//------------------------------// // .:LOG 3:. - A Friend in Misery // Story: Secrets of the Zone: Ghosts of Chernobyl // by TheFullCrumb //------------------------------// Twilight tossed and turned in her sleeping bag, the voices of the Stalkers around her having long since drifted off into nothingness. “Twilight!” “Don't rush in there, sugarcube! It could be-” “Little Sister!” A sudden sound had her bolt upright, her new Black Kite aiming around at the surrounding darkness. She swallowed, sliding the pistol away until the darkness gave way to Nimble starting a fire, Vano, Zulu, and Kovalsky already drinking from some bottles of vodka they had found in a nearby ruin. Her breathing came out ragged and fast, her eyes darting around. Tears fell silently as she whispered to the dark. “I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry.” A hand appeared in front of her, a bottle in its grasp. “Hey, is a bit of celebration, Sparks. Seven year anniversary of everyone meeting the Major.” He popped the top, letting her grab it in the field of energy he had always witnessed her use. With a sniff, she grimaced, taking an experimental sip. With a sputter, she let the hand take the bottle back. “Maybe not for me.” “Is acquired taste. Can I sit with you?” Nimble took a seat beside her, looking up at the moon in the darkness. He sighed, leaning back on his arms. Twilight looked at her friend, scooting closer for warmth. He did not react, the scarf over his face only allowing his eyes to be visible. “The moon is good friend. Long time ago, I was gun runner, Sparks. Very, very good. If it was not for Vano and Zulu, that job would have killed me. The Zone wants us all.” He took a sip of the bottle, spitting as he looked at it closely. With a grunt, he tossed the bottle into the bushes, shaking his head. “... I don't exactly have a home to go back to anymore, Nimble.” Nimble looked down at her, his eyes wide in surprise. Sparks never usually talked about herself, but this was something incredibly personal. He stayed silent as she spoke, listening to her every word. “What you've seen me use, in my world-” “Your world?” “I'm not of your world-” “That dolbo yeb Vano was right for once. Continue.” “The power is called 'magic.' However, my home was under attack. I, I tried to help. I tried to stop the attack, b-but-” She stopped when she felt a hand on her head. Nimble was slowly rubbing her head, looking away from her face as he looked off into the distance. He hated admitting it, but at that moment, he felt a bit of camaraderie with Sparks. He sighed as he looked back up at the moon. Sparks began to sob quietly as her memory brought grief back to her. “My home, my castle, my friends, they're probably all dead because of me!” She flailed her hooves in a gesture of distress, turning to hug Nimble tightly. He silently turned, returning the hug as he reached up to lower his hood to hide the tears beginning to stream down his face. Twilight could feel the warm liquid beginning to drip down onto her face as she looked Nimble in the face. “Y-you're crying? Why?” “Because I have no home either. Vano and Zulu, they're family. Brothers.” He looked up at the sky, pointing at the stars. Twilight sniffed, letting Nimble wipe the tears away from her face as they returned to looking at the stars. “T-They're beautiful. The stars that you could see from my home... they were nothing like this.” She snuggled tighter against Nimble, soon falling asleep once more, the nightmares banished for the following night. Nimble sighed, drawing a blanket around the both of them, staring out at the silent darkness. “Nimble, what's- Oh.” “Vano, be quiet.” Vano retreated quickly to the fire, letting Twilight and Nimble fall asleep against each other, Nimble barely noticing that Twilight's wing had draped itself across him. Vano looked towards them, smiling as he looked back at Zulu. “Zone is quiet tonight. Good, right?” Zulu nodded, drinking from his bottle of vodka as he looked at the two sleeping side-by-side. He had his RP-74 laid out in front of him, the pieces drying by the fire from the water he had used to scrub the build-up off. “Nimble needs friend, Vano. We may be brother, but not friend. Sparks is good for him.” --------==|0|==-------- Nimble woke with a start, Vano poking him with the end of his own Kalashnikov. “Get up, Nimble! Day is here!” Nimble looked up, seeing the sunlight streaming in through the broken roof of the building they had taken shelter in for the night. Sparks was already up and awake, staring into a broken mirror while her magic held a combat knife close to her mane. The hairs had gotten tangled and twisted since they had found her, and none of them really knew much about haircare. Nimble was bald underneath his hood, owing to deciding to shave his hair off many years before. “Sparks?” “I look like I don't belong, comrade. Huh, comrade. The same as saying friend, but in your words, not mine. Anyways-” With a quick slash, she cut the rear part of the mane short, lowering the knife, “- I look more like I belong with you dumbflanks.” She smiled, sliding the knife into Vano's waiting sheath. A torn piece of cloth wrapped around what mane remained, tying it into a neat, short bun on the back of her head. Nimble looked it over, nodding as he approved. “Clean cut. Nice work.” “Nimble, we must leave. Mercs followed us.” “Yebat'! Really?!” Nimble lifted his AK-47, pulling the slide back as he looked around. Kovalsky returned from the corner he had taken to sleeping in the previous night, lifting his AKS-74/2 as he looked around. “Relax, Stalkers. Looks like Hatchet and his squad.” Everyone visibly relaxed at the name of the familiar mercenary leader, smiles appearing on Vano's and Zulu's faces. “Wonder if he has better Chechnya vodka?” Zulu shrugged, looking out the nearby entrance as the aforementioned mercenary entered. With a wave, he motioned the group over, looking them all over. “Comrades! We heard what happened to Strider. Is shame. We're here to help.” Nimble clipped his Kalashnikov to his backpack, holding his hand out in agreement. “Then we find Strider's attacker, and Kovalsky guts them!” Sparks watched them, her ears once more flat against her head as she stepped away from them slowly. Nimble looked back at her, a look of confusion on his face until he heard the thumping. Snapping his head forward once more, he watched as the demented, monstrous form of a Pseudo-Giant rumbled over the nearby hill. His face turning pale, he reached forward, spinning Hatchet around to face the mutant. “Yebat'! Run, comrades, run!” Without any more prodding, the rest of the Stalkers and mercenaries present began sprinting in the opposite direction, trying to head for some small structures in the distance. As they continued to add distance between them and the Pseudo-Giant, Nimble glanced over at Sparks, watching her eyes as small tears flew from the edges, barely noticeable except to those who might be looking for it. He looked down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, keeping up the pace as everyone continued to try to escape from the rampaging Pseudo-Giant. Almost immediately, a massive structure loomed ahead, causing Vano, Zulu, and Nimble to whoop with laughter and cheer. “Jupiter! Hurry, comrades! To the building!” With a smile on their faces, they dived through the main doors, Nimble pausing for a second to touch where the Chimera had slammed into the door. With a yelp, he was dragged inside by Zulu, Hatchet's mercs slamming the door shut. Sitting down on a nearby crate, Hatchet took off his gas mask, smiling with a warm grin at the group he had escaped a rather gruesome death with. “Der'mo, that was close. At least your friend there was more observant than us, eh?” He motioned to Sparks, smiling with what Nimble assumed to be a knowing smile. Shaking his head, he listened at the massive steel door, trying to see if the Pseudo-Giant had really given up. Heavy breathing outside the door answered the question rather quickly. He turned, tapping Sparks on the side. “We need to talk.” --------==|0|==-------- As soon as Nimble and Sparks were away from the rest of the group, Sparks broke down into tears, gripping onto Nimble tightly as she sobbed into his Sunrise Suit. He looked down at her, scratching behind her ears where he knew she liked him to. “Sparks, during the escape, you, eh, you were crying. Why?” Nimble set her down, looking intently at her eyes for a response. “I... I was reminded of an escape that me and my friends, we, uh, had to make.” “Tell me how you came to be here, comrade.” Sparks perked up, looking at Nimble with a weak smile. He had called her, for the first time, comrade, like friend, but in the Russian's terms. She breathed in and out, trying to sort out her mind before she started. “It was, well, it was an attack of sorts. Right after my ascension into being a-a Princess of my land-” “You, you're royalty?” “Y-yes. I d-don't like the title, though. I don't feel important.” She looked up to see Nimble looking at her with a fire in his eyes. “You are important, Twilight Sparkle. No piece of shit yebat' can tell you that you are not.” He leaned back, motioning for her to conitnue. “There was a fire, and shouting. Ponies declaring their allegiance for the new 'Prophesied Alicorn' – apparently me, but I never knew this – and attacking the other three princesses present. I-I tried to teleport everypony to safety, but I-I think I put too much power into the spell. Instead of teleporting everypony to safety, I teleported them who knows where, and me to your world. I-” Nimble pulled out a small locket, handing it to Sparks. She stopped for a minute, smiling as it finally dawned on her. “You used my real name, not my nickname.” “You're not a kid, my malen'kaya loshadka. You're a Stalker, like the rest of us,” he stood up, smiling as he spoke, “a Scavenger, Trespasser. An Adventurer, a Loner, sometimes a Killer, but most definitely an Explorer. But, unfortunately, you'll come to the final part of being a Stalker at some point, Sparkle. And that... Is being a Robber.”