Categories > Games > StarFox > The Saurian Gambit
Chapter 8: A Looming Threat.
Nikolai Sazbo was not just angry; the Serbian gunrunner was downright pissed. They had chased the loathsome thieves out of Zürich, but with five million euro in their possession, he was angry. After a freak accident, here they were. Sazbo and four of his top lieutenants were stuck on some sort of flying sea galleon, surrounded by strange lizards who barely tolerated their presence.
Sazbo smirked at that, as he looked around the wheelhouse where they had set up 'shop.' They were well-armed, even still. Each of his top men(and one woman) were armed to the teeth. The only thing stopping them from simply killing every living thing on the vessel was the fact the blue fox who seemed to be running the show had told them he was their only way back home.
Nikola Petrovic, the man to his left, looked around. Like Sazbo and the others, he was dressed in an expensive Italian silk suit, which was supposed to let them blend into the high-class Zürich neighborhood where the bank had been. The only differences were the AKS-74 rifles balanced on their laps, and the belts full of magazines for the deadly 5.45mm assault rifles around their waists.
["It is such a shame."] Nikola muttered, waving around the flying ship. ["Such a primitive place. And they say they need us as their... handymen?"] He spat to one side, expressing his disdain for the situation they were in. ["Are we not brethren in battle, fighting for our rightful lands? We are, yet we have foreign filth stealing from us, and aliens keeping us as pawns in their games!"]
Karina Haravan held out a hand towards Nikola, motioning for him to stop. He did immediately with a nod towards her. Not only was Karina a model femme fatale, standing at nearly six feet and possessing the body of an athlete; she was also Sazbo's second in command. ["Nikola."] The word was command enough.
The other two men didn't say a word, yet they continued to stay vigilant. Milorad Kojic and Draza Cavoski never said much, yet they were fiercely loyal, and some of the best tactical minds Sazbo knew. As a team, the five of them were almost unstoppable. Even in their strange situation, Sazbo could count on his men to follow him to Hell if he needed it... and it seemed as if they weren't too far from it.
Sazbo shook his head, standing up and taking a short stroll to the railing of the galleon. The night air was warm, but not that humid. It was similar to a decent midsummer's night, with only alien constellations to ruin the experience. He shifted his AK74, the rifle giving a reassuring weight to his grip.
They had wrecked the Audi several hours ago after following Borodin and his charges into that freak storm. They had ended up on a beach, and quickly gathered what they could until they were set upon by some of those lizards. Their melee tactics had proven no match for the battle-hardened Serbs and the vast firepower their rifles gave them. However, two others appeared and called a truce. One of them seemed to be the leader of the band of lizards, and the other a blue-furred fox, as if it had stepped from a comic book.
Sazbo and his soldiers thought it strange, but they were allowed to keep their weapons, and were soon ushered onto the ship. One of the lizards spoke English, albeit rather badly; while his entire team knew English fairly well, they feigned ignorance of it, leaving Sazbo to the talking. They were told to wait, which kept them occupied with their thoughts. Sazbo thought it was a rudimentary scare tactic, one which wasn't working on his highly-disciplined soldiers.
The thump of heavy footsteps resounded behind Sazbo, causing him to turn around. The AK74 was a reassuring weight in his hands, as he saw the English-speaking lizard walk up the stairs towards the wheelhouse. His team almost sprung into action; keeping the same lax expression, yet he saw hands tightening around their rifles. If the lizard made a wrong move, he would be covered.
The lizard didn't look any different to Sazbo. It stood roughly chest-high, and was extremely stocky. It would be a challenging opponent if he had to resort to getting in close. Yet, it had rudimentary armor, and it was armed with only a spiked club. It spoke in rather bad English, but it got the point across. "You. You isss Sssazzbo?"
"Da." Sazbo replied curtly. He caught the lizard sizing him up, as he just did. Sazbo stood at a shade over six feet tall; the stocky build of a hardened soldier showed through even the plush, decadent suit. He had kept his head completely shaved, adding to the effect. Sazbo's ice-blue eyes were locked on the lizard's obsidian gaze, offering a mute challenge.
The lizard didn't react, much to its credit. "You isss... wanted now. Follow me. Jussst you."
Draza and Milorad started to stand up, but a wave from Sazbo caused them to sit back down. ["Stay put. If you hear my weapon fire, then you know what to do."]
The lizard blinked, and looked over to the team. "What you sssay?" he asked Sazbo.
Sazbo shook his head. "I told them to stay where they are." It wasn't a complete lie, but he was safe in the fact they were probably the only people on the planet, besides Borodin, who spoke Serbian.
The lizard nodded, and strode across the deck, Sazbo in tow. He had noticed the multitude of crates haphazardly stacked on the ship. They were supplies of some sort, obviously. That brought him to the sudden realization none of them had eaten all day. It was a minor discomfort, although securing supplies would be crucial in the future.
They arrived at the front of the ship, in front of a large wooden door. Torchlight illuminated the area, rather than the lanterns which the wheelhouse used. The lizard walked up to the door, and pointed to it. "You go in now. Boss isss waiting for you."
Sazbo sighed, and grasped the rough iron handle with his left hand, somewhat surprised at its heft. The door was heavy and thick, taking a bit of force to open. Yet, he stepped in, making sure the AK74 was on hand if he needed to use it.
The room was fairly well-furnished. A large table graced its center, square in design and strewn with the remains of some sort of meal, as well as various documents and maps. The walls were decorated with metal shields, each displaying a unique symbol which was illegible to him.
There were two others in the room, Sazbo immediately taking notice of the lizard chief sitting at the head of the table. He was easily eight feet tall, his dark gaze radiating of barely-repressed hate and malevolence. He also was missing his left hand; replaced by a pair of rather nasty blades. Sazbo himself felt a slight bit of nervousness, but he would make sure he would put up a fight if need be.
The blue fox was present as well. Dressed in a loosely-fitting shirt and trousers, he seemed relatively normal, if you did not count the fact he was a blue-furred fox. He had several intricate piercings through his ears, and a golden circlet was settled upon his head; capped with a scarlet jewel of some sort. He noticed Sazbo, and offered a nod towards him. "Please, take a seat." The fox's voice was articulate and polite, in comparison to the rough demeanor of the lizard chief.
Sazbo surprised himself by sliding into the wooden chair at the end of the table. He propped the AK74 against the table, glancing to his two 'hosts'. Neither seemed to make a reaction to the presence of his rifle, but Sazbo made sure he had as much of a bargaining chip as he could. He would get down to business right there and then. "Now that we've had a chance to meet, I'd like to know why, exactly, are we here?"
The fox started to speak, but was silenced by a wave from the chief. His tone was harsh, but Sazbo wasn't entirely impressed. "You're not going to be changing anything about it, so you had better do as you're told. If not, expect to stay here for good."
Sazbo glared at the large reptile, a silent standoff ensuing for a moment, until he spoke. When he did, his voice was that of the cold, calculated soldier who had participated in the killing of thousands. "You do not order us around, that point I will make clear to you. If you threaten us again, I will make sure that nobody leaves this airship alive... and I will kill you personally."
The fox didn't seem to be fazed by Sazbo's threat, although this served to enrage the reptile. "Are you challenging me, weakling? I, General Scales, will wipe you from existence personally!" Scales stood up to his nearly eight foot height and delivered a swat to the table, causing it to jerk violently and send Sazbo's AK74 skittering to the deck with a clatter.
Sazbo didn't miss a beat. He kicked the chair back from the table while his hand shot underneath his suit coat, producing the Springfield XD pistol he carried. Instantly, he snapped it into a firing position, its sights leveled on Scales. Still, the massive Sharpclaw advanced towards the Serbian gunrunner, as his finger tightened on the trigger.
A voice seemingly roared out of nowhere. "Stop this insolence at once, both of you!" The fox had stood up, a thin, obsidian rod extending in his paw as if it had materialized there. The rod was capped by a ruby, which was surrounded by what looked like a spearhead. For a melee weapon, it appeared very deadly. However, Scales stopped and glanced toward the fox.
"If we do not teach these ones a lesson, Meran, we will not be able to control them! Stay out of this!" Scales gestured towards Sazbo, who had relaxed his trigger finger just a bit.
The fox shook his head, and pointed the staff towards Scales. "That is not the way to meet our ends, Scales. Let me deal with this little problem personally, and without damaging relations." Meran sighed, and motioned Scales to the door, which he reluctantly did. Sazbo continued to track the General with his pistol until he left.
Sazbo glanced to the fox, before sliding the XD back into its holster. Afterwards, he sighed and motioned toward the door. "Your comrade just might be on the receiving end of a bullet if he does not curb his anger."
Meran shrugged, before sliding his staff behind his back. Mysteriously, it seemed to collapse to fit inside a pocket sewn into his shirt, but that wasn't Sazbo's concern at the moment. "General Scales is very crude, yes... but he does have his uses. Scales has enabled me to strike against my enemies, and do so quite well."
Sazbo arched an eyebrow toward the blue fox, and shook his head. "I don't understand, then. Why should we consider working for you, and why would you need us in the first place?"
Meran grinned towards Sazbo, one which somehow shook the Serbian to his core. He knew right then he had stepped into the point of no return. Scales was dangerous, yes... but this Meran was far more cunning than Scales ever hoped to be. "I know what you want, Nikolai Sazbo. You had currency stolen from you by three men, who once worked for you. You want that currency back... and you want those three men dead for their theft."
Sazbo's eyes widened. He had never discussed this with anyone outside his team. "How... how did you know? Do you... have one of them here?" This fox was becoming a little more unnerving to him, but he decided to stay put and hear him out.
Meran shook his head. "I don't, no. But, to me, your thoughts are fairly clear. You had worked out a plan to take over the ship had Scales attacked you, and you would have been successful at it. There are reasons I need Scales, but there is now a bit of a complication I need taken care of, before he takes advantage of it."
Sazbo sighed. "I still don't know what we are involved in. You're acting like some kind of mind reader. If you are in actuality that powerful, why not take care of this, this 'complication' yourself? Why would you need our help in doing it?"
Meran took a deep breath, before looking to the door. Slowly, he took a few steps toward Sazbo, and began speaking in a hushed tone. "Long ago, I was a powerful... 'politician' in your words, on my home planet. Many of us had mental abilities far beyond the capabilities of anyone else. I disclosed a powerful secret to the Council... the secret of dimensional teleportation. I thought it would help our race achieve a higher standard of living... learning from other cultures, gaining experiences beyond compare." The vulpine grinned almost insanely, as he continued.
"The Council thought I was a fool, and then after completing my first experiment, I managed to bring one of your kind to Cerinia. I had even managed to get him to come out of his own free will! Yet, the damned Haleths believed it to be too dangerous, and they managed to exile me. It has taken me years, but I have finally had my revenge... except for one complication."
Sazbo blinked, and took a step back from Meran. "Are you telling me that you managed to... teleport my team and I to this world, just to help you remove a 'complication' from it? This is absurd. However, let me guess... if we don't do this job for you, then we will never see our homeland, correct?"
Meran nodded. "Yet, as compensation, I will do my best to provide to you the men who had stolen from you. I will allow you to kill them, as long as you do this little job for me. There is another Cerinian... a being such as myself, on this planet. Scales wants her alive, for his own uses... which aren't what I have in mind. I need for you to kill her. No fuss, no real challenge. Her life, in exchange for a ticket home. That is what I offer."
Nikolai Sazbo was not just angry; the Serbian gunrunner was downright pissed. They had chased the loathsome thieves out of Zürich, but with five million euro in their possession, he was angry. After a freak accident, here they were. Sazbo and four of his top lieutenants were stuck on some sort of flying sea galleon, surrounded by strange lizards who barely tolerated their presence.
Sazbo smirked at that, as he looked around the wheelhouse where they had set up 'shop.' They were well-armed, even still. Each of his top men(and one woman) were armed to the teeth. The only thing stopping them from simply killing every living thing on the vessel was the fact the blue fox who seemed to be running the show had told them he was their only way back home.
Nikola Petrovic, the man to his left, looked around. Like Sazbo and the others, he was dressed in an expensive Italian silk suit, which was supposed to let them blend into the high-class Zürich neighborhood where the bank had been. The only differences were the AKS-74 rifles balanced on their laps, and the belts full of magazines for the deadly 5.45mm assault rifles around their waists.
["It is such a shame."] Nikola muttered, waving around the flying ship. ["Such a primitive place. And they say they need us as their... handymen?"] He spat to one side, expressing his disdain for the situation they were in. ["Are we not brethren in battle, fighting for our rightful lands? We are, yet we have foreign filth stealing from us, and aliens keeping us as pawns in their games!"]
Karina Haravan held out a hand towards Nikola, motioning for him to stop. He did immediately with a nod towards her. Not only was Karina a model femme fatale, standing at nearly six feet and possessing the body of an athlete; she was also Sazbo's second in command. ["Nikola."] The word was command enough.
The other two men didn't say a word, yet they continued to stay vigilant. Milorad Kojic and Draza Cavoski never said much, yet they were fiercely loyal, and some of the best tactical minds Sazbo knew. As a team, the five of them were almost unstoppable. Even in their strange situation, Sazbo could count on his men to follow him to Hell if he needed it... and it seemed as if they weren't too far from it.
Sazbo shook his head, standing up and taking a short stroll to the railing of the galleon. The night air was warm, but not that humid. It was similar to a decent midsummer's night, with only alien constellations to ruin the experience. He shifted his AK74, the rifle giving a reassuring weight to his grip.
They had wrecked the Audi several hours ago after following Borodin and his charges into that freak storm. They had ended up on a beach, and quickly gathered what they could until they were set upon by some of those lizards. Their melee tactics had proven no match for the battle-hardened Serbs and the vast firepower their rifles gave them. However, two others appeared and called a truce. One of them seemed to be the leader of the band of lizards, and the other a blue-furred fox, as if it had stepped from a comic book.
Sazbo and his soldiers thought it strange, but they were allowed to keep their weapons, and were soon ushered onto the ship. One of the lizards spoke English, albeit rather badly; while his entire team knew English fairly well, they feigned ignorance of it, leaving Sazbo to the talking. They were told to wait, which kept them occupied with their thoughts. Sazbo thought it was a rudimentary scare tactic, one which wasn't working on his highly-disciplined soldiers.
The thump of heavy footsteps resounded behind Sazbo, causing him to turn around. The AK74 was a reassuring weight in his hands, as he saw the English-speaking lizard walk up the stairs towards the wheelhouse. His team almost sprung into action; keeping the same lax expression, yet he saw hands tightening around their rifles. If the lizard made a wrong move, he would be covered.
The lizard didn't look any different to Sazbo. It stood roughly chest-high, and was extremely stocky. It would be a challenging opponent if he had to resort to getting in close. Yet, it had rudimentary armor, and it was armed with only a spiked club. It spoke in rather bad English, but it got the point across. "You. You isss Sssazzbo?"
"Da." Sazbo replied curtly. He caught the lizard sizing him up, as he just did. Sazbo stood at a shade over six feet tall; the stocky build of a hardened soldier showed through even the plush, decadent suit. He had kept his head completely shaved, adding to the effect. Sazbo's ice-blue eyes were locked on the lizard's obsidian gaze, offering a mute challenge.
The lizard didn't react, much to its credit. "You isss... wanted now. Follow me. Jussst you."
Draza and Milorad started to stand up, but a wave from Sazbo caused them to sit back down. ["Stay put. If you hear my weapon fire, then you know what to do."]
The lizard blinked, and looked over to the team. "What you sssay?" he asked Sazbo.
Sazbo shook his head. "I told them to stay where they are." It wasn't a complete lie, but he was safe in the fact they were probably the only people on the planet, besides Borodin, who spoke Serbian.
The lizard nodded, and strode across the deck, Sazbo in tow. He had noticed the multitude of crates haphazardly stacked on the ship. They were supplies of some sort, obviously. That brought him to the sudden realization none of them had eaten all day. It was a minor discomfort, although securing supplies would be crucial in the future.
They arrived at the front of the ship, in front of a large wooden door. Torchlight illuminated the area, rather than the lanterns which the wheelhouse used. The lizard walked up to the door, and pointed to it. "You go in now. Boss isss waiting for you."
Sazbo sighed, and grasped the rough iron handle with his left hand, somewhat surprised at its heft. The door was heavy and thick, taking a bit of force to open. Yet, he stepped in, making sure the AK74 was on hand if he needed to use it.
The room was fairly well-furnished. A large table graced its center, square in design and strewn with the remains of some sort of meal, as well as various documents and maps. The walls were decorated with metal shields, each displaying a unique symbol which was illegible to him.
There were two others in the room, Sazbo immediately taking notice of the lizard chief sitting at the head of the table. He was easily eight feet tall, his dark gaze radiating of barely-repressed hate and malevolence. He also was missing his left hand; replaced by a pair of rather nasty blades. Sazbo himself felt a slight bit of nervousness, but he would make sure he would put up a fight if need be.
The blue fox was present as well. Dressed in a loosely-fitting shirt and trousers, he seemed relatively normal, if you did not count the fact he was a blue-furred fox. He had several intricate piercings through his ears, and a golden circlet was settled upon his head; capped with a scarlet jewel of some sort. He noticed Sazbo, and offered a nod towards him. "Please, take a seat." The fox's voice was articulate and polite, in comparison to the rough demeanor of the lizard chief.
Sazbo surprised himself by sliding into the wooden chair at the end of the table. He propped the AK74 against the table, glancing to his two 'hosts'. Neither seemed to make a reaction to the presence of his rifle, but Sazbo made sure he had as much of a bargaining chip as he could. He would get down to business right there and then. "Now that we've had a chance to meet, I'd like to know why, exactly, are we here?"
The fox started to speak, but was silenced by a wave from the chief. His tone was harsh, but Sazbo wasn't entirely impressed. "You're not going to be changing anything about it, so you had better do as you're told. If not, expect to stay here for good."
Sazbo glared at the large reptile, a silent standoff ensuing for a moment, until he spoke. When he did, his voice was that of the cold, calculated soldier who had participated in the killing of thousands. "You do not order us around, that point I will make clear to you. If you threaten us again, I will make sure that nobody leaves this airship alive... and I will kill you personally."
The fox didn't seem to be fazed by Sazbo's threat, although this served to enrage the reptile. "Are you challenging me, weakling? I, General Scales, will wipe you from existence personally!" Scales stood up to his nearly eight foot height and delivered a swat to the table, causing it to jerk violently and send Sazbo's AK74 skittering to the deck with a clatter.
Sazbo didn't miss a beat. He kicked the chair back from the table while his hand shot underneath his suit coat, producing the Springfield XD pistol he carried. Instantly, he snapped it into a firing position, its sights leveled on Scales. Still, the massive Sharpclaw advanced towards the Serbian gunrunner, as his finger tightened on the trigger.
A voice seemingly roared out of nowhere. "Stop this insolence at once, both of you!" The fox had stood up, a thin, obsidian rod extending in his paw as if it had materialized there. The rod was capped by a ruby, which was surrounded by what looked like a spearhead. For a melee weapon, it appeared very deadly. However, Scales stopped and glanced toward the fox.
"If we do not teach these ones a lesson, Meran, we will not be able to control them! Stay out of this!" Scales gestured towards Sazbo, who had relaxed his trigger finger just a bit.
The fox shook his head, and pointed the staff towards Scales. "That is not the way to meet our ends, Scales. Let me deal with this little problem personally, and without damaging relations." Meran sighed, and motioned Scales to the door, which he reluctantly did. Sazbo continued to track the General with his pistol until he left.
Sazbo glanced to the fox, before sliding the XD back into its holster. Afterwards, he sighed and motioned toward the door. "Your comrade just might be on the receiving end of a bullet if he does not curb his anger."
Meran shrugged, before sliding his staff behind his back. Mysteriously, it seemed to collapse to fit inside a pocket sewn into his shirt, but that wasn't Sazbo's concern at the moment. "General Scales is very crude, yes... but he does have his uses. Scales has enabled me to strike against my enemies, and do so quite well."
Sazbo arched an eyebrow toward the blue fox, and shook his head. "I don't understand, then. Why should we consider working for you, and why would you need us in the first place?"
Meran grinned towards Sazbo, one which somehow shook the Serbian to his core. He knew right then he had stepped into the point of no return. Scales was dangerous, yes... but this Meran was far more cunning than Scales ever hoped to be. "I know what you want, Nikolai Sazbo. You had currency stolen from you by three men, who once worked for you. You want that currency back... and you want those three men dead for their theft."
Sazbo's eyes widened. He had never discussed this with anyone outside his team. "How... how did you know? Do you... have one of them here?" This fox was becoming a little more unnerving to him, but he decided to stay put and hear him out.
Meran shook his head. "I don't, no. But, to me, your thoughts are fairly clear. You had worked out a plan to take over the ship had Scales attacked you, and you would have been successful at it. There are reasons I need Scales, but there is now a bit of a complication I need taken care of, before he takes advantage of it."
Sazbo sighed. "I still don't know what we are involved in. You're acting like some kind of mind reader. If you are in actuality that powerful, why not take care of this, this 'complication' yourself? Why would you need our help in doing it?"
Meran took a deep breath, before looking to the door. Slowly, he took a few steps toward Sazbo, and began speaking in a hushed tone. "Long ago, I was a powerful... 'politician' in your words, on my home planet. Many of us had mental abilities far beyond the capabilities of anyone else. I disclosed a powerful secret to the Council... the secret of dimensional teleportation. I thought it would help our race achieve a higher standard of living... learning from other cultures, gaining experiences beyond compare." The vulpine grinned almost insanely, as he continued.
"The Council thought I was a fool, and then after completing my first experiment, I managed to bring one of your kind to Cerinia. I had even managed to get him to come out of his own free will! Yet, the damned Haleths believed it to be too dangerous, and they managed to exile me. It has taken me years, but I have finally had my revenge... except for one complication."
Sazbo blinked, and took a step back from Meran. "Are you telling me that you managed to... teleport my team and I to this world, just to help you remove a 'complication' from it? This is absurd. However, let me guess... if we don't do this job for you, then we will never see our homeland, correct?"
Meran nodded. "Yet, as compensation, I will do my best to provide to you the men who had stolen from you. I will allow you to kill them, as long as you do this little job for me. There is another Cerinian... a being such as myself, on this planet. Scales wants her alive, for his own uses... which aren't what I have in mind. I need for you to kill her. No fuss, no real challenge. Her life, in exchange for a ticket home. That is what I offer."
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