//------------------------------//
// Expedition 
// Story: FOE: The Lost Archives of Stable 36 
// by Hiddenfaithy 
//------------------------------//


Expedition



"Watch your step."


The Geiger counter clicked rhythmically, announcing the dangers of where the expedition team had found themselves. Approximately twenty miles from the hills Stable 36 was buried beneath, a former town was cropped up between debris and burned trees. Most of the buildings were rubble, brick, and mortar reduced to loose piles and ash. There were no signs of those who once lived here, an unnamed town almost missed amongst the rolling hills of outer Baltimare. At one point it was most likely a suburb of the metropolitan powerhouse, but now none knew its name. The paint had long since weathered away, leaving dull concrete and color-stripped bricks that waned in the cold wind. The place was forgotten by the whole world.

A group of seven ponies carefully approached the ruins, armed with battle saddles or telekinetically gripped rifles. They were an uneven mix of earth ponies and unicorns, with a stallion at the lead. His black mane stuck to his horn beneath his hazmat suit, only his Pip-Buck exposed to the surface’s dangerous elements. The green glow that emitted from it bathed the ruins in more color than would otherwise be found. Despite it being noon, the world was bathed in grey hues thanks to the thick cloud over that extended from horizon to horizon. Ratchet scanned the desolate town for any signs of danger, his attention split between what his own eyes saw, and the HUD the Pip-Buck projected. Nothing showed on his EFS, only the green blips of his allies, and he slowly advanced into the ruins.

Bugs skittered somewhere in the ruins, wings fluttering and arthropod legs tapping over rock and concrete. They showed as yellow on his EFS, neither hostile nor friendly, and dipped in and out of the magical radar’s range rapidly. Ratchet grimaced and barked a few orders of caution to his expedition team. Clipped acknowledgments filled the ear bloom Ratchet wore, and he grunted as he continued his approach. A bakery was on his left, rotten cakes displayed in a shattered window. Across the way was a clothing shop, potential materials catching Ratchet’s eye. He ordered a trio to investigate while another two went into the bakery for any non-perishables that could still exist. 

Ratchet and a guard waited on the street for reports, tension creeping down his spine the longer it took. Eventually, the bakery team returned with a few pre-war MREs found tucked away in a cupboard, but everything else was spoiled or gone.  The clothing shop turned up better results, an earth pony dragging a crate of leather and cloth on a sleigh. The two unicorns that had gone with them wore saddlebags that were overflowing with crafting materials and Ratchet sighed in relief at such a find. The stable only had so many textiles and every clumsy dweller cost them more and more material.

They continued down the pot-hole-riddled street where the small commercial district immediately shifted into residential buildings. A two-story was reduced to rubble with a chariot poking out from beneath the debris. Nearby more insects skittered, avoiding the explorers’ view. A mare twitched at the noises, ready to fire the moment one of the overgrown bugs crossed their path. The earth ponies had a modified battle saddle given they couldn’t use their mouth to operate the grip, and rather a latch that could be pushed with their snout. Ratchet knickered at her to calm down, and she huffed but obeyed. Their searches of the ruined homes proved fruitless, only skeletons long since picked clean and burned furniture all that remained. Ratchet suspected somepony had scavenged the nameless town between the hundred and seventy years since its destruction and now.

Reaching the end of the main street, Ratchet ordered the group to halt. There were red dots on the radar, fading in and out of the edges of its reach. Gun barrels twitched nervously around him, the expedition team greatly unnerved. Ratchet cautiously approached the community hall that was half-sunken into the dirt, only the upper windows viable entrances. He hadn’t gone more than ten paces when the ground beneath him gave way, spider-webbing out at such a rapid pace Ratchet didn’t have time to retreat. A scream ripped through his mask as he tumbled downward, a pit of black gaping wide to swallow him whole. 

Ratchet descended only a few moments before the lurch of telekinesis stopped him, multiple auras surrounding him as the unicorns of the expedition desperately pulled him back from certain death. He inhaled briskly as concrete once more was underhoof, legs shaking as doubt of its integrity rocketed through him. His saviors were all doubled over catching their breath, while the earth ponies hesitantly tested the edges of the unexpected sinkhole. Ratchet thanked his rescuers individually, getting a mix of ‘of course’ and ‘you owe me’.

When he peered over the gaping edge into the blackness below his stomach churned with fear. He couldn’t smell thanks to his hazmat suit, but his mind churned up scents of dust and stale air. The Geiger counter was screaming on his right hoof. To his sheer horror, something moved in the pitch, green and sickly. Eyes stared up at the expedition team, coming open slowly with a lethargy like a creature awoken from a deep slumber. They shuffled like wounded equines, shattered hooves stomped and scrapped over the rubble. Dozens of eyes looked up at them now, twisted frames barely visible in the din. They were waiting, patient, lurking. 

Ratchet didn’t wait to see if the creatures were feral, all he saw were red targets in his EFS. “Open fire!” The expedition team obeyed with great vigor.