Your True Colors

by RainbowSpecOps

Chapter 3

Stanislav Rodion (Somewhere in The Everfree)

Stan tried with all his intellect to recall what had just happened up in the sky not seconds ago. His thought processors were running off the charts as every second felt like agonizing long minutes. Those thoughts lead to questions and those questions lead to the ensuing panic that followed closely. The panic slowly built higher and higher as he fell closer and closer to the treetops below, the dangers that may lie below them as well. Panic is an emotion that had no rightful place on a battlefield, with panic comes no coordination and poor focus. It is something that must be taken by the horns to control, to kept it in check at all times.

The question that caused him to panic in the first place, after seeing his comrades randomly vanish and being struck silently by lightning was, "Am I dead?" He cocked his face and eyebrows in a disgusted look under his mask and helmet. Stan then started to touch is body in a weird way, patting his legs and arms for a few passing moments when he lost track of is location. The treetops slammed into his armor and face, causing it to sting slightly. Each branch was a luscious green with a mix of dry twigs, snapping and whipping him as he pierced through the thickness. He was abruptly stopped by a rotting branch that then fell about a story to the ground,he was caught afterwards by his parachute in the branches.

The ground was covered with brambles and thorny vines what were all kinds of sizes branching out in all directions low to the ground. Stanislav dangled in the air by his parachute just above the thickness of everything, unsure of what to do. He motioned for the headset he had enclosed in his helmet to speak through comms. The piece was very useful for gathering information about orders and what was needed to be done. His hand pressed down on the speaker button to talk on the same frequency that the other Russians were supposed to be on. He stuttered a little due to the shock he was in.

"Privet? (Hello?)" He finally said clearly into the microphone, hoping that something would come back and respond. Stan waited for a minute before he was greeted by constant static. He trashed the Russian and went to English, "Hello? Is anyone out there?" His voice was booming and clear through the microphone, enough that he heard himself through the speaker section. Static again.

"This is what death fells like? I fell so real though." He looked back down to his body and dismissed it. "There has to be something more to this." His stubbornness kept telling him he can't be dead, that their should be more to death than being in the same scenario he started out in. His eyes stared down to the ground again, he knew he needed to get down.

"Alright, it would be wise to scout the area." He said out loud into the musty air for no one to hear. Stan loosed his grip on the parachute handles that controlled his glide downwards. His hand motioned to one of the pouches on his back, the clip snapped open and gave him one of the emergency flares he carried at all times. Stanislav held the flare to look at its appeal and ingenuity, how the world has made so many things that he had taken for granted, this one was light. The cap suddenly snapped off and carefully landed in his hand. His left hand firmly grasped the cap and with a powerful rub against the flare, the flare sparked to life in a mass of spewing red flame.

Without a moments notice, he gingerly tossed it to the clearing that was below his clad figure. It illuminated the slightly dark area with a blinding light that could be seen for miles if it were night. The billowing smoke surrounded him and lightly made its way into the sky, it was slightly black so it could be seen as well. "Ok, now the parachute." The parachute was the hardest thing to take off when skydiving, the intricate straps and strings that the Russians used were pointless. It was hard to take off on solid ground, the fact that he was dangling in the air only tightened the harness on his body, making it rather impossible.

A minute of work only yielded one of the three straps connected to his body to be finally snapped off. His legs unknowingly thrashed about helplessly in the open air as he was getting fed up with the parachute, putting his strength into the firm cords. He heard the sounds of his parachute starting to buckle from the lack of support of weight, but it wasn't him. He noticed that he didn't get any looser from the noise and went into confusion, still working away.

He then looked up to see where he was with the parachute connected to him, a dark shadow formed all around the area. A black rectangular mass with 3 large parachutes slowly drifted down right over him. His pupils widened to the size of marbles as it slowly came closer, stumbling to get free. "Oh shit!" Was the only thing that loudly mumbled from his mouth. Time was not on his side as the tank drifted closer and closer, he tried in vain to release himself from the tomb. "Come on! Come on!!" He stuttered as the branches above started to snap and fall. His body was flailing violently as his hands started to bleed from the fine cords he pulled on.

Then something went off in his head like a bomb, without thinking he grabbed his bayonet and swiped the cords above his head in desperation. His breathing was thick and sweat trickled down his face as all the strings on his left where completely gone. Stanislav skillfully tossed the knife into his left hand the cut through everything on his right. Yelling as he suddenly plummeted downwards to the hard ground. Upon landing 3 seconds later, he let out a large grunt as his legs buckled, then landing to his hands. The knife had cut his thumb about half a centimeter deep, he hissed from the sting but it was manageable, even though the blood was dripping constantly.

The pain didn't stop the tank from falling on him, he had already forgotten about it until a branch landed in from of him with a thud. There was no time to look up as he hurled his body into a patch of soft grass a few feet away. Not a second had passed when a loud boom echoed through the forest, the tank had come to a stop on the ground, his leg only a foot away from the tracks. Stan controlled his breath and let out a suppressed but audible laugh of amazement and joy. "Hahahahaha, thank Lenin's name!" Stan shook his head in disbelief and patted his chest. He then slowly raised himself and looked at the tank, snickering a little "There's my transport."

Before he could check it out, or to even collect himself, voices had started to drone behind him about 100 feet away. Stanislav automatically dropped to the ground to not be spotted. "What do y'all reckon that was fellas'?" He recognized it as English with a twist of a rural tone. Another voice that sounded royal and feminine spoke out in conclusion. "I have not a clue fair Applejack, but a storm is approaching here, I will continue my search for her and the anomaly that has taken place. I want all of you to go back to Ponyville and stay on guard, all of you have done well." It spoke righteously, another protested. "Are you sure? Its dangerous out here, especially if somepony is trotting a muck." It sounded concerned and intelligent.

"All is fair, please go." Said the royal voice again as the sound of soft pattering filled the air. "Thank you princess." said the smart voice again, Stan couldn't make out what it said as it was too far away to successfully listen to. He looked around in confusion at what he heard. "Ponyville? What kind of a name is that? And Applejack, somepony? That makes no since...Hmm, it is no concern at the moment, I must search this forest for my fellow soldiers." His body was hoisted up and back onto his two feet in seconds, dusting his self off with his one good hand.

The T-90a wasn't even damaged, everything on the outside looked well and rather untouched. The parachutes that blanketed the outside of it were very bothersome as he started to take them off. He cut the strings that were attached to the thing just to make it easier, the clank of metal below his boots as he maneuvered his body around the top of the tank. "I may have use for one of these." He said as he successfully tossed the parachutes into a pile, he used his knife to cut one into the shape of a stretcher just in case. His body walked over to the hatch on the main gun turret, ripping it open with an obnoxious screech as both sections parted to reveal a hole. Since the hole was to small, he quickly unhooked the PKP Pecheneg from his chest and placed it atop the turret.

The confined space was dark and dormant, nothing had been in it for a while it looked like. "Must have been freshly produced. I can check later after I return." It was hard to even see is hand in front of his face as he leaned forward to move. He grabbed his MP443 and flicked the LED flashlight on, illuminating the space fully. Stan looked around and strained his eyes for what he wanted, quickly finding the camouflaged fabric. "The tank would produce too much noise, better to cover it up and use it later." With that, he tugged the tarp off the rack it was on and climbed back out of the tank, sheathing his pistol into place.

Thunder rolled in the distance from his location when he crawled out of the tank, he looked upwards and was greeted by dark clouds slowly coming in. "I must hurry." He said as he unraveled the tarp into one piece, climbing onto the tank once more to place that damned thing. He shifted his body and he hurled each end of the tarp into all directions of the tank, grabbing his machine gun and jumping off. The tarp was weighted on all 4 ends with lead pellets so it wouldn't blow away in moderately bad winds, mixed with the think tree cover it was one less thing he had to worry about.

Stanislav pulled the bolt on the PKP Pecheneg back and then pushed it forth to loosen the belt cover. He lifted the cover and placed an ammo canister into a holding clip to have it snap into place under the gun. Twisting his hand, he held the string of bullets and the guided them under the cover as he slapped the cover back down onto it. He used some spare cloth in his pocket to plug up the cut on his thumb. It was a little to big for his preference as he cut it into a smaller strip, he used his teeth to get a good tug on the knot.

He didn't look back as he started for the forest, the crunch of vines and leaves were moderately loud with each step he had taken. His gun was lifted up in both arms, ready for use if needed as he started his own search party into the gathering storm.

Author's Note:

Stan finally starts to meet ponies in the next chapter. Patience.

Comments

[TheFimFicCritic]

Sorry I could not resist.

[RainbowSpecOps]

4493769 Sweet Celestia!...

[TheFimFicCritic]

4493820 Come on you know this was bound to happen!