Fallout Equestria: S.T.A.L.K.E.R

by aegishailstorm

Chapter 30: Destiny Made Manifest

Chapter 30: Destiny Made Manifest

"It won't be much longer until we are upon Canterlot itself, what shall we do then?"

That was a question still far out of Nikolai's mind.

The Central part of the Equestrian Wasteland was much, much more lively than the 'heartland'. That Nikolai and company had spent the last week traveling through. All in all, Nikolai had counted them up, and realized that he had been in the Wasteland for all of just under two weeks now. And now, he was in the final stretch, Canterlot was in sight. Soon, he thought. He would be rolling in piles of caps, a humble lord over the Wasteland. A buzzing, metallic sphere about a hundred meters distant grappled him from his fantasizing and threw him back into real life.

"Hold on- What is- Blya... No way!" He pointed at the Spritebot as it slowly wound it's way across the road. Willow raised an eyebrow. "That's a Spritebot, you've never seen one before? What's the history here?" Nikolai itched a spot on his arm through his coat sleeve and hefted his rifle.

"I have not seen one since Splendid Valley." Flashpoint raised an eyebrow and winced. "Was this before or after I was foalnapped by you-know-who and left to rot in the what I am fairly certain was the most dangerous location with the most dangerous creatures in the entire Wasteland?"

Almost as if reacting to his statement, the robotic entity spun around in mid air, and locked it's center of mass right on Nikolai and his two companions, directing it's massive speaker right at them, before turning right around and buzzing away as though nothing had happened. The issue with this was that nothing had happened. And robots weren't usually known for reaching to passing comments made from a distance of, and a volume at, that it would have been just out of earshot for Nikolai and most other humans. Creatures not particularly well known for having a natural acclimation to picking up quaint sounds from a distance.

"Blin, it heard you, and then flew away!" The Stalker cried, gesturing from Flashpoint to the robot in a dramatic fashion, waving his hands about like he was in a grandiose foreign play." I just want to check out flying radio thing!"

"Why? There's things of value in them, sure." Willow began. "But, it's nothing immediately useful. They are armed though." Nikolai's fingers danced across the gas block of his rifle in a dismissive manner, "What kind of armament? Is this... Delivery drone with a Glock situation? Or is this the kind of thing that would take missile to put down? Surely it cannot be the latter, right?"

"I've never seen the insides of a functioning Spritebot before Nikolai." The batpony informed him. "Only little bits and pieces from rusted out carapaces or from seeing them in action. They might not look like much, but I've seen them use Plasma weapons able to burn a radroach to cinders. And that steel casing is tougher than it looks. It's just that they..."

Nikolai pressed his friend for more information. "Yes?"

"Well they aren't known for acting, at all! They buzz around, and they play music. They're supposed to be a funny nuisance, nothing more! Attacks are few and far between, and attacks on ponies are almost unheard of."

"Are they unheard of because they do not happen?" Nikolai asked him. "Or are they unheard of because... No one is ever left behind to tell story?" Willow stifled, "Either way, they're nothing more than a pleasant oddity as it stands."

"I have never seen one of them stand on anything! What is this, 'standing Spritebot' you talk about? Is like Robot I see back in Whiskey Springs? Look like pony perhaps?" The batpony rolled his almost slit pupils.

"That wasn't what I-Whatever!" The bat pony gave up, resorting to a series of under-the-breath mumbles. Nikolai reached back into his rucksack, and took long series of gulps from another canteen.

"Out here, it is a constant drive to survive. We agree, yes? Only people that have it good are the ghouls... And they are walking corpses!" Nikolai checked his digital map again, and refocused his gaze back on the road ahead. "Not enough bullets, not enough food, not enough water..." His voice grew rougher.

"Not enough Vodka!

He stopped in the middle of the road for a brief moment, just long enough to snatch up his last bottle of Vodka from home. All of 8 ounces remained, and he intended to save it for some big occasion. Which meant that, until he found himself a new way to satisfy his craving, he would be left in a perpetual state of tipsy grumpiness. Overridden only partially by his almost unquenchable thirst to keep himself entertained. He turned up the volume on his radio. Allowing an only marginally staticky tune to filter through.

"Well you're ride a black tornado 'cross the wester sky, rope an ol' blue northern and milk it till it's dry... Bulldog the Mississippi, and pin it's ears down flat... Long before you take this cowboy's hat..."

It was by random chance that Nikolai bumped the radio knob right off Zone FM. After a few moments of loud static, the Stalker took hold of the knob, and slowly went to readjust it, but, as the dial passed back over the static, something came through the airways.

"Hello!? This-" The message cut out for a few moments. Then, after about 15 seconds, seemingly ended with the words,

"-The Prairie City Lumber Mill! Please I don't know how much longer we're going to be able to hold-" A monotone beep resounded over the channel. And about a minute later, the message repeated, cutting out in the middle just as the previous transmission had.

Nikolai cracked his knuckles and rolled his aching neck. "Is destress signal, Willow, where is this Prairie City?" The bat pony galloped up to his friend, the look of worry he had on his face presented Nikolai with a feeling of only mild concern.

"Nikolai... There's no telling how old that signal is. And if it's broadcasting this freely- Then I can tell you for certain that trying to follow it is a bad idea. I've heard dozens of distress calls like that before. One time, up north... I heard one while recovering in a safe house. I got curious and decided to check it out." The Stalker paused for a moment to retie his boot string.

"Go on."

"So anyhow, I fly off in the late afternoon, and... When I get there a few hours later, who do I find but a group of very lost Stable Dwellers? Duking it out with a gang of bandits that had repurposed an old prewar radio tower as bait to draw ignorant ponies in. It was a shame, but I left as soon as there was a null in the fighting. I've flown past Prairie City before, it's a few hours northwest of here. I never thought it was worth stopping at. But... If you think it might be worth checking out- We're all ears, right Flashpoint?" The Batpony nudged the tired zebra on the shoulder.

"Huh? Oh... Yes! Of course!" Nikolai readjusted the lower strap on his two point rifle sling. "Oh, how can you be tired? Was long day... Sure... I mean, we have not slept since Zebra Cultist place. But I am sure we can get just a little closer to this Prairie City. If those ponies there have been waiting for God knows- How long! " He rested his hands on the worn magazine pouches of his vest.

"Then we-I mean, they can wait longer. Ohh...." The Stalker clutched his head for a moment, wincing in pain under his mask. "Hey, are you ok?" Flashpoint bumped his leg. Nikolai let out an enthusiastic laugh. "Why of course! I am excellent! Why would I not be?" He reached into his rucksack, stumbling along in an effort to multitask and continue making progress towards his objective, all while he took a pair of Ibuprofen tablets and washed them down with a long gulp of water from his reserve canteen. As he pulled his mask up above his brow line, both of his companions were presented with a long look at Nikolai's red, poorly shaven face, his bloodshot eyes, and his cracked lips. As he downed the tablets, a small smile overtook his face.

"Oh... Why are you staring at me? You two look just as bad!" The Stalker let forth another laugh as he redonned his mask, pulling it back down by it's dusty olive green filter.

"Is fine! Is fine! No worry! You see, Vodka work like magic for me. I just go to fast over past few days, is not bother. No no, not like time in Zone." He gestured to a cluster of roughshod brick and plaster buildings off in the distance with his right index finger.

"Willow- You said that it is about a half day's walk from here, yes? Well... Even if we started now, we would probably get there by nightfall. And human- And I am guess pony body as well- Can only go so long without proper allotment of sleep before- Boom." He raised his right palm and swung it towards the ground in an effort to convey a complete biological blackout.

"We could use rest- And, hey!" He pointed off towards a worn highway sign in the distance. Nikolai jogged up to it and examined the sign.

"Let us see... Oh! Grocery Store/Farmers Market: 1.5 Miles, just at next exit!" He would have jumped with excitement if not for the pain medication which was still settling in his stomach.

Nikolai waved his friends down, gesturing feverously to the sign. "Our fortunes took turn for better! I need more food, I need more water, I need more Vodka! Is perfect place! Come on, come on! Davay!"

A lonely tarnished grocery bag blew across the cracked asphalt from one little parking lot to another, lodging itself under the deflated and decaying wheel of a rusted out pickup truck. Beyond that stood a modest small warehouse made from grey bricks, outside, a single lamp atop a highline pole flickered incoherently, the same way it always had for over two hundred and twenty years. Against the ancient ruins, it might not have been much, but if anything. It was a testament to how much it's creators had put into it to keep it running. Even if they might not have planned to go over two centuries without changing the bulb, it was still an impressive feat nonetheless. Especially to Nikolai from a distance, and even more to the seemingly mesmerized mutant moth that was resting on the pole just beneath it.

"Pest." The Stalker mumbled.

Nikolai slowly upholstered his sidearm, letting his rifle fall upon its sling, he took a knee, unsaftied the pistol, and put one round clear through the soccer ball sized abomination., scattering its putrid remains across the ground in a mess that the Stalker and his two friends were glad to steer clear of. He reholstered his gun and took up his rifle, casually strolling up onto the sidewalk and crossing the parking lot with little care given to the various little radroaches that scurried away from his boots as he made his way to the store front, Nikolai brought his rifle up took stock of the interior with his mounted flashlight.

"It looks clear!" He shouted back to his friends, taking a step inside past the smashed grass doors and metal frames. Judging by the graffiti and burned out barrel fires, they weren't the first ones to pass through here. Though, judging by the lack of hoofprints, and the pervasive dust, it definitely seemed like no one had been through here in a while.

"Willow, Flashpoint." He waved his friends over. "Ok, here is plan. We clear out store first, and then we begin looking for valuables. I no want get shot in back, da?"

The Stalker beckoned Flashpoint to watch his back, all while Willow insisted that he explore the far side of the supermarket. It wasn't the largest one that Nikolai had ever seen, but it was still relatively large. Built out of what looked like an old warehouse, it was at least 10 meters from the smooth concrete floor to the roof. Nikolai supposed that it once had a name, but the sign outside had been burn and shot and graffitied and torn to bits and strewn all about the parking lot. As they went isle by isle, Nikolai finally got a chance alone with Flashpoint to get to ask him some questions that had been rattling about his head since they had left Fortunes Keep.

"So Flashpoint, I asked you a little while ago where you got your name from, or did I? Anyhow... Where did it come from?" The Zebra shrugged as he swung his submachine gun around a corner and advanced towards the bathrooms.

"That's an... Interesting question. I will tell you and Willow right after we're done with this." He quickly turned away in disgust.

"Do you still have that chemical suit helmet from the Laboratory?"

"Why yes... I do Nikolai, it's been taking up quite a bit of space in my saddlebags. Seeing that it doesn't exactly offer much protection against bullets, I don't see all that much of a point in it now. Or at least... Not until we reach Canterlot."

"I would rather you both acquired full chemical suits. But it is no matter, we will figure out way!" After another store isle, He patted his friend on the back, and turned back around.

"Willow!" There was a brief moment of silence as the rafters above creaked. "Yes?" The Thestral's voice echoed back.

"All good!" He exclaimed, cupping his hands around his mask. "Nothing but a few more bugs!"

"I found some stuff, and some other stuff!" Willow Lamp's voice responded.

"What!?"

"Come here!"

Nikolai and Flashpoint hurried their way across the store, right across the central path that led right from the front doors, through the checkout lanes, and all the way to the back. Wide isles presided over either side. Stacked with two to three levels of shelves each. Alongside little the little stalls outside, the produce bins inside, and the refrigerator section, it was a pretty nice establishment. Even if time had not been kind to it. Nikolai rounded a corner on the northbound side of the store, and came face to face with Willow and the sight he had been so insistent that Nikolai come and see. What he had been led to turned out to be a single skeleton clad in a mixture of professionally made and makeshift barding, and a pair of strange syringes which, after some examination, turned out to be empty bits of Med-X, and a shattered Stim pack, an item which he had previously foregone, but was now seriously considering looking more in to. The skeleton seemed to have been picked clean by the various critters which resided within the confines of the building. Complete with a prewar Equestrian Army Issued helmet which Flashpoint began to immediately gravitate towards.

"Nikolai, over here!" Willow waved his friend over to a nearby concrete support pillar. Crudely etched into it was a strange date which he didn't recognize. Willow however, did recognize it.

"This is dated to the Winter just after the Last Day. I'd wager that that poor mare over there got stuck inside and died of Radiation poisoning."

Nikolai shrugged. "Oh well. Flashpoint, how does that helmet fit?"

Flashpoint turned around and adjusted it with a forehoof. "Pretty good Nikolai, it's a little rough around the edges, and almost all of the padding has been worn away. But it's still much better protection than nothing." Nikolai nodded in agreement. "Well, let us get to looting. I see that we have walked past quite a few consumable items that I would not at all mind taking-" Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something odd, it was a utility closet with a heavily damaged terminal nearby that drew The Stalker right up to it.

"Nikolai? What is it?"

"You two go on and look through the stuff here, see how much edible stuff you can find. I am going to try and crack this door lock." Willow looked perplexed. "You? Hacking?" Nikolai laughed. " This thing is dead. But yes... Hacking, in a way." After experimentally tapping the giant keyboard, he reached behind him and drew his crowbar from his rucksack.

"Ok, ok. We'll go look." Willow told him, "Won't we Flashpoint?" The zebra mumbled something under his breath, and the two equines walked away. Leaving Nikolai alone with the rusty utility door and defunct terminal.

With Nikolai preoccupied with trying to break down a door, Willow and Flashpoint finally had a moment alone to talk with one another, as the two progressively made their way down the isles, it was Willow who began the conversation with a rather blunt question just as the Zebra reached down towards a bottom to snatch up a can of preserved dried apples.

"Flashpoint, why do you still seem to hate me after all this time?"

The Zebra pulled his head away from the shelf, banging his head on the upper shelf in the process, he jolted his head up and swiveled around to face Willow, who bore a look of discerning inquiry on his face. Flashpoint managed a small smile and then quickly resumed looking for more food. Willow galloped down the isle and snatched two sealed containers of salty crackers off an upper shelf, Flashpoint trotted over to him and looked over the Bat Pony's shoulder.

"What do you mean?" He asked in return. "I don't hate you."

Willow laughed, and fumbled with his rucksack as he entered the next isle and began to sweep what few cans and boxes of food that still remained on the shelves into his saddlebags, repeating the process in rushed silence until both of the tough canvas bags under each dark leathery wing of his were noticeably heavier, he turned and, grabbing a seemingly airtight and untarnished bag of flower, passed it to Flashpoint, staring back at him with the same curious gaze as before. "I find that a bit hard to believe Flashpoint, be honest with me. Just what is it?"

Flashpoint's right ear twitched, and his tail whisked around in a nervous manner. Willow caught onto this and took a step closer, finally, his ears flattened against his head, and his eyes lowered. "Fine, you want to know?"

"It's because of these?" Willow innocently bared his fangs, ruffling his bat wings as he did. "Just what's so bad about it? Nikolai thinks they're cool. It's a part of what I am, that's all. I've never wanted to hurt either of you two-" Flashpoint raised his right hoof.

"Stop- trying to make excuses. Nikolai is an alien from another world. If you want to know, then fine! Zebra's associate most nocturnal creatures as being the spawn of Nightmare moon. Even if I don't, I still can't shake the feeling that you're going to try and hurt either me or Nikolai... Plus, you eat ponies!" Willow's curious gaze faded into a sympathetic smile.

"Ok..." The Thestral answered uncomfortably, sounding a bit bewildered. " But have I done anything wrong to you? I drink blood from time to time, sure. But that's just a part of being a bat pony. We're sangivores. Like I said before, we don't burn in the sunlight. And I'm certainly not allergic to Garlic, I can see my own reflection in the mirror just fine. I have bitten ponies before in self defense, but they never grew fangs!" Willow drew closer to him, and Flashpoint took a step back.

"How do I know if I can really trust you? We just met you a few days ago." The Zebra eyed Willow Lamp's fangs with suspicion. To his surprise, the bat pony laughed cheerfully.

"I wanted to make some new friends and gain a few more interesting traveling companions. Is that really too much to ask? I know a few other bat ponies, but we're few and far between. Not counting my parents... I've perhaps only seen 7 or 8 in my whole life. I'm sorry if I worry you from time to time, I just hope ya know that I don't mean it."

This statement, though it took a little thinking on Flashpoint's part, eventually returned a smile to his face. "Ok- Oh!" The Threstral, to his complete surprise, rushed up and enveloped the armored zebra in the same manner that he had done to Nikolai after his rescue in Splendid Valley. Though the feeling of leathery, barbed wings on his mane felt odd. He didn't particularly care, given the fact that they no longer seemed to hold any malice.

"I know us bat ponies aren't particularly well liked in the Wasteland on account of our diets. I'm glad you and Nikolai took me in." Flashpoint's smile grew a bit larger, and he wrapped his forelegs back around Willow.

"It is no problem. Why, it was really Nikolai who's responsible for it!" The two of them sat there laughing with one another and, after a few minutes, resumed scavenging.

"After all the insane things in the Wasteland," Flashpoint added. "I still think it's almost laughable that we, of all the ponies, of all the creatures in Equestria... Would have the opportunity to make friends with an alien from another planet."

"Something-" Willow looked back at Flashpoint, his voice filling with sarcasm, "Tells me Nikolai thinks the same way."

The pair had returned with saddlebags filled with old preserved goods. Everything from peaches and kidney beans to hardtack crackers. They arrived to the sight of a wide open door, and Nikolai, who was vigorously refilling his canteens with water from a few five gallon drums tucked away in the back and laughing to himself.

"Two hundred years! Hah!" He exclaimed.

"Don't worry, I already checked! It's all good, no toxins, no radiation! Here, I even found spare canteen for each of us." He handed them each a one liter water bottle. Flashpoint stood at the threshold to the room. "Thanks Nikolai, but our canteens are already full."

"I also found something else!" The Stalker got up from his reclined position just enough to reach for a wooden crate, within was five intact bottles of Vodka.

"I can't take all of them but- I can take two of them!" He gestured over to his other side and held up another bottle, this one was a half of the way empty already. "It should go without saying that I feel much better now, I could fight an alicorn! With a musket, is not that hard, right!?"

"Ok, ok!" Flashpoint insisted," Pack up the Spirits. "And... We'll show you what we found, ok?" Nikolai wiped his mouth with his jacket sleeve. "Ok, ok. Is not problem, really. Go on, I am curious."

All in all, their, 'haul' turned out to be quite substantial for an old supermarket after generations of passing scavengers and looters. Now, as heavy rain fell outside, and gusts of mud filled wind made the rafters above them creak and groan, The Stalker and his two amicable equine companions sat around a burning oil drum, fueled by dead boards and the occasional old browned and yellowed newspaper that Nikolai would toss into the low flames only after he had read through it atop a delightful lawn chair that he had found in the back of the store.

"Well, we get a half a day off again, does anyone have any ways to pass the time?" He raised his index finger.

"Flashpoint! Tell me where your name came from! Blin, spill the beans! No, that is not literal! But please, do enlighten us. He spun the power knob on his radio until no more music came through it, and the only noise which remained was the crackling of the fire and the rain pounding against the leaky roof above.

"Well... Are you ready?"

"I-I said spill them!" Nikolai stomped his boots and slapped his knee, laughing and slurring his words as he did. The bottle of Vodka in his hands was now exactly three quarters of the way empty. And he couldn't have possibly have felt better about it.

"Ok. I don't remember much of my childhood, my mother died early on, like I told a while back, but my family was always on the run from belligerent ponies. Usually Slavers, once we had left Fillydelphia. I have been in and out of captivity all my life. So funny story actually, I was... Fairly uncoordinated as a foal. However odd it may seem to you. So much so that, after volunteering to try my hoof at bomb making, I tripped, knocked over a tray of 'ingredients' into another captive's work, it..." He winced.

"-Exploded in a blinding flash of magical light that left a half dozen raiders blinded and leveled half of the building I was in. I didn't mean it at the time, why... I was still too young to understand what was going on... Most of this isn't even from memory. It was what other's told me as I got older in life. After a few more of these, 'events'. Ponies began to call me Flashpoint, and.. As I grew older, and more coordinated. I got better, and better at building explosives. Particularly the incendiary variety."

Nikolai nodded in calm understanding as he downed a spoon of simmering hot pea soup.

"Well, that wasn't that hard, was it? So you wear your moniker of destruction as badge of honor? Good for you Flashpoint!"

He looked over at Willow, who was much preoccupied delving his way into a small IV bag of deep red blood. Nikolai couldn't help but yawn, he had gone over a day's worth now without so much as a single hour of sleep longer than he normally did. Considering that the profession of being a Stalker oftentimes took much more out of a person than it ever gave back. His eyelids only grew heavier as he methodically repacked each of his magazines, and even assisted his friends in repacking theirs. Even an inexperienced human could load a magazine several times faster than an experienced pony. One of the many, many advantages of being a human in an almost all equine world.

"Oh," he spread his bedroll out on the floor beside the fire and set up his rucksack as a sort of makeshift pillow. "Wake me up in... About ten to twelve hours. Unless monster shows up. Or Gopniks intent on robbing us blind. In that case- Hide me in safe spot and let me keep sleeping. If Enclave shows up-"

"We get it Nikolai," Flashpoint said. "We'll let you get your sleep."

Nikolai shook his head. "No, tell me so that I can get the chance to punch one of them just like I did with alicorn." He didn't really mean this, of course. While he definitely felt that he had earned the right to drop-kick an Enclave Pegasus in the most fantastical way possible, the reasonable part of him still understood just how bad of an idea that would be. Towards the Unity and 'Grand Pegasus Enclave' alike, he had adopted a shoot and flee strategy that so far, had seemed to work almost flawlessly.

"Ohoho- op!" Clutching his rifle in both hands, he curled up onto the bedroll and passed out, soon beginning to snore in a manner not all that unlike a hellhound.

"I think I'll catch some sleep as well, "Willow told Flashpoint. "We'll sleep in shifts, if you don't mind guarding us all by your lonesome." Flashpoint shrugged, and stood up, leaving his saddlebags with Nikolai. As he turned around, he noticed that Willow was gone.

"Up here!" Flashpoint looked up, and spotted his friend, hanging from a rafter by his green prehensile tail.

"How can you sleep like that!?" Willow's laugh echoed through the whole of the store. "How can you not? Enjoy your guard shift!" Just like that, both The Stalker and the Thestral were out. Leaving Flashpoint to tend to the flickering fire. The Zebra tilled the flames with a fireplace poker. He could have taken up one of the derelict newspapers lying on the floor, but he decided against it.

Nikolai found himself standing on a busy street in a small town, surrounded by a combination of modern suburban homes and thatch houses, ponies and ponified items took the place of humans. Little farmer stall, and even an ice cream cart or two. Blue skies stretched from horizon to horizon, with not a single cloud in sight, in the distance, he spotted Canterlot as it had been before the Last Day. After a few moments of standing in place, a row of armored vehicles that looked as though they had come straight out of a World War Two documentary came speeding around the corner, they stopped right beside him, and out from the second truck in the convoy stepped a mare stepped an orange Earth Pony mare with a blonde mane, she wore a Stetson hat and a drab olive green uniform. All around her swarmed Steel Rangers, though these didn't look like the Rangers he had seen in his time. Though, these Rangers seemed different than the ones he had met. For one, their armor seemed much newer and better maintained. As birds chirped overhead, the mare and her Ranger Guards walked right past Nikolai and into a literal tree house.

"Ponyville Library." He read. "Looks delightful... I remember this from somewhere. It is probably just firewood now!" He roared with laughter.

"Ma'am?" One of the Rangers asked the orange mare. "I just have to ask, why here of all places?"

"It's where it all started. Where else?" She responded in a heavy midwestern accent. The dream faded, but not before a resounding gunshot tore Nikolai from his sleep and sent him scrambling for his rifle.

"Cyka Blya- What happened!?"

"Sorry! Willow's voice cried. "Flashpoint was up all night playing security guard and..." Nikolai stood up to full height and looked about, the deformed corpse of a ghoul right by the bathroom stood a as a testament to The Stalker's present debacle.

"I told you to check the bathrooms, but you didn't." Nikolai yawned. " Breakfast first. And then... We set out for this, 'Prairie City.' And speaking of bathroom!" The Stalker rushed off away from the group in an almost blind panic, much to the amusement of his two equine companions.

After a spartan breakfast consisting of what amounted to just a few hundred calories, Nikolai, Willow, and Flashpoint set off back down the road. As of the past few minutes, they had been stuck listening to their Stalker companions awful tipsy country karaoke. Willow personally thought it was so bad that he would scare away every radroach and bloatsprite within a kilometer radius, and Flashpoint was about to commit to the firm, firm belief that it wasn't fit for the ears of raiders.

"On road again... I just can't wait to get on road again.."

"Nikolai!" Flashpoint whined. "Stop, please." The Stalker sighed, and hefted his rifle. "Willow," He took a knee, and pulled out his PDA. "Where is Prairie city? I no want get lost." He held the topographic map out for Willow to see.

"It's right there- Move the map up... There! Right in between those two sets of hills. It runs the length of the valley." Nikolai checked his PDA battery, and then asked Willow a question he thought important.

"Hey Willow, can alicorns get drunk?" The batpony cracked a snicker. "I don't know Nikolai, but if I ever see it happen, I'll be sure to go to you first!" The veil of enthusiasm which presided over the Stalker and Thestral was soon found to be contagious to the resident grumpy zebra as well, and the sound of laughter quickly overtook the faint sounds of Nikolai's radio in the early morning Equestrian Wasteland.

About half an hour later...

"So, does anyone have a plan of what we're going to do when we get there?" Flashpoint stopped his friends all of a sudden. "I mean, we don't even know what we're going to find? What do we do if it turns out to be the Enclave? Or some rouge Steel Rangers? Or 50 Raiders? Or an alicorn? Nikolai, I doubt you still have enough grenades left for something like that."

"He is right... I only have... Two, three left?"

"You lost track of the number of the grenades you're carrying on you?" Willow asked with warry suspicion. Nikolai shrugged.

"Well, yes. I did. Is that issue? I can just recount on the way there." He fiddled around with the myriad of pouches on his vest, and then examined his rucksack.

"I have two. But... I have plenty of ammunition, and half a dozen loaded magazines for rifle, two magazines for pistol. All 55 Grain full metal jackets." He pressed the magazine release paddle on his rifle and examined the ammunition within.

"All good, I had hoped to find myself more armor piecing munitions, but I suppose I will have to make do for now. Maybe I will find more at Prairie City. Come on, let us see if we cannot find broadcast from yesterday. " The Stalker clicked through the channels on his radio, and after about a minute he came across it again. The same haunting, repeating, looped message. He listened to it a few more times, and then decided to play something else, however... After the keen realization that 'Equestrian' music wasn't really for him, he opted to continue listening to the same mantra of Zone FM. All the way to Prairie City.

As the morning gradually turned into midday, Nikolai, Willow, and Flashpoint finally arrived on the outer limits of their destination and quickly moved to take up a position atop a boulder as far out of sight as was possible. Some 150 meters away from the welcome sign. Sure enough, just as Willow had pointed out, the town was located right in the middle of a small, narrow valley. With the road they were following leading past various dilapidated shops and residential buildings that were clustered along the length of the valley. The Stalker was quick to identify and point out the Lumber Mill on the far side of town, with it's massive piles of unhewn logs stacked around dirt pathways leading to various saw stations, all powered by an assortment of either now defunct generators, or a water wheel on the northeastward side of town. Beyond that still, was a bridge that led across a modestly sized river. Strewn about the landscape was all manner of ancient tree stags. All with an appropriate added post apocalyptic flare of course.

"It must have been a cozy place to live before the glowing snow started falling, eh?" The Stalker bumped his bat pony companions shoulder as he examined it through his binoculars.

"All that industry in such a small place," Willow responded. "I couldn't stand it, I prefer quiet. Something this place, judging from it's current state, hardly did and hardly would provide."

Flashpoint tapped the boulder below Nikolai. "Are you sure this is a fight worth taking Nikolai? We don't know who sent that distress call, or when it was sent. Those ponies could be decaying skeletons at this point." The Stalker simply dismissed this notion with little more than a passing wave of his hand.

Nikolai was able to pick out at least two dozen raiders in the whole of the town itself, wandering in and about the town as though it was a sort of massive base camp for them. It didn't take long for Nikolai to notice the many desecrated corpses which had been hung from buildings and tree limps alike. Trash littered the street more than any other inhabited location he had encountered before. Everything from bullet casings and stacks of preserved food containers, to skeletons, to drugs and even little bits of fecal matter which were prominent enough to be noticed from his current position. It was a disgusting sight to behold. More towards the Saw Mill, things seemed to be slightly more organized. His gaze moved up to the two unicorns which presided in makeshift parapets at the top of the highest mill. Both touted some form of long gun, affixed to the parapets on swivel mounts. In the mill grounds below trod another half dozen or so raiders. Most were bare of any form of actual protection, though a few sported bits and pieces of makeshift armor, with a few wearing full sets. Off all the ponies on the ground, the majority were actually unicorns for once, with a few earth ponies strewn about. Only about one in every 2 or three of the raiders seemed to carry an actual firearm. Still, that help Nikolai and his companions to odds of at least 8 to one. And they didn't have the home field advantage.

But... They did have two legs up on the raiders: The ever useful element of surprise, Nikolai in his whole, and a bat pony to whom sneaking about was practically first nature.

"Alright." Nikolai stuffed his binoculars away and took up his AK 101.

"Willow." He pied a glance back a the batpony, who had long since redonned his hood. "Do you see those two snipers up in the tower? Rifle scope on mine only has maximum range of 400 meters. Nothing beyond that-" He practically facepalmed as he recalled his rifle irons ranging feature. A full plan began to form in his mind.

"Alright, Flashpoint?" Nikolai glanced over his shoulder at the town, and then pulled out his PDA and began explain his course of action to his friends. "... I need you to make way down hill, try to avoid patrols, here. Take grenade." He handed one of the apple shaped explosive devices to Flashpoint.

"Here is how it will go. Willow, I want you to sneak around other side of town. Set yourself up on hill over there." He pointed to a hill about 500 meters away, just over the valley on the opposite ridgeline. "Get behind tree, and watch the dude in tower, when you see one on right side drop. You shoot. And kill other one, da? Anyhow. Flashpoint. Get down there, and... Eh... Try to lure as many of them into small space as possible. Then, use grenade and boom! While they are preoccupied with explosion.... Willow will begin execute ponies around sawmill. I... Will charge in and help out Flashpoint. Got it? I try and make simple as possible!" He unscrewed his bottle of Vodka from the previous day, and was about to down the last of it, when another idea came to his mind.

"Well? Go on!" Nikolai ushered them away.

His mind was drawn to the little bits of Styrofoam in his rucksack, and then to the remaining bottles of Vodka he had taken possession of the prior day. He watched from a distance as his friends made their way to their respective places. He was still surprised at their willingness to follow his orders, but he wasn't going to question it at a time like this. Nikolai took hold of the iron sights atop his rifle, and fumbled with them until they were ranged to about 800 meters, raising them nearly an inch above their normal resting spot atop the receiver. He stood up, steadied himself, and with a deep breath, pulled the trigger.

"Crack!"

The round left the end of the rifle's suppressor, and arced it's way to the target. A few seconds passed, and nothing happened. Nikolai took a look through his scope, and realized that both snipers were still there. He could visualize Willow across the valley, cursing in his own Thestral way about how his Rampant Alcoholism threw The Stalker's aim off. Though the blame was hardly on Nikolai. It was a shot aimed at something a little larger than a watermelon from almost half a mile away. The Stalker took a knee, and, after memorizing the exact spot where his target was through repeatedly lowering and raising his gun, steadied himself again. He fired twice, to his surprise, when he looked back at through his scope, he could see the tumbled over corpse of his quarry, lying dead in his parapet. An instant later, the other fell dead with a bullet to the back of her head.

"Well, I was right about that!" He murmured, shifting his rifle irons back down to their regular 100 meter position. He resumed working on making three Molotov Cocktails as he absent-mindedly watched Flashpoint sneak closer to the Raider's position and begin tossing rocks at passing ponies until one of them stomped over to investigate. The Stalker stuffed his makeshift bombs into his cavernous pant pockets and crawled back up to the edge of the boulder, moving his scopes glowing triangular crosshair from Raider to Raider, all of a sudden, one of them spotted Flashpoint and began to angrily make his way towards the Zebra with a drawn Machete clutched in his maw. Flashpoint began shouting obscenities at him while backing away into a single story wooden shack. More Raiders joined in, and by the time Flashpoint had darted into the building, a total of five others had crowded the inside along with him, with more still circling the building.

"Why did I agree to this- Ah!"

Flashpoint frantically scrambled away from a blade meant right for his armored collar. Now surrounded by wild screaming bloodthirsty Raiders on all sides, Flashpoint unpinned the grenade Nikolai had given him and tossed it into a corner. Gunning down the one raider blocking the entrance and galloping outside as those inside began to panic. Moments later, a concussive, fragmentation filled blast blew a hole in the side northeastern side of the one room building. Taking four raiders with it, and leaving at least ten more in a fit of rage as the whole town now set its violent eyes on Flashpoint, who gunned down a unicorn wielding a spear at close range, only to take a twenty gauge shotgun blast to his side, sending him fleeing in a panic as the Raider who had shot him met a swift end in the form of a bullet to the back of his head from Willow's carbine. The bat pony calmly moved from one target to another, focusing exclusively on the few who carried firearms.

"One... Two... Three..."

As if things couldn't get any worse for the quickly dwindling number of Raiders in the town, Nikolai came charging down the hill with a roaring battle cry of;

"Cheeki Breeki!" And the sound of Bandit Radio being played at max volume.

He followed up his initial charge with several bursts of automatic fire which downed a pair of raiders who had attempted to pelt him with submachine gun fire from the blacksmith shop across the street.

Bullets flew past and stuck the dirt and landscape all around him, though not a single one found their mark. The Stalker slowed to a determined advance, taking single shots at any raiders still remaining in the street. As he reached the bottom of the valley and the ground underfoot turned from dirt to packed gravel, he spotted Flashpoint, who was desperately trying to reload his submachine gun while pinned down behind paltry cover. The expression on his face didn't change in the slightest even when he spotted Nikolai.

"I am sorry if am am late! I did a thing- їсти свинцеву суку!!!"

Nikolai ran up to a raider in the middle of fumbling with his jammed pistol over the head with the butt of his rifle, right before stabbing him with his own hatchet.

"You're playing music now!? " Flashpoint cried, spraying an unlucky earth pony who passed within his field of view while brandishing a sawn off pump action shotgun.

"Yes! Now follow me!"

More sonic cracks echoed through the valley. Willow was putting his rifle to work on Prairie City's northern side. All while Nikolai and Flashpoint advanced from the southwest down the rows of disheveled buildings which lined their respective side of the town's main road. Nikolai swapped magazines and sprinted across the street. He dumped ten rounds into a raider sporting leather armor and wearing a much larger skull atop his head as some form of sick decoration, sending him and his rebar bayonet ended rifle toppling over. The Stalker pulled a Molotov Cocktail from his pant leg, lit it with the glowing tip of his suppressor, and tossed it right into a trio of unicorns who were in the midst of reading their own grenades. Sending a massive fireball up over the town's now long defunct General Store.

"Oww!"

Flashpoint clutched his shoulder from a sudden ache and limped on ahead in pain. The .357 Magnum round which had struck him hadn't penetrated his armor, but would be sure to leave a painful bruise. Right now, he simply shrugged it and the twenty gauge which had struck him off and kept fighting.

The duo fought their way through the town to the Lumber Mill on the far end, where they were rejoined by Flashpoint.

"Hey, how much ammo do you two still have?" Willow demanded. Nikolai swapped magazines again, returning his now second spent magazine to it's respective pouch and rocking a new magazine into place a second later, ridding the charging back and forth with his left index finger immediately afterwards.

"I've gone though three of my six." Flashpoint replied. "Two magazines, I have five left, no need worry." Willow whipped around and put an angry stallion with a revolver on his rump with three shots.

"I've eaten through about a quarter of my ammunition."

Willow reached under his robes, revealing his concealed Twelve Gauge autoloading shotgun. It looked a bit like a scaled down Spas 12 with it's heat shield. Bandit Radio finished it's third course, and a lull in the music led up to a new song.

"Slav King."

Willow managed a pained laugh. "That sounds like someone we know!" Nikolai raised his rifle above his head like a caveman and let forth a booming drunken laugh as they made their way past another dead raider and halted right behind another pile of rotting logs.

"Hey... Over there!" Another voice shouted. A pair of shotgun blasts in quick succession sent a hailstorm of splinters raining down on the three.

"Oh, you like that huh!?" Another shotgun blast boomed. Nikolai ducked out along the southeastern side of the log pile and spotted another pony, a fierce looking unicorn adorned with a welding mask and covered in sheet steel armor. On either side, he wore a pair of drum fed shotguns.

"Is boss fight, huh? Me no care- OH BLYAT!" He scrambled back as another pair of shotgun blasts tore chunks of rotten wood off the timbers.

"You're dead assholes! I'm gon' fuckin' rip you to pieces!" Nikolai winced, and readied another Molotov Cocktail.

"Blin, I think he think he sounds serious. Boom!" He ran around the other side of the pile and tossed the bottle onto the unicorns back, though it did send him into a brief scrambling panic, his armor took most of it relatively easily.

"What the- Oh!"

Without a second though to his own safety, Nikolai dumped half a magazine of 5.56 directly into the the Raider Chiefs face. Tearing the welding mask asunder and sending him toppling to the ground in a flaming, smoking, bloodied mess. but not before two pellets of twelve gauge buckshot caught Nikolai right in his right leg, a few inches below his kneecap. Sending him into a fury that made him say things that would make his mother gasp. As he scrambled back around and pulled a tourniquet around his leg, cranking the windless until no more blood left the wound.

"Cyka- At least I got him, right!?" Nikolai exclaimed, his eyes darting around under his mask, searching for danger like a cornered bear.

The Stalker's veins were filled with adrenaline so much so to the point that he could barely even feel the pain that came from his leg, he raised the pant leg and examined it. "Ah... That's nice. They went right through!" Flashpoint guided him to the ground as Willow kept lookout. "Here, let me help you out." He pulled out a roll of magical gauze and began to wrap the Stalker's leg, asking him questions in an attempt to get his mind off the injury. Which served to do nothing but make thing worse.

"Nikolai? Nikolai? Calm down-"

"What the hell Flashpoint?" He stammered, cursing under his breath as the Zebra finished his course of aid. "Where do you think that radio signal came from?"

"I... Do not know." The distant sound of galloping hooves in retreat signaled the end of the fighting, and the end of the song. The Stalker removed his mask and wiped his sweat beaded brow.

"Ohohoho! How about that mill building over there with radio dish on top, bullet hole filled walls, and barricaded windows?" He stood up, death clenching his rifle so much so that he could feel the warm polymer through his leather gloves. "Come, to the victors go the spoils... But first, I need to check something." Willow and Flashpoint looked at each other as the Stalker walked off, lighting and tossing his last Molotov in a fit of measured rage at an already desecrated and long since wrecked tractor.

"Hello!? Is anyone here!?" He stepped over a body from a pony neither he nor his friends had shot. Judging by his stance, she had been trying to flee when he had been gunned down when she had attempted to flee. Her clothing and light leather armor, while still tarnished and torn, was much better kept than any of the raiders outside. A 10 Millimeter autoloading pistol lay by her side alongside a dozen or so spent casings and two empty magazines.

"Was this who sent the call? No... It could not have been, the voice was male."

The door was wide open, long since having been torn off it's hinges, with his rifle raised, up to high ready, he began to search around. Once a home for the loggers, it had long since been seemingly repurposed as a hold of supplies and, judging by the sandbags and corpses, a makeshift fortress. The Stalker activated his rifle light and did his best to aggressively limp down the hallway. As he passed a once master bedroom, he heard a noise that sounded like a little squeak. It was faint, but he was certain that he had heard it.

"Hello? He called out, "Is someone there!? I am friend! Please, you no shoot!"

The Stalker came to a hole in the wall, and ducked into the room, sweeping his muzzle around it at equine level. His eyes were drawn to a pile of crates along the far side of of the room. The Stalker wandered between it and the small radio set on the far side of it.

"Hello?" No answer came, but he swore that he could hear movement coming from something under the crates. In one move, Nikolai bounded forward and tore them away, raising his rifle and knocking the rest of the obstruction away with the suppressor on the end of his barrel. He was met with the barrel of a lever action shotgun pointed right back at him. He could have pulled the trigger right there, but he paused. There lay three earth ponies mare, a stallion, and an young filly. All looked to be in terrible shape, and all wore barding just like the dead pony outside the entrance.

"W-What in Celestia's name are you!? The stallion stammered, his voice muddled by the grip of the shotgun which was seated firmly in his mouth.

"Hello! Name is Nikolai!? Are you the ponies that sent call over radio!? I help! Please no shoot?" The mare fainted on the spot, and the little filly, a brown earth pony who wore a tattered, equally brown cloak stared up at him with eyes filled with wonder.

"Uh... Sir? You're on fire." Nikolai raised an eyebrow, and turned his head just in time to notice the little bits of flame slowly making their way up his left sleeve.

"Ah!" He dropped his rifle on his sling and smacked his arm until the flames died out. "Wait- You heard our distress call?" Nikolai smiled. "Da- I mean, yes! You sound like you need help, so I come help?" The stallion's wild eyes remained fixed on Nikolai as he hesitantly lowered his shotgun.

"Oh- Thank ya! Ya came a little late though- " The Stallion stopped himself as he went to worry over the mare. The filly poked her mother, who slowly reawake and got back to her seated position. She clutched her filly as she trembled with fear and tears welled in her wide eyes. Nikolai took a knee.

"Well, I am here now. Can you all walk? What are your names?" The stallion cleared his throat. "Um, I- Am Winding Sprocket, This is my wife, Painted Flowers, and that there is our l-little b-bundle of joy, Umm..."

"Potato Sack!" The foal answered, tugging at her cloak. Nikolai chuckled and removed his mask. "It is nice to meet you, I am sorry I could not get here sooner. Were there more of you?"

"Yep." The mare answered with a hopeless sigh. "There were ten of us, and then that gang of raiders found us and chased us cross-country for 5 miles until we ended up here. We heard the commotion outside and thought it was just them fighting amongst themselves until you walked in- Um, how can we repay you? We don't have much, but-" Nikolai's smile grew wider.

"It is alright, do not worry. I was right, and that is enough. You do not need to give me anything, I will take my fill from outside." Winding Sprocket arched an eyebrow on his dirty face.

"Right about what?" Willow trotted in at that exact moment, hood down and battish features out and about for the whole world to see. The Painted Flower probably would have fainted right then and there had it not been for Winding, who held her upright.

"Oh... Hello there!" He grinned and waved a friendly hoof in their direction. Potato sack waved back. "Hi there!" Willow smiled awkwardly.

"Please do not... Freak out, this is Willow Lamp! He is a good friend!" Willow's facial expression grew to exhibit a mild degree of concern.

"Should we show them Flashpoint?" Just to add insult to injury, the clopping of hooves just down the hallway led to Flashpoint's rushed introduction to the terrified family. "Someone called for me?" He asked about.

Nikolai turned back to the family with a guilty face. "Please don't panic and start shooting!"

"Oh, and Nikolai- " Flashpoint began, paying no mind to the trio of confused, terrified, starving, and broken ponies sitting on the floor. "There is a very familiar looking Spritebot hovering outside. And it isn't playing music. Do you want to go and check it out or-"

"In a moment." He responded calmly, turning back to the family and reaching out to pat the mare and stallion on the back as a gesture of reassured safety, receiving a sudden hug from the filly in the process An act which he returned in kind.

"We need to take care of these ponies first. Just... Put robot on hold, ok?" Flashpoint smiled at the ponies, and walked out. Nikolai looked back at the poor family.

"Alright... Let's see... What do you need-"

"Nikolai!" Flashpoint called out. "It's started moving!"

"Blin." He redonned his mask, took up his rifle, and began to walk away. "Willow, please watch them. I... Uh, I believe we might have a problem outside." The Stalker rushed outside in a hurry, and nearly ran face first into the giant mobile radio, stopping less than a meter from it's giant metal grid speaker.

"What is it? Hey... Flashpoint! " He turned to his zebra companion. "I need time alone with robot thing." Flashpoint shrugged and trotted back inside.

"Well?" Nikolai slung his rifle, and set his hands in his pockets. "Are you going to say something? Hey! Start talking. Please? I do not have the time for this. " He checked his watch, and tapped his left foot in an impatient manner.

"Blyat! Are you just going to hover there!? Hello? Robot man?" A series of earsplitting melodic beeps answered his question.

"Fine! What do you want!?" The Stalker pleaded with it. He was answered only with silence.

"Look, I am not going until I get a response out of you... You... Hmm... Perplexing hunk of floating steel!" To his surprise, a voice actually answered back this time around.

"Then you would be waiting here a for a very long time." A deep baritone voice replied. The Stalker would have shaken his head in disbelief, but at the present time he didn't particularly feel a deep need to exaggerate his actions. "It's you! From Old Olneigh! You said a little bit, and left me to die! There is some disgusting shit in that place man!"

"Well..." The robotic voice responded. "I had nothing to do with that, I am quite busy, and Old Oneigh's environment isn't the most accommodating to Spritebots. Call me Watcher." Nikolai snickered, but held his posture.

"Watcher? If anything, you are almost as deserving of the nickname of Stalker as I am. Why are you following me?"

"Following you? Oh... I'm not following you Nikolai, I'm just watching you." Nikolai murmured a curse in Ukrainian under his breath and wagged an accusing index finger at the robot. "Stop lying to me, you are not doing any favors. Please tell me why." The voice laughed.

"Well... In the whole Equestrian Wasteland, how often does someone get the opportunity to get to talk with an alien from another world-" Nikolai held up his left hand in a halting gesture, something that he doubted that the robot paid any attention to.

" How did you figure that out? Ohhh... Nevermind, don't answer that. Well if by alien, you mean that I am not from around here, then yes. Of course. Now what do you want? Or are you just trying to be creepy?"

"No... But I figured your exploits were worth a look, it looks like your destiny is being made manifest already, and judging by your actions today, it certainly seems like an odd one." Nikolai arched an eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean? All of this destruction was simply a matter of prudent curiosity, with only a small bit of malice and a large amount of greed added to it!"

"Check the main sawmill building." The voice responded, ignoring his question. "Those raiders left some intact Stimpacks and healing potions in there. Judging by your warpath, I'd say you could probably put them to good use. " With that, the robot turned around, and began hovering off in the opposite direction, out of the Lumber Mill and away from Prairie city in as nonchalant a manner as possible.

"Hey! Strange Watching person! Thank you for the assistance!" He waved goodbye to the Spritebot, and was answered only with the faint playing of an incoherent song as the thing drifted down the road.

"Who was that?" Flashpoint asked him. Nikolai removed his mask, looked over at his Zebra friend and answered. " An actual Stalker. Crazy robot man, his manners aside, I do not really like him. But, he did point me in direction of some very hard to come by medical supplies in main Saw Mill. So I suppose it was a net positive but still, is it cool? Yes. Do I want that thing following us any more than I want the Enclave or Unity following us? No. Not at all." He walked back inside and took another knee besides Willow, who was hoofing out emergency blankets and bits of food and water to Winding Sprocket, Painted Flowers, and Potato Sack.

" Do not worry about that." He told them, "Can you walk? You are probably almost jumping to after hiding there for so long, yes? Well... Flashpoint? How do you feel about taking care of them while I bring Willow with me in turn?" The Thestral uttered a laugh and turned to greet his friend.

"I was just getting to know them, I you don't mind, but I'd like to stay here with them a bit longer." Nikolai smiled under his mask as he turned to view the family he and his friends had spent the past 20 minutes rescuing. The fatigue of prolonged combat was once more beginning to set in, something that he figured he'd distract himself from with a healthy dose of 'virtuous' pillaging from ponies that really didn't need the things that he now wanted any more.

"Cap Emperor, huh?" The Zebra asked him. Nikolai laughed, and nodded in triumphant agreement. "Well, it doesn't seem so far off now... And we even save a few ponies in the process! How cool is that!? Oh, if only Babushka and дідусь could see me now! I am certain they would be proud."

"Yep." Flashpoint responded. "I'm sure they would."

Comments

[Rotkiv Steelmug]

If that Spritebot was anything to go by, I'd imagine that was DJ PON3 on the mic... considering he always seems to have some sort of interest in the protagonist of many FO:E stories

[Diamondized]

I've been reading the adventures of idiot man and his pet zebra for so long now that I completely forgot it was an incomplete story. Good stuff.