Her flank was adorned by a symbol of three butterflies.

So, this was Fluttershy, the Mare of the Ministry of Peace. The mare who dedicated herself to healing everybody during the war, no matter if they were a pony or a zebra.

I grabbed the statuette gently with my magic… and shook. I felt as if a surge of magic had washed over me. I looked at the statuette, puzzled. Was it magical? There wasn’t any magic in it that I could sense…

As I looked at it, I realized that there were words written on the pedestal on which Fluttershy stood. Two words that I should have expected, given what little I knew about this mare, but still took me by surprise.

Be Kind.

I put the statuette back on the desk, glaring at it. Somehow, I felt as if it was… accusing me. Shaking my head, I concentrated on the terminal instead. Unlike the previous one, I hacked it quite easily, on my second try. However, much to my disappointment, it contained nothing but notes of a doctor that used to work in the clinic during the War.

Entry One:
I can’t believe so many ponies in this town got drug problems! I grew up here, and I never noticed there were any junkies in Appleloosa. I suppose it might be due to the war, difficult times caused ponies to seek escape in drugs... I had to move out of my office to make room for the patients being treated for addiction. Had to strap them down somewhere until the detox can flush their bodies of whatever the hell they've been all taking. Until then, I guess I’ll have to make do with this as my office.

At least the broken janitor will keep me company. I wonder when they will send somebody to fix it?

Entry Two:
Got the results from the analysis of the patients with addiction’s blood samples. According to them, they all got hooked up by the same drug. That, alone, wouldn’t be so surprising, if it weren’t a drug that was one of the forbidden Zebra drugs! What in Celestia name is going on? Not so long as a month ago there were MoM goons in town; shouldn’t they have been found if somepony was smuggling illegal drugs to Equestria?

I should report this, but what if the MoM had missed this on purpose ? What if somepony in the higher ups was secretly making money out of this smuggling deal? I… I wouldn’t want to get into trouble… you keep hearing what those guys from the Ministry of Morale do with ponies…

It’ll be best if I just send in a report to Canterlot about what the blood analysis showed and leave it at that. Hopefully, if something wrong is going on, then somepony in the Ministry of Peace will work it out from there.

Entry Three:
I cannot believe what happened today! Fluttershy, the Mare of the Ministry of Peace, came here! She wanted to personally congratulate me on my efforts in Appleloosa! She even brought a team of medics to help out!

Oh my gosh, I still can’t believe it! That mare is the reason why I became a doctor! For her to talk with me, to thank me... I cannot find words to describe how happy I am! But that’s still not all!

When the ponies she brought tended to the patients, relieving me and everypony else at the clinic for a few hours, Fluttershy and I went to get some lunch (of course, there were a few bodyguards nearby, just in case). I told her how much I admired her, ever since I saw her helping ponies and buffalo wounded during that battle back when I was a colt, and how I became a doctor later on and joined her ministry, and how I too hated this war. I stopped talking, though, when I noticed that she was crying, but soon it turned out that she was crying because she was happy (thank Celestia, her pet rabbit looked as if he was about to tear me a new one). She was happy that I told her that, that her efforts inspired somepony. She then gave me a statuette of herself as a thank you gift, so that I would remember why I wanted to help ponies every time I looked at it.

I could tell that there was something wrong with her, making her more emotional. Something was clearly bugging her, but when I tried to ask, she smiled and said it was nothing. I’m not sure what to think of that… Either way, she had to return to Canterlot, so she said her goodbyes soon after giving me that statuette.

I am honored for this gift, but honestly, I was just glad Fluttershy had promised to look into this Zebra drug thing, and urged me to forget about it. Took a load out of my mind!

The entries ended after the third one. Looking at the dates, I could tell why. This buck wasn’t making those notes every day since he moved down into the basement, there were two-to-three day intervals between each of them. The last one was made two days before the bombs fell.

“Are ya going t’ sleep all day?”

I yawned and opened my eyes. Apple Core’s head was hovering above me, and her hoof was prodding my shoulder. I found myself tempted to once again joke about her being interested in me, but decided against it.

“What time is it?” I asked, yawning and raising from my mattress. My lab coat that I used as a blanket slid from my body.

“Around nine. Ah thought Ah would bring ya somethin’ t’ eat; can’t imagine Cutter being a carin’ boss,” she muttered, glaring at closed door to his office.

I, on the other hoof, looked at the plate on the reception desk. It was full of the same canned food Apple Core treated me to yesterday during our ride to Appleloosa. I sighed, noting that the food will be probably the hardest part to get used to.

“Thank you,” I said, not wanting to sound ungrateful. As I started eating it, I turned to her. “So, what plans for today?”

“Ah hoped to show you around, Cutter usually ‘opens’ this place at ten, so ya should have some free time now. Not sure how yar day will look after ‘at. As for me, Ah got guard duty until nightfall. Maybe we can hit the saloon after that?”

“That sound lovely,” I said, smiling and turning to her. I noticed then where she was looking at and the smile turned into a smirk. “Sweetie, are you sure you’re not into mares?”

Apple Core gagged, taken by surprise. She blushed furiously and glared at me. “Ah was lookin’ at yar cutie mark!”

I giggled. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

The mare calmed down. “So, what is that thing anyway?” she asked, pointing at my flank.

A smile crossed my muzzle as I looked down on my cutie mark. “It’s a dragon that devours it’s own tail,” I said. I pressed my hoof to it and drew a circle, trailing it from tail to head.

“Looks like a snake.”

I rolled my eyes. Wasn’t the first time I heard that. “Either way, it’s still a creature that devours it’s own tail. Took me a while to figure out what it meant, but I finally found it in one of the books in my Stable’s library. It was once a symbol of the eternal life cycle, eternity and unity, known as the Ouroboros. And yeah, even in that book it wasn’t written if it was a dragon or a serpent.”

“How in the hay can ya get a cutie mark like that?!” Apple Core asked, perplexed.

“Oh please, sweetie, a mare has to have her secrets,” I told her, giggling. “I did not ask how you got your cutie mark… and, since I am polite and do not stare at ponies’ flanks, I don’t know what it is.”

She gave me a dirty look. “It’s a row of apple cores placed right next t’ each other,” she informed me. “Ah’m good at roundin’ ponies up.”

“Really?” I asked, growing curious. Rising from the now empty plate, I continued as I picked up my stable barding. “I would love to hear how you got it. Will you tell me about it while you show me around the town?”

It didn’t take Apple Core much time to show me around Appleloosa. Other than the clinic, a building I was already familiar with, the only really important places were the town hall, where Black Widow slept and ran things from, an armory, a station for the train, and the saloon. There were also some ‘barracks’ in which most of the slavers slept in and cages for the slaves.

Noticing a cauldron with some liquid-like substance near the cages, I trotted over to take a whiff. Immediately, I pulled back. “Ugh, and I thought those potatoes in cans you keep giving me were bad,” I said, turning to Apple Core, who rolled her eyes. “What is this?”

“Oatmeal,” one of the slavers guarding them replied.

I looked at him. “Oatmeal? Are you crazy?” I put a hoof on the edge of the cauldron. “Have you ever seen an oatmeal?”

The sleeping drug I prepared last night dropped from my hoof into the liquid, ensuring that once the slaves would get fed shortly before nightfall, they would all go to sleep.

“Who cares, it’s for slaves,” the guard said, shrugging.

“Well, I wouldn’t eat if even if you’d pay me,” I said, turning to look at slaves. When I managed to catch Bulk’s eyes, I tapped at the cauldron.

He looked at the cauldron and nodded.

“Speakin’ of payin’,” Apple Core said, “boss wanted me to tell ya to go meet ‘er tomorrow, t’ make it official ya work with us. Ya know, stuff like payment and shit. Although, given how ya work under Cutter, he will ‘ave most to say about that matter.”

“Why tomorrow?”

“She’s busy preperin’ a new offer t’ send t’ Stern.” Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “And speakin’ of stern…”

I followed her eyes and saw my boss and his special somepony trotting towards us. My eyes darted towards the slaves inside the cages, searching for Bulk Build. I didn’t have to worry; he was already glaring at the buck who murdered his wife.

It was starting to look like a gift from the Goddesses. I planned to send Cutter later to check on slaves, saying something like “I never treated a pony in the Wasteland, I’m not sure if I did the job right,” then bump into Whip Crack by accident in Appleloosa and start thanking him for putting up with me and lead him to his coltfriend, but this was going to save so much of my dignity!

“Good morning, boss,” I greeted him, not needing to fake happiness. “How may I be of help?”

“You can start by not sneaking off ever again,” Cutter replied, frowning. “Somepony needs to run the clinic. Go do that; I will give the slaves a check up.”

Apple Core looked as if she wanted to say something in my defense. I delicately poked her so that the bucks wouldn’t notice and shook my head. Turning to them, I pouted. “Do you not trust me to do my job?”

Cutter rolled his eyes. “Actually, no, but I have to do this everyday either way. Some idiots around here like to damage the merchandise when nopony’s looking. Come to think of it,” he added, brushing his chin, “it’s most usually a merchandise of the female variety.”

The thought of a gay buck checking on the mares was oddly comforting. “I see. Well then, I guess I’m off to the clinic then,” I said, nodding my head and beginning to trot away.

Whip Crack nuzzled Cutter. “I need to go, got guard duty. See you tonight.”

Cutter replied by kissing him.

“Awww! You guys are so sweet!” I called back at them, while Apple Core was making puking sounds.

The two buck glared at me. “Fuck off!” they both said in unison before they parted.

My eyes, however, were no longer on them, but on the slave inside a cage. Bulk Build was now observing Cutter very intensively.

“Can’t really understand what Cutter was complaining about” I said, trotting together with Apple Core through Appleloosa towards Salt Block, the town’s saloon. “We hardly had any patients today.”

“That’s because there weren’t any raid parties returnin’ today,” Apple Core pointed out. “Wait until Cracker’s group will come in a day or two, they were sent t’ a bigger town than Mudhill. They’re bound t’ come with more slaves and wounds that we had.”

“So do you often attack settlements like that? Seems to me that you would have run out of villages around here already.”

“Nah, we’ve been doin’ that only since Black Widow became the boss. Earlier, we usually just tried capturin’ some travelers.” She looked around after she paused. “Ya know, Ah have no idea how ya can ingore all those ponies starin’ at ya.”

I giggled. Indeed, as we walked through Appleloosa, both now and in the morning, as well as yesterday, ponies kept turning their heads to gawk at me. “I’m simply used to it. I was always perceived as an oddity and was stared at. A very hot oddity since I grew up, I might add.”

“Well, Ah wouldn’t know about that part,” Apple Core rolled her eyes, “so Ah’m gonna take yar word on it. Changin’ subject, how are ya copin’ with workin’ for slavers?”

“I already told you, sweetie, I’m not a pony you would call ‘soft’,” I reminded her. “The only issue I have is with killing; but since that actually hurts your business, you try avoid doing that. So to be honest, I could have landed worse after leaving my Stable.”

With those words, I swung open the door leading to the saloon we had finally reached. A music - the same annoying one as I heard before; couldn’t they change to that other station with Sweetie Belle’s songs? - was barely heard above the chatter of the patrons, majority of them slavers. Apple Core, however, pointed out for me a few merchants that lived in town as well as we made our way to the bar.

Of course, we couldn’t do that without me attracting the attention of everypony. A lot of ponies pointed at me and muttered between themselves; some called and waved, inviting me to their tables, and some chuckled and made obscene gestures to their friends.

“Hey Apple Core, what will it be?” the bartender asked once we sat before the bar.

“Beer for me, and… what d’ya want?” Apple Core asked, turning to me.

“Something without alcohol.”

The earth pony’s eyes became round as plates.

“I don’t drink,” I added.

“Don’t drink?!” She looked at me as if I was crazy. “Angel, ya can’t be serious. What, didn’tya have any alcohol in yar stable or somethin’?”

“Oh, no, we had alcohol,” I assured her. “But I don’t like it.” Apple Core looked at me as if I offended her. “The taste doesn’t sit with me, it ruins your liver, and don’t get me started about how it makes you do stupid things-”

“Tch, fine, whatevs,” Apple Core interrupted me. “One beer and… Ah dunno, a sparkle-cola, Ah guess,” she said, turning to the bartender.

A few moments later, Apple Core was chugging down her beer, while I was looking sceptically at the dark drink. I gave it a sniff; it had a strange smell. Shrugging, I finally decided to take a sip. To my surprise, I found the taste of it rather pleasant; it was carrot flavored… and carbonated?

It was quite good. Very different from the tea I usually drank back in the Stable, but still enjoyable.

A tap on my shoulder took my attention away from my drink. I looked back to see two slaver bucks I was not yet familiar with.

“May I help you?”

The buck grinned. I noticed both of them were missing a few teeth. “You’re than white doctor chick?” one of them asked. “My friend and I wondered if you would like to come over to our table and… examine us.”

I smiled and shook my head. “I’m afraid my schedule is full, try to make an appointment for a future date,” I said, turning back.

“Oh, I see,” the other buck smirked. “You have a thing only for mares.”

“No sweetie,” I told him, looking over my shoulder. “I have standards.”

Several of the patrons that were close enough to hear us laughed, Apple Core being the loudest one. As I returned to my drink, I noticed that she had already finished her beer, and was ordering a new one.

“Another one?”

“What are ya, my mom?” she replied, chuckling.

“I’m just concerned if you have drinking problem,” I shrugged. “Also, a few more of those and you might try to hit on me-”

“Yeah right,” Apple Core interrupted me. She taken a gulp of her beer and continued: “Ah already told ya, Ah’m not into mares.”

“Sweetie, have you taken a look at me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and putting a hoof on my hip. “Nopony is that straight.”

“Yeah, right…”

“Hey, Angel…” the very intoxicated Apple Core started, her foreleg around me and her face so near mine that I had difficulty not gagging at the smell of alcohol in her breath. “What’ya say we ditch this place and go play doctor?”

“So how long has it been?” I asked the bartender with a raised eyebrow, who was laughing and shaking his head. Turning back to Apple Core, I pressed a hoof to her chest, gently pushing her away. “Sweetie,” I started, smiling, “I would love to ‘play doctor’ with you, but you’re drunk. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow regretting anything.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Apple Core continued to try hit on me, though she moved back a bit. “What’s the harm? At’m not gonna spank ya or anythin’!”

“Pity,” I smirked. “Either way, I need to use the little fillies’ room-”

“What are ya, eight?”

“- I’ll be back in a bit. Will you be alright?”

“Pff, what, do Ah look like Ah won’t be?”

“Please don’t make me answer that,” I sighed. Turning to the bartender, I asked: “Can you keep an eye on her?”

When he nodded, I headed towards the bathrooms. Luckily, the fillies’ one was empty, and, what’s more important, still had a working lock. I locked the door and opened the window.

Alright, I thought, pulling myself up the sill. It’s already dark. Even with my white coat, I should make it to the slave cages without being noticed.

Still, to increase my chances, I removed my lab coat and left it in the toilet. With just my stable barding, I was much less conspicuous. I jumped out of the window and started making my way around the town. The saloon was almost on the opposite side of Appleloosa of the slave cages, so I had quite a distance to run, on top of being careful to not get noticed. Thankfully, I still had my E.F.S to warn me if somepony was behind a corner of a building, so I didn’t run into anypony. Also, the guards were more worried about ponies trying to break in or out of Appleloosa, but not so much about sneaking around the town. Thanks to that, not even ten minutes had passed since I left the Salt Block, and I was looking at the cages.

I paused, catching my breath. I really hated running.

The eleven slaves other than Bulk Build were already asleep, thanks to the drug I had slipped to their meal earlier. However, there were two ponies guarding the slaves. I needed to do something about them.

This was going to be tiresome…

“What did you do?” Bulk was asking me several minutes later.

I picked the keys to the cage from the sleeping guard with my teeth. “Aww put thwem t’ seeph,” I said, but realising how it sounded I spit the keys to my hoof and tried again. “I’ve put them to sleep,” I told him, nodding at one of the slaves who was snoring. “As for them, I put a sleeping drug into that oatmeal. Took me most of the night to prepare a drug strong enough to work on so many ponies.”

“Tough,” Bulk commented, clearly not interested in my troubles. Pointing at the lock, he added: “Can you?”

Nodding, I got to unlocking that cage. We had to hurry; not only was somepony bound to want to use the bathroom in the saloon soon, but also my sleeping spell wouldn’t last long.

“So, you want me to kill that medic so you can take his place?” he asked as I unlocked the door.

“No, I’m a homophobe,” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “Yes, that’s the reason. He’s in his clinic, right over there,” I said, pointing in its direction. I risked using the Levitation spell on the keys, despite needing to preserve my energy for later, and moved them to unlock the chains binding Bulk’s legs. “Whip Crack should be with him, so you’ll get to kill his lover right before him. You should have no problem getting there, as long as you stick to the shadows and don’t make noise. Now hurry up,” I said, dropping the keys together with the chain on the ground in the cage, and starting to move the guard who had them near the cage. This way, it would look as if Bulk Build took the keys after the guard fell asleep. “They’re gonna wake up soon.”

Bulk nodded, and without as much as a thank you, he began heading towards the clinic. Wishing him luck silently, I began running back to the saloon.

The alarm was raised just as I jumped back through the window. On the street, ponies called out to help looking for an escapee. I quickly put back on my lab coat and, after sperring a moment to clean the sweat on my face from all the running and to catch my breath,I left the bathroom.

There was no queue forming behind it, but I assumed that any mare that wanted to use it simply went to the male’s bathroom. I trotted calmly, as if nothing had happened, back to where I left Apple Core.

Who was now tongue deep in some buck’s throat.

“How long was I out?” I asked, sitting next to her.

Apple Core pulled her mouth away from the buck with a loud smack. “The hell did’ya eat?! Ya’ve been gone like an hour.”

“Rubbish, it’s been half an hour at best,” I corrected her, blushing a bit from embarrassment over her accusation. “And I’m still getting used to the food you have up here.”

The mare rolled her eyes, losing interest, and returned to her make-out session. I ordered another sparkle-cola and waited.

The saloon was too far away from the clinic for us to hear any commotion, especially with the music playing. But we didn’t need to hear it, the commotion came to us. After several minutes, a few slavers that were on duty ran in, yelling to stop the music.

“Is Doctor Angel here?” one of them called out, his eyes searching through the crowd.

“Here!” I called out, leaving Apple Core behind and trotting towards them. “What’s the matter?”

I didn’t need to fake nervousness. It could be that they’ve figured out I was the one who let Bulk Build lose. But that was a gamble I had to make.

However, such worries evaporated from my mind when the slavers’ faces betrayed their relief at the sight of me. “You need to come with us, Doctor; there’s been an accident.”

I gasped. “What happened here?!”

We were at the clinic. It was a mess. Several cabinets were knocked over and there were sheets of paper everywhere; clear signs of a fight. More obvious, thought, were two dead bodies.

I quickly ran to Cutter, sparing Bulk Build a mere glance; there was a small puddle of blood around him, and his chest was full of holes. I gently moved Whip Crack away from his lover’s body and pressed my ear to his chest, while at the same activating my magic.

“We heard gunshots and then Whip Crack screaming for help,” the buck who came for me informed me. “We’re not sure what exactly happened; he wasn’t too helpful-”

“Strangled,” I cut him off; his throat bore bruises from Bulk’s hooves.

The glow from my horn disappeared.

Pressing my hooves on his chest, right above Cutter’s heart, I started resuscitating him. I pressed him with the weight of my body thirty times, them opened his muzzle to give him mouth-to-mouth. After two breaths into his mouth, I listened to his heart once again.

“Dammit!” I snapped, giving it another go.

I could tell that there were ponies moving around me; somepony trotted to make sure Bulk Build was really dead, a few just came in and were asking what happened; others simply watched my tries to save Cutter’s live.

I once again breathed into his muzzle, and listened if his heart resumed it’s work.

“Shit,” I said out loud, moving away. “Stand back!” I ordered, lowering my horn to his chest. Concentrating, I cast a spell. My magic turned into an electrical charge that I directed into Cutter’s heart. In normal cases of cardiac arrest, a shock like that could kick the heart back into action.

Unfortunately for Whip Crack, it was not the case.

I listened to his chest one last time. When I straightened and looked at Whip Crack, who was looking at me hopefully, I had to shook my head.

He broke down, crying.

“Those guards couldn’t have picked a worse moment to take a nap,” Black Widow commented as she and another pony (probably a bodyguard) joined me.

It was morning. I caught a little sleep last night; there was a lot of commotion involved after the death of the town’s medic. Go figure. Ponies tried to find out just how exactly the slave escaped from the cage, and why, out of all ponies, he murdered Cutter. As some guards remembered seeing me comforting him yesterday, I was of course questioned. I mentioned only that Bulk’s wife was killed.

And… that was it. Nopony suspected me of anything. Apparently, everypony assumed that since I tried so hard to save Cutter, I didn’t have anything to do with his murder.

As for the slaves I drugged, they all woke up after a good shake. Some slavers thought it weird that they all fell asleep at the same time, but nopony questioned it.

It didn’t take long for the slavers to find out that Bulk’s escape was caused by the two guards falling asleep. What exactly happened to them, I did not know, and wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

I was currently watching Whip Crack burying his lover not far away from the clinic when the boss of the slavers approached me. I nodded in agreement but didn’t turn to her yet. “Consequences were tragic, especially for him,” I pointed at Whip Crack.

“Not for you,” she said, her voice neutral.

“Are you-” I started, turning to her.

And froze.

The other pony I heard come with her wasn’t a pony. It was a zebra.

I jumped to him, ignoring Black Widow. I’ve never seen a zebra! Obvious, seeing how I lived in a Stable full of unicorns, but that was beside the point! I looked him up and down, taking in all of his… exoticness! The white coat with black (actually, kind of more dark gray than black) stripes covering his face, back, and legs, as well as mane… the potent muscles, visible even through the barding he wore… the different tail, with hair starting around the third coccygeal vertebra…

It was shocking to see how much alike he was to an earth pony.

“I see you like my bodyguard,” Black Widow said, amused by how I was prancing around him (which only now I had realized I was doing).

Clearing my throat, I nodded. “Sorry, I’ve never seen a zebra. I’m Doctor Angel…” I started, wanting to introduce myself to him, but Widow stopped me.

“Don’t bother; see that scar on his head?” she asked, pointing at his right side.

I had to walk around him to look at it. The right side of his face bore a massive scar, starting from just below his empty eye socket and leading well past where his ear should have been. I delicately lifted some of his mane to see that it was practically covering half of his head.

“He’s practically a walking vegetable,” Black Widow continued. “However, he can still listen to basic commands, eat, piss, and most importantly, fight. All I need to do is point at something and order him to attack. Makes you wonder what kind of zebra he was before, huh?”

“The injury must have caused brain damage,” I noted, looking at the scar with fascination. Was it from a bullet wound?

“I was leading a group looking for slaves when we found him, a couple years back, among the dead. I think he and his buddies were attacked by Red Eye’s army, and the survivors were taken to Fillydelphia,” she shrugged. “Either way, when I realized that he was alive, I had him taken to Cutter and sewed back together. Turned out to be a rather good deal; it’s not often one finds such an obedient servant.”

“Fascinating,” I agreed, turning to her. “You wouldn’t mind if I would examine him later, would you?”

Black Widow chuckled. “Sorry, but I like to have him around in the way he is; I wouldn’t want you to fix him by some miracle. Although…” she paused, looking the zebra up and down. “I might be persuaded to part with him… for a price, of course.”

I smiled. “I will turn to you, then, when I will start getting some caps.”

It was still weird to think of something as simple as bottle caps as currency. When Apple Core explained this to me yesterday, I half thought she was pulling my tail.

“Seeing how you are now the town’s medic, it might not take you too long,” Black Widow smirked, turning to leave.

“Can I ask two quick questions?” I asked and she stopped, nodding. “What’s his name? And why doesn’t he have any weapon?”

Black Widow smirked. “I call him Khan; had to think of something other than ‘Mute Zebra’. And as for a weapon - he has four of them.”

She walked away, her bodyguard following her like a shadow, on four powerful legs.

I sat back next to the desk in the clinic’s basement, my back to the wall, hind legs crossed, and Fluttershy’s statuette on my hoof. I held it on eye level with me. I still felt as if it was accusing me.

“How was I not kind?” I asked her, frowning. I knew, of course, that I was talking with an object, but something was compelling me to speak to it. “Thanks to me, Bulk Build is now back with his wife. A murderer received a just punishment.”

A weak groan sounded from the opposite end of the basement.

“And I ensured Bulk hadn’t murdered anypony,” I added, putting the statuette back on the desk.

I rose and trotted towards the pony strapped to a desk - which to make a room for I had to move most of the objects to the side of the basement (I had so much cleaning ahead of me… maybe I should look into repairing this janitor robot?) - as he began to wake up.

“W-what… where am I?” he gasped, looking around.

“Hello, sweetie,” I told Cutter, standing next to him and smiling. “I’m glad to inform you that you are still alive-”

“What is this!?” Cutter interrupted me, realizing that he was in shackles. “The fuck is this?!”

“Oh, those are chains I borrowed from somewhere,” I said, shrugging. “Amazing how easy it is to find shackles' in slavers town. As I was saying-”

“What the fuck is this!?” he cut me off again, glaring at me with hate and fear. “What are you-”

He trailed off when I levitated a scalped to his throat. “I’m beginning to lose my patience,” I told him coldly. “I am going to explain your current situation now, but if you interrupt me again, I will cut out your vocal cords. Do you understand me?”

Now there was only fear in his eyes. Cutter nodded his head, weakly, mindful of the blade pressed to his neck.

“Splendid!” I said, smiling, and moving the scalped away. “As you might remember, you were attacked by a slave last night. He strangled you, and you passed out due to the loss of oxygen. When I got to the scene, I cast a Stasis spell on you, stopping all your body’s functions. It’s difficult to cast and it’s weak, only lasts for a day, but it was enough to get you here.”

“W-why?” he asked, growing more and more terrified.

“Why, I need a new test subject!” I said, surprised. I thought it was obviou- oh wait. “You know, it surprises me a bit that none of you slavers thought to ask just why I was kicked out of my Stable. Do you want to know why?” Even though Cutter looked as if he didn’t want to know, I bend down to his ear and whispered. “I was banished, after I was convicted of kidnapping sixteen ponies, of casting on them experimental spells and performing surgical experiments, as well as being responsible for the deaths of four of them.”

I pulled away and giggled. “Isn’t this rich? The Overmare threw me away in an act of punishment. Everypony thought I would die on the Outside. But instead, she sent me to the world of endless possibilities for me to continue my research!”

“You… you're fucking crazy!” Cutter finally snapped. “Let me out of here, you crazy bitch! Whip Crack is gonna fucking murder you once he gets here!”

“Considering he buried you today, I doubt he will,” I told him, shattering his hope. “Digging you out was such a pain, but I couldn’t let you suffocate, now could I? Now, hold still,” I told him, lifting a syringe. “I want to examine your blood sample and compare it with mine. I’m curious if living with all the radiation affects pony’s DNA.”

“W-what the hell are you?” Cutter asked me as the needle of the syringe pierced the skin of his foreleg.

I giggled. “I am the one who will discover the Truth of this world,” I told him, once again lowering my voice. “I am Doctor Angel, but from now on, you will address me as the Mistress.”

Footnote: Adventure Started!
Name: Angel
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.:

Strength: 1

Perception: 8

Endurance: 3

Charisma: 8

Intelligence: 10

Agility: 6

Luck: 4