The hiss of rushing flames broke the woods' silent reverie. With the cracks of breaking boughs and rustling leaves, the tall cypress trees bent away as they were scraped along the keel of a long wooden hull. The cyclic whoosh of spark-powered propellers began to wind down, and the bowsprit of the Phoebe came to a halt, suspended fifty yards above the forested floor.

Peering over the side of the airship, I watched as four massive, power-armored Knights dropped from the main deck, landing with muffled crashes amidst the marshy soil. Eager to join them, I raised my head to feel the gentle breeze flow against my coat and through my mane. Spreading my wings, I hoisted myself onto the railing.

Just above the treetop was an unobstructed view of the surrounding landscape. Rolling hills gathered in the east, while to the west I could just glimpse the faintest view of the ruined port city of Neigh Orleans. The blanket of grey clouds above cast a yellowish haze over the clearing below as the sun crested its zenith.

I dove forwards and felt my feathers catch the air, bringing me into an easy glide. Allowing the Knights a few more moments to secure the landing zone, I soared beneath the Steel Ranger airship to appreciate the striking pre-war craftsmanship. The hull was crafted from oak, sheltered from the apocalypse within an old Manehattan shipyard. At two decks tall, it was appropriately sleek as befitted a schooner. The masts had been cut down to allow a massive rigging-secured envelope to suspend the craft in the air, while two large propellers kept the ship sailing at a slow but steady pace.

The crew were stirring, preparing to disembark. Below, two Knights were standing guard before the overgrown mound. Swooping down to meet them, I landed gently amidst the craters formed from their disembarkment. One of the armored ponies wielded a rocket launcher and rifle on either side, his helmet’s floodlight trained on the veil of moss draped over the mouth of the small hill.

“Is this it?” I asked.

He nodded, turning slightly as I addressed him. “It's where the map pointed to, and Vox has been double-checking our coordinates for the past half hour. I think it’s a pretty safe bet with this being the only clearing for miles.” He took a breath. “Ardent and Meringue are currently checking inside.”

I peeked around his armor. “Stable-Tec sure was good at concealment.”

“Yeah,” the Knight agreed. “Gotta say I’m impressed. Last place anypony’d think to search would be smack-dab in the middle of all this swampland.” The only real giveaway as to the Stable's presence here were heavily overgrown and dilapidated passenger wagon husks parked close to the edge of the clearing.

A burst from the Phoebe's burners caught my attention. The airship had descended to twenty yards as the crew cast lines over the sides. The anchor chain had been converted into a small crane, which was frequently used to transfer supplies to and from the deck and to help power armored Rangers board. It currently lowered a pallet bearing a small generator and some sizable lanterns.

Heavy, mechanical hoof-falls signified the pair exiting the mound. One was massively built, sinking a few inches into the ground with each step he took. His voice matched his size, conveying raw strength even through the tinny speakers of his helmet.

“This is the one, Kyanite.”

The Steel Ranger beside me, Paladin Orange Kyanite, nodded. Switching off his headlamp, he craned his neck to take a headcount as the rest of our expedition assembled. “Okay… everypony here?”

“Everypony important!” an aged, grinning buck responded. His coat was chestnut, the ends greying to match his mane. He wore crimson-colored Scribe robes just like my own, though his were grease-stained into a wine color and covered with dozens of stitched-on pockets bulging with a various assortment of tools. Around his left foreleg was a weathered old PipBuck.

Orange Kyanite shook his head, giving a tired laugh, “Ha-ha, so everyone but Cider Vinegar, right?” I could practically hear him rolling his eyes behind that dark visor.

“Vox, we only brought you along because all your hot air keeps us afloat,” a mature unicorn mare teased behind the old buck. Her coat was a beryl blue, her black mane streaked with iridescence. Her robes were similar, but colored a pale gold with rose accents. Hanging over her back were matching saddlebags, each with trios of pink butterflies embellishing them.

Vox, talkative as ever, couldn’t help but return, “Cid fancies himself such a great pilot, but he’s really just the ballast.” He smirked as he indicated me. “Quilly here’s the pegasus, she oughta be the one behind the wheel!”

I prepared to keep up the playful banter, but Kyanite was keen on getting back on track. “Hey, alright, reign it in. We can poke fun at each other once we’re headed home.” When the murmur quieted, he continued. “We all know how finicky the automap is, so we’ll be sticking together until we can set up in the atrium and get a better idea of how the Stable’s laid out.

“The likelihood of the place still functioning after all these years is low, but if we do encounter any Dwellers, you have full permission to defend yourself should you be threatened. These folks usually don’t take too kindly to anypony invading their home, but we’re the ones with power armor and combat experience.”

The blue unicorn mare spoke up. “If we do meet any, please leave the diplomacy to me.”

Orange Kyanite nodded. “Yes ma’am,” he said, then changed his address to Aurora Tide herself. “That said, if we find any remains, I’ll need you to identify cause of death.” The Steel Ranger Apothecary nodded her response, and Kyanite carried on.

“Initiates, you three will be running the crane and loading any supplies we retrieve. Meringue Pie and Somber Heart will transfer crates in and out once we’ve got a significant haul assembled in the atrium. Vox and Copper, if the primary reactor is offline, we’ll need you two along to unlock any doors blocking our way. And for now, Ardent, I want you guarding the F.O.B.”

That left only myself and Orange Kyanite unassigned. “Quillwright and I will search the Overmare’s office first to dig up anything we can on the place, and then join the rest of you.”

We all answered with a “Yes, sir,” and dispersed, gathering the tools offloaded from the Phoebe and entering the dark mouth of the mound.

The hidden tunnel within gradually descended several feet before evening out onto a hastily-poured concrete floor. The ceiling was braced with thick metal beams and plating, rusted from the marshy soil. At the end was an enormous steel cog, painted with grey and yellow industrial colors and designated with a “56” in its center. The surface of the door was slick with moisture, but it looked remarkably solid after two centuries in the southern climate.

Beside the door was a panel covered in switches, buttons, and a small inlaid screen. I turned the flashlight in my mouth towards it, then panned it across the door, the light fusing with the several beams of my allies.

This was the first Stable I’d ever seen in person, and while I was mildly apprehensive of what awaited us inside, the exciting novelty of the whole situation was dominating my thoughts. Lowering my light to the floor, I withdrew a well-maintained camera from my saddlebags. I captured a quick portrait of the Stable door, a few Rangers at the edges of the shot.

Vox, the bearer of our PipBuck, cantered up to the control panel, blowing years of accumulated dust and debris off the screen. “No power,” he said, looking the electronics over. “It needs a charge.”

Orange Kyanite joined the engineer, presenting a forehoof. Vox pulled a cable from the power armor and jacked it into a port on the side of the panel, which generated a low buzzing sound. After a moment, the screen flickered to life and a tiny red light switched on at the top of the controls. Returning the cable, Vox drew another connector from the PipBuck and linked the bracelet to the door controls, reading the information that flooded both screens.

“Moment of truth,” he mumbled, his eyes darting back and forth. “If this 'master key' doesn't work, those Scribes’ll be polishin’ that courtyard statue ‘til it's shinier than Ardent's ass on inspection day...” That garnered a snort from the aforementioned Knight in front of me and some snickers from the rest of us.

After clicking a button on the PipBuck, there was a short beep from the electronics. A lever in the center of the panel jerked as it unlocked while the red light above turned green. Vox glanced at Orange Kyanite expectantly, receiving a nod. “Hit it.”

“An’ here… we… go…!” The engineer pulled the lever downwards with a gratifying clunk. A yellow warning light above the door spun into brightness, while a warning siren blared through the tunnel. The four Knights with us all lined up with weapons primed as the noise of whirring machinery connected to the Stable door.

There was a shudder as the monolithic cog was pulled back, hitching on accumulated rust. Loose dirt sprinkled down on us from the ceiling as the mechanical arm within strained to haul the colossal weight. Eventually the door came free and slid backwards with an ear-piercing screech, whereupon another arm connected from the side and rolled it out of the way.

The interior was lit only by the revolving warning lights, and the Knights rushed inside, prepared to engage resistance. When none was met, Orange Kyanite called back to us, “Clear!”

I felt a noticeable shift in the air as I stepped over the floor’s grooves. Unlike the warm, stirring winds of the Wasteland, there was little to no circulation within the Stable; the air smelled and tasted stale and heavy, discernibly artificial. Perhaps it was simply due to two-century-old ventilation systems, but I couldn’t fathom living out my entire life in a shelter so devoid of airflow. My wings involuntarily drew in, sufficiently unsettled by the subterranean atmosphere.

The interior entrance was rather confined, a boxy room with another door control panel and what looked to be a monitoring room of some kind to our right. A short ramp led up to another door, this one significantly smaller and less impressive. As the Knights finished scouring every corner, Orange Kyanite checked a switch box for the door.

“It’s powered but locked. Vox?”

As the engineer once again hooked up to bypass the security, he glanced at his commanding officer. “Looks like the backup generator’s still got some juice.”

“Got an automap yet?”

Vox chewed on his lip as he fiddled with the PipBuck. “Bits an’ pieces. The atrium should be the best place for the spell to get a proper scan.”

The door hissed as the hydraulic locks disengaged. Flipping a switch, he swapped places with Orange Kyanite, who filled the frame with his massive steel-plated form. As the door slid open, we tensed up, fearing gunfire, shouting, or both, but were met with silence. The hallway was only wide enough for double-file, lit by fluorescent auxiliary lights at the base of the walls which cast eerie shadows upwards.

“And… Eyes Forward Sparkle online,” Vox announced. He swept the PipBuck in front of him, in the general direction of the Stable’s core. “No hostile readings.”

Kyanite nodded. “I’m not seeing any either, but stay behind me,” he ordered, and took a step inside. We followed closely, passing some kind of sensors built into the walls. Our other engineer, Copper, theorized that the high-tech arches were designed to detect radiation. If they were still powered, we’d surely have set off alarms all throughout the Stable.

Halfway down the hall, Vox raised a hoof to halt our advance. “Turrets.” He pointed his hoof at the ceiling, indicating four indentations lit by faint green lights. “They ain’t marked as hostile, but Ah figured Ah’d point ‘em out.”

Aiming his rifle, Orange Kyanite called back to us, “I’m gonna try to dispatch them now.” He squeezed off a shot, which ricocheted off the recessed turret and struck the far wall, embedding into the metal. We unarmored ponies covered our ears as the hall rang with the report.

“Don’t think we can destroy ‘em, Ky, not without pryin’ the whole ceiling apart,” Ardent spoke up.

“What business do turrets have doing here?” I wondered. Based on my studies, it wasn’t common for Stables to rely on automated defences, instead leaving that duty to security teams.

Glancing at the rad-detecting arches behind us, Kyanite guessed, “To keep outsiders like us out?”

“Then why aren’t they firing on us?”

“Maybe their power’s out.”

Vox frowned. “They sure look active to me,” he cut in. “But they just ain't registerin’ us for some reason.”

Kyanite’s voice made it clear that he was unsettled. “That’s… odd. Keep your eyes peeled for any others, and watch your backs.”

We made it through the next door without an issue and found ourselves at the top of a tall atrium. Over a railing we could see three sub-levels beneath us, shrouded in darkness. The only lights were from ourselves and dimly lit signs over entrances below us marking a cafeteria, living quarters, clinic, and a production floor. I found myself leaning over the edge, trying to judge just how deep the Stable was.

“Automap’s complete,” Vox announced as the amber glow of his PipBuck lit his narrowing, confused eyes. “The hay…?”

Orange Kyanite tilted his head. “What’s going on?”

Our chief engineer looked baffled as he shook his head. “The scan managed to grab the entire layout except for the bottom floor.”

We gathered around and strained to get a view of the small screen. Sure enough, the fourth sub-level reading appeared corrupted; only a few broken traces of walls and floors indicated that there was anything at all below the third.

Our Paladin was equally perplexed. “We'll work our way down there eventually.” He rose to look back towards the atrium. “You got the location of the Overmare's office yet?”

“Yep. Top floor, directly across from us.”

I traded my flashlight for a lantern as our group split up. The rest of the expedition went left and took a stairwell down to the next level, while I led Kyanite and Vox through an unlocked door to our right into a hallway encircling the top of the atrium. The rooms lining it consisted of living quarters and a security room which lacked any weapons, armor, or ammunition. If the Dwellers hadn’t taken everything with them when they left, someone must have looted this place top to bottom; Kyanite was already growing concerned about how empty the levels beneath might be.

After Vox coaxed the door to the Overmare’s office open, he cantered in with a smug look on his face, proud of his deftness with the PipBuck. We followed him in and I set the lantern down in the middle of the room, taking in our surroundings.

The Overmare’s office was surprisingly cozy, with a fuzzy rug in the center beneath a circular wood grain desk holding a terminal and various old papers. A cushy-looking chair was pushed in behind the desk, beckoning me to sit in it. Along the walls were maneframes which were dark but undoubtedly held decades if not centuries of information on the Stable’s history. A door in the corner most likely led to the Overmare’s living quarters.

Clearing his throat, Kyanite addressed the engineer who was already pulling out the Overmare’s chair, ready to crack open the terminal. “Hey, Vox, could you go check in on the others? I think we’ve got it from here.”

Vox’s eyes darted between us, and then his brows raised, followed by his nodding head. “Right.” He left us without another word, occupied with the PipBuck.

Once we were alone, Orange Kyanite clicked a small release switch at the base of his armored neck as he shut the door behind him. With a sigh, the seals disengaged and his helmet was lifted away to reveal a rather handsome earth stallion. His quick and bright coral orange eyes blinked as they adjusted to the darkness, and his hoof flew to his tangerine muzzle, scratching furiously. "Okay, you would not believe how itchy my face has been today," he groaned.

I snorted. “I can’t imagine that’s the only place that's uncomfortable.”

The Ranger’s steel-encased hoof darted around behind his head, digging into his cobalt mane. He wiggled his eyebrows playfully as his mouth tightened into a half-smile, half-grimace. “Ugh… you know when you get that little itchy spot in your back you can never seem to reach?” When I nodded in response, he shifted into a full grimace. “It’s like that all the time. All over.”

“You had so many chances to take our path instead...” I offered, swishing my Scribe garments around me. “We didn’t get the short end of the fashion stick.”

“Yeah, well, some of your friends also ended up with that stick up their arse,” Kyanite teased as he imitated my accent. “I’ll get by.”

I stuck out my tongue. “I can hear the jealousy in your voice, you know.”

“Uh-huh…” With a cheeky smirk, my partner watched as I trotted around the desk and plopped onto what had to be the comfiest chair my flanks had ever had the pleasure of resting in. “Speaking of which, how’d my…” His voice deepened dramatically. “...Paladin Voice sound?”

My hoof covered my mouth in mock surprise. “Oh, you're only a Paladin? You sounded like an Elder!”

Following my path to watch over my shoulder, Orange Kyanite gave an amused whinny. “Oh Goddesses, I’m not as monotonous as Sabre, am I?”

“Not even close, darling.”

I eagerly pressed one of the terminal’s keys, waking the screen. When the computer asked for a password, I used the infamous exploit in Stable-Tec programming I’d been taught to instead open up a BIOS screen filled with lines of jumbled code.

Putting to use the teachings Scribes like Vox had instilled in me, I chipped away at the terminal’s security for several minutes. Technologically-minded Rangers like him were often referred to as engineers, as opposed to the literature-focused like myself. They were the ones who had perfected the art of hacking and reprogramming, but I’d taken it upon myself to master all aspects of Scribe capabilities, which included this admittedly frustrating exercise of trial and error.

After rebooting for the sixth time, Kyanite cleared his throat. “...You wanna leave it? We can come back later,” he suggested.

“I’ve got this,” I reassured him, determined. My hooves tapped away at the wide keys, parsing through dozens of terms and brackets. This time, I finally deduced the password required for entry: “Nexus.” The terminal beeped twice and delivered me to the Overmare’s directory.

Orange Kyanite patted me as lightly as he could in his power armor. “Well done, babe!”

I smiled as I navigated the terminal’s contents, searching for useful information on Stable 56’s history. Finding a collection of weekly reports, I selected the first entry and the file began playback. The computer’s speakers were very feeble and emitted from its rear, so we had to lean in close to listen to the audio.

“This is Sprocket, Overmare and Head Supervisor of Stable 56. This is the first weekly log for Stable-Tec’s records.” There was a pause and a faint breath. “The door sealed two days ago. We’ve settled in well, all things considered. No complaints after work assignments, no tech failures, no… nopony on the outside asking to be let in.

“The, uh… higher-ups told me we’d be in it for the long haul, and I believe them, but…” She sighed and paused again. “Two-hundred and twenty-nine. Two-hundred and twenty-nine lives in my hooves, and… who knows how many left behind. I think we’re still in shock that it actually happened; one minute you’re welcoming your husband home from work, the next Stable-Tec’s at your door, telling you that Las Pegasus and Canterlot have been hit by megaspells, that there are missiles bound for Ponyma City and Neigh Orleans next…” She trailed off.

“Then you’re loaded onto a skybus with your neighbors and the whole town gets evacuated. When the rush and the noise all come to an end, we’re underground with no clue if anypony else even survived. For all we know, we could be the last ones left... oh, please let the Princesses be safe…”

I bit my lip. It always felt surreal to hear the voices of those who had lived in the days before the war, who had walked with Ministry Mares and Goddesses alike in a world free from radiation, monsters, or psychopaths. Well, free of radiation at least.

“Anyway, production’s starting up tomorrow; I can only pray that somepony in Canterlot gets these supplies and puts them to use healing our nation.” The last pause lasted long enough that I almost believed the recording had ended. I reached for a key to close the log when Sprocket’s voice sounded one last time. “Things will go back to the way they were someday… they have to.” Her tone carried an utterly hollow optimism that couldn’t be masked in the slightest.

The terminal clicked and the recording ended. Sitting back in my chair, I chewed my lip as we ruminated on the mare’s words. Even Kyanite, usually able to lighten the mood of any situation, seemed pensive at the futility of the Overmare’s wishes. Navigating to the final entry in the extensive list, I selected it and listened as a new voice filled the quiet room.

“This is Overmare Cast Die, still broadcasting a distress signal to Stable-Tec for nearly two weeks without any response. As Overmare Sprocket detailed in log zero-zero-zero-two, the teleportation chamber malfunctioned the first day of production and thus hasn’t been able to export any of our products.”

Orange Kyanite looked at me. “Guess that explains why they placed a factory so far from Canterlot.”

“The Stable’s storerooms weren’t built for this much overflow, and we haven’t got room to continue manufacturing,” Cast Die continued. “We held a vote last week and came to a consensus: we’re opening the door.

“Stable-Tec told us the surface could be uninhabitable for decades if their projections were accurate, and we figure that a century is long enough for everything to have cleared up. A lot of ponies are getting cabin fever, myself included; two generations have been born without ever seeing the sun, and we need it. We need the sky, we need to know who else made it. I don’t care if the suits slap me with a fine for opening the Stable too early.

“If anypony from Stable-Tec is hearing this, know that everything’s still in working condition. We’ll be taking all the supplies we can carry just in case, but whatever’s left is yours. If you aren’t with them, well… finders keepers, right?”

The log ended along with the recorded history of Stable 56. I leaned back in the chair and lightly kicked the desk, spinning myself around to face Kyanite. He had an impressed look.

“So this place didn’t end up as a tomb like the others, huh?”

“It sounds like they were as successful as you could hope for after the war.”

Kyanite chewed absentmindedly on his bottom lip. “She said this place is still fully functional…” His eyes focused on me, lighting up in realization. “Quill, this Stable… this could be the answer to our prayers!”

Hope surged into my chest. Medical supplies were a true rarity in post-apocalyptic Equestria, and to discover facilities capable of producing new supplies was akin to the Goddesses themselves descending from the heavens to bless us with their life-giving presence. I felt myself launch out of the chair and wrap my hooves around Orange Kyanite. “Oh, Kyan, we’ve done it!”

He laughed with me, though as I loosened my grasp and leaned back, he tilted his head. “Done what?”

I raised my brows expectantly, waiting for Kyanite to catch on. When he only continued to blink, I answered, “Star Paladin? Head Scribe? I-I mean this kind of discovery is… is... ” I stammered, a flurry of thoughts rushing through my mind. “Unprecedented!”

“Heh, I mean, sure, but…” Kyanite didn’t share the same level of elation. “Weren’t there a few dozen other Scribes who had a hoof in this too?”

“Well…” I deflated a little. “There were…”

Kyanite brushed my mane aside. “Quill, we’ll get there someday. Trust me.” He gave me that warm smile I loved, the most noticeable of his many enamoring traits. “But I think you need… no, deserve a few more field assignments first.”

With a sigh and giggle, I admitted, “You’re probably right. I’ve been needing a fresh haul of books, anyway.”

We nuzzled for a moment until my partner lightly nipped my ear and cavorted away before I could get him back. “Neeerd!” Orange Kyanite called as he rushed for his helmet.

My wings spread and then I shot into the air, racing directly at him. Kyanite hoofed his helmet and suited up just as I reached him, intent on poking his snout in retaliation. His armor whirred as he turned to me, now impenetrable to my jabs. “Too slow, spitfire.”

I rose in the air to glare at him through his dark, reflective visor. “Surely you realize this means war?” I growled playfully.

The Paladin met my challenge. “Of course… and I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

We joined the rest of the expedition in the center of the atrium, where they had assembled a Forward Operating Base. A spark generator powered numerous floodlights that illuminated the tall room, as well as a terminal we’d hauled down to help inventory all of our spoils. As soon as we entered the glow of the F.O.B., Orange Kyanite had resumed his commanding demeanor.

"Alright, Vox, where're we at?"

The unicorn Scribe shook his head. "Still no luck. Ah swear, Ah ain't e'er seen this kinda interference before… or at least, not since we tried gettin’ into that M.A.S. hub up in Manehattan..." he furrowed his brow, looking up and past us in thought. "Were you with us for that?" he directed at Kyanite.

"I don't believe I was."

“Hm.” Vox returned his attention to the PipBuck. “Well, Ah can’t rightly know what’s on the fourth sub-level, not without goin’ down there myself.”

“Should we get on with the mission, sir?” Meringue Pie asked impatiently. She and Somber Heart seemed eager to start exploring the production floor through the door across from us.

Kyanite shook his head. “Not until we know every inch of this place is safe. I don't like the idea of potential danger just below our hooves.”

“So what’s the gameplan?” Ardent spoke up.

After a few moments of deliberation, Orange Kyanite turned to face most of the expedition. “Meringue, Somber, and Copper, you three sit tight. The rest of us’ll give the fourth floor a once-over and be back as soon as we can.”

After taking the door labelled “Reactor” on the atrium’s bottom floor, the five of us followed a short series of hallways that very gradually sloped downwards. Two right turns later, we’d circled around and had arrived at a new door. It was still in the industrial colors Stable-Tec had a fetish for and lacked any frills, but was a bit larger than normal and with a more secure locking system around the edges. As always, Vox went at the terminal while we chatted.

“I still can’t believe ponies chose to live in these places,” Aurora Tide remarked, studying a poster hanging from the wall. It featured a very familiar pink earth mare pointing at the reader, a playful grin on her lips but an unsettling intensity radiating from stern blue eyes. Bold pink text below demanded, “I want YOU to smile!”

Shrugging, I commented, “It was either dying from old age in here or getting flash-fried by the megaspells. Might not be that bad with some reading material.”

“Coulda done without the pervasive Pinkie posters everywhere,” Vox grunted. “Those eyes creep me out…” He clicked a button on the PipBuck’s interface and the door slid open, revealing a large, dimly lit reactor chamber.

In the center was the first of the great engines that powered the entire Stable, cold and dusty from years of disuse. There was still a very low hum that could be heard and felt beneath our hooves, however. Small blue lights dotted the ceiling in neat, sporadic rows, and a nearby vent dripped with condensation. The air was cooler down here than it had been in the atrium.

Vox nodded approvingly at the reactor. “These generators would be worth takin’ with us if we could fit ‘em on the Phoebe. You could power a whole city with a few of ‘em!”

“I’d settle for the auxiliary, if we could find it,” Kyanite reminded. “Is the automap working any better?”

“Nope. I’ll hafta bring the PipBuck around the whole perimeter to get it all recorded.”

“Of course…” Kyanite groaned. “... I know this seems like a waste of time, but-”

“It’s fine,” the four of us around him responded, varying slightly in our tones. While I’d tried to convey him some reassurance, Aurora was amused, Vox was dismissive and Ardent complained in exaggerated exasperation.

Our Paladin chuckled, shaking his head. “Thanks. Let’s get this over with.”

Vox proceeded to wander across the room, his PipBuck building a more detailed layout of the area as he went. Without much to do, I found myself examining the safety diagrams attached to the sides of the reactor. Extreme caution was advised when using magic around this amount of electric power; if not properly grounded, lightning could arc through telekinetic fields and fry the unicorn. There was a small maintenance door in the bottom of the reactor; repair ponies must have had to crawl inside to work. I didn’t envy their job.

Two passageways were connected to the side of the room, and as Vox continued through a bulkhead to the next reactor room, I took the detour and now found myself in a hall filled with pipes. Following the Stable’s plumbing, I paused when I reached an indentation to the side. Beyond a thick hatch was a chamber that glowed dimly with a pulsing blue light.

Beside an inactive terminal was a metal frame braced at every corner of the wall, leading down to a glowing crystal secured in the center. It shone with a weak but steady light, humming lowly.

I heard Kyanite’s clomping armored hooves before he had a chance to sneak up on me. Ducking through the threshold, he glanced around the small room. “What’d you find?”

“Is this a…” I pointed out the crystal. “A water talisman?”

Orange Kyanite leaned in, trying to examine the contraption. “Not like any I’ve ever seen.” Straightening, he told me, “Gonna call Aurora,” before his hoof clicked a button on the side of his helmet. He called our Apothecary’s name, his voice now amplified. Thanks to his warning, I’d had a chance to cover my ears from the booming call.

Once Aurora Tide joined us, she was shown the crystal, which she recognized fairly quickly. “That’s no talisman; it’s a water ward.”

“A ‘ward’?” I asked, inquisitive.

“It repels water,” Aurora said matter-of-factly. “They must be using these to keep the foundation dry from all this damp swamp soil. You know the Hoofer Dam, out west?” Kyanite and I nodded. “That was the first time wards like these were used in large-scale architecture.”

I tilted my head. “You seem… oddly versed on this topic.”

Aurora winked. “Remember, Quillwright, I was a Scribe before I was an Apothecary.”

“Wait, so…” Kyanite interjected. “You said these’re keeping the foundation intact?” Aurora confirmed with a nod. “So there must be more lining the entire base.”

I followed his line of thinking. “And surely somepony will pay good caps for a collection of functional wards…?”

Kyanite was surely grinning when he answered, “Eeyup.”

Aurora Tide rolled her eyes but agreed to help extract the ward from its frame. I returned to the reactor room to search the next series of hallways for the same rooms. As I entered the next chamber, I found Vox to be peeking halfway inside the generator, Ardent nearby. Only the unicorn engineer’s legs were visible, and I heard some bangs and clanks from within the reactor’s metal shell. He laughed.

“Hah, you were right; it does have one!” Vox yelled to Ardent.

“Busy mapping, I see?” I grinned as I trotted past.

Ardent gestured towards the reactor. “Yeah, we just thought to check it for a-”

WHAM!

The large bulkhead between the rooms suddenly fell shut, locking into place with a series of solid thumps. Ardent whirled around in surprise, shouting at Vox in irritation. “Luna… you scared the shit outta me, Vox!”

The engineer extricated himself from the machinery, sliding out and holding up his disconnected PipBuck, wearing a confused look. “That wasn’t me.”

There was a sinking feeling in my gut as I halted. The three of us galloped to the door, and Ardent banged his hoof against the solid bulkhead while calling for Orange Kyanite. Our Paladin arrived swiftly, shouting to us from the other side.

“Vox! What happened?”

“Ah dunno! Door just shut on its own…”

Ardent backed up slightly, looking all around the sizable bulkhead. “You reckon I could shoot this thing apart?” The grenade launcher on his armor was certainly capable of dealing a tremendous amount of damage.

Vox waved him off. “Forget it. This metal’s sturdy stuff; it’d take a dozen Knights to even start warpin’ it. Best bet is lettin’ me hack it open.” He reached for the switchbox, but paused as we heard Kyanite call out again.

“We… oh, Luna, we have contact!”

There was a sudden burst of automatic gunfire on the other side of the door; even dampened by the solid bulwark, it felt deafening in the otherwise silent Stable. My hooves connected with the metal. “Kyanite?!”

A small explosion and someone’s scream caused me to flinch, and then we heard our leader’s voice. “A-aurora! Everypony get back to the Phoebe, now!”

Ardent spoke up. “I’m getting seven… eight… at least eight hostile readings on my E.F.S.”

“Me too,” Vox confirmed, checking his PipBuck, which he still hadn’t linked to the bulkhead. Panicking, I flew to him.

“What are you waiting for? Get the door open!” I wailed.

“Ah know, Quill!” He jacked the connector cable into the box and looked back at Ardent, who was pacing back and forth. “We don’t know what they’re dealin’ with, though. We need to be ready to face whatever…” The color drained from his face as his eyes flicked to the ceiling. “Oh, hell…!”

Confused, I followed his gaze to see that the blue lights overhead had turned red, attached to several sentry turrets that descended from above. They all rotated to focus on Vox, who screamed something at Ardent just as the defense systems opened fire. Two bullets tore through Vox’s leg before our Knight managed to put himself in the way, the rounds bouncing off of his power armor. I scurried behind him, shaking with fear and adrenaline.

Ardent couldn’t turn to fire back without significantly reducing our cover, so I opened my saddlebags to retrieve my standard issue pistol. I didn’t use it all that much, as Knights always took care of the combat duties while outside of the Citadel. I had decent training and average experience, usually enough for a Scribe.

Unfortunately, being a Scribe also meant that I tended to hoard materials, and my saddlebags were absolutely packed with papers, books, magazines, writing utensils, and other supplies useful for my occupation. Items such as weapons found themselves buried somewhere near the bottom, and the pistol proved elusive.

The repeating clangor of turret fire deflecting from Ardent’s steel-plated form was ear-piercing, and he grunted under the torrent. All this concentrated fire could prove dangerous if he was exposed to the assault for too long.

Vox had almost fallen over after his wound, but the hardy old engineer was still connected to the door, waiting for his PipBuck to complete the link. All of a sudden, he froze. “The… the door’s power just cut out!”

At the same time, Ardent exclaimed, “Fuck! My gun!” as I saw his armor’s battle saddle jolt. The Knight shifted slightly, clearly trying to check the weapon that had just been damaged by the turrets. His back- our cover- had changed angle. I realized this just as Vox held the PipBuck towards me, his free hoof trying to unclip the device. “Quill, Ah need you to-”

With a wet zip, a bullet pierced the side of the unicorn’s head. Blood sprayed across my face and the wall, against which Vox was forcefully slammed into. His body slid down and painted a crimson stain down the cold grey metal as a prompt beeped on the PipBuck’s screen.

Just like that, Vox was dead.

“No, no! Vox!” Ardent bellowed. Blinded by sudden fury, he continued rotating, and I yelped as I hugged my saddlebags and threw myself against his legs, trying to avoid being shot by the relentless automated defenses. The Knight realized his mistake and crouched over me. “Goddesses… we’ve gotta move, now!”

Still shaking in shock from my longtime ally’s sudden and brutal passing, I peeked around Ardent’s massive bulk, spying the side passage. “That way!” I pointed.

Ardent checked and then psyched himself up. “Okay. Okay, I’ll cover you. Move with me and we can make it there in one piece!”

For a moment I looked to Vox’s body, hoping I could somehow carry him with us.

“Go!”

There wasn’t time. Carefully, we moved in step, the bullets still peppering Ardent’s steel form. Just as we were a yard away from the threshold, the turrets halted, hissing from the heat and clicking as they presumably reloaded their massive reservoir of ammunition. The pair of us took advantage of this brief opening to escape into the hall, out of range.

“Ky…” Knight Ardent grunted as he observed the damage. “Kyanite ordered us to get out, didn’t he?”

“He did.” I gaped in awe at the power armor’s condition. His left side was dented with hundreds of little pockmarks and the shotgun attached to his battle saddle had been shredded into pieces, hanging askew above the bullet marks. If Ardent had been shot for much longer...

“We need a way out,” Ardent said, adjusting his battle saddle. “Preferably one not guarded by sentry turrets.”

Even if I’d managed to grab the PipBuck, the hallways beyond and their destinations were mysteries. I didn’t expect to find much more than additional reactors and wards, but perhaps the path forward would eventually lead back into the Stable’s upper levels. We passed another ward room as I finally found my pistol hidden behind a clipboard in my saddlebags and took it in my mouth, but collecting the blue crystal was the last thing on my mind right now.

Skirting the sweating wall beneath crusty piping, the passage deposited us into a wider chamber, this time with two more halls sprouting from both ends and another large bulkhead in front of us. This one was already shut, however, accompanied by an inset terminal rather than a simple switch box.

Stranger still was how all the original ceiling lights in this area were still active, compared to only the auxiliary lights everywhere else in the Stable. I was about to bring this up to Ardent when I heard him park his armored rump in the middle of the room, reaching around to pull off the mangled remnants of his shotgun.

“I’ll get started on repairs,” he informed me. He then began stomping the fragmented weapon scrap into flatter pieces, ready to be fed into his suit’s converter.

I took a shaky breath. “Okay.” There weren’t any colored lights along the ceiling, so it seemed we were past the turrets. I turned to face the right doorway, intent on peeking through it to see what direction it led in.

Out of the darkness beyond the threshold stepped the figure of a unicorn, aiming an advanced laser rifle at me in a rosy field of telekinetic magic. The pony was clad in matte black body armor, and the helmet that covered his face also encased his horn and glowed with dim green lenses. The stranger spoke in a low, commanding tone.

“Drop your weapon.”

Frozen in surprise and fear, I blinked. I didn’t recognize the design of the formidable-looking armor or the small circular emblem on the side of the helmet.

“Drop it, now.”

I didn’t know what to do. Had Ardent heard the orders? Would this stranger just shoot me once I disarmed? To that end, why hadn’t he just shot me already? The Steel Ranger regulations on engagement usually leaned towards “shoot first, find out who you pissed off later.” If this unicorn was at all connected to the automated defenses that had already killed one of us, then I had to assume he had lethal intent.

My wings spread wide and gave one great flap to my left, dodging me sideways. The armored unicorn fired his rifle and a blue laser whizzed past my face close enough to singe the fur. Turning, I fled backwards while shouting, “Ardent!”

Ardent halted his repairs immediately. With the skill of a lifelong Steel Ranger Knight, he spun on his hooves, found his target, and fired off an accurate shot from his grenade launcher in one swift motion. The projectile struck the stranger and exploded in a brief, smoky burst of intense heat and shrapnel.

Landing next to Ardent, I panted with adrenaline, difficult to do with the weapon still held in my mouth. “Who… who wash’at?”

“Whoever it was, they’re nothin’ but a smear on the floor now.”

Lowering my head, I tried to still my quaking hooves. As the smoke began to clear, my eyes flicked up to see a faint rosy shimmer in the dissipating haze. The unicorn had conjured a magical shield, dropping his rifle; he now directed his horn at us as it began to crackle with energy.

Thinking quickly, Ardent shoved me aside, his strength sending me careening away and out of the range of the powerful beam that struck him. The magic damping talisman built into the power armor managed to absorb most of the spell, though the kinetic energy still sent the Knight sliding back several yards.

Struggling to stand, I watched as the unicorn charged out of the smoke towards Ardent. The Knight fired again, his grenade swatted aside by magic. The attacker was actually planning to engage a power-armored Steel Ranger at close range? He was at least wise enough to know that his rifle would be ineffective against the thick, reflective plates encasing Ardent.

Ardent kicked at his opponent, who swiftly dodged under and around while delivering strikes of his own. While his hooves couldn't even put a dent in the power armor, it was only a matter of time before he struck a servo or found some other exploit.

I raised my pistol and aimed, knowing my nigh-invincible ally could survive an errant nine-mil round should I miss. As the stranger slid around behind Ardent and into my iron sights, I bit down on the trigger.

Click.

Uninterrupted, our assailant drove his armored horn at Ardent's turret-softened side. The tip connected with the metal and punctured it with a resounding pop, as if driving a massive rivet. Ardent howled as he was shoved backwards, skewered on the end of the attacker's horn.

Luna damn it! I screamed internally, cursing myself for my negligence. Grabbing my saddlebags, I dumped their entire contents out onto the floor and frantically sorted through to find a loaded magazine. Papers, pencils, scrolls, random clutter, and tools were strewn about until at last I located one. Loading it into the pistol, I once again spun to face the battle only to find Ardent gasping as he wheeled about, searching for his target. The mysterious unicorn had vanished from sight.

“Where ish he?” I called out, words hampered by the gun in my mouth.

“He just… dodged behind and… disappeared…” I could hear the clicks and hisses of Ardent’s medical systems frantically working to heal his wound. We backed up towards each other, both twitching in anticipation. If our attacker was employing teleportation, he could come from anywhere at any time…

Sure enough, with a burst the unicorn appeared next to Ardent, kicking his hooves at the Knight’s flanks where the healing potions and combat drugs were housed. He managed to catch Ardent off-guard for a moment, but not long enough to deal permanent damage. My ally brought his full weight around and charged, knocking the unicorn to the ground. Rearing up, Ardent brought his hooves down but was caught inches from caving in the stranger’s skull by a conjured shield.

Machine and magic fought against each other, the whining of pneumatics and servos shoving against the sparking, glassy barrier that separated the two. Just as a large crack shot across the shield, I spied the unicorn’s rear legs pull in for a kick at Ardent’s underside, where the damping talisman was connected to his barrel. Realizing what his plan was, I aimed my pistol, firing twice.

The first shot went a bit wide and skidded off the floor, while the second struck the unicorn in the side. His body armor easily absorbed the nine-millimeter round, but he flinched and the shield dimmed in power. Before I could continue firing, however, the attacker’s hooves shot forward and caught the panel where the talisman was connected. There was a brief burst of sparking metal and then the stranger rolled away just as his shield finally caved in under Ardent’s bulk.

As the Knight pounded the floor with the force of a small bomb, the unicorn was up and aiming his laser rifle, which had skidded across the ground to him, retrieved with telekinesis. I lifted into the air to fire over Ardent, but a precise shot sliced through several feathers of my right wing. As sudden pain shot through my outstretched limb, I fell from the air and crashed to the floor, pistol knocked from my grasp.

Ardent fired a volley of grenades, each caught in the telekinetic net that rose to protect our attacker. As the floating explosives began to coalesce, Ardent and I both realized we were easy targets. I tried to stand and spread my wings but my back muscles had tensed up in pain, unsteady hooves slipping on the metal floor.

“Quill, get down!” Ardent boomed, placing his steel-plated body in between the stranger and myself.

The unicorn lowered his head and the grenades shot towards us at high velocity.

My wings swept up to shield against the blast and I braced myself.

The explosion that engulfed Ardent was beyond deafening, sending deadly shards of shrapnel whizzing every which way. The shockwave violently lifted me in its invisible aura and flung my limp form backwards like a ragdoll. My head struck the wall and every sense I once had suddenly and thoroughly ceased.

Author's Notes:

I cannot properly convey how grateful I am of everyone who has played a part in helping this story grow from a single idea into what it is today. A million thanks to u/Arloste, my first editor; RuinQueenofOblivion and WanderingZebra, some of the first people to give me feedback; XenoPony, SiriusShenanigans, Latrios, Chaotic Dreams, Crono411, and Chayn for helping pre-read, edit, and inspire; Crescent and mcm653 for moral support, and to everyone who keeps up with the story.

Every single one of you have helped to build this story, whether you realize it or not.

Thank you for reading! Ratings, comments, and critiques are incredibly appreciated.