//------------------------------// // Racing Memories // Story: Rusty Wheels, Tale of a Wannabe Pegasus // by Wind of the Skies //------------------------------// I dream of speed in my first conscious moments of life. Dad is sitting down, holding me in his lap, reading about the Wonderbolts and their amazing stunts and tricks, his gray horn tracing glittering figures in the air as he nuzzles into my mane. I was 4 then, the world was bright and wondrous. “They did the Buccaneer Blaze and rescued the hostages. They were heroes! They saved the day and raced off into the sunset, waiting for another call to rescue.” He booped me gently, causing me to sneeze and coo in delight. He nuzzled and cuddled me before his pipbuck starts beeping. “Looks like I gotta go kiddo. Duty calls.” He sets me down and shrugs on his utility barding. Looking up at dad, I swore to be a hero like him and the Wonderbolts. When I was 6 he died in the reactor, to radiation and attacks from a crazy pony who had held several hostage, including my uncle Security Sweep. I still remember the day so vividly, Uncle showing up with red eyes, covered in bruises and cuts and smelling… funny. “Gale. I… We… need to talk. Your dad he...” He sobs and rubs his eyes. “He was a hero Gale. He saved the whole vault. But he’s not coming back. He died. Too many rads. Too many internal injuries. Damnit! It should have been me. I signed up to protect the stable. He had the safe job...” He pulls me into a tight hug, hooves squeezing me tight as I sit there silently. “Your father is gone. I’m sorry Gale.” “Gone? Gone gone? He can’t have died!” I mumble softly, shaking. He strokes my mane. I always wondered which I was taking after more in my later years of development. I remember him chuckling somberly when he’s called back to the guard station to retrieve me from a harmless bit of troublemaking. “Just like your dad at that age… But we had the best fun doing stuff we weren’t supposed to. C’mon sport. Let’s go home and start on the homework. it’s almost your tenth birthday.” A month before I had gotten my cutiemark after I had raced through the Stable on a rickety cart I had hooked to a surplus steam talisman. It gave me enough speed to loop over a barricade and tackle the Overstallion’s daughter. Mare had I gotten my hide tanned for that! But she was stealing all the chalk and I had deemed it justice. My mark was a sheriff’s badge, except it was rolling, like a wheel. A fast one. Speed was my special purpose I felt. Tales of the Wonderbolts were held close in my heart. I liked to imagine myself as the steadfast Soarin, as the sweet and speedy Fleethoof. I… Had a heavy crush on Captain Spitfire. I’d blush every time I saw her poster in my room. But we all have quirks right? Anyways. Due to the erm, unorthodox foalhood I had, being raised by two different professions they weren’t sure where exactly to put me. Until I got my cutiemark anyways. A lawkeeping cutiemark demands that I go into lawkeeping. Uncle Sweep was my boss. It was nice? Kinda boring. Not much happens in the stable. So I ran, to and fro all around the stable. Years passed like this, the gray walls monotonous and boring, getting even more boring and monotonous as they slipped away. To feel more alive I’d run harder, faster, less caring of my surroundings. Soon enough it was my 20th birthday and I was running to the atrium for our celebration of survival. Not, y’know, celebrating my birthday. I’m not special enough for that. No, it was celebrating the day our Stable closed. Still is always a wonderful party. Our ration coupons are doubled for everyone and just a great time. We actually bust out the aging bottles of whiskey one of the first occupants had made those long decades ago. I was actually quite late to the party, having extended my patrol to a few of the deeper parts of the stable to see if anypony was doing anything nefarious which was never likely, the crazy pony who killed Dad was a reactor technician who had gone mad and wanted to irradiate the whole Stable. Anyways. I was galloping through the halls and up the stairs quicker than I really should have and I guess I slammed into the Overstallion hard enough that I broke a couple of his ribs. I guess it was a huge scandal and he never liked me anyways. So he sent his goon squad into the holding cell I was being kept in after that. They broke my leg, laughed and said that’d teach me to slow down. But they never really released me. I missed the party. They sat around solemnly watching me, Ripsaw frowning in particular. Him and I were friends but he was unspeakably loyal to the orders given. No matter how he hated them. “So Gale, I- Are you crying? Did they give you any med-x? None at all? Oh for the love of Celestia!” The Overstallion facehoofs and glares at his cronies. “I said make him pay, not torture him until we exile him from the vault! Idiot colts!” His horn glows and he levitates a syringe of Med-x over, injecting it into me. Slowly the world glosses over, becoming warmer and brighter, pain fading. “So, Gale. Galloping Gale. You’ve been an annoyance ever since you were brought on security. My daughter hates your idiot hide and you’ve assaulted me right before the commencement speech. I’m exiling you. I-I mean. Just. Look, the world is habitable again, but it’s still dangerous and tainted so it’s not a death sentence. But we can’t have a pony like you in here.” The world seems to stop after he finishes. “Exile? Outside?” He nods and I gulp, paling. “W-will you heal my leg?” I gesture to it. “We’ll set it and give you a cast. I refuse to waste a healing potion on you.” I nod, faintly wondering if he was honest about the surface being livable before my panic attack finally catches up and knocks me out. I’m thankful I wasn’t awake for the bone being set. I’m thankful they let me keep my security pipbuck. Not so thankful they plastered me with bright orange paint. I woke up outside the Door, incredibly sore. A real life paper note was stapled to my flank. ‘Gale, I’m sorry they had to exile you, Me and Sweep love you and wish you success in your endeavors. I was going to give you these at the party as a birthday gift but y’know, things happened. I’ll miss you and your silly colt crush on Spitfire. From, Ripsaw.’ Love? He loved me? But. That didn’t make any sense! And give me what? I shakily stand up and blink, my uniform feeling much snugger in places it never did before as well as a few new colours being evident. I glance back, eyes widening as I see a set of orange wings sewn into the shoulders. Er, not wings, but embroidery of them. Like huge patches. My cutiemark was sewn into the flanks as well as an underscore of ‘Spitfire Securities’ in safety orange. “T-the barding from the shop? He knew I was saving req tokens for it!” I tug at the collar of it, feeling the subtle bump of more embroidery. I quickly shuck it and look in the barding. It has a message from Ripsaw again. ‘I love you, you oblivious idiot. May this keep you safe.’ Tears drop silently as I contemplate what could have been. Sure, I had the hots for Spitfire but I definitely swung for both teams. I wish he had told me before now though. I slip the barding back on and hug myself, before struggling onto my hooves and taking the first of many steps away from the vault, through this miserable rocky cave. My EFS had put up an insistent green marker leading away, the objective being ‘Get outside.’ I walked as quick as my broken leg let me, not too terribly fast. Dripping water echoed throughout, my pipbuck lamp the only light left as I followed the marker. My tears had finally stilled as I reached the main stretch of the cavern. There was light streaming in through a dusty, slatted door, broken with bullets and stained with blood but mostly intact. I rested my horned head against it with a thunk, breathing through the pain radiating up from my leg. Once my mind is stilled I open the door, horn glowing in the stark blackness and ominous rumbling flashes. New Game Start Galloping Gale Strength:4 Perception:6 Endurance:6 Charisma:4 Intelligence:7 Agility:7+1 Luck:6 Traits: Small Frame, Good Natured Tagged Skills: Guns, Repair, Medicine.