Long time since I wrote anything here. Mainly because I was travelling between Crawling Swamps and Rotten Forest, and the trail was littered with mutants and anomalies, so no breaks. The place is too creepy to be creative too. Either way, last time I wrote an entry, I was in that Punisher outpost, about to get my grey matter used as a wall decoration. Then such interesting new experience was interrupted by the sudden appearance of the boys in bright blue, the Peacekeepers. Here's how it went.

I was sitting in a ditch, struggling to get my machine gun out of its holster as I could hear the Peackeepers move in. Some bandits begged for mercy, only to be smacked in the face and handcuffed by the sound of it. From the few orders I heard being yelled, it sounded like they were Polish, which would make sense given the Rosomak infantry fighting vehicle they arrived with. I finally managed to free my Type 73, its curved magazine had been lodged between my backbag straps. Just as I did though, one of the Punishers tried to make a break for it, only to be cut down by a burst from a rifle. The bullets passed through him and showered the road with blood as red as the Adidas sweatpants the man was wearing.

I breathed in, feeling my heart beat like a caged animal in my chest. Panic was rising, I was sure death would claim me this day. Then, somehow, I spotted movement to my left. Fifty metres to my left, there was a wooden, overturned boat, and peeking from it was a hand that was waving at me to come to it. I glanced over the bank of the ditch and saw the Peacekeepers round up the Punisher survivors. If there was ever a chance to escape certain death or capture, it was now.

I crawled into a nearby bush, waited five seconds to hear if I was spotted, then crawled on again. I repeated this multiple times, keeping as low as I could, my gun folded to my side to not stick out. Fueled by desperate need to survive, I kept going despite the crawling scraping my hands, knees and elbows. Eventually, after the most panicked scramble, I made it and slipped under the boat. A shadowed figure in a trenchcoat stared at me, and then I saw a pistol barrel flash in the dim light.

"Don't try anything dumb. Don't say a thing, just lay there and be quiet, our lives depend on it.", the man in the dark ordered in a hushed voice.

I nodded, and the man lowered the gun towards the floor. We waited for roughly fifteen minutes in silence, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't sweating like a pig from anxiety. Not only was there an international organization outside, who, in a good scenario would shoot me and in a bad scenario capture me and send me home in cuffs for life. Not to mention the unknown man basically holding me at gunpoint. Still, when we no longer heard any noises from the outside, my captor lowered his head just enough to check outside.

"The tank is driving off in the distance, and I see nobody near the base.", he said and returned back fully inside the boat.

Keeping his right hand on the pistol and using the left one to get a lighter, he flicked it open and ignited it. In the feeble light I saw a skull and crossbones on his trenchcoat sleeve, and his face... was that of the Pirate me and Donner had captured back at the Guard outpost. He sneered as he saw my realization, and I took a moment to gather my derailed train of thought.

"You seem to remember me. Good. Now you can give me back my machine gun, it's rude to steal other people's propery. And while it might not mean much, as I am a pirate after all, I promise not to shoot you. I owe you one for not letting those Guard bastards execute me.", the Pirate ordered, and without other options, I was forced to hand him my, and his, machine gun.

"A bandit with a heart of gold. I'll be damned. What's your name? Considering we have this truce thing, might as well make the best of it. I'm Chronicler.", I asked.

"Mink. I'd say it's pleasure to meet you but you did shoot me.", Mink replied.

"Is your leg wound any better? I'd say we let the past stay in the past, we did both save each other's lives after all.", I argued, and the pirate slowly nodded.

"Eh, you're right. And my leg's better, your medic friend had some good supplies. Why the name Chronicler though? Are you some sort of egghead?"

"I'm working to write the stories of each faction down as I go. I know it's not the most profitable thing out there, but it's all I know to do."

"You're not bad with the gun, either. Listen, I know we are naturally enemies, but right now I'm still wounded and you're essentially alone and unarmed, so how about we work together for a while?", Mink proposed.

"Very uncharacteristic of a bandit. But sure."

"I'm not a bandit at heart, just caught between a rock and a hard place. And Pirates aren't the worst bunch, we only attacked that Guard outpost since one of our squads was killed by them.", Mink defended himself.

"Keep your excuses to yourself. How's your relations with Final Frontier? They have a base nearby, it's our best shot at getting some shelter.", I queried, and Mink nodded once more.

"Yeah, we have a truce with them since we helped one of their units travel downstream to Creeping Swamps. Merry bunch, those lads. But I think we could scavenge some good shit from the Punisher outpost now that those svoloch are down.", Mink offered, and it was my turn to nod in approval.

We sneaked out from under the boat, realizing that it was slowly getting darker. Mink pulled out his flashlight and handed it to me, as I was only armed with my Walther pistol. We trudged over to the scorched outpost, the bodies of those Punishers killed in the skirmish littering the fields. I watched Mink get to work looting the corpses, and to my surprise he found at least half a dozen hidden pouches or pockets in the jackets, rucksacks and sweatpants of the dead men. He grinned at my surprised face, saying that it was a trade secret.

"The Peacekeepers sure did not hold their shots.", I commented.

"Oh, this is nothing. They're actually pretty chill, they tend to try to disable the leader and then capture everyone alive. These dumbfucks decided to fire back and got their asses handed to them though, but in normal circumstances, if you run into Peacekeepers, surrendering or running away is the way to go. They don't shoot runners with the intent of killing, as they are bound by the peacekeeping treaty with UN and Ukrainian state, and sometimes you can bribe yourself out of custody. But mess with them like these debils did, and you are pretty much minced meat.", Mink explained while counting the roubles he had found in the pocket of one Punisher.

"Do you run into them often then? Seems like you know a lot about them.", I asked, as Mink handed me one of the magazines he'd found on the corpse.

"I had a friend in the Pirates who was captured by them. The peacekeepers at that point had just arrived to the Zone and thought he was just a regular loner, so they weren't too happy to give him to the local jarheads. He supplied them with information about the Zone, taught them about anomalies and in turn they let him go after two weeks in custody. Their morale is super low, as this is about the worst place a peacekeeper can end up in.", Mink said.

"How so?", I pressed.

"Think about it. Even in places like Afghanistan, Iraq or Russia, you have unarmed locals and local forces to help you. You can drive around the streets, and while it's stressful, you can go days or weeks without enemy contact. Here though, not only is every stalker armed, but there are unknown threats, dangerous mutants, storms that boil your brain and the local Ukrainian forces do not want you here. Peacekeepers are not let in on any of the secrets the Ukrainians know, and only know the bare minimum UN scientists are allowed to see. They barely patrol the border, as their leadership has given up on helping the Ukrainians if they don't want to help in return.", Mink kept going.

"Huh. Sucks to be them, then. Do you have any idea where they're from? I heard them speak Polish but are there others?", I continued questioning.

"You want to add them into your book? I recommend finding someone who actually cares about them, I only heard of them a bit. Still, for what it's worth, they have multiple contingents. Poles patrol this side of the Zone, Germans are near the Belarusian border, French tend to be in the southeast, Brits are usually in the western parts. There's also Italians, and there used to be a Russian contingent until, you know, their motherland imploded. Some say they're still in the Zone, trying desperately to reach Belarus.", Mink continued in turn.

"Interesting. And I assume they're not super hostile to stalkers? Bandits are one thing but your average stalker is closer to a civvie than a militant."

"Bingo. They even employ some stalkers, like I said before with my friend, to teach them Zone survival. Of course it's very hush hush, but usually if you wear the rad patch, you can approach their outpost and maybe trade some gear, just make sure the local piggies aren't nearby.", Mink scoffed.

"Thanks for the information, this will be great. I'll have to write this down sometime. I'll try to find me a proper gun if you keep looting those guys, or do you want me to keep watch?"

"Nah, keep looking. I've been trained to loot and be vigilant at the same time, I'll alert you if someone gets close. Check the bus, they may have a storage there with backup guns.", Mink said, and I followed his instructions.

Inside the husk of the bus, now even more ruined than before thanks to the deadly rounds of the Rosomak's autocannon, the corpse of Warmonger still lay on its spot. I tried to ignore the gruesome sight and stepped over it while searching for goods. There were some loose items I pocketed, mostly foodstuffs and ammo, not much use to me as of now. Still, in the corner of the bus, hidden under a blanket was a small blue chest, and upon opening it, I found an AR-pattern rifle. Though, upon closer inspection, it seemed to be an SMG, and the markings on it read as Colt 9 millimeter SMG. It was a short, stubnosed gun, and not exactly my preferred type of a weapon, but it sure beat the Walther. I took it and three spare magazines from the chest, holstering it on my back.

Before leaving, I went through Warmonger's gear. His suit had been destroyed essentially, and I lacked the training to use an exoskeleton anyway. Still, I found a wallet with 50 thousand roubles in it, plus some ammunition, medication and rounds. I took the PDA of the dead bandit as well. Unfortunately, the SR-25 rifle he had carried was damaged beyond repair. It would have fetched a pretty penny, but eh, win some, lose some. I pocketed the cash and stepped outside, where Mink had lit a cigarette. He offered me one, but I shook my head.

"I hear these remove radiation, which is handy.", Mink said, putting his pack into the pocket of his jacket.

"Yeah, right. What next, bottled water does so too?", I snorted.

"Hey now, I never said I believed the rumours. Let's just get going. I see you got a new gun, pretty nice piece.", Mink replied, changing the subject.

"Want to trade it for that machine gun of yours? I kind of got used to it...", I offered, but Mink only chuckled dryly and shook his head.

We did one last sweep on the destroyed outpost, but what little the Peacekeepers had left was now either in our pockets or utterly ruined. We left the place, leaving behind only the corpses now being picked by crows and the swirling smoke trailing upwards like a snake trying to eat the clouds. The grey sky did not exactly raise my mood, but despite my companion being a bandit I was happy to have some company. Mink shared some details of his past to me, how he had been a petty car part thief who worked up the ranks of Ukrainian crime life to a mechanic working for the mob. Then, he was recruited by Pirate representatives to come fix their boats in the Zone, a move Mink cursed to this day. He wasn't a fighter, but due to recent losses Pirates had pressed him into service as a gunner. Now that his squad was dead, Mink had no real reason to return.

"What do you do now, then?", I asked.

"Might join Final Frontier, I hear they have some engines on them. Or Freedom, it's not unheard of for them to take in bandits, and their mechanized tachankas sure could use my skills. I might even join Redemption, their master technician Psoglav is famed across the Zone.", Mink said with a shrug.

"Man with your skills will surely find work, even with your past.", I replied, and Mink gave me a faint smile.

The Final Frontier troops stopped us by the ruined house, but when they saw my face they let us in. There had been moments when I was sure I'd buy the farm, but here I was, back in the safety of allied camp. Hoping to still get my reward despite everything that had happened at the Punisher camp, I went into One-Eye's office, Mink in tow. The old Frontiersman looked at me with his singular eye, and there was a hint of surprise on his face.

"I am glad you survived, our scouts were far from certain of it once those internationals attacked. I almost called for us to retaliate but I don't think we could have done much against that big tin can of theirs, blyat.", One-Eye cursed.

"Understandable, I wasn't one of your men. Besides, I knew the risks when I took the gig. And I couldn't even fulfill the mission, Warmonger turned aggressive the second I mentioned you and the Peacekeepers actually saved me from his wrath. This guy though, Mink here, pulled me out of the fire. He is looking to join a faction, you hiring?", I questioned, and the veteran stalker turned his gaze towards the Pirate.

"Pirate, eh? We don't really like you folk, but if you've got the skills and don't care about your former bosses, we can talk. First though, Chronicler, here's your price. Mission complete or not, you had the courage to walk there and face a bunch of thugs, so you can have this Mica. I'll throw in some rounds for that new sub-gun of yours.", One-Eye replied and handed me my reward.

I thanked him for the generosity and left Mink and the Frontier boss to discuss his possible recruitment. My stomach was grumbling for something, anything really, and I had noticed the Frontiermen's soup kitchen not far from One-Eye's "office". We used to call these trailers "soup cannons" at home, so I guess the chef running it was a soup gunner. He was a guy named Runt, and since I had made it out alive he handed me a plate of broth on the house. No idea what the meat was from, but it tasted good so I didn't complain. Sometimes all you need is a plate of food and a bit of quiet for the Zone to be a tolerable place to live. And after such a near-death experience, it was a dinner made in heaven. Once I finished my plate, Mink appeared by the kitchen and got a plate of his own.

"So, any luck?", I asked.

"No. These are good lads, but they don't really wish to take in bandits, even as valuable as me, for now. He suggested that I head to the nearby neutral zone and try to negotiate with either Freedom, Redemption or any other less hostile group really.", Mink answered, looking quite bummed.

"Well, I'll come with you then.", I said quickly.

"Really? Why?", Mink replied, taken aback by my response.

"I have nothing better to do. Besides, I need to be on the move all the time to finish my book, so might as well head there. If you don't mind the company, that is."

"No, not at all. You might be a nerd but at least you shoot well.", Mink responded.

"Better than you, with proof.", I said triumphantly.

"Yea, but I'm not a nerd so it balances out.", Mink jested.

I scoffed and handed my plate back to Runt. Travelling with a bandit was not on my to-do list to be honest, but Mink was growing on me. Besides, he seemed to know a lot about Zone life, so it could be beneficial for my studies. Still, only time would tell if I had been too hasty in my judgement of his character or not.