The Zone is friend to none, and enemy to all. To a Bandit, it is the proper way for their lives to gain the power they lacked in their previous lives. To the Military Man, it was something to be controlled, to be feared. To the STALKER, it was home.
The Zone is friend to none, and enemy to all. To a Bandit, it is the proper way for their lives to gain the power they lacked in their previous lives. To the Military Man, it was something to be controlled, to be feared. To the STALKER, it was home.
But for a single creature from another plane of existence, the Zone is but the greatest threat in the nature of the world.
There will be war, and they will be right in the middle of it.
- DISCLAIMER - This work of fiction takes place after Twilight becomes a princess, although almost immediately afterwards. It is a crossover set seven years after the events of Call of Pripyat, the third STALKER game. I will use references to every single game, including the Original Adventure arc. - END OF DISCLAIMER -
Welcome to a crossover I wanted to do, but never had enough ideas for. Loosely inspired by See the Zone and Survive. Uses original characters and three of the minor characters, as most of the main characters have either moved on or died in the storyline of Secrets of the Zone.
Three men stood at the entrance to a large metal structure. One shifted uncomfortably underneath his long coat, his poorly maintained armour patched with whatever he could find. Another faced the other way, keeping watch for any number of creatures or humans that could simply charge through the brush.
“Wolf, I do not like this. We are exposed the longer we stand out here.” The third man, kneeling down near the entrance to the structure, straightened his standard issue combat vest, standing up to face them.
“Ivan, keep your cool. We barely escaped bloodsuckers, eh?” He nudged Ivan as he looked over at the one who was staring back at the bushes. That one's armour was dark grey, marked with blood and various holes where previous owners had been shot, usually by him. It had been patched as well as any soldier could patch their armour, various old suits cannibalized to repair it.
“Keep quiet, you two. We do not know what's out there. The best we can do is to keep to ourselves, yes?” Ivan and Wolf glanced at each other, before sweeping him into their arms and dragging him into the metal structure. The door creaked shut as Wolf tossed a makeshift torch into the room.
“It's clear. Hope we can keep-” Voices alerted them to another group within the building.
“Chush' sobach'ya! You're kidding!” STALKERs were seated around a fire, their bottles of Chechnya vodka shining clear in their hands. Wolf and Ivan smiled, looking back at their STALKER friend.
“So, Aravich-”
“Remember, it's Alexei. Aravich is that eblan back in 100 Rads Bar. Hope Barkeep still has the best vodka on tap.” Without another word, all three jumped down, their weapons clearly strapped onto their packs where they would not be a threat. The sound of boots impacting the ground had the effect of causing the stalkers by the fire to scramble for their weapons, mostly badly-repaired AK-47 assault rifles. When the group of three came into view, they relaxed, their bottles once more coming out as they reminisced about previous exploits. Alexei looked at their group. They seemed to be little more than rookies, new blood having made its way into the Zone from the outside, and yet, they had the eyes of seasoned veterans of many combat situations. He stared down at a strange member of their group, one who had anatomical differences he did not expect.
It had wings.
It had a horn.
It was a quadripedal creature. That being said, he watched it intently. The Stalker it leaned on stared at Alexei until he looked straight at him.
“What's that there? New mutant?” One of the campfire stalkers tossed a bottle to Alexei, smiling.
“Our sniper, comrade. Not much to look at, eh? She's tougher than she looks, and a hell of a shot.” Alexei did not respond, merely sipping his vodka as he watched the group interact. They reacted like friends long lost to one another instead of strangers, the vodka a great incentive to make the others feel as welcome as possible. Wolf leaned over, rubbing his hand on her head. A soft sighing escaped her mouth as she continued to sleep.
“Soft, like good pillow. Like Duty's beds. Curious.” Ivan raised his bottle, pointing to his new 'friends.'
“To the Zone! May her wonders continue to grow!” The rest of the stalkers raised their bottles, repeating the second sentence of Ivan's short speech. Alexei was still intrigued by the strange unicorn with wings that lay against the stalker. As his eyes adjusted more to the light, he noticed she was purple, almost... cartoonishly so. Large eyes that seemed unnatural, with an almost human smile on her face.
“So, where'd you find this... 'loshad', eh? Not a creature of the zone-”
“I'm a stalker, like you, and trust me, you're not as smart as you think you are.” Alexei took that moment to look up, staring directly into the barrel of a SVDm Dragunov rifle. It floated, surrounded by a purple field of energy. He swallowed, smiling. “I'm also a pony, dolboeb.”
“As for how we found her, comrade, well, we can tell you that in a short while...” A bottle lifted to the pony's mouth, lifting up as she downed a third of the bottle.
“Comrades! To great scavenging, good drink, and new friends!” Alexei grunted, standing to walk out through the door they had come through. Earlier, he had noticed a ladder to the roof of the metal structure, letting him find a place to sit by himself. He rarely slept, his mind always active to allow him to see threats before they saw him. There was a good ventilation pipe, leaving him with a relatively comfortable backrest as he sat down, his own rifle clanking as he set it down. Wolf and Ivan had been his travelling partners for seven years, ever since the escape of the Major, a man that many would assume was unable to die, his proficiency with various weapons beyond anything they had ever seen. Clanking up the metal ladder alerted Alexei to another stalker climbing the ladder, the leader of the group they had met, from the looks of it.
“So, you want to tell me the story of how you found little Miss Purple down there?” The stalker lifted a bottle of what appeared to simply be purified water to his lips, grunting as he swallowed. He held it out to Alexei, who took it without a second thought.
“Sure. I mean, the loshad, her name is Twilight. The big guy, well, you haven't seen him yet. Protects her like a small child.” Alexei chuckled, staring up at the sky.
“Like a father to a child, huh.” He turned back to the stalker, who was grinning. “What's your name, stalker?” The stalker froze, relaxing when he let the question sink in.
“To be honest, don't got one. Took one for myself that everyone knows. All of 'em, they call me Nimble. I can get anything from anywhere.” He retrieved a small metal flask, downing a large gulp from it. “True Chechnya vodka, better than the govno that they usually drink.” He placed it once more inside his jacket, staring up at the clear sky, stars beginning to show. “It's a long story, my friend, a long one. And yet, it feels like it happened yesterday.”
“Nimble, you sure the cache is this way? I'm sure it was around here, you dolbo yeb.” Nimble hated working with those two, but they knew their way around Prypiat. He would need that skill if he had to gain items for his usual high-paying customers. Already Nimble was missing the Major, Major Degtyarev, in fact. He had been Nimble's favourite customer, always paying the price for every item he bought, and complimenting the work he went to for the locating of such great armours and weapons.
“No, I left a GPS signal device. Not much farther.” They were struggling through the debris of a toppled stone barracks near some train tracks, the area having been cordoned off by various factions as they attempted to lay claim to Pripyat. He sighed. Vano and Zulu were great men, but they tended to get on his nerves sometimes. Zulu had the habit of calling him a dumbass every time they got lost, while Vano, well, was Vano. He had the habit of finding the strangest items, yet they were always good finds, netting their little group enough rubles for their repair costs and modifications to their equipment.
“Well, it's not like the time you fell into the nest of khomyak, eh? You screamed for days every time we took you past a pipe!” Vano jogged up a large piece of debris, keeping his shotgun ready for any enemy to poke its ugly head from wherever they decided to strike. Nimble was about to reply with a witty retort when his Geiger counter went off the charts.
“Vano! Zulu! Emission! There's an emission coming!” Vano's face dropped its usual happy demeanour, while Zulu stood stone-faced. Nimble was wildly looking around, staring at various places for cover. A small shack in the distance was surrounded by metal pipes, various pieces of debris resting on top of it. Vano, standing behind him, shook his head in disbelief. Nimble, in his panic, grabbed Vano, shoving him towards the shack. “It'll have to do! Whatever you do, don't look out the door-” There was a large steel door that they could use for safety. “Nevermind! Zulu, get into the shack!” Zulu did not need any reminders as he charged towards the shack, waving his RP-74 from side to side, as if expecting some strange enemy to jump out and attack. Nimble was still dragging Vano, the smiling giant protesting greatly as Nimble, small, but quite strong for his size, half pushed and half threw the giant into the shack.
“Nimble, are we clear?”
“Yeah! Zulu, get in here!” Nimble could definitely hear the distant rumblings now. The emission was coming faster than before, something he had not expected. Within minutes, the emission was on top of them, major waves of energy dancing along the metal frame of the shack. Nimble had his fingers crossed, hoping for the best, while Zulu and Vano had broken out some stored Chechnya Vodka. Vano always had some on him wherever he went, no matter the circumstance. Nimble was wringing his hands, worry overtaking anything else he was feeling.
“Nimble! Calm down, you dolbo yeb. Have a drink!” Nimble tentatively took the bottle from Zulu, sipping it slightly. Within a few minutes, he was laughing and joking along with them. The rumbling continued, creatures and stalkers caught outside dying to the immense psionic wave created by the rift in the noosphere. Within an hour, the emission had subsided, leaving three very drunk stalkers stumbling out of a metal shack. Nimble stopped when his foot hit something soft, yet seemingly alive.
“Ey, parshiviy, syuda idi!” Nimble was on his knees after his shout, examining the strange create at his feet. Zulu stumbled over, his slurred speech barely recognizable. Vano was at least somewhat alive enough to notice that whatever it was, it was not something natural to the zone.
“'S alien.”
“Eh?”
“Dolbo yeb, 's alien.” Even Nimble's alcohol-addled brain could not deny what Vano was saying. There, in front of them, was a bona fide alien, at least, as far as their alcohol-riddled brains could comprehend. Zulu had already passed out, snoring on the ground. In Vano's pocket, something glowed, allowing him to straighten himself, although he seemed incredibly famished.
“No hangover. That's new.” He removed the artifact from his pocket, smiling. He had almost forgotten the Firefly artifact he kept close to him at all times. Quickest way to remove a hangover, although it made one more famished than a man who has not ingested sustenance for over a month. Quick healing was always an afterthought, although it was always nice to have. He was able to finally have a clear opinion when he stared down at the strange creature before him. With as much intelligence as his now-fatigued brain could muster, he reasoned he was looking at a creature of equine descent, although that was where the similarities ended. It was almost pristine, aside from some strange scarring above one of its eyes. It was an unnatural shade of purple. Its four hooves were shorter than expected, although it was of equine descent, which placed it somewhere similar to an old Shetland pony Nimble had once seen. Vano snatched the artifact out of Nimble's hands, allowing it to cleanse him as well.
“Govno. I'm hungry now.” He left Nimble to his observations while he rummaged around in the pockets of the unconscious Zulu, looking for any of those tough breakfast sausages that Zulu always had. Nimble looked down again, frowning. It had a horn, though what purpose it was for was beyond him, and it had wings. He stood up.
“Whatever this is, it's like pony. Beyond that, no fucking clue.” With Vano eating, and Zulu still unconscious, Nimble had no choice but to lift the flying horned pony, tucking it underneath his arm as Vano began an attempt at reviving Zulu. With no liquid around, Nimble turned away as he heard Vano's zipper. Almost at once, Vano was choking as a very angry Zulu sat up and began to strangle him. Nimble turned around to see the aftermath of a panicking Vano who had just pissed on Zulu's face.
“Mudak! You'll die for that!” Vano, in his more usually jovial way, pushed Zulu off of him before bolting away. The two idiots forgot about Nimble as they sprinted away, one intent on the murder of the other. Sighing, Nimble raised his radio to his ear.
“Hey, Zulu, Vano! We need to get back to our camp in Jupiter. Too far to Yanov at this rate.” Zulu stopped chasing Vano to stare at the creature that Nimble was holding, mouthing words and pointing. Nimble, in a state of curiosity, stared down. The pony was awake, mouth wide open, and it appeared in a state of utter shock. Setting her down, Nimble moved back, his hand on his roughshod AK-47. With a shake, it began to speak, but incredibly fast, too fast for any real creature to speak. With a single hand, Vano began to rub her head, calming her down quite quickly.
“Comrade, she is like all creatures, da? Just needs to be shown that we are not threatening.” With a more calm, but authoritative voice, she spoke to the group of three as if they themselves were subjugated by her. Zulu shrugged as Nimble and Vano glanced at him.
“Talking horse. Not that surprising.”
“Who are you? Why were you carrying me? What is this place-” Nimble put his hand on her head, quieting her down.
“Okay, whatever you are. First question, we're, well... what exactly are we? We're not really stalkers, are we?” At that word, the pony appeared to recoil, backing away. Zulu slapped his face in exasperation, walking forward. With his hand, he smacked Nimble as hard as he could, sending him rolling into some debris.
“Treat the poor thing with respect. We're scavengers, Nimble. Well, you are. Vano's here for... well, yebat' if I know.” A distant snarl set all three on alert. With quick motions, each one had their respective weapons readied; Zulu with his RP-74, Nimble with his AK-47, and Vano with his SPSA-12.
“Sounded like chimera. Bad, very bad.” Zulu and Vano sprinted away, Nimble quickly ducking down to grab the pony and flee after his comrades. Even though they were normally unafraid of the dangers of the Zone, a chimera was no laughing matter. Vano, in one of his more serious stories, told of him watching one tear a single Military squad to pieces. Even though he laughed at almost everything, Nimble understood what he was trying to hide, every single moment of pain. Zulu and Vano were the only two stalkers who would even listen to his crazy adventuring ideas for various items, since he no longer had any need to go out and locate rare weapons for profit. Many had asked, but he simply had given it up. The growls came closer, much louder than before.
“Yebat'! Keep running!” None of them had their weapons out as they continued to sprint, the fear, adrenaline, and self-preservation instinct of each one of them kicked into overdrive. With the pony in his arms, he was slowed down slightly, but not much. Zulu and Vano's faces were absolutely white, as Nimble supposed his was. They were not equipped to take on a chimera out in the open. Jupiter was their best bet, even though Psy Dogs had an unfortunate habit of randomly showing up inside every once in a while. A small camp had been set up by them a short while ago, when Zulu showed his face at Yanov, bleeding. A few days later, he was patched up, and mentioned he had lost his gun inside the Jupiter plant. The camp was set up, and it was always containing Psy Dogs every week. Ten of them in various areas, as if they just simply came into being.
“I can see Jupiter!” Vano was correct – the Jupiter plant was coming into view, and so was the cement pond, the acid pool anomaly, and the large metal doors they had just recently been able to move. If they could reach those doors in time, they could shut them and- Zulu and Vano were already standing by the doors, waiting for Nimble. Without a word, Nimble dived into the Jupiter plant, tossing the pony as he fell. The doors slammed shut, the growls incredibly close.
“Yebat'!” The chimera slammed into the door, knocking Zulu and Vano off with the sheer recoil. It hit a second time, knocking the door slightly open. It hit once more, allowing it to barely see inside. There was no light, and it had been since the emission, which reduced the visibility inside the plant. None of them moved as the chimera stared through, eventually turning and charging away. With a sigh, Nimble let out his breath, turning towards the purple pony. She was curled up in a ball on the ground, quaking in fear.
“No, this isn't happening... this isn't real... I'll wake up in my bed, and Celestia will be waiting to give me a hug.” Nimble shrugged, leaving her with Vano and Zulu while he started the campfire. Within a few minutes, the pony walked over, planting herself beside Nimble. Without a word, she leaned against him, sighing.
“So, malen'kaya loshadka, how are you holding up?” She turned to him, a questioning look on her face.
“What does 'mah-len-kai-ya lo-shad-kah' mean?” Nimble chuckled, to which she raised an eyebrow.
“No, no, is 'malen'kaya loshadka', uh... means little horse.” She nodded, saying the Russian word to herself. Within a few minutes, she had the word down pat, her mouth moving as she contemplated the word. The fire was small, but it put out enough heat for the group of four.
“I would say I'm unsure of where I am, what happened to me, and why it happened. Otherwise, I'm fine.” Zulu and Vano sat down at the fire, merely shrugging. The two of them began conversing, whispering as they talked. Nimble looked down at the pony, her frown directed at Vano.
“I would say, uh, Vano, is not best at comforting. He is better at pissing them off, or pissing on them. Well, we cannot call you malen'kaya loshadka all the time. You have a name?” The pony looked up at him, her face twisted in an expression of confusion. She seemed hesitant, which worried Nimble. Was she a part of some sort of government plot? He wondered if that was the case, but she had not given any indication that it was the truth.
“Uh... Twilight Sparkle.” Nimble shrugged, staring back at the fire. Vano was already heating up a can of beans for them all, their supplies having begun to run low. There were four bowls out, handmade by Zulu when he and Vano had gotten themselves trapped underneath a pile of sheet metal, and Zulu had to cut them out. His bowls were nothing more than metal cones that had been welded, but they were good for their purpose.
“Guess I'll call you Sparks. Sparks work?” Twilight appeared to agree with that. She shivered, shifting closer to the small fire. Zulu had begun to portion out the beans, filling up one bowl with a larger amount for the pony with them.
“Here. Beans are good to keep up strength.” Twilight stared at the beans until she grabbed the bowl with her hooves, tipping the bowl back like a cup and slurping the beans up as fast as she could. Vano was not paying attention, merely scooping out his beans slowly with one of the spoons they had pulled from a bandit.
“Sparks must have been hungry, eh? Guess I'll use another can.” Zulu placed another one of his cans of beans on the fire, the beans boiling again in no time. The second can, however, was more evenly distributed, although Sparks still sucked the beans down as if it were her last meal. Smacking her lips, she smiled at the group as she returned the bowl to Zulu's care.
“Thank you. Whatever that is, it tastes great.” Nimble, Zulu, and Vano paused for a second, bursting out laughing at Twilight's statement. She pouted, shivering once more. Staring at the ground, she nearly jumped when a jacket was placed on her back.
“This meal, it's called 'Beans in tomato sauce.' Hard to find, but we found store. Cans still good.” Zulu smiled at the memory of the store. As soon as the Bandits moved through Pripyat, he and Nimble had raided a store, one that still had rows of canned beans on the shelves. None were radioactive, a big plus for the beleaguered stalkers. As they continued to discuss their plans, Vano looked at Sparks, smiling.
“That jacket, belonged to good man. His name was Snag. Good man, shitty liar. Tried scamming Nimble, got a bullet in head.” He made the motion, although Sparks had no particular idea of what he meant. Shaking his head, he watched as she slowly put the jacket on, the leather holding tight against her, as if it was made perfectly for her. She grimaced when she could not get it over her wings. Zulu stopped talking long enough to notice, removing a knife from his belt.
“Stay still. I have idea.” With two quick slashes, two slits were cut in the back, allowing her wings free reign. “Better mobility, but jacket won't stop pistol. Looks good, though.” Laughing, they continued to discuss plans as Sparks trotted around, getting a feel for the jacket. It was not comfortable so much as it was convenient. It did not appear that any of them had other clothing, and she was definitely chilled. Returning to the fire, she plopped down, falling quickly asleep. Nimble smiled as he watched her sleeping.
“Vano, first watch. Zulu has third watch.” With that, they nodded. The light outside had begun to dim, and they would have to be very careful. Mutants often were attracted to the smell of cooking beans, as the smell was more potent than the smell of unwashed stalker. Vano clambered up onto a metal platform, having switched his favourite shotgun for another weapon he had stashed up there. With a click, the bolt on his SVD Dragunov slid into place, first watch starting. A chilling breeze blew through the plant. It was going to be a long night.
Nimble stood with Vano and Zulu as they stared at the building in front of them, Vano shaking his head once again.
“No, we're not going in there.” Vano was not as happy as the other three had expected. It had been two days of slow movement, partially due to Sparks inspecting every new thing she came across. Nimble sighed. Zulu's expression seemed to indicate that he shared his exasperation. Sparks was like a small child who had never been told about a toy store, and was suddenly taken to one.
“Vano, we need supplies, and as much as you think we don't, having better equipment for Sparks is good.” Nimble motioned to the pack on his back, Sparks merely smiling at it. She had spent the better parts of two hours during their trek and secured a backpack full of artifacts. Zulu was almost in shock, but they were low on funds, and it was a welcome sight.
“Yes, Sparks is good artifact hunter. Good for cash. Hawaiian will be happy.” Vano sighed, resigning himself to their little stop. Zulu opened the side door, motioning for Vano and Nimble to enter quickly. After they had entered, Zulu stood outside, watching Sparks as she examined a small piece of metal covered with scratch marks. Shouting and gunfire alerted him to Vano and Nimble running into trouble inside. Cursing himself silently, he drew a Fort-12, holding it out to Sparks.
“I watched your lifting with the horn. Those dolbo yeb, they got in trouble. Take this, shoot anything that's not us.” He set the pistol down beside her, leaving her to her own devices. Lifting his RP-74, he cocked back the action, clearing a jammed empty shell. Sparks stared up at him, fear clearly showing.
“Please don't leave me-” Zulu had already left to enter the station. “-alone?” Glancing around, small noises became large noises as she became fearful without the scavengers.
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Inside, things were not going as well as they would have hoped. Nimble and Vano had stacked up crates and metal pieces, anything they could use as cover, and were shooting over it as strange, humanoid mutants with tentacles inside of their mouths charged. Some became transparent, only their glowing eyes visible.
“Fuck! Kill the bitches!” Zulu set up his RP-74, clearing an area around him for firing. Nimble and Vano cursed, their weapons jamming.
“Zulu! Fire now!” With a loud report, the support machine gun tore through the mutants, many barely even reacting before they were corpses on the floor. Vano and Nimble had taken cover near the entrance to the room Zulu was now in, cowering and clearing their weapons of jams.
“Shit! Shell got jammed!” Gunfire from outside prompted Nimble to sprint outside, watching Sparks fire at a random area far off in the distance. He noticed the floating Fort-12, snatching it from the field she had it in.
“Who the fuck gave you handgun, hmm? Vano, or Zulu?” Sparks shrank away, her ears flat against her head. Nimble sighed, kneeling down in front of her. He held up the handgun, motioning for her to take it. “This is not child's toy, Sparks. This is weapon, deadly. Do not shoot unless you intend to kill target.” Her eyes grew wide as Nimble explained, a tear springing to her eye as he let the handgun drop.
“You... you kill others? Why would you do that?! Killing is-” Nimble held up his hand, a finger raised to his lips.
“Quiet.” He looked around, keeping his eyes peeled. “We're not killing others. They... were people. Maybe. But mutants in there now.” He looked up as Zulu and Vano left the structure, blood covering their hands.
“Did you see that? Bloodsuckers! There was thirty, no, forty!” Zulu tossed a body in front of Sparks as a little demonstration. She backed up quickly, stepping away from the blood that still poured from the mouth of the mutant.
“That's-”
“Bloodsucker. Very nasty creatures. They kill without mercy.” Zulu stomped on the head, crushing the skull underneat his foot, Sparks backing quickly away before the spurt hit her. A thin line of red trickled down her nose as her eyes went wide, the realization quickly striking her.
“No! No no no no no no-” Zulu held her muzzle shut before setting down his RP-74, grabbing the Fort-12 from Sparks. Aiming it around, he sighed, shaking his head. Nimble noticed Zulu's behaviour, bringing his AK-47 to bear. Something about the whole situation felt incredibly off, Vano feeling it as well.
“Shh. Do you hear that?” Zulu inquired of the others, aiming the pistol at where he assumed the sound to be coming from. A rather bulbous form shambled out over the nearby hill, raising a single hand. Vano let out a howl as he lifted his hands to his head, Nimble and Zulu following suit. Sparks glanced around wildly, looking at the mutant directly above them. Vano still had his Dragunov strapped to his back, while Nimble had dropped his AK. Focusing with her horn, she undid the strapping on the Dragunov, remembering watching how Vano primed the chamber, and how he reloaded.
“They aren't alive. They're only mutants,” she quietly and constantly reminded herself as she cocked the Dragunov, taking aim at the mutant. “They're not alive, they're only mutants. Only mutants.” With a single pull of the trigger, the chambered 7.62x54mm round blasted out of the barrel towards the mutant, the red spray flying out through the small hole in its forehead. Zulu stood up, pointing his pistol at the mutant.
“Controller! Wait – did malen'kaya loshadka kill it?” Vano and Nimble stood still for a minute, Vano checking his back for the reason of why it felt so light. Sparks shakily got to her hooves, stumbling a little bit. Her eyes unfocused, her face turning a light shade of green before her mouth twisted in a grimace of pain. With a heave, the contents of her stomach splashed all over Zulu's boots. He patted her on the head, moving it back and forth until she stopped breathing heavily. Vano knelt down next to her, holding up a torn piece of cloth to her face, while Nimble kept his distance, watching for any other mutants that might have been attracted by the rifle's shot.
“Vano, Zulu. We're close to Yanov, da?” Zulu silently nodded in Nimble's direction, while Vano continued to wipe off Sparks' face. She looked at the three of them, her face twisting into a fascimile of a smile, only a ghost of what it should be, but they could tell she felt incredibly uneasy about what she had just done.
“Yanov is best bet for now, Nimble. Duty or Freedom, it does not matter. We need rest, and good food.” Nodding to each other, Zulu and Vano walked ahead of Nimble and Sparks, letting the two of them talk, though, for the longest part of the walk, Sparks refused to look at any of them, instead intent on staring at the ground directly beneath her hooves. Nimble rubbed the back of his head, sighing as he glanced off into the distance.
“How are you all so friendly!? You kill each other, apparently all the time, and yet, you three still remain friends!” Sparks shouted at Nimble, startling him into backpedaling away. Sighing, she turned back to the ground, lowering her head as Nimble retook his position.
“Is, well, hard to really explain. Vano, he is asshole sometimes, but he has big heart. Too trusting sometimes, but he pulled this dolbo yeb out of lot of fight.
Zulu, though? He rescued Vano and myself. Without him, I would be dead. We stay friends because, well, we have no one else,” Nimble stated, looking around as he kept his hand close to his Kalashnikov, worry overtaking his face as they approached railroad tracks. A few groups of fellow Zone dwellers passed by, each member muttering a simple, polite greeting in passing. As they moved among the irradiated carcasses of former trains, Sparks shrank away as she felt the unnatural warmth of the radiation leeching off of the metal.
Ahead loomed the train station, a massive concrete and brick structure that had stood the test of time as much as one would expect from a several-decade-old structure. As soon as Vano put his hand on the door, the doors swung open quickly, two men staggering out and laughing as they grabbed Vano and Zulu, bringing them up in grand hugs and laughter.
“Vano, you piece of shit! How are you?”
“Cardan! Nitro! You two are sight for sore eyes!”
The two men broke the embrace with Vano and Zulu, motioning for Nimble to follow, only stopping when they noticed Sparks. Cardan smiled as he moved towards her, squatting down as Nitro took Vano and Zulu inside. Nimble tensed up as Cardan placed his hand on her head, only easing up when all he did was scratch behind her ears. Sparks smiled, closing her eyes as she moved her head towards the welcome touch.
“Well, man! Introduce me to your friend, dumbass!” Cardan got out before he started chuckling, pulling out a clean rag to wipe off the small amount of blood that still remained on her face.
“My name is Twilight Sparkle.”
“Cardan, one of best technician in the Zone,” He replied, keeping his response short and simple. “Hey, odd question. Where is Strider?” Nimble closed his mouth as Cardan froze, fear evident on his face.
“He... he never came back. He just up and left, and never returned.” Cardan held a pistol out in his hand, looking away from Nimble as the Stalker took the weapon, sighting it as he held it.
“His Black Kite. Good handgun. Sparks, come here.” The unicorn plodded closer, her eye wandering over the gun before she focused, lifting the pistol quickly from Cardan's outstretched hand. She pulled it away quickly, preventing Cardan from retrieving it. Sighing, Cardan resigned himself to drinking out of a small metal bottle, screwing the cap on when he was done.
“Cardan, I thought you stopped drinking that der'mo,” Nimble stated before Cardan held up a hand, silencing the Stalker.
“Purified water. Nitro got water filtration ready in basement. Good water,” Cardan responded, taking a long drink before capping the bottle. “Got to stay healthy, eh?”
Nimble chuckled as he led Sparks inside, guiding her as she moved around the tables, the other Stalkers stopping their conversations and staring as they watched the jacket-clad pony skirting around their legs. The members of Duty and Freedom kept their fingers on their triggers, remembering their agreement to share the train depot, though a lot of them would have preferred it to belong to their specific side. Cardan hummed as he walked behind them, stopping to chat with some of the other Stalkers. As Nimble approached a stairwell, Sparks could hear laughter emanating from the basement, with a rather boisterous voice dominating the rest.
“No, no! The Major, he help kill mercs! Lousy shot, but he help out lots.” Nimble smiled, walking down the stairs as the figure came into view.
“Now, now- what piece of shit did cat drag in? Nimble?!” The man stood up, running over to Nimble and drawing him up into a bear hug, squeezing him.
“Uncle Yar, Uncle Yar! Let go! Is hurting me!” The man, identified as Uncle Yar, patted Nimble on the back.
“So, the Zone still fucking hates you. Good to know.”
“I'd say it hates you more, but we'd have to ask the mercs about it!” With a loud laugh, they all howled as Sparks backed away, her ears flat against her head. Cardan knelt down beside her, rubbing behind her ears.
“Is okay. Nimble and Yar, they like brother. Very close.” Cardan pulled a photo out of his pocket, looking at the faded and crumpled picture with a smile. Nitro and Cardan had arms around each other's shoulders, while Vano glared at the both of them. Nimble and Yar were giving a thumbs up to the photographer, while Zulu stood off to the side with Cardan and Strider.
“Were you all close?”
“Like brother. With Strider gone, is not easy to remind self that bright day come soon.” Sparks stood up, looking right at Uncle Yar with a determined look on her face. Cardan backed away, unsure of what was going on.
“So, Uncle Yar!”
“Ah, our newest arrival! Nimble was telling me you shoot good. Killed Controller. So-”
“You sit here laughing while your friend Strider is missing? Cardan says you were all like brothers! Why are you sitting here-” Nimble stepped forward to try to shut her up when Yar held his hand in front of him, silencing his rebuttal.
“We looked, little one. Strider leaves, comes, he decides. He is free to choose.” Sparks looked down at the floor, gritting her teeth. Tears ran down her face as she started to cry.
“You've got a friend missing who you can look for! I can't ever see my friends again!” Yar looked at Nimble, who shrugged.
“She never talked about friend. She kept quiet most of time. This is new.” Yar was about to respond when another Stalker came running down the stairs towards them.
“Uncle Yar! Come quickly!”
“Garry? But what-”
“Strider's back, and he's badly injured!” Nimble, Yar, and Cardan looked at each other, nodded silently, and took to the stairs, moving quickly as to see to their friend. Sparks followed, the first thing noticed being the blood. A man in heavy armor coloured with white and grey sat on the floor, punctures through his armor in several places, along with a gash across his face.
“Strider-” Several Stalkers moved aside to let a single one through carrying medical supplies.
“Bonesetter, good thing you're here. He is hurt-”
“Get out of way, now.” All of them immediately agreed, stepping back. He ran his hands over the wounds, tensing his jaw when he saw the bullet barely peeking out of one of the wounds.
“Good news. I can help him, but he was shot with Dragunov. Modified, too.” Nimble looked over to Vano and Zulu, who both nodded. Sparks watched as they split off from the group, whispering to each other.
“Can't be Monolith. Most are dead. Mercs, maybe.” One of the men in the crowd, wearing faded camouflage armor, placed his mug on the table, sighing as he took a seat in an available chair.
“Ukrainian Security Service members. Most likely to take out Stalker encampment, like Yanov.”
“Kovalsky? But we thought-”
“Discharged from military. They tried to pin blame on me. I was discharged, I came here. I can guide you to area where USS soldiers could be, but it will cost you.” He leaned in closer, a smile crossing his face.
“I want to gut bastard responsible for hurting Strider.” The other three nodded, looking over at Sparks.
“I know you don't agree with method, but Strider is friend, and that is matter of slava, honor between Stalkers.”
Sparks looked down, staring at the Black Kite held aloft in front of her. Anger welled up inside her as she began to understand just what the Zone did to them. With her jaw set and a dark expression crossing her face, she lifted the pistol, pulling the slide back.
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...
Nimble woke to Twilight's wing slightly slapping him in the face. With a wave of his hand, he attempted to move it from his nose, but to no avail. Sighing, he leaned back, looking directly up at Vano, the Stalker looking down at him with a large smile across his face. Zulu was up talking with Hatchet and his crew, while Kovalsky sat in the corner, writing in a small notebook. Smiling, Nimble shifted himself as best he could from under Twilight's wing without waking her.
“Anything you want to say, Vano? Anything?” Nimble's serious tone took Vano by surprise, before he dropped his own carefree smile. He looked back at Hatchet and Zulu, frowning.
“While Hatchet has good reputation, I do not trust him, Nimble.” Nimble looked down at the ground, biting his lip as he coughed, the dust causing a cloud to slightly spray from his face covering. He looked over Vano's shoulder at Hatchet, who was staring out at the wilderness around Jupiter. He seemed rather distant, though it could have been because two of his squad members had not returned yet from a scouting trip.
“While I would be with you, Hatchet is friend to Twilight, and I do not want to betray trust of hers.” Nimble walked away from Vano, who huffed as he walked in the opposite direction, taking a seat beside Zulu. Nimble stood beside Sparks, rubbing her back as she chattered at him about random knowledge.
“They're close, Vano.”
“What's that, Zulu?”
“Sparks and Nimble, they're close. Like brother and sister. You do know about Nimble's past, right?” Vano could only stare at the big man sitting beside him as he spoke, his mouth hanging open in shock as Zulu drank quietly from a bottle of Checnya Vodka. Vano watched as Nimble pointed towards the door, Sparks smiling as he led her towards the outside, his hand on his gun as a precaution. With a sneer, Vano looked away, staring down at the ground.
--------==|0|==--------
Nimble led Sparks outside, smiling under his mask as he pulled a chair behind him, spinning it around so he could sit down, staring up at the sun that filtered down through the clouds above. Pointing up, he waved his hand.
“That's where I want to go someday, Sparks. Up into the sky, fly with the birds. You can already, da, but is good to dream. Is good to dream of brighter days.”
“Why not stop dreaming and do something about it?” Nimble choked for a minute, looking dead into Sparks' eyes. Her determined expression told him everything he needed to know.
“... you still want to go home. To your friends, your family.” Sparks silently nodded as Nimble shook his head, sighing. Pulling the mask down from his face, he let the scars that marked his face show to her, the white lines criss-crossing like a roadmap of pain.
“This. This is my penalty for trying to protect my family, Sparks. Russian government comes, kills them, leaves me for dead. I run here, to Zone,” he motioned with his fingers, not smiling the entire time, “and hide from the Spetsnaz and the Ukraine Security Service. I find friends here, but they are idiots.” With that, he lifted his mask, sitting back as he stared up at the slowly moving clouds. Sparks looked down at her hooves, biting her lip.
“Nimble, can I ask you something?”
“Da, what is it?”
“If there was a way to go to my world, to get back to it, would you come with me?” Nimble coughed, pulling down his mask to spit out a wad of mud before he choked on it.
“Moya malen'kaya-”
“No, Nimble. No more 'malen'kaya loshadka.' I am a STALKER just like you. Maybe not the robber part, but I am like rest of you, comrade!” She stomped her hoof, staring up into the man's face before she stopped. Quiet filled their small area until Nimble started chuckling. With his left hand, he rubbed the top of her head, his eyes softening as a tear fell from them.
“You remind me of moya malen'kaya sestra, my little sister, da? She was always, how you say, 'indignant.' Spetznas took her from me.” Sparks looked away, her determined expression failing in the weight of Nimble's statement, his steely gaze weathering her own hardened stare.
“But why?”
“Is problem in this world. Men who want power, and do all to keep it. I have no home for want of freedom.” Stopping for a moment, he lifted his PDA, staring down at the signal wavelength. Shaking his head, he ran back inside Jupiter, leaving Sparks to ponder his words.
--------==|0|==--------
Vano and Zulu straightened up when Nimble sprinted into Jupiter, mirth in his voice as he shouted.
“Degtyarev! Degtyarev! The Major, he is here!” Vano, Zulu, the mercenaries, and Kovalsky all stood at once, their eyes collectively going wide as Nimble jumped and whooped, dancing around in happiness.
“Nimble, calm down! Where is Major?”
“Right here, comrades. Is been long time, Vano, Zulu, Nimble.” The man that entered could only be described as determined, confident, and tough, considering the impossibility of his survival most of the time. Vano, Zulu and Nimble rushed him all at once, squeezing into a massive bear hug that he returned in kind.
“Major-”
“Is Colonel now. I am USS permanent observer. I stay in Zone indefinitely.” Nimble stopped for a minute, sighing as he patted Degtyarev's shoulder. Hatchet started laughing, looking at Degtyarev straight in the eyes.
“You damn yebat'! You had us going!” Hoofsteps behind the Colonel had him sweep around to come face-to-face with Strider's Black Kite. Sparks stared him down, his AKS-74 drawn quickly and aimed like a trained marksman.
“Well, comrade, it is good to see you too. Why is there horse pointing gun at me?” Nimble placed his hand slowly on Sparks' back, helping her calm down. The Black Kite floated back into her holster, her eyes darting between her friends and Degtyarev.
“Sorry we got off on wrong hoof. Russian is... hard to understand.” She sheepishly slid closer to Nimble, who made sure to put himself more between Degtyarev and herself. His hand was on his sidearm, a SIP-t M200 modified with a laser sight. He lowered his hand as Nimble kept his hand near his own AK, his brow furrowing as he watched the others around aiming their weapons not at the Colonel, but at him.
“Colonel Degtyarev, this is mistake. Everyone, just calm down, have vodka! Come, eh?” Vano was the one Nimble least expected to defuse the situation, but a gunfight was unwelcome; it would tear right through his good armor, and likely also kill Sparks. Nimble walked over, before Zulu pointed him towards the door.
“Go outside for now, comrade. We'll talk later.”
--------==|0|==--------
Nimble sat once more outside, looking at the plants around him. Ever since the Colonel had escaped the Zone, larger areas of it had become gradually more green, more vibrant. That brought with it a host of problems with dangerous mutants wandering into the newly revived glades, only to get cut down by machine gun fire from an RP-74. Sparks looked up at the clouds, frowning as she strained to listen in on their conversation.
“... controller... Strider... Nimble... liability.” She spat on the ground, frustrated at the lack of information. Nimble rubbed her head, running his other hand up a creeper vine that had begun climbing up the side of Jupiter in recent months. With a frown, he tried to listen in, hearing his name come up multiple times. Zulu stepped out, clearly agitated by whatever had been discussed. He sat down beside Nimble, frowning as he looked his friend in the eyes.
“Nimble, we have some very bad news.”
“Bad enough that Degtyarev wants me gone?”
“'I fought a controller the other day. Strider helped me with some of Nimble's equipment. However, Kovalsky may be a liability.' That good enough for you?” Nimble sat there, stunned. He had known Kovalsky for a while, and had never known him to be anything close to a 'liability.' Nimble was about to retort when bullets rang out from inside. Their eyes widening, they hurried inside, Sparks with her Black Kite, Zulu with his RP-74, and Nimble with his AK. Hatchet and Kovalsky lay bleeding on the ground, while Degtyarev and Vano knelt down before a man neither of them had ever wanted to see, and a man whom Nimble was well versed in dealings with, knowing how evil the man truly was. Bandits stepped over the dead bodies of Hatchet's men, while another picked up Kovalsky's rifle. Their leader removed his hood, smiling as he stared Nimble straight in the eye.
The blood in Nimble's veins turned to ice as he saw the worst businessman in the world capture his friends as he stood there, the handcuffs cutting into his wrists as he barely heard a thing. Dragged slowly, he could only watch as Sparks was shot in the hooves, leaving her behind as he was dragged off. Before they could really get him out, though, Nimble ducked, slamming his head into the leader's stomach. With a kick, he backed up, scooping up Sparks as best he could in his current condition. Running for the door, he could only hear the high-pitched whizzing of shells flying past, Sparks lying in his arms bleeding. He continued to run, ignoring the burning of his legs, or the pain in his dry throat.
Nimble continued to run, no stopping, no destination, just running as he tried to keep Sparks from experiencing any undue jostling due to carelessness. With a single rock, he was tumbling, using his body to protect hers as he fell, sliding in the mud. His breathing was laboured, his vision blurry as it began to fade to black, the realm of the unconscious overtaking his own mental faculties.
--------==|0|==--------
Zulu awoke, having found himself outside of Jupiter and rather worse for wear from what he could discern as a grenade blast, the shock tossing him from inside Jupiter. Degtyarev and Vano were nowhere to be seen, although the bodies of Hatchet and Kovalsky lay on the floor, clearly dead. Nimble was gone, though Zulu could have sworn he heard his voice.
“Zulu, budit' yebut! Come on!” Zulu sat up, looking at the shuddering form of Sparks in Nimble's arms, his blood boiling as he looked back in at Hatchet and Kovalsky.
“Nimble, you know this means blood be spilled for honor, da?” Nimble silently nodded, walking over to Hatchet. Dropping his AK, he slowly slipped his fingers around the grip for Hatchet's Trs 301, a relatively powerful weapon in the Zone.
“Blood will be spilled, Zulu. Vano and Degtyarev will be free.”
Sparks groaned from her place on Zulu's back, Nimble's hand slinking back from touching her. He was angry, too angry to speak. After Zulu had broken the handcuffs on his wrists, he had spat on the ground, standing up and staring him straight in the eye.
“Zulu, you know what has to be done.” Zulu had grimly nodded, looking down at the ground.
Staring over his shoulder at Sparks, he watched her slumber fitfully, deciding to sit down and let her rest.
“They shot her in forehooves. Nimble, you always say you have cache somewhere with army medkit. Tell me, where is it?” Nimble pointed at a somewhat visible structure not far from their position, overlooking an underground entrance area. Zulu drew out a bottle of vodka, holding it to Sparks' lips. As she drank, mostly out of a dire need to numb some of the pain she felt, Nimble sighed, taking a deep breath. Zulu cut him off before he could say anything.
“I know you care, Nimble.”
“She is our responsibility, Zulu. She... she is like a sister. A sister I never have.” Nimble brought his knees up to his chest, hugging them as he sat on a rock. Looking around, he noticed a couple familiar faces in the distance. With a jump, he stood at the ready, his face a sudden mask of stone, no emotion present. His AK's bolt slid into position, chambering the first round. Zulu held up his hand, looking at the two approaching them.
“Sit down, Nimble. Is Snag and Uncle Yar.” Nimble set down his rifle, clicking the safety back on, sighing as he looked away from the approaching Stalkers.
“Privet, comrades! What- where is Vano?” Zulu held a finger to his lips, pointing at Sparks' front hooves. Yar almost charged before Snag held him back.
“Look, bro. We heard what happen. Sultan and his men, they brag about deed back to Skadovsk. Claim to be untouchable.” Nimble stood up, fishing something out of his pocket. Turning to face them, he held up a shiny key.
“I have plan for that.”
--------==|0|==--------
They stood in front of the structure, Yar cradling Sparks in his arms as she continued to sleep, the vodka having the desired effect. Nimble and Snag stood inside while Nimble fiddled with a padlock.
“I found cache one year ago. Is filled with, well, see for yourself.” He stood aside, watching as Snag dropped his rifle, scrambling in to heft the heavy weapon atop his shoulder.
“A working RPG-7? You kept locked up from us?” Nimble shrugged, tossing the lock and key aside. He entered, hefting an AC-96/2, a significant increase over his old AK. He grabbed another, tossing it to Yar, who strapped it to his back. He scrambled around in behind some crates, lifting a SVDm Dragunov as well, handing that off to the best sniper in the zone. Everyone could feel Snag's smile as they loaded up with their weapons. Snag had often bragged about finding a working RPG, but when he hefted that weapon, the giddiness was evident in his body language. Yar was impressed by the weapons, choosing the Dragunov over the AC-96/2.
“While I enjoy good weapon like Obokan, range is better. Besides, Dragunov is better suited to me, eh?” Nimble chuckled, clicking a GP-25 launcher to the underbarrel rail while sliding a PSO-1 scope to the top rail. Drawing the bolt back, he stopped laughing, growling as he looked outside. Zulu put his hand on Nimble's shoulder, sighing as he joined him by the front door.
“We will get them back, Nimble. Vano is friend, as is the Colonel.”
--------==|0|==--------
Stepping into Yanov, the four Stalkers surprised everyone with how heavily armed they were. Nitro stepped up to say something, closing his mouth before he said anything. Nimble stopped in front of him, frowning.
“Go get General Voronin. And you, Trapper! Go get Loki. We have things to discuss.” Nimble sat down at a vacated table, Snag, Zulu and Yar taking the other three chairs. Zulu looked around, the Loners around them – Stalkers not belonging to any 'faction' – eyeing them nervously.
“We are not here for trouble. Trouble found us, and she paid price.” He motioned to Sparks, who was sitting on his back, snoring soundly. The silence was deafening, broken only by the cocking of a rather large shotgun. Zulu turned to come face-to-face with Cardan, who bore a mask of rage.
“Sultan-”
“Is a problem, yes, Cardan. You, and you, bring these tables together. Bring everyone together that is in Yanov. We have discussion to make.”
--------==|0|==--------
Snag, Zulu, Nimble and Yar sat across from the leaders of Duty and Freedom, General Voronin and Loki respectively. Loki spoke first, raising an eyebrow at his compatriot.
“So, what you say is, Sultan attacked, trying to steal malen'kaya loshadka, took Vano and the Colonel, and shot her-” Loki had to put his hand up to push Cardan's gun barrel away from the table, as it was venturing dangerously close. Voronin decided to continue the dialogue with the four Stalkers in front of him, frowning.
“-and you want help from both factions to mount offensive to stop Sultan and his men, da?” Zulu sighed, looking at Nimble.
“Yes. They killed Hatchet and Kovalsky.” At the mention of the mercenary's name, Loki stood up, a pistol almost appearing in his hand. Voronin, while he was almost as quick to react, kept himself collected, pushing Loki back down in a chair. Loners and members of both Duty and Freedom watched as they continued to converse, discussing amongst themselves. Nitro and Cardan looked ready to break down a fortress wall with the amount of tangible anger in the air. Nimble set down Hatchet's Trs 301 on the table, pushing it towards the other two. Voronin swallowed, looking up at Nimble.
“H-how many-”
“All of Hatchet's men, dead.” Voronin swallowed again, desperately trying to maintain composure. He looked atLoki, who nodded in response. They both stood up, looking at their respective factions, Cardan moving over to the side of the four Stalkers.
“They will ask if any Stalkers want to help you. They cannot commit resources they do not have, comrades.” Snag sighed, looking back at Cardan.
“You are really not helpful right now, comrade. Why not stick to guns-” Cardan hefted his Eliminator shotgun, smiling.
“A gift. From the Colonel. I call it 'Big Bertha.'” Yar chuckled as Loki and Voronin returned. Two Stalkers stood behind them, flanking them with their IL-86 rifles at the ready.
“We cannot send massive force now, but these two, and Cardan behind you, want to help. This is Trapper-”
“W are familiar with them, General. Loki, Voronin, spasibo. The Skadosvk awaits us-” A Stalker stumbled into the station, causing everyone present to level their rifles, and Snag to level his launcher. The sudden smell of urine hit everyone as they realized the Stalker had just pissed himself. He held up his hands, revealing himself to be woefully unarmed.
“S-sorry comrades, I did not mean- my name is Aravich! Borya Aravich! T-there are Bandits outside, and they are asking-” Snag stood up, smiling as he removed his mask, showing the scars up and down one side of his face, Nimble revealing the patchwork scars on his face as well. Zulu stood, cocking back the RP-74's bolt, smiling though his eyes glowed with anger. Uncle Yar simply leaned back in his chair, using his pinkie finger to clean out his ear before looking directly at Aravich.
“For us. Well, General, Loki, we will deal with bandit scum. Do svidanya!” With that, the four stalkers stood, Cardan, Trapper and Nitro in formation behind them. Two Loners opened the doors for them, letting them see the large force arrayed before them. Nimble gripped his new weapon tightly, looking for anything that would indicate anything that they wanted. A laughing bandit forced his way to the front, tossing a bloody appendage at their feet.
“Sultan sends his regards! If you want rest of Vano, you come to Skadosvk-” At that point, Sparks had woken up, and the hangover had hit her hard. Combined with the fact that she had just witnessed those bandits toss the bloody amputated hand of one of her friends at the feet of Zulu and the others around them, it was enough. Her eyes began to glow white as she floated off of Zulu's back, the other Stalkers backing up quickly while Zulu hit the deck. The bandits were rather confused as to what was happening, although, it only lasted until they reached for their weapons. With the cocking of twenty slides and bolts, Sparks stood in front of them, her horn flaring in a massive spike of energy.
“You kill Kovalsky and Hatchet, good men! You take Vano and Degtyarev, good men! You want to take them too?” She motioned to the Stalkers behind her, the ones just beginning to recover what little sanity they could acquire from what they were witnessing.
“You are not good men.” With the click of twenty levers, ammunition dropped from weapons, clattering to the ground. Nimble ran up as she levitated the magazines and shells to herself, piling them up in an aggressively organized fashion next to her. The bandits fell to their knees as Nimble stood, dumbstruck as to what just happened.
“Sparks!? Why did you not-”
“Waste of good ammunition, comrade. Besides, look at ground.” Her horn was still flared, the pins of grenades on every bandit glowing in that effervescent field. He frowned, pulling a pistol from a Duty member who had walked out. With a single shot, he blew the firing pin on one grenade, causing Sparks to jump, jerking the pins on the rest. Turning around, she looked on as the bandit force twenty strong was reduced to strips of bleeding meat on the ground, little remaining of what they were. She sat there, falling to her haunches as she stared at the carnage.
“Only good bandit is dead bandit, Sparks. Especially Sultan's men. Cardan, Trapper, Nitro! We move out in morning! Next stop, Skadosvk!” Sparks let the bile hit her throat, spewing out onto the ground as Zulu patted her back. She spat, looking up at her friend with tear-filled eyes.
“W-why would he do that, Zulu?”
“Nimble is angry. Vano is longtime friend, and Sultan is longtime enemy of Stalkers. He tried to take over Skadosvk before, but Degtyarev, he stopped him. Sultan looks for other way to take Skadovsk. Good men may be-”
“Dead?” Nimble looked at Sparks, his eyebrow raising as he watched her face twist into an expression of fury, pure and simple. He sighed, looking ahead, his expression softening. Turning back, he walked up, putting his hand on her head, her eyes still burning with the rage he himself still felt. Aravich slowly approached, sighing as he looked over the mess in front of them. Whistling, he looked back at the trio, Zulu’s face hardening as he stared at Aravich, the unspoken tension in the air almost tangible in its fury. Aravich sighed, kneeling down and poking a piece of bandit with his knife.
“Not dead. Sultan is smarter than that. He will wait for us.” Nimble stepped forward, hauling Aravich to his feet.
“And how do you know this, comrade?” Aravich smiled, before pulling apart his jacket, revealing his chest, and the scars running down his visible ribs.
“He like torture, too much. But me? Oh, smarter. Much smarter. I know Skadovsk inside and out. Best part, though?” Nimble looked him up and down, trying to size him up. Aravich shrugged, pointing in the distance.
“To the west, there is military outpost. Maybe vehicle still functioning there, maybe not. But if we find vehicle, we take it, and we get your friends.” Reaching into his pocket, Aravich removed a map, pointing to several locations throughout the area.
“These are outpost. Military. We arm Stalkers.”
“Why, Borya? Why we need more Stalkers?” Aravich sighed, looking away for a minute.
“Sultan has gathered bandit army. Bandit not like working with other bandit, but they... cooperate, with promise of loot from corpse of Stalker. But we will not give chance to bandit scum.” With his knife, he stabbed the map, aiming right at the Skadovsk. Nimble nodded, looking back at Zulu.
