Fallout: Equestria - Just Like Clockwork

by Starlight_Tinker

Chapter 7 - Move Along Home

Chapter 7 - Move Along Home

"You're not scientifically possible!"

The leather cut a stinging red lash across my chest as the whip was brought to bear for the ninety-sixth time. I winced painfully as the flesh of my new wound cried out in anguish and those near it renewed their own individual protests.

"WHAT IS YOUR MISSION!?" screamed the unicorn torturer before me, "TALK!"

Another lash; this time coiling across my stomach and around my left flank.

"I...told...you..." I panted, "We're not, ugh...spies..."

"LIAR!" the unicorn growled in disgust, readying the bullwhip for another strike. Suddenly, and much to my relief, another, paler shade of magic grabbed it from him.

"Perhaps it is time we tried my approach, Stockade," came a prim female tone "Yours is clearly too heavy-hoofed."

"Daisy! What the hell are you doing here!? This is my interrogation!" the whipping pony called Stockade whispered angrily.

"It's our interrogation now, Stockade," she said as she fixed him with an icy stare, "You're not allowed to conduct them on your own anymore, remember? Not since the 'incident' last month-"

"That was an accident!" he shouted, "How the fuck was I supposed to know that informant had a heart condition!?"

"By looking at her files!" she hissed, "You are altogether too rough with the detainees! It's just sheer dumb luck that you haven't killed anypony innocent!"

"Hmph," he grumbled, "No such thing these days."

The prim one ignored him and floated a pencil out from behind her ear, positioning it atop a clipboard that was also being held in the aura of her magic. She stood in front of me for a few seconds, filling in the fields of a Ministry of Morale form. She took her time - it's not like I was going anywhere. My hind legs dangled uselessly beneath me as thick metal manacles clamped around my forelegs held me aloft. It was only a couple of inches, but that tiny elevation had resulted in an exquisite ache developing between my shoulder blades over the past three hours (never mind the bloody rings of irritation above my forward hooves or the results of Stockade's whipping). I found myself nodding off very quickly, the exertions of the torture session having rapidly caught up with me. But, just when I thought I would get a few seconds of beloved rest, the piercing tone of the clipboard wielder dragged me back to lucidity.

"My name is Daisy Chain," she said matter-of-factly, "I'm with the Ministry of Morale, and I'll be supervising this interrogation."

"Forgive me...for not...shaking your hoof..." I rasped, my fatigued body betraying my weakness, "I'm a little...tied up."

"Quite," she replied as a thin shadow of a smile slipped across her face, "Let's get straight down to it then, shall we? You've been identified as a likely enemy operative, and this...exercise, is designed to reveal your intent and your contacts. With me so far?"

"That much I'd...gathered..." I said as my head nodded forward out of exhaustion.

"Good," she said firmly, waking me up a little, "That makes my job a whole lot easier. I want your real name, mission and contacts followed by your signature on the transcript of the confession."

"But I'm not...a spy...!" I said despairingly, "I've already told...him that...a hundred times!"

Daisy Chain frowned and looked at me blankly for a moment before she spoke.

"Oh...you're not a spy, then?" she asked innocently.

"No!" I shouted, a newfound rush of adrenaline fuelling my exasperated struggles, "I've been saying the same thing for the past three hours! I. Am. Not. A. Spy!"

"Oh my," Daisy replied, "Stockade! Why didn't you tell me he wasn't a spy!? We have to get him out of here!"

"W-what!?" I gasped, "You...you're going to release me!? Just like that!?"

"Of course we are! We're not animals!" she said as she flipped the papers on her clipboard over, "We'll just call a sky wagon to come and convey you back to- oh. It seems you don't have a home address. How odd..."

Stockade chuckled silently behind her as she continued.

"Nor do you have any official government records. That's quite an admin leak we have isn't it? Perhaps your medical or insurance records will tell us about you," she said as another page was flipped around the back of her board.

"Hmm, let's see...nope. No medical records, no insurance policies, no academic listings, no-"

"I get the picture," I said quietly.

Daisy looked up at me, a single unimpressed eyebrow arched upwards.

"You're a complete non-entity," she said, "And I don't like not knowing who's trotting about my country."

"Look," I replied, "I know what this looks like, but I'm not your enemy. If anything, I'm here to help."

"And I'm next in line to the throne," Daisy responded sharply, "Now, I'm getting impatient. Tell me what I want to know."

"Alright. Listen," I grumbled as my shoulders made another attempt to separate from my skeleton, "My name is Compass, and I'm harmless. That's all you need to know."

"Very well then, Mr. Compass," Daisy sighed, "We'll do it the hard way."

She turned wearily toward a table near the shadowed corner of the room - the harsh, bright light above us did well to limit my sight, but my eyes had had a good three hours now to acclimate to the extreme luminosity. Daisy returned after a moment holding a sharp, curved device in her magic. It looked very delicate, and the tip of its hooked end diminished to an insanely fine point. Something told me that its purpose would certainly not be gentile.

"H-hold on!" I stammered, "We can talk about this! I can tell you some things. If you'll just put down that-"

"The time for talking is over, Mr. Compass," Daisy hissed as she floated the device toward me, "That ship, as they say, has sailed."

"Wait! Wait!" I shouted, "W-what are you going to do to me!?"

Daisy remained silent as she levitated the device gently in front of my eyes, slowly turning it so that the blunt rear of the hook hovered towards my face. It began to teasingly run across my cheek, tickling me as it continued to descend down my neck. It travelled progressively lower as beads of fresh sweat began to run down my forehead.

That's just what I needed now: a going over from a freaking sadist!

The hook passed over my chest, making the still fresh scars from that incident with the Cyberponies itch like crazy. Daisy took a moment to circle my stomach with the implement before sliding it over my nether regions. In fright, I made the mistake of reflexively pulling away from the sharp hook, an action which resulted in me uncomfortably forcing my legs apart. Daisy took this opportunity to move between them with her little tool so that I was forced to retain the undignified position.

"What...are...you...doing...!?" I gasped as the smooth, polished metal made its way around my sheath. I felt a warm, sweet rush as the unicorn's ministrations forced my genitals to betray me.

"I often find," she said gently as the cool metal continued to massage my most sensitive areas, "that male operatives become far more talkative after they've been castrated..."

Oh fuck...

"N-no!" I shouted suddenly "I don't have anything to tell you! Please, stop!"

The unicorn looked up and locked eyes with me as she turned the hook around with her magic -the next time she touched me with that thing, I was getting mutilated!

"Please! I'm telling the truth! S-stop!" I panted.

Daisy's gaze remained fixed with mine as the sharp point of the hook made contact with my hide. I could feel her dragging it across my skin, increasing the pressure with each pass - it wouldn't be long before I was filleted. With time rapidly running out I panicked and began screaming for her to stop, using the only valuable information in my possession as ammunition:

"Stop! I have information! Th-there's going to be an attack!"

Suddenly, all activity in the room ceased. A heavy silence had descended, muffling even the clinking of my chains.

"...Where?" Daisy said threateningly, the hook poised and ready to slice. Her eyes were terrifying - entirely unblinking and empty of everything but malice.

"Everywhere..." I replied, still straining desperately to avoid her touch.

"What do you mean 'everywhere'?" she said as a deep frown began to weigh down her brow, "Tell me where you're going to attack!"

At that, she gave a little tug with her magic and I began to feel the first trickles of blood run slowly down my leg.

"Ack! No, wait! It's a full, agh, pre-emptive strike! They're going to destroy Equestria in a single day!"

"W-what!?" she said as her heightened emotional state betrayed her, "How!? What kind of attack is it!?"

"A...balefire, ugh, bombardment," I stammered, "The devastation will be, ack, unimaginable!"

Daisy looked a great deal less threatening now than she had a moment earlier (despite her still being in a position to brutally castrate me).

"...When?" she whispered, a tiny shiver making its way into her vocal chords.

"I don't know exactly!" I shouted, exhaustion racking my muscles, "A week, maybe less!"

Daisy's face had drooped into an expression of abject devastation as I spoke. Only seconds later, the hook was back on its table, and I was finally able to relax a little. The silence that had enveloped the room earlier had grown into an oppressive blanket of anti-sound - it was so quiet I could actually hear the blood rushing around my veins!

"Very clever," said Stockade, as he startled me with the suddenness or his address, "Very clever indeed. The zebras really are upping their game with this one, eh, Daisy? "

She didn't respond. The unicorn torturer had been completely disarmed, and was now staring blankly at some undefined spot on the floor, her mind reeling.

"Daisy...?" said Stockade as he moved around to face her, "You okay? Surely you don't believe him? This is just a really well orchestrated bluff, don't you see? They send in a supposed deep-cover operative, we catch him, he breaks and then singlehoofedly demoralizes our entire intelligence service with tales of some phantom apocalypse attack!"

He laid a hoof upon her shoulder and looked caringly into her eyes (which, for the two torturers, was a sight to behold - it was like watching a pair of manticores painting a fresco).

"It's all propaganda," he said softly, "He's trying to trick us - don't worry."

"It's...it's not..." Daisy mumbled before forcing herself to take a steadying breath, "I don't think...I don't think he's lying Stockade..."

"Huh?" he responded, "Now, come on Daisy, we both know that the zebras don't have the resources for that kind of-"

"You might not know!" she whispered hastily, "But remember, my clearance is two levels higher than yours! And I've seen...reports..."

Now it was Stockade's turn to look frightened. His face drooped much as Daisy's had only a minute or so earlier.

"What kind of reports...?" he asked, the sound of his voice betraying his suddenly dry throat.

"Whispers, rumours, hearsay," replied Daisy, "Nothing to worry about in and of themselves, but...considered altogether...they point to a massive covert attack. Just like he described..."

Stockade swallowed loudly as his mind worked at full speed to comprehend what he'd just heard - his eyes began to mist over as they darted back and forth in their sockets. With that, Daisy regained enough of her presence of mind to turn and trot sombrely from the room.

"I...I need a smoke," she said to nopony in particular.

I was left alone with the violent buck, as he tried desperately to retain his composure. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye as he slowly turned his head. I had expected another round with his trusty bullwhip, but was surprised to find him trotting rather gently towards me.

"Who are you...?" he asked quietly, his fighter's aggression having deserted him. I blinked slowly and cocked my head as much as my confinement would allow.

"The truth?" I asked - Stockade nodded, "My name really is Compass...and I'm from the future..."

Stockade looked at me - no, through me would be more apt - as he checked for signs of deception. After a length of time that stretched into an uncomfortable mini eternity, he spoke again:

"What happens...?" he asked throatily, "What do the zebras do to us...?"

"Nopony really remembers," I responded truthfully, "But I do know that the attack will be brief, unexpected and that next to nothing of the old Equestria will survive..."

Stockade's eyes misted once again and he began staring at some undefined point far below the floor. His despondency was short lived however, as his ears suddenly perked up and the expression on his face started to spontaneously radiate hope.

"Th-that's why you're here then, right?" he stammered excitedly, "You're going to help; you're going to save us!?"

Oh Celestia, don't make me do this...

As much as my wounds stung and my limbs ached, I still couldn't bring myself to tell him the absolute truth. Statistically, he was very likely to be one of the primary casualties of the attack - and if that was indeed to be the case, he wouldn't even know what hit him anyway...

I mean...that makes sense right? Yeah...yeah it does - it's far kinder to lie.

I...I think...

"...yes," I said in a small voice, "I...I'm here to stop the war."

Without another word, Stockade used his magic to release my restraints and sprinted from the cell, locking the door behind him. I fell to the cold, uneven floor with a thud, a crack and a scream as my shoulders agonisingly reset themselves.

After the pain had had a chance to ebb and I was able to feel again, the relief of being free from the shackles was finally able to catch up with me, and was more than enough to mask the dampness of the cell and the multiple lacerations that now littered my already scarred hide. It was roughly at this point that I realised just how tired I was. Fatigue approached like an old friend, and I welcomed its warm embrace with open forelegs. The harsh spark bulb above me was a bright, distant star, and I was atop a mountain; alone but for the cool winds sweeping up from the planes below.

My eyes slipped closed, and I was finally allowed to leave the conscious realm.

Now, where was I?

Oh yes - I was falling.

It wasn't all too clear, you see - I was drifting in and out of consciousness, I had a gargantuan wound in my chest and I seemed to be glowing. All that happening at once was bound to confuse anypony. As I fell, my body felt like it was pulsing with what I can only describe as a glorious fire. However, exhilarating as these feelings were, they were still, for whatever reason, accompanied by an immense sadness - like I was saying goodbye to an old friend and an entire world all at once.

I was also aware that I was accelerating...my surroundings were blurry and nondescript, but I could definitely feel myself getting faster. The freefall didn't last long though, as there was a sudden change in my velocity, and I began to feel as if I was being smothered. The elation of the golden glow was now fighting against dark, oily feelers. Horrors were close - they sought to enter me; to envelop and become me. I had to fight them! With the last ounces of my strength and my final few iotas of lucidity, I began to struggle. I was not about to relinquish my being like this. It may have been the end of my life, but that didn't mean that I had to like it!

A muffled thud resounded from somewhere far below me, and a strong current in the thick, treacle-like medium around my form began to carry me downwards. Deeper and deeper I sank, forever closing in on my doom. I wondered, what would the afterlife be like? Would Celestia and Luna be there? Would Valve? By this point, I was beginning to doubt that there even was a hereafter - thus far being dead hadn't scored very highly in my eyes! A sudden sharp impact and a shower of heavy viscous morbidity signalled my release from the darkness and onto the ground - it was like I was being birthed all over again. Was that what happened when you die? You just wake up in a new body?

In short: no. I realised very quickly that I was most certainly not being reborn.

I felt...sullied somehow. As if there was a corruption within me that was fighting tooth and claw for control of my being. I writhed on the slimy plane I had been deposited on, clutching desperately at my body and mind as the dark sludge and the golden glow fought it out. I was suddenly aware of a presence in my immediate vicinity. To my horror, when I forced open my eyes, I found a distorted nightmare of vision - colours ran like rainbow vomit down the walls and a pair of shady, excited masses were rapidly approaching me! I struggled to my hooves and took a defensive stance, casting an aggressive gaze toward them. Seemingly though it wasn't enough as they stopped only for a moment to communicate in guttural grunts and screams before rushing toward me. I whipped out my limbs to fight, but they were too fast and too strong - before I knew it, a thick, long tentacle had encircled me and I had been hoisted onto one of the creature's backs.

I still fought of course, for I could feel my condition improving with every step. I was getting stronger, more powerful, more lucid. The tentacle, unfortunately was still as firm as before, and despite my burgeoning new rush of physical ability, I was still effectively confined. A long time passed during which the two creatures moved at breakneck speed through a whirlwind of hellish colours, and I was buffeted repeatedly by the sub-dermal motion of their many warped bones. After maybe half an hour of pained, distorted struggling, I was rolled out of my confinement into a large, melted room. Inside, there were several more of the creatures, who all greeted me with a series of horrific screams. They had taken me back to their nest! Surrounded, I tried my best to beat them back, but was quickly subdued. One of the more graceful looking blobs brought a new type of tentacle to bear, and promptly stabbed me in the neck with its sharp end.

My new strength disappeared as sleep cut me down.

"It's...it's...bigger on the inside!?" shouted Applebloom in awe.

"Nice, isn't it?" I responded as I busied myself with the TARDIS controls, "Dimensionally transcendental, my fruity friend! I would show you the equations, but as I said a moment ago, we have very little time to lose!"

"Doctor," said Ditzy, "You're doing that thing again. You know - when you talk at like a thousand miles an hour and leave everypony else in the dust. You have to explain yourself once in a while!"

"Ah'll second that!" shouted Applebloom as she engaged in a staring contest with the time rotor, "Where the buck are we!?"

"Hmm...?" I responded, "What were you saying...?"

Ditzy shot me an unimpressed stare, like a mother admonishing a dishonest foal.

"Oh! Right! Heh - sorry about that girls," I stammered while continuing to manipulate the console, "Applebloom, welcome to the TARDIS, my spaceship come time machine."

"TARDIS?" she responded, "Ain't this what ya said that Master fella was trying to build fer Equestria?"

"Indeed," I said, "The name's an acronym for 'Time and Relative Dimension in Space' - you may recognise the principal of its operation from that equation you 'derived'. But don't get any ideas about having your own little fleet of them - I won't allow anypony to possess such advanced time weapons - too powerful; too much potential for misuse."

Applebloom looked as if she was about to launch into a retort - no doubt an impassioned speech about how my advanced technology could potentially save thousands of lives. I'd heard it before though...dozens if not hundreds of times. Since I wanted to avoid the issue, I segued straight into answering Ditzy's question instead.

"Right, Ditzy," I said (much to Applebloom's annoyance), "You wanted an explanation didn't you? Well here you go: we're going to be attempting a risky temporal manoeuvre so that I can see what the Master's up to. I just need a few minutes to reconfigure the TARDIS."

"Risky?" she responded, an eyebrow raised and a smirk curling her lips, "So, translating to normal speak for me and Applebloom that's, what, insanely dangerous? Life threateningly stupid?"

"Pretty much," I smiled.

"It's whut now!?" shouted Applebloom as I kicked the TARDIS into first gear and let off the hoofbrake. The time rotor began to slowly thrum with artron energy as the control room vibrated under our hooves.

"I hope the gearbox isn't too worn out," I winced as I moved to a set of seldom used controls, "I'm not that great with the clutch..."

"The...the clutch!?" exclaimed Applebloom, "Are y'all tellin' me that I'm in a time travellin' alien spaceship with a manual transmission!?"

"Well, what did you think the noise was?" I asked, "Poor old girl's last service was over a millennia ago!"

"Oh, Ah do not like this!" she continued, "Will somepony please reassure me that we ain't gonna blow up or somethin'!?"

"There's nothing to worry about," I lied, "When the TARDIS moves, it travels through space-time, transporting itself to any point at any time. However, this disconnects its occupants from the local progression of cause to effect, thereby separating them permanently from participating in certain temporally invariant events. Since both we and the Master are now entwined in goings on proximate to such a fixed point, we can't risk moving through time like that - if we did we'd essentially be nullifying our ability to stop him."

"If that's the case," said Ditzy, "Then why is the up and downy thing going...well, up and down? Doesn't that mean we're in flight just now?"

"Well, naturally, I've found a way around the problem haven't I?" I responded proudly, "When the TARDIS dematerialises, it separates itself from the space time continuum and moves in what's essentially an extra-dimensional straight line to its destination, right? Well, I've just reconfigured it to follow the curvature of the continuum instead, so we're now able to fast forward and rewind time at will without committing ourselves to any fixed events. Clever, eh?"

"Clever!?" shouted Applebloom, "That's...that's genius! Ye had me worried there, Doc - for a sec, I thought that ya weren't even qualified to drive this thing!"

"See, Ditzy - now that's how you appreciate somepony's bright ideas. You might want to take some notes," I smirked confidently as Ditzy shot me a dirty look, "And I can assure you, Applebloom, that I am licensed to pilot a TARDIS. Well...provisionally, at least."

"Provisionally...?" the pale yellow mare said, a worried expression creeping across her face, "Whut d'ya mean 'provisionally'?"

"I think you lot call it a learner's permit," I mused.

"Oh Celestia," whispered Applebloom as she cradled her head in her hooves, "We're gonna die aren't we!?"
"No, no, no," I responded, "Don't be silly - with our current temporal velocity, the chances of a sufficiently powerful outside force actually coming into contact with us are, ooh, about one in-"

Suddenly, the floor fell out from under us. My first antigravity experience in decades was tainted by the taste of blood as my two companions and I slammed against the TARDIS ceiling. We returned just as quickly (and twice as painfully) to the floor below, dazed, confused and aching.

"Whad duh heww wuth thad!?" shouted Ditzy as she rose to her hooves and cradled her bleeding mouth. The TARDIS master alarm was bonging threateningly in the background while various sparks and gases flowed freely from damaged systems around the control room.

"I don'd know," I responded around my own swollen tongue, which I had thankfully avoided amputating with my teeth, "Buth, we're cerdainly nod mobing anymowe."

A chuckle from somewhere else in the room alerted me to a third presence around the console, and I turned quickly to find a bruised and dishevelled Applebloom struggling to stifle what I'm sure was riotous laughter.

"Anb whad exactwy ith tho thunny!?" I asked indignantly as I silenced the alarm and set about rerouting the damaged conduits.

"Sorry," giggled Applebloom, "It's just that, ha, you two, he he, well...the two o' ya sound so darn silly! Ha ha ha!"

I grumbled angrily and pulled the scanner round to check both our location and the state of the TARDIS, ignoring Applebloom's tasteless mirth.

"Hob come oo awen't hurt?" asked Ditzy, "Oo hid the theiling jutht like ee did!"

"A...an old friend o' mine made me a potion once," she said, casting her eyes downward in sorrow, "Ma mouth never gave me trouble again..."

A painful memory had obviously resurfaced, and Applebloom's eyes had become watery with the sudden sadness. Ditzy looked to me for counsel, a confused look on her face. I shook my head: leave it alone Ditzy, my eyes said.

I turned back to the scanner as the throbbing pain in my tongue began finally to subside. Upon my requesting a summary of the crash, the TARDIS returned an error that I had never seen before:

Huh...weird, I thought. Ditzy must have been giving Applebloom a wide berth, as she was standing right beside me when I turned round. After squealing like a startled filly, I cleared my throat and began to speak (without an engorged interloper garbling my words this time):

"Good grief, Ditzy! Don't do that!" I shouted, my hearts still beating quickly.

"Sorry," she said (clearly her mouth had recovered partially as well), "It's just that Applebloom, well...she's gone all sad. I don't know why, but it...it's...well, just look at- Hey!? Where'd she go?"

I followed the line of Ditzy's hoof, and sure enough, Applebloom was nowhere to be seen. Just as we were about to cast our eyes about us and begin looking for her though, a voice chimed into the conversation from somewhere behind us:

"Don't y'all know its rude to talk about somepony while they're in the same room as ya?" said Applebloom indignantly.

"Oh! Uh...A-Applebloom!" Ditzy stammered, "We, uh...we weren't talking about you, we were just, uh, concerned, you know? You looked so down all of a sudden."

"Don't worry about it, sugar - I'm just fine an' dandy," responded Applebloom with a smile, a hint of her sister's famous self reliance seeping into her mannerisms. Applebloom quickly set about changing the subject, staring intently at the message displayed on the scanner.

"Huh...weird," she said as I raised a single eyebrow, "'Inertial mismatch', huh? What wus that ya were sayin' about us not being acted upon by outside forces?"

"To be fair," I replied defensively while turning back to the scanner, "There shouldn't have been anything nearly powerful enough to disturb us in that broom cupboard. Aside from the janitor exploding, I can't see anything else even coming close to the required magnitude."

"I have an idea!" Ditzy shouted triumphantly, "Why don't we just go outside and see what happened?"

"Uh...yeah, I'm not so sure that's a good idea..." Applebloom replied cautiously, "We don't even know if we're on the same planet!"

"Trust me, we are," I said as I rolled my eyes, "Look, I'll even check the atmosphere for you."

I trotted around to the opposite side of the console, taking the scanner monitor with me (conveniently, my current console theme featured a rotating monitor). Activating the external sensors I pulled up a composition summary of the outside atmosphere.

"There you go Applebloom," I said comfortingly, "We have an atmosphere outside. Composition: eighty percent Nitrogen, eighteen percent Oxygen, two percent trace gases; density: one-point-two-two-five kilograms per cubic metre; radiation level-..."

I stopped. And I stared. My hearts slowed and my limbs turned to lead. I even ceased breathing for a few seconds.

The balefire radiation level in the air alone was over eight hundred Becquerel’s per kilogram! That amount of radioactivity could only have been caused by one thing...

With a pit rapidly opening up in my stomach, I activated the TARDIS external cameras. As I did so, somewhere deep inside me, something broke. I swallowed solemnly before turning to Ditzy and Applebloom. By now they had realised that something was wrong, and had trotted round to see what was concerning me so. I couldn't let them know what I'd seen though, so I turned off the scanner as soon as they began to move.

"What is it Doc?" asked Applebloom.

"Doctor, are you alright?" mirrored Ditzy.

"I...I'll be back in a few hours, girls," I said slowly.

"What?" said Ditzy, "Where are you-?"

I didn't let her finish - the TARDIS door slammed shut behind me, and I locked my companions inside, restricting access to the console at the same time with my sonic screwdriver.

Exhaling shakily, I turned around to face the world before me...

And fell to the ground in tears.

As I stirred, I discovered that a groggy mist had made its nest in my forehead. The room I found myself in was painfully bright yet wholly indistinct. Moving to wipe my eyes, I realised that I was in fact heavily restrained - thin metal bands held me down, with just enough slack for me to deduce the presence of chains.

Hoofcuffs, I thought, what the...what are monsters doing with hoofcuffs?

I swivelled my head slowly, trying to find something to lock on to and focus my vision. As it so happened, there was a moving blur dead ahead of me, so I began to squint awkwardly through the fog. The image resolved as my ciliary muscles squished the lenses in my eyes into shape (Equine Anatomy - A Practical Guide, pg. 54), and I felt my eyes widen in surprise as a view of Caring Heart's flank came into view.

I wasn't the only one surprised to see her either - my eyes rebelled to being opened so wide by shooting two little javelins of pain down my optic nerves. Wincing in sudden pain, I heard the distinctive sound of a surprised gasp and a dropped clipboard (followed by a frenzied series of loud cries).

"HE'S AWAKE! SOMEPONY GET IN HERE NOW!"

The sound of galloping was next; five sets of hooves were approaching by my estimate. I reopened my eyelids (slowly this time) and blinked repeatedly so that my irises had plenty of time to wake up and dilate properly. Opening my mouth to speak, I found that words were difficult to form. Even though I knew that it was a simple symptom of being dehydrated, I was still aware of a...strangeness...that had spontaneously become apparent to me (it was almost like I had new teeth - weird, eh?).

"Ha-...Ca-..." I began, the dryness stopping me before I could even utter a single syllable, "Ca-...rin-..."

The look on Caring's face was not the one I'd expected. She stared back at me as if I were a ghost.

"By Luna..." she whispered, "You can...you can still talk...!"

A retort would have been forthcoming were I not weakened, restrained and thirsty, so I settled for shooting her a dirty look - after all, she did kick me in the balls earlier that week. The hoofsteps were closing in as her mouth continued to slacken in awe of me. A number of armed ponies flooded into the room, pointing their rifles in my direction, but Caring stepped quickly between them and me.

"Wait!" she shouted, "He can still speak! I think...I think he's okay..."

A series of confused, and even sceptical, glances were exchanged between the guards as Caring turned back around to face me.

"Compass?" she said slowly, taking care to pronounce each syllable, "Are you still in there?"

"Aw...ka..." I slurred dryly.

"Can-you-un-der-stand-me?" she continued. I swallowed (or at least I attempted to) and tried again.

"Aw...ka..." I slurred again.

"Dr. Heart," said one of the guards softly, "I don't think he's with us anymore..."

As Caring began to stoically fight back tears, a bloom of anger borne of intense frustration started warming my stomach. I yanked back and forth at the chains binding me, motioning with my head toward a large glass jug filled with the Wasteland's poisonous excuse for water. At that, the guards all suddenly brought their weapons once again to bear and, just as before, Caring was forced to step in front of them and raise her voice.

"Hold on!" she shouted "Compass, have you been trying to say 'water' this whole time!?"

Give that filly a prize! I nodded emphatically as the guard's guns (and jaws) dropped down in awe. Just what the hell was surprising everypony so!?

Caring rushed to my side a moment later and began channelling vast mouthfuls of water into my throat with her magic.

"I can't believe it! I just - I mean - wow!" she chanted gleefully as my mammoth thirst was quenched. With water dribbling down my face and neck, I gasped for air when I couldn't drink anymore, startling every equine in the room.

"Thank. Fuck. For. That!" I said loudly, laying my head back down onto the mouldy pillow beneath me.

"Amazing..." mouthed Caring, "You're...you're totally cognizant, aren't you!?"

"Of course I am," I beamed as the ecstasy of refreshment left me in a euphoric daze, "Goddess that was a good drink!"

Caring motioned to the still stunned assortment of guards and they began to file silently out of the room. A brief glance back and forth told me that I was in a hospital in the Edinbuck settlement (I could see the remains of the castle out the window).

"Right Caring, first thing's first," I began as the unicorn cautiously approached my bedside, "Why am I chained to the- Wait! Where are Buckshot and Mo!? Did they get out of the StableTec facili-"

"Whoa! Calm down!" she said reassuringly, "They're fine, they're both absolutely fine. They're sleeping off their encounter in another room."

"Oh thank Celestia!" I gasped, relief rushing through my veins, "I wasn't sure if they'd made it out of there alive. The last thing I remember is..."

I stopped for a moment as my brain returned a flash of pain, a vision of death and a nightmare about monsters.

"The last thing you remember is...?" said Caring softly.

"...dying..." I whispered.

"Sounds about right." she said, while at the same time placing a hoof upon my foreleg in reassurance.

"What happened to me?" I continued, "I was..."

"It would be better for your recovery if you remembered yourself," she said, "Think back, and it'll come to you."

I nodded, and then swallowed nervously. My mind's eye began to replay the events leading up to my 'demise'. The Controller chased us; it was fast, I was slow. It caught up, I fired, it exploded-

Oh...

"I..." I gasped, staring down my torso, "I had a...a fucking armour plate embedded in my chest!"

"Keep going," said Caring as her grip on my hoof strengthened in support, "You're doing well, just try not to get too upset."

"Upset!?" I shouted, "I was dying! Why would I be upset!? If anything I'm over the moon! How the hell did you-"

"Just keep going," she interrupted, "I'll explain everything in a moment, but I need to know what you can remember before I do."

"Right...okay," I nodded, "Uh...after the explosion, I...I felt...fire..."

"Fire?" Caring asked, raising an eyebrow, "What do you mean 'fire'?"

"I was...glowing," I said slowly, "...and then I was flying, no - falling...and...and then I was being smothered, like I was drowning."

"Huh...glowing. Maybe that would explain the-" Caring muttered softly before suddenly stopping herself from continuing, "Anyway, that can come later. Is that all you remember?"

"Uh...yeah..." I lied (the nightmare about the monster attack would no doubt send a number of undesired signals regarding my mental state that I didn't really want broadcast).

"Okay," Caring said, smiling sweetly, "Allow me to fill in some of the blanks. You were impaled through the chest by a large alloy fragment when the cyborg you were fighting exploded. As a consequence of said explosion, the catwalk you were standing on gave way, dropping you into the Taint vat below."

"The...Taint...!?" I whispered, "But Buckshot said that stuff was poison; that it could kill with even the slightest touch!"

"It is, and it can," Caring said solemnly, "Why do you think I was so surprised when you woke up? Why do you think the guards looked so shocked? A single droplet of taint can cause almost immediate mutation - the results are even worse if it gets into the circulatory, digestive or respiratory systems. You, Compass, we're fully submerged in the stuff for several minutes."

"Minutes...!?" I gawked.

"Mm-hm," continued Caring, "And it would have been even longer had the bottom of the tank not given out under the added weight of the catwalk and that cyborg thing. You ended up in a drainage ditch underneath the silo."

"Buckshot and Mo...?" I said quietly. Caring nodded sweetly.

"As if they'd just leave you," she said, "That pair of foals turned straight back to come and help you when your fight with that 'Controller' thing got out of hoof."

I looked down at my chest - at my intact lungs and my beating heart. And I smiled. Moisture pooled at the corners of my eyes as gratitude welled up within me without limit.

"You okay?" asked Caring suddenly.

"Yeah," I sniffed, "Just...just happy, you know?"

Caring chuckled gently and wiped the tears from my face with her magic (I was still hoofcuffed to the bed, you see).

"Caring...?" I said as I nervously pursed my lip, "I'm almost afraid to ask this, but...what happened to me? There must be a reason I'm restrained like this."

"Well..." she said begrudgingly, "You were a little...violent when you came in."

"Violent!?" I said, raising my voice, "I didn't hurt anypony did I!?"

"Not terribly, no." she responded diplomatically, "Tell you what - how about I give you the good news first?"

"There's good news...?" I asked incredulously, "Be my guest. And can I have some more water while you're at it?"

"Sure," Caring said as she floated a 'fresh' jug over to my face and began tipping the liquid down my throat, "Well, first bit of good news - you only grew two extra limbs."

I immediately gagged, spraying my sheets with water in shock.

"WHAT!?" I shouted, "That's the good news!? Wh-where are they!? What happened-"

"Compass!" responded Caring loudly, "Calm down! I've already amputated them, don't worry. They weren't fully grown anyway - you have Buckshot and Mo to thank for that."

"B-but... limbs!" I stammered, "Wh-what...what we're they like...!?"

"Well, apparently," Caring began, "the Taint thought that you could do with a pair of wings..."

"W-wings!?" I said, suddenly excited, "That...that would've been amazing! Why did you cut them off?"

"Just because the Taint tried to give you a pair, doesn't mean it succeeded," she continued, "You ended up with a pair of tentacles not entirely unlike manticore tails."

"By the Goddess..." I whispered, taking care to keep still lest my other limbs spontaneously mutate into grotesque horrors, "Wh-what did I...you know...do?"

"Well you didn't kill anypony if that's what you're asking," replied Caring (to my unimaginable relief), "Not that you didn't try, though - the bloody things practically had minds of their own! It's lucky your venom glands hadn't...developed...yet..."

She trailed off as my eyes widened in horror. The hoofcuffs suddenly made a whole lot more sense. I was still and slack-jawed, staring off into the distance as Caring shuffled uncomfortably nearby - she was showing me a kindness in not elaborating any further on my mutation.

"Where, uh, ahem...where was I?" she stammered as her discomfort at my expression became more and more apparent, "Oh, yeah - good news. Uh...your chest injury healed pretty nicely - that's a definite plus, huh?"

"Caring," I said throatily, "Thank you. You...you have got to be the most incredible doctor in all of Equestria...! H-how...how the hell did you fix everything that was wrong with me!?"

"Actually, I'm afraid I can't take credit for that Compass," she said, "Believe it or not, you did most of the healing yourself."

"What?" I replied, my brow furrowing, "I thought Taint was lethal...and besides that, I was almost sliced in two!"

"Yet another reason for my surprise at your waking up," she retorted, "Your organs, your skeleton, your entire cellular structure were all in some sort of flux when you arrived. It was almost as if the Taint was being opposed by...something. Like the Taint pulled one way and a completely different process pulled the other. You, having been caught bang slap in the middle, suffered the net effect."

"Which was?" I asked anxiously.

"Cancellation," Caring replied, "Like I said, it's as if the first process pulled one way, and the second pulled the other. Considering what could have happened, you came out smelling like the proverbial rose."

I stared at the unicorn medic for a moment, awestruck by what I'd just heard. My luck had nothing to do with it, as Caring had asserted. I knew exactly whose doing this was...

"Doctor..." I whispered as an uncharacteristic thankfulness massaged my mind, "...thank you."

"What was that?" asked Caring.

"Nothing..." I said as another, more pressing thought occurred to me, "Caring...where did the armour plate go if I healed myself...?"

"Well," she replied sheepishly, "Ordinarily I'd ask a patient to sit down right about now, but since you're already-"

"Caring!" I interrupted loudly.

"It's part of your rib cage." she suddenly blurted.

"I-it...wh...huh!?" I articulated smoothly.

"Taint tends to do that sort of thing," Caring continued, "It joins things; changes them. Hell, you were halfway to becoming an alicor- uh, I mean the, uh, plate fused with your left ventricle and nine of your ribs, producing a sort of metallic-flesh composite."

"Wow..." I whistled, "That's...unbelievable...! I've never heard of a biological effect like that before. I mean, to think that I got stabbed in the heart and healed quickly enough to stay alive is...well, amazing...!"

"It wasn't all that quick," Caring said a moment later.

I looked up slowly and saw an apologetic look in her eyes - she wasn't finished her bloody list yet!

"Oh, Goddess," I grumbled, "There's more!?"

"A few, uh...minor issues, yeah," Caring continued begrudgingly.

"Well...?" I said, an eyebrow raised in irritation.

"Well," began the unicorn, "Your heart...wasn't nearly as quick as you think it was in healing itself..."

"Then...what kept me alive while it was out of action...?" I asked, concerned that her response would as ground-shakingly bizarre as the rest of the conversation.

"Your, uh...other heart," she said sheepishly.

I stared at her for several seconds, my expression unaltered and my eyes unblinking. After the third, fourth and fifth attempts by my mind to process her words, my frontal lobe gave up altogether.

"I'm sorry Caring, could you repeat that please?" I said politely.

"You have two hearts; a binary vascular system," she responded.

"Remarkable..." I whispered out of astonishment, "This Taint stuff...why has nopony tried to use it as a treatment or something!? It's incred-"

"It wasn't the Taint," Caring said bluntly, cutting me off, "There was evidence of mutation, yes, but your veins and arteries were already in that configuration. You've had two hearts this whole time - probably since before I met you..."

"The glow..." I whispered as I cast my mind back to my first encounter with the TARDIS. I had been struck by a terrifying blast of golden radiation; the same glow that had enveloped me after the Controller had had its revenge.

I licked my lips, unsure of what to do or to say. The only thing that came to me was to allow Caring to continue in the hope that I would be left alone for a while afterwards.

"Is there anything else...?" I said quietly.

"There're a few things still to go over, yeah," she said apologetically, "Are you okay - we can do this later if you'd like?"

"I'll be fine," I lied, "I just need to sort my thoughts out when we're finished here. How about we just fire through the last however many bits of news are left?"

"Are you sure?" she said, "I've not got much in the way of 'good' news left..."

"I just need some rest, Caring," I whined, "Let me have it and I'll digest anything I don't like with a good healthy nightmare."

"Okay..." she said sceptically, "Then I'll be quick - you ready?"

"No," I replied, "But I need to be told this at some point - may as well be now."

"Right then," Caring said briskly, "You asked for it... Next change: your Pipbuck's been partially fused to your foreleg."

"Wha-? Oh my God-!" I began, as my eyes once again widened in shock. I looked down, and by some miracle, was able to truncate my expression before my voice transitioned into a scream. The previously definitive line on my foreleg that separated me and my Pipbuck was gone, replaced instead by a smooth, sickly gradient of squishy, bloody metal and hard, cold flesh.

"It's fine!" I said with a quiver, louder than was really necessary, "I never took the bloody thing off anyway - just keep going Caring."

The unicorn doctor was obviously shaken by my distress but, to her credit, remained stoic, continuing with the last few items of her horrific list.

"Your cutie mark has changed again," she said strongly, "It's almost completely different than before, and I'm afraid that the change looks permanent this time."

"Oh, so it's finally finished warping out of shape?" I said, forcing an unconvincing tone of normality upon my throat. The asymmetrical twitching of my right eye no doubt gave away the internal cries of anguish I was suffering, "What does it look like now? A combustible lemon? A cybernetically enhanced anus? Celestia's left ear?"

"Not quite," came the sympathetic response, "If anything, it looks...like an hourglass...."

Well that makes sense, I thought morbidly. The previous shapes now seemed a great deal more reasonable - they were just intermediate steps between my caret and the current shape.

"What's next?" I said as I gritted my teeth in readiness for the next bombshell, "Please tell me we're nearly done!"

"You'll be glad to know that this is the last piece of news I have to break to you-" began Caring.

Oh, thank Celestia!

"-but it's by far the most serious, so I'll have to ask you to brace yourself." she continued

Ah...shit...

"Go ahead," I said, my eyes closed and my mind ready (if there truly was such a thing) for recoil.

"Okay," she breathed, "Do you remember that little tool you had back in Trotfell? The one you used to disarm the mercenaries?"

"The Screwdriver?" I asked, surprised, "Of course I rememb- wait. Where is it!? Oh, Goddess, I haven't lost it have I!?"

"Eh...not as such, no," Caring said slowly, "To be honest, Compass...I doubt you'll have a problem finding it ever again..."

At first I squinted out of confusion at her words, but as the gears in my mind began to turn, I found myself looking slowly down at my mangled Pipbuck.

"Caring...?" I asked carefully, "Where's my Screwdriver...?"

"Well..." she continued begrudgingly, "Let me ask you this first - did you have it in your mouth at any point during your fight in the StableTec facility?"

My mouth!? What did that have to do with anything!? I broke eye contact, thinking back to my messy encounter with the Controller.

"Uh...yeah." I said after a brief jaunt down memory lane, "I was holding it in my mouth when the cyborg I fought exploded. Why? Is that import-...oh...oh, no way!"

My tongue flipped upwards in panic, searching the top of my mouth for anything peculiar. Sure enough, after a short fumble, I arrived at a disc of fresh, rough scar tissue in the centre of the roof.

"Caring, get me a mirror!" I shouted.

"Now that's definitely a bad idea!" she responded.

"Will you cut the crap and let me look at myself, dammit!" I continued, as my limbs strained noisily at their restraints.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you everything at once!" Caring muttered as she turned to leave, "We'll finish this off when you've calmed dow-"

"And just where the flying fuck do you think you're going!?" I interrupted, a blast of anger bellowing out to assault the unicorn before me, "Get your flank back in here and give. Me. A fucking. Mirror!"

"Compass!" responded Caring as she returned my aggression in kind, "You keep this up and I'll pump you so full of sedatives you won't know which way is up!"

"Oh fuck it all to Tartarus!" I screamed, "All I want is a Celestia-damned-...mirror..."

The argument between Caring and me stopped suddenly, far quicker than it had started - a small, hoofheld mirror, held aloft by the bright blue glow of unicorn magic, had floated into my field of view. That wasn't what had pacified us though - it was mutual shock!

In the mirror, I saw a pony staring back at me. A pony with a dark blue hide. A pony with an orange mane.

A pony with a horn.

"Congratulations..." gawked Caring, her eyes as wide a saucers at the sight of the glowing horn, "You've just cast your first levitation spell..."

It took Caring over twenty minutes to calm me down after that, during which time I used literally every profanity in my vocabulary to describe my situation. Somehow, in between my almost bipolar expressions of delight and dismay at my new 'appendage', Caring was able to further describe the ultimate fate of my Screwdriver.

Long story short: I fell on it.

At some point during my drop from the catwalk, I had hit something solid enough to drive the arcane tool, which I was carrying in my mouth the entire time, straight up through the roof of my mouth and out of my forehead (the pointy, unicorn horn-esque styling I had used for the new casing certainly helped it on its way). That was only the first part of the Screwdriver's miraculous (and gory) journey though. On its way through my frontal lobe, a torrent of Taint had found its way into the fresh wound and flowed freely into my cranial cavity, pooling between the Screwdriver's casing and my grey matter.

Now, either injury on their own would, or rather should, have been lethal. Hell, the combination of the two could have easily turned me into some sort of lobotomised mutant monstrosity. With the addition of the 'mysterious' third mutagenic process to the mix, however, my brain had responded in a fairly spectacular way - it had grown a third lobe.

A third lobe! Can you believe it!? My mutation had actually resulted in the spontaneous creation of my very own Arcane Cortex, the magic centre that sits at the base of every unicorn's horn. For all intents and purposes...I had just changed races! As wondrous as this was, my first few baby steps into 'unicorn-hood' weren't exactly what you'd call harmonious. For starters, my first spell was cast out of desperation and emotional turmoil - the need to grab a mirror despite my restraints was enough to elicit a small magical explosion from my horn (My horn! Never in a thousand years did I expect to be saying that!). As such, the remainder of Caring's explanation was punctuated by random flashes of blue light and an ethereal buzzing sound, usually followed by either flying scalpels or shattering beakers (fortunately, we were able to avoid any more bloodshed).

After a while it became clear that I had passed through the worst of my tantrum from earlier (and that I wasn't about to eat anypony), so Caring called a guard to release me from the hoofcuffs, and I was finally able to take a tentative step onto the floor. My legs wobbled profusely as I rose off of the bed, and it took me a number of minutes propped up on Caring's shoulder to find my hoofing. Once that was taken care of however, I noted a curious feeling spreading through my now unbound extremities; a feeling not unlike the one I had encountered after that initial exposure to the golden light in Stable 52. I was a ball of energy! Durable, flexible and fit as a fiddle! I felt as if I could go anywhere, anytime, right any wrong, solve any problem, and still be home in time for dinner!

I was also acutely aware that there was no time to lose! My memory and my motives had returned quickly to me once my physical condition was less of a concern. Back in the Stable, my friends - the only 'family' I had ever known - were under serious threat from the still anonymous Murderer. I quickly found my threadbare barding and engaged in a hurried rummage through the pockets (both the Edinbuck guard and Caring noticeably tensed at my sudden movements). I retrieved the Taint stained, magically warped remains of my notebook, and along with it, the key to regaining access to Stable 52. I turned to Caring, noting that the guard was giving the widest possible berth as I moved around.

"Caring," I said happily, as I forgot my wounds and embraced my mutation with worrying rapidity, "I need to talk to Sage - is he awake yet? I found what I was looking for in the StableTec facility! I can get back in-...wait...why did your face just drop when I mentioned Sage...?"

"Compass..." Caring began, "Sage is..."

"Oh no..." I whispered, a repulsive wave of nausea blasting me off my hooves "He's...he's dead...?"

"What!?" Caring exclaimed, "No! Don't jump to conclusions like that, you prat! He's been kidnapped!"

"Huh!?" I responded loudly, "What do you mean 'kidnapped'!? Who the hell would kidnap Sage?"

Caring raised an eyebrow and stood silently, waiting for me to put two and two together.

"The...Razors...?" I said as realisation dawned on me, "They came back!?"

"They must have heard about the attack," shrugged Caring, "And seen it as an opportunity to have another stab at Sage."

"Bastards..." I whispered, a rumble of rage coming to the boil in my stomach, "Did they hurt anypony?"

"It's funny you should mention that, actually," said Caring, "It was the weirdest thing - when they arrived, they were, well, polite."

"Polite...!?" I said slowly in surprise, "Are we talking about the same mercenaries here!?"

"Oh yes," nodded Caring, "In fact, their leader even asked for you by name, although she did call you 'The Doctor' for a while before one of her cohorts corrected her."

"Huh," I chuckled inwardly, "I guess I left quite the impression on that gryphon."

"'Impression' isn't the word I'd use," replied Caring, "'Traumatised' would probably be more apt."

"Well, whatever their mental state may be, I'm more interested in getting Sage back in one piece," I said, as a focussing determination came over me, "Where did they go and how do I get there?"

"Stone Tower's fortress," shuddered Caring, "It's not far from Edinbuck; maybe a day’s trot at most. You won't get in though."

"And why is that?" I asked, a list of required provisions already cycling through my mind.

"Are you even listening to me!?" Caring began, "I said they took him to Stone Tower's fortress! How easy do you think getting into a place with 'fortress' in its name will be!?"

"Easy enough," I replied cheekily, "Anyway, how bad can it be? The place is probably some decrepit, two hundred year old military base that took a direct hit during the war. It'll be a piece of-"

"It's a Stable," Caring said simply.

"Oh..." I replied, deflated, "Um...in that case...we may have to be a bit more sneaky than I'd originally planned."

"Compass," Caring said, a warning tone creeping into her voice, "Stone Tower's fortress is very well defended. The guards are all ruthless mercenaries, the surrounding areas are mined and, as well you know, the building itself is nigh on impenetrable! It can't be done!"

"Well then how the fuck do we get Sage back!?" I shouted as Caring's pessimism made my anger bubble over slightly.

"Simple," she said calmly, "We buy him. Stone Tower's obsessed with power and influence - we just have to get together enough wealth to buy back Sage."

"Caring, I can't express in words how bad that plan is," I said, "First of all, if this Stone Tower buck has gone to so much trouble to get a hold of Sage in the first place, what makes you think he'll put a price on getting him back? And secondly, if he does have an amount of caps or guns or whatever in mind, what makes you think we'll be able to pay it? From the sound of him, I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to bankrupt Trotfell in the process!"

"He probably will..." said Caring sadly, "He's always been jealous of Trotfell's success. Even his slave trading hasn't brought him the power he craves-"

"His what!?" I whispered throatily, "Did you just say 'slave trading'!?"

"Yeah," confirmed Caring, "Stone Tower is the biggest slave trader in Trottingham. Hasn't anypony told you?"

"I didn't even know there was such a thing out here!" I shouted, "There's no way in Tartarus I'm letting him keep that up!"

"And just how do you think you're going to stop him, huh?" scoffed Caring, "There's a reason he's still at it, Compass - he's too powerful to touch!"

"Everypony has a weak spot," I retorted, "He trades in slaves, right? Then why don't we just pretend to be buyers and sneak in that way."

"There's an entry fee for buyers of ten thousand caps." said Caring evenly.

"Alright..." I continued, my patience thinning, "What if we pretend to be selling?"

"You'll never find volunteers to pretend to be slaves," she said, "Out here, Compass, slavery's everypony's worst nightmare."

"Are you saying nopony would do it, even if it were to save Sage's life?" I asked.

"Th-that's not...I mean-," Caring stuttered, "You wouldn't get the numbers! Stone Tower buys in bulk - he's a supplier to Red Eye for Luna's sake!"

I nonchalantly raised the notebook to eye level, as Caring's argument collapsed piece by piece.

"I have thirty-two thousand friends that I'm about to liberate from a chemically induced prison," I said coolly, "I don't think numbers will be a problem."

At that, I grabbed my gear and trotted out of room, as Caring's eyes bored holes into my back.

"Hey," I whispered, "Hey, Buckshot. Wake up."

Buckshot lay before me, spread eagled on a hospital bed, snoring loudly. Mo was nowhere to be seen, and the rest of the ward was occupied by broken cabinets and mangled medical equipment, piled high at the far end.

"Mmmm...huh...?" Buckshot murmured groggily, "Ah, gonnae gimme some friggin' peace, Caring? Ah'm...so tired it's...untrue..."

At that, he rolled over again and resumed snoring. I rolled my eyes reflexively and give him a jab in the ribs.

"Buckshot!" I said loudly, "Get up!"

"Buck obb!" came the muffled response.

"If you don't get up right now I'll, uh, punish you!" I said (almost) forcefully, "Severely! With, uh, chains and...stuff! If that's...you know...okay with you..."

Buckshot's snoring suddenly tapered off to silence (much like my ultimatum had a moment earlier) and a pair of slit-like eyes slowly turned to regard me. It took a few seconds for them to gradually wedge themselves open, and for his irises to adjust to the ambient light level in the room.

"C-Compass...!" he whispered, "Ye'r...alive...!"

"Kind of," I smiled.

"Thank Celestia!" Buckshot shouted as he shot off of the bed and clamped me in a tight embrace. Our lips met in a dry, oddly flavoured kiss, and our tongues made a point of exploring each other's mouths (Buckshot's took the lead, of course). Almost instantly, I began to detect a familiar sweet tightness between my legs (and a similar hardness nuzzling my belly as Buckshot pressed himself up against me). We broke our contact to take a breath but Buckshot continued to hug me like a vice.

"Ah'm so happy yer okay!" he shouted, a discreet tear trickling down his cheek, "Ah had this awful dream that ye mutated into this great fuckin' monster wi' stingers and tentacles and ye...ye tried...tae...kill...me..."

As he spoke, his line of sight drifted upwards toward my new 'horn' and his eyes widened in realisation.

"Oh, Goddess...it...it wus real...wasn't it...!?" he whispered. I nodded gravely.

"How, uh...how are ye, um...feelin'...?" Buckshot asked cautiously.

"Surprisingly good actually," I smiled, "Even if my face does look like a lost a fight with a lawnmower."

Buckshot relaxed visibly as I joked, and very soon after, I got the impression that he had quickly accepted me once again as his friend, rather than as the lump of mutant flesh that had tried to eat him the day before.

"Does it...hurt?" he asked tentatively as I allowed him to inspect the buried Screwdriver, "It looks pretty painful."

"You would think so, but it's actually okay," I said, "It is a bit weird to have to get used to, but there are advantages."

"Such as?" said Buckshot as he continued to gently poke and prod my forehead.

"Weeeeell," I said, a coy smile forming on my face, "For one thing, I can use magic."

"...Whit!?" Buckshot said after a momentary pause, "How can ye use magic!? You're an earth pony!"

"Not anymore," I said, trying to not sound too happy about my outlandish injuries, "Caring tells me that I'm, uh...a bit different now."

"So...you're a unicorn...!?" gawked Buckshot.

"No," I said, "When I said different...I meant...like, really different."

I was worried that Buckshot would recoil or otherwise distrust me if he discovered just how much the Taint and the golden glow had changed me. Imagine my surprise when he put his forelegs around my neck and brought me into a close, intimate embrace.

"Just as long as y'er still you," he said, as his breath warmed my cheek.

"Thanks Buckshot," I sighed, closing my eyes in contentment.

The hug went on for several minutes before I remembered my original reason for waking my friend.

"Oh! Buckshot, I've just remembered! I need to tell you something!"

"Dinnae worry Compass, Ah already know," he said throatily.

"Y-you do!?" I gawked, "Then why the fuck haven't you done anything about it!?"

"A-Ah, uh...didnae think it wis appropriate...you know...Ah thought it wis...too soon..." he stammered, taken aback by my outburst.

"Too soon!?" I shouted, "Are you serious!? The quicker the fucking better!"

"Ah never expected ye to be so...aggressive!" said Buckshot, his eyes narrowing and a mischievous little grin splitting his lips, "Awrite then, how about we play a wee game? First one to come gets spanked! Hard!"

"Wh-whoa! Stop!" I shouted as Buckshot moved in for another giant kiss, "I don't have a clue what you're talking about!"

"Uh...y-ye don't...?" he replied (through still puckered lips), "So, uh...ye'r not lookin' to...you know...get a servicing...?"

"No!" I shouted, "I was going to tell you about Sage being kidnapped by Stone Tower while we were at the StableTec facility!"

The moment I completed my short summary of the situation, Buckshot's demeanour changed completely: his jaw clenched tightly as he bared his teeth, and his lungs filled with a breath of pure rage.

"WHAT!?" he roared, almost bowling me over, "Those mange-ridden, pigeon-faced bastards! We should've killed them all when we had the fuckin' chance!"

"My Goddess, Buckshot, calm down!" I shouted back, "We'll get Sage back, don't worry!"

"Fuckin' how!?" he roared again, as he began to pace the room, "Stone Tower has a damn fortress! How are we supposed to get inside!? Knock!?"

"I have a plan," I said, "But I sincerely doubt I'll be able to pull it off alone. I know it's a lot to ask considering what we've just been through...but can you and Mo lend a hoof!?"

"A plan!?" replied Buckshot, his voice still far too loud for normal conversation, "Grand! Of course Ah'll help! What's yer angle?"

"Great!" I grinned, as Buckshot's 'shooty' look spread across his face, "I'll tell you in a minute, but I want to find Mo first. Where is she?"

"The room across the hall," replied Buckshot, "Ah'll get ma gear ready."

At that, Buckshot turned and began strapping his saddle bags over his back while I trotted hastily out of his room and into the one he had indicated. As I entered, I noted that the bed covers were strewn across the floor, and they led me to a small adjoining room with a missing door plaque. In my haste, I pushed open the door and announced my presence with a hurried bark instead of my usual cheerful salutation.

"Mo!?" I shouted, as I barrelled into the small room, "Are you in-"

I was suddenly cut short by a shrill scream and bottle of drain cleaner flying into the side of my head.

"Ahhh!" shouted Mo from behind a neck-high wall halfway into the tiny room, "Get the fuck out of here!"

Oh Celestia, of course! What an idiot I was! Mo hadn't seen me since I'd tried to eat her and Buckshot! That fact, combined with my current appearance and the less than gentile entrance had clearly not endeared me to her.

"Mo! It's me, it's me!" I shouted, "There's no need to panic! I'm fine now - no stingers, no tentacles, no poison-"

"I know it's you, you freaking idiot!" she shouted, "I was screaming because just you barged into the sodding bathroom!"

"Bathroom...?" I mimicked, tilting my head in confusion. Sure enough, after a brief glimpse around the room's periphery, I was able to detect a medicine cabinet and a sink.

"Sorry," I said, "Didn't realise - I thought bathrooms usually all had toilets in them..."

"They do!" replied Mo loudly.

"Then where's-?" I began.

"I'm sitting on it!" she shouted back.

"Oh..." I said slowly, "Then you're..."

"Yes!" came the angry response.

"So I should-..."

"YES!"

I slinked quickly out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me and waiting outside. After a few seconds of embarrassed hoof twiddling, there was a flush and Mo returned from the bathroom, muttering angrily under her breath.

"Can't even take a piss in this place - some ponies - freaking numb-skull." she grumbled as she emerged.

I avoided eye contact and began to mumble another awkward apology, but Mo made a point of standing directly in front of me, forcing me to look up into her face.

"First of all," she began, as she threw a small book onto the bed, "Knock first next time!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," I said, "At least that little wall was-"

"And secondly," she continued, as her forelegs suddenly shot around my neck and drew me into a hug tighter than Buckshot's, "I'm so happy you're okay!"

Taken slightly aback by the rapidity of her mood swing, I was left momentarily lost for words.

"You should've seen you when we found you!" Mo began, "Oh, I thought you'd never pull through, but Buckshot shouted at me when I suggested we keep our distance, so we pulled you onto our backs and ran back to Edinbuck-"

"Mo, could you-?"

"-and we were just so tired when we got back, we couldn't stay with you! You don't blame us for that do you? And oh, you're head! I thought at the very least you'd be brain damaged but no! Here you are: good as new! You must have-"

"Mo, I can't-!"

"-regenerated! That's what Time Lords do when they're near death, you know! There's no other way you could have survived all those injuries! Have you got any more memories back!? Oh I can't wait to hear about the real adventures of-"

"MO! You're fucking suffocating me!"

"Oh!" she suddenly shouted, releasing me from her ropey vice grip. By Celestia, she was strong!

"Sorry about that. Heh heh..." she continued, smiling, "I'm just...really glad to see you."

"Good..." I panted, "...to know...!"

I caught my breath, and propped myself up on the bed. From where I was standing, I was able to make out the title of the book Mo had had in the bathroom with her.

"You...do crossword puzzles while you're on the toilet...?" I asked incredulously. Mo responded by tilting her head in disbelief.

"Of all the things we can talk about now, you choose that!?" she shouted back, "What about your recovery!? Or the Cyberponies!? Or the thousand and one other things that confirm your origins!?"

"Oh, not this again!" I groaned, as I planted my rump on the bed, "Mo, the last thing I want to talk about is...is...him!"

"But can't you see?" she asked, "You are him! The glowing confirms it once and for all! Like I said, it's this process called 'regeneration' where-"

"Hey!" I shouted, "How'd you know about that damned glow!?"

"We saw you fall," she replied, "Buckshot and I reached the edge of the catwalk just as it gave way. You were glowing like the sun, Doctor."

Mo realised her mistake a fraction of a second after she had made it, but by then it was far too late. A torrent of anger flushed my veins; every muscle, every sinew was suddenly tense with rage! I reared up on top of the bed and slammed my hooves into the ancient hospital room wall, causing a rain of decrepit plaster to shower the floor as a large crack parted the ceiling.

"THAT IS NOT MY NAME!" I screamed, my chest heaving, "I. AM. COMPASS!"

I turned back to Mo in a flash hoping for a fight, or at the very least, an argument. Anything through which to further vent my outburst! Instead, however, I saw that my pegasi companion had been rooted to the ground in shock, and that she was literally shaking. Her breathing had slowed to an inaudible whisper, and her mouth was hanging open.

In short, I was pretty sure I'd just scared the living crap out of her.

My empathy chose that moment to kick in, and I began to feel the urge to reel in my anger. I started consciously controlling my breathing, forcing the rage back down inside me as I gently dismounted the bed. Mo backed away, still shocked by my outburst, so I resorted to once again sitting in the edge of the mattress, my head in my hooves.

"I'm...sorry, Mo," I whispered, as tears began to stream down my cheeks, "Sometimes I...I mean it's hard for me to..."

A foreleg wrapped itself around my shoulders and held me tightly. I looked up to find Mo sitting beside me, silently willing me to continue.

"I...I'm scared Mo," I said in a whimper, "He's in here; in me! Before it was easy to say where I started and he stopped, but now..."

As I began to weep, Buckshot gingerly stepped into the room (no doubt summoned by the sounds of my explosive temper) and assumed a position next to me on the bed. His foreleg joined Mo's as he placed his shotgun on the mattress behind us.

"Tell us," he whispered, as his scent made its way into my nostrils and made me melt with feelings of safety and warmth.

"We'll help," said Mo, completing Buckshot's sentiment.

With a vast blanket of support and comfort surrounding me, I broke down in a fit of tears and self pity.

"I...I'm not even an equine anymore!" I shouted, my personal shields dropping rapidly, "I grew my own fucking Arcane Cortex! I absorbed the Screwdriver and a Celestia-damned armour plate! Ponies aren't supposed to be able to do that! And to top it all, Caring says I have two hearts! Two! Knowing my luck, that's bound to be a 'Time Lord' thing, isn't it?"

Mo met my gaze, but remained silent, confirming my fears with her sad expression. She opened her mouth a moment later and smiled awkwardly.

"Well," she said cautiously, "Let's look on the bright side. At least your cutie mark's still your own..."

I smiled back, twisting my rump just far enough to view my flank. The sight of my warped, yet still very much individual, cutie mark was a surprisingly encouraging sight.

Until Mo saw it, that is. Her eyes widened in surprise and she gasped loudly, covering her snout with her hoof to try and conceal her reaction.

"Oh no..." I groaned, "Don't tell me-..."

A gentle, apologetic nod was the response. I sighed loudly, bringing my hooves up to cover my face. The dark little room descended into silence as a heavy, oppressive dread settled onto my shoulders. A broken pipe somewhere in the bowels of the ruined hospital dripped out a metronome beat as my mind ticked over in dismay.

One drip, two drips, three drips, four....

Five drips, six drips, seven drips, more...

Buckshot's voice shattered the quiet as he gingerly began to speak:

"Compass," he whispered, "Ah hate tae say, but...don't you think there's something a wee bit more...pressing tae deal wi'...?"

By Celestia! How could I have been so selfish!?

"Holy shit!" I shouted as I shot to my hooves, making my friends jump in surprise, "I forgot about Sage!"

"My Dad!?" Mo responded loudly, "What did you forget!? What's wrong with him!?"

"The Razors came back," I said, "Stone Tower finally got his hooves on him while we were at the StableTec facility!"

"WHAT!?" she screamed, springing off of the bed towards me, "You forgot that!? How could you possibly-"

"It's not like I meant it!" I said defensively as she approached, "I've had a lot to deal with today! Besides, I've already got a plan in mind to get him back."

"You'd better!" Mo shouted, "After all, it's your fault that we're out here! If it wasn't for you-"

"You'd be dead..." interjected Buckshot, cutting off her tirade before it gained any more momentum. Mo's expression suddenly softened as she realised what she was saying, and her mouth opened and closed a number of times as she fought for her next sentence.

I didn't give her words a second thought - there were too many ways in which I knew she was right, and the last thing I needed was more to obsess about. Instead, I quickly relayed my plan to Buckshot and Mo. They hated it to begin with, and only came to dislike it more as I continued, but the fact of the matter was that neither of them had anything better in mind. As such, they both reluctantly agreed to go along with my scheme, and at that, we grabbed our equipment, purchased a sackfull of provisions and made our way out of Edinbuck.

Our journey back to Stable 52 was, once again, a quiet one. We were developing a nasty habit of picking a direction and trotting towards it, without making any attempt at conversation. Oh, how I longed for a way to instantaneously travel between two points!

We discovered very quickly that in our haste to retrieve Sage, we had departed Edinbuck in the early evening, and so were forced to bunk down for the night when we neared Eagle Ridge. Buckshot set up a campfire and Mo unrolled a trio of portable bed mats while I rummaged through our supplies to find dinner. For some reason, we had over forty boxes of Instamash, so I naturally started preparing a hearty feast of two hundred year old freeze-dried potato. Buckshot recoiled at the sight of the blue and white boxes, saying that he needed something (or indeed anything) with a bit more kick. He trotted off, shotgun in hoof, as the sky began to dull. The silence that suddenly existed between me and Mo was something I had been both expecting and dreading - it was...awkward, and acutely unpleasant. Fortunately, Mo must have sensed it too, since she began to speak before the discomfort had time to settle.

"Listen," she said, "About what I said earlier...I was angry...and I, uh, spoke before I thought...sorry."

I turned to face her as I readied an appropriate response.

"It's okay," I replied, "I already knew it was my fault, Mo. I was just...ignoring it. You have nothing to apologise for."

Mo rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation as she continued.

"Oh, don't start that again," she said, "Wallowing never got anypony anywhere. True, it can quite good in small doses as a coping mechanism, but right now you're just taking the piss!"

"What do you mean 'taking the piss'!?" I said, my brow furrowing, "You were absolutely right! I am the reason that Sage is in danger. Lest we forget I'm also the reason Zeanna and all the other Trotfell guards are no longer with us! I'm a walking harbinger of death! All that's missing is the scythe!"

Mo regarded me gently in the light of the small campfire, the warm, orange glow softening her features through an interplay of shadow and colourful flickers.

"You're also the reason that I'm alive. Lest we forget that..." she said, mimicking me, "And I doubt Buckshot's ever been this happy before. It's almost as if you're refusing to see the good you do in favour of keeping track of the bad."

"Isn't that important though?" I asked.

"Yes," replied Mo, "But you're not meant to have it as a constant thought running in the back of your mind. It's not healthy."

I ran my tongue around my teeth as I considered what she had just said. I recognised quickly that her question was valid - what was the point in beating myself up like this?

To remember all that you've cost others, a small voice said within me.

I mused on Mo's words for a moment longer, trying to fashion an appropriate response, but before I could reply verbally, a radscorpion suddenly flopped into view between us. We both responded instantly: Mo somersaulted backwards, catching herself with her wings at the halfway point and rising gracefully into the air as she simultaneously readied her rifle. I, on the other hoof, screamed loudly and tumbled backwards off of the rock I had been sitting on, landing upside down, directly in front of Buckshot's giggling form.

"That was not funny," Mo said, realising that the giant arthropod had failed to show any signs of life, "I could have shot somepony!"

"Watching you two crap yerselves is worth a bullet in the flank," he chortled, as he sat down at the campfire, "So, who's hungry?"

"Euch!" wretched Mo, as Buckshot pulled a survival knife from his saddlebags and began to dismember the dead creature before us, "I'm not going anywhere near that!"

"Eh, suit yerself," replied Buckshot with a shrug, "Compass?"

"You're...eating...an animal...!?" I said, dumbfounded, "But...but...we have mash..."

"Fuck yer mash," he said, as a mouthful of radscorpion meat made its way into his maw, "Stuff's disgustin'. I'll take meat over that crap any day!"

I returned my attentions quickly to the InstaMash, wide eyed at the spectacle taking place just a few feet to my left. After mixing the powdery substance with a few bottles of purified water and then heating it over the fire, Mo and I tucked into a viscous, chalky gloop that looked entirely unlike the 'serving suggestion' on the box. Less than five minutes later, the radscorpion was being shared between three, and I was considering a research project to see whether or not InstaMash could be used as an industrial sealant. Conversation blossomed as we ate, no doubt as a result of the fire's warmth and the increase in our blood sugar levels. We talked briefly about the plan, although at that point there were so many unknowns that all our discussion did was flag up how stupid it still sounded. We eventually arrived (through a labyrinth of general conversational topics) to the subject of each other’s pasts. It quickly became clear that I had a very different upbringing to my two companions.

Where they were born in Wasteland communities, I was birthed from a high-tech genetic recombinator pod.

Where they first learned to fire weapons, I first learned to solve equations.

Where their had their first kisses, I had...well, nothing.

The thing that really creeped them out though, was my lack of a belly button - having been birthed artificially, my life functions were supported by localised intravenous injections. I explained the operation of the Pods as well, using a bag of little pony-shaped jellies I'd bought in an effort to make the process seem a bit more 'normal' to them. It didn't really work though - they just made fun of my featureless underside. Enjoyable as the exchange was, I couldn't help but check my flank every so often, hoping upon hope that my original magic mark would reappear. I could see that it was concerning my friends as well - on more than one occasion, I was able to catch a concerned glance as it shot between Buckshot and Mo. Inevitably, the conversation turned towards me, although not in the coddling fashion I expected:

"Will you stop staring at your arse!?" blurted Buckshot suddenly, "Ah know it's cute an' all, but now ye'r just being vane!"

I chuckled at that - a bit of humour can go a long way when you're down.

"Sorry, Buckshot," I said, "I just...can't believe that my mark...has turned into his. It's as if the Doctor's influence saves my life one moment, and tries to steal it the next! I mean, look at me! I've already started to look like him! Soon I'll be acting like him as well!"

"I doubt he had the 'horn' that you do," said Buckshot, a little more seriously, "That's a plus."

"And at least you don't sound like him," Mo added, "You've got that as well."

"True," I nodded, turning to her as she spoke. I smiled at her attempts to comfort me while swallowing the chewed remains of a sweet. As I ferried an additional confection into my mouth, I suddenly realised that I'd been hoarding them since removing them from the supply bag.

"Oh, sorry," I said, as an almost imperceptible catch in my throat deepened my voice slightly, "Would you like a jelly filly?"

Mo froze, her eyes wide as saucers. She stated at me for a time before swallowing uneasily. I knew that face. I knew it all too well by now.

"Oh what now!?" I asked, my despondency with my situation turning quickly into aggravation.

"Uh...n-nothing," said Mo, as I noticed that Buckshot was keeping very quiet as well. They didn't have to explain anything - the writing, as they say, was on the wall. And just like that, we were back to the harsh Wasteland silence, softened only by the crackle of the ebbing campfire.

We sat for about five minutes, avoiding one and other's lines of sight. I would have let it continue, were it not for the fact that I actually preferred laughing and eating with a group of friends to sitting in awkward, fearful silences.

"Mo?" I asked, breaking the sound embargo without turning my head, "How'd you get your cutie mark?"

She turned to face me, her brow slightly furrowed.

"Uh...why?" she asked, "I thought that that was a sensitive issue at the moment. Are you sure you want to talk about it?"

"Well I asked didn't I?" I replied, annoyed, "I'm just...sick and tired of being afraid of him. I want to stop dreading the sight of my own flank, and I figured it would be good to, well, embrace a few things..."

Mo's head rotated a little as she regarded me. Clearly, neither she nor Buckshot had been expecting this of all things to come up in conversation.

"And you think that talking about cutie marks will help?" she asked slowly.

"It sure as Tartarus beats an awkward silence," I said with an angry shrug.

Another glance was exchanged between my companions, followed by a pair of reluctant nods.

"Alright," Mo said quietly, as she settled onto her bed mat, "My cutie mark came to me in the middle of the night, about a week before my ninth birthday."

The sounds around the camp softened noticeably as Mo started to speak, her calming tone demanding my attention as her story continued. I felt my heart(s) beating slower and slower as if her voice was the only sound in the Wasteland that mattered.

"I was on one of my first scavenging trips with Dad, and we had found a transmitter station about six hours trot south of Trotfell. Inside, the place was badly damaged, and a section of the roof was missing just inside the entrance. Since it was so small, Dad said it would be okay if we split up - we'd only be a couple of rooms apart if anything went wrong - so he went elsewhere while I started looking through the drawers and cabinets in the recording studio for salvage."

There was something about Mo's voice; her tone, her intonation patterns - they were...hypnotic. I felt myself being drawn further and further into her story the more she spoke.

"In one of the desks, I found an old TBC holotape, labelled 'Doctor Whooves and the Selenite Menace - rehearsal copy'. I'd only heard a couple of other Doctor Whooves stories at this point in my life, but it had already become one of my favourites. Naturally, I wasn't willing to wait on us getting back to Trotfell, so I ran into the recording booth, pulled the back off of one of the terminals and fed in the tape."

Mo's eyes had become visibly watery as her tale progressed, and her gaze was indirectly centred on the heart of the campfire. She was somewhere else entirely.

"I listened to the voices on the tape, and I felt so...so...comforted. It was like listening to the past - the cast were happily going about their daily business; reading through their scripts, laughing at one and other's mispronunciations and blunders. There was a...warmth to it all; a fellowship - like I was there with them, a recording engineer, or maybe an extra with only a couple of lines. Anyway, I had just settled down in the glow of the monitor to listen, when this one voice got my attention. I gathered that she was the writer of the series, and that was surprising, seeing as how all I'd ever managed to uncover about her was her pseudonym. It wasn't her presence that intrigued me, though - it was her words. You see, she was talking about the Doctor not as an author talks about a character, but as a pony talks about a dear, old friend. Like...like he was real. The actors must have been used to it, because nopony pointed it out, and nopony tried to correct her. You can't imagine the epiphany I had that night: what if the Doctor - a pony with the power to save whole worlds - was real...? I felt such hope; such safety in those thoughts! And I wanted that feeling for everypony in the Wasteland, regardless of whether they were friend or foe!"

Passions were rising within me; like they clearly were in Mo. My hearts (I swear, I'll never get used to that) were beating faster, blood rushing through my veins as my hooves clenched the ground in anticipation of the story's climax.

"And then, just as I thought the moment couldn't be any more perfect, a shaft of light came down upon me. I looked up, and gasped at the beauty of what I saw..."

I was leaning so far in at this point, I feared that I would topple forwards onto my face. As I edged further and further forward, Mo suddenly turned toward me, a fiery glare in her eyes, eliciting a gasp from both Buckshot and me.

"The moon," she said, her breathing ragged and her voice serious beyond all doubt, "Luna herself shone down on me that night, in spite of the scorched sky. I saw the wonder of the gleaming lunar surface and I saw the majesty of the twinkling stars above! In that perfect moment, I knew what my destiny was! In that perfect moment, I realised that I would find the Doctor! And in that perfect moment," she continued, as her voice diminished to a whisper, "I got my cutie mark."

I let out a breath I didn't even realise I had been holding as Mo's expression returned to normal.

"Wow..." I whispered, looking to Buckshot, as the enraptured look on his face diminished, "Good story..."

"Heh, thanks," Mo smiled, as she looked to her flank. I followed her gaze, and found that it ended at her cutie mark: a white crescent moon with a small, blue rectangle seemingly in the process of whizzing around it.

"So...?" Mo asked expectantly, "Who's next?"

"Hm?" I said, as I snapped back to looking at her face rather than her bottom, "What did you say?"

"Who's next?" Mo repeated, "You know, to tell their cutie mark story. You needn't think I'm going to be the only one!"

"Well, you know how I got mine," I said, as buckshot sighed loudly behind me, "A cocktail of Taint, lasers and a few doses of 'magic-golden-glowing-Doctor-radiation'."

"No, your first cutie mark," Mo elaborated, "The one that's about you, not the Doctor. Forget him for now, and tell us about Compass, Compass."

I blinked in surprise. Mo telling me to not talk about the Doctor!? What madness was this!?

"Uh...okay," I said, as I smiled widely and nodded, "Um...well...I suppose it all started when I was in school. You see, in Stable 52, there's a period of rapid education that all new personnel undergo just after being birthed. I was staying late one night in the terminal room to finish an assignment I'd, uh, forgotten about, when I realised that I'd skipped dinner. I don't work well on an empty stomach, so I locked my terminal and went to grab a snack. On my way to the vending machine though, I was stopped by the sound of...crying."

Mo and Buckshot listened attentively as I told my story, and I felt myself relaxing more than ever before around them.

"I poked my head into the room it was coming from," I continued, "And found a buck called Aqua Vita inside. He had his heads in his hooves, sobbing over a keyboard like there was no tomorrow."

"He wasn't...he wasn't about to be...?" Mo asked, a concerned look on her face.

"I'm afraid so," I said slowly, "When I met him, he was 19 years, 11 months...and thirty days old. He had less than twenty-four hours left to finish his work - his life's work - before the end."

"His life's work!?" gasped Mo, "What was the problem?"

"Well, it didn't work for starters," I replied, "He was working on some sort of advanced control program; said it would remove the need for manual pipework control forever, freeing up a whole division of technicians for other projects. He'd been writing it for over three quarters of his life, and it still didn't work."

"Shit..." whispered Mo.

"Indeed" I answered, "Anyway, I figured he could use some company, so I shared my apple crisps with him and offered to take a look. He chuckled nervously and started swearing at himself under his breath, racking up demerit after demerit on his Pipbuck. As I cast my eyes over his terminal, it became apparent to me that he was so busy focussing on his problems that he'd actually started to forget even the simplest of things."

"A caret?" smiled Mo.

"A caret," I replied, "The error was bang slap in the middle of the screen - clear as day. So, I leaned over, tapped shift + 6 and hit run on the interpreter."

"And...?" said Mo.

"And..." I continued, "It worked. When the interpreter returned no errors he started crying far more profusely than before. I was actually worried he was leaking at first - but then he jumped off of his seat and hugged me again and again, getting tighter each time, thanking me richly in between squeezes. Being so 'young', I didn't realise what it had meant to him, nor could I properly gauge just how strong his emotional response was. Something I was able to gauge however was how good I felt for making somepony that happy. In helping him solve his problem, I had discovered a feeling of deep fulfilment and...well, contentment within myself. With that simple, innocuous act of kindness, I found that which made me truly happy, I found my purpose...and I found my cutie mark."

Mo half-smiled as I finished my tale - something was on her mind.

"Not what you expected?" I asked.

"Hm?" she answered, "Oh, no, it's not that. Your story was great - it's exactly what I expected from you. It's just...that buck you mentioned, Aqua Vita...did he...?"

"Yeah..." I nodded solemnly, "It was his time, Mo. As far as he knew, he didn't have any control over when he died. In Stable 52 you get twenty years. That's all."

Mo mirrored my nodding gesture, indicating her comprehension. Nevertheless, her face still bore an expression of deep sorrow for my long lost acquaintance. To be honest, I knew exactly what she was thinking - ever since Caring Heart had discovered the artificial limitations placed upon me and my Stablemates by our Pipbucks, my world view had undergone some pretty major changes. The main one being my realisation that many of my friends who had been recycled in the past few years would still be with us, were it not for their being confined to the Stable.

Before a combination of rage and depression could make me ill, I broke the soft silence that had descended on the camp. Turning to Mo, I smiled broadly:

"Ah well," I said, in my best fake happy voice, "No point in us moping, now is there?"

Mo scoffed at me, amused.

"You're one to talk!" she said as she chuckled, "But you are right, at least. We should keep talking, focus on the good rather than the bad!"

"Agreed," I said, "How about we round off for the night with a final cutie mark tale? I'd be pretty interested in learning how Buck-"

"No," came a heavily accented bark. Mo and I turned to observe its source - our Coltish companion - with looks of confusion on our faces.

"Sorry?" I asked, "'No' what?"

"No, as in y'er no gettin' ma cutie mark story," said Buckshot slowly.

"And why not?" asked Mo indignantly, "We told you ours!"

"Your choice," replied Buckshot, "I didnae ask ye tae tell me anythin'."

"Oh come on," I said back, "How bad can...it...be...?"

Buckshot turned his head to stare at me, looking into my eyes with what was quite possibly the most serious expression I'd ever seen.

"Bad..." he said simply, "How rosy do ye think the story behind a shotgun shell cutie mark is gonnae be?"

Mo and I looked at one and other for a moment as we visually shared some emotions. If my facial-expression-ese was up to scratch, we basically communicated our mutual unwavering support for whatever horror Buckshot had lived through in order to find his mark. We nodded to each other to end the silent exchange and turned back to him.

"Well, I still want to hear it," I said.

"Me too," mirrored Mo, "It's important that you share these things with others so that-"

"Ah don't. Want. Tae talk about it!" replied Buckshot forcefully, "Will ye just drop it!?"

"We didn't drop the last thing you tried to withhold," I said after a moment, "And look how well that turned out. Think of how much better you felt after we had that conversation in the StableTec facility."

"Ah- Ah don't...It's just...fuck..." stuttered Buckshot as my logic became clear to him. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, only reopening them when he had braced himself for what was to come.

"Awrite..." he whispered, "But only because ye said ye'd be supportive...Ah've never told anypony this before..."

Mo and I leaned in expectantly, smiling in recognition of the trust he was investing in us.

"Ah was born in a walled community less than a tenth the size of Trotfell, up in the Highlands near the old city of Dunlock," he began, "Mah mother wis the town's head guard, and mah father wis on the medical staff at the local hospital. Ah suppose ye'd say we were a sort of...frontier town - arse end o' nowhere, aff the main trader's routes, nothin' around for miles. An' when ye'r as isolated as we were, ye get a lot o' ponies thinkin' ye'll be easy prey."

Buckshot took a breath, staring off into the distance as he continued to recant his personal history to us.

"There wis this band o' raiders ye see," he said, a catch forming in his throat, "They gave us a lot o' trouble, but mah Ma, she...she always fought them aff! Until...until this one night..."

Tears were starting to pool at the corners of his eyes, but he gritted his teeth and soldiered on regardless. A flood gate had been opened in his mind somewhere, and he wasn't going to stop until the dam of his memory had been drained.

"They...they got inside the walls," he said, as the catch returned, distorting his strong voice, "Ah wis...asleep...when I heard the first screams. Ma and Dad grabbed their gear tae go an' help, but it wis...it wis too late. They had numbers, they had guns and they had the element o' surprise...we were nae match fer them..."

Tears streamed freely down Buckshot's face as my own tear ducts began to moisten.

"Ma wis the first tae go down - hit by a sniper. Dad wasnae too far behind...he ended up wi' a knife in his back while tryin' tae bandage up another medic. And then there wis me...on mah own...about tae meet a short, blood-stained death. Except...there wis this shotgun...lying on the ground. Ah don't know who dropped it...hell, Ah could barely even lift it...but it was enough. I grabbed a box o' shells from mah mother's corpse and...started pulling the trigger. Ah felt so...so free...everypony Ah ever knew or loved lay dead or dyin' around me, but Ah was suddenly...separate...fae all the chaos. The raiders fell one by one, all o' them straying too close tae me and mah shotgun. With that box of shells, Ah avenged mah parents, mah friends and mahself! An' then...when all the smoke had cleared...I realised I was the only one left - the entire settlement had been wiped out, raiders an' all..."

Buckshot suddenly stopped and tried to take a steadying breath, but all it served to do was accentuate the growing catch in his throat.

"I fell tae the ground," he continued quickly, "Wailin' up at the Goddess for over an hour. When Ah eventually came tae mah senses and went tae pick mahself up, Ah noticed I'd gained my mark. A mark of pain...and...and vengeance, that wis forever mine, and mine alone, to bear. And with that grim wee piece o' knowledge firmly in hoof...I trotted out into the Wasteland."

Oh, Celestia, how I wished he'd kept that to himself! Mo and I were crying more than Buckshot - we had no idea, simply no clue, what he had gone through. All we could do at that point was try (and I stress try) to give him the support we'd promised only a moment earlier. Mo was the first to approach, wrapping her forelegs around Buckshot's shoulders as their tears merged in a tight embrace. I followed suit, joining them on the opposite side. We stayed that way for several minutes, and then several hours, falling gently into sleep's embrace.

Footnote: LEVEL UP!

New perk added: Tainted
Taint has made its way into your body, giving you a strange new lease on life. You are now 20% more RAD resistant.

New perk added: Adamantium skeleton
With the Adamantium Skeleton perk, your limbs only receive 50% of the damage they normally would.

New perk added: Lord of Time
Biologically, you now resemble a Time Lord more than you do an Equestrian. Two hearts, powers of regeneration and knowledge of the cosmos grant you a bonus of 1 to your INT and AGL stats. Crafted items now also have the prefix 'Gallopfreyan' and are granted increased effectiveness and durability.

Sonic Screwdriver removed; Sonic Horn added

New Sonic setting: U1 - Levitate
Your first spell. Well done, little colt - have a cookie. You can now levitate physical objects that weigh less than 2kg for up to 20 seconds.