Civilization (I'll Stay Right Here)
By Kachimoochi
Chapter XV
I Am Running Out Of Deserving Prey
The trio remained at the gas station for around a single hour. Just as Anaximander had assumed, Anton Chigurh was indeed aware of their presence, and was closing in.
Kaisar took this opportunity to crouch on the ground, and expose his emergency solar panels within his back; all Geth possessed such panels to draw on for emergency power or overclocking.
The Prince, weary from being stuck in a skycar for a number of hours, elected to stretch his limbs. He thought it best to do so by parkouring up, down, and around the gas station. He would use his miniature gravity thrusters to support his body weight, as he walked up the walls of the station, and masterfully shimmied and leapt from structure to structure.
The Prince wasn't like any other royal in the universe, he couldn't remember the last time he spent a day within his father's palace. It was as if he possessed an addiction for action, or more specifically, adventure. The Prince imagined that it was for this reason that he joined Anaximander on these various goose chases.
Anaximander, though sweating profusely, began to relax as the minutes passed him by. Anton would have tried to kill them long ago if he felt they were unwelcome, so it must have been a good sign. Anaximander tilted his head to the sky, to observe the merciless, overbearing sun singling him out for abuse. He may have been in a better mood if his compatriots suffered in a similar fashion, but Kaisar could only benefit from the solar energy, and The Prince had lived in desert climates his entire life.
As dramatic as it sounded, Anaximander couldn't help but complain endlessly, perhaps to garner sympathy, or perhaps to pass the time. If Anton was on his way, he certainly was taking his sweet time.
"(huff) (huff) Kaisar! What are the signs of dehydration again?" Anaximander bellowed in misery.
"I thought you were trained as a nurse Sir?"
"I'm too depleted to remember"
"Well, I believe they are extreme thirst, abdominal pain, and uh…blood in the urine" Kaisar recited, enlisting information from the Civilization Health Conservatory Database.
"Heh…two out of three isn't so bad I suppose" Anaximander whispered weakly.
"Now Anaximander, is the lack of background noise due cause for this incessant complaining?" The Prince spoke, after leaping to the ground from the towering price sign.
"That is easy for you to say, Your Highness. I am from the Midwestern America, any temperature above 70 F is liable to kill me"
The Prince rolled his eyes while smirking, and Kaisar blinked his singular ocular interface, in effort to emulate the emotion. Kaisar knew Anaximander would find something to complain about no matter the circumstances, for the life of a cynic was that of his choosing.
While the trios were distracted with valueless conversation, a lone figure approached them from the shadows beside the gas station. In truth, he had arrived 15 minutes before, but had spent the time staking out the environment, though he knew the intruders, he didn't know their purpose.
Acknowledging that they weren't of any direct threat to him; he approached them without any visible weapons, visible being the key concept.
"Looking for me, Anaximander?" The figure softly asked, in his thick accent.
The trio turned in surprise, The Prince leapt for cover behind the Futura, Kaisar's eyelight turned from green to red, and Anaximander cowered in fear. The overreaction may have been humorous to the lone figure, but he wasn't the type to telegraph his emotions, especially to mere children, considering their age.
After regaining their dignity, the shallow remains at least, the trio returned to the side of the Futura to conference with Anton Chigurh.
"Why are you here?" Anton asked directly.
"We need your help" Anaximander spoke, indentifying as the representative voice of the fellowship.
"You know my channel, and my prices. But why are you here?" Anton repeated, without a hint of emotion on his face or in his voice.
"We've been sent by Altair, he would like us to-"
"Why wouldn't Altair contact me himself? We conduct business regularly"
"From the way I hear it, Altair wishes to keep this mission a secret from Civilization itself, meaning he's enlisted us to recruit helpers for an upcoming threat" The Prince voiced, taking the attention from the nervous Anaximander.
"Alright" Anton concluded.
"And if I may add Anton, the threat facing us is quite massive; we, Altair, and Civilization would compensate you in any way you wish for your services" Kaisar added, assuming a protective instinct over his master, who now has his eyes glued to the sandy ground.
"Alright" Anton repeated.
"Listen, we know you aren't much of a team player, but Altair instructed me to find the best-"Anaximander found the courage to speak again.
"I…Said…Alright" Anton stopped his speech, enunciating each word darkly and clearly.
Perhaps the trio wasn't aware of it, but the concept of repetition was more aggravating to Anton Chigurh than intrusion is his personal space was. The trio remained silent, confused as to why Anton was so suddenly agreeable.
"What do you mean "Alright"? You'll join us?" Anaximander inquired, confused.
"Not yet, I am leaving to see Altair, then I'll know if you're deceiving me or enlisting me on a mission" Anton spoke, walking away from them.
"You didn't let us explain what we're fighting. At least allow us to tell you where to meet us" The Prince exclaimed, baffled as the seemingly uncaring personality of Anton Chigurh.
"That will not be necessary, Altair will brief me on the contract, hire me, and then I will find you. Anaximander, I believe you know how effective I am at finding someone"
"Uh…Yes, Right"
"Goodbye, one way or another, I'll be seeing you soon" Anton ominously spoke before activating an automatic skycar to retrieve him.
Anton embarked the vehicle and quickly hovered into the sky, and into the space above Old Country, without saying another word.
The trio was left in the dust of the dramatic exit, each of which were marked with both an exasperated and gobsmacked expression upon their face, Kaisar included. It would be a minute of processing the past few minutes events in which The Prince found the mental capacity to speak again.
"I like to believe that I am not judgemental, that I behave strangely and accept others who behave strangely. But never in my entire existence have I met a man so shrouded in arrogance and horror" The Prince said, having no issue with believing such an antisocial man could be the most ruthless and merciless killer the universe had ever spawned, much less Civilization.
"Hmph…It is only logical that such a strange man could be capable of outmatching the greatest assassins the Milky Way had to offer, thank the Creators that he's on our side" Kaisar spoke, eyelight returning to its dark green hue.
"L-l-let us just go, alright?" Anaximander simply couldn't stay in the presence of Anton Chigurh or his planet any longer.
"Agreed" The remaining duo spoke.
Still keeping the extra bubble seat in the Lincoln Futura, Kaisar, Anaximander, and The Prince boarded the skycar, and rapidly departed the planet, not soon enough, they agreed. Deciding to try to forget what the past hours had bared, the trio agreed to a mutual silence, at least for a few minutes.
The destination which followed obviated an answer from the leader of the fellowship, which the drowsy Anaximander answered: Охотничий домик.
"What?" The Prince exclaimed, assuming Anaximander was clearing his throat.
"I said…Охотничий домик" Anaximander repeated in a flawless Russian accent.
"It is Russian, for Hunting Lodge, Your Highness" Kaisar translated.
"How interesting, I wasn't aware you spoke Russian, Anaximander"
"I do not" Was the answer.
Kaisar entered the coordinated for Hunting Lodge into the console, which enabled the Futura to use its internal Mass Effect relay to enter the next galaxy.
"It seems hard to believe Sir, but we are making excellent time. We've barely been at this a week and we've already recruited Civilization's best junior monarch, and its finest assassin" Kaisar spoke, pulling away from the console, and gazing into the purple surrounding void.
"It is hard to believe, even though I've slept for a combined 27 hours, I am only feeling more drowsy" Anaximander spoke through glazed eyes, also staring into the void of space and time.
"I quake in fear in anticipation of the answer, but my curiosity must be satiated. To where are we going? And to whom are we going to meet?" The Prince cringed, hoping to meet a being of minimal class.
"Fear not Your Highness, I think you'll like our next contestant, he's much like yourself in fact" Kaisar alluded.
"I seem to recall you said much of the same with that psychopathic assassin"
"Yes, but the similarities are truly uncanny this time" Kaisar corrected himself.
"Then who is he?"
"His name, or rather he calls himself General Zaroff. He isn't royalty, but behaves like he was a descendant of the ancient Tsar himself. He has used his Galaxy to entertain his favorite hobby: Hunting." Kaisar recited from his memory banks.
"Hmm…I myself enjoy the occasional hunt, though I fail to see how this makes him as regal as myself" The Prince analyzed.
"Remember, Kaisar said he behaves as the ancient Tsar. He isn't a descendent of royalty of course, but rather a descendent of a long bloodline of famous hunters." Anaximander added.
"Not the sort that bathe in animal dung, or the sort who dress in camouflage, but rather the sort who wear pith helmets, wield elephant guns, and host lavish feast featuring their latest accomplishment, in addition to their newest mantelpiece" Kaisar went on.
"Then this General Zaroff modeled his galaxy after his royal-esque hunting ancestors?"
"No, well not exactly. His family was always financially independent; thankfully they all were able to steer clear of the Force. His father and brothers inhabit their own galaxies, where they spend their days hunting. Not that any of it is comparable to the skills of Zaroff" Anaximander recalled.
"I know for a fact his father was a General in the Russian military, but the trail goes cold from there. All I know for certain is that his galaxy consists of the most beautiful environments this side of Anaxavia, occupied by the most vile, dangerous creatures ever conceived and spawned by the GECK device" Anaximander recited.
"I must be missing something obvious, but why do we require the services of a regal hunter, especially one that wields a gun that takes two assistants just to aim?" The Prince inquired once more.
"I figure the Batarians may enlist the services of the murderous beasts which inhabit their Empire, I've heard rumor that they were able to tame Thresher Maws" Anaximander responded.
"I can think of no being better that General Zaroff to expertly smite the monstrous masses the Batarians may enlist. He tells a smashing joke as well!" Kaisar exclaimed.
"Well, no matter the circumstances, he cannot possibly be anymore unwelcoming than the last one" The Prince decided.
IN THE GALAXY OF HUNTING LODGE
In the deep, dark jungle, a shadowy figure ran swiftly through the jungle. The planet the being was on was occupied by towering trees, merciless fauna, and a hazard of inescapable horror.
The figure looked behind his back periodically, for he was being pursued by a seemingly inhuman force, which appeared to be losing its grip on its prey's position. The curved, strong legs of the prey changed direction constantly before springing in said direction, in effort to confuse his pursuer. He finally came to a rest behind a thick tree, taking refuge behind its wide, girthy trunk.
The being took this brief moment to catch his breath, and recall the events which led him to the present situation.
The being was a Turian mercenary, who was stationed on a colony far from the reaches of Citadel space. He was contracted by an anonymous source to come alone to a location on a space station. The contact, whomever they were deposited three quarters of the agreed-upon price into his bank account, in essence securing the loyalty of the soldier-of-fortune.
He shuttled his way to the station as dictated by his agreement, and boarded the vessel without any incident or inspection. The vessel appeared Human-made, but wasn't any model that he was familiar with. He assumed his employer was indeed wealthy, wealthy enough to design a custom frigate, and wealthy enough to take a chance on a mercenary.
The terms of their contract didn't mention a meeting point, so the Turian wandered around the station, making a chilling discovery as he sauntered. He was alone; there was nobody on the station. There were kiosks and storefronts populating the artificial streets of the station, but no being was in sight, and neither was there on his map screen.
Before he could second guess his contract, a large, bent limb wrapped around his throat, squeezing with immense strength. The sheer force seemed inhuman, along with the size of the strangling arm which was cutting off his oxygen. The shadow appearing in front of the gagging Turian was indeed human shaped, and the light-tan colored limb was coated in thick, brown hair.
Despite being a trained mercenary, and the strongest in his assign division, he was no match for his biology. It was a little known fact that a Turian couldn't remain conscious for long in the absence of oxygen. A proud and dignified species such as the Turians didn't like to admit their weaknesses.
His eyes closed after a minute of struggle, periodically opening and closing again as he felt himself being carried by the towering human.
After an otherwise uneventful slumber, the Turian forced himself awake, and took a mere 5 seconds to analyze his whereabouts before deciding an action.
He was unbound, and seated in a wooden chair covered in a satin cushion. The room he was in was burgundy in color, and carried by wooden pillars, with Baroque designs adorning them. He was in a room which seemed like a miniature dining room, with paintings and candles lining the walls of the cramped room. He was seated in front of a small table, covered in a white table cloth, across from another being, an empty silver saucer in front of both.
The being seated across from him was an elderly-seeming human. His facial features were wrinkled, though much of its attention was drawn away from his massive, handlebar mustache, ivory white colored. His head was bald, save for a lining of white hair covering the back of his head, from ear to ear. His stature was massive, but not as massive as the being that had dispatched the Turian on the abandon station. He was dressed in a red military blazer, with medals adorning the left side of his breast, and a blue sash adorning the other.
"Greetings friend, fear not…I mean you no harm for the time being" The aging fellow spoke, as the Turian raised its head.
"Who the hell are you, where in the spirits have you taken me?" The Turian bellowed in anger.
"Be calm warrior, there will be plenty of time for revenge later" The human spoke, in a thick accent of unknown origin to the Turian.
"Prepare to die!" The Turian yelled, raising himself from the chair, and assuming a combat stance.
"Sir please, I beseech you, allow me to explain" The figure calmly spoke, rising from his chair equally, though not assuming a position.
The Turian tried to grapple the Human with his arms, only for his left arm to be grabbed by the Human first, who used his momentum to flip the Turian over his shoulder. The Turian crashed onto the dining table, shattering the wooden furniture under his weight. He was stunned, but otherwise uninjured. The Human took this opportunity to explain himself.
"I rather expected a civilized meal before our hunt, though it seems your impatience in insatiable. I respect you nevertheless, an animal in the wild would equally have no such care for fanciful frivolities or kind manners" The Figure spoke to the wheezing Turian.
"I am General Zaroff, and I am a hunter. I have hunted every beast in the known galaxy, and you'll be intrigued to know that you are in the Milky Way no longer, but rather a temporary guest in the Galaxies of Civilizaition."
"So…what?" The Turian rose himself once again, backing away towards a wall.
"I have hunted Shark, Ape, Varren, Thresher, Human, Asari, Turian, though that is all that comes to mind now. I wish to add another Turian to my hunting repertoire, and your dossier says you're the best The Tulivian Company has to offer"
"You want…to hunt me!" The Turian squeaked in disbelief.
"Yes, it will be fair of course, only you and I, winner take all, whatever you wish of course. I also wish to apologize for circumstances of your arrival here; you truly didn't have a choice, as this was an honor you can't escape. I hope you as well can appreciate the trouble I've gone through, please understand, I am running out of deserving prey"
"You're insane…"
"No young lad, I am a hunter. Your sort would stab you in the back for a single credit; I intend to immortalize you upon my mantel. Truly there is no greater honor I could bestow to such a worthy prey."
At this moment, Zaroff retrieved a dagger from the inside of his military blazer. It was a Turian ritual dagger, rather ineffective in survival and life-or-death situations, but he imagines his Turian prey would appreciate the thought.
"L-l-listen…I don't want to do this; I'm just doing this for a job. I'm sorry. Please just let me leave." The Turian spoke pleadingly, terrified by the regal yet horrifying presence of the elderly Human.
"I am indeed sorry it has come to this my boy, but neither of us can escape place alive. I am going to leave you now to prepare, In 24 hours the hunt will begin. You should use this time to set up traps or to find a vantage point; I know I certainly will not waste my time"
"You can't be serious?"
"Have faith in yourself my boy, we are but two beings of equal prowess. Life and death can be as simple as a flip of a coin. Perhaps tomorrow will be your day, or perhaps it will be mine. Cowering or hiding from one's issues can only breed destruction. I only prey you'll live long enough to use this advice to your advantage"
With that, Zaroff left the small room to an open jungle outside, he turned his head one final time to utter an ending quote.
"Happy Hunting"