Stars Below

Maksim led me past a collection of crudely constructed "houses", though to call them such a thing was being quite generous. They were assembled from scrap wood and sheets of thin metal, some of them even using repurposed sections of train cars. They were ugly and unsafe, and yet... I found myself appreciating them. For a people who had nothing left, forced to scavenge the remains of this underground railway, they had found a way to carry on.

More people stared at us as we walked toward the storeroom, drawn out of their tiny homes and away from whatever chores they were doing to see the source of my hooves' unique clip-clop sounds. Maksim kept glancing back at me and grinning, evidently catching on to the fact that I didn't enjoy the attention. Nonetheless, he was silent until we came to a metal door. It looked fairly unassuming - covered in flaking green paint that revealed a layer of rust underneath - and was set into a dirty concrete wall.

"Here it is," he said, tugging the door open. "Go on inside, I'm right behind you."

"My thanks," I replied, lowering my head to him in gratitude. Maksim just stepped aside, letting me poke my head into the storage room first. It was poorly lit and stacked high with wooden crates, creating something of a claustrophobic environment (or even more of one than the station already was) that made me uneasy. Still, I knew my discomfort was irrational, and that I had nothing to fear here. I pressed on, stepping inside and lowering my head to ensure that my horn cleared the doorframe.

Glancing around, my vision was just beginning to adjust to the dim when Maksim blinded me. He flipped a light switch and turned on a lone overhead light - it was weak and flickering, but it hurt my eyes all the same. Once I recovered, and after I took a moment to scowl at him and his smug face, I noticed some equipment was laid out for easy access. I stepped away from the door to give Maksim room to enter behind me, then eyed everything in plain view. "So... what, specifically, will I need? You listed off several items, but I doubt they are all I will want to take with me."

"Right you are. Aside from a rifle and some ammo, we're going to try and find you enough gear to have a sort of... soldier's kit. The necessities." Maksim paused, bending down with a grunt and picking up a flashlight. "Like one of these! The lighter is better than nothing, but you don't want to go stumbling around in a tunnel with just a candle's worth of light."

I raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, putting on a confused look. Of course, I was faking, but I couldn't resist the temptation to get back at him for the teasing he'd been dishing out thus far. My horn glowed, and it was his turn to look confused. "How is this?" I asked, channeling a light spell that was intentionally pointed directly into his face. "I believe it to be quite sufficient - and far more reliable than old batteries, as you said!"

Maksim held up a hand and turned his head away, shielding his eyes and chuckling heartily. "Alright, alright, point taken! Turn out the spotlight," he said, playfully chastising me. I also heard him mumble another word at the end in his native tongue, and I suddenly understood that 'smartass' was a more or less universally understood word. I obliged after another second or two, finally satisfied with my petty revenge. "So no flashlight... we'll move on to something more exciting."

I stepped forward, leaning to the side in an attempt to see what Maksim was reaching for then. He awkwardly stepped over a small metal box, and then made his way to a table up against the far wall. Upon it were several items I recognized as more guns, though there was apparently quite a lot of variety to these weapons. I spotted two Kalashnikov-style rifles like Natalia carried, though there were a few more weapons of a drastically different - and, in my uninformed opinion, worse - design.

Maksim held up one of the Kalashnikovs, gripping it by the fore-end and presenting it for me to see. It looked like it was missing a few pieces compared to the other guns I'd seen, and I spotted a few patches of rust in an instant. Still, it seemed like it was in working condition, even if I was entirely unqualified to make such an assessment. If nothing else, I could trust a 'gun nut' like Maksim's judgment.

"AK seventy-four," he explained, nodding at the gun in his hand, "one of the most common guns in all of Metro. There are thousands of them leftover from the Great War, and the ammo for them doubles as currency down here. Or... perhaps that is its primary role now - most folks are not dumb enough, or desperate enough, to fire money at their enemies."

I was confused once again, taking hold of the weapon in my magic and levitating it closer for a better look. Maksim took a second to comprehend what I was doing, but let go of the gun quickly. "If the ammunition is now used as a form of currency, then what do these weapons shoot?" I asked, rotating the rifle around and looking down its length. Apparently, this was incorrect.

Maksim leaped forward and yanked the gun out of my grasp, startling me enough that my magical grip faltered in an instant. He took the gun into both hands, laughing incredulously all the while, and cradled it close to his chest as if it were a dangerous animal that would lunge at me if it could. "Looks like I have to teach you gun safety, too! You really haven't seen these things before, have you? You were just looking down the business end of a loaded rifle!"

I felt my face heat up as a wave of embarrassment hit me. In hindsight, I should've known better. I had seen these weapons in action less than three hours ago, after all. I felt my ears pin back and hide amongst my mane, but I stood up straight and nodded slowly. "Yes, that... that is my mistake. I was distracted. May you point out the important details for me, then?"

Maksim nodded, having relaxed by now, and crouched down to bring the gun closer to me. "Right, right... you don't know any better. It's simple enough, you'll learn quickly," he said, and I felt slightly better with his reassurances. He then rotated the rifle so it was parallel to the floor, showing me its side in the light. "This is the magazine," he explained, pointing with one finger, "the bullets go in here, and it is how they are fed into the chamber before being fired."

"I see. Then this release must be how you change to a full one?" I asked, indicating a small lever on the underside of the gun. "I understand now why the guards were struggling with these... magazines."

Maksim nodded, and I felt proud for being able to pick out details so quickly. "Precisely. During a reload is when you are most vulnerable in a fight, so it pays to get very good at doing them very quickly. Just behind the magazine is the trigger - here - it is what you pull to fire the weapon. Before you can fire, though, you must do two things. First, you must turn off the safety by flicking this lever down, then you must chamber a round using the charging handle." Maksim pointed to each part as he described its function, and I did my best to commit every detail to memory.

"It seems quite simple so far. But what of the ammunition?" I repeated, glancing at the magazine to see that it was open on one side. Inside were more of the dirty, poorly made cartridges like I saw in the magazines lying on the ground after the battle earlier. "Surely there are better things one could use as currency, yes?"

Maksim followed my eyes down to the ammo, then nodded in understanding. "Ahh, you haven't seen what I mean. Gunsmiths produce lots of ammo in Metro, but... it is not exactly top-shelf stuff. This is new ammo, cheaply made and low quality. We use these as money," he said, digging into one of his chest pockets for a moment before producing a new object. It was a thin metal clip holding five more cartridges, but these were drastically different. They were all uniformly shaped and made of shiny brass and copper, as well as featuring red paint on their tips. "These," he repeated, "are military-grade rounds. Good stuff produced before the end of the world."

I nodded slowly. "I see... and these cannot be reproduced in Metro, hence their scarcity and thus their value." I felt proud when Maksim nodded approvingly once more. "It sounds simple enough. I will have to pay close attention to what I put in my magazines, then."

"You're a natural! You'll be a bullet-grubbing expert in no time," Maksim joked, reaching over to deliver a somewhat rough pat on my shoulder. I flinched at the impact but smiled nonetheless, and watched as he pointed out one last detail. "One more thing - these are your sights. Rear notch with a front post. Align the post in the middle of the notch, and make sure it's placed over what you want to hit. Not all of these guns are as accurate as they used to be, but firefights in the metro are usually quite short-ranged, so it is not much of a problem."

Then, Maksim stretched out the canvas sling on the underside of the rifle and set it over my head. He let go, and the gun dangled off my side. It was not overly heavy, but I could tell the sling would start to chafe soon enough, and I was dreading it already. "I hope I never have to use any of this information," I said, looking up into Maksim's eyes. He didn't respond, but I could see that he agreed. "But if I do, I will be glad to have you nearby."

"A Ranger is just about the best backup a man - or mare - could ask for," Maksim boasted, winking at me, before turning around to look at the table he took my Kalashnikov from. He fetched a new item, then faced me again. "Next up on the list, a knife. Just like with the flashlight, it will pay to have a backup. Bullets run out, but a sharp blade is always in style."

I grimaced at the sight of the thing, its jagged, rusty blade shaped in a way that clearly indicated that it was forged by an amateur working with subpar materials. Barbaric as it looked, I knew better than to judge a blade by its shine. The sharpened edge was still plenty dangerous, and the serrations along the back could make themselves useful in non-combat applications. I took the knife with my magic and stashed it in my satchel. "At the very least, this is a tool I am familiar with."

"Based on your story earlier, I bet you'd prefer a sword, hm? Or perhaps a spear?" Maksim teased, grinning at me. I didn't reply, if only because he was absolutely right. He fetched a few more loose items for me, explaining each as he did so, and I stashed them all in my bag. By the time he was done, I'd tucked away three more magazines for my rifle, a couple of orange cases he informed me were medical kits, a couple of packets that were supposedly meals in a bag, and lastly, a paper map.

I took a peek at the map before putting it away and found it to be quite similar to Natalia's. It featured many of the same symbols, still frustratingly unlabeled, and had clearly seen better days. After a quick glance around, I was fortunate enough to find a pencil to add to my growing collection of 'borrowed' equipment. Maksim smiled knowingly as I floated it off of its shelf and proceeded to mark my map. I copied the markings I had seen on Natalia's map, if only to have a rough idea of where I was and where I was supposed to be heading.

"Almost done loading you up with junk," Maksim joked, stepping away from the weapons table and toward a set of shelves on the wall to his right. "Let's see if we can snag a... ah! Here we go."

"What is it now?" I asked, folding up my map and stashing it in my satchel. "I am beginning to run out of room."

"Don't worry, that's part of what we're going to fix. Maybe I should've started with these instead of letting you cram everything into that mailbag, but... here it is?" Maksim offered, smiling sheepishly as he held up two items - one in each hand. One was a backpack, the other was a thick, camouflage-patterned jacket with a number of pockets. "The jacket might be an awkward fit, seeing as you're not exactly the right shape for it, but I think it will work well enough. It's a size large, anyway, so there's plenty of room."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't argue with receiving all of this for free. Instead, I levitated my satchel and gun off and set them aside, then reared up onto my hind legs to receive the jacket. Maksim watched me move, and I saw a twinkle of that same amazement in his eyes that showed itself when I revealed my magic for the first time. It took a minute or two and a lot of adjusting, but I was eventually clad in a warm, heavy jacket that felt quite sturdy. Its long sleeves bunched up around my hooves, requiring me to roll them up several centimeters, and I could feel it restricting the movement of my wings, but it would have to do for now. Of course, the jacket also left my back half entirely unprotected, but there wasn't much that could be done for that.

Next, I set about transferring all of my belongings from my satchel to the new backpack. It didn't take long, and by the time I was done, I was pleased to see how much space I had left over compared to before. Then, with Maksim's help, I heaved my new bag onto my back and secured the straps around my barrel. It was awkward, and I could feel it brushing the back of my neck if I tilted my head back too much, but again, it would have to do. I thought perhaps I could gather enough of those military-grade rounds to pay a tailor for custom attire later, but I did not allow myself to get my hopes up.

After what felt like ages rummaging around in that glorified closet, I was finally ready to go. Maksim stepped back, looked at me, and grinned. "There you have it! You're real Ranger material now, Luna. Feel powerful yet?"

"I feel like a traveling salespony loaded down with merchandise," I griped, "but if this is what I must carry to ensure my survival here, then so be it. Where do we go now?"

"Now? We just have one last stop to make before we can leave this station. Walk with me, I'll lead the way." Then Maksim stepped past me, pushing open the storage room door and leading the way back out into the public space once again. I followed closely behind him, levitating my rifle off of the floor and slinging it over my side once more. It bounced against my body every step of the way, and I felt as though even more people were staring at me as we passed through the main "street" a second time. I could hardly blame them now, with how heavily loaded I was.

Maksim led me in a new direction, past more shacks and across a set of tracks that had a poorly constructed bridge made of wooden planks. On the far side was more of the same "town", occupying the second platform of the station. This area was more open, looking to be a market of sorts, and I heard several merchants shouting at anyone and everyone who could hear them about their wares. I saw guns and ammo on display in one stall, wooden toys in another, and in another...

"You could have warned me!" I shouted instinctively, raising a hoof and slapping Maksim on the back. He flinched, swore under his breath, and turned around to look at me with an odd expression. He was angry about being hit, surely, but he also looked so confused. He then glanced back over his shoulder, searching for what angered me so, and evidently did not make the connection.

"What?! I was heading to the bar! I figured we'd drink to our journey!" He protested, and I was not sure if he was merely pretending to be clueless or if he was truly ignorant. I glared at him to convey my disapproval.

"That is not the issue. My issue is with that," I said, pointing with a forehoof at the stall in question. A portly-looking man was standing inside, surrounded by freshly cut meat. Pork, by the look of it. I wasn't terribly surprised, given the tin of fish I saw in the other tunnel, but this was... different. Ponies eating fish was not unheard of, and truthfully eating pork was not that unusual either given the customs of the griffons. Still, to see it so prominently displayed, and with such poor sanitation... it made my stomach turn, and I was glad I had not eaten anything since arriving here. That thought came with a sharp ache in my stomach, but I was suddenly not in the mood to eat.

"You-... oh," Maksim said, drawing out the sound as the realization finally dawned on him. "I hadn't even thought of that. Pony, only eats plants, makes sense. Er... sorry?" He shrugged, looking and sounding as though he did not know what else to say. I couldn't be mad at him, even if his apology was lackluster to say the least.

"You are forgiven. I shall just have to keep my distance," I said, before motioning for Maksim to continue leading the way. I followed behind him once more, swinging wide around the meat stall and making my way up a rickety-looking staircase to a large wooden platform. There was a bar at one end, complete with string lights and a record player belting out a relaxed tune. It wasn't very busy, and I had to assume that it was the middle of the "day" in this station. That brought another question to mind.

I didn't get the chance to ask, however, before Maksim was leading me right up to the bar. The bartender looked down at me with bewilderment, then snapped to attention when Maksim cleared his throat and spoke up. "Ahem! One for the road, and one for the lady, too," he said, putting a bit of bravado into his voice. I rolled my eyes once more and stood quietly by his side.

The bartender kept looking confused for another few seconds, but ultimately relented. He crouched down, fetched two shot glasses from beneath the bar, and set them on top. Then, he turned around and grabbed a dark green bottle full of an equally dark brown liquid and filled both glasses. Maksim watched, and set down one of those clips of military-grade rounds as payment. The bartender took it silently, then went right back to staring at me.

"Thank you," I said quietly, which seemed to surprise him even more. I wasn't sure whether to feel proud or insulted that my appearance garnered so much attention and interest, but I was quickly getting used to it either way. I levitated up my glass, sniffed at its contents, and immediately wrinkled my nose. It was pungent to say the least, and it most certainly did not seem like anything I should be putting in my mouth. Clearly, Maksim did not feel the same.

"Come on, bottoms up! It's only a proper toast if we drink together," he insisted, raising his knee to bump me in the side.

"Yes, but a toast also needs a sentiment. You haven't even proposed a toast." I wasn't arguing earnestly, and Maksim could tell, but I felt the need to point it out anyway. It was his turn to roll his eyes, but his grin didn't falter.

"Fine, fine. To safe travels!" He cheered, attracting a few more stares than we were already getting whilst standing in the middle of the room. I had to imagine we were quite the sight, mismatched "soldiers" that we were, though the circumstances were just as absurd. I was underground in some ramshackle bar, Stars-knew-how-far away from home, and covered in military equipment that I only just barely understood how to use. I sighed, levitated my shot glass a little higher, and downed it in one swift drink. This was a mistake.

Quite possibly the worst flavor I'd ever experienced washed over my tongue, and it burned the entire way down my throat. I coughed and sputtered, nearly dropping my glass but managing to slam it down on the bar instead. Maksim had a great laugh at my expense, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and setting his glass down next to mine. "Ahh! Good old 'shroom vodka," Maksim proclaimed, putting his hands on his hips. "Tastes like shit and knocks you on your ass, but it's cheap. Welcome to Metro proper, Luna."

I was surprised by Maksim's overly friendly behavior, given his skepticism toward everything I said just an hour or so ago. Then again, perhaps I shouldn't question it. I would much prefer having an eager host than being left alone, and I could understand the inclination toward merriment in such a gloomy place. That was one of the few ways I could see these people still carrying on after more than twenty years of this - trapped underground in a tomb of their own creation.

"Once again, a warning would have been nice," I croaked, my voice strained even after I took a moment to recover from the vodka. "How do you people willingly drink this?"

"It's all we've got, unless you feel like shelling out the big bucks for some pre-war stuff," Maksim explained, "but I thought I'd give you a taste of Metro, like I said. Now we're ready to start making tracks. Follow me."

"I would just as soon stick to water then," I groused, turning in place to follow Maksim back down the steps. This time he led me back through the station toward the first common area I had been introduced to, though this time it was far less populated. It seemed after my initial appearance, everyone was in a rush to get back to work and had quickly dispersed. Everyone, that is, except for the children. They were left to fend for themselves for the moment, but they all paid close attention when we passed through.

I looked at each of them in turn, a small smile creeping onto my face before I even realized it, and I felt some sort of connection. Almost like that between myself and my younger subjects back in Equestria. A deep part of my subconscious mind told me I should be the one to protect them, to stand watch over them, but I knew it could not be. I had a mission of my own, and they would have to make do with what they had here. Maksim didn't so much as slow down, even as he attracted just as many looks thanks to his legendary status as a Ranger.

From there, we made our way back to the tunnel. It looked even lonelier than it did before, now that I knew what the civilization was like here. The warm glow of oil lamps and incandescent light bulbs beckoned me back, inviting me to turn around and go back to the unfamiliar comfort of the station, but I resisted their call. I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and stepped forward to drop down from the platform.

My hooves met dirt just as Maksim's boots met railroad ties, and then we were standing on the tracks together.

"All set?" He asked, sounding more serious then.

"Indeed. Lead the way, Maksim."