THE EXILE PRINCE
Second Stave of Romances of Saskia
by RougeBaron
Author's Note
This is the sequel of Off We Go Into The Wild Blue Yonder, a three-part chronicle of Saskia and her zoid pet in the turbulent world of Planet Zi. It is set 5 years after Off We Go… ended. There is very little account about what's going on in Planet Zi on this period (Zoids Fuzors doesn't state the year, Zoids NC0 is conventionally believed to be around 200 years after Guardian Force, and Battle Story stops around 2110). There is, however, Zoids VS Video Game that tells the story after the defeat of Neo Zenebas and the construction of an elite task force Rottiger to wipe out the surviving forces of Neo Zenebas. So I'm taking some bits and pieces of Zoids VS universe and combining them with Chaotic Century, Guardian Force, Battle Story, and Zoids Fuzors, into what becomes this story.
Saskia is still the main character. In this story Saskia is 23 years old. She is more mature and stable than in the first part. Some supporting characters will also make appearance, but there will be some new characters that will take the central stage. Although I the skeleton of this story is fixed, I could use some supporting characters from fans. (I know, I know, interactive is illegal, but nobody cares anymore). So if anybody's interested, you can submit your character and zoid to my PM. DO NOT leave it as a review. That place is for readers that really care about this story and want to leave support, encouraging words, critique or criticism. Again, if you want your guy/gal with his/her zoid to be a part of this story, send it to me through PM. Be as detail as you want, I may make a sketch of him/her in my deviantArt account (for those who don't know me, I also draw scenes from my stories).
I also want to try new writing style. I have been watching a lot of Spartacus series on STARZ (now on rerun in SyFy). If you follow Spartacus the series, you'll notice a lot of influence of Spartacus in this story. Don't worry, this story is still rated T. I will leave out the violence, gore, and sex for the Director's Cut.
I hope you enjoy this second part.
Zoids and all its components are copyright of Takara, Tomy, and Hasbro. All rights reserved
PROLOGUE
Redmond's Ale Bar,
New Helic City, Helic Republic,
Delpoi Continent, Planet Zi,
November 13, 2127
It was just typical after-hour mundanity at Redmond's. It was the end of the first shift so blue- and white-collar workers intermingled in the bar with liquor as their glue. The alcoholic beverage was not special, but after a long day at the office (with horrible bosses looking over their shoulders at every possible opportunitie) everybody just absolved mediocrity. Everything looks good when you're drunk.
Alas, the monotony was broken when a man entered the bar. His attire – black shroud that covered his entire body sans his boots – immediately stood out among a sea of business casual and jacket-and-tie outfit that was the norm in the bar. His air, hanging free on the front but perking up at the back of his head in strawberry blondness, was the antithesis of typical combover hairstyle that monopolized the other customers. And his crucifix earring on his left ear highlit the fact that he didn't belong in the office or factory environment like most of the customers did.
The man stood steady at the door, sweeping the bar with his eyes, trading stare with some customers that dared to investigate him or give him prejudice look, then proceeded to the bartender. There were two empty seats, sandwiched by a group of office workers who were deep into political conversation. Upon his arrival, the office workers decided to leave the counter for a table far from the bartender. Whether they were intimidated by the stranger's presence or afraid of what they might hear, it was everyone's guess.
"What can I get you, fair gentleman?" the bartender greeted him warmly.
"Scotch, straight up," the man replied with a monotone, almost unenthusiastic manner.
"Say, what brings you Redmond's?" the bartender tried to open a conversation while mixing his drink.
"It's premature to play the snooping card at the first drink, don't you think?" the man said with a smirk.
"I did nothing as such," the bartender replied nonchalantly. He poured the mix into a glass and gave it to the stranger. "But you know what they say, in vino veritas. In wine there lies the truth. I am the only wine guy within 5 mile radius. If you are looking for peculiarities, and obviously you are, I may be able to help. It may save you considerable effort asking around."
"Now you're being prejudiced," the stranger took all liquor in one swig. "Why do you think I'm looking for peculiarities?"
"Are you saying you're not?" the bartender smiled.
"As a matter of fact, I am," the stranger yielded. "But what reward are you expecting for said service?"
"It depends on what you are looking for," the bartender's smile grew wider. "Brothel house? A few coins will suffice. I know which one to go and which one to avoid."
"Bah! Brothel house!" the stranger chuckled curtly. "I have no taste in public vaginas, much less the women that are attached to them. I am looking for a zoid." He drew a holo-video from inside his pocket and put it on the table. "A very peculiar zoid."
The holo-video lit up and a hologram of a zoid took shape. It was of a dragon shape, with hooked metallic bars as its horns, a train of white teeth adorning its overstretched sneer, assorted cannons on its neck, two large cannons and a jagged-edged disc on its wings, and a long tail with sharp blades at the tip. Six booster exhausts were attached to the hip of the zoid.
"That's a Gilvader," the bartender mused. His stare turned suspicious, and his tone became sour. "Why are you looking for this kind?"
"Do not answer my question with another question," the man snarled. His eyes flared up with unequivocal impatience. "Have you seen it or not?"
"Actually I did," the bartender was taken aback by the sudden flame. "It was five years ago, here, in New Helic City. You know what happened, do you?"
"I don't," the stranger calmed himself. He threw some money on the table. "Enlighten me."
"Five years ago the Helic Republic was in a state of despondency," the bartender collected the money. "A military rogue named General Krauser was poised to take control of the Republic. He spread lies about the Guardian Force, incited unrest among the citizens of the Republic, and even plotted a military coup to unseat the President and the Senate. But when all hopes were lost, the Gilvader appeared, reinforced by old-time war heroes, broke Krauser's plan and killed him. Days later the Gilvader and the war heroes were beatified at the palace. That was the last time anybody ever saw it."
"Who captained the Gilvader?" the stranger asked.
"Some said it was a daughter of a Helic casualty during Krauser's campaign. Nobody knew for sure. She disappeared just like the way she came: right into the mist of Delpoi."
"A girl?" the stranger leaned back on his chair. "A girl captained the Gilvader?"
"That's the only fact I have, and even so I am at the mercy of my own doubt," the bartender sighed.
"I take it that you don't know how I can ask for the presence of said girl," the stranger groused. "All you have given me is only peripheral truth that I could have deducted myself. What I want is not in your compendium of knowledge."
"Knowledge has price, my friend," the bartender leaned over toward the stranger. "I do not know where to find the girl, but I know people who do."
The stranger pulled out a single bill showing three digits on the faces. "And who might these people be?"
The bartender took the bill from the stranger's hand and put it into his pocket. "You see the vagabonds at the back table? They were among the champions that foiled General Krauser's plan to take control of the Helic Republic. They are as close as you can be to the Gilvader."
The stranger turned around to see the customers referenced by the bartender. Four young men were sitting on a table at the farthest corner from the counter, seemingly oblivious to everything around them. Two of them were tall and lean, the rest were short but with an opposite built. One of them was stocky and rotund with a lot of hair covering every inch of his skin. The other was dainty, almost like a girl if not for his thin moustache. The second tallest one inspected the bar every now and then while the rest just relaxed in the company of alcohol. If they were in a military unit, it was not hard to figure out which one of them was the leader.
"Give them your best drink," the stranger gave the bartender another bill. "Make sure they know who sent it. In the mean time, give me a refill."
The bartender prepared drinks for everybody and sent a server to carry the drinks to the back table. The foursome's reaction was as expected: surprised, confused, then suspicious. They spent a good minute talking among themselves, then the second tallest vagabond got up and, as expected, approached the stranger at the counter.
"We appreciate the gesture," he said, "but we don't know what merit we hold in the eyes of a stranger. Care to elaborate, so we don't assume you are mistaken us as someone else?"
"I ask for one small service," the stranger turned around to face the man. "Do you know the whereabouts of the Gilvader?"
"What Gilvader?" the man replied apathetically. "Gilvaders are extinct."
"I sense deceit in your words," the stranger stood up, standing almost as tall as the vagabond. "Perhaps you do not deserve the merit I assumed you were worthy of."
"And what is the purpose of this question of yours?" the vagabond replied. "What would the Gilvader serve you, if such zoid still exist?"
"That is none of your business," the stranger replied. "We both know it does exist, so let's not waste everybody's time and tell me where I can find it."
"Apologies, but you are wasting your time," the vagabond smiled. His eyes were burning with rage, an obvious result of the stranger's insult, but his self control prevailed. "Your assumption that I know the answer to your question is wrong. None here is worth your effort, including me."
The vagabond turned around but the stranger called him out, "The girl, then. Give me the girl, and I will be on my way."
By this time, the remaining three vagabonds had noticed the argument between their friend and the stranger. They left the table and gathered behind their friend. The short hairy guy even carried a beer bottle and held it by its neck like a club.
"Him bothering you, Falco?" the tallest one said.
"No, just a lost wanderer," the guy called Falco turned back around to face the stranger. His eyes still burning, and he wasn't about to hold it any longer. "Who do you think you are? Why should we answer to you?"
"Perhaps a little persuasion is due," the stranger stripped his black cloth, revealing a pack of muscles. A tattoo of a black cat inside an inverted triangle was emblazoned on the stranger's upper arm.
"Rottiger!" the girly vagabond exclaimed. "Guylos Empire's hound dogs that conduct witch hunt all over Zi! What are you doing here in Helic Republic? You are out of your jurisdiction!"
"Correction, little man, it's Guylos Empire's Special Operation Force that conduct Neo Zenebas manhunt all over Zi," the stranger replied with much swagger in his voice. "And Rottiger's jurisdiction knows no boundary. Now pay attention, peasants! My name is Royce DesGagne. I am a captain in Rottiger Special Operation Force. Not complying with my investigation demand means opposing the Rottiger, thus shall and will be eliminated."
"You are looking for Neo Zenebas at the wrong place!" Falco snapped. "I told you before, you were wasting your time! This is Helic Republic territory and whatever you are looking for is not here!"
"And yet you refused to disclose the location of the Gilvader or the pilot!" Royce snapped back. "You purposefully held the information from me, even after you know that I am a Rottiger agent!"
"Saskia is not a Neo Zenebas sympathizer!"
"Do you swear on your mother's grave?"
"Leave my mother out of this!" Falco made a dash but Royce slipped behind him with blinding speed. Falco pivoted but Royce buried his fist on Falco's lower back. A muffled sound escaped Falco's lips as his kidney throbbed. He dropped to his knees, and Royce locked his head in a choke-grip.
"So the legend is true," Royce hissed amidst Falco's gagging. "It's a girl piloting the Gilvader! Is that her name? Saskia?"
"Liberty of the bloke pronto!" the short hairy man whacked his bottle on the edge of a table and shoved the jagged edge at Royce. The Rottiger agent parried the attack without a sweat, then hooked his arms behind the short guy's head and slammed it onto the counter's table. The man slouched to the floor like a heap of flesh without bones.
"It behoves you to learn how to speak in proper manner before trying to hurt someone with a broken bottle," Royce gave up a sinister chuckle as he retrieved the bottle.
The other tall guy came to Falco's aid. He grabbed a chair and hurled it at Royce, but the Rottiger agent rolled backward, letting the chair crash into the unconscious body of the hairy man. The tall man grabbed another chair but before he had a chance to throw it Royce slid and kicked him in the knee. The tall man screamed as his leg instantaneously bent. He staggered to stand, but Royce leapt forward and slammed home a vicious hook to the jaw. The lanky body crashed to the floor.
The melee quickly turned the atmosphere into pandemonium. Customers stampeded out of the bar, and the girly guy, the last of the vagabond foursome, tried to slip away among other customers but Royce singled him out of the crowd. He grabbed the man's arm, twisted it behind his back, and forced him to lie down on the floor. Royce grabbed the broken bottle and pressed the jagged edge on his captive's throat, eliciting a horror cry from the effeminate man.
"Let's see if my demand is of your friend's worth," Royce grimaced.
"Let him go," Falco finally yielded. He staggered to get up. "I have not seen her in 5 years. She left Helic Republic for Eastern Continent. Check for ZOITEC or Zi Arms; she is a technician, she may find a job there. I swear that is everything I know!"
"I knew you would see it my way," Royce smiled and released his captive. He walked past the two unconscious men on the floor to grab his black shroud, then walked over the counter to give the bartender yet another large-amount bill. "Apologies. This is for the mess."
"Saskia is not Neo Zenebas!" Falco staggered to stand. "Why are you looking for her?"
"The nature of my mission is not for public domain," Royce sneered. "I am a Rottiger, and I have a mission to accomplish. Do not stand in my way. The consequences are severe. That's all you need to know."
With that, Royce walked out of the bar.