| 06:24:34 5 September 2009
On forum: 04/15/2007
The Zone: Rebirth|
Hello fellow Stalkers. You may remember me as that guy who wrote that one long ass story that either sucked or was pretty damn good - either way, said story was good enough that a few of you have said things like "MOAR" or "so when's the sequel" or "I just finished! way too stupid , I didn't get what I wanted!". Well... 2 out of 3 wins right?
Anyway, on that note let's not have it said that I am going to start a whole sequel by any means... but I'm reserving the name bitches!
Oh, I wrote some stuff too... here you go:
“As you can see the damage is catastrophic. The area around the Plant is charred and destroyed and the plant itself is nothing short of an inextinguishable inferno.”
The reporter continues to stare into the camera, remembering to maintain her somber look and tone as she reads the words scrolling up the prompter. The newsroom is in silent chaos in the background as people run around frantically to keep up with the latest updates and developments in the breaking story.
“Last reports indicated that the military occupation of the facility that was seen headed away from the plant in Humvees and other vehicles in an apparent retreat were that they were being pursued by some sort of animals. Some speculate the animals called the facility home and the spread of the fire forced them out of their nesting grounds.”
She does her best to stay composed but the background distractions are becoming more and more of an annoyance.
“…Now, obviously there is a lot of speculation circulating the airwaves right now as this is drawing international attention. Adrik - what on earth do you suppose… I mean how can we even begin to describe what could have happened and may still be happening in there?”
The light goes off on her camera and she takes the time to take a deep breath as the studio guest, Adrik, takes over.
“Well, Katia, we don’t have sufficient details yet say anything without a shadow of doubt, but let me be the first to ask the question that is on many of our minds: what is such a large concentration of the Russian military doing there? To see Russian forces occupying wherever they care to occupy is nothing new… but were they there in secret or did our government let them in?
Whatever the truth is, we now know that our government has not been entirely truthful with us. Whether they were invited or just pushed their ways in the Ukrainian people knew nothing about it, and for that we should be asking these questions.”
Katia inhales deeply as the camera switches back to her.
“What are your thoughts on the scene as it develops? What is the Russian military doing in the Zone of Alienation, how did the fire start and why is there no attempt being made to put it out?”
The camera switches back to Adrik.
“I think it’s safe to assume that if the Ukranian people know nothing about it then there must be some top secret military project going on there… that might explain why there are so many “animals”, as you called them, fleeing the facility along with the military. The fire is good indication that whatever it was they were doing had a frightening end. As for allowing the flames to continue to burn… well, we really don’t know how much unspent nuclear fuel could still lie below the reactor after the 1986 explosion. If history is repeating itself, my guess is they pushed that place to its limits and now we’re left to deal with the consequences.”
Check out my Stalker stories and other Zone-related stuff!
| 02:52:10 13 September 2009
On forum: 04/15/2007
Message edited by:
Hey again Stalkers, here's another mini-installment of the aftermath of The Zone: Life and Death. Once again, I'm not planning on writing a full-fledged sequel at this time but these short bursts of writing could very well make up the foundations of that sequel if I ever do decide to take on that amount of work.
In this installment, we see the reaction of the Russian military from a secret command bunker as their operation is crumbling and international attention is being drawn from the aftermath. Now, they must work quickly to pick up the pieces and glue them back together in a deformed, but stable form.
I hope you enjoy
The Russian Commander paced back and forth on the concrete floor of the underground command center. The soldiers sitting at the terminals behind the floor did their best to look busy lest they catch their commander’s distraught eye and become a target of his rage. The tension built as the mounting need to give a status report built in the minds of the soldiers, but none of them wanted to be the one to give it. Suddenly the commander stopped in his tracks, drawing the attention of all those in the room.
The soldiers watched in anticipation as his hands slowly balled into fists and began to shake. In one swift move he pivoted his body to the right, swinging his left fist over his head and crashing it down on the terminal of the unfortunate soldier closest to him. The soldier and those closest to him flinched suddenly, staring directly at their commander as his face contorted in an attempt to formulate words through his rabid anger.
“Give me a fucking status report! NOW!”
The weight of the moment came crashing down on the soldier nearest the commander. He stuttered as the words left his mouth;
“I… I have nothing to report s… sir.”
That was the wrong answer. The commander grabbed the soldier by the collar, forcing him close enough to his face that the soldier could smell what the commander had eaten last… whenever that was.
“Then who the FUCK is monitoring the situation?!”
Another soldier spoke up in an effort to rescue his comrade from the commander rage.
“It is they who have failed to report to us… sir.”
The commander swivels his head to the left and glares at the soldier who just spoke. The soldier in his grasp swallows hard and sighs a silent sigh of relief. The commander drops the soldier back onto his chair and stares long and hard at the other soldier. The room is rudely awaked from their daze by the sound of a gunshot.
The commander’s pistol is out of its holster and aimed in the direction of the last soldier who spoke, smoke emitting from the barrel. The slouched soldier slowly sinks back into his chair, a red stream flowing down his face. The soldiers in the room grip the edge of their desks in fear. The commander walks slowly up and down the row of consoles, all eyes are trained on him as he goes. He enters a row randomly, glancing at the lack of information reported on his soldiers’ consoles. He stops and looks around the room to make sure all eyes are on him.
“Further failure will not be dismissed as mercifully.”
With that, he leans back and throws his fist into the solider closest to him. The soldier yelps in pain as his head impacts the monitor on his console, cracking the screen and leaving a smear of blood as his head sinks on his desk. The commander composes himself and walks briskly back to the front of the command center.
“Now, somebody reestablish contact with our men and get me some fucking results.”
The room goes into immediate action as the soldiers type on their keyboards and talk over radios in a desperate attempt to get some sort of update.
The commander storms out of the room, leaving the situation to those below him. He walks down the hall. Soldiers swing wide to avoid him as he continues to his destination. He reaches the door to his quarters, slamming the door behind him. He walks over to a small refrigerator, opening it and taking out a large bottle of clear liquid. He pours himself a shot, drinks it quickly and winces as it goes down. Then, he walks over to his personal console to report on the situation. After a few moments a voice addresses him from the computer:
[Unknown]: Hail comrade. What can you tell me of the situation?
[Commander]: The situation is unchanged, sir. We’re still as blind as a deformed child.
[Unknown]: That’s not good. I trust you to handle the situation, but the longer it is allowed to proceed like this the more attention it’s going to draw to this operation. We’ve already had an extensive document leak that found its way into international headlines. I can only use my political powers so much before it turns into a real shitstorm.
[Commander]: Understood sir, I am doing everything in my power to correct the problem.
[Unknown]: I know, but we must see results soon or I’m going to run out of options.
[Commander]: Give me 24 hours. I will have something in that time.
[Unknown]: 24 hours. Any more than that and I don’t have to tell you what it could mean.
[Commander]: No sir.
[Unknown]: You know what needs to be done. Farewell my friend.
The commander stands up, closing his eyes and letting the full weight of the situation sink in. There is a lot of work ahead of him and not much time in which to accomplish it.
Time for Plan B.
Check out my Stalker stories and other Zone-related stuff!
| 03:42:59 14 September 2009
On forum: 04/15/2007
Here is the third installment of Rebirth. Here we see Duty's reaction to the events unfolding: the withholding of information from the Military, the lack of information, and an update on the mutant threat. Readers of Life and Death may recognize one of the characters in this story...
As always, I hope you enjoy it.
A cool breeze brushed lazily across the cracked, forlorn pavement as the sun began to set in the sky. An orange light bathed the abandoned complex as Duty Stalkers patrolled the area, pointing Stalkers in the right direction as they arrived. A slow, steady stream of sub-commanders had been trickling in all day, of them recalled to Duty HQ to assess the situation occurring in the middle of the Zone. The last one entered the gate into the large building in the back of the complex; the one under heavy guard.
He slowly, but deliberately walked down the stairs into the underground complex, through the dim, narrow halls towards a room in the back of the building. After the guards brush him down and remove his weapons they open the door, allowing him to enter the room where a handful of Duty Stalkers are gathered around a large table in the center of the room. The commander greeted him as he entered.
Duty Commander: Ah, Mace. It’s good to see you again. Please, come in – we were just discussing the situation as it unfolds.
Mace walks up to the table, where several maps and photographs are arrayed around. The Stalkers are several heated discussions about from the military occupation, the mutant threat, and the danger of an imminent release of radiation from Chernobyl. Mace speaks over the voices in an effort to get everybody’s attention:
Mace: Now that we’re all here, can someone please tell me what in the hell is going on in there?
The conversations die off slowly, all eyes turn to the Duty commander, allowing him to take the stand.
Duty Commander: We don’t know. All of this came without even a whisper in our direction. Our “friends” in the military are completely silent and all attempts to reach the have been met with silence. Our best guess suggests that they were operating in our own back yard, hoping that we wouldn’t notice. That very well could have been the case had it not been for whatever catastrophe happened there.
Mace: What do we know about the situation there?
The Duty commander sighs, rubbing his forehead slowly as if trying to coax his growing headache out of his skull.
Duty Commander: Nothing. The air is silent.
The room quiets to the point of near perfect silence. Every Stalker is trying to make some sort of sense of the situation. One of them speaks up after a few minutes:
[Unknown]: What about Freedom?
Duty Commander: What about them?
[Unknown]: They’re closer to the center than we are, maybe they know something about it.
Another Stalker adds:
[Unknown 2]: What about the latest Military operation? Last reports were that they were forced to pull out of the Military Warehouses due to Freedom’s heavy fortification of the area… could Freedom have learned something of the Military’s operation within Chernobyl and launched a counter-attack?
Duty Commander: That is possible… but whether they had knowledge or not is not what disturbs me most; it’s the fact that we knew nothing. Granted, our alliance with the Military doesn’t mean we share our weaknesses with them, but what business do they have operating here without our knowledge? Their place is outside of the Zone, and that’s where it should remain.
The Stalkers nod their heads and agree quietly amongst themselves. Another Stalker enters the conversation, addressing another immediate problem:
[Unknown 3]: What about the mutants?
The room quiets again, all attention returning to the commander.
Duty Commander: Mutants have always been a threat. We all knew that when we signed up for this…
The commander is cut off by the same Stalker:
[Unknown 3]: Yes, we did. That’s not what I meant. Something has changed…
The Stalkers picks up a few selected photographs on the table and drops them in front of the commander.
[Unknown 3]: They have never acted like this before. If I had to give a name to what they are doing I would almost say “revenge”. We all know that they’re hostile by nature but many types of mutants simply wander the Zone aimlessly killing only when necessary or threatened. These photographs would seem to indicate that they are intent on irradiating all non-mutant presence.
[Unknown]: What?! That’s absurd! It looks to me like they’re just defending their territory like any other mutant. Why would they kill if not for food? That’s just damn stupid to kill off one of the most abundant forms of food in the Zone – they’d starve themselves!
[Unknown 3]: I thought that too, at first. Then the reports started coming in from my sector.
The Stalker pulls a few photographs out of a breast pocket on his modified Kevlar body armor, composing part of his Stalker suit. He drops the photographs on the table. The Stalkers scan the photographs carefully, passing them around until they reach the commander. He picks them up and cycles through each of them individually. A look of dismay crosses his face.
Duty Commander: When did this start happening?
[Unknown 3]: By our clocks… almost immediately after we got news of activity in the center. There’s no way these mutants came from there. They came right for us, killing a few of my men without warning. We fought off three separate attacks within the course of an hour. This isn’t just a matter of food or territory… for some reason, they want us dead – ALL of us.
The low murmur fills the room, the Stalkers look confused and worried.
Mace interrupts the chatter:
Mace: So what do we do now?
The Duty commander rubs his forehead again, shaking his head and letting out a sigh before regretfully speaking:
Duty Commander: We need more information if we’re going to correctly assess this threat. Freedom may have that information. We should attempt to make contact with them and work together to combat the mutant threat.
The Stalkers at the table go into an uproar, some pounding their fists on the table as they stand in protest.
[Unknown 4]: Those merciless bastards killed one of my teams on a harmless mission to search for artifacts. They didn’t even ask any questions or take prisoners!
[Unknown 2]: Don’t forget they killed my brother in a gunfight between our territories. I would gladly trust a Bandit before I would trust them!
The commander raises his hands to quiet the room. The Stalkers sit angrily, discontent to hear any more of this proposal.
Duty Commander: I know we have our differences, and that many Stalkers have died needlessly on both sides. But what other option do we have? The Bandits only occupy the outskirts of the Zone, and they would shoot us down and rob us before they would help us. The Mercs only work for money and could give two shits about the Zone or anyone in it. Neutral Stalkers are nothing more than cannon-fodder and I can’t say I much trust the Military anymore…
The Stalkers are still riled, but start to agree silently.
Duty Commander: At the end of the day, we’re all in the Zone for a handful of reasons… sometimes our methodology just causes us to have… “issues” with other Stalkers. But this matter is bigger than our conflicts both past and present, so if we can just put that aside for a little while maybe we can get back to completing our primary mission. Who knows… maybe after all this is over we’ll have less of a problem with Freedom interfering in our affairs. Maybe some good will come of this.
Mace: That may be a bit of a stretch, nonetheless you make a good point and anything that will help us in our primary mission is welcome to me. How about the rest of you?
There are no objections, although a few Stalkers still look disgruntled from the thought of any form of interaction with Freedom. The commander waits, then stands with his decision.
Duty Commander: It’s decided then. Our priority should be the make contact with Freedom and keep our ears open for any updates from the center. Once we know what we’re dealing with we can decide our next move. You are dismissed.
The commander walks out of the room and out of sight, leaving the Stalkers to talk amongst themselves.
Mace stretches back in his chair; thoughts flooding his mind about how deep the effects of the most recent disaster in the Zone could go. The two disasters that took place in the Zone were the worst the world had ever seen – could this event mark the next chapter in the Zone’s deadly history? What if it is the last?
Too much speculation. This is one of those times where the best thing to do is stay calm and don’t overreact. The information is there, just waiting to be uncovered, there’s no sense wasting resources until an accurate assessment can be made.
Mace stands up, says his farewells to the other Stalkers and leaves the room, hoping that a good night’s sleep will help him process this information, but more that the morning will yield some answers.
Check out my Stalker stories and other Zone-related stuff!