“...has shown no signs of change since the introduction of the chemical. Magical theory dictates some metamorphosis should have occurred at least three hours after exposure. Huh. I dunno. Maybe it's just my lack of sleep, but I'm not entirely sure protein-rich lettuce is in the cards. Ah, well I think deserve a little relaxation before today's test. Now, where's that checklist?”

Marrow's pieced-together recording of the alicorn's mad ramblings stopped.

The test chamber was a mess. Marrow had taken up residence next to his mysterious subject. He ate in the test chamber. He slept in the test chamber. Other scribes were joking that he would die in the test chamber. He could not be torn away from any of his tests, theories, hypotheses, or observations for any reason save two, and although his trips to the facilities were infrequent, his multiple-hour exercise sessions became more and more prevalent. “It keeps me focused,” he would eventually have to explain to Elder Gazpacho, and the old stallion (knowing full well the passions that drive the young) recognized the truth in in the statement and ordered Marrow to take up sparring again, “at least for the time being.”

Something squished beneath his hoof. “Damn it!” he said, as he tried halfheartedly to wipe last night's food from his hoof. He finished his little jaunt over to the big cork-board which stood sentry on the side of the chamber furthest from the door. The poor board had been peppered with seemingly scattershot scrawlings, printouts of official files and maps all bound together with multi-colored string and tacks like some sick, sadistic form of modern art. He focused on the fully-formed quote until his eyes were carried off on a purple string to a long printout from the pony resources division of the old Ministry of Arcane Sciences which obliquely noted the suburb of Fetlock as a point of interest. He followed the turquoise string to its termination at a red pushpin sticking out of the far end of a map of the greater Manehatten area.

He kicked a steel medical tray across the room where it made a terrible racket, spilling two-day-old breakfast and coffee all over the floor. How does this all tie together, he mused. For all the effort he had put into deciphering the alicorn's quotes, pouring over mostly useless documents and the resulting collage of ancient clues they made together, Marrow still had very little to go on, not that he would be able to act on any tips if he had them, considering his limited resources and the closest known location for possible clues being thousands of miles away. “What am I missing?” he asked a photograph of the ministry mare, Twilight Sparkle. “What kind of power did you have to keep so secret? An entire Ministry of Image ad campaign? Really?” He massaged the space between his eyes and continued tracing the strands of yarn adorning his board, hoping to come across something he had missed.

Two soft tones rose and fell before the door ratcheted open. Marrow could hear the eight hooves shuffling over wantonly strewn papers and ticking on the steel beneath, but he paid them no mind. He heard the door shut, but kept studying the connections.

“High-Scribe Marrow?” called out a tiny voice, reverberating throughout the massive chamber.

“What is it, Rewire?”

“Head Paladin Pozole is here to see you, sir.” Marrow grimaced at the thought. He knew that the paladin had come to lord his position over him again, a position Marrow knew was stolen from him after he had the accident. This was sure to be bad news. “ ... and I brought you your breakfast.” Marrow's mouth dropped open as he turned his head to look at his alarm clock. I could have sworn it was only twenty-one-hundred hours, he thought. What happened to the time? His look of shock sunk into the knitted brow of concern. He had to prepare for his technology search-party he was leading the following day. Marrow looked around for his saddlebags in the disaster and, upon finding them, proceeded to toss piece after piece of equipment into them.

“Well, time flies, I guess,” he said, stuffing a sachet of Rad-Away into one of his bags.

“Marrow, time might be flying by for you while you 'probe' your filly-friend in the Elder's basement,” Pozole said as he nonchalantly strutted past tables of notes, microscopes and test tubes. He stopped a few steps behind the scribe, picking up a clipbord of test results to peruse. He quickly tired of it, letting it fall on the floor with a clatter. “But it's going to be up if the Elder Council doesn't start seeing any results. And soon.”

Marrow turned to glare at Pozole. He had always hated that paladin. The way he pranced about, showing off his golden mane to the way he used his father as a shield against those who would speak out against him, Marrow hated him for it all. Not the least annoying was Pozole's uncanny ability to climb the ranks so quickly to become head paladin of the chapter, no doubt due in no small part to his parents' positions as elders. “Do you have a good reason you're here, Head Paladin, or have you just come to make superfluous threats at me while I pack? I do have an expedition to head tomorrow.” The off-white pony began tossing things into a bag.

“Do you?” Pozole asked, his eyebrows raising in mock surprise. “Well, I should probably send a courier out to Paladin Trueheart to ask him to politely return because High Scribe Marrow wants to play Daring Do in the wasteland.” He chortled, watching Marrow's glare turn into a squint. “What, you didn't hear? The Elder wants you off of the mission. He didn't give a reason, not that he needed to, of course.” As the Head Paladin spoke, Marrow devised new methods of vivisection he intended to use on him. I suppose you'd have to act like that if you could get your ass handed to you by a crippled scribe, Marrow secretly thought, bringing a sneering grin to his face. He thought he heard a laugh, but shrugged and dismissed the thought. “No, you can stay here and play with the toys you have already.” Pozole motioned with his head to the form on the operating table. “No matter how … depraved your play.”

The bay stallion with the flowing, gold mane trampled through the morass of useless papers and experimental debris with his head held high. “Also, Marrow,” Pozole said without turning his head or slowing. “Please do the right thing and clean your room. Theeeeeere's a good colt.”

Marrow stared at the closed chamber door and flicked his tail once or twice. Rewire dared not stir the stew in which Pozole had left Marrow, so he kept his unspoken discussion to himself.

“That … pony,” said Marrow, unable to find an adequate diatribe. “Take me off of the expedition, what the fuck was he thinking? Trueheart's group couldn't find tech if it were biting their docks.”

“Sir,” Rewire offered. “They're only going to Balk. You don't really think they'll find much do-”

“Who the hell do you think gave the suggestion to dispatch a team to Balk? We're getting all sorts of power readings and low-level transmissions emanating from that dung-heap of a town. What? That doesn't seem strange to you?”

“Well, of course, sir I was just saying-”

“Rewire, if you don't have anything else important to say, you may leave.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Enjoy your breakfast, High Scribe.”

Marrow just grunted as the apprentice made his way out of the chamber. The scribe looked over his breakfast. “Oh, thank Celestia, coffee,” he sighed, grabbing the steel mug sipping its steaming contents. It might have tasted like the ashes of burnt fabric, but his body was already responding to the well-known flavor, making him more alert. He noticed a newly carved bead sitting next to the plate on the tray Rewire had brought in. Marrow scooped it up with his free hoof. On it, in tiny and intricate detail, was a relief of the alicorn's head with cartoonish lines emanating from her open mouth. Scribe Ohms was quite the master at carving these little trinkets. “Huh. Glad he finished it.” Marrow set his coffee down for the time being and deftly added the new bead to the rest of its family, wrapping his body in success.

He picked up the coffee once more and, taking a noisy sip, hobbled over to the operating table.

“Maybe I should put this in an IV for you … perk you up a bit.” His face hovered in front of hers, ignoring any personal boundary. “How would you like that? Would you like some coffee?” Her eyes just stared at him, blankly refusing any kind of connection no matter how much he pursued it. She had done nothing but repeat the same few dialogues every few hours, showing no signs of intelligence or actual personality whatsoever. Marrow couldn't help but to offer up prayers to old goddesses in hopes the cycle would break so he could finally sleep. Or work. Or do something other than wait.

The alicorn let out a sigh. “Well,” Marrow responded. “Thank you for your entertaining banter, madame. I daresay that was the most exciting story you told just now. Tell me, metabolizing oxygen sounds like what, again?”

“I would love some coffee!” the creature yelled in earnest, as if her life depended on the consumption of caffeinated beverages. Marrow dropped his cup, the warm, brown liquid seeping into a large quantity of papers littering the ground.

“Celestia, wha-,” he stammered, his hooves groping for the record button on his pipbuck. He heard the satisfying click and two beeps. “You said you would like some coffee?”

She breathed a number of times, leaving Marrow with an expecting look on his face. Something new was exactly what he needed to impress the elder council. If he could build a rapport with this lovely creature, that would just be the whipped cream on top. “Oh, yes! Coffee would be the perfect pick-me-up right now. I'll take mine with two sugars, pleassssse black and hurry it wwwwwould like a lactose-free Cappuccino a Macchiato, I don't care how you do it, with extra ninety-percent or higher cocoa shavings on top and could I get a side offfffff tea, Earl Grey, iced ooooone of those orange milkshake things? I can't have caffeine due to my heart.”

Marrow's eyes widened with shock and concern as the alicorn lay there exhibiting the most perfect madness. He scrambled for a clipboard, pen and paper as she went on, ceaselessly. Her tone quickly grew more chilling as she continued, her breath becoming irregular.

“Could I get that coffee, soon? IIIII feel so cold iiiiit's chilly in here right? Kkkhhhept at a pleasant sixty-eight degreesssss feel my legs! I can't feel my legs! … vvvvbed is getting so hard; I swear those cutbacks are really getting iiiiiisn't my room! Where am I? What happened to me? I don't feel … right … He won't answer us. ANSWER US!”

Sweating profusely, Marrow documented her symptoms. “Light convulsions, breath is shallow. Subject seems confused as to who she is and where she is. Probable dissociative identity disorder. Suggest expert evaluation by Scribe Red Book. As for now,” he said, finishing up with his clipboard and finding a spot for it on an experiment-filled workbench. “I will attempt vocal contact and communication with the subject.”

“Subject? I didn't sign up for the experiment today, it was the blue girl! The ministry mare's friend! You can't do this! I am a citizen of Equestria! I have rights! Hiiihe obviously wasn't talking about you, Sunny Hine ooooout there? We're all trapped in here together. Can you talk, maybe we can follow your voice? Hello?”

He furrowed his brow, focusing on taking in everything he could. “Hello.”

“H-hello? HELLO?! Oh, thank Celestia, I – I thought we were goners, for sure! Where are we? I don't think we're in the facility anymooooo How'd you come to that conclusion? Idiot.”

“Please, please. One personality at a time. Tell me, what do you last remember?”

“Touring the facilityyyyy were securing and storing more of the waste. Don't know why they need so many sanitation woooooo test today. It's been so much work getting to this point, and we … QUIET! You signed your NDA! We all signed it! No discussing Ministry business with-” She took a very deep breath in as the storm clouds which raged in her eyes solidified into those all-too-familiar pupils. Old pupils of patient terror. “Relax, everypony, and let me explain.” Her voice portrayed false warmth that both soothed and raised the hair on Marrow's mane and coat, but she spoke with the authority of one put in charge. Who was this personality? “There was an experiment at the facility. There were, however, some … unforeseen consequences and we were all caught in their wake. When it became apparent that not all of us could make it I had to think quickly to find a workable solution. Had I not been there, these ponies could have perished!”

Well, now that's a new one, he thought. Perhaps this is magical instead of psychological? “You. I have spoken with you before. Could you tell me what is wrong? Was it a memory spell or maybe a trapped memory orb? Damn, I wish Red Book were here.”

The alicorn gave a dismissive and haughty laugh. “Is that your psychotherapist? That is truly too cute. This goes far beyond any pedantic answer of simple memory spells cooked up by some unicorn professor in a stuffy, old library in Canterlot.” She giggled again, her smugness beginning to scratch at Marrow's patience. “No, what you see before you is the result of countless hours of research by the greatest minds Equestria has ever seen. No psychoanalyst has any hope of even beginning to understand this situation. Suffice it to say, these ponies are safe and in a kind of stasis. I'm helping them through this time of transition. Tell me, Marrow. How do you cope with the incompetence surrounding you?”

“How did you know my name?”

“I have ears, don't I?”

She had a point. Even in a catatonic state, this creature could have some functioning senses. That sent a chill up his spine.

“I asked you a question, High-Scribe.”

Marrow sighed. He had to keep the alicorn talking, but didn't want to incriminate himself. Why did he feel so compelled to talk to her? To tell her everything? He felt a force inciting his emotions and seducing his knowledge away. His tongue was drying out from allowing his mouth to hang open. He was powerless and needed to talk. “It's infuriating having to wait for others to catch up, seeing missions botched before my eyes, watching them as they fail over and over again.”

“You feel they have no place, like they couldn't get any better.”

“They cannot prove their value to even themselves! It's a wonder we are as organized as we are. Why could they not just-”

“Be more like you?”

Marrow stared at her, silently with an unfathomable expression. “Who are you?”

“I am just a pony upon whom fate has bestowed a blessing. Equestria is sick, Marrow. The land cries out for blood and the ponies living in it are more than happy to oblige. I believe you and I can change that. Can you imagine all of Equestria intelligent, fit … ageless? A perfect Equestria, united in a joint effort to take back the world and even reach out to conquer the stars? Free from all in-fighting, discord and disharmony? With you and I at the forefront, able to delegate tasks we know would be completed without fear of seeing them mishandled? Can you imagine this, Marrow?”

The stallion gave a slow but terse nod. “You need to prove your intentions before we can start trusting each-other. You know my name, but I still do not know yours.”

“Of course, High-Scribe. You may call me … Solidarity. You will start receiving gifts of great variety. Here is my first gift: you may wish to edit that recording.”

“Already started,” Marrow said, holding up his pipbuck for her to see. She smiled a weak, but mischievous grin.

“Marrow, I have a feeling you and I are going to become very close.”

She kissed at him as her face relaxed. Her pupils ripped apart and returned to acting like storm clouds in her eyes. Marrow chuckled as he finished editing the recording he had made of the conversation. If I knew she was that kind of mare, he thought, his mind buzzing off into many different directions. Maybe I would have approached the subject sooner. I wonder if her mutated cells are compatible. Where is she from?! Celestia damn, why didn't I ask that? Why did I feel comfortable telling her so much? And how is it morning? Have I been sleeping standing up? I suppose that would explain the headaches.

His musings were interrupted once again by two rising and falling tones and the ratcheting of the door.

“Marrow, my friend,” Elder Gazpacho said as he entered the room, walking over to the scribe. He smelled of cigar smoke, making the room seem a little cozier, somehow. “Any luck with our beautiful guest?”

“Quite a bit, sir,” Marrow said, picking up his clipboard and showing it to the elder. “All documented and nearly ready for your perusal. I should have a report ready for you by this evening.”

“Oh, that ees some great news; I cannot wait to read and listen to what joo have for me. Unfortunately, joo have other plans this evening.”

Marrow's eyebrows raised in expectation. “Sir? I thought I was taken off of the Balk excursion.”

“And joo still are. No, I have something more important. Remember our leettle trap?”

Marrow nodded. “Of course, sir.” How could he forget? This one act would secure at least four assets at once, and he was very curious to see what else said assets could snag them.

“Well we are going to e-spring it. Tonight.”

Marrow felt warmth rush to his face. “Did we find the spot?”

“Applewood. Sleepy Shores radioed us just before I e-stepped in dees room.”

“Is this really our most promising potential asset?”

“She mentioned something about him having some kind of a breakdown, but he ees the only one with the required e-skills. Dees ees our guy.”

“May I ask why I am requested to go? Wasn't the Head Paladin put on this mission? Trapping a spy seems a little dangerous for the likes of a scribe.”

“Well, nomber one: dees needs to be a stealth mission. Power armor would geef away our positions. And besides my friend, no matter how frightening my son can be in his armor, joo are a big, scary sonofabeetch!”

They shared a laugh, each knowing full well how ruthless Marrow could be. After the last echo of their mirth died, Marrow broke the silence. “So when do I leave?”

“Right now.”

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

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