“Last night rough on ya?”

Jimmy grunted to nopony in particular.

“He talked all night like some school-filly, Sal,” she said. “Cheesy as a quesadilla.” She stole up behind him. “The doctor will be in tonight if you have anything else to discuss.” Her hot breath made his mane bristle.

He sighed and slapped a bronze chip on the countertop.

It was the kind of morning when hitting the bar was the first and last thing on his mind. Like a famous pony’s son, the morning was overshadowed by the night preceding it. The sarsaparilla rode his tongue like an exotic dancer. It slipped down his throat but left a sticky residue.

Light glistened off the chip as he held it up.

“How long has it been?” the barmule asked. Sal was her name. The poor devil.

“Going on eleven years,” Jimmy replied.

“Was she really great enough to break your oath?”

He pictured Galena’s lifeless body, flung against chunks of concrete and rebar. So much knowledge undiscussed, so many smiles left ungrinned. Maybe the bloodwings got to her, or worse. He shook his head and downed the last drop of sarsaparilla.

“Yep,” Jimmy said, slamming down the chip. “Get me a jug of the oldest crap you got.” Sal nodded sadly and went to fetch a water-damaged jug off the bottom shelf.

The door bell jingled. “Hi there, welcome to Sal’s.” Jimmy turned. He watched as the young mare went to join her greasy-maned coltfriend at the end of the bar. It wouldn’t last. Jimmy was certain. That was the type of stallion who talked the talk but had four left legs. The moment he caught wind of a challenge, he’d buckle.

“Can you believe that?” Sal asked, rhetorically. “No ‘Hey, how ya doin’?’, ‘Hiya, Sal. How’s tricks?’ Not even a simple, ‘hello.’ I swear, this town’s only friendly when they want something from you.” Sal cleared her throat and held out a hoof. Jimmy looked at the upturned hoof until the flint in his mind made a spark. He tossed a small bag of caps to Sal who cheerfully threw it into her safe. Jimmy put the jug to his lips. “So, tell me about this filly.”

“Huh?” The acrid fumes from the jug teased his nostrils with promises of wearing a lampshade and dancing on tables. Behind that lay the possibility to forget. “Oh. She’s… Well she’s the most interesting creature I’ve ever come across.”

“Yeah?” Sal resigned herself to clean and dry glasses.

“And one of the best flyers I’ve ever seen.” He set the jug on the bar to correctly emphasize his point.

“A pegasus, huh? Was she a Dashite or…”

“Heh. Uh, no no no no. She’s no pegasus.”

Sal made the face somepony makes when they look at a check with three too many zeroes on it. “Oh.”

“Hey, look here. I don’t have to explain myself to y-”

“No, no! Sorry. It’s just a surprise is all. Trust me, if there’s anybody who knows how you feel, not quite fitting in on either side of the family, it’s me. When you know you’ll probably never have foals of your own it changes your outlook.”

“That’s the real shit right there.” The two mules shared a knowing hoof bump. “But, yeah. To be clear, I’m talking about a griffin. The way she cuts through the sky: so smooth.” Sal chuckled rakishly. “Yeah, you know. But it isn’t just her body, Sal. She argues like a squirrel and sticks to her position like a camel in heat.”

“I’ll have to take you at your word for that.”

“You haven’t seen a camel in heat?”

Sal put on her “are you kidding?” face and shook her head.

“Filly, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen that. It’s some scary stuff.”

The bell above the door rang again. Jimmy turned. It was some disheveled, old stallion.

“Hi Tweedy.”

“Hey Sal. I’ll have the usual.”

“Anyway,” Jimmy continued. “Just like mom always said ‘birds of a feather’ right? Well, I finally found a girl as stubborn as me, but I chose my job over spending what little time we have on this planet together.”

“Guy like you? I’m sure you’ll find sompony you like.”

“Not like her, Sal. Not like her.”

The bell rang again. Jimmy ignored it and grabbed the jug once more.

“Hi there, welcome to Sal’s: the best watering hole in the Acre. You all look like you’ve been through the ringer. What can I get you?”

“Beer.”

“Beer.”

“Water.”

“Cognac. Scotch. Whutever you got dat’ll get me hammered as fuck.”

“Whatever you got, make it a virgin. I’m saving myself for marriage! Ahahahahaaa… heh… hmm… Just get me something that’s like, mostly sugar.”

Jimmy held up the jug. “Here’s to you, Galena, wherever you are. The most perfect girl in the whole…” His head slowly scanned right. A familiar face was tearing up before him.

By the time the jug slammed on bar, the couple were already clutching each other.

“Oh em gee, Jimmy I am so sorry I missed our date,” Galena cried.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Oh no! I’m so sorry.”

“Please, don’t be. I’m just glad you’re alive.” He held her at leg’s length. “But look at you all. Galena, your wing! What happened?”

Raze buried his face into his hooves. “Where’s my fuckin’ booze?!”

“And then we’re all gonna fly around and I’m gonna show them some tricks. Ooh, and we can go to one of the movie sets in Applewood and I can show them where they filmed Ring of Destiny. Oh, oh, oh! Dude. We gotta at least show them some of the movies in my collection. Do you think they’ve seen all th-”

“Shut up! Just shut your mouth. Damn, I’m sick of it!” The big Steel Ranger Knight’s speakers crunched like dry cereal.

“You got that right, bro,” the smaller one chimed in.

Yes, Goddesses please, Fate agreed internally. Galena had been prattling on incessantly for the past few hours, scarcely pausing long enough to draw breath. Even the short, raunchy comedy attempt by Raze wasn’t powerful enough to slow her down for long.

Raze glared at the two Steel Rangers with serial killer eyes.

“What?” the bigger one asked, begging for a reason to run out of bullets for his gatling gun. Raze turned his attention back to the road.

Fate looked over at Galena whose head hung like a mother whose first clutch was eaten by wolves. The silence might have been golden, but a teammate's morale had been shot and an important mission was in play. Mustering all the motherliness she could, she crossed the group and put a shaking forehoof on Galena’s back.

Fate had been shaking since the call last night. The contact in the stable was even more confusing than before. Her sentences had been littered with mixed words and memory holes. Fate’s eyes were bloodshot. Luna had yet to visit.

“They don’t really mean that, Lena,” Fate said.

“Oh, yes we do,” retorted the small one.

Fate shot him the “really?” face and kept consoling Galena, even as she double-guessed her own judgement. “Just put it out of your mind. We’re all as excited to free a Stable full of trapped pegasi as you are. Most of us just need to psych ourselves out in a different way than you, that’s all.”

“No, it’s not them,” Galena responded. “It’s just something I’ve had to deal with my whole life. Griffins or… ponies, always tell me to shut up sooner or later. It’s like being me just isn’t socially acceptable. It’s why I started living alone. It’s almost easier to like, be alone so I can at least be myself, instead of having to be somebody else.”

“Well,” Fate choked. She chose her next words carefully as to not accidentally set off a chain reaction in a heavily-seeded minefield. “At least you get along with yourself, right? And what about Raze? Or grandma, or Chaff?”

“Yeah, I guess so. It could be worse, like I could not like my own self. Could you imagine how that would feel?”

Luna and her freedom in the sky galloped to the forefront of her mind. “Yeah, that’d be, uh, crazy.”

“Chaff is such a cool chick. I kinda wish she was with us, but yeah. I guess creepy old Stables are no place for Scribes with almost no weapons training.”

“You’ll see her again. Have Plough set up a time when you could meet. Until then,” Fate bit her lip. “You could talk to me.”

The interesting thing about regret is the things you end up regretting. Fate didn’t regret severing the bonds of her laboratory life, nor did she give credence to guilt heaped upon her by ponies of authority. Prison was a non-issue. When Galena’s eyes lit up, however, the rock in her gut told her it was simultaneously the most right and wrong thing to do at that moment.

The rest of the mercifully short trip was spent with Fate’s ear to Galena’s beak, Steel Ranger soldiers snickering all the while.

With blank stares and ears full of stories about x or y movie star, the group finally stood before the point of interest.

“Starlight Spanner’s Roadside Repair,” exclaimed the sign. A mare the color of fruit punch wearing classic, mechanic coveralls loomed before them, smugly tipping her hat with a wrench. The morning sun peeked just over the hills to the southeast, its light slowly filling the valley below. It was one of those days that seemed to hold its breath, as if time itself were throwing a temper tantrum and refusing to move.

The Steel Rangers stood watch by the garage doors as Fate, Galena, Plough and Raze moved through the attached convenience store. The cash register was missing. Shelves had been picked clean. The only thing filling the room were the sounds they brought with them.

Fate padded to the door leading to the garage. It was slightly ajar.

Click.

Fate swung her head. Plough looked up, bewildered. Fate signed to him in Zebrican tactical sign language, a language in which Plough was fluent. The discovery the hour before was elation itself for Fate, who had been praying for somepony with a tactical ability as useful as that. Plough, unfortunately was stealthy as an exploding cactus. The message was unmistakable.

|>|You. Out. Now.|<|

Plough looked to Galena and Raze for a second and third opinion. Raze sported the same disapproving look as Fate. Galena shrugged. “What can you do?” her face seemed to say.

He backed out to stand with his brothers and sisters. Fate returned her attention to the door.

She followed its outline. No wires. Checked the hinges. No buttons. No pressure plates.

Fate looked to Raze and tapped her ankle. Raze glanced at his PipBuck and shook his head.

Pressing her eye to the crack, she peeked inside. There were shapes, large and black. A light, dim and green flickered from the floor in the gloom.

Fate’s internal breath reminded her of times spent in the water tank, attached to a rebreather. Needles. Straps. So cold. So loud.

The door creaked open, screaming after years of neglect. Fate snuck inside, followed silently by Galena and Raze. She leaned up against the rear of an old cart and peeked around the corner. The light seemed brighter with her eyes adjusting to the darkness. A kind of glowing green fog hovered above the concrete floor in between the two, room-hogging carts.

She motioned for Raze. He nodded and glided to the center of the room, approaching the glowing fog with not just a little apprehension. After blowing dust from the floor he waved them over.

The terminal lay in a shallow depression. A broken concrete slab kept it company nearby.

WELCOME TO STABLE-TEC(R) INDUSTRIES TERMINAL

PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD, SUGAR CUBE

“She said the password was ‘feathers,’” Fate whispered.

Raze pawed at the cloud controls.

PASSWORD NOT RECOGNIZED

12 HOURS REMAINING BEFORE NEXT LOGIN ATTEMPT

Raze looked at the two girls for help. Fate held up a hoof and shook her head. Suddenly visions of pegasi being locked up and dying flooded her mind. Why had they even come out here? Her heart started racing.

Galena scratched her chin, leaned over and put her head on Raze’s shoulder. Whispers passed between the two. Raze twiddled with the controls again, but this time a screenfull of symbols and piecemeal words met her gaze.

Galena chuckled and pointed out the obvious.

0xFA48 .’@:F347H3R$

Raze typed in the “1337-ified” password. Apparently the original programmer had a bit of a sophomoric sense of humor. Within seconds a list of options appeared on the screen.

WELCOME TO STABLE AW-10

1. OPEN OUTER DOORS

2. CONTACT OVERSEER

3. PLAY SNAKE

Overseer? thought Fate. I thought they were all overmares.

Raze chose option three.

“W-what?!” Fate whisper-screamed. “What in Equestria do you think you’re doing? There are ponies- ah, pegasi in there in danger and you’re-”

She slapped his hooves away, ending the game. Raze snickered while Galena tried to hold in her own.

“Oh, g- you too?”

PLAY AGAIN?

(Y/N)

A line once again slithered across the screen. Galena couldn’t hide her giggle any longer. Fate felt her hoof fly up from the floor and smack across Raze’s face.

It was Galena’s turn to whisper-scream. “Oh my gosh, Fate! What the Hell?”

“Listen, you two. This is serious. This thing hasn’t been opened in over a hundred years. There are ponies trapped in there. How could you not take this seriously?”

Raze groaned. “Fascist much? Just because I mock sumfin’ does not mean I don’t take it seriously.”

"Just get the door open."

The moment Raze chose the first option there rang a distant clang. The ground shook. Several bangs were followed by a deafening, ratcheting sound.

Galena rushed to the garage door chain to let some much-needed morning light into the room. The door added a rusty rattle as it coiled up. The sun unrolled its crackled parchment color into the room. Smudges of cleanliness illustrated the trio’s disturbances in the centuries-old dust.

The two tarpaulin-covered wagons surrounding them were pushed into the rafters by massive, hydraulic jacks. As the jacks locked into place, the floors underneath them sunk into gradient steps, revealing two tunnels.

The breaches yawned cool air, tickling Fate’s legs and sending shivers across her spine. She scanned the faces of her companions. All were dumbstruck. Plough wore a particularly unhelpful look, as if he was waiting for a punchline that had already come, but found it unfunny enough to be part of the build up.

Catching on, Fate turned her attention to the armored Steel Rangers. “You all stay put,” she ordered, rummaging through her saddlebags. She pulled out a headlamp and attached it to her head. “I want to make sure we get this done with as few complications as possible.”

“You mean a small body count,” Trueheart translated. Fate squinted at his expressionless mask. “That’s agreeable. Take a breather everypony.” He turned to Fate. “If we hear anything ugly-”

“You won’t.”

“If we do, we’ll be galloping in. Be sure to find cover. Under a table, back to a wall. Doesn’t matter. Just give us the room we need to do what we do.”

Hanging her head, she motioned for her unarmored companions to follow her as she stole down the steps.

Both staircases led to the same roughly-hewn room. The flickering lights and cool dampness of the cave walls mobbed her with memories of Hairerion Trot jumping over pits of spikes and carefully avoiding “devices of such lethal cunning.” Galena must have thought something quite similar.

“Omigosh, I can’t even tell you how cool th-”

A chorus of “sh” buried her. Fate could hear a tone reverberating from deep within the tunnel. Cocking her head, she lead the group into a careful trot.

The tunnel curved around, branched off and reconnected several times, but always led deeper into the mountain.

The air became thick. An unhealthy fog rose from the ground. From where? Rocks seemed to sublime.

The tone grew more clear. Less reverberation. More distinct.

A chill wind spirited through them. Science class, Fate reminded herself. Hot and cold air meeting. Simple. But the cave’s whispering voices proved stronger.

Hesitation in the steps. Irregular breathing. The weight of the mountain pressed down against the naked stone ceiling.

She turned and stopped.

A cavernous room. Columns of sickly mist filtered in from unseen exhausts near the ceiling. A familiar green light pulsated on the far wall of the room. With her headlamp she could only make out small sections of the room at a time, but each time the green light flashed, it flashed the same picture. With each pulse the sight grew in its clarity and imposing depth.

The light showed a massive cog. Emblazoned on its front was the jewel it protected.

AW-10.

You’re doing the right thing, she told herself. Even if some intel was trash, these pegasi need space to fly. This isn’t the lab. This is somepony else’s stable. Oh, Celestia, sister of mercy, may your light shine through me this day. Luna, sister of the night, give me the courage to wade through this darkness.

Raze flapped across the room. He cut a dashing figure against the sickly light. For a moment Fate was a normal pony, with normal pony problems, and normal pony desires. Power, control, adoration.

She shook her head. Helper. Servant. Friend. These words were meant to define her. Not saint, savior or heroine.

“Yo, Fate,” Raze called out. “C’mere.”

She stared at his silhouette. What other words could be used to define her?

“Yoohoo, Fatie-pie?”

“Oh, right,” she mumbled as she hastened over. “What is-?” The words caught in her throat as she heard the muffled voices. Anger and fear bubbled behind the pressure cooker door. “Raze, get this door open, now. Everypony else get ready! Remember, there are a lot of civilians on their way out! Prepare for anything!”

Galena’s rifle whirred. Raze pawed at the cloud terminal. Fate slunk against the wall, rifle ready. Plough stood at the door, primed to pounce.

The time was ripe.

“Uh, Fate,” said Raze, hesitating. The gnawing at Fate’s gut stopped as her stomach dropped. “It says we need unicorn magic to complete the unlocking phase. What do you wanna do?”

“Shit,” she spat. The stone wall chilled the back of her head as she knocked against it. “This doesn’t make even the slightest, fucking sense! It’s full of pegasi. What the Hell was wrong with those twisted, stable-building bastards?” She paused for a crushing sigh. “Well, the Rangers can radio out. I’ll get somepony here to try to cast something against th-”

A soft clink. The room flooded with red light, then darkness, alternating. An alarm bell. A buzzer on repeat.

Clunk after clunk charged from the door. More steam hissed into the room. The air turned oil-rich and sight-poor.

A huge, metal arm fell into place. Plough dove, narrowly escaping.

The great cog shot out like a big bottle cap. Fate saw struggle behind it. Lights flashed. Screams full of fear. Maybe anger. She smelled citrus.

The arm caught the cog and rolled it away in a blink.

Floodlights switched on, blinding them, then failed. Bolts of blue light shot over their heads, scorching the walls behind.

Pegasi tore through the hole, vision only for the tunnel. A white one tripped. She fluttered to the air. A blue light struck her. There was a flash. Oranges fell to the floor.

Dizzied at the sight, Fate trained her gun on a flashing blue horn. The unicorn shook. Electricity arced from her body. Galena’s work.

Switch targets. Fire. Breathe. Switch. Fire. Breathe.

An explosion set her world turning. Her ears whistled. The air reeked of pie, but she tasted metal.

Detritus clung to her face as she struggled to stand.

The floodlights had returned. Fate scanned the floor for her rifle. She spotted the stock. A pretty face stared up at her from the gun’s bolt handle. Smoke rose from beneath it.

Fate shook. The harsh light lent a clinical surreality to it all. Reaching out with telekinesis, she pulled up her gun. The face and attached neck flipped, landing in the dirt. The other side revealed a cavity, filled only with bits of smoldering dirt from the floor.

Backing away, a plume of dust erupted near her hoof. Her gaze shot up. A pegasus took aim and fired again.

Her backside rocked, knocking her to the ground. The firey pain of the wound blazed up her flank. She grit her teeth as she watched the pegasus convulse with an electric current.

Galena glided over to her. “Ohmigosh! Are you hurt?” Galena sounded muffled like she was trying to talk through the wall of a house.

“Um, uh…” Fate said, tentatively. She looked down at her wound. “Oh no.”

Galena followed her line of sight and went wide-eyed. “Fate, I didn’t kn-”

“Do you have anything to cover it up? Anything at all?

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

“Please.” Heat from tears rolled down her cheek.

“Okay, Fate. I’ll keep your secret, but we need to get you to somebody who can fix you up, pronto.” Galena cleaned and covered the wound as best she could using strips from her coveralls. With great care, she helped Fate up before Raze joined them.

“Fuckin’ A!” he exclaimed. “Did you fuckin’ see dat? Da fuckin’ craziest fuckin’ ting I ever saw! Dat pony was turned into fuckin’ oranges! And da gunshots, an’ whut da fuck was dat explosion, Lena?”

“I hit something. I have no idea. I’m so, so, so, so sorry. Sniff. I didn’t mean for… for you know…” She waved her claws around at the floor.

“I know, Lena. It’s okay, it’s okay.” He wrapped her in a fetlock. “How about you? ¿Estás bien, potranca?” he asked.

“What?” Fate asked.

“Little filly. Whut, you haven’t learned any San Palomino? In dis town?”

“I’ll be okay. Let’s just hurry up and get in there before those walking tanks show up to make more of a mess.”

“Don’t know if dat’s possible.” Raze waved his hoof around. “Also, don’t you tink dat’s a bad idea? I don’t tink we can handle deez guys by ourselves.”

“We have to. Where’s Plough?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t seen him since da door opened.”

Fate reached up and wiped her tears away on a leg. Sticky. Tears weren’t meant to be sticky.

She looked down on her leg and then looked herself over. Blood. Her barding was covered in it and her coat was matted with it. Unidentifiable pieces of pink, white and grey ornamented her hair. Germs, viruses and who knows what else were surely finding ways to slither into and infect her body. She gagged.

Celestia, sister of mercy, please watch my health through this ordeal. She took a step and added, And please protect the good ponies down here.

The two friends helped Fate over a meal fit for a fairy tale monster. Mounds of carrots, cabbages and oranges mingled with limbs and bits of burning flesh. Tripping twice, they made it through the great door and up a small flight of metal steps to a bent landing. Whatever the explosion was, it took a large chunk of the metal floor and greenish concrete wall with it.

The group past the blown-out wall and hurried down another flight of steps, this time made of concrete. Sounds of a great commotion bounced around the stairwell. Plough stood at the base of the stairs, clinging to the shadows.

|>|Enemy left, behind seat wall. Friend right, behind barrel. Hurry.|<|

Fate nearly relayed the message when thuds grew behind them.

“Status.” Truheart’s speakers could scarcely be heard over the gunfight next door.

Fate bit her lip. Her legs shook and she grew nauseous with pain and blood loss. She cursed ever having brought the Steel Rangers into this. Sighing, she closed her eyes. “Enemies to the left, behind a makeshift barrier. Friendlies right. Make it count, and be careful.”

“Right.”

The tin can titans shouldered through to the other room. A deafening ratchet of the goddesses spun. Fate peeked around the corner. Pieces of table and chair danced like confetti in the air. The four non-brothers looked at each-other for meaning, but only saw the same nervous awe.

They surreptitiously filtered into the next room. The crackle of fire reflected off the high, concrete walls of the atrium. Fate limped towards the friendlies, an eye watching for movement behind the smoking remains of the barricade. Chunky smears behind the barricade alleviated her fears, but toyed with her gag reflex.

Behind the barrels and into a side room ponies began to stand up, expressions slack. “No sudden movements,” Fate ordered. “We’re here to help, but we-”

Another alarm. Red lights. Fate scanned the room for a reason. The P.A. system got to it first.

“Fire detected in atrium. Engaging counter-measure one.”

The barricade sizzled in the resulting shower. Cleansing waters chilled Fate. Thank the Goddesses for small miracles. She went on. “For your own safety, we need your cooperation.”

“Over here.” The voice whispering from the barrels was fragile. Fate moved in. A unicorn in blue barding straining to breathe lay on the floor. She coughed wetly. “Chief Whitherspike, stable security. Listen, you gotta get to the overmare’s office to turn the fire cycle off before we all die in here.”

The P.A. butted in, again. “Engaging counter measure two.” Tiny white flakes snowed from unknown vents in the ceiling. The flakes reeked of toxic sterility.

“The office is voice-locked. Get me up those steps. I can get you in, if I can hold out that long.” Fate swore she heard a crunch in the following cough.

Fate shook her head. There had to be a better way than moving this poor mare, right? Her heart told her there wasn’t. It was like learning there was no pony who climbs down chimneys to bring you presents. “Plough. Trueheart.” She motioned them over. They carefully hoisted her onto Plough’s ample back and trudged up the stairs, Galena, Raze and several Knights staying behind to guard the atrium.

After a short climb and trip across a catwalk, they came to a heavy door. “Restricted Access” it proclaimed. Plough moved closer to the control panel. The unicorn’s head lolled unconsciously against his side. She didn’t seem able to raise her head, let alone enter a voice command.

Against all odds, the unicorn tipped her head up.

“Chief Whitherspike. Badge double-o one.”

“Enter password,” the door rudely demanded.

The unicorn coughed again. Fate saw her spit a piece of something gelatinous. She cleared her throat and began to sing. Her voice was crystalline.

There was a loud clunk. The door slid open. Trueheart rushed in, his knights following.

“On the ground! On the ground! Face down!”

The three unicorns kept their sights.

“Out of my office!” the spectacled overmare demanded. She breathed deeply and quickly, her pistol at head-height.

“You need to turn off the fire system,” Fate yelled, stumbling into the room.

The overmare traced her sights to Fate. “I don’t have to do anything. Do you realize what you’ve done, opening up the stable like you did?”

“You mean freeing ponies?”

“Freeing? What do you think this is, a prison? We were near a breakthrough before you hulking buffoons whipped the patients into a riotous frenzy, not to mention you breaking the contaminant ward on the outer door. Thank you so much for that!”

“You can still save some of them. Release the stable from lock-down and we can all j-”

“No! No.” A crazed look stole the overmare’s eyes. “I think you have done enough damage. If you’re what the outside has to offer, I think I’ll try my chances with the next world.” With that, she dropped her gun and began typing furiously at a terminal.

“Step away from the terminal!” Trueheart ordered. Fate’s heart raced. “Last chance.” There has to be…

A click and pop accompanied the movement. Fate blinked as wet heat massaged her body.

She cupped her ears. A gatling gun tore through the remaining guards. Unidentifiable pieces exploded in different directions, decorating the gray walls in a grisly mural.

Fate found herself hobbling to the terminal before her breath could play catch-up. The screen was cracked and looked as if a spider had taken up residence in its upper-left corner. Its flickering words were still legible.

Mouth agape, Fate looked down at the shining mass beside her. Broken ribs reached out to ensnare; quivering, fatty tissue threatened to hug her hoof. She pulled the shaking hoof up to the desk and clenched her eyes shut.

Some ponies could handle change. Ponies like Fate made change their lifelong ambition. Some ponies could not. The overmare’s entire life had been changed at the flip of a switch, and she had been willing to kill every stallion, mare and foal in the stable because of her own discomfort. Now Fate stood in her juices and prayed, Goddesses, please tell me what to feel.

Her eyes opened, vision blurry. The sight was the same. An unspoiled suit floated out of her saddlebag. It made short work of cleaning off the terminal monitor.

Backing out of several menus, Fate located the security parameters and went to work unlocking every door, disengaging every security protocol and of course turning off the fire counter-measures.

Slipping once walking from the desk, she found the overmare’s head and neck lying perfectly still near the door. A leg held onto them by only the thinnest piece of hide. Her face made her look as if she were being woken up early on her day off by a noisy neighbor. Whitherspike lay in the doorway, her gaze locked in a reciprocal glare.

The other members of her party stared, awaiting her next move. The room was quiet. Fate thought she heard a gurgle, until she noticed Galena’s quick-tempo’d breath.

The griffin’s eyes shot from one corner to the next.

“Galena?” Fate offered. No response. She put her hoof on her feathered chest. “Galena.”

“Huh? What?”

“You okay?”

“Wha-? Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” she lied, shaking her head.

Fate patted her feathers once more for good measure. Stepping over Chief Whitherspike’s body, she trudged across the walkway, struggling to stay up.

The rest of the stable was a grab bag of fears, disappointment and relief. The Steel Rangers ordered themselves to the lower levels to “scan for any personnel left behind.” No doubt they planned on relieving the stable of many technological treasures. At least Truheart is with them, she told herself. The Paladin did tend to have a soothing authority about him.

The medical center was massive, eating up the majority of the stable’s space. Much of the medical center had been fashioned into miniature rooms. No doubt they were intended to afford the patients more privacy during their convalescence. Their truth was obvious to Fate, though. They were cells.

Being too infirmed to walk, let alone fly, her contact was easy enough to spot. “Hey!” she yelled, waving them down. “Hey! Hey! I told those stupid parents years ago that we should have fixed that leak, and now you’re back to rub it in?!”

A little filly popped up from her bedside and stroked her shoulders. “It’s okay, mommy. These are the ponies who are here to rescue us.” She faced the group, her eyes lingering on Fate’s quickly drying barding. “That is why you’re here, isn’t it? To let us outside?”

“That’s right, little one,” Fate replied, her voice shaky. “Is she … alright?” The filly fished a clipboard from a nearby desk and tossed it to Fate. Upon reading, the contact’s behavior became clear.

Name: Hop, Bunny

Sex: F

Diagnosis: Hoofington’s Disease

The disjointed sentences, the confusing memories, the constant stream of sexual innuendo; they all made sense.

Fate smiled at the filly as she leaned against the door jam. She thought she heard somepony yell her name in the distance as she slumped to the floor.

Movement. Echoes. The cave?

“...all da files, yeah. Didn’t want to leave any stone unturned, y’know? Hey back dere. Your eyes still closed?”

A small voice squeaked out the words, “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Wind. The heat wave must have broken, Fate decided.

“You’d tink she’d tell us sumfin’ like dis, but nope. Not even me.”

An imagined cold sweat crept across Fate’s body.

“Can you, like, please just keep it to yourself? I didn’t want to, like, break her trust, but after she just blacked out like that…”

Her mind pleaded her legs to move. There had to be a way to not overhear this conversation. Stop talking. Run away. Do something.

“You did da right ting, Lena. I don’t like she kept it secret. Easy to understand why, dough.”

“I’m just happy the healing potions are helping. I guess didn’t know what to expect.”

“The whole day has been filled with the unexpected,” Trueheart added. His voice rumbled her stomach. Was he carrying her? “Let’s keep it moving. I don’t know about any of you, but I’m ready for a drink.”

Celestia bless this pony.

Jimmy and Galena chatted on the couch. The griffin looked positively silly, reclining her massive bulk against her new beau. One glance to Jimmy’s grinning face proved he didn’t mind.

Images that were never her’s wafted through Fate’s mind as she watched the couple. Posters of the happy, Equestrian family decorated her thoughts as memories of celluloid danced in the glow of a naked sun. As tired as the old, romantic tropes from those movies were, Fate couldn’t help but feel her own desires for them grow.

“Thank you for putting us up, Jimmy,” said Trueheart from the mini-kitchen. He took another swig from the bottle. “It really helps, especially in our … urp ... condition.”

“Yeah bro,” nodded Raze. “I don’t even remember da last time I slept inna honest-to-Celestia hotel room.”

Jimmy shook his toothy smile. “Don’t even mention it. You all deserve it, with all you’ve been through. Besides, it gives me time to spend with all my new friends.” He squeezed a chirp out of Galena who retaliated mercilessly with taloned tickles to his ribcage.

“I’d like to thank everyp-,” Fate started in. “Everybody here for all your help today. It’s been… harrowing to say the least.” Fate watched Raze withdraw from the room to stand on the balcony, sliding shut the makeshift, glass door behind him. “Thank you all for seeing me through this crazy errand. For saving my life and … not making as big a deal about my…” She swallowed her nerves. “My condition.”

Galena shot up and leaned over, resting a hulking claw on Fate’s shoulders. “Hey. We’re friends now, right? Friends have to be, like accepting and junk. I mean, look at me. I’m a griffin without a flock. I’m about as ostracised as you can get, but look. I have friends who care. I even got me a studmuffin.” A talon poked at Jimmy’s ribs for extra impact. He seized her again, forcing a squeaking giggle from her beak.

A motherly smirk stretched over Fate’s face for a moment before a look of concern took its place as she stared through the balcony door. Raze leaned over the railing. He stared over the city. What he expected to see, Fate could only speculate. His posture told of a stallion in waiting. Fresh air, Fate decided. He wanted to clear the air.

“Some of us just like the prospect of helping ponies,” Trueheart unknowingly interrupted. “My brothers and sisters may not show it all the time, but we really want peace and stability in the region as much as, if not more so than you do.”

“That’s great, Paladin,” Fate muttered. “It truly is. Could you hang on to that thought for a bit while I go take care of something?”

Trueheart had hardly mouthed “sure” before she had shut the door behind her.

“Brr. Little chilly out here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Raze’s voice was an unstable alloy of relief and reluctance.

“Hey. Thanks for helping to save me.”

“Yeah, well. Dat’s how friends are supposed to treat each udder, ruyt?” The sarcasm was not wasted on Fate.

“Right. Right.” Fate scanned the streets for the right words, or some dangerous distraction to save her from this awkward conversation. Alas, it was a quiet evening in the Acre. The most excitement the streets held below were two dash fiends arguing over which direction to stumble. Or perhaps they were discussing the mysteries of the universe. It was always difficult to tell with dash fiends.

“Well...” The air hung too dense for Fate. She backed away and reached for the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Was there really a meaning to this? Avoiding the topic would have been so much more simple. “Why do you care?” And why did he? What was so different about him from the others in the group?

“We risked our lives for your fool’s errand. You got shot. Whut if sumfin’ worse happened to you? Don’t you tink it might have helped us to know you were a robot?”

“You son of a bitch. I am not a robot.”

“Could’a fooled me wit all that milk sludge pouring outta you.”

“And that makes me a machine? There are plenty of ponies with weird blood colors because of radiation.”

“Not as weird as that gallon of jizz your synthetic heart pumps everyday.”

He caught a hook to the nose. Fate watched in almost slow motion as blood shot out of his nostrils and gleamed in the twilight, only to fall on the dash fiends stories below. Their argument grew more impassioned, their gesticulations even more dramatic.

Raze’s glare was sharp enough to slice through raw gristle. Fate steeled herself as best she could before feeling the pressure around her eyes. No, she thought. Not here. Not in the open.

She strode inside, taking care to quietly close the door. Her vision began to blur as the room spun.

“Fate, is everything okay?” asked Plough. There was genuine concern to his voice. It was obvious he saw what she did.

“Not right now, please.” Though her voice carried calm volume and texture, its jittering cadence sold her out.

She headed for the bathroom, hoping the little room would afford her some privacy.

“No, Fate! Don’t-”

But it was too late. The bathroom was already in use with two moaning masses, writhing over the sink.

“Oh. My. I’m so sorry,” she stammered.

“You mind closing the…?” Jimmy asked, keeping his cool.

“Uh, oh yeah. Sorry.”

The door slammed shut, Fate leaning against it. Her eyes wide open now, she didn’t know whether to laugh or keep crying. Plough had obviously chosen the former, the big stallion covering his mouth with both hooves and quietly snorting.

After brushing her neck and chest, Fate walked to the other room as stately as a flamingo missing a foot. “Goodnight, Plough.”

“Goodnight, Fate. Feel better.”

The room glowed with the dim colors of twilight. Luna’s security blanket. A bit of privacy gave Fate the room to accept her feelings.

Memories breezed by on a hidden conveyor. Galena’s incessant yapping. Opening the stable caverns. Images of friends long gone, the premium for breaking a stable’s seal. Oranges. The mural.

Their lives would be better for it, right? The ones who survived, anyway. Would they heal and give back to the world that so took from them, or would they become like her, a slave gnawing at the shackles of the past? Did any of it matter in the end?

She let herself fall on the bed. The mattress was stiff, but Fate didn’t mind. A pillow squished in her grasp as she fell to her side. Her tears plopped gently on the sheets. Hushed sounds of a stuffy nose bounced around the room.

“Fate?” asked a soft voice. “Iss that you?”

No privacy. There was no place not filled with ponies, be they friends or not.

“Yes, Trueheart. It’s me.”

“The day finally catching up (urp) to you?”

“I..” she mouthed, her voice failing her. Fate had a strong will and it was only a moment before she bullied her reluctant tongue into a real statement. “Tell me I’m good. Tell me I’m not a monster.”

Trueheart stumbled to his feet from his spot on the floor. He sat next to her on the bed, careful to give her some space. Fate reached out to him with her mind, longing for a touch of reassurance. None came. She instead found herself sprayed with words burning with alcohol. “Listen Fate. Nopony can predict the future. We all make choices based on the … um what’s the word, uh … knowledge, from the knowledge we built from the past. We have this … vast map where we’ve been, but that doesn’t mean we know for certain where we’re going when we take that step forward into the breach between now and when we breathe our last.”

“You can’t know the future.” It was an old lesson Fate had heard many times. It was only now she realized it was a point at which her mind’s comprehension was far beyond that of her heart.

Tinny voices spoke through the door from Plough’s PipBuck.

“I know that may not help the feeling,” Trueheart continued. “But, that’s the only lesson I have on this subject. I wish it helped more, Fate.” He fumbled with his locket. “I really do.”

“Trueheart.” Her mouth found it difficult to funnel the thoughts her mind was creating. “Thank you, Trueheart.” She stroked his leg with a hoof.

“As far as you being a monster, I don’t see it. You really do seem to want to help. If our groups weren’t so dead-set against each-other things might be different. And if you’re worried about your not-so-average blood type, don’t be. You know Plough’s is an extremely volatile acid?”

“W-what? No way.”

He nodded. “We all have our little secrets, Fate. That’s what makes life so interesting.”

The door burst open. “You guys gotta come hear this!” said Raze, a smile on his face.

After taking a moment to dry her eyes, Fate followed Trueheart into the other room. Jimmy was again lounging on the couch, awash in afterglow, but this time Galena hunched excitedly over Plough’s PipBuck. Everypony seemed in brighter spirits.

“Dude! Dude! C’mere and listen to this! It’s freaking crazy!”

Fate tilted her head, not knowing what to expect.

The voice of a basso profundo woofed out of the tiny speaker. “Uh, hi? Yeah, uh. My name is, uh, Chocolate Thunder. And I was also in that first push when the door opened.”

“Ooh, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. It must’ve been horrible.”

“It was … the most terrifying thing I’ve ever been through in my life. It still doesn’t seem real."

"Well, I certainly won't ask you to relive something as terrible as that. What we surface dwellers are more interested in is your story. How does it feel to have lived your whole life as a pegasus underground only to be freed now?"

"How do I even begin? Today has been the worst and best day any of us has ever experienced. We lost lifelong friends, but gained things none of us had ever dreamed possible. How do I even describe what it's like to touch the clouds? We haven't even felt wind before. It's completely indescribable."

“I hear you’ve also been hit with some less than savory attitudes by some of the townsponies. Did you expect this kind of prejudice out here?”

“I think you might be blowing that out of proportion. Sure we’ve been mistaken for members of the Enclave, which we gather is a bad thing. But ponies around here are more open and welcoming than you give them credit for. The entire experience is surprising.”

"Oh, well that’s good to hear. Are you listening, Celestia’s Acre? Openness and kindness, these are the things we need more of. While you’re at it throw some generosity on that pile. I’m sure these ponies would be quite thankful. Come on, they’ve had to endure years of torment at the hooves of ‘doctors’, the least we can do is find them a little food and shelter.”

“Thank you so much.”

“It’s just common courtesy. The world is harsh enough. We don’t need ponies fighting over it. One last thing, now. If they’re listening, what do you have to say to the ponies who got you out of that hole?"

“I know it might’ve seemed terrible at the time, and we did … lose a lot of friends today … excuse me.”

“Take your time, take your time. There’s no pressure here.”

Sounds of tissues and noses hammered the little speaker before the pegasus got back to the microphone, slightly more together than before. “But you did us all a service. I don’t think you’ll ever know the full extent. Excuse me, but I think I have to be done now. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Do what you need to do. We’ll just see how our- What’s that? Really? Well, folks it seems as if our good mayor Flare has offered up some housing for the refugees. What do you all have to say to that?”

Cheering crackled from the speakers causing a mess of white noise to flood the room. Raze, rolling his eyes in disgust at the mention of the Fire Stone who shot his friend, motioned Fate to the other room. Fate hesitated, but followed.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” he said. “It just took me by surprise is all and wit all dat stuff about you being a test subject and having to escape your-”

“No. I’m sorry, too. Is your nose alright?”

“Heh. Yeah, it’s fine. You sure can dish it out, dough. But really, I don’t know whut I was tinkin’. I mean, I wasn’t tinkin’. It’s just da past few weeks have been Hell for me and I don’t know how to deal, y’know?”

“Yeah. I understand.”

Raze sat on the bed, putting his head in his hooves. “So you walked in on Lena and dat udder guy?”

“Oh jeez.”

“Where were dey, uh … you know?”

“Sink.”

Raze looked up at her in exasperation. “Well, shit. How am I supposed to brush my teeth, now?!”

Author's Notes:

Ay yi yi, what a chapter to write. If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading!

This story is based on Kkat’s strange and wonderful, Fallout: Equestria. If you haven’t already, please do so. Here’s the link: Equestria Daily

If you’d like to read more Fallout Equestria Side Stories, take a look at: Fallout Equestria Side Stories post on Equestria Daily and the Fallout Equestria Side Stories thread on Ponychan

Also, check out the FO:E groups on FiMFiction: 1, 2, 3 and the subreddits here and here.

Thank you also to Arcane Scroll for the excellent site: Fallout: Equestria Resource. There is a chat function on that site, come say “hello.”