Fallout Equestria: All for you, Ms. Cheerilee

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Fallout Equestria:
All For You, Ms. Cheerilee

The running colt dodged through the night, making his way between boulders and stones while trying desperately to stay ahead of his pursuers. Sometimes he could hear their hooves on the scattered rocks that dotted the landscape. Occasionally, there was a shout or some sound to indicate that the ponies following were still hot on the trail.

This should have never happened. Tears streaked from the colt’s eyes as flashes of memory caught up with him. His family was dead. They’d been murdered only minutes before by the same gang that was after him. And why? Why? What kind of ponies would commit such a terrible crime for so little?

So many questions, but the only thing that mattered was survival. He had to keep running or die. The colt kept pounding on, concentrated so hard on coaxing more from his tired body that he didn’t realize the sounds from behind him had faded away.

His parents named him Chance, although that was really more of a nickname than anything. It didn’t fit his green coat or dusty grey mane. Mostly, it was just something to call him.

Dashing through the field of rocky debris, Chance saw an open area up ahead where there seemed to be an old building foundation. It was hard to tell in the darkness. It was there that the trap he never saw was sprung.

Two menacing earth ponies jumped in front of him, coming from the field of rocks without warning and brandishing rusted knives. Skidding to a halt, Chance whirled around only to find that a few unicorns with an ill kept assortment of firearms and another huge earth pony, this one with a sledgehammer of all things, had closed the gap behind him and blocked off any path to flee. The colt turned this way and that, but there were no routes for escape.

A well-muscled unicorn stepped from the circle of villains crowding around Chance. He wasn’t the biggest of them, but he carried the most scars and there was the look of cruel experience in his eyes. Light from his horn cast illuminating an isolated portion of the night. He smirked and looked the panting colt up and down. “It’s too bad you decided to give us trouble. We could have used somepony to carry our crap, dispose of the bodies, or whatever. Maybe when you got your cutie mark, it would be for manual labor. We probably would have let you join us after a few raids. Maybe then you could have been a real stallion rather than sniveling puss.”

There was a chorus of chuckles from the group. While Chance couldn’t help but fix his terrified gaze on the stallion in front of him, he thought that one of the subordinates flanking the bad guy had disappeared. Retreated into the darkness, perhaps, or shifted to a different position. It wouldn’t matter, they were just playing with him at this point.

The unicorn who seemed to be in charge took a few steps closer. Chance retreated hastily, until one of the ponies behind shoved him roughly back into the center of the circle. He spun quickly, reorienting on the leader. This time, however, he was sure that there were at least two ponies missing from the group that had pursued him.

“You know what we do to ponies who run? Ponies who don’t submit?” The ugly unicorn grinned, most of his teeth black and rotten. “Ponies like your family?”

Chance’s lip quivered. His family, every member, had been slaughtered. He was the last. And now they were going to kill him, too.

There was a gentle swish, as if the wind had momentarily picked up. One of the stallions standing at the edge of the light abruptly vanished.

“Huh?” asked one of the others, only now seeming to realize that several of his fellows were missing. A second later, something unseen knocked him aside and out of the light. There was a startled gasp, but nothing more, not even a cry of pain.

“Form up,” ordered the leading unicorn. “Everypony get—”

A screech of pure agony echoed through the night as another pony vanished. There was the sickening crackle of breaking bones and something came flying out of the darkness and bowled over another one of the stallions standing in the light. He got up quickly, horrified eyes staring down at the mutilated remains of what had once been another outlaw. Then, darkness took him as well.

The scarred unicorn’s jaw was clenched as he turned quickly, trying to predict which direction the next attack would come from. His underlings crowded close, each trying to be closer to the center for protection. There were only two left now.

“Boss,” one of them gasped. “I don’t know—”

A shape blurred out of the darkness so quickly that none of them clearly saw what it was. It was no bigger than a pony, dark, bloody, and incredibly fast. The unicorn with the light tried to react, but was far too slow. With a whisper of wind, the unknown specter was gone again.

“Boss, what—”

The unicorn in charge crumpled to the ground, his throat slit to the spine. The light died with him.

Chance took off, running even harder than he had before. Wild terror kept his legs sprinting even after his instincts told him that he’d reached his limits. Two more screams started behind him before being suddenly cut off.

Already gasping for air, Chance tried to run harder but his legs failed him. He faltered and his momentum carried him to the ground and into a roll. Hard earth and harder stones beat his body. Trying to get up, he stumbled again and couldn’t keep his stability.

No! his mind screamed. Can’t stop! The world went hazy, a distorted, unreal feeling that grew darker. Chance struggled, but could do nothing to stop blackness from claiming him as he fell to the ground.

Time passed. Chance didn’t know how long. He drifted, not feeling, not thinking.

The gentle motion felt like a dream. Chance was relaxed. His legs were a little tired, but lying on his side with peaceful swaying beneath his body reminded him of some of his earliest memories, a careful rocking in his mother’s hooves. His mother—

Chance shot awake with a gasp, tumbling from his perch onto the ground.

“Oh my! Are you all right?” A magenta mare plated with steel armor turned from where he’d fallen off her back, lowering her head to him worriedly. She pushed her metal helmet back, exposing her face.

Chance swallowed, looking around in the light of day. The rocks and boulders looked familiar, but there was no sign of the place where he’d fallen the night before. This mare must have carried him quite a ways.

“I can see that you’re scared,” the mare drew close, touching his shoulder gently. “You’re lucky to be alive. I found you last night, passed out and all alone. What do you remember?”

“Raiders,” Chance managed to say. “They took my fam… everything.”

Seeing the tears welling in his eyes, she pulled him close, cradling his form softly between the plates of her armor. Even through his weeping, Chance could see how miraculously clean the steel was. Something else that struck him - she wasn’t carrying any visible weapons. Who was this mare? Didn’t she live in the wastes like everypony else?

“Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s keep going. I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

Chance wiped his eyes. He looked reluctantly in the direction he’d come, but there was nothing back there for him. Turning, he fell in step beside his rescuer.

“My name is Cheerilee,” she said, giving him a smile.

“Call me Chance,” he mumbled.

Cheerilee still looked at him with concern, but didn’t try to press anything more from Chance. He was grateful just for the company. He didn’t know this mare, but she seemed friendly. Even when he studied her closely, she exhibited no signs that there was something hostile on her mind. She didn’t keep a constant watch on him, just enough to know that he was all right.

Chance noticed that she seemed to be perfectly healthy. Astonishing, as he had never met a pony in the wasteland that was. What little of her body he could see beneath the polished armor bore no scars and seemed to be at least somewhat clean. Cheerilee looked around carefully to stay alert, but did not seem to exhibit any of the twitches or lapses that a crazy pony might.

The two of them walked for several minutes in silence. Cheerilee abruptly turned and slipped between two large boulders. Warily, Chance followed. There was an iron door set inconspicuously against a built up hillock. Cheerilee managed to open the solid iron door with little issue, holding it for Chance. He stepped in, and she let it close heavily behind them after entering herself.

As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Chance stared with wonder at the chamber before him. He realized where they must be: a stable. He’d never seen one of the underground shelters before, but there was no mistaking the giant cog shaped door resting near the matching opening. He’d heard stories of such places before.

Cheerilee smiled to Chance. “Welcome to The Orphanage. We take in lost souls from all over the wasteland. Come on, let’s get you inside.”

He still didn’t trust her completely, but the stable looked real enough. Past the cog, a long set of stairs led deep into the earth and there were the sounds of other ponies; muted hoofsteps, quiet conversations, tools being used.

As they started down, a face appeared from behind a pile of sandbags at the bottom of the stairs. “Cheerilee, is that you?”

“It certainly is,” Cheerilee replied. She gestured to Chance. “I found a colt, all alone. Some raiders were after him.”

“Heavens, let’s get you down here right now,” called the friendly voice. With a glance at Cheerilee, Chance reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the corridor, passing several other armored ponies like Cheerilee. All of them seemed to defer to her, apparently regarding the magenta mare as a respected superior.

Near the bottom of the stairs stood a rather jovial unicorn mare who was colored like vegetation - that is, if many green plants actually grew in the wastes. Her manner and attitude was more reminiscent of a rather portly happy-go-lucky pony, but it was not to be. Nopony could afford to be chubby in the wasteland, although like Cheerilee, and it seemed everypony else in the stable, this mare looked healthy. She introduced herself as Ghillie.

“We’ll get you taken care of,” she promised Chance. Ghillie glanced at Cheerilee, her tone shifting to more respectful and serious. “You were gone a while. Feel like a bite?”

Cheerilee shook her head. “No, I’m fine for now. I need to go talk to Halberd about raiders in the area.”

Ghillie nodded and turned to Chance. “How about you, kid? Hungry?”

“Oh yes.” Running for his life had put his mind on other things, but now Chance realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. He followed the green mare down the corridor. The cafeteria they came to was not as grand as Chance’s dreams had imagined, but the food was quite real. It was not a buffet, but he was still extremely pleased with the amount served onto his plate.

Ghillie stayed with him, although Chance noticed that she didn’t come nearly as close as Cheerilee. He realized that he must look a mess. Most wastelanders did all the time, even if they hadn’t been running for their life all night.

“So, what is this place?” Chance asked between bites.

“Well, it’s a stable, though it wasn’t quite finished in time. Not really an official one either, just something that some rich pony had built for personal use before the megaspells hit.”

“Who built it?”

Ghillie shrugged. “It’s run as kind of a shelter now. I don’t know where Cheerilee keeps finding ponies that need help, but we’re always busy. The name, ‘The Orphanage,’ is sort of what we do. Ponies, who need help, ponies who have no one else to turn to, we take them in. We do tend to focus on the young or needy, as we can’t afford to take care of everypony. Then, when enough ponies come of age we send them out so they can find their own place in the world, though we try and give them everything they need to survive. Supposedly, some even go out to make the wasteland a little less dark. Of course, we try and keep some of the more experienced adults like Cheerilee around.”

“So Cheerilee is some kind of scout?” asked Chance. “That explains how she rescued me.”

“What? No.” Ghillie shook her head. “No, Cheerilee’s a teacher. She runs the education program here.”

Chance paused mid-bite. That might explain her lack of weapons, but... “Then what’s with the armor? And being all alone in raider country?”

Ghillie smiled, but in the way of somepony breaking bad news. “Cheerilee is a… special case. If you hang around long enough, maybe you’ll hear her story.”

Chance continued eating, not troubling her with more questions. He chose instead to look around at all the ponies. He had never been to an organized town before but figured it must be like this. Ponies wandering around, occasionally greeting each other or meeting to share a meal. A couple of foals ran by playing a game of tag. Everypony obviously had enough food for themselves and might have been lucky enough to have a water talisman because they all seemed to be somewhat clean.

But as he took another bite of some sort of mushroom munch his thoughts drifted back toward Cheerilee. He understood the need for secrets. In fact, he held more than a few. One of them was responsible for the raider attack on his family. He shuddered momentarily, just thinking about it. It was heartbreaking being unable to do anything while his family was murdered. Particularly because hindsight told him how it could have turned out differently.

Ghillie noticed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Chance didn’t want anypony worrying, or indeed, thinking too much about him. He might have lost his family, and there was no way he would let any other ponies grow that close to him. He couldn’t risk anything happening to them, too.

“Well, you might feel fine but we should take you to the medical clinic anyway, just for a checkup.” Putting Chance’s empty plate away, Ghillie took him down the hallway. She introduced Cardio, a lanky unicorn stallion with a heart for a cutie mark, as the medical expert.

Cardio wore a friendly smile. “Hey there, Chance, is it? Let’s get you checked out.”

Chance had never before been to a formal checkup, mostly due to lack of access. Sure, he’d seen a few medical procedures performed before – one got very little entertainment in the wasteland – but the opportunity to keep track of his health was novel. These ponies in the stable really seemed to care.

He listened attentively as Cardio noted a few bruises and scrapes as a result of the chase through the rock farm. The stallion told Chance that he was a little undernourished for a growing colt. Also detected was some radiation poisoning from living in the wasteland, but there were drugs available to counter that.

“Drink this and you’ll feel better,” Cardio promised, giving Chance a strange mixture of medicine. True to his word, once Chance drank the foul orange-colored liquid, he did feel better. Better than he could remember, in fact. It was a crying injustice that he alone received such treatment, while his family—

Chance fought back tears and distracted himself by thanking Cardio. Just then, Cheerilee popped her head into the room. She’d shed her armor and Chance saw her fully.

Along with her magenta coat, her mane and tail were pink, complemented by her green eyes. Her cutie mark was yellow flowers with happy faces on them. She looked the part of an elementary school teacher for fillies and colts. Cheerilee spotted him. “Hello Chance, how are you?”

“Much better, Ms. Cheerilee.” He gave her a smile .

She smiled back, caring and warm. “I’m glad. Cardio, can I talk to you for a moment?”

While the two of them engaged in conversation, Ghillie escorted Chance to a dormitory. Despite lying passed out for most of the night, he could do with a long rest. Other young ponies were already tucked into the room’s beds for a good sleep.

“We’ll take care of you,” said Ghillie. “That’s a promise.”

“Thank you.” Chance had never expected anything like this to happen to him. He half expected it to be some cruel dream. Such compassion was not something he was used to or had even heard of. He wasn’t sure how to repay the dwellers of The Orphanage.

But he could think about it later. That bed looked so inviting.

Chapter 2

School was the last thing on Chance’s mind when he arrived at the stable. He’d never attended any formal lessons before, so the concept was completely alien to him. His parents used to give little lectures, but word of mouth was just not the same. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to learn, just that he didn’t know where to begin. Fortunately, Cheerilee was the teacher.

Chance thought that learning might be difficult, but was surprised and pleased with how he was taught. He could see how things like more advanced math and eloquent writing would be useful, even in the wastes. Also, Cheerilee had a way of making even boring material interesting.

She was almost like an artist, masterfully managing the class while shaping the lessons and discussion. Even though school supplies were meager in the stable, all the young fillies and colts had what they needed in order to learn.

As the next few days passed, Chance could tell that his life was turning around. He felt better, was certainly eating better, and nopony was trying to kill him. He was even beginning to make a few friends, a luxury that an isolated wastelander often didn’t have. Perhaps all of that good fortune made him a little curious. It was not good manners to question where it all came from, but surely all of this couldn’t just be for free. With the state the wasteland was in, this stable must have some hidden reason for being able to sustain itself past the meager agriculture that grew in the hydroponic fields on the lower levels.

The question continued to bug him. Chance asked a few of the other young ponies, but none of them seemed to know. There were rumors, though. Nothing of consequence, but whispers that perhaps some of the adults were aware of something that the rest of them weren’t.

He decided to ask Cheerilee. She would tell him, right? It seemed like there was nothing she wouldn’t do for children. Getting a moment of her time outside of class proved extraordinarily difficult, however. It seemed that when Cheerilee wasn’t in the classroom she was going out to run errands for the stable or find other ponies in need of help.

Chance did manage to talk to her eventually, however. On that day, she was near the medical clinic when he met her. Cheerilee wore her polished armor, although not the helmet as she was indoors. She was surprised to see Chance, but gave him a smile and a greeting.

“Hello, Ms. Cheerilee.” Chance thought for a moment about how to slide into the conversation but decided that he would have to be rather blunt. “I was hoping you could tell me a little more about this place. I’m really grateful that you all took me in, but I can’t figure out how it works.”

“What do you mean?” Cheerilee kept her friendly demeanor. “I’m sure I could arrange a more in-depth tour of the facilities if you wanted.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Chance shook his head. “It’s just... how does a place like this exist? If there are raiders and monsters and who knows what out there, how does this stable stay like it is?”

Cheerilee had lost her smile, but she still looked him over carefully. “You’re right; the world as it is can be very violent. However, we’ve set up this little shelter of peace and we intend to keep it.”

Chance lowered his voice. “Do you fight?”

“There have sometimes been attacks,” Cheerilee acknowledged. “Usually monsters but occasionally bad, selfish ponies stumble upon us. We do our best to keep them far enough away that most ponies in the stable never even notice.”

Chance bit his lip and looked away. Even here, there was fighting. It didn’t matter if he realized it or not. He appreciated that Cheerilee wanted to protect him from the wasteland, but didn’t think he needed protection from the truth. After all, things couldn’t get much worse for his life.

But how did Cheerilee know so much about this, the fighting and keeping the stable safe? Wasn’t she just a teacher? Reemphasizing his earlier question, Chance asked, “Do you fight?”

This time, it was Cheerilee’s turn to look away. After a moment, she quietly replied, “Sometimes, we all have to stand up for what we believe in.”

Despite seeing her in armor, it was still a blow that the teacher Chance admired had to go into battle. She didn’t teach that particular subject, and nothing in her demeanor suggested that she was actually capable in a fight. Cheerilee certainly didn’t relish it. However, clearly she could handle herself. Chance looked again at her armor. That unblemished steel spoke of her ability. There was simply no way a pony could travel through the wastes alone and not have to fight for their life at least a few times.

“If you would feel safer, I can talk with Halberd about getting you some self defense lessons,” Cheerilee offered.

“Thank you.” Chance smiled.

“I’ll do that, then. Have a nice day.” Cheerilee returned his smile before walking away. The steel plating on her hooves clanked slightly against the floor, the noise fading as she disappeared around a corner.

Chance stood there for a moment in thought. Did he really want to hurt other ponies? It would certainly be better than being on the receiving end, but maybe he should talk about this a little more. He went after Cheerilee, unsure where to find her. A few minutes passed, leading him deep into the maze of the stable.

Still being a fairly new arrival to The Orphanage, Chance wasn’t exactly lost but didn’t know the place like the back of his hoof, either. After passing the weapons locker door for the second time, he decided to go in and talk to Halberd. Perhaps he would even find Cheerilee there.

Opening the door, Chance stopped short in the doorway. Halberd was there, a burly earth pony with a coarse brown coat. Cheerilee was also in the room. She embraced the stallion carefully, nuzzling his neck. Her mouth was open, revealing sharp teeth that had sliced a shallow cut in Halberd’s flesh. The trickle of blood that flowed out was quickly lapped up by her tongue.

Halberd’s eyes focused on Chance, a look of alarm on his face. Cheerilee felt his muscles tense and pulled back from her task, blood on her lips. Chance started to back out of the room but never made it, falling to the floor in a blackout.

Panic didn’t immediately take Chance when he awoke. The concerned face of Cardio greeted him as a cool compress was lifted from his forehead.

“I hope you’re feeling better, but don’t try to get up just yet,” Cardio directed. “Ms. Cheerilee told me what happened, and I imagine that would give anypony a shock.”

Chance sat up carefully, his head continuing to swim slightly. He ignored the feeling, sitting forward. “You know what she was doing?”

Cardio nodded and looked away. “It was, ah... rather unprofessional of her and Halberd, being together like that.”

A shade of doubt crept into Chance’s mind. The wasteland was not exactly a modest place, and he had a suspicion of what grown ups usually did when alone together. This was not a usual occurrence, however. “Do you know exactly what was going on?”

“Er, yes. She tried it with me once but I politely refused.” Cardio’s face went slightly pink.

The door opened to reveal the mare in question. Chance recoiled but Cardio showed little reaction other than further bashfulness. “I should probably go, Ms. Cheerilee.”

She held up a hoof and in a quiet voice asked, “No, please stay. I don’t think Chance will want to be alone with me.”

The young colt’s fear and surprise was suddenly tempered by bewilderment. He knew what he had seen, but why was Cheerilee now acting apologetic? Very cautiously, Chance settled onto the bed, not taking his eyes off her.

Cardio sat on a stool on the corner and looked disinterested. Cheerilee closed the door but did not come any closer to Chance. She studied her hooves. “I’m sorry that you had to see that. It’s not very pleasant, I know.”

“You were eating him!” Chance burst out, surprising himself.

Cheerilee quickly glanced up. There was a touch of resentment in her expression, but it disappeared quickly. “No, that’s not correct. I was only taking a few mouthfuls of blood. Furthermore, I’ll have you know that he volunteered for it.”

Chance’s mouth dropped open, the revelation knocking any response right out of him. Meanwhile, Cardio continued to mind his own business, staring at a corner near the ceiling and doing his best to act uninvolved.

Cheerilee looked away again. “I’m not a normal pony, Chance. I need blood to live. It’s part of what I am, and I can’t change it. Back before the wasteland, I was involved in a project, one of many, to create superior soldiers. I was young and not very understanding of the ways of the world. There were a group of us that underwent spells and potions testing to determine which worked best with the fewest side effects.”

Cheerilee’s took a breath and let it out. “I was not one of the more desirable results.”

“But... before the wasteland,” Chance stuttered. “That means you’re really old!”

Cheerilee’s face showed mild surprise. Chance flushed. Even he knew it was impolite to talk about somepony’s age. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Wasn’t thinking?” provided Cheerilee.

Chance nodded. “How did you-”

“Know what you were going to say?” Cheerilee’s lips turned up at the corners.

Chance stared blankly. “Are you a-”

“Mind reader?” The mare broke into a polite chuckle, not displaying the fearsome teeth that Chance now knew she possessed. “No, I can’t hear your thoughts; it’s just intuition. With age comes experience, you know.” Cheerilee’s mood cooled slightly. “And this isn’t the first conversation like this I’ve had.”

Looking over at Cardio who was still sitting in the corner, Chance asked, “When did you find out?”

The stallion looked up, momentarily surprised at being spoken to. “Well, ah...”

“It’s a story for another time,” Cheerilee interceded smoothly. “Chance, if you’re feeling better, maybe you’d like to go back to your room. Please don’t tell anypony what you’ve learned here. It helps keep all the little ponies safe.”

Seeing that he wasn’t about to be devoured like he originally feared, Chance was more than happy to leave. However, on his way out the door he paused. Ms. Cheerilee was, well... a whole lot more frightening to him than she had been earlier. At the same time, she was being remarkably straightforward about this. Was she really so bad?

“I’ll keep it a secret,” he said.

Cheerilee nodded, giving him a thankful smile. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

As strange as it may have been initially, things in the stable seemed to fall into a routine over the next few weeks. Chance kept up with his schooling and tried to keep his mind off what Ms. Cheerilee might be doing outside the classroom.

That didn’t last, however. One day, Cheerilee returned to the stable escorting an injured mare and her severely ill filly. Chance was standing in the atrium when Cheerilee came in carrying both the new arrivals. Her movements were urgent, and she took both of the ailing ponies straight to the clinic.

Chance stood there, surprise still holding him. He knew these ponies. They’d lived near his family. There had been a husband, wife, and two foals. Chance frowned. What had happened to the others? The same thing that happened to his own family?

He shuddered and hurried towards the clinic. By the time he got there, Cheerilee had come out and was leaning against the wall. She took off her helmet. Her face was grim.

A couple of other stable dwellers had appeared. Any new arrival in their midst was a break in the monotony. Chance spotted Ghillie and walked over to talk with her. She was another pony who knew Cheerilee’s secret, although there was no way Chance would disappoint Cheerilee by discussing that subject in public.

“Cheerilee had said she might have located some ponies in need of help,” Ghillie told him. “She went to get them today. I didn’t know the foal was in such bad condition. It looked like some kind of sickness.”

Chance was solemn. “I know both of them.”

“Really?”

“They lived near me. The mom’s name is Wheatseed. The daughter is Poppy, and I played with her a few times.” Chance decided not to mention the rest of their family. It seemed that there was nothing that could be done for the missing ponies now. Concentrating on the most important things; that sounded like something Cheerilee would do.

“We’ll see what can be done,” Ghillie told him. “I’m not a doctor, so I don’t really know how bad the two of them are. I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait for answers.”

Chance nodded reluctantly. He turned to go. Cheerilee gave him a worried but encouraging smile as he passed, somehow finding the time for him despite the grim situation.

With a sigh, Chance headed off to try and sleep away his worry. It didn’t work.

The next day, Chance was in class listening to a lecture about plants and fruits. Many of the more exotic ones hadn’t been seen since before the wasteland was formed.

“And I have a special treat for you,” Cheerilee announced. She took a vibrantly-colored spherical object from a box and displayed it. “This is called an orange. It’s a citrus fruit. Down in the science labs, they’ve only just managed to clone them from leftover seeds.”

All the students scrambled for a closer look. Cheerilee peeled some kind of thick rind off the outside of the orange, exposing a juicy core. She distributed wedges of it to the class. Chance eagerly chewed on his. It was perhaps the best thing he had ever tasted. He noticed that Cheerilee didn’t partake, however. After class, he stayed around.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” Cheerilee asked, smiling.

“Have you tried oranges before?” Chance asked. “It was amazing!”

Cheerilee nodded, a flicker of memory crossing her face. “Yes I have, long ago. I managed to get one of the few oranges the science lab has grown to share with the class. It was worth it to see you all so happy.”

“Maybe I should do something nice for you,” Chance said. “I still owe you for rescuing me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Cheerilee waved a hoof.

Chance stepped forward, leaning in close to Cheerilee. “You’re so busy and don’t leave any time for yourself. I know you must have a hard time getting what you need to survive. I... I want to help.”

A look of sadness settled on Cheerilee’s face. “No, Chance. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Please, Ms. Cheerilee.” Chance swallowed hard and forged ahead. “I would let you drink my blood.”

Cheerilee’s jaw clenched and she looked away. “I’ve never liked the taste, but it’s the only thing I can consume. Don’t feel slighted - I don’t want to drink from anypony, Chance. Despite my hunger, you need it more than I do. You’re still a growing pony.”

She looked at him again, seeming almost apologetic. However, to Chance the teacher appeared almost saintly. Cheerilee might not like who she was, but to Chance she was the best role model he’d ever known. It was the best example of making the best of a bad situation that he had ever witnessed.

Seeming eager to change the subject, Cheerilee said, “Ghillie told me you know the ponies I brought in the other day.”

“That’s right.” Chance nodded.

“Why don’t we go to the infirmary and see them?”

Happy to spend more time with Cheerilee, Chance agreed to go along. He also wanted to see his friend Poppy and check how she was doing.

Cardio met them at the clinic with a weary, tired face. Cheerilee’s body language was instantly on edge. She asked, “Did something happen?”

“The young filly had one of those vicious wasteland diseases,” Cardio related. “There’s no solid information on how to treat some of them. I don’t know of any cure, and we didn’t have it here in the stable anyway.”

“How is her mother?” Cheerilee asked.

Cardio looked guilty. “I’ve kept her in an induced sleep. I was trying to figure out how to break the news.”

Chance slowly edged out of the room. Cheerilee glanced at him with concern and took her leave from Cardio. Out in the corridor, Chance slumped against the wall. Cheerilee carefully sat down beside him.

“She’s just gone?” he whispered.

“Life is so precious.” Cheerilee sighed. “And so fragile.”

“But... you’re pretty much immortal, right?” Chance turned in earnest to his teacher. “Could you do that to some other pony? Give them that?”

Cheerilee opened and closed her mouth, struggling for an answer. She glanced away for a moment before returning to Chance. She still didn’t meet his eyes, however. “There is... a way. It is no blessing, no gift, however. I told you what I go through on a daily basis.”

“Isn’t that better than being dead?” Chance insisted.

“I told you that I was part of an experiment,” Cheerilee recalled quietly. “My results didn’t turn out so well, but at least here I am now. Others weren’t so lucky.”

“What happened to them?” Chance asked, his voice barely audible.

“I’ll give you one example. Have you ever heard of a red striped zebra wandering the wastes, one who is unkillable?” Cheerilee asked.

Chance gulped. He had never heard of a red striped zebra before but everypony knew that it was the nation of zebras attacking that had something to do with causing the wasteland. He shuddered to think about what an evil zebra with super powers would do. “But you aren’t a zebra monster. You’re nice, and you help ponies.”

Cheerilee looked away again and didn’t reply. Chance touched her leg. “Right?”

Turning back, Cheerilee placed a comforting hoof on Chance’s shoulders. “I’ve had a long life, Chance. Everypony makes mistakes.” Cheerilee sighed. “In the case of the zebra I mentioned, she was actually fighting for Equestria.”

Chance mumbled, trying to word his surprise.

“I know it’s unusual,” said Cheerilee. “Things like that happened from time to time. Wars do inspire strange acts. But back to the story. I never got to know the zebra, I didn't even know her name, but I suspect that at some point early on our paths must have crossed. Perhaps the ponies that helped make her what she was learned from what I became. I was working for Princess Luna long before her sister ever stepped down, years before the war. So I’m fairly certain that the project that created the red zebra learned from what I am.

“I’ve heard that she possesses some of the same traits, though to a much greater extreme. I can actually be destroyed, though I was altered to minimize that risk. But the zebra... she can’t be destroyed, and because of that she is reckless and destructive. She has probably died thousands of times by now.”

“Wait, wait,” interrupted Chance. “She’s died thousands of times?”

“Probably. It’s hard to explain and I don’t actually know how it all works. I’m not a unicorn and even with unlimited learning I don’t think I’d understand the magics necessary. But the point is that it’s damaged her as a pony, or zebra in her case. She doesn’t have control of herself half the time and has hurt a lot of innocent ponies. I saw her fight once, a few decades back. It was disturbing. She is a monster as much as she is a hero, though with time I expect she has probably fallen farther down a dark path.”

Chance took a step back. “But you could beat her. Right?”

“I don’t know, and I’m not inclined to find out.” Cheerilee glanced down at Chance’s fearful expression. “But I know I could keep everypony safe, and she was far away the last I heard.”

“But, you’re still a nice pony, right Ms. Cheerilee?” asked Chance.

Cheerilee paused for a moment and then winked. “As long as you do your homework.”

Chance’s snort turned into a smile.

Cheerilee looked appraisingly at Chance “I hope you understand why I can’t do this to another pony, Chance. I was lucky. I lasted through the end of the world and didn’t lose myself. All the others like me, and the ones that I had tried to change, slipped down the wrong path before the bombs and spells even dropped.”

“I understand,” said Chance morosely. “I’m sorry that happened to you. But it sounds like you’ve done a lot of good.”

Chance wasn’t sure, but he thought Cheerilee seemed surprised. She replied, “I have, Chance. It took me a long time to find solace in that. It means a lot that you can look past what I am and see what I try to be.”

Chance smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Cheerilee stood up, changing the subject. “Well, I bet you could go for something to eat.”

Cheerilee always seemed to know what he was thinking, so he just nodded. Cheerilee turned to walk towards the cafeteria. Chance quickly followed. before stopping. “Um, Ms. Cheerilee?”

Cheerilee stopped and turned around. “Yes?”

“What does solace mean?”

Chapter 3

Chance was first through the front door, holding it open to let the others into the stable. They had been on a long patrol to collect supplies. It was not his first trip outside the stable, but certainly the first he had been on that bore the brunt of such a furious raider attack.

He had taken it as an opportunity to go out and help. While Chance was still young, he’d spent two years at the stable training for things like this. Well, maybe not exactly like this.

One of their own had been killed. Chance hadn’t known him that well, but the loss still hurt. Fortunately, he hadn’t let the killer escape. The raider had gotten what was coming to him - a bullet in the head.

That hadn’t been the only revenge Chance had exacted, either. There were a few kinds of dried blood on his armor, and none of it was his. Chance himself hadn’t been injured or even had the strength of his armor tested.

The group moved into the stable, lugging the body of their fallen comrade and the meager supplies they’d managed to gather. Chance did his part while still paying attention to the rest. They all seemed down, depressed.

After stopping at the clinic to lay their friend to rest, the group somberly dispersed. Chance stepped into the corridor, sighing and finally allowing himself to relax from the intensity of the patrol. He began to unbuckle his armor.

Twisting to loosen the plates that covered his flanks, Chance saw something on his hip that hadn’t been there when the armor went on. His eyes widened in surprise and he quickly checked the other side. He’d earned his cutie mark.

“Yeah!” Chance pumped a hoof in the air, grinning. He had finally discovered his purpose in life, his special talent. A couple of ponies looked at him curiously, spotting the new cutie mark.

As was customary in the stable, Chance was due a minor celebration held in the cafeteria for recognition of the event. Everypony that could show up did. Getting a cutie mark was an important event in a young pony’s life. Also, any excuse for a party was gleefully accepted by the residents of the stable. Everypony enjoyed an excuse to divide up the precious little fresh produce they grew, especially oranges.

Chance had expected questions. What did his cutie mark mean? He’d already figured it out. The depiction of barbed wire strands on his hip symbolized his talent for protection, something he had always worked toward. He’d defended the scouting group from the raider attack.

Everypony seemed pleased by his explanation. They respected a skilled warrior. Chance basked in their adoration, but something troubled him. Cheerilee hadn’t come to the party. She was in the stable somewhere, and he’d seen her shortly after discovering his cutie mark. She was the only one who hadn’t congratulated him.

It bothered Chance a little, but he shrugged it off. A pony’s special talent couldn’t be something bad, could it? Even if it was a cutie mark for something grisly, like some of the raiders had, they could choose to not do it. No, bad ponies were bad because of the choices they made, not what they were good at. Chance couldn’t be a bad pony; he fought them. They deserved whatever they got from him. After all, that’s what his cutie mark symbolized.

Time went by, and Chance fell into his new role. He went on more patrols and distinguished himself greatly. It all became almost routine to him, until one day. He was down in the weapons locker, preparing for another trip outside the stable.

“That’s the last of it.” Chance tightened the straps on his armor. A variety of weapons had been secured to it.

Halberd cast a critical eye over the ensemble, looking for weaknesses. Nodding, the armorer noted, “Looks good, Chance. You’ve really learned a lot in the last few years.”

The young stalling grinned. “Thanks. I had a good teacher.”

“Come along,” called the mare in question. Cheerilee stood just outside the door of the weapons locker, her shiny armor as pristine as the day Chance had first seen it. He trotted out of the room to meet up with her and they headed for the stable’s front entrance.

Chance looked around, troubled by something. He realized that it was just the two of them heading out. “Where’s everypony else?”

“It’s just us this time,” Cheerilee informed him. She didn’t explain further.

Chance frowned, but as the two of them went up the stairs to the surface he didn’t ask any more questions. Exiting the stable was always a time to be alert to danger. Truthfully, any time they were outside he would do well not to talk much.

There were many lessons Chance had learned since arriving at the stable. He’d learned how to handle life in the wastes, how to defend and attack, small skills and large ones. The weapons and armor he carried had seen use before. Several times. In fact, it seemed that his place in the stable would be to follow in Cheerilee’s steps into his adulthood, protecting and serving for the common good. Possibly even teaching some of the younger ones before they get sent off into the wastes.

Cheerilee hadn’t said that. In fact, Chance got the feeling she wanted him to take a more active social role in the stable. That wasn’t his place, Chance felt. He was more comfortable outside than when sheltering with the other residents deep below ground. Chance wanted to go out, to really do something.

It was how he’d earned his cutie mark, after all. There was no time to see it appear in the heat of battle, but that must have been when he’d gotten it. The previous year, an expedition from the stable searching for supplies had been hit by raiders. Cheerilee had lead the counterattack, and Chance had been right behind her.

There was, of course, no way that he could ever match her in battle. That didn’t mean he couldn’t fight like a madpony. In the storm of bullets and blades more than a few raiders had died by his hoof, and Chance had found his special talent. His cutie mark was a wreath of barbed wire, a circle that served as a barrier all around him. Like Cheerilee, his armor was still pristine. He’d never been touched by an enemy.

Chance thought that getting his cutie mark would make him more popular around the stable. Most ponies didn’t seem surprised at the mark, however. Most things didn’t change. He didn’t need their approval, however. All he needed was Cheerilee.

Since graduating from school, Cheerilee had become more serious towards Chance. He decided that it was just him growing up. He couldn’t treat her like a beloved teacher forever, regardless of her immortality. After all, hadn’t he earned her approval? She’d let him become a searcher like herself, going from the stable to find food, supplies, or ponies in need of help.

That didn’t explain her decision to make this expedition just the two of them, however. While Chance didn’t mind the personal time away from other ponies, he was still confused.

“Clear,” Cheerilee announced, her voice just loud enough for Chance to make out. He nodded, still dutifully scanning the land around him. The two of them moved off, carefully staying alert. A few minutes passed. There still hadn’t been an attack, and the boulders around the entrance to the stable were beginning to shrink in the distance, leaving no cover for an enemy to hide. For the moment, they were safe.

“Where are we going?” Chance asked.

“No particular place,” Cheerilee replied.

Chance thought for a moment. “Just a patrol in the wastes, then.”

“It’s a seek and destroy mission,” Cheerilee told him, glancing in Chance’s direction.

He nodded. “I can do that.”

Secretly, it pleased him. Killing raiders and slavers made the world a better place. He’d more than given back what they took from him, that night years ago when his family had been murdered. In fact, though he’d never told anypony, the first time he’d killed a raider had been that night.

One of the attackers had gone off by himself behind the hut his family called home. Chance, emerging from his hiding place knowing that he was the sole survivor, had stealthily taken his father’s makeshift blade off his father’s body and cut the throat of the raider.

He’d done it out of rage, fear, and retribution. Taking revenge felt good, like he was in control, like he wasn’t just a sniveling little colt. It would have been smarter and much safer to instead just slip away. The other raiders had arrived just after he’d finished his first killing. They’d given chase, and finally caught up to him in the field of rocks.

It had been Cheerilee that found him that night. She’d taken down the group of raiders. Her actions were part of the reason Chance had grown up to be the pony he was now. Death was the only thing that bad ponies had coming, and he could give it to them.

Chance and Cheerilee kept trotting, heading for the horizon. Chance carried supplies for a few days. This was not a routine task, the act of seek and destroy. Cheerilee did not typically authorize this sort of mission. Chance still wondered about that, but was not complaining.

The rest of the day passed while Chance watched the daylight track across the sky. A couple of times he caught himself daydreaming. It was hard not to relax with Cheerilee beside him. In combat, she was practically a force of nature and having her by his side took a lot of fear out of him. Chance promised himself that he would do his best to make her proud.

In the afternoon, they stopped in a sheltered place to rest for a moment. Chance ate some of the food he had packed. Cheerilee stood by, waiting on him.

He looked up, dusting off his hooves after finishing eating. “Are you ready?”

Cheerilee nodded and came forward. Chance lowered his neck protector and unwound the bandage on his skin. He closed his eyes and waited.

Cheerilee’s touch was light and gentle. The prick of her teeth slicing through the scabbed wound on his neck was just as painful as always, but Chance withstood it without complaint. Cheerilee had eventually accepted his offer to let her drink from him. He was happy to help her.

A few minutes passed and Cheerilee finished, cleaning up the last few drops of blood. She helped Chance put a fresh bandage on and got his armor back in place. She tightened the straps and looked him in the eye. “Thank you.”

He smiled.

The two of them started walking again, continuing on for a few more hours. As night fell, the two of them picked out a spot in the wasteland that was higher than the surrounding terrain and slowly made their way to the top. Using a battered pair of binoculars, Chance helped Cheerilee survey the land. It soon became apparent that there were a few artificial lights clustered in a spot to the north.

Cheerilee considered that. “There’s a town in that direction. The last time I went through, they were so poor they couldn’t keep lights burning like that. I felt bad that I didn’t have any candles to give them.”

“So what changed?” Chance asked.

“Let’s go find out.” The two of them slipped back down the hill and headed for the light. Chance’s senses amped up, now alert for any potential enemy. One could die very easily in the wastes, as he had both seen and inflicted. It paid to be ready.

It was nearly dawn when the two of them finally reached the outskirts of the little town. They found a thicket to hole up in and observe for a while. In not very long, an armed guard walked by. His outfit marked him as a slaver.

That certainly explained the extra lights around the town, Chance thought. Every resident was probably being held prisoner and their captors wouldn’t want them to escape under cover of darkness.

“When he goes by, we’ll slip behind him and scout the town,” Cheerilee whispered.

“Why don’t we kill him?” Chance asked.

Even in the dim light of predawn, Chance could see the look she gave him. Cheerilee looked disappointed. “That should never be the first step.”

Chance backpedaled. “Er, right. We should find out what we’re dealing with first.”

As the slaver passed their hiding place, the two of them stealthily crept from cover to cover towards the town. In the rubble of a ruined building, they found a new place to observe from. Slavers with weapons were around, holding captive perhaps a dozen ponies from young to middle age. Chance squinted, picking out a place just beyond the reach of the lights where he thought he saw bodies. That would probably be the older residents of the town, those killed because they were of no use to slavers, or because they had fought back.

There was the faint sound of a radio somewhere. Straining his ears, Chance managed to catch a short news announcement from DJ Pon3. “Good evening wastelanders! How's everypony doing? Got some great news for you today! Remember that little Stable Gal who took on the slavers of Appleloosa and saved all those ponies? Well don't ask me how, but she survived takin' a nosedive off a cliff in a speeding train. That's right, fillies and gentlecolts: she's back!”

“It’s nice to hear that somepony else is also standing up to fight,” Chance murmured.

Cheerilee nodded. “It’s impressive. Appleloosa is, or was, a large center for slavery.” More seriously she continued, “A lot of ponies stand up only to fall back down. The hardest part is staying strong and not compromising what’s right. In that respect, I think The Orphanage helps me even more than I help it. I’ve got friends and a purpose now.” She hesitated, and then added, “It’s not like before the war.”

Chance glanced at her, perhaps unwisely curious about what Cheerilee might have done before becoming a better pony. Changing the subject, Cheerilee injected a bit of levity by noting, “And that stable dweller diving off a cliff - in a train, no less - that’s not a fun experience.”

Chance did not laugh, only because the slavers might hear him. He and Cheerilee began to prepare for the task that lay ahead. Cheerilee took off her saddlebags and opened them for a quick check. There was a solitary bottle of healing potion they had been able to appropriate from the clinic and some other health aids. Chance slipped off his own pack, lightening the load for battle.

“I’m going to provide a distraction to the slavers,” Cheerilee told him. “You get the townsfolk away.”

Chance frowned. “But I can help.”

“You will be. Give the victims assistance.” Cheerilee nudged the medical supplies towards him.

Chance nodded reluctantly. Cheerilee gave him an encouraging smile. “Just do what you think is right, Chance. It’s all I ask.”

She turned and exited the rubble they had been sheltering in, stepping into the center of town. The few lights burning flickered across her polished armor. The slavers noticed her and cautiously approached. Anypony willing to walk right into a slaver camp was either stupid, crazy, or had a large sum of money and was looking to buy.

Chance paused, watching the eight slavers he could see forming a loose circle around Cheerilee. They hadn’t attacked yet, probably hoping for a lucky sale instead. Chance turned away, quietly making his way around the edge of town to where the captives were being held. He heard Cheerilee begin to speak.

“How many ponies live in this town?” Her question was addressed to the stallion who seemed to be in charge. He was rather burly, seeming even larger because of the power armor he wore. Such a thing was rarely seen in use by common crooks, even if his set was old and rusty. Cheerilee didn’t seem impressed.

“No ponies live here anymore,” the slaver answered, his voice distorted and metallic through his helmet. “If you’re looking to buy, though, we have twelve.”

Still moving unseen, Chance reached the area where one guard still watched over the captured townsponies. Chance did a quick headcount. Sure enough, there were twelve captives.

“I’m afraid I’m not going to buy,” Chance heard Cheerilee say. “In fact, I’m going to ask you to let your captives go. After that, you leave town.”

The heavily armored pony chuckled. “Are you serious? You’re one of those peaceful ponies, aren’t you, not even carrying a weapon? Know what? So were those slaves we just rounded up. If you notice, the few who fought aren’t for sale.” He chuckled. “You're probably one of those preachers. The ones telling about the goddesses and how the world will thrive through unity. Well, we're not buying. We're selling. And that’s too bad for you. If you can’t fight, it looks like we’ve got a thirteenth for the markets.”

Cheerilee’s voice was louder this time as she emphasized her words. It was a tone Chance had heard before, when she covered a particularly difficult subject that she wanted her students to learn. “This is your last chance. Leave peacefully, or die.”

She had given them ample opportunity for backing down. Too much, in Chance’s opinion. He heard the heavy steps of the pony wearing power armor. The distorted voice said, “Just try it, little mare. Just try to get through this steel.”

Chance strained to hear Cheerilee’s reply. “Well then, I suppose I’ll have to peel you like an orange.”

“Huh? What’s an orange?” one of the slavers asked. Chance almost chuckled out loud. He might as well, as it would have gone unheard. In the next instant, all hell broke loose.

There was a loud clang as something that sounded like a pony's whole body slammed into the stallion wearing power armor, knocking him over. The guard Chance was watching looked away, his eyes widening at whatever Cheerilee was doing to his fellows. Chance took it as an opportunity and moved forward, drawing his knife.

The slaver had turned away, and Chance’s blade easily drove deep into his neck. Blood spurted, gushing over the pristine armor Chance wore and staining his coat. He let go of his enemy’s body, wiping off the knife and resheathing it.

The twelve captive ponies stared at Chance with hope that he might be their savior, but fear was still clear on their faces. Anypony who would kill a guard was capable of doing the same to them.

“You need to get out of here,” Chance said to the group. “Go, before more slavers come.”

“We can’t run if we’re all chained together!” one stallion protested. “Get us free.”

Chance hesitated. Based on the sound of it, Cheerilee was busy cleaning up the rest of the town. Pausing to break all the locks that held the prisoners would slow him down.

“You have weapons, please protect us!” pleaded a mare in the middle of the group.

Alone, Chance was much more effective. Trying to protect a group would only make him slower and more vulnerable. What would Cheerilee do? What would she want him to do?

Chance grabbed a large rock and brought his full strength down on the first padlock. He’d grown up quite a bit since joining the stable, and the regular meals and exercise had made him quite muscular. It took a couple of tries, but he shattered the lock.

Working as quickly as he could, he managed to free the other prisoners. As the last lock fell away, Chanced ordered, “Everypony follow me!”

Mindful that his charges were weak since being captured, and probably not in the greatest shape to begin with, Chance kept the pace slower, alert to danger both up ahead and in every other direction.

They reached the edge of town without incident. Chance was almost disappointed. It would have been difficult to fight a slaver while still dealing with the prisoners, but he could have handled it. That didn’t mean he couldn’t get in on the action before the night was over, though.

“You should be safe here,” Chance told the townsponies gathered fearfully around him. “We’ll come back for you once the town is clear.”

Chance started back in the direction they had come from. One of the freed slaves called, “What about you? Isn’t it dangerous to go back?”

Pausing for a precious second, Chance looked back. “Don’t you want these ponies to pay for what they’ve done? That’s what I want.”

Some members of the group didn’t want to look at him. Chance realized that there was still blood on his armor. He knew that there were some who couldn’t handle the sight of it, but as long as it had come from bad ponies, he didn’t mind.

“Everypony stay here and lay low as long as you aren’t threatened. If you see any slavers, then run. We’ll catch up.” Chance gave them all one last glance and turned, heading back towards town. He ran, hoping to get there in time.

The dawn was starting to break over the horizon, warming the sky. Following the sounds of carnage, Chance managed to locate the scene of the battle. Cheerilee held her position in the middle of town, the morning light glinting on her armor. Three slavers were still standing, circling her fearfully. One of them was the power armor-wearing leader. The remaining slavers’ caution and cooperation were the only reason she hadn’t dispatched them yet. Others in their group had not been so lucky, and their broken bodies were strewn around.

As Chance appeared, Cheerilee glanced in his direction, frowning slightly at seeing him. One of the slavers noticed her attention was distracted and wheeled around, trying to make a break for it. Cheerilee was on him in an instant, driving a hoof into the back of his neck so hard that the sound of vertebrae snapping was easily heard.

The stallion with power armor used the diversion to run in a different direction. Cheerilee tackled him from behind. The heavy metal suit staggered, but the pony inside used the strength enhancements to remain upright. Not for long, however. Cheerilee planted her front hooves, pirouetting into a spinning kick to the helmet that knocked her opponent through a complete flip before slamming into the ground.

Jumping on top her quarry, Cheerilee pinned him securely, allowing no escape. Using the ground as an anvil, she drew back and delivered a hammering blow straight to the chestplate of the power armor. The shock raised a cloud of dust like a miniature explosion. The sound wasn’t far off from that, either. The slaver spasmed and fell still, the steel over his torso dented and crushing his body.

Chance turned, catching sight of another fleeing slaver. He was closer than Cheerilee and gave chase. Carefully lining up, he hurled a small blade from his kit and hit his target in one hind leg, bringing the pony down.

Catching up, Chance avoided a slash from the injured pony’s own knife, deflecting the attack with the steel plate on his foreleg. The knife scratched the surface of the armor. Chance drove his hooves to the slaver’s throat, using the hard plates of his armor to crush and pound at the windpipe.

A scream carried to his ears from the other side of town. Chance jerked his head in that direction, a shot of panic going through him. The noise had come from the direction the rescued ponies were supposed to be going.

Chance saw Cheerilee pause for an instant, the same thoughts probably going through her head. She took off sprinting in that direction. Chance got up, turning to follow her. He hadn’t made it five steps before there was an explosion of noise from his side and something slammed into his armor, knocking him over.

Another slaver, this one a unicorn armed with a shotgun, came out from a ruined building where he had been hidden, pumping a fresh round into the weapon. Chance rolled onto his back, pushing away and trying to put distance between them.

“Now that that monster you call Cheerilee left, it’s just you and me.” The slaver took his time advancing on Chance.

“She’s not a monster,” Chance spat.

“Word gets around. Anypony who spills that much blood can’t be anything but.”

“She helps the innocent,” Chance argued. He began to slow down, strategically letting the slaver draw closer. “Cheerilee isn’t evil.”

“Matter of perspective.” The slaver raised his shotgun, pointing it at Chance’s face. He was near enough that Chance took a risk, arching his back to kick at the weapon. His ruse worked perfectly, and caught the slaver by surprise.

Grappling, Chance got his hooves on the shotgun and stuffed the barrel into the pony’s face, pulling the trigger. Blood flew everywhere, much of it getting on Chance.

He slumped, pushing the grotesquely mangled body of his opponent away. Struggling to get up and finally go after Cheerilee, Chance noticed that his legs seemed weak. He took a few steps, turning his head to look back at his hindquarters.

There was quite a lot of blood on his armor, slowly dripping off him. Chance’s eyes grew wider. For the first time, it was his blood. He’d been shot, the armor failing to stop the heavy slug from the shotgun. There was a ripped hole in the plating, marring the armor.

Chance tried to walk. His strength was fading. Slowly, he staggered towards the edge of town. The walk seemed longer and more painful than it should have been. Chance couldn’t believe how much he was struggling.

The rescued townsponies were gathered around Cheerilee. Some of them were injured, with cuts and bruises. Medical supplies that Cheerilee and Chance had brought along were being passed out to them.

A dead slaver lay nearby, his wrenched neck showing that a supernaturally strong pair of hooves had killed him. A gun lay by his side, a few fired shell casings spread across the ground.

Cheerilee turned upon hearing Chance’s labored steps. The crowd parted, revealing a dying mare on the ground in front of her. The injured pony had been shot, and her breathing was ragged.

Chance fought on, but his legs collapsed and he fell to his knees. Raising his face, his eyes meet Cheerilee’s. She was not smiling, looking as sorrowful as Chance had ever seen her.

She could have stated what he had done incorrectly. She could have told him that he made the wrong choice. But Chance already knew. He’d made a bad decision; in fact, he’d made it long ago. It all started those years ago when his home was attacked.

“We have one healing potion,” Cheerilee said quietly.

Chance understood where he had gone wrong. For so many years, he had been concerned with only his own goals of getting a kind of revenge from every bad pony he’d encountered. It was selfish of him, when his purpose was to serve others and protect them.

“Give the potion to her,” Chance said. “She deserves it after what I - ”

Cheerilee gently stopped him. She knew. She always had.

The dying mare accepted the healing potion, Cheerilee holding her head up so that she could drink. As it took effect, her ragged breathing smoothed and the blood flowing from her wounds began to ebb. She closed her eyes and Cheerilee gently laid her down to recuperate.

The other townsponies crowded around their neighbor, tending to her. Cheerilee slipped away from them and came over to Chance, kneeling down beside him. He drew a breath, heaving as well as he could against the pain.

“That was a noble thing you did, Chance.” Cheerilee’s voice was quiet, personal. It was reminiscent of the same worried tone she’d first greeted him with, when he was a young colt in need of help.

Chance didn’t reply, casting his eyes towards the brightening dawn. He wished things had happened differently. If he had stayed to protect the group of prisoners, there might have been a different outcome. He still might have been wounded, but it would have happened while he was fighting for something that mattered.

Cheerilee shifted slightly, uneasily. Chance turned his head towards the sound. He had never seen her look so troubled before. She appeared to be putting together something to say.

“When I brought you out here, it was a test.” Cheerilee hesitated slightly and went on. “I wanted to know what kind of pony you were. Just you and me, so I could truly see you for who you are.”

Chance swallowed, forcing himself to gather the strength to speak. “I’m sorry. I’m not who you wanted me to be.”

Cheerilee’s shoulders slumped. “Ponies can’t be shaped, Chance. They have to choose for themselves.”

“I’m not the pony I want to be, either,” he whispered. “I don’t know what it would have mattered, but I feel like I could have made a difference.”

Cheerilee looked away for a moment. She appeared to be steeling herself for something. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to Chance. “I could make you like me. There is always more to do. Another lost foal to take in, ponies to protect.”

Weary as he was, Chance’s ears didn’t manage to perk as much as that statement deserved. It was a red line, one of Cheerilee’s personal codes that she simply did not compromise. And yet, she was offering to go back on that for him.

“What would I do with that?” Chance asked. “So much stronger, faster, tougher. Do you think I could stop myself?”

“I believe in you. You’ve always been a good learner. Willing to grow. You never wanted to hurt another, just rid the world of the bad.” Cheerilee stared at him.

“That means a lot to me. You always have meant a lot.” Chance shook his head as much as he was able. “But I can’t put that much faith in myself. I know what I’m capable of, what I like. It wouldn’t matter if I did or didn’t. I think the guilt would be too much.”

Cheerilee dropped her head and squeezed her eyes closed, silently containing her feelings. She let out a breath and looked up to meet his eyes. “Chance, I took you on this trip to test you. I needed to know you weren’t going bad. I know what evil ponies, monsters, look like. I’ve seen far too much of that in my time. I’ve slipped a few times myself.” She paused to look back at the dead slaver. “I want to thank you for not becoming one of them.”

A faint smile came to Chance’s lips at her approval. He closed his eyes. Cheerilee leaned over to cradle him against her, and wept.

Author's Note

At Everfree Northwest 2013, the charity auction raised $21,070 for the Seattle Children's Hospital. I donated a story to the auction, stipulating that I would write a document for the winning bidder about whatever they wanted. Piquo Pie was that person, and he asked me to write this story. On behalf of the hospital, I thank him for donating his money to a worthy cause.

The editors were maskedferret and Y1. I thank them for their efforts in keeping me on track. I haven't actually read very much of the Fallout: Equestria canon.

And thank you for reading.