Legends of the Zone

by kalash93

Legends of the Zone

Legends Of The Zone

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Three figures are sitting around a campfire, glowing bight orange-red-yellow, under an open sky. The night is cold, but the fire provides warmth to their out stretched limbs. This is another night in The Zone. They are cold. They are hungry. Their eyes pass between each other. There is some soup in the fire -- enough for one, but for three… There are no stars in the sky. Not even Luna’s moon shines on them from above with its silvery white light. It is absolutely black.

The three of them come from different lands and backgrounds. They all have their own reason for coming to The Zone, their own reason to be there. One from Equestria. One from Zebricy. One from a restless tribe. A spy. A scientist. A soldier.

One of them sitting around the fire has a Bizon submachine gun resting in the grass by her knee while she strums on a guitar, singing some song. She wears a suit of digitial Flora camouflage. She looks bored, stifled tense almost. Fingers strike strings and music flows, but no one is at all moved. “Erbse, steck es weg,” says one, an oribi doe clad in a suit of shadow camo. Silence falls. “Anyone have beer?”

“Nein, Shai,” answers Erbse, placing her guitar on the ground. “What? You got some?”

Shai shakes her head and replies, “Nah. We’re totally out of booze; not even a flask of that chacha moonshine stuff.” She stretches and yawns, “Well, morning isn’t for another ten hours, so unless someone has something to say, it’s about time for the first watch.”

Erbse gets a peculiar glint in her eye. She looks at the third of their company, an old female donkey. The old jenny is sitting quietly with her primordial, scarred, AKM disassembled across her lap. Her lips precariously hold a perched cigarette way overdue for a drag. She has on some old Strichtarn camo, an M52 Stahlhelm, and a 6B5 armored vest. “Is there anything you wish to say, Raki?”

Raki takes a huge drag, extinguishes her cigarette, and answeres, “It’s not too late; would you mind hearing an old jenny’s stories?”

“Ja, bitte,” says Erbse.

“Thank you very much, chief,” says Shai.

“Hueh,” laughs Raki. “Here’s an old story. It’s about the days when I was young rookie Stalker in the woods of The Zone. I was working with a wolf named Cho Zhe Zhui Hui, Not a bad fellow, just a little short-tempered.” She couldn’t help but snicker as she said the name, “Onun şanssız ismi katlandi.”

Shai asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” said Raki. It’s just an unfortunate name to have.” She paused. “Griffons think that low Wolf sounds funny. It was doubly true for him, because I later found out that Cho Zhe Zhui Hui sounds an awful lot like telling someone to fuck off and suck a dick. Imagine what it would be like if your name meant something obscene.”

“That would suck…” Erbse says. “Did you have any adventures together?”

“Of course. Did I ever tell you about the time I found an abandoned train station?”

Shai and Erbse say together, “No.”

“Okay. Cho and I were a couple of greenhorns. We didn’t have a map back then, so we had to make due with other means of finding our way. Our best landmarks were the railroad tracks, because when you walk along them, you’ll find civilization eventually. That’s really important, because it’s really easy to get lost in The Zone. Being able to easily figure the way back home is something you always need to be able to do, especially when you’re in new places. It’s especially true in places like The Zone, where sometimes, it’s like the world’s going out of its way to kill you.”

“So one day, we went further than we ever had before. We kept following the tracks until we found this abandoned train station. In a basement, we hit the jackpot. Money, weapons, ammo, artifacts, rations, kit. We were real excited about that – in only about four weeks, we’d found more than a lot of guys don’t in a year.”

“Really, we should’ve been wary; you don’t just find stuff lying around in The Zone. If something is out in the open, there’s a good reason why nobody’s clamed it. It didn’t take us long to find out why. We’d, unknowingly, gone through some bandits’ loot, and they wanted revenge.”

“What did you do?” Shai asks. She and Erbse are engrossed, leaning forwards.

“We got the heck outta there, trading shots the whole time.”

Erbse asks, “Did you shoot anyone?”

Raki answers, “I don’t know.”

Shai asks, “And what happened to the treasure?”

“Oh, that? The army ended up capturing the station. Naturally, nobody goes there.”

“Shame,” says Shai. She passes an eye over the pot over the fire. The liquid soup therein is in a rumbling, low boil. She meets Erbse’s eyes and says, “It’s looking pretty close to done, Erbse.” The Zebra takes a sniff.

“What do you think?”

“Could use a few more minutes. Starting to smell good.”

“Starting to smell like a fruit punch anomaly.”

“No it doesn’t,” snaps Erbse, checking on her cooking. “I’ve been close to those things; I know what they smell like.”

“So have I,” says Shai. “It smells like one that’s just gone off. You ever had one go off on you?” Both Erbse and Raki shook their heads. “You wanna hear about the time I woke up in an anomaly field?”

“You mean like last payday, only without the beds,” Raki teases.

Shai scratches her head. “Oh no, I wasn’t drunk when this happened.”

Erbse reaches across and claps her on the thigh. “You really ought to cut lose more often,” she whispers. “Raki and I really had fun with you last time.”

“Genug,” chides Raki. She settles back down into a more serious demeanor before turning to Shai. “Why don’t you tell us your story while we wait for supper to finish cooking?”

“Yeah,” affirms Erbse, looking expectantly at the oribi.

Shai yawns and stretches as she begins, “Well, this was a few weeks before I met you no good bunch of troublemakers. I was in this area I thought I knew right after a blowout. It’s raining, so I wait in this tunnel. There’s this light at the end with a little red spark. Curious, I look closer, and I see this little thing shining, and I think it’s an artifact, so I go to collect it. I’m just about to get to it when it suddenly shimmers and opens up in a flash.”

“And you didn’t throw a bolt?”

Shai stops, ruffles her jacket, and responds, “My detector wasn’t going off. I thought everything was fine. I’d never seen an anomaly like that.”

“What happened next?”

“I couldn’t see anything; I thought it was over,” continues Shai. “I must’ve passed out, because the sun was in a different place when I got my sight back. I count myself lucky; I’m still alive and I don’t question it; The Zone doesn’t take kindly to probing too hard.” The others nod. “So I turned around and saw myself surrounded by anomalies.”

“I throw bolts at them, and they reacted. So I looked around very carefully, trying to figure out what the hell to do. I’m surrounded by fruit punch, burners, and electro anomalies. I think I’m screwed, but then I see a distortion. It’s a springboard.

Raki snorts, “Don’t tell me, you got it to throw you out of there.”

Shai laughs, “That’s totally what happened.”

Raki slow claps. “Not bad. If I weren't a hardened Equestrian Agent, that might have impressed me.”

“I’ll get you one of these days, Raki.”

“Fat chance, Shai.”

“Darn.”

Silence reigns. Nothing is heard but for the crackling of the fire and the low rumbling of the soup as it boils slowly. The night outside is dead quiet. Inky blackness swallows everything beyond the few meters of flickering, shadowy light of the trio’s small fire. Anywhere else, in this season, this would be cause for alarm. But in The Zone, such things are normal, unremarkable. The land is too sick for the usual chirpings of insects. The darkness conceals things in it, yes, but it also protects those shrouded within itself. Erbse interrupts, “Interesting how The Zone can seemingly have a sense of humor, even when it seems like it’s trying its best to kill you.”

“I hear you,” replies Shai, nodding her head. “Looking for Artefacts is a great way to make a living, but it’s also a great way to wind up dead.”

“Don’t forget how bad scientists want to study them, despite the anomalies they come from fucking with the laws of physics just by existing. Hey, girls, mind if I tell you my story?”

Raki responds, “No. go ahead, Erbse.”

Erbse begins, “So there’s this little outpost near the old reactor, it’s called Hogshead. You’ve heard of it, right?” The other two nod their heads. Shai looks at the soup and rubs her belly. “Wait,” scolds Erbse. “This happened when I was new to The Zone. I arrived in Hogshead one night. I didn’t realize it was bandit turf. I was hungry, so I went into a bar…”

“I see how this is going,” chuckles Shai.

“Lo and behold there’s this bandit, the scariest stallion I've ever seen; scars, big gun, leather jacket, and he’s talking with one of the bar mares. She’s a really petite, little pegasus -- obviously one of the working girls. He’s totally drunk, being really aggressive with her, feeling her up and all that. She looks really timid and is just letting him have his way with her. Nobody else, not even the other bar mares, is batting an eye.”

The soup is boiling loudly. “Soup’s up – make it quick, Erbse,” warns Raki.

Erbse huffs, “Fine.” She composes herself and continues her story. “So he goes with her upstairs, and when I say takes her, I mean that she started leading the way and then he scooped her up and carried her off. Nopony else bats an eye. The ceiling above starts creaking and we can hear the bandit obviously enjoying himself very thoroughly, being very loud and crude. I can only imagine what he’s doing to the pegasus. This goes on for about half an hour. Nothing happens for a couple of minutes.”

“What happened next?”

“All of a sudden, I hear the loudest scream ever come from the upstairs, followed very shortly after by the bandit coming running down the stairs, barely dressed, and bolts through the door without saying a word.” Erbse started laughing. “What’d happened was that the pegasus told him what he owed her.”

“That’s pretty funny!” Shai agrees. She claps her thighs. “Now, important things, like food.”

Erbse responds, “Right. Just let me get my gloves…” Dinner is soon served. It is small and may seem meager, but it is all. It will be enough. Quiet conversations break out, but these invariably soon revert to silence. Empty bellies must be fed, and stories, though beloved, cannot sustain a Stalker. This is just one of those nights in The Zone, a group of strangers who consider each other friends, keep each other company around a fire as they spend the night keeping watching and swapping tales. Times like these are timeless, cherished, for none of them may see each other again, or survive until the next time. The stories they swap spread and take up residence in the collective folklore of that time and place. These are the legends of The Zone.

Metal spoons scrape and strike against metal mess kits. Lips slurp from cups. The pot is soon empty. It is allowed to remain dirty; no water on hand can be spared, and it is worth more than their lives to journey into the darkness. Eventually, the topic comes up. It is that one story unique to every single Stalker, and a popular one to swap.

“How did you guys wind up in The Zone?” Erbse asks.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” counters Shai.

Raki adds, “Alright. You guys first.” She pauses to licks more soup out of her battered cup. “Since you offered, you’re first, Erbse.” The zebra grins awkwardly.

“Alright,” she says. “The truth is that I never wanted to come to The Zone or be a Stalker. I was actually a foreign exchange student studying Geology at Canterlot University. I was traveling with my professor on a research trip to Grazny for the break. We were on a train that somehow got sent down the wrong track, causing us to end up in The Zone. My professor is a brilliant unicorn, no match for Princess Twilight Sparkle or any other princess, but he’s not exactly what you’d call the hardy type.” The others nod. “He promised me top marks in the course, as well as a credited role in his work about Chechneyan Geology if I went into The Zone on research trips to make observations, collect measurements, and gather samples for him.”

Shai smirked. “Never took you for an egghead.”

Erbse ignores the barb. She continues, “He was true to his word. And that’s why I’m back here.” Eyebrows raise in disbelief.

“Why?” Shai demands.

Erbse laughs, “I’m a contracted government Ecologist for Bremane.”

Shai scans her companion up and down. “I should have known. You always were too pretty to be some trigger-pulling adventurer.

“And here I was thinking that the thing to give me away would have been my tendency to look at firearms like they’re from another planet.”

Raki remarks, “That’s hardly unique, Erbse. Most of the ponies here are from peaceful parts of Equestria; chances are most’ve them’ve never seen a gun in their lives before they came here. Would you say that’s true of you folks from Zebricy?”

“Ja, we’re a kind of militaristic bunch, but we believe guns are for trained professionals. We respect weapons and their wielders as protectors of the herd. We civilians don’t have many guns back home. But those Chechneyans… I’ve never met one who didn’t call themselves a warrior. Well, except for their shamans. I used to know this mare named Zecora – real interesting, always speaking in rhyme, had a funky accent, knew how to make all kinds of magic potions. She left to live in Equestria for some reason. I think she’s in a town called Ponyville. So yeah, Zecora’s the only Chechneyan I’ve ever met who didn’t call herself a warrior.”

Shai nods. Raki replies, “Interesting. Back in Equestria, most people are scared of weapons and warriors, hate them, even. They are okay with it in the royal service, but that’s more because most ponies in Equestria have a pathological reverence for authority. Not like they ever see guns at work, anyhow.” She turns her old eyes to the oribi and asks, “Shai, what do folks back home think of guns, fighters, and all that stuff?”

Shai scoffs, “They’re just a fact of life for us.”

Erbse apologizes, “Sorry.”

“That’s just something you have to deal with when you’re a bunch of nomads who don’t care much for what anyone else tells them about borders, visas, so and so’s land, this and that territory, and all that jazz. I grew up with guns and violence. I could shoot before I could read.”

Silence. Erbse rocks a bit, leaning slightly away from Shai.

Raki asks, “So, Shai, why are you here? What brought you to The Zone.”

Shai’s demeanor is uncharacteristically rigid. She chooses her words carefully. She answers, “I picked the wrong side of a fight. During the last civil war in Zebricy, I sided with Grazny rather than Bremane, because Checheya was a better choice for my race. The Chechneyans promised us oribi citizenship, rights and a homeland. Zebricy offered their same old long-standing offer of nothing with a side of threats. I fought alongside the Checheyans. My father, not wanting to cast our whole family’s lot with what he called a hopeless terrorist cause, expelled me from the caravan. We lost… Now, I can’t go home, nobody wants to be associated with someone who not only is from a race stereotypes as criminals and troublemakers, but who is also called a terrorist. The only thing I can do is go somewhere where they need folks who can do rough work and don’t ask questions…” Shai trails off. Her jaw is clenched. “Is that what you wanted to know.”

“I’m sorry, Shai.”

“Don’t be, Erbse. That’s my problem and it’s all my fault.”

“If you’re not too busy commiserating, I’ll tell you my story like I promised,” Raki interrupts.

“Sure, go ahead, Raki,” responds Shai, looking up and leaning forward.”

Raki begins, “Being a patriotic citizen of Equestria, I applied for various governmental agencies, hoping to land a job. They don’t allow donkeys in the Royal Guard. My first cousin works in personnel at the intelligence bureau. He got me hired. They wanted me to do field intelligence, because I’m a donkey and at the time, tensions were pretty high.”

“So you’re a spy? How did I not see this one coming?”

“Because you’re always staring down the neck of a bottle, Shai. And so, I got out in the field just in time for things to calm down. Now, I also speak Zebrische, so they sent me off to Zebricy in the hopes of me not being a pony would help me penetrate further, because things were pretty tense between our races at the time.”

“When was this?” Erbse interrupts. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“This was a long time ago, at least thirty years before Princess Luna returned. Anyhow, to make a long story short, It did. I’m really good at sniffing out information and spotting useful individuals.”

“Cool,” remarks Erbse earnestly.

Raki continues, “And so, when this whole Zone thing happened, I was given some lessons in firearms and survival and sent here to be their main field agent, supplying them with firsthand information about all the goings-on in The Zone.” She turns to the oribi. “Shai, this may interest you a lot.” Shai’s ears perk up. “I am also tasked with identifying individuals who present themselves as potential participants in espionage.” Erbse sits rapt. “Furthermore, I am also tasked with countering hostile agents, cooperating with friendly agents, turning nonaligned agents, and recruiting potential agents. I have been evaluating you for a long time.”

“What are you saying?” Shai inquires, her voice dangerously low.

“I am offering you a job,” Raki answers simply.

“What’s in it for me?”

“A regular paycheck, a chance to prove yourself trustworthy, and if you do a good job, perhaps an opportunity to align yourself with the greatest power in the world and earn the right to call it your homeland.”

Raki is beaming. “I accept. What do I need to do?”

“Just keep your eyes and ears open and let me know what’s going on in The Zone and elsewhere.”

“Can do. Thank you so much, Raki.”

“No problem, Shai. I’m placing a lot of trust in you; I’m sticking my neck out for you; don’t make me regret it. Erbse, you can keep a secret, can’t you?”

“I can keep a secret.”

“Good,” replies Raki. She yaws, “So, that’s it and I’m tired. Erbse, you’re on the first watch.”

“Got it.”

Raki said, “Shai, clean and fix our guns. We’re going into the Red Forest tomorrow.”

“Genau.”

Nine hours to go in the silence under the darkness where no stars shine and no sounds echo. It has been but an hour. Three strangers brought together by chance and fate have altered their destinies. The scientist. The soldier. The spy. One steeped in learning has encountered the inexplicable but undeniable. One steeped in sin has earned a chance at salvation. One steeped in wisdom has found a chance to learn. What comes of this, where they will go, what will result, is not yet known. Whether events conspire for good or for evil, what choices they will make and how it shall end, remains a mystery. Perhaps they shall share another such night in the lonely light of a fire. Perhaps a twist of fate shall cut their lives short in an instant of singular calamity. All that can be said for certain is that their deeds and words, the stories they have shared, will carry on. These all now just a few yarns counted among the legends of The Zone.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading.
I've had this story sitting unfinished on my computer for months and I haven't been quite sure what to do with it. I figured that I might as well try to turn it from a fragment into a short story, even though I am not exactly sure what I've done. I hope you enjoyed it or got something out of it. If it's not too much, let me know what you think. As always, thanks for reading. Support me on Patreon.
Kalash93

Comments

[MindEdge]

Ok, honest critique time.
First off, its well written. The dialogue flows pretty well, and sentence structure is solid.
My complaints are with the setting, namely that its being integrated into the show. You make an effort to show that these three stalkers live in the same world as the likes of twilight sparkle and Zecora, but the existence of personal firearms completely rips the reader out of the moment.
I guess I'm harping on this too much, but i don't think a story about the zone, a place where the laws of physics are scrambled by unknown forces, needs the addition of guns to make it interesting.
The conversations taking place also seem a little boring. They're talking about things happening outside of he zone, I want to know whats happening inside the zone.
I'm probably being too harsh, and I'm sure tomorrow I'll look back at this post and want to slap myself.
Just remember, for future chapters, don't be afraid to experiment a little bit. The zone is a place where all of our understanding about the natural world are turned on its head. so go nuts!

[azednew]

Get out of here, Stalker

[Diokno44]

This is awesome, also, another STALKER/MLP hybrid where the MLP has been converted into the STALKER one, awesome!

[Tehonepony]

Shai, clean and fix our guns. We’re going into the Red Forest tomorrow.

Do these people know how to keep a bloody gun from being broken in the first place?
it is almost always impossible to fix a gun in the field unless it is a very minor issue, and if it did indeed break or jam in combat, then why arent they lying on the side of the road with a 9 mil painkiller? That and i wouldn't trust anyone else to work on something that spits lead at the ghosties.

[kalash93]

5084561
You have clearly never done the following things:
#1: Learned that "fix" can be used non-literally to mean "get it ready".
#2: Seen any other story of mine where I deal with firearms.

Also, what kind of 9mm? That's a pretty damn big category...