Categories > Games > StarFox > The Saurian Gambit
Chapter 5: Stranded.
Brian slowly gained consciousness, and regretted every moment of it. Every facet of his body screamed with pain, and he felt a monster of a headache and headrush coming on, which felt strange to him. His vision wavered, the only thing his eyes could process were a neverending parade of light and dark blurs. Where was he?
Instantly, the 'mission' came to mind. They were escaping Sazbo. Had they found them, somehow, during the storm? They couldn't have. He would have been killed if Sazbo's men found him. He was alive, but what happened?
His ears started to function right, the dull ringing he was unaware he was hearing fading into a dull chime; the door chime of the BMW. It was an annoying sound, pulsing into his ears, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He was still in the car, at least. He also realized he was upside-down, the seat belt holding him firmly in place. That was where the headrush came from, and probably the headache as well.
After a few moments, his vision returned. The interior of the BMW beckoned to him, its plush leather and warm walnut trim suffering little from whatever accident he had been in. The airbag had deployed, and all the glass he could see had been busted, showering everything inside with shards of safety glass. Their personal effects had been tossed all over the car, and Brian could see no sign of Sergey or Ron, except for the back door being open.
The scene outside of the car was surreal. Brian was expecting Swiss farmland, and got an expanse of bluish-gray stone. He was in an immense chamber of some sort, but how? How could he have gone from a rural road north of Zürich... to this? The situation served to confuse him, but if he was to find a way out of this, he needed to get moving.
With a grunt, Brian undid the seat belt, and fell to the 'ceiling' of the BMW. His head pounded with the effort, and his brain threatened to black out again. However, he forced himself to concentrate, and slowly shook all the cobwebs from his head. His face felt tight and crusty; when he wiped his cheek, flakes of dried blood fell from it, staining his hand and the interior of the car.
Brian crawled out from the car and used its frame to help himself to a standing position. Afterwards, he took a better look at the chamber before him. Its bluish stone expanse was easily fifty yards in diameter, a stone circular 'tower' of sorts which was at least two hundred feet to the top of the open ceiling. It was raining outside, yet none of it seemed to be pooling down at the bottom, strangely enough. A massive, translucent lavender crystal was the centerpiece of the chamber. Brian noticed it was supported on a large, ornate chamber, but he couldn't figure out if it were functional or merely decoration.
As an afterthought, Brian reached under his rumpled suit jacket, feeling for his P14. It wasn't there. Stifling a wince, he checked the other side of his shoulder holster, feeling for the pistol's three spare magazines which were also not present. He had been searched and his handgun taken, probably by Sergey or Ron, in search of all the extra firepower they could have.
Brian glanced toward the trunk. It was open as well , and their spare HK G36 rifle and ammo were gone. This didn't bode well for Brian, who was caught almost defenseless. "Dammit!" he growled, as he looked inside the trunk. All which remained inside was a collapsible riot baton, something Jakob always carried as a backup. Brian and the others always made fun of it, but at the moment that was all he had. Sighing, he clipped the baton to his belt.
Brian wished Jakob was still around. His cool, calm demeanor even under fire always managed to keep Brian's head level under stress, as well. Yet his friend was now dead, and he was left alone and in the strangest of places. Brian had to keep his wits about him. Taking a deep breath, he peered inside the car once again, and a dull glint of metal caught his eye underneath the passenger seat.
Brian reached underneath the seat, and blinked as his hand closed over something blocky. He brought the recovered object into the light, and found himself holding Jakob's Glock 17. He grinned at this, ejecting the magazine of the pistol. Twelve rounds were left in the pistol, and one in the chamber meant he had thirteen at his disposal.
Brian blinked, and reached for the glove compartment, curling his fingers around the handle and opening it. A loud clatter ensued, as its contents emptied out onto the ceiling of the car... extra magazines for the Glock. Brian counted seven of them stashed away, and soon he added them to the magazine holders in his holster as well as his pockets. A quick count revealed he had a little over 130 shots. That should see him through just about anything.
Now armed, Brian stepped away from the wrecked BMW, and took another close look at the tower he was in. It seemed to have three levels built into it, balconies overlooking the large pit he was in. Several strange platforms were spaced throughout the pit, the closest of which was just several yards away. Brian slowly approached it, and placed a hand upon it.
His hand was forced upwards in a rush of air which nearly knocked him flat on his butt. With a yelp, he jumped back, surveying the platform once again. "Damned if I do, and damned if I don't." He sighed, and took a running jump onto the platform. Brian was propelled into the air, and was drifted into the next platform. He hung there for a moment, before he was pushed upwards... just hanging on for the ride.
Eventually, Brian was ejected into the top balcony, catching his breath before standing up. He glanced around, noticing several doors and walkways set into the stone walls around him. The nearest walkway beckoned to him, a large affair with stone pillars set into the sides. That in itself was a starnge architectural feature, but enabled him to keep to the shadows, just in case he was spotted by someone... or something. The place seemed inhuman; the design of this structure forboding to his very soul.
Brian was shaken out of his thoughts, as he heard soft footsteps resound down the hallway. Immediately, he pulled out his Glock and ducked behind a pillar, preparing himself for anything else which might come his way. However, nothing prepared him for what was about to happen...
Brian slowly gained consciousness, and regretted every moment of it. Every facet of his body screamed with pain, and he felt a monster of a headache and headrush coming on, which felt strange to him. His vision wavered, the only thing his eyes could process were a neverending parade of light and dark blurs. Where was he?
Instantly, the 'mission' came to mind. They were escaping Sazbo. Had they found them, somehow, during the storm? They couldn't have. He would have been killed if Sazbo's men found him. He was alive, but what happened?
His ears started to function right, the dull ringing he was unaware he was hearing fading into a dull chime; the door chime of the BMW. It was an annoying sound, pulsing into his ears, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He was still in the car, at least. He also realized he was upside-down, the seat belt holding him firmly in place. That was where the headrush came from, and probably the headache as well.
After a few moments, his vision returned. The interior of the BMW beckoned to him, its plush leather and warm walnut trim suffering little from whatever accident he had been in. The airbag had deployed, and all the glass he could see had been busted, showering everything inside with shards of safety glass. Their personal effects had been tossed all over the car, and Brian could see no sign of Sergey or Ron, except for the back door being open.
The scene outside of the car was surreal. Brian was expecting Swiss farmland, and got an expanse of bluish-gray stone. He was in an immense chamber of some sort, but how? How could he have gone from a rural road north of Zürich... to this? The situation served to confuse him, but if he was to find a way out of this, he needed to get moving.
With a grunt, Brian undid the seat belt, and fell to the 'ceiling' of the BMW. His head pounded with the effort, and his brain threatened to black out again. However, he forced himself to concentrate, and slowly shook all the cobwebs from his head. His face felt tight and crusty; when he wiped his cheek, flakes of dried blood fell from it, staining his hand and the interior of the car.
Brian crawled out from the car and used its frame to help himself to a standing position. Afterwards, he took a better look at the chamber before him. Its bluish stone expanse was easily fifty yards in diameter, a stone circular 'tower' of sorts which was at least two hundred feet to the top of the open ceiling. It was raining outside, yet none of it seemed to be pooling down at the bottom, strangely enough. A massive, translucent lavender crystal was the centerpiece of the chamber. Brian noticed it was supported on a large, ornate chamber, but he couldn't figure out if it were functional or merely decoration.
As an afterthought, Brian reached under his rumpled suit jacket, feeling for his P14. It wasn't there. Stifling a wince, he checked the other side of his shoulder holster, feeling for the pistol's three spare magazines which were also not present. He had been searched and his handgun taken, probably by Sergey or Ron, in search of all the extra firepower they could have.
Brian glanced toward the trunk. It was open as well , and their spare HK G36 rifle and ammo were gone. This didn't bode well for Brian, who was caught almost defenseless. "Dammit!" he growled, as he looked inside the trunk. All which remained inside was a collapsible riot baton, something Jakob always carried as a backup. Brian and the others always made fun of it, but at the moment that was all he had. Sighing, he clipped the baton to his belt.
Brian wished Jakob was still around. His cool, calm demeanor even under fire always managed to keep Brian's head level under stress, as well. Yet his friend was now dead, and he was left alone and in the strangest of places. Brian had to keep his wits about him. Taking a deep breath, he peered inside the car once again, and a dull glint of metal caught his eye underneath the passenger seat.
Brian reached underneath the seat, and blinked as his hand closed over something blocky. He brought the recovered object into the light, and found himself holding Jakob's Glock 17. He grinned at this, ejecting the magazine of the pistol. Twelve rounds were left in the pistol, and one in the chamber meant he had thirteen at his disposal.
Brian blinked, and reached for the glove compartment, curling his fingers around the handle and opening it. A loud clatter ensued, as its contents emptied out onto the ceiling of the car... extra magazines for the Glock. Brian counted seven of them stashed away, and soon he added them to the magazine holders in his holster as well as his pockets. A quick count revealed he had a little over 130 shots. That should see him through just about anything.
Now armed, Brian stepped away from the wrecked BMW, and took another close look at the tower he was in. It seemed to have three levels built into it, balconies overlooking the large pit he was in. Several strange platforms were spaced throughout the pit, the closest of which was just several yards away. Brian slowly approached it, and placed a hand upon it.
His hand was forced upwards in a rush of air which nearly knocked him flat on his butt. With a yelp, he jumped back, surveying the platform once again. "Damned if I do, and damned if I don't." He sighed, and took a running jump onto the platform. Brian was propelled into the air, and was drifted into the next platform. He hung there for a moment, before he was pushed upwards... just hanging on for the ride.
Eventually, Brian was ejected into the top balcony, catching his breath before standing up. He glanced around, noticing several doors and walkways set into the stone walls around him. The nearest walkway beckoned to him, a large affair with stone pillars set into the sides. That in itself was a starnge architectural feature, but enabled him to keep to the shadows, just in case he was spotted by someone... or something. The place seemed inhuman; the design of this structure forboding to his very soul.
Brian was shaken out of his thoughts, as he heard soft footsteps resound down the hallway. Immediately, he pulled out his Glock and ducked behind a pillar, preparing himself for anything else which might come his way. However, nothing prepared him for what was about to happen...
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