Fallout Equestria: Wastelanders

by Salted Pingas

"Oaths" by Salted Pingas

Title: Oaths
Author: Salted Pingas
“Cross my heart and hope to fly! Stick a cupcake in my eye...”

The blue pegasus awoke with a soft groan as somepony tugged gently at her hind leg. Her crusty eyes cracked open for only a second before she mashed them shut again, a grimace spilling across her face. Whatever stupid hijinks she’d partaken in after liberty call last night had left her feeling sore all over, like she’d been trampled. Had she gotten blackout drunk in a mosh pit again? She certainly felt hungover enough and her dry lips cracked as her tongue darted out to lick them.

Something like pins and needles shot up her hind leg as somepony tugged at it again. Her bleary mind suggested it was her mother and she accepted it as fact. It made sense that she would crash at her mom’s place after the wild night, though the bed beneath her felt too stiff to be the one in her foalhood bedroom. She chocked that up to her sore and sorry state, or maybe she’d only made it to the couch before crashing for the night.

“Mm,” she mumbled, brow furrowing as she grumbled at her pained state, “Just a few more minutes, mom…” She shifted in the stiff bed, trying to find a more comfortable position to hopefully snag another few minutes of shut-eye. She knew it had to be the weekend since she never got drunk before duty. Air Sergeant Touch’n Go had yelled at her senselessly the first few times and she’d never done so since.

“Hold still, please.” A buck’s voice spoke up from behind her.

The pegasus stiffened at the unfamiliar voice, her wings snapping up in alarm and her crusty eyes cracking open. Her stiff neck elicited another soft groan as she turned her head and saw where she was. Reality felled her illusions in a single, swift blow.

The walls were made from hard drywall, cracked and flaking with age. The mattress was taut fabric and old stuffing on a stiff, wooden platform. Her body wasn’t stiff from partying, it was stiff from wartime wounds taken below the clouds during Operation Cauterize.

And the buck had a glowing horn sticking up from his scalp, his magic ensnaring her leg.

The pegasus’ heart skipped a beat, her breath hitching as terrible fear overcame her. The nightmarish lessons and briefings she’d had to attend above the clouds all came back to her at once. Unicorns fueled their foul magics by drinking the blood of noble pegasi, using dark necromancy to hide their disfigurements in a sick sense of vanity. They were only better than earth ponies in that they didn’t eat their even-numbered foals or squalor about in their own filth.

Now one of the foul creatures had captured her! What was he going to do?! Pull off her leg and drink her gushing blood?! Or would he torture her first, make her scream?! Make her his sex slave?! And when he was done would he dump her out in the radioactive wastes and watch her skin peel off?! Or perhaps he might just decide to...to...slowly unravel the bandage on her hind leg to check the wound beneath...

Wait, what?

She could almost feel the spinning gears in her brain seize up as the wasteland pony peered over a long, scabbing laceration on her hind leg. His jowls didn’t drip with hungry saliva and his gaze stayed professionally away from her feminine parts. His movements were, in fact, gentle as he resecured the bandage after a satisfied nicker.

“I’d feared you might not wake up,” The pegasus flinched when the unicorn spoke to her, the cogworks of her mind only just starting to spin back up. He frowned at her alarmed state, taking a slow step back to give her some room. “Don’t be frightened, I’m not going to hurt you.” He tried to reassure her, placing a tan hoof against his breast, “I’m doctor Chardonnay, you can call me Dr. Char if that’s easier. May I ask how you’re feeling?”

As well meaning as his words were, they did little to put the pegasus’ mind at ease. The gears of her mind were turning again, but now at an alarming speed as she tried to fully process her situation. Her dark blue eyes remained firmly locked onto Dr. Char’s own red-orange pair as her mouth opened and closed a few times, but words failed her.

Dr. Char’s frown turned thoughtful for a moment before he tried again.

“Sky Bloom?” The pegasus flinched when he spoke, “Is that you name?”

Sky nodded shakily, licking her dry lips again, “H-how did you know?” She finally managed to stutter as her mind settled on the simple context of the question. Was he telepathic? Could he read her thoughts!? Could he use mind control powers!?

“Your ID tags.” He managed a small smile as he broke through her mental lockdown. Sky squirmed when he ignited his horn again, unease spreading across her face, “It’s all right, it’s all right,” he tried to calm her, unbuttoning a back pocket on his barding. “Here.” He floated her jangling ID tags slowly through the air.

“Oh…” Sky managed, feeling stupid. Of course he’d known her name. That was the whole point of wearing ID tags! After a moment she built up the courage to take her ID tags in a shaky wing, snatching them from the golden glow of his magic. She slipped them carefully over her head, glancing down as they settled around her neck.

With her eyes drawn downwards she grimaced at the sorry state of her power armor strewn about the base of the bed. The sight of it was like a sudden buck to the head, her eyes shooting wide. Her breath came in sudden, hitching gasps again as her gaze darted about the room without seeing anything, wings wringing themselves at her sides, “M-m-my squad!”

Darkness had settled upon Rallypoint Rodeo-7. Casualties had come streaming in and they’d suddenly lost communications with the vertibuck flying medevac. Wingpony Recruit Sky Bloom had been putting her cutie mark and training to good work as a combat medic, though their supplies were quickly dwindling. Her gorge rose up in her throat when she remembered the sudden ambush, bullets and grenades flying in from all directions. Their medical officer, Ensign Wingbeat, had gone down right in front of her, his yellow dot disappearing from her armor’s E.F.S. She’d returned fire blindly with her lunasurge carbines, the tactile thrumming in her wing working in tandem with the streaks of deadly energy spitting out.

But then the ground had risen up beneath her, her world becoming blurry and silent as she saw the dark sky then the dark ground. Her breath had gone out of her when she crashed back down, forcing her to gasp painfully for air as debris rained down around her. Her vision flickered with her E.F.S. as it fed her red messages she couldn’t read, the armor status indicator colored black. Yellow dots of friendlies had flashed past her vision, but a coppery taste in her mouth had strangled back her cries of help. Then red dots had begun filling her E.F.S. and a cruel shape had appeared before her and she had known nothing more.

“Sky Bloom? Ms. Sky Bloom?” Sky gave a short shriek with Dr. Char’s worried face so close to her own, pressing her wounded body back into the wall. She whimpered and gasped, shaking until he stepped back again, “Sorry,” his words were sincere, his gestures placating as he continued, “I thought you might be going into shock, you’ve got a mild concussion on top of your other wounds.” He gestured to her body, but her feral gaze remained locked on his face. He frowned, his hoof settling back down as he cleared his throat, “Griffin talons and pony resistance fighters ambushed and overran your position. Some of them played it a little loose with the laws of war concerning wounded enemies...” he turned his gaze away for a moment, “...you were one of three pegasi who were still alive when I arrived. I’m sorry to say that we couldn’t save the other two. I managed to stabilize your wounds and get you back to my village for further treatment.”

Tears began to build in Sky’s eyes, her hitching breath turning to soft sobs as she settled stiffly back down into the bed. She hid her face behind her wings, body wracking quietly as her mind digested the information. They were all dead, her entire squad if not her entire platoon. Ponies she’d eaten lunch with, one or two she’d cuddled with, all of them gone now.

Dr. Char grew uncomfortable at the mare’s distress, wanting to step forwards and comfort her. But after her last reaction to his close presence, he let out a sigh and remained where he was.

“I’m a prisoner of war…” Sky finally managed to murmur, wiping at her eyes with a wing.

“Actually, the war’s over. You’re just my patient,” Dr. Char spoke up quickly, seeing an opportunity to quell her worries, “You can go home as soon as you’re up for it.” He gestured to the remains of her armor scattered beneath the bed, “Had some trouble getting you out of your power armor. If it wasn’t broken in the ambush it was when we popped you out of it. Could probably give you a pair of old saddlebags, let you take some of the stuff we salvaged from the site. Don’t want to just send you out naked into the wind.”

“The war is…” she fixated on his first words, teary eyes finding his face and then the window behind him. Her body went stock still at the sight of unadulterated sunlight pouring through, “There’s sunlight coming in through your window…” her voice was suddenly very small, a knot in her throat trying to strangle the words down. If there was sunlight in the wasteland...

“There is,” Dr. Char nodded with a glance to the window.

“It’s all gone, then? All the cloud cover?” Sky cast her gaze to the floor. What had happened? Were all her friends and family homeless now? Were they all dead like her squad? She couldn’t be the last pegasus alive, could she?

“Lightbringer’s not that cruel.” Dr. Char shook his head, thinking for a moment, “Nothing’s for sure, but the airwaves say about half of it’s gone. Twenty-something of the S.P.P. towers shot out sonic rainbooms and cleared out a bunch of the cloud cover.”

“Fuck,” Sky said bitterly, fighting back another burst of tears.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds.” He took a cautious step towards her, his tone reassuring, “There’s still a good chunk of real estate up there. The Lightbringer wasn’t trying to displace or kill any pegasi, just get them to look down and see that it’s not so bad down here, hopefully start to reintegrate everypony back into wasteland society.”

“B-but we can’t live down here!” Sky thought back to her training, “The radiation! The taint! The monsters!”

“All of those are avoidable once you figure out the lay of the land.” Dr. Char said with a frown, “How do you think the rest of us manage?”

“B-but you-you eat each other!” She’d had to take annual training on this for wind’s sake! Pegasi couldn’t live beneath the clouds! It was a well-known fact! “You drink pegasus blood an-and use necromancy to-to hide your disfigurements!”

“What?” Dr. Char’s head tilted like she’d started speaking in tongues.

“W-we have government-mandated training on this!” She fell back on her training, worry spreading across her face at his odd looks. “It’s what they tell us…” but the words sounded weak even before they left her lips now that she was actually down here. This pony had taken her in, healed her wounds, kept her safe...he couldn’t really be a monster, could he?

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever had the urge to drink blood,” Dr. Char continued to look perplexed as he worked through her accusations. “It would make a terrible food source. Mostly water, not many nutrients, and necromancy to cure what now? Disfigurements?” The idea seemed to baffle him, “Even if I was…” he paused to look over himself, “...disfigured, how would that even work? Necromancy only works on dead things, far as I know.”

“And...you’re alive…” Sky’s head was starting to hurt, and not from the mild concussion, she suspected, “This...I don’t...doesn’t make any sense!” Her eyes lifted to his again, searching for a moment, “Why would the government tell us that if it wasn’t true?”

“Maybe they want to keep everypony in the shade, above and below the clouds.” Dr. Char suggested with a quick shrug that did nothing to alleviate Sky’s worries, “Look, don’t get too worked up over this, what’s done is done.” He looked about for a moment as his words failed to quench her worries, “You’ve been out a good number of days,” he started over to a banged-up refrigerator, the talismans set in its sides still glowing dully. Sky watched him carefully as he opened it, his horn lighting up as he rummaged about, “couldn’t get any liquids in you except for a few drops of water on the tongue.”

Sky’s eyes lit up as he closed the fridge door, a filled water bottle that appeared to have been made before the war held in his magic. Her tongue suddenly felt sticky as she pressed it to the roof of her mouth.

She would have given him anything for the bottle, her eyes tracking it like a laser-guided missile. He trotted back to her, still maintaining a respectable distance, but getting closer this time.

“Drink this slowly.” He chided, offering it freely in his magic.

Sky snatched it up in her wing, fumbling with the cap which she spat to the floor. She intended to follow the doctor’s orders, knowing she should drink slowly or the water would just pass right through her body.

But the second she felt the cool liquid touch her tongue she lost all semblance of control, practically choking the water down. She had to fight back a sob as she chugged the deliciously sacred water, her throat pulsating with every gulp.

Dr. Char sighed, but let her finish the bottle, “It’s purified.” He told her after she’d finished, gasping down air. Sky couldn’t have cared if it was poisoned.

“More?” She tried not to beg, holding the empty bottle out in a wing.

“Later.” Dr. Char said, taking the bottle from her in his magic and continuing with a pointed look, “For now I should check the rest of your wounds. I think I got all the shrapnel out of your shoulder,” he indicated the bandages there with a hoof, “But I might’ve missed one or two little pieces.” His hoof settled gently back on the floor, “May I?”

Sky, her hackles starting to rise, gave herself a quick once-over. She looked like she might refuse, but eventually managed a jerky nod. Maybe he’d give her more water afterwards.

“Thank you.” Dr. Char nodded, his hoofsteps soft and slow as he approached.

Sky squirmed as his magic appraised her wounds, tingling as he unravelled her bandages and eyed the injuries beneath. But she powered through her discomfort, not bolting or biting or bucking him away. His soft touch and gentle mannerisms slowly smoothed her raised hackles and slowed her racing heart. Her calming mind started to let her think straight and she seemed to chew over her words for a moment, tasting them before speaking.

“Wh-why?” She managed.

“Why what?” Dr. Char asked, jerking his head down to the sutured wound in her shoulder, “The shrapnel? Assume whatever got you got you from below. A mine or a grenade or something. Wings are all fine, only damage—”

“Why are you helping me?” Sky interrupted, eyes darting away as he gave her an odd look, “If...if you want something or...think I can give you something…” she swallowed and trailed off.

He paused for a moment, eyes finding her cutie mark: a simple crutch, before turning back to his work.

“You some kinda medical pony? A medic or something?” He asked her, making a satisfied noise as he re-bandaged her shoulder. His magic tickled a little as he deftly checked the bandages around her ribs.

“I’m a combat medic,” Sky gave a quick nod, “but I only graduated last week.”

“Then you should know why.” He let her think about that for a moment, taking her chin gently and shining his horn’s light in both of her eyes. She blinked rapidly when he let go and moved towards her backside, “Need the other leg, please. Can I have you roll over?”

Sky watched him with a hawk-like glare as she did what she was told, Dr. Char taking her other hind leg gently in his magic. But he was a perfect gentlecolt, eyes focused on his work as he applied a clean dressing from a medkit on the floor.

“Why?” Sky tried again.

“You know your hipponicratic oath?” He gave her a quick nod to roll back over, checking her pulse and blood pressure with his magic.

Sky had to consider her words for a moment, recalling what she’d forced herself to memorize through countless late night studies, “‘I...swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant: I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I trot, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow. I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures which are required, avoiding those…” she had to pause, a moment and think, “those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.

“I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's potion. I will not be ashamed to say ‘I know not,’ nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient's recovery.

“I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given to me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play as the Goddesses.

“I will remember…’” Sky trailed off with a touch of shame. It had been easier when somepony there was feeding her the lines.

“‘I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick sentient creature, whose illness may affect the creature's family and economic stability.’” Dr. Char spoke up, earning a surprised look from Sky Bloom. He smiled at her, a quick gesture prompting her to recite the words with him.

“‘My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick.’” Both ponies now recited, “‘I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.

“I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow creatures, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm.

“If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.’”

Silence fell across the room as the two ponies finished reciting their shared oath. Something that, as it turned out, even two hundred years of hardship and isolationism couldn’t snuff out.

“I’ve always preferred the old ponish version myself,” Dr. Char smiled and Sky couldn’t help but flash him one in return, “Primum non nocere. First, do no harm.” He raised an eyebrow, “Doesn’t say anything about wings or horns or even talons and claws and paws, does it?”

“No.” Sky was just now starting to realize, feeling as some of the old Enclave wiring in her head began to unravel itself. When she returned from her reverie her gaze was more firm, her sore body relaxing despite Dr. Char’s close proximity, “I...I didn’t think that ponies down here still believed in that kind of stuff.”

“Not everypony does,” Dr. Char admitted with a sigh, “I’ve known many a pony who calls themself a doctor but doesn’t deserve the title. Cheats and thieves and snake-oil salesmares; but there are those of us down here who still stick to the old ways, who stand by our oaths, find meaning in them.” He paused a moment, thinking, “I don’t suppose there’s ever a case of malpractice above the clouds?”

Sky looked away, “Sometimes,” she had to admit.

“The world’s not perfect, neither are the ponies in it,” Dr. Char said, “It’s up to those few of us who remain good and true and keep to our oaths to do the best we can for as many others as we can.”

Sky’s eyes grew a little distant as she digested his words, mulling them over as she got into a more comfortable position on the bed. Dr. Char, finished checking her over, began to pack up his medical kit, tossing soiled bandages into a pot to boil clean later.

“Doctor?” Sky asked suddenly, earning Dr. Char’s humble gaze. “You said that maybe it was time for pegasi to start re-integrating back into the world again...” Dr. Char nodded at her words, watching as Sky tried on a small smile, “You happen to know of any openings for a medical pony fresh out of school?”

“I can think of one,” Dr. Char smiled back.

Author's Note:

Inspired by this image by Nukechaser.

Comments

[Beegee]

This is a wonderful way to give those two wastelanders depicted in Nukechaser's art life and meaning!

Love the way you interpreted her cutie mark and gave her a future and purpose with it, alongside reconciliation with the surface dwellers.

[Trooper]

I finally got the chance to read this story. Well worth it. I really enjoyed it Salted.