A Mercurial Expedition
“We never speak of this, do you understand?”
Rain was still such a strange sensation to the expeditioners. It battered into the surface with thunderous applause, echoing throughout the ruins they sheltered in. It felt as if the whole world was shaking, getting washed away one raindrop after another until only the colorless rubble remained. Ratchet stuck his covered hoof out from beneath their shelter and closed his eyes. Running off from the slanted roof turned the already heavy rain into a waterfall. For a few moments, Ratchet could pretend he was back in the stable, showering in the safety of his quarters. Then a rumble of thunder split the peaceful daydream and grounded the unicorn in reality.
“How much longer are we going to be out here?” Grumbled a small stallion as he squinted into the rain, keeping watch for any threats.
“I don’t imagine this rain will be clearing up anytime soon,” Ratchet replied, not bothering to look at the scout. “At least we found cover this time.”
“This time,” muttered the younger unicorn. He fiddled with his rifle, taking care it remained dry. “What do you think this place once was?”
Ratchet examined the burned wood shelves and tattered remains of books that encircled them. Some had been propped up to cover blasted away sections of walls, while ratty couches sat in one corner. If he squinted hard enough he could just make out a portrait of a purple unicorn encouraging foals to read. “A library.”
“Shit, really?” The young stallion balked, “this is nothing like the stable’s.”
“Ours is intact.” Ratchet shook his head and ran a hoof through his black mane. It was far dirtier than he liked, and the thought of showering in the downpour would have been tempting if not for the clicking on his pip-buck that increased with every lightning strike. He tugged his hazard suit a bit closer, checking for any holes or tears but the barding was solid. The only thing he wasn’t wearing was the helmet, as between the scans he was eating an MRE. He frowned at the taste of dehydrated refried beans, but it was at least full of necessary nutrition.
Scattered throughout the ruined library was the rest of his team. Five ponies tucked into the rotting pillars and destroyed shelves, concealing them from prying eyes. The clink of utensils on tin cans was barely audible over the downpour. A small campfire was in the deepest part of the former library, where the roof was fully intact and the debris arranged so as to obscure the warm glow. They had already been attacked more than once thanks to their fires, and they learned quickly to hide them. Ratchet looked to the horizon, hopeful no threats were encroaching but his EFS reassured them of their relative safety.
The radstorm burned around them, crackling like an angry creature. He couldn’t help but wonder just how much the world’s elements had been distorted, all those years ago. The surface had been better than he’d imagined, and yet more horrific than possible. The land was somewhat recovered, certain areas ripe for farming and plant growth returning. However, thanks to the radiation and constant cloud cover, what came back was startlingly different from the controlled environments of the stable’s orchards and hydroponics. It was grey, sickly, and weak, with only the most determined of plants yielding harvest. They would need to install solar arrays to substitute the lack of sunlight if they were to survive off surface food.
Ratchet remembered his refried beans and grimaced, how much of it was from the surface? How many rads was he injecting right then through his own food? He hated how everything was trying to kill the living, even the ground, and air. For once he wanted to find something genuinely peaceful, or at least indifferent.
“Boss,” the young stallion said, Firesnap if Ratchet remembered correctly. “Do you think… we’re going to be okay?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll purge the rads out when we get home and Medical will patch up any damage.”
“No, I mean the stable. I know the Overmare wants to explore what’s around us and that makes sense, but that daughter of yours is suggesting settling up here. A farm makes some sense but living on the surface?”
Ratchet leveled his gaze on Firesnap, frowning. “Are you questioning my daughter, your future Overmare?”
“I mean- a little-”
“Good.”
Firesnap blinked, mouth agape for a few moments before he shook himself and looked around. The others weren’t reacting to their conversation, but they very well could have been listening. “Good?”
“We should always question authority, especially when our lives are in the balance. Feel free to tell me any doubts you have.”
“I… okay. Well, she’s a bit awkward don’t you think? I don’t know if she’s as personable as Clear Falls. Half the time she feels emotionless when she talks to ponies, at least when she’s giving orders. Which, how can she, she’s not overmare yet. It feels weird to me that this kid is acting like my boss when she’s not.”
Nickering, Ratchet gave a subtle shrug. “It’s what Stable-Tec dictated.”
“What, a bunch of pre-war politicians who undermined the princesses to build shelters because that meant losing the war was a real risk?”
“Surely they knew better than us,” Ratchet replied, “after all, they’re the ones who made all the rules that have kept us alive. We’re just a bunch of scared foals hiding behind their protective shield.”
Firesnap growled and spat into the dirt. “Stable-Tec is dead. They did their best, sure, but they don't know what we really face. They couldn’t have. So, I think we should adapt, change things up.” Then, as if remembering who he was speaking with, he cleared his throat. “Within reason, of course.”
“Of course.” Ratchet gave a dry smile. “I’ll keep in mind what you said.”
Warily, Firesnap nodded. “Sure… Sure.”
Ratchet gestured towards the campfire. “Get some rest while the storm is still raging. We’ll move out once it’s cleared.”
Three hours had passed waiting for the storm to clear but it hadn’t shown any hint of weakening. Ratchet frowned as he watched the downpour, once more fully protected by his hazmat suit. He didn’t like the way his horn pressed against the clear, rounded visor, but it was better than the alternative. According to his pip-buck, he hadn’t been exposed to too much radiation, nothing a simple dose of radaway couldn’t solve. His mouth still tasted of chalk from when he’d taken his rad-x, and he did his best to ignore it. “You should take a break,” came the rumbly voice of Shadow Shy, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Eh, I can keep watching longer. Doesn’t look like it’ll break anytime soon.”
Shadow Shy sat next to him and adjusted her helmet. “So, time to rest. You haven’t yet.”
“Is that your expert opinion?” Ratchet smirked at her.
“As the medic? Yes. As your friend? Even more so.”
Ratchet arched a brow at her. “We’re friends now, are we?”
“This our tenth expedition together, so I’d say as much.”
“I don’t really make friends, it gets messy. Plus, I don’t want to make Clear Falls jealous,” he replied with a laugh. It sounded positively fake.
The dark earth pony snickered and shook her head. “I don’t think she can get jealous of anything. The Overmare is a wonderful mare, you’re lucky to have her.”
Ratchet’s mirth faded and he looked back out to the storm. “Yeah.”
“Don’t sound too sure of that,” nickered Shadow Shy.
Shrugging, he kept his gaze locked away. “It’s hard to remember that when she sends me away so much,” he replied carefully. “I don’t remember the last time we shared a bed.”
Shadow Shy gave an understanding nod. “Well, I understand that some. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my husband.”
“Is that the only reason why?”
“What are you getting at?” Shadow Shy asked coldly.
Ratchet shrugged as if he meant nothing by it beyond simple conversation. “We’ve seen some twisted things out here, fought even stranger ones. It’s hard to forget it all. I’ll admit, it makes it hard to smile sometimes.”
“I just focus on what I have back home to protect,” Shadow Shy said firmly.
A long moment passed between them, only the downpour making any noise. Finally, he grunted. “I suppose that works. Now, go back to bed, I’ll keep watch still, you haven’t talked me out of it.”
“Old bastard,” grumbled Shadow Shy, “just rest for once in-” Her words were cut short suddenly, and she went rigid.
Ratchet blinked as his vision was obscured, something covering the left side of his visor. His heart stopped. Blood. “Shadow Shy!” He shouted as he turned to her, the mare trembling as her neck sprayed crimson. Leaping forward, he pulled her to the ground as a series of shots buried themselves in the wall they’d been against. She gulped and wheezed, fumbling with the medkit on her hip. Ratchet threw it open with his magic and ripped her helmet off in a singular motion. A healing potion was pressed to her shivering lips at the same moment her leg exploded from another bullet. She screamed and choked on the healing drink.
“I need cover! Dust Sweets, shield!” A unicorn mare came running at his call, an arcane bubble encasing them. It rippled under a barrage of gunfire, violet magic threatening to give out at an alarming speed.
“Boss!” Firesnap shouted, “I don’t see anything on EFS! Where are these guys?”
“West, they must be too far out for our sensors!”
“They can see us through the rain?”
“Assume they can! Help me get Shadow Shy out of here!” The small stallion rushed forward and grabbed the mare with his telekinesis. Together they hauled her back behind the library's more solid walls, Dust Sweets retreating alongside them.
A scream ripped out of the mare as her shield broke and a trio of shots penetrated her suit. The sound of bones cracking was terrifying. She collapsed a few feet out and a burly stallion darted forward to pull her into cover. Basket Fall grunted as he recovered his teammate, and then pulled on his battle saddle. “That’s two of us down, boss,” he stated as Firesnap helped secure his straps. He’d been one of the ponies sleeping, and it showed in the bleariness of his red eyes. A unicorn, Dingo, rushed over to where Dust Sweets lay, wounded but not killed.
“They caught us completely unawares, but they’ve got enough firepower to keep us pinned down,” Ratchet replied with an eerily calm tone. If the others hadn’t been used to it they might have become concerned. Their leader was planning, and they trusted him to get them out of this mess.
“They’re too far for our sensors, but what if they’ve got us surrounded?” Carrot Delight, a cream earth pony, asked in a frantic voice. “We can’t run if it means going into a firing line.”
“Calm down,” ordered Ratchet. “You’re our stealthiest so I need you to focus if we’re making it out of this.”
She gave a frantic nod, gulping down filtered air. “What’s the plan?”
Squinting around the cover, Ratchet tried to see where they were getting attacked from. In the flashes of lightning, he could just make out forms running through the rain, water dripping off unseen hides. “They’re invisible,” he gaped, genuine fear creeping within him. “It’s not as effective in the rain but our EFS isn’t picking them up. I can barely see them as it is.”
“Could they know?” Asked Firesnap as he rapidly applied bandages to Shadow Sky’s throat. She gurgled and choked on her own blood.
“Act as if they do and we’ll stay alive!” Ordered Ratchet as he observed Shadow Shy. She wouldn’t survive without proper treatment soon. Dingo had Dust Sweets back on her hooves, shaky but standing. Her hazmat suit was torn, revealing the leather armor beneath that had absorbed most of the damage. “Getting Shadow Sky out is our priority, am I understood?”
“Roger!” They called back in unison.
A hail of bullets chewed away at their cover. Ratchet flinched and gritted his teeth. They were relentless. “They’re not firing at us from the east, so either they haven’t encircled us or they’re waiting for us to run that way. Carrot, go find out which.”
“What if they see me?” She squealed, orange eyes wide.
“You’re our best chance. Take a quick look and report back.” There was no reassurance in his words, only hard facts. Gulping, the mare dashed away. “Firesnap, keep tending to Shadow Sky. Dingo, help Dust Sweets. Basket Fall, give us covering fire.”
Grunting an affirmative, the burly stallion stepped around the pillar and his battle saddle came to life. It barked out an angry retort as he held his snout to the trigger, yellow blooms illuminating the library’s ruinous remains. It was then, in the cracks of gunfire, that Ratchet caught sight of something that made his heart stop. Water dripped off an equine shape, but nothing could be seen beneath it. One of them had made it inside.
Acting on pure instinct, Ratchet slipped into SATS and targeted his unseen foe. They were still immune to EFS, but he was able to vaguely point his weapon in their direction. His shotgun blasted them away before his enemy could blink. An explosion of blood coated Firesnap and the walls. A heavy thunk signaled the enemy had collapsed, and a moment later a zebra materialized before them, wearing a strange suit. Runes had been carved into patchwork leather somewhat crudely, and they flickered twice before dying out.
“Zebras?” Gaped Dust Sweets. “I don’t know anything to counter their magic.”
“That’s not just zebra magic,” Ratchet murmured, taking a few moments to understand his enemy. The shotgun had destroyed a mask they’d been wearing, revealing wide eyes, a mohawk of black and white dyed red with blood. A horn protruded between the soiled strands of hair. A trio of strange metal collars hung on their hip, blinking now that they’d been revealed. “It’s a zony. A slaver zony.”
Carrot Delight’s scream ripped through the ruined library, followed by hateful cackles. She limped back into their cover with shame, dragging a bleeding leg. “They saw me… they’re surrounding us. They’ll be here any second!”
“We surrender!” Ratchet screamed, pulling Basket Fall just enough to stop him from firing again. The burly brown stallion blinked in confusion but obeyed. “We surrender!”
Confusion and fear spilled over the expedition team’s faces, only Shadow Sky too disorientated to listen as she struggled to breathe. A shuffling of hooves over debris revealed an approaching slaver, Ratchet grimacing as he knew well they could only hear the slaver approach because they wanted them to know. As the radstorm rumbled, a bulky equine came striding in from the east. They wore the same patchwork leather suit as the dead zony did, their mask still well in place. Just behind sewn-in goggles, golden eyes glared at them.
Ratchet threw his shotgun down and stood upright. “We surrender.” Slowly his team followed suit, disarming themselves at their leader’s behest.
“How unusual, most of your folk fight until the bitter end,” replied the equine in a thick voice. He was more refined in tone than Ratchet expected. “Do you understand your situation?”
“You’re slavers,” Ratchet replied. “So if we surrender, you’ll take us alive. That right?”
A chuckle came from the stranger, who removed his helmet. A gasp shot through the stable ponies as he revealed himself as a zebra. “Correct. You do realize we could inflict unspeakable horrors upon you once you’re our slaves, don’t you?”
“Better than being dead.”
A grin spread across the zebra’s face and he stepped closer to them. Basket Fall moved protectively in front of his team, and Ratchet maintained the harsh glare of the zebra. “Few would agree.”
“I’ve always been an outsider of herd mentality. Now are you going to take us, or not?”
“A unicorn is never fully disarmed,” replied the zebra as he gestured to Ratchet. “But we can take care of that. However, I see one of you is struggling to stay in this mortal realm. What use is she to me?”
“Leverage. We couldn’t possibly escape with her in such a condition, so we have to obey.”
“You stating that doesn’t inspire much confidence that is true.”
“If you stabilize her, the other unicorns and I will obey.”
“I’m not particularly fond of the word of others,” he replied. There was a hint of caution to his eyes, cunning Ratchet recognized.
“Then we are of the same mind. However, that poses an impasse. You don’t want to waste any horsepower on moving a gravely injured slave. Have your other new slave do it.” Ratchet gestured to Basket Fall and gave the most winning smile he could. The bulky earth pony blinked at his leader, red eyes burning with anger.
“If I expend the resources to save her,” replied the slaver, “she ought to be worth it.”
Ratchet nodded rapidly, trying to portray himself as more desperate than he felt but the truth was he was utterly afraid. An unknown number of enemies surrounded them that could turn invisible and it terrified him to his core. “Our compliance and reassurance that you won’t have to waste resources or time will prove to be worthwhile, and she herself is a medic. Save her and you can save dozens more.”
“What is your name?” The zebra asked. From the shadows four more dressed like him emerged. Two of them had horns that were covered by modified helmets, but Ratchet was no longer sure if he was dealing with ponies or zonies.
“Ratchet. Yours?”
“Zuberi, son of Hodari.”
“…Ratchet Aura,” he replied, trying to match such formality. This zebra was unlike any other hostile wastelanders he’d encountered. It made his brown hide itch beneath his armor all the more.
Zuberi gave a slow nod, as if pleased. “Well then, Ratchet Aura, as you were able to kill one of my own, I shall let you go. Such skill should be commended. Go, now. Your team shall make fine slaves.”
Ratchet squinted in blatant distrust but said nothing. He took a step away from the others, shocked gasps and accusatory glares were cast his way. Firesnap seemed the most wounded by his silent agreement. “Boss-”
“Shut up and obey your new master,” interrupted Ratchet. Firesnap recoiled and lowered his head. “We both know I’ll never make it home alone. Keep yourselves alive.”
A squeak came from Carrot Delight as a slaver prodded her with their gun. Magic gathered around Dust Sweets’ horn and before anypony could blink, a loud crack split the air. The mare was on the ground, twitching beneath the heavy hoof of Zuberi. Her horn was being ground into the dirt. “No magic,” Zuberi purred.
Heart clenching, Ratchet watched on. He had never seen such speed. “Listen to him!” Screamed Carrot Delight. “Don’t get us killed!” Dingo pressed against the mare, holding her back from rushing to their friend’s aid. “Please!”
“You have such caring friends,” chuckled Zuberi, “worried about their fragile lives. There’s a spirit in you, wounded as you are you still try to fight. Yes, we’ll take you all back.” He pointed a hoof at Ratchet. “You, however, best start running.”
On pure instinct, the stallion obeyed.
An hour had passed since Ratchet had begun his desperate flight from the ruined library. During that time the downpour of radioactive rain had only increased, fully masking what was visible to the terrified stallion. Mud soiled his boots, sweat sticking to his hide while his breath fogged up his visor. The ground shifted beneath him and he tripped. A splash of mud barely softened the impact, and Ratchet groaned in frustration.
With a bit of effort, he was able to look over his shoulder.
His EFS showed him the enemies he could not see. Perhaps their invisibility was temporary, or they wanted him to know he was being followed. Either way, he didn’t like it and knew he couldn’t return to the stable with such unwanted company. He struggled to his hooves and shook himself. Lightning illuminated the puddles around him, giving Ratchet a clear view of his surroundings. A half-smile slipped across his face at the sight of a hole several yards away. He’d scouted it just the day before.
Making his steady but careful way over, Ratchet began to crawl through the tight passageway of rock and mud. Water streamed inside, echoing through the corridor. Wiggling and grunting, Ratchet progressed further underground. The rumble of thunder turned into rushing water the further down Ratchet got. He squinted against the darkness, afraid of using his pip-buck’s light and giving away where he’d gone. Eventually, he’d wormed his way down into an opening expanse. There were a few cracks in the ceiling of dirt and stone, water, and faint light pouring through. What little he could discern revealed exactly what he had hoped for.
Shifting noises from behind mixed between the water, telling Ratchet he’d been followed. His EFS confirmed as much, as well as dozens of red dots further into the cave. The first time Ratchet had discovered one of these sinkholes he’d nearly died. Only his team saved him from certain death. For a moment he felt a tug in his heart, a desire foreign to him swelling up. Grimacing, he shook it off and trotted into the sunken cabin. Long since rotten floorboards creaked beneath the unicorn as he shuffled through it. Something deep within grumbled a rasping growl that demanded answers. Ratchet held his breath and found the darkest spot he could hide in. His pip-buck ticked in warning of radiation but he only covered the tool up to mute the noise.
Three minutes passed before the door to the cabin came flying open, his pursuers making themselves known. Something spherical came rolling in, thumping on the slanted, rotten floor. Ratchet pressed himself against the old desk he was hiding behind and closed his eyes. A bang of light brought with it a sharp whining noise that echoed in his ears, but otherwise, Ratchet remained unharmed from the flashbang. The noise had, however, drawn others. With a howl of fury, the cabin shook. The slavers balked, cursing at their luck.
A wave of red filled the corner of Ratchet’s vision. Twisted bodies came crashing through broken windows and rotting holes. A trio stumbled down a slanted stairwell and collapsed into a pile of irradiated flesh. Shattered hooves stomped over the floorboards as the feral ghouls encircled their prey. The pair of slavers let loose a torrent of gunfire as the slobbering husks of former ponies attacked. Five fell dead to bullets before a ghoul had gotten close enough to attack. One slaver screamed as his armor tore, revealing striped fur beneath. There was a flash of blood followed by the snarls of ghouls. Like a living tide, they rose and fell as one, pieces of the zebra intermixed.
Ghouls acted on a level of instinct that frightened Ratchet to his very core. It wasn’t clear if ferals still needed to eat or not, but they assuredly acted as if they did. They snapped and snarled at one another for getting in their way, feeding like beasts upon a carcass. The remaining slaver kept shooting, desperately trying to back up but he was surrounded. There was no escaping his fate.
Ratchet crept towards one of the broken windows, taking care to be as quiet as possible. By the time he’d reached the shattered frames, the second slaver had fallen. Tearing flesh and hungry maws became a horrifying concerto, the screams fallen silent. Nine of the ghouls lay dead from bullets, and a dozen more devoured the zebras. His enemies were so distracted Ratchet was able to slip out without being noticed. He snuck along the cavern’s flooding floor with sloshing steps, and not soon enough reached the slope’s entrance.
A dozen roars came from the cabin.
Running from death, Ratchet rushed up the flooded passage. He squirmed and crawled through the muck, splattering his hazmat suit along the way. His EFS told him of the encroaching death, but his body did even more so. His hair stood on end, his legs shook and his heart raced. Undoubtedly he would meet the same fate as the slavers if he was caught. A faint bit of light rushed along the water, he was drawing near the entrance. Ghouls fought one another in an attempt to pursue him, scrambling over one another and wriggling like worms. The downpour had turned the tunnel into more mud than anything else, what rocks were present smooth and easily slipped upon.
It felt as if he was drowning. His visor was awash in rain, barely able to see what was ahead. Mud caked his body, sticking to his hazmat suit and weighing him down. Fog from his heavy breathing made it all the harder to see, and sweat trickled along his brown hide. Focusing his magic into a shield, he tried to protect his visor only to get the same result. The tunnel was collapsing around him, closing up like a wound. The light was fading fast. Ratchet screamed, a primal urge filling him from the hooves up. He refused to die here, trapped in mud and eaten by ghouls. Pride burned hot within him.
He emerged into the surface with a pained gasp. The slurping of mud tried to pull him back under, and he struggled out. As if pulling himself from quicksand, the stallion fought for every inch he could out of the tunnel. By the time he’d dragged himself to the edges of hard rock, the rain had reduced the passageway into the sinkhole into nothingness. Ratchet looked back at his near-death, barely able to see it in the downpour. Huffing, he collapsed against rocks far too sturdy to slip beneath the ground. Exhausted hooves ripped his helmet off, letting the cold rain wash over him. He ignored the ticking on his hoof.
“Fuck,” Ratchet muttered to himself. Black hair stuck to his face and horn, plastered in place by the torrential rains. His head swooned as he recovered, feeling as if he was falling back into the dirt. “Shit.” A painful realization settled upon him. If he was going to have any chance of making it home, he would need allies. He had to save at least one of his team. They surely wouldn’t forgive him for giving them up as he did, however. He mulled over his options, but it didn’t take long for him to settle on his best hope. Grunting, he rose to his worn hooves and pulled his helmet back on.
“You better still be alive Firesnap…”
Shadow Shy’s critical condition had proven to Ratchet’s benefit. It had taken him only two hours to catch back up with the slavers. They were camped out of an old town hall, a sniper in the bell tower though the rain now concealed Ratchet from his enemies. He smirked to himself that the wasteland was equally unforgiving, and could be taken advantage of by the clever. Having ditched his yellow hazmat suit to sneak his way closer, Ratchet was hunched beneath a window with a rock in his hoof. Rain chilled him, soaking through his stable suit at an exponential rate. Its dark blues and the patches of reinforced brown leather were worth the risk of the yellow stripes giving him away.
From the other side of the window, he could hear soft conversations, the kind amongst desperate ponies. He wrapped a cloth around his hoof and a rock to soften the noise, and punched through. Glass fragments skittered across a dirty floor and a few gasps rose above the noise. Ratchet poked his head through and scowled. “You’re not my team,” he accused.
Several ponies in clear agony blinked at him, collars that blinked red around their throats. They were emaciated, ribs showing through mangy fur and eyes sunken. “N-no,” replied a pegasus. Most of their feathers had been plucked, leaving grotesque limbs that hung sadly. Ratchet stared for a few moments. He’d never seen a pegasus before. However, he refused to allow himself to get caught up in the disturbing sight and shook his head.
“Have you seen a group of ponies in hazmat suits? One of them was severely injured.”
The pegasus nodded. “They took her to the medic. On the second floor.”
“Good, then they’re here. Where are the others?” Hesitance crossed the slaves’ faces, and they muttered to one another. Ratchet growled and pulled a knife from his belt. “Tell me or I’ll kill you.”
“Please!” The pegasus yelped, rushing forward with a burst of speed that startled Ratchet. He stumbled back from the window into the mud. The backlighting of the room only further terrified Ratchet as he watched the pegasus. “They already killed my son, I don’t want to live as their slave.”
“It can’t be worse than death,” countered Ratchet as he gathered himself.
“I want to die.”
“Then go running off like all the others!” Snarled one of the other slaves. “The collar will take your head off for you.”
The pegasus, a new slave Ratchet presumed, looked at the other slaves. “It will?”
“Yes. Now go if you’re serious or shut up. You, stranger, are you here to free your friends?” The slave rasped. Ratchet blinked as he realized she was a unicorn, her horn sawn off at the base of the skull. A chill ran down his body.
“Yes- hey!” Ratchet snarled as the pegasus pushed past him, forcing their way through the shattered glass of the window. Blood left trails as they fled, starved enough to fit through the relatively small segment. The pegasus laughed, joyful as they raced to their death. The red light on their collar beeped in increasing fervor until it was constant. A moment later there was an explosion, small enough to not cause too much concern but large enough to do its intended purpose. The pegasus’ head was gone in a fine mist and their body collapsed into the mud.
Several shouts came from around the encampment. “Dammit!” Cursed Ratchet as the town hall came to life. He had done so well sneaking in, and now that slave had ruined it for him. He stomped a hoof and glared at the slaves. “Where is my team? I have to go- now!”
“Most of your team is being educated out back. They’re in a pen, with the refuse. Two of them tried fighting back and Zuberi doesn’t take kindly to unicorn magic.” The slave pointed to the south. “Go, hurry!”
Without a word of thanks, Ratchet took off into a gallop. It was clear this encampment was somewhat permanent from the reinforcements. A palisade encircled the former town hall with warning skulls just visible in the downpour. The hoofsteps of alert slavers sounded all around Ratchet, mixing with the rumbling thunder. He heard a pair arrive at the window he’d just been at, and he was glad he had taken a crude approach at opening the window.
Drawing near to the back of the town hall, he grimaced at the foul stench that permeated the air. It was perhaps made lighter by the deluge, damp fur and rot only slightly washed away. His stomach roiled and he hated to think what it smelled like on a clear day. Just faintly visible through the rain was a chain-link fence long since rusted. Shivering inside it were three ponies, one of which was notably large while the other two pressed against them.
Bracing himself, Ratchet crossed over. “Basket Fall,” he whispered just loud enough over the rain.
“You,” came a glowering response.
“Yes, me. Who all is here?”
“Dust Sweets and Dingo,” he replied. Their faces were just visible thanks to the blinking red lights. Dust Sweets’ strawberry mane was sticking to her body with mud caked on top. They’d been stripped of all but their pip-bucks. Dingo shivered and tugged her black tail close to her body, blood and refuse splattered across her. “They broke their horns, Ratchet.”
He gulped. “What?”
“You fucking heard me.”
Ratchet took a small step back. “Where’s Firesnap?”
“What, you don’t care about Carrot Delight or Shadow Shy?” Accused Basket Falls. The unicorn mares whimpered and pressed against Basket Falls.
Ratchet sneered. “Of course I do. But I’m worried most of all about Firesnap! Have they taken his horn too?”
“No,” Dingo replied, “he didn’t… resist as we did.”
“He listened to your orders,” added Dust Sweets in a whimper. “Unlike us.”
“Never were very good at that,” muttered Ratchet.
Basket Falls snarled. “Oh? And you’re the good guy here? You sold us out!”
“I meant to sell all of us out, remember? I didn’t think they were going to let me go,” Ratchet replied evenly, keeping his rage in check. “And they didn’t either, two of his zebras hunted me down.”
Dingo blinked between the rain and reached for Ratchet. He pulled back from the rusted chain-link fence. “You killed them?”
“Got ghouls to do it for me.”
She blinked and gave a small nod and smile. She was still in shock from her horn’s removal. Her silver eyes were completely blank, devoid of hope entirely. “Always were smart. We aren’t. They tried to force themselves on us and we panicked. It was instinct really, using magic. Zuberi said if we were going to behave that way we couldn’t be trusted with our horns.”
“I should stab him with what I have left right in the throat,” muttered Dust Sweets. She was a traditionally kind mare, but the wasteland had long since started hardening her.
“I’m sorry,” Ratchet replied.
“Liar,” Basket Fall said. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re only thinking about yourself. You always have been. I knew you were rotten, just didn’t know you were a coward too.”
“I’m here now aren’t I?”
“For yourself.”
Ratchet pressed his horn through the gaps of the fence and a small bit of magic encompassed his horn. The warning was clear. “Where is Firesnap?”
“Zuberi took him to his quarters on the third floor. He was asking us about our pip-bucks and supplies. Carrot Delight and he broke. They’re telling them all about Stable 36 right now to save their own lives.”
“Fuckers,” hissed Ratchet. “Dammit, I’ll-”
“Kill them?” Interrupted Dust Sweets. “We should’ve all died instead of being captured.”
“There was a chance for escape!” Ratchet retorted. “We were surrounded by an unknown number of enemies who could turn invisible! What the fuck else was I supposed to do?”
“Protect the stable,” said Dingo flatly. “You of all ponies should be doing whatever it takes to protect the stable. Your family has for over a century.”
“My wife’s family,” growled Ratchet, “and not for much longer. I wouldn’t wish this fate upon you, but them, I would.”
The trio paled. They were already haggard and wounded and frightened but Ratchet’s words stabbed at their hearts. “You bastard!” Basket Fall surged forward into the fence. His collar beeped and he stumbled back from a jolt. Ratchet sneered, and without another word left them to rot. Their shouts were lost to the rain.
It had proven a challenge to reach Zuberi’s quarters, but with a tremendous amount of patience, Ratchet had been successful. He skulked slowly alongside tattered sheets that acted as curtains, many of them strung up across the room giving it a peculiarly cramped feel. In the center was Zuberi, sitting on a throne of cushions and engulfed in incense. The peculiar smell made Ratchet’s nose tingle but he managed not to sneeze. Laid out on the floor were Firesnap and Carrot Delight, a ring on the unicorn’s horn. Ratchet had seen magic neutralizing rings before, mostly reserved for the brig back home, and he found it a surprise these slavers had them. It made sense, however, as much as he hated it.
Firesnap was unbloodied, confusing Ratchet as to just what was going on. Was the young scout giving freely the information he knew? Ratchet clenched his teeth and crept closer to the center, holding his pistol in his teeth to avoid giving himself away. Carrot Delight was bruised but otherwise unharmed, green eyes wide as she stared at Zuberi. “You can’t,” she whimpered out.
Ratchet froze, wondering if she’d spotted him. “Why not?” Zuberi laughed. “I’ve got all of you at my disposal now. Your leader ought to be captured by now, hunted down by my crew. No one is coming to save you.”
“Ratchet can’t be dead, he just can’t,” Firesnap replied, trembling. “He’s the strongest of us.”
“Would a pony so strong give up his entire team so swiftly?”
“He’s smart! You had us surrounded and outnumbered by Celestia knows how much.”
Zuberi chortled and descended his soft throne, striped hide on full display. He seemed to have more scar tissue than fur. Ratchet squinted at the glyph on his flank, unable to discern its meaning. “I told him he could run, but it was a test. A noble leader would have insisted on staying with you, but instead, he took the chance to run and left you behind. He has forsaken you. So now, I can do whatever I want with you. Starting with taking your pip-buck.”
“Nopony can get a pip-buck off without the proper tools,” replied Firesnap with a shake of his head. Orange hair clung to his horn, weary and exhausted. Even if Ratchet killed Zuberi and made a run for it, the pair wouldn’t make it far in their current condition.
“Then I’ll take your leg.”
“No!” Screamed Carrot Delight, stumbling away as Zuberi reached for her hoof. She kicked out and shouted. Zuberi caught her flailing legs and moved with that terrifying swiftness he had displayed earlier. The frantic noises pitched into agony as something broke.
Before Zuberi could follow up on his attack, the barrel of a pistol pressed into the back of his head. He froze in place without a hint of fear, eyes more amused than anything as he stared at Carrot Delight’s agonized face. “What a pleasant surprise, you survived. Most come back with a collar or in pieces when I send those two after them.”
“You’re not hurting them further,” Ratchet growled.
“Why not? Even if you kill me here and now my crew will overwhelm you. You still don’t know how many of us there are, don’t you?”
“Fifty-seven.”
“…Well done. Now can you fend off that many with an injured team and critically wounded medic?”
“Maybe we’ll just take those fancy stealth suits and sneak our way out?” Suggested Ratchet, transferring his grip of the gun to his magic to free his mouth.
Zuberi turned slightly but Ratchet hissed for him to remain still. Unable to look the unicorn in the eye, Zuberi replied, “Just like your pip-bucks, it requires a special knowledge to use them. You could not simply don them and escape.”
“Then how about I blow your brains out and make a run for it with these two?” Ratchet pressed the pistol harder against the zebra’s skull. Firesnap and Carrot Delight stared in utter horror at the scene before them.
“You’d leave most of your team behind?”
“Something is better than nothing.”
“You are not a pony of honor,” Zuberi proclaimed. “I like that. I could make use of that, and you could make use of me.”
Confusion tugged at Ratchet’s lips but he kept his face stonewalled. “What are you talking about?”
“I let you go for real this time and give you a token that will allow you to pass through my territory unimpeded. We shall become allies.”
“What could I possibly want with slavers?”
“I know you are the husband of your people’s leader. I know you desire power and want to protect your stable. I know you want to lead it. I have an army and stealth suits, you have pip-bucks, and clear skill. If I assist you in becoming your people’s leader, then you will give me a portion of your stock, your supplies, and your caps. You are growing food now, aren’t you? We could always use more of that.”
Ratchet glared at the pair who cowered. They had talked. Carrot Delight couldn’t meet his harsh gaze, holding her broken rear leg with streaming tears. Firesnap met his leader’s rage, shame in yellow eyes. “A protection racket. Not exactly a great deal for me.”
“It is preferable to dying, is it not? If you were willing to live as my slave, this surely seems a better situation.”
The stallion frowned and mulled over his options. “What of my team?”
“I keep them, for now. Prove yourself trustworthy and they will all be returned but the medic. We have need of her skills, and I hear you have many doctors back home.”
“Her husband won’t be pleased,” replied Ratchet slowly.
“That’s your problem. I am offering you a way out that will benefit the both of us. After all, Firesnap here believes you should lead the stable more than your up-and-coming daughter. Surely there are others who think like him. Perhaps you could achieve this plan in due time yourself, but I will hasten that victory tremendously.”
Ratchet didn’t remove the gun but he genuinely considered the offer. It was true that he desired to be the overstallion, and he was willing to do almost anything to achieve it. Firesnap gave a small nod. “How will you help me become the leader? An army arriving to lay siege would be fruitless.”
“We have many methods of attack, pony. Poison from our native plants in Stockade will kill silently, and you will be left in charge. I believe your daughter is too young to lead just yet, correct? The years until she can challenge you would give you plenty of time to lay the groundwork, so long as you’re as skilled as your fellows say.”
“Ratchet, please, you can’t-”
“Shut up,” snarled Ratchet, cutting the pleading mare off. She recoiled with fresh horror. “You can keep Carrot Delight, give me Firesnap.”
“Why not her?”
“She’ll talk.”
Zuberi chuckled thickly. The mare languished on the floor, the young unicorn awash in horror as he sat to the side. Ratchet knew that look well, he could make use of it. “I do believe she would yes. I’ll give Firesnap a token as well then.”
“Poison and safe passage in exchange for a portion of my stable’s population, supplies, and caps? Is that the deal?” Ratchet lowered the gun.
“I trust you could provide those without losing your station,” Zuberi replied, daring to turn around to face Ratchet. His eyes were cold and calculating, the same kind of heartless decision-making Ratchet did. He saw himself in the zebra. “Historically, political rivals and dissidents make great prisoners.”
A smile crossed his face. “I was already thinking the same thing.”
“We are of the same mind then.”
“Then you know exactly what I’ll do if you try to trick me.”
“It is mutually agreeable for us to keep our word.”
“I don’t trust the word of strangers,” reminded Ratchet.
Zuberi offered a hoof. “Neither do I.”
With a lack of hesitance surprising to even himself, Ratchet shook Zuberi’s hoof. “Then we have a deal.”