Chapter One

Autumn Melody Delight

“Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of ponykind.”
– Bertrand Russell

Boredom.

Overwhelming, mind-numbing boredom. That was what I felt staring at the black terminal screen, watching row upon row of sickly green data scroll past; each segment revealing the results of the day’s medical check-ups. I knew it was important that I paid attention to this, or at least I was told that it was important by my mother. Which meant that it was, by proxy, supposed to be important to me. I was somewhat sceptical about that though, considering it was essentially the same data that passed by every other day in the past with only minor fluctuations in the test results. All of those fluctuations well within the one percent error margin set by Stable-Tec.

Sweet Celestia and Luna, this is boring; why can't I just be in the atrium playing my guitar? I thought to myself. I sighed deeply, imagining a life that I knew would never be – a life where I wasn't forced to follow in my mother's hoofsteps. Where I could pick my own lot in life.

Groaning lightly, I let my thoughts wander for a moment, thinking of my deceased father. He had been one of the lucky ponies that were allowed to pursue their passions outside of their obligations. How lucky they had to be, to become a designated creative instead of a designated intellectual like myself. Creatives could do whatever they wanted so long as it followed simple three rules: raised morale within the Stable, did not endanger the Stable in any way, and did not place an unnecessary drain on Stable resources. Yet even with those rules in place the creatives often pushed the boundaries of endangerment, especially when the first so-called ‘prank war’ started. I had previously imagined the boundary being something along the lines of ‘so long as no pony got hurt’. To the Overmare when I first saw her exercise her power, the line was made clear to be damage to the Stable interior—and she had more than once sent an artisan to isolation for it since. Minor injuries only ever carried a warning

Glancing at the terminal, I noticed it had cycled through the day's medical results for the maintenance crew and was now cycling through that of the security ponies. Suddenly, I perked up at something anomalous that appeared on the monitor. For a moment, I was over the moon at something interesting finally popping up, but on closer inspection it was quite normal – at least for the pony in question. Even though I was admittedly more than a little disappointed at this, I smiled a little seeing the test results that I knew could fit only one mare in the whole Stable. It never ceased to impress me whenever I read the data of our Security Captain and gentle giant of the Stable, Scarlet Radiance. Considering she’s at least two-and-a-half times the size of the average pony, it was argued that if records were to be believed she would have rivalled our fair Princess in height. As such, she is quite the sight to behold. The lights of the Stable cast a shadow that seemed to radiated authority to all as she walked through the halls during her patrols, or any other moment in time really. This was especially noticeable when standing beside her partner and second in command, Cherry Stellar, who was so far on the opposite end of the spectrum it was almost comical. It had become something of a running joke among Security that the height restriction attached to their positions had been lowered since she joined the force. Still, it worked to make Scarlet look all the larger and more intimidating when necessary - or when somepony was caught cracking jokes about their respective heights.

I smirked just a bit while thinking of the lilac pegasus. Her foal-like size and appearance was, unfortunately, a topic that many a pony would tease her about. Of course, that was before she qualified for the Valkyries – the most elite and well-respected section of Security in the entire Stable. I had been there to watch the qualifications with my dad four years before. Ponies had openly laughed at her when she turned in her application for the team. But then – to everypony’s surprise – she not only met the standards for the cut but surpassed them beyond belief, even being cleared for riot control duty. While not the fastest pony in the Stable given her size and her noticeable lack of flight – not that flight is particularly useful in a Stable, still I do feel sorry for the mare’s disability – she more than made up for it with incredible endurance that defied the expectations of her size. By the time it was over, she was only breathing hard while everypony else who participated couldn’t even lift themselves off the floor. She even scored high enough on the written exam to place top of her class in that, too.

If she wasn’t such a hard-ass when it came to her job, one could say it was adorable how she was often found riding on Scarlet’s back when they did their rounds together. Her smaller frame and short legs made it hard to keep up with the Capitan’s long stride without having to break into a trot, so about a week after she began her duties Scarlet had suggested she simply carry the smaller mare on her back. At first, Cherry had been reluctant but it wasn’t long until Scarlet pulled rank and had the rookie watching her back – while on her back. I had been lucky enough to catch that conversation on my way to work that day. I may have been late and gotten my ear chewed off by Mom reading me the riot act, but seeing the small yet proud pegasus struggle to climb up the enormous mare’s side before remembering she had wings and could flutter up was totally worth it. Of course, this happened under protest that she by no means enjoyed it. Personally though, I kind of doubted she didn’t learn to like it.

I pulled myself away from my train of thought with a drawn-out groan. Remembering the rant my mother had gone into about the seriousness of our work had only served to pull me back to reality. Cold, soul-crushingly boring reality rendered in hundreds of thin green lines of data. The return impact was so strong I had to rub my temples to fight off the sudden, throbbing of an oncoming headache. I was also unable to focus my eyes as I pulled them away from the screen. Blinking rapidly as I adjusted to the sudden onslaught of stark, sterile white on my poor pupils and I pushed up my glasses to rub my strained eyes. This was more than I could handle and soon felt my eyes watering. I couldn't take it anymore. Closing my eyes for a few moments to let them rest, I knew I needed a break.

"Sweet Drops! Could you please take my place for a little?" I asked in mild but clear annoyance. I was a scientist for Celestia's sake! I should be in the lab with the others, not performing the mind-numbing duties of a lab assistant.

From behind me I heard a soft voice. "Melody?" the small charcoal-coated mare asked, her head tilted in brief confusion before she frowned disapprovingly. She didn’t complain but did let out a soft little sigh. She quickly took my seat behind the terminal after I hopped out of it. "Fine, fine. But I'm not bailing you out when your mother finds out you left your station... again." The pause before the last word drove in her point, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, yes, I won't be long. This time I just need to stretch my hooves a little, my rump is getting sore from sitting there for so long," I explained away her worries, passing on my patented small pleading smile that was proven to wither away her will to say no. Watching her sigh again I frowned a little, fearing she might have finally developed a resistance to the expression.

“I mean it, half an hour at most?" I insisted, sitting down on my haunches and pressing my forehooves together in a more desperate manner. I didn’t like begging, but it was effective. She nodded, wordlessly motioning her hoof at the door dismissively. I grinned and mentally pumped my hooves in the air before turning to trot out from the genetics laboratory before bringing to life the mental hoof-pump.

Unable to help myself, I continued to smile mirthfully, thankful to be out of that blindingly-bright white room, my eyes welcoming the much darker gunmetal-grey of the Stable walls. I quickly started down the stairs thinking about the charcoal-coated mare for a moment – like her name sake she was too sweet. However Sweet Drops was also my only real friend in the Stable. We did everything together – especially when it came to our pet project. If I had been on shift with anypony else they would have forced me to sit in that damned chair for hours, without even being allowed to rest my eyes. All while barring me from touching even the most basic of lab equipment despite my years of sort-of-formal training at the hands of my oppressive, if capable, mother. I could practically perform a gram stain blindfolded, yet everypony was adamant that at my age I belonged in data entry. So, I was sixteen years old. What did that have to do with my knowledge or even the ability do my job?

Trotting down the small set of three whole steps that were just outside the tech room door – and which I found utterly pointless each time I saw them crammed into the meagre space – I began letting my mind wander as muscle memory took over as I walked to my room.

“I mean seriously, why those three steps? Why not a ramp? It would take less metal and fewer ponies would trip over it or chip their hooves. Not to mention hauling a cart of equipment would be much easier for non-unicorns.” I stopped as I caught myself on that thought. “Alright, because that statement wasn’t a tad racist,” I mumbled sarcastically to myself as I shook my head and continued walking.

Reaching the door to my quarters, I raised my hoof to give the secret knock like I always did. Like always, however, I had to stop myself as I remembered my father would no longer be on the other side of the door. And like always, I quickly stuffed down the budding feelings of sadness and memories of my father as I took a few deep breaths.

“No need for that, Melody, it only hurts you and you’ll get nothing done if you dwell on it.” I recited the mantra repeatedly until I felt the negative emotion fade.

Throughout life the foals of the Stable had been taught that any personal issues that did not concern either the Stable or the Stable’s prime objective, should be sorted out by oneself. Only problem is, they never taught us how to do that, so I figured the best thing to do was stuff it down and let it simmer away over time. Before stepping through the heavy door as it hissed open, I regained my composure and quickly walked through the living room into my personal quarters. Smiling as I stepped into my private sanctuary and let my eyes wander before focusing on the object of my journey. Walking over to my bed, I ran a hoof over the worn wood of my guitar.

Yes, this is what I need. This is something that I can stand doing for hours on end despite any rump’s discomfort, I thought to myself with a rare sort of smile. Not the forced smile I held to placate my mother and the others in that oppressive lab, but a genuine, warm and happy smile. Stroking the instrument with a hoof, I could hear the words my father spoke near-religiously when I was a filly: 'Music is the purest form of expression, one no pony sane doesn't understand’. My grin widened remembering that day well. I spent hours practising and ignoring my homework. My mother had been furious when she found out to the point she threatened to destroy the guitar – she didn't agree with any of it. It was a frivolous pursuit in her eyes, a waste of time. Music became a taboo with her after father passed away, even the mention of the topic made her cross.

I come from a long line of science ponies. From the day, the Stable was sealed to the day I was born that is all my family has been and will ever be, or so it has been said. Knowledge is passed down from parent to child and from the moment we can read we commit ourselves to the pursuit of biology and genetic research. My generation had been lucky enough to be required to absorb two hundred years of family research along with the basics of arcane technology, spell matrices, terminal maintenance, and – as we grew older – repairing the actual equipment when it inevitably broke down. Honestly? I hated every minute of it. I had no interest in learning the low-tier skills of a maintenance pony and found it needlessly tedious. There were only two reasons I stuck with it however. The first was because most of it came so naturally to me – which, to my classmates, was apparently amazing (I really didn’t see the big deal in being able to understand what somepony else wrote in a book). The second reason was my mother refusing to let me pursue anything else, even as a hobby in what precious free time I had.

“If it can’t help Equestria, it has no place in this stable,” was her creed that she’d use to justify her oppression of me throughout my life. It made me wonder, who was she to decide that music and art didn’t help Equestria? We weren’t machines after all.

It was because of her iron hoof that my only happy memories of home were of my father teaching me to play guitar while she was off at work. Looking back, I still giggle at how silly I must’ve looked when I examined sheet music as some sort of alien language and asked dad what it said. He would just smile and answer every question I asked - no judging, no right or wrong questions. From that day on, I was fascinated with learning to play, and dad was more than happy to teach me.

He’d help me with my school work as best he could so I finished it all early, and every day I sat in his lap between him and the guitar and watched as his hoof plucked away at the strings. Watching the strings vibrate as the sound echoed in my ears was the most awe-inspiring thing I had witnessed as a foal. The funniest thing was when my mother caught us mid-practice, and before she could yell at my father he began rattling off each assignment I’d had to do, telling her everything was finished and even informing her that all my chores had been completed – thus giving her no ammunition to justify her screaming. Oh, the look on her face was priceless before she huffed off into her room, and I made sure to sneak dad an extra dessert onto the end table as he slept on the couch that night.

I slung the instrument over my back with a small grin. The delicate headstock was carved to resemble a griffon's head for a reason no pony seemed to know. Delicately plucking at the strings with my magic, I walked towards the door, filling the cramped stairway with the sweet, melodic tune of the instrument. The headache slowly ebbing away to a distant dull throb as I vanished back into my own world of rhythm and wave. Although that didn’t last long as I came to a sudden halt when my head bumped against the atrium door.

I cursed under my breath, holding back the urge to kick at the broken door. Sweet Luna... why hasn’t maintenance fixed the fucking thing yet? I bemoaned mentally, sighing and flaring up my horn to push the manual release.

Taking a deep breath, and checking to make sure my chocolate mane and light-brown coat looked presentable once more, I entered the Atrium with a smile returning to my muzzle. Leaping onto one of the table ends, I sat down on the edge, cradling my instrument in my lap more like my earth pony father rather than holding it completely in my magic like a unicorn. Closing my eyes, I started playing. Strumming the strings with a light caress, I brought the traditional playing of the instrument together with the fine manipulation of telekinesis, picking the strings with my hoof while my magic worked the frets to make the instrument sing a little life back into everypony in the Atrium. I had developed the method about six years ago, when I found that playing with just my hooves felt too limiting. It had been quite the challenge, learning to separate my focus between picking the strings and applying enough force to properly use the frets. For a long while I would simply end up with nothing more than a cold sweat and a throbbing headache, but I knew I was getting better with each attempt. Dad had been so proud of me when I had been able to play through an entire song with the new technique that I had almost blacked out from one of his infamous hugs of tight, fuzzy doom.

What I played wasn't a song, per se. At least, not one that anypony knew. It was more a release for my emotions. I guess you could call it a song, but it wasn't anything you’d find on any sheet music – played it from the heart. It didn't matter to my fellow Stable dwellers, though. We didn't have any actual musicians in our midst after my father's passing, for some reason no one had been assigned to it yet. I guess it was just nice being able to listen to something new, something other than the same two-hundred-year-old music that was played in the atrium day in and day out.

Slowly opening my eyes, I smiled watching everypony gather to listen, faces noticeably brightening, if only a little. The music wasn’t anything innovative or ground-breaking, but beggars can't be choosers is how the saying goes. It still felt nice watching them enjoy the way I made the instrument sing. Seeing them made me feel like I was doing something worthwhile, something that had a visible impact on the others. Something that made other ponies happy. Slowly I let the song wind down, bowing my head a little to everypony as they stomped their hooves and cheered. I didn't keep them waiting and slipped into a more upbeat song.

I couldn't help myself. Seeing them smiling and some even tapping their hooves or swaying along... I let myself get lost in the music. I revelled in their enjoyment and began picturing myself on a grand stage performing for all the Stables. I imagined being in a recording studio assembled around me that was broadcasting to all of Equestria and beyond, my singing letting Stable-Tec know we were ready to be released.

I was about halfway through the song when I began to notice the hushed whispers of the ponies around me growing more and more nervous. Probably just something they saw in passing. Maybe criticism of my music? I thought, trying to convince myself that their change in tone was something benign.

"Autumn. Melody. Delight!"

Or it could be the one thing worse than the apocalypse. It was an unspoken rule that a pony’s full name was never spoken unless they were in significant trouble. It was one of those stupid things that began when we were foals and just stuck. And by the tone of that mare’s voice, I was in for a Tartarus grade lecture at the least. With a sigh, my shoulders slumped and I opened my eyes, greeted by the mare whom I was, unfortunately, very familiar with. All the happiness that had been gathering in me seemed to shatter, be ground into dust, and blow away through the ventilation shafts in an instant as I met the ice-blue eyes of the head researcher, Professor Delight. Or, as I had to call her, “H-hey mom”.

Before I could say a word, her horn lit up and there was a flash at my hooves. Suddenly, my forehooves fell into my lap, the precious object they had been resting upon gone. She had sent my instrument somewhere, and I knew I wouldn’t be seeing it again for quite some time to come. My headache returned in full force and I groaned out in pain and frustration as I rubbed around the base of my horn while sliding off the table.

Daring to meet her eyes and instantly regretting doing so, I flinched, stepping back until my rump bumped into the table I had been sitting on. Even though I was almost a head taller than her, that cold glare bore into me as she walked closer, making me feel transfixed, like a moth to a light bulb. Not bound by anything but unable to look away.

My mother was a smaller mare, a good foot and a bit below average, but somehow, she always seemed to look so intimidating. Whether it was directing the staff in the lab or shouting at a maintenance pony for impeding the growth of the new Equestria with his blatant incompetence, she always carried a clinically icy atmosphere wherever she went.

Now, I can’t say I’m not biased having lived with her all my life, but that glare was likely the single scariest thing I have ever seen. It managed to silence any excuses before I could even formulate them in my mind. Something happened to me at this very moment as I opened and closed my mouth several times trying to formulate a response, other than staring at her sheepishly. I was on the verge of a good one and started to take a breath when… did her glare just intensify?! I heard my jaw clamp shut before I felt it. At times, I swear she can look straight into a pony's soul with those eyes – that is, of course, if souls existed. I thanked the goddesses looks couldn’t actually kill.

"Upstairs. Now," was all she really said to me, pointing to the door she had probably just come in from with a hoof. Folding my ears back I obeyed without hesitation, quickly making my way up the stairway and into the corridor. Waiting for her to catch up, I followed behind with my head hung low. Not a word was spoken between us as we walked and everypony moved to give us room when they saw us together. It had become something of a sick Stable cliché over the years.

“Oh, Melody’s with her mother – what’d she do this time? Oh look, there they go. How much you want to bet she gets cleaning duty again?”

Blowing a stray hair of my mane out of my face, I braced myself as the door to her living quarters came into view and I started mentally counting down from three.

Three.

The door opened and we stepped inside.

Two.

I made my way to my usual spot on the couch and got as comfortable as I could.

And one.

She was upon me, still with that angry death glare. "You are such a disappointment. I swear you are a deliberate disgrace to the family! Did you think we got where we are by being lazy!?"

I felt my ears flatten tighter against my skull as I stared at the floor. No matter how much I’d gotten used to these arguments, it still hurt having my own mother constantly berate me like this. I hated it, and because of it, I hated her, and because of the bitterness she stirred in me I hated myself, and because of myself I hated—no stop it. Stop thinking like that. Stop thinking like that and shove it aside. Just don’t think about it and it’ll go away. I internally persisted, and did my best to stow the emotions away like always but her constant insults made it impossible. Gritting my teeth under the building pressure and I looked up at her feeling what surely couldn’t have been tears forming in my eyes.

“No, I thought we got where we are because of the fucking zebras who destroyed our country. But then again, what would I know, I’m just your stupid worthless daughter right?” I finally bit back at her, crossing my hooves and quickly returning my gaze to the floor.

Her scowl deepened and she stomped closer. "The only reason you’re worthless to the Stable, to me, is that you never put so much as a shred of effort into anything. You have one job Melody! ONE! Why do you insist on ignoring it?" she shouted in a storm of angry frustration with a touch of disappointed despair.

"Well maybe I wouldn’t ignore it if it was actually worth my attention. I have studied genetics my whole life. I got straight A’s in every class, mastered everything you could teach me in record time and what happens the first day I go to job placement? I get stuck behind a fucking terminal like a common maintenance worker. Do you have any idea what that’s like? To spend your entire life preparing to follow in your hateful mother’s hoofsteps only to be shoved aside like you don’t matter? The humiliation of being relegated to something so menial after forcing so much effort into learning to do so much more!?

“Staring at a terminal isn't a job… It's a task delegated to an unskilled lab assistant, and I am not going to be your lab assistant for the rest of my life. I am fully capable of working the lab and I deserve it!" I slammed my hoof on the coffee table with a huff, and then quickly pulled away from her, seeing that dangerous glare turn to one of unrelenting fury.

She shoved me back into the couch with her magic, knocking it over and pushing me to the ground. If she wasn't angry before, she most definitely was now. Her disproportional daunting shadow loomed over me as I pulled against her magical grip and she spoke in a low, unsteady voice. “You ungrateful brat. You have no idea what you are talking about. Now you will do as you’re told or so help me that damn relic of your father’s will be turned to ash.”

My eyes widened as I stared at her in fear, desperately looking for any clue this was some vicious bluff. Three seconds later I felt my body go limp as I stopped struggling and nodded my head. She had me. As much as I wanted to shout my frustrations at her, I just couldn’t risk her destroying his guitar. Even if it also destroyed the one really thing she had left to control me with, it just wasn’t worth losing it. Lowering my head to the ground and feeling the cool metal press against my cheek, I fought to contain myself. “Y-yeah sure.”

My mother let out another huff. Slowly, she released her magical hold on me and she levitated the couch back into its original position. I just lay on the floor, too angry to cry and too afraid to keep arguing. Eventually I brushed myself off and stood up. “Good, get out of my sight and back to work now,” my mother instructed firmly as I walked past her towards the door, without responding to her.

Suddenly there was a tug on my tail and I turned, seeing her standing on it as she looked at me with a calmer expression. “You're just too young and too inexperienced for the things we do. You are sixteen for Celestia's sake, I don't care that you passed your exams or that you’re probably the smartest filly your age. Maybe I would let you in the lab if I could trust you with keeping an eye on the data that is being recorded. Sweet Drops is barely educated enough to understand it, but at least she does her job! That’s more than I can say about you."

"Yes, Mother," I droned in response, no emotion permitted to leak through my voice. In all fairness, I could have mouthed off to her, but I had learned long ago that she wasn’t afraid to knock some so-called sense into me – literally.

My reply seemed to placate her enough to at least stop her scolding. She didn’t slam me into the wall this time so you could say it was an improvement from our last argument. Turning around and knowing from extensive experience that the argument was over, we trotted back out through the door and up the single flight of stairs that led to the laboratories. I still very much envied my mother for having quarters so close to the lab, while I was living three levels down with the rest of the Stable personnel. Though my envy is rather ironic considering I chose to move out. I… I just couldn’t be there anymore, not after—Nope. No, no, stop it just… deep breath in… and out.

“Maybe I need another check-up, no way feeling this pessimistic is normal.”

Giving my head a good shake – then adjusting my glasses as embarrassingly I had dislodged them from their place on my muzzle – I continued through the hall. The rhythmic clip-clop of my hooves on the metal floor made a soft echo as I rounded corner after corner. I chose the long route around the atrium to avoid any questions from ponies trying to find out just how bad things went between me and my mother. They always tried to be polite of course, but it always came across as thinly veiled attempts to get the latest scoop of Stable gossip. Anything was entertainment in the cramped assembly of halls, labs, utilities and apartments that was home.

Rounding yet another corner, I came towards the most over-engineered door in the Stable – save for the main entrance. The entrance to the Stable’s laboratory. Much like the main door, it was in the shape of a giant gear with the symbol for “Epsilon” painted in its center. Unlike the main door however, two security guards stood watch on either side of the laboratory entrance in what I can assume is both the easiest and the most mind-numbing job ever. I mean, who would want to simply stand around staring at the opposite wall for eight hours each day? Not me, that’s for sure. If I had the choice I would stick to my screen, as much as I hated it.

As I stepped closer to the door, I eventually recognized the mare standing off to its right side. The cream-coloured mare with her flaming-red mane was a family friend, and despite my mother’s order to return to my station, I felt that simple conversation couldn’t hurt.

Putting on my best smile to avoid prying questions, I approached. "Good morning, Tia. How's Scarlet been doing?" I asked tentatively, praying she was in a talkative mood, which thankfully was almost always unless she was in a bad mood – and that mostly seemed to happen when she was in heat.

I mentally hoof-pumped as her face lit up before turning to look my way. "Good as always Me-...” She stopped mid-sentence and simply stared at me. No, not at me. Behind me. Turning around, I came muzzle-to-muzzle with my mother glaring me dead in the eyes, again! With a start, I stumbled away from her until my rump bumped into Tia. The guard mare was not even trying to hold back her amused giggles made at my expense as my mother continued to glare. With a light groan, I rolled my eyes and took a step forward so I was no longer pressing against the thick outer layer of Tia’s armoured security barding.

‘How does she do that!?‘

I had always suspected it was some kind of magic that let mom so easily shadow me from time to time. Not even an inch away, yet I’d never notice her until another pony noticed for me. Tia, still with her trademark smirk, spoke. “And you seem just as zoned out as always dear. Leeeet me guess… either you were slacking off again, or you were trying to access private lab information above your clearance level. Again,” she proposed mirthfully, shaking her head slightly

“Ding, ding. At least with the first half. Thankfully she was just feeling lazy today instead of curious,” my mother cut in sardonically.

“If you would like, doctor, I can hoofcuff her to the chair again," Tia offered with that awful mischievous smirk only seeming to grow. The sexual implications were not lost on me, there had always been rumours about her and Scarlet’s nightly activities and certain inventory anomalies regarding security restraining equipment. My previous desire for conversation having now vanished as soon as my blush had grown, I hastily stepped aside and quickly made my way through the large door as it opened with a loud hiss of hydraulics. To my regret, I dared to look back at Tia, catching her sticking her tongue out at me from the corner of my eye.

The last thing I heard was both Tia and my mother chuckling, no doubt at my expense as the door closed. Sighing deeply, I shook my head a few times. “That mare has it in for me, I swear,” I quietly mumbled as I continued past the multitude of facilities used in the stable’s mission to bring about the perfect generation of ponies. Walking past each one of the impressive arrays of beakers, distilleries, centrifuges and all manner of perplexing devices, I came towards the entrance of the data entry department, or rather ‘closet’ as it was affectionately known as. However, after all that had happened I forgot the first rule of data entry – mind the step. I was reminded of this lesson with a violent jolt and an aching shin.

“GAH for the love of. Why isn’t this a ramp!”

After taking a moment to let the throbbing in my leg fade and checking to make sure I hadn’t drawn blood, I hopped over those three pointless steps and continued to my deserted station. The door opened and I walked towards my terminal. The terminal Sweet Drops was busy typing away at. I approached behind her and lifted my hoof to speak, only to be cut off.

“So… your mother came by”

“Yeah I noticed. Did she say anything?” I asked sheepishly, my ears folded back knowing mom probably laid into Sweet because of me. She spun in her chair, turning to face me, keeping the elbow of a foreleg on the desk while resting her head against the hoof of the same leg.

“Actually, this time she came in and only huffed at me before storming out. Though I think there was a slight growl in there somewhere too,” she mentioned rather casually, pursing her lips. I chuckled a bit as images of mom snarling like the animals we were taught about in primary classes came to mind. Her coat unkempt and ragged while her teeth became long and pointed with those weird slit pupils some animals apparently had. Taking it a step further, and possibly bordering on racism, I began picturing her with leathery wings like a Thestral’s and long pointed fangs as she hissed viciously. I’m not sure why, but the more I thought about it the more I continued chuckling, it just seemed fitting given her usual demeanour and near feline ability to sneak up on ponies. Sweet soon joined in with her own set of giggles which soon evolved into full blown laughter. I’m sure neither of us could really tell what made it so incredibly funny but nonetheless laughter is laughter and we rode out the wave of jubilance until we had to stop to breathe. I wiped the formed tears from my eyes as Sweet did the same. Letting out a long, happy sigh I walked over and quickly hugged the mare.

“Thanks again.”

“Oh, you can thank me after I find out how I’m getting punished,” she said sarcastically, patting my back as I pulled away and rolled my eyes.

"So, I think I owe you this time, huh?"

She made a clicking sound with her tongue, winking at me. “Oh, you know it. Totally, owe me a week worth of chocolate rations," she decided to claim, nudging my side with a hoof. I smiled at her and waved her off back to her own station across the room. As she left, I discreetly levitated my Ear Bloom to my right ear and set my PipBuck to the Stable's radio frequency. Letting out a solemn sigh long enough that one could feel the misery wafting through the air, I returned to the endless torment of the sickly green text scrolling upwards on the eye straining screen. More of the same data that I had seen all my life and thus, more boredom.

“Fuuuuuck thiiiiis jooooooooob,” I quietly moaned, wanting to vent my frustration yet not disturb Sweet Drops too much more.

I began to rhythmically tap my hooves on the desk while rocking back and forth, idly swaying side to side in the chair as line after line of data scrolled by. Despite my intention, I knew I wasn’t missing anything as nearly all test results were the same. I spent the next hour or so booping the screen with my hoof each time I saw the results for my friends. Even though their names weren't shown in the data as it all had to remain anonymous for some mysterious reason, it wasn't hard to pick them out based on the given information. Blood type, blood pressure, white blood cell count, reflexes, height & weight, eyesight, age and more. It was all mind numbingly consistent.

It was almost like a second language to me as I read through it with a lackadaisical ease. I slipped into autopilot while working, letting my mind drift to memories of the past that would involve whatever pony whose data flicked by on screen. Yet eventually I began drifting off past that when it became boring as well, too familiar from all the long days practicing it previously. To combat this epidemic of becoming bored to death, my mind began remembering the more embarrassing moments of my life. Some of which involved Cherry.

I smirked, chuckled, and brought a hoof to my face thinking of that tiny little mare who I had for so long thought was a little filly. Oh, goddesses just thinking about the day she finally told me still made me blush. Suffice to say, it wasn’t one of my more flattering moments, and she was more than happy to wait and see how far I could stick my hoof into my mouth before she began laying into me like some sadistic predator. I don’t think I’ll ever live that day down, it’s still a popular cantina dinner time story till this day.

I could hear the door open behind me, the unexpected noise snapping me back to reality by a frustrated and somewhat angry voice. The sharp din of a table being kicked reverberating through the room making me flinch and ponder whether or not I should pay attention or just ignore the ongoing commotion.

"I am done! That mare can fucking stuff it and have her way!" the stallion I knew as Caramel Crunch ranted loudly. He worked as the hardware technician for the large databanks that held literally every bit of accumulated research that had been developed within the stable, an impressive feat and a daunting task as far as maintenance went for sure. When I had first been assigned to data entry, I had been rather jealous of his job since he got to work so close to what the lab coats worked on and for a time I resented him, until I got to see his work. Turns out database technicians aren’t much different from maintenance ponies that crawl through the dust clogged air ducts on a regular basis. Heck, he never even got to look at a screen. He just made sure everything was plugged in as it should be and all lights were blinking properly. Granted they were important wires and lights, and there was a lot of them, but it was still simple drudgery work.

I honestly felt pity for him, being surrounded by such a treasure trove of knowledge without so much as a taste of it to be had. Though recently I’ve only been feeling annoyance every time he stepped into the lab section. It appears he was in an ever-worsening mood that centred around a group of his friends and his wife. Of course, until now I’d only gathered that much from the small mumbles he’d let out while he worked, it may have afforded a decent distraction from the monotony of my job without the risky lengths I typically go to for a break, but didn’t really give much to ponder other than what those mundane social issues he might have. Goddesses know I have enough of my own to worry about first.

My curiosity soon won over my boredom, as usual, and I looked over my shoulder. His head was lowered and his eyes trained directly to the ground as he sulked.

“Goddesses why? Why won’t she just listen to me? I’m her husband, that must count for something. And that’s OUR foal she’s carrying, not just hers,” he groaned as he dragged a hoof over his face before he noticed my presence and scowled. “See something amusing about a stallion with marital issues?” he spoke, a sharp edge in his voice making me flinch.

Caramel Crunch’s wife Strawberry. She had been a rather large subject of gossip throughout the stable after her continued refusal to allow medical examination upon finding out she was pregnant. Public dislike for the various medical exams was in no way uncommon with their high frequency in the stable, and as with any society, if something isn’t entirely understood it breeds paranoia and paranoia breeds rumours of conspiracies.

In Stable Epsilon, our primary objective is genetics research to be employed in creating the perfect generation of pony – both in body and mind. Yet the more ponies talked about it, the more one overriding question hung in the air – how did they conduct their research?

Of course, anypony who paid attention during their biology classes when they were foals would know that the laboratory staff do their research on a controlled level by using DNA samples obtained during the regular check-ups. Using those small samples of blood and saliva, as well as semen from the stallions and extracted eggs from the mares, they analyse the samples for defects or anything else that could cause problems, and they manipulate the protein structure of the gathered sperm and eggs to the desired healthy specifications. Then they monitor the growth of the organism until they can say for certain whether the manipulations will produce either a positive or negative result. Once the data has been recorded, the developing organism is terminated and disposed of. All very simple and very safe, or so I knew, others were more prone to gawking at such explanations followed by suspicion once they thought backs were turned.

It was natural that many ponies took some exception to the word “dispose” as some saw it as a type of murder, but many were respectful of the necessary evil, if it could even be called such, and knew that doing good doesn’t always mean feeling good. The organisms themselves can hardly be called foals anyway since they were always terminated before they fully developed and were never conceived by or desired by the two ponies whose DNA they used.

But some ponies were just plain irrational about it. It wasn’t just the medical exams she was refusing but any form of vaccination to her foal once it was born. I mean, the medical exams I can sort of understand, but endangering the life of your foal by inhibiting their immune system is ridiculous.

‘This is just not my day’ I thought to myself with a sigh as yet another concern was pushed under my muzzle. “She still won’t budge, will she?”

“That mare is as stubborn as the Stable door is sealed,” he responded, sinking back into a chair next to another stallion. “I’m at the end of my rope and I can’t even talk with her anymore before she accuses me of denying her wishes for a natural birth or some such,” he finished his sentence by dropping his head into his hooves.

As much as I craved a distraction, I really didn’t want to get pulled any further into the conversation. I wanted to go back to my quarters, take a soothing warm shower and have an early nice bedtime. However, before I could utter my best wishes and turn back to the screen of everlasting boredom I heard those dreadful, stomach sinking words,

“Why don’t we talk with her?”

Immediately my head turned so fast you could have heard each vertebra crack as I stared wide eyed at Sweet Drops. She stood there looking at Caramel with an expression that was either saying ‘I’m in over my head’ or ‘Why couldn’t I have just choked on those words?’ It was boggling how socially naive the poor mare could be at moments like this.

Caramel Crunch, being neither a clinical or rational pony, simply rolled his eyes and let loose his pent-up frustration upon the pony, “Oh and what exactly do you think you can do? The daughter of the Overmare and her best friend, both stuck in the prestigious position of data entry. Oh, yeah my naturalist wife is going to yield her position with how much trust she has in you two and your profound wisdom.”

“Well, we could at least… I-I don’t know, do, something,” Sweet stuttered out but each word seemed to become harder and harder to say coherently. I cringed for her as her ears folded back in meek defeat. Sadly, some things were better left alone, not that he should have been spouting off his personal problems in public to begin with.

For some reason the long and deep, defeated sigh Caramel let out seemed worse than him simply shouting at us. His voice took on a slightly lighter tone but lost none of the initial bite. “You know what. Fuck it, do whatever you like, I really don’t care. All I need right now is something to do that won’t fight me trying to fix it so before I snap, leave me alone.”

We gulped and did as we were told, mostly out of a desire to prevent our graves from being dug any deeper. Occasionally, I glanced over my shoulder to see Caramel busying himself with whatever he could get his hooves on. Roaming around from one piece of equipment to another, scanning every inch with his trained eyes for something that needed tinkering with, which fortunately it occasionally did, keeping him calm and occupied.

When the clock struck quitting time, I was hasty to logout of my terminal and stand to stretch my hooves. Now officially free for the rest of the day, I could think of nothing better than a hearty portion of rations and sitting in my room playing father’s guitar – well, once I got it back that was. If not, there was that little side project Sweet and I were working on. Risking another tongue lashing, I glanced over at Caramel once again. Either he hadn’t seen the time or – the more likely option – didn’t really care about that, continuing to work to absolve himself of stress.

Knowing a lost cause when I saw one, I made my way over to the door, checking to see if Sweet was ready to go. Seeing the hesitant look on her face and her left forehoof held partially aloft as if to reach out to Caramel, I gripped the neck of her barding with my magic and pulled her towards the door as it opened with the typical hiss. Releasing my grip on her barding once the door closed, I looked at her. “You’re too kind for your own good.”

“And you could stand to be a bit more altruistic,” she responded without missing a beat.

I levelled my narrowed eyes at her pointedly and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing, Miss Acoustic Recluse,” she replied innocently, muzzle in the air feigning disinterest.

“Hey, I’m not a recluse by choice, I don’t really have any other options,” I quipped back defensively, not that her accusation really meant much. She was just a friend, pushing my buttons to make me squirm.

“Oh, so that’s what you’re using to justify it now?” she said with a cheeky sway of her head.

I let out an irritated huff and enjoyed a few more moments of silence before the inevitable. Going by Sweet’s pattern of behaviour I could already guess what she was thinking and spoke up before she could, hopefully taking charge of the situation and preventing anything too drastic on Sweet’s part.

“You really aren’t going to let this go, are you?” I groaned out.

Sweet recoiled a bit as if my words were a needle plunging into her neck before sighing and lowering her head.

“I just—we really should do something. I know you’ve noticed his mood only getting worse and worse ever since this thing with Strawberry began. Plus, I’m sure no pony wants a repeat of what happened last time a mare gave birth naturally,” she argued, bringing up the probably consequences with palpable reluctance.

This time both of us winced at the painful idea. That had been a sobering time of our lives when we’d found out how birth before the blessings of modern medicine turned out. It was essentially a gamble, and often the foals got the shaft.

‘No, no, no none of that. Just push it down and stow it away.’ I thought to myself as I felt Sweet nudge my side, trying to bring me out of it.

“Look I know you’d rather stay out of this but you’re way better at making a convincing argument than I am. Please, you won’t have to owe me for earlier,” she offered as a nervous smile spread across her face.

Rolling my eyes, I shrugged. Not losing out on the chocolate might be worth it, if only barely. “If it helps put an end to this crazy debacle and lets me keep my rations, fine. But I can’t promise anything,” I grunted as Sweet pulled me into a warm, albeit crushing, hug. The mare could be surprisingly strong for her size when motivated.

“Oh, thank you Melody! Come on let’s go,” she announced jubilantly.

Meanwhile I did a double take. “What, now?! Can’t this wait till after we eat?” Much to my favour a small fumble from my tummy punctuated my remark.

As I talked with Sweet Drops, or rather as I tried talking Sweet Drops out of this, I saw my mother looking at me and sighing deeply. Already knowing that a chewing out if we dallied or turned around bothering her for nothing was coming, I decided it best to steam ahead.

Before she could even say a word, I tapped Sweet Drops on the shoulder, offering her a small -perhaps not entirely sincere- smile. "Fine, it seems like we're up anyway if the look mom is giving me is anything to go by, get the equipment," I prompted her, trying to sound cheerful about it. The charcoal mare sighed in response, about as eager to make this house call as I was in spite of it being her idea. She took the kits, though, and followed me to the door. "Well... We're off to see Strawberry!" I announced awkwardly and hastily left the labs with Sweet in tow.

"Melody, are you sure about this? I could ask somepony else." Sweet Drops said quite suddenly, almost startling me as she spoke up.

"I don't like it, but the foal's health is more important than our comfort, isn't it?" I argued back.

“Sure, and this has nothing to do with your mother…” she commented with a roll of her eyes.

******

It wasn’t long after leaving the data analysis lab that we found ourselves in Strawberry's living room. It was a simple and sparsely decorated room, but decorated in such a way that it did feel quite cosy and comfortable as if I was in my own room, and more importantly it felt welcoming. Which balanced out the reception we got from the ponies inside. It had been one of Strawberry’s friends that had opened the door and instantly launched into a profanity-laced tirade about how they wanted nothing to do with our experiments and where exactly we could stick our needles. Then she actually looked and realised it was Sweet Drops and me, which made her pause and break into a furious cascade apologies along with a blush before ushering us inside the room far more politely. There was however still an air of cautiousness about her, even if we were friendly faces we were still from that department of that Stable they were most upset at.

Sweet Drops and I soon after found ourselves sitting across from Strawberry and her four friends. The mares that surrounded her were almost like worried lionesses protecting their young. I won't lie, it was kind of unnerving how they stared at us warily, as if the wrong words would provoke them into pouncing on us with claws drawn and disposing of us. I took that thought and stuffed it into a safe in the back of my mind, then welded that safe shut.

"How are you, Strawberry?" I started with a slow breath, trying to hide my, probably, obvious discomfort. It seemed as good a place as any to start.

“Melody, please cut the bullshit. I know why you’re here,” she sneered. I ignored the venom in her voice. She was upset. More importantly, she was nearing the end of her pregnancy, so she was no doubt in a massive ball of hormones. “My husband sent you. I guess he wants foals to handle his problems now.”

I winced just a little at the icy accusation, even only half true as it was. "Strawberry, you've known me all my life, I am not going to force you into anything. Please take a moment to listen to me? I swear to Celestia, if you say no after this we will drop the entire subject. Forever.” I knew I didn’t actually have the authority to do that, but it was nice to see her calming down just a little from the promise. Not that we could do anything else after this – all bridges were essentially burned with tensions here so high. ”We just need to make a quick scan and a small blood sample to see if the foal is healthy. We’ve been living with a small gene pool for the better part of two-hundred years. We need to make sure that the little one doesn’t have any of the negative side effects that come with that, and if the foal does we can be ready to ensure they can live a normal healthy life. We're not going to do anything further, just a routine check-up like the ones you and I normally get." I put on my best reassuring tone, though I could see in her hard eyes that she wasn't having any of it.

"For the last time, Melody, I don't want anything. This is going to happen naturally. Without any of your tests," she spoke in a voice as hard and determined as steel. Her solidarity, if not backed by foolishness, was almost admirable. "I know you eggheads did something to Minty's foal. There is no other way to explain it. The little colt was born with two different eye colours! He is only a few months old and the colt already understands basic math! That isn't normal, it’s not natural! Whatever you did up there I don’t want any part of it," she reaffirmed, a look of disgust written on her face.

I couldn’t help but sigh softly in response, her stubbornness and fear mongering wearing on my nerves after an already stressful day.

“So, a potential mathematical genius is what scares you? Proof that our environment is creating smarter and healthier ponies is a bad thing now?” I asked insistently, perhaps a bit harsher than I had intended. “If you look at the data we’re healthier than the ponies before the war were! We have a life expectancy far greater than they did. But it is nothing we did! All our ancestors did was create the cure that has allowed us to retain a healthy population without the adverse effects of inbreeding, but we need to keep on top of things or it’ll all be for nothing.”

“That’s not the point, Melody, and you know it. Think about it! Minty’s foal is the only one to develop that quickly in the subject out of the 10 foals born in the last birth season, but he’s also the only one without functioning hind legs. I am not subjecting my foal to your experiments! No one’s foal is worth that kind of risk, but at least I can keep mine safe.” She was getting worked up, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the mare. She wasn’t the only mare like this. But she was one of the more paranoid ones.

‘Another mare buying into the conspiracy theories,’ I silently lamented to myself

“So that’s it then? You’re going to risk giving birth without any check-ups? Do you remember the last mare that did that and what happened? Strawberry, please.” I should have probably shut up and left then and there, but instead I opened my big mouth, letting lose a rather inflammatory and taboo topic to simply talk about in the Stable. ”There are no experiments. I admit that there are some statistical anomalies like Minty’s colt… but the entire stable is related by this point. Maybe the cure wasn’t perfect. Maybe that’s the reason.” I sighed deeply, feeling like I was grasping at straws at this point. “I don’t want to risk my nephew.”

“You say that, but how can I trust you? You are Professor Delight’s daughter.” She paused for a moment looking conflicted, but then after a moment she gave me a long, steady, withering glare having resolved whatever doubts she had. “And you. You take the cake. Your ability to learn and absorb knowledge terrified the foals around you. Whatever your mother did to make you, it was not natural, no pony ever saw her walking around pregnant either. You never wondered why you were home-schooled by your mother? You’re one of her insane pet projects!” In her passion, she had moved up and was standing with two hooves on the table glaring down at me. “And you dare tell me there is nothing going on!? While no pony even knows how you came into existence?”

I sat there stunned for a long moment. Social situations had never been my strong point but I was passable there. For this, though, I had no answer for. I just stared at the mare, shell-shocked by what she had said. Was that what ponies though of my mother? Of me? But I had a father. If I wasn’t born naturally there was a reason for it! Maybe mother was barren? Maybe another mare carried me to term? Surrogacy spells were a thing. Yes. That was probably it, if this mare wasn’t just repeating decade old rumours that was.

I was pulled up quite suddenly, Sweet Drops’ wing was around me and she smiled at me kindly as she drew me out of my sobering thoughts. I dumbly followed as she spoke once more to Strawberry, "We won't force you If you don't want to. There are no experiments going on though. I know what I say won’t make a difference and it doesn’t matter, just so long as you know what you're getting into." She gave Strawberry a little half smile as she tried to reassure the mare while we retreated, "The reason for the tests and scans is to find the reason why foals are born like Minty’s. Honestly, I think Melody’s theory about the cure not being quite perfect has validity to it, there was a war on back then after all. We don’t even know if your foal is even entirely healthy but whether it is or not isn't affecting anypony else. We just wanted to be thorough." She said quite confidently, that confidence quickly wavered upon seeing the glare from one of the mares intensify. The one probably most vocal about this entire genetic experimentation nonsense, actually she had been the one to start the entire thing alongside the maintenance chief Ground Gears if I recognised her correctly. "I'll pass on to everyone to leave you alone about it Strawberry. It's your foal and your choice."

She smiled thankfully at that. I didn’t return it. "I'll be sure to make something nice for the little one." Sweet Drops said pleasantly while I remained silent.

We then took our leave from them, the goodbyes were a little more pleasant than the greetings we had exchanged though they felt every bit as insincere. Not that I really cared. For once my mind wasn’t constantly roaring with thoughts. It was like everything had crashed to a halt, and honestly it was scary. I leaned into Sweet Drops’ side and looked at her, releasing a sigh.

"Well, this is going to be a problem." I softly whispered on the way back to the laboratory. I stuffed the thoughts into the same safe that I had the other uncomfortable ideas and memories locked away in, welding it shut once more. ‘Nope, nope, nope. Don’t think about it!’ I mentally screamed. I was not going to spiral down that road to ruin.

"Come on, let's get that chocolate for you, huh? You’ve earned it.” I said with a slightly forced grin, bumping flanks with her. She sighed in annoyance at me.

"Melody, this can wait until after we’ve handed over our duties to the C-shift, you know how annoyed they get if we don’t do it right away." She tried her best to remain serious, though the pouty look I was giving her made it hard for the mare to remain serious for long. She sighed deeply and returned the flank bump "Fine, you win," Sweet finally relented, making me grinned broadly, both at the thought of the coming chocolate and victoriously having won her over once more.

Pushing her towards the cafeteria I smirked just a little. "Say, have time to work on our little project tomorrow evening?"

"I can't, Melody. I promised Prism I would spend some time with him," she said hurriedly, a blush playing on her cheeks. “You know he can’t get off from maintenance a lot, with the accident and all. Gears is having him run double shifts, again.”

"Ah well, have fun then." I smiled at her sweetly, even though I sighed inwardly. Great, another night alone, I thought to myself, ears drooping a little as I dropped behind her a touch. I probably should be happy for her, but I couldn’t help feeling slightly envious of another getting to spend time with my one friend.

Footnote:

Autumn Melody Delight:
Strength: 2
Perception: 7
Endurance: 3
Charisma: 4
Intelligence: 10
Agility: 3
Luck: 1

Traits:

• Stable Dweller: You start the game with a PipBuck. Your starting Survival score is only (Luck / 2, rounded down) and your starting Poison and Radiation Resistances are 0.
  
• Deep Sleeper: You sleep more soundly than most. You regain an additional 5 points of Strain per hour of sleep. You regain TP while sleeping in poor environments as if you were sleeping safe in your bed. Unfortunately, you automatically fail Perception checks to wake up unless you take damage or someone spends a full turn waking you.
  
• Four Eyes: You are practically blind without prescription glasses. Your perception is reduced to 1 when not wearing them.

Story perk:
Gifted: You, like many ponies in Stable Epsilon, were born with above average talents. This has led to you mastering a field, discipline, or craft in one third of what most ponies would spend a lifetime to achieve. This came at a great cost… the depths of which you are unsure of.

Author's Note

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I would like to give a huge thanks to Kkat for creating Fallout: Equestria and making this story possible.

A huge thank you to Shutter Speed who co-wrote this with me.

I would also like to thank Fuzzy Fabricator, Troposphere, Silent Whisper, ScopeEva, and GraveDigger for editing and helping me make this story readable.

I would also like to give a massive thank you to my Patreon supporters:
> Fuzzy Fabricator
> Dr_MindQuill
> Richer19
> Psy Key
> Luminescent Aurora
> Darkaito Bruns
> Shanaar
> sixkiller5

If you like what you've read here, then please consider supporting me on Patreon! The support is greatly appreciated!

I would of course also like to thank you lovely people for reading this chapter!

With that I will sign off,
Happy Hunting everypony!