Prologue - A Roadside Picnic
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.”
.:LOG 1:. - The Day the Sky Fell
.:LOG 1:. The Day the Sky Fell
- SEVEN YEARS AGO, YANOV REGION -
“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.
