A/N: Before you start reading, please take the time to read this set of author's notes. It will untangle any knots of confusion there may be and it will also explain some of the things that are featured in this chapter. Thank you.
This chapter is probably everyone's favorite part of any movie, book, TV show, or fanfic… FLASHBACK! There will be a couple flashback chapters in the story and most of them will mainly involve Aleksander Lebedev, leader of the Stallions, and how he has changed over the years. Some of the chapters will also reveal and hint at parts of his past. I may make a chapter with Colt… not sure. I felt like Aleksander really deserved a flashback, though. Oh, and just for safe's sake, only you, the readers, are glimpsing into Aleksander's past. Colt will have no knowledge of this whatsoever and will only know what the King and other characters tell him about Aleksander.
Now, I did do a little research about the history of the NCR and President Tandi and all that good stuff. Please, if the information seems wrong to you, don't bash me about it; all information came from the Fallout wikia, so, please, take it up with those lovely folks. Anyways, if you have a small problem, and aren't going to completely destroy my morale because I have the wrong info, please let me know and I'll fix it. Oh, and Fort Freedom is a totally made up place that I pulled out of my ass... just thought I should throw that out there.
This flashback will also include some Russian names. The names... I'm a little "ify" on. I'm not sure if they're put together correctly and I'm sorry if they're not. Tell you the truth, I just looked up common Russian first names and last names and put them together... they came out pretty darn well, though. I do not mean to offend anyone; I needed the names to be short, sweet, and easy to remember. If you have any problems, let me know and I'll work it out some way.
There are Russian words in the story and they are in English and in the phonetic alphabet. I can't put them in the proper Russian scripture because, well… my keyboard has English letters… the point is, I hope they're translated right and I do not mean to offend anyone if they are wrong. Well, anyways, please, if you have any problems, just let me know and I will make changes immediately
As always, enjoy the chapter and, please, write a review 'cause I know this fic is not perfect and I will take any and all criticism. Thank you for reading and I hope you continue to read!
Fort Freedom, a few miles south of the Boneyard, Aleksander Lebedev's Office
January 6, 2246
Aleksander Lebedev was sitting behind an old oak desk, which was finely stained with the dark stain used by Pre-War carpenters to give the wood a nice full color, and he sat on an old black leather chair rattled with holes and tears. The old office chair, which he found in a destroyed administrative building of Fort Freedom, wasn't the most comfortable seat available, but, then again, it wasn't made for comfort. In front of Aleksander's desk were two leather recliner chairs; it's where his visitors would sit while they discussed business matters. Father back, behind the chairs, was a door with a bookshelf next to it and an old, worn out couch on the perpendicular wall. Besides the furniture, Aleksander's office was decorated with pictures of himself with acquaintances such as Alice McLafferty of the Crimson Caravan Company and whom he's made numerous business deals with, Aradesh, one the founders of the New California Republic, and, one of his most prized pictures, was of him with the famous Vault Dweller, who roamed the wastes years ago.
Along with pictures of himself with celebrities of the California Wasteland, Aleksander also had pictures of himself with his employees. He liked to be close to them, so they know that, unlike most other military leaders, he cared for them. But, through all of the star studded and employee pictures, one of his most favored photographs was sitting on his desk and he saw it every time he sat down to work. It was an old black and white photo of himself with his family before the War; him with his wife Dashia, his ten year old daughter Khristina, and his three year old son Dimitri. It broke his heart every time he saw it and it made him loathe the world for taking it all away… but, it made him work harder so that other's would not have to feel his pain.
Aleksander rubbed his hands together, the leather of his gloves squeaking and scratching together sent a chill up his spine. He was trying to soothe the painful sores on his hands, but it was no use; the sores all over his body ached all of the time. Unfortunately, the constantly aching sores was one of the many disadvantages of being, what the Americans called, a "ghoul". You're skin peeled and eroded away, leaving sores and revealing clumps of flesh. He was turned into a ghoul after the Great War. After the bombs dropped, the severe and intense radiation slowly leaked into his homemade bunker, slowly turning him into a ghoul. Three friends of his, who joined him on his journey to America, were also turned into the monsters. Fortunately, his wife and children didn't have to suffer the same horrible fate… Aleksander shook off the fearful memory of his home country, wiping away a tear, and focused on the paperwork on the desk in front of him.
The paper was a requisition form from a small caravan company wanting decent guards to protect an important medical supply shipment. It would be, approximately, a one week venture from the Boneyard to the Hub. He signed his name on the dotted line at the bottom and placed it in a manila envelope. He signed his name, his gang's name, and the caravan company's name on the front of the envelope
Aleksander was interrupted during his signing by someone opening the door. It was Nikolai Butkovsky; one of his closest friends, his second in command, and co-founder of the Stallions.
"Aleksander," Nikolai said in a cheerful tone as he entered the room. Even though Aleksander and his friends were ghouls, they didn't lose their voices or accents and have them replaced by rasping, wheezing breaths like the ghouls of the California Wasteland. Instead, they kept their thick Russian accents.
"Nikolai, my friend," Aleksander stood and shook hands with his friend, motioning for him to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk, "Would you like a drink?"
"Yes, that would be most welcoming. It's extremely hot out there today," Nikolai answered, opening up his leather jacket and stretching his shirt's collar.
All Stallions wore leather jackets. The only difference was the rank insignias on them. They found the rank insignia and medals in the fort when they arrived. Aleksander, being a former soldier, decided that they needed some type of ranking system, so, they adopted one. Aleksander, being the leader, sported four silver stars, Nikolai had three stars, Vladimir Ryndenko, another friend of Aleksander's who was third in command, had two stars, and Mikhail Voroshilov, a good friend of Nikolai's and who willingly accepted fourth command, wore one star. The rest of the gang members had their specific insignia for their specific ranks.
"It is hot out there," Aleksander agreed as he dug into the fridge behind him, "We are Russian, after all. We're used to the cold of Siberia," the two laughed at the common Russian stereotype as Aleksander pulled out a bottle of vodka and showed it to Nikolai, "Vodka?"
"Da. Hey, Aleksander, why did you come to America anyway?"
"Because, Nikolai," Aleksander answered as he took down two glasses from a shelf above the fridge, uncorked the bottle of alcohol, and began to pour two shots of vodka, "After I was discharged from the military and started my own aid company, I came here frequently. America was like a second home to me. The people were friendly and were always glad to help. I loved the people, but their government… the sukas," Aleksander cursed in his native tongue. He hated the Pre-War governments; they were the ones who cause all of this pain and misery forced upon the world, "Their government was so neglecting… I felt sorry for them. Then again," Aleksander laughed a solemn laugh, "The other governments weren't any better."
"Well, that's true," Nikolai agreed, taking the shot of vodka offered to him by Aleksander, "Lying, thieving, mudaks… all of them. But, we must forget and move on. They're gone and we're still here. That's all that matters."
"Net, Nikolai, they will never be gone. You can not erase thousands of years of humanity. They will eventually come back, rebuild their torn world, and continue with the same shit they were doing before the War. Then, history will repeat itself, and they will destroy this world once more."
"Well, until then, to life," Nikolai said, raising his glass to toast.
"To life," Aleksander agreed, clinking his glass against Nikolai's.
With the toast and the clinking of glasses, the two downed their shots of vodka. Aleksander shuddered as the liquor poured down his throat. Vodka always did that to him.
Nikolai laughed at his companion's reaction to the drink, "Chto ne tak? What's wrong, Aleksander? Are you becoming weak sitting behind that desk?"
"Ha, you're funny, Nikolai," Aleksander scoffed as he set his glass down, "Enough about politics and alcohol. What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"
Nikolai set his glass down and leaned forward, his friendly expression gone and replaced with a serious look, "A runner arrived just a few minutes ago. He says he has an important offer for you from an important client that would like to open up a deal that would be, as he put it, 'beneficial to both parties'."
"Really?" Aleksander asked, leaning back in his chair and overlapping his hands on his stomach, "And where did this runner come from and who is this 'important client'."
"That's just it; the runner wouldn't tell us where he came from or who wanted to make this deal. He just said he was ordered to speak to you only."
Aleksander became more serious at the information, "Really?"
"Da."
Aleksander nodded, "Well, please, send this runner in so I can speak to him."
Nikolai replied with a nod as he stood and left the office. After a few minutes alone, Aleksander was soon joined by a man dressed in a khaki tunic with bellowed hip pockets, khaki breeches, hardened leather pauldrons, black leather fingerless gloves, arm wraps, brown boots and khaki puttees. It was obviously made with the desert environment in mind and it was obviously the armor of an NCR trooper. Aleksander has seen them before; one or two patrols would walk past his gang's fort, but they would never approach them.
The soldier walked to the front of the desk and saluted Aleksander, "Sir!"
Aleksander, although flattered by it, waved off the salute and gestured for the soldier to sit down. Aleksander himself was no longer a soldier; he didn't accept salutes from his fellow gang members. Although, the salute brought back great memories from his past when he served in the Russian military as a Spetsnaz operator and helped people whose governments didn't want to help them. Yes, his own government condemned his actions, but he continued to do so regardless of what his tyrannical government said and, when he was discharged for insubordination, he still continued to help many people across the world… at least, until the Great War… The NCR trooper took the wave off of his salute with shock and sat in one of the chairs.
The two sat there for a minute, examining each other. Finally, Aleksander addressed the man, "Would you like a drink, mister…?"
The soldier broke his gaze and answered, "Uh, Reynolds. Private Gregory Reynolds, sir, and, yes, I would like a drink, sir."
"Please, none of that 'sir' stuff. Just call me 'Aleksander'," Aleksander said as he dug into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of purified water. He handed the water to the soldier, who took it with pleasure and began gulping it down.
"Thank you," Reynolds gasped in between gulps.
"No problem. Now, can you tell me about this 'deal' you have to offer?"
The runner took the bottle away from his lips for the first time in a couple minutes, "Oh, um, I can't offer you the deal."
Aleksander laughed a hearty laugh, "Well, my boy, if you aren't going to offer me this deal, then who is?"
The soldier looked at Aleksander, "President Tandi of the New California Republic."
Fort Freedom, a few miles south of the Boneyard, Aleksander Lebedev's Office
June 18, 2247
Aleksander sat back in his chair, puffing on a cigar and examining yet another requisition form from a caravanning company requesting guards for an especially large shipment. A lot of caravanning companies were asking for a lot of firepower lately. Aleksander thought that it must have something to do with the Vipers and Jackals the NCR was pushing back and eliminating. He wouldn't know; other gangs would avoid the Stallions as much as they could.
"Let's see what have here," Aleksander said to himself as he examined the form, "Four crates of standard Service Rifles with ten rifles a piece. Five crates of 5.56 Amor Piercing ammunition, totaling to ten thousand rounds in each crate. Two crates of Mark Two hand grenades, totaling to one hundred grenades. Wow, this is a lot of firepower," Aleksander laughed, looking down the list as it named more and more weapons, "How the fuck are they going to transport all of this?" He looked further down and found the Mode of Transportation field; there was a stamp over the field that read Classified. Aleksander scoffed, "This most be a shipment from the NCR if they don't want me to know how they're going to transport all of this equipment."
The New California Republic had become a major powerhouse in the Wasteland a few short years after its creation. It was dedicated to Old World values that many Pre-War countries supposedly held. Values specifically stated in their former country's, the United States of America, constitution; values such as democracy, justice, and the rule of law. So far, they were doing a better job at holding these values than their Pre-War counter part who completely abandoned their values for resources.
Aleksander's train of thought was interrupted by a grunt who burst through his office door. The grunt, out of breath and gasping, addressed his commander, "Mister Lebedev, three Vertibirds just landed a few meters away from the fort and a few soldiers are at our gates."
"Vertibirds?" Aleksander asked curiously. The only people who had access to that type of transportation was the Enclave and the Brotherhood of Steel. But, what would they want with the Stallions? "Do you know who they are?"
"Judging from their armor… I would say NCR, sir."
"NCR?" Aleksander asked, surprised. How could the NCR get a hold of Veritbirds?
"Yes. They say they would like to speak with you."
Aleksander leaned back and scratched his chin. Maybe that "deal" Aleksander was told about almost a year ago was going to finally be discussed.
"Let them in and tell Nikolai to some see me at once."
"Yes, sir," the gang member left the room.
Aleksander laid the requisition form on his desk and stood from his chair, smothering his cigar in an ash tray. He removed three glasses from the shelf and set them on the table. Then, he dug into his refrigerator and removed the bottle of vodka. Uncorking the bottle, he poured three shots; one for himself, one for Nikolai, and the other for their guest. As Aleksander finished pouring the last shot, Nikolai walked into the room.
"What is it, Aleksander?" Nikolai asked, walking towards the desk.
"Remember that NCR runner from a year ago?" Aleksander asked, returning his friend's question with another question. He then sat down and waited for an answer.
"How could I forget?" Nikolai sat in one of the chairs in front of Aleksander.
"Well, it turns out that President Tandi of the NCR wanted to make deal with us and, now, I believe she's finally here to do so. Since you're my second in command, I wanted you here to hear out the deal."
"I would be honored."
At that moment, the door to the office opened once more and in stepped a woman. She was dressed in an old black suit with a skirt that was knee's length. Her hair was a faded gray and her face was wrinkled, all were the effects of old age. But, her age did not slow her actions or mind. Aleksander heard about President Tandi; one of the greatest leaders across the Wasteland. She was responsible for the NCR's greatness that it now basked in. The president walked over to the ghouls, looking rather surprised at the two, and extended a hand.
"President Tandi of the new California Republic," she said with a small smile, "And you must be-"
"Aleksander Lebedev," Aleksander said, introducing himself and shaking the president's hand. He then turned and introduced his friend, "And this is my second in command, Nikolai Betkovsky."
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Tandi said, extending another hand to Nikolai."
"Yes, it is a pleasure," Nikolai agreed, standing, smiling, and shaking Tandi's hand.
"Please, have a seat," Aleksander gestured to the open seat.
President Tandi nodded and gladly took it. They all sat down in their chairs, ready for the meeting.
"President Tandi," Aleksander picked up one of the shots and gestured it to her, "Would like a drink?"
President Tandi nodded and silently said, "Thank you," as she took the glass handed to her by Aleksander.
Aleksander handed Nikolai his glass and took up his own. They all downed their shots; Nikolai and Aleksander took their shots with gusto while Tandi winced as the hard liquor trickled down her throat.
Aleksander laughed, "The vodka, it kicks everyone's ass, da?"
Tandi nodded as she sat the glass down and moved on with the meeting, "Now, Mister Lebedev, Mister Butkovsky, I am here on official business for the NCR," she said with seriousness in her voice.
"And what exactly is this business?" Aleksander asked, leaning on his desk, "You've kept us in suspense for a year, President Tandi. We received word about this deal and meeting a year ago and, when you didn't show up, I was beginning to think you had forgotten and wasn't coming."
She nodded understandingly, "Sorry for the delay, Mister Lebedev. I've been preoccupied with some… other… important business."
Aleksander remembered the form on his desk and tapped his finger on it, "Would it perhaps, have something to do with this?"
President Tandi looked at the form and picked it up, examining it. After a few minutes, she addressed Aleksander again, "Yes, it does," she set the form aside. "The NCR is, currently, in a conflict with a very powerful and malicious enemy who threatens the security of the Wasteland.
"And who is this enemy?"
"The Enclave."
The Enclave, Aleksander thought to himself, The government of one of the bastard countries that caused the destruction of the world.
"What do you wish us to do against the Enclave?" Nikolai asked, bewildered at how the Stallions could help in such a conflict, "We surely don't have the firepower or manpower to fight them. We're only caravan guards and the like. If we fight the Enclave head on, they will destroy us, our men, and our base.
"I know you're not as well equipped to fight the Enclave and I'm not asking you to fight for us. We can fight the Enclave with the bulk of our soldiers, but that will leave our towns and trade routes heavily unprotected. That's where you and your gang come in."
"I don't think this is a good idea," Nikolai commented, disagreeing with the entire thing. He was about to make another statement before Aleksander interrupted him.
"No," Aleksander said, raising his hand to silence Nikolai, "This is a great idea, President Tandi."
"But, Aleksander-" the leader raised his hand again, silencing Nikolai once more.
"Enough, Nikolai. It is a wonderful idea and, hopefully, with our help, the Wasteland will be rid of one more tyrannical faction. We will assist you, president Tandi. I will dispatch units to NCR settlements and station them along key trade routes; you will have our full support."
President Tandi smiled, "That's wonderful news, Mister Lebedev. How soon can we expect your men to arrive?"
"Within the next few days. Now, I don't expect any money or any other type of payment for this," Aleksander leaned in, looked President Tandi in the eyes, and said, "But, I want you to promise me two things; one: you destroy the tyrannical Enclave and make sure none of them threaten the freedom of the Wastes anymore."
"That can be done. What's the other promise?"
"The other promise is that you do not let the nation you've created become like the Pre-War countries. Uphold your values and beliefs at all costs and do not drop them for meaningless resources. Can you promise me that?" Aleksander asked, a tear in the corner of his eye, "I've gone through that pain once; the pain of countries leaving everything behind; their values, their beliefs... their citizens… They left it all behind for land, oil, coal, uranium; things that would only last a few hundred years. Your citizens and your values will carry on for a lot longer, but the countries of old seemed to have forgotten that. Please, don't you forget it too.
It was a horrible pain to feel, President Tandi, when your country leaves you and your family for dead; all for material resources and more land. I do not want to suffer through it again and I do not want anyone else to have to suffer through the pain I've been living with for hundreds of years. Just promise me that your country will never forget what makes it great; its citizens and values."
President Tandi nodded, "I promise."
Aleksander smiled softly and wiped away the tear that was on the corner of his eye, "Great. Thank you, President Tandi, and I hope your war with the Enclave goes well." The two stood from their seats and exchanged hand shakes once more.
"No, thank you, Mister Lebedev. I'm sure your assistance will greatly help our chances and no one will ever know that you're doing this; for security reasons, of course," Tandi said as she nodded once to Nikolai and headed for the door.
"Da, I understand, President Tandi. Have a wonderful flight back to Shady Sands."
Tandi left the room, leaving Nikolai and Aleksander alone. Nikolai turned to his leader, shocked and in disbelief, "Aleksander, you surely don't think we can take on the Enclave?"
"That's exactly what I think, Nikolai, and if we can't do it, then we must at least try."
"But, Aleksander, they have superior weaponry and training. We would be torn apart."
Aleksander raised his hand and calmly said, "Enough, Nikolai. I will hear no more doubt from you. If you have lack in faith, please, keep it to yourself so as not to decrease our men's morale."
"But, what reason is there to attack such a powerful enemy?"
"Nikolai," Aleksander leaned forward and began to examine the requisition form again, "The Enclave is a tyrannical faction that only cares for the preservation of their government; not the people. It would be foolish to stand aside and watch them torment citizens of their own country for resources. Net, they can not be allowed to do it again. Something needs to be done and I'm glad the NCR and President Tandi see it that way too. Now, enough of your doubts. Go about your duties; we have to organize defensive positions for the NCR settlements and trade routes."
Nikolai stood there for a moment, nodded, and, reluctantly, left Aleksander in his office with only his thoughts.
The Enclave… they were the Post-War version of the American government. They were dedicated to preserving America and they did a damn good job at it; attacking anyone that sees things different from them and grab up any and all resources for themselves. Aleksander was sick of them… he hated them for what they were doing. Agendas, such as the Enclave's, were the whole reason the world is like it is now. Aleksander hated them for it…