Tob fired his MF-7214-A laser rifle again and ran. He consulted the map once more, making sure he ran in the right direction to avoid quicksand and the cursed grains of red and black that would, at his touch, turn him into a pillar of silicon. For the past five hours, he was being pursued by some flying machine, which the map had told him was unknown. Frequently he requested an Observer picture of it, but it appeared to be cloaked, unless it was camouflaged against the sand.
He had caught another flash of it just before: it appeared to be some sort of robot; no pilot, but he wasn't sure of that. What he could see on it was a hole where some sort of gun, most likely, resided and two jewel-like cameras gave it the appearance of eyes. Combined with some sort of protruding cover above, it appeared to be a floating head wearing a hat.
"Distance to enemy!" he shouted in vain. "How do I find the damn distance to enemy?!"
As he ran, he started to press buttons at random. Boxes of Protoss script appeared on the screen, and suddenly, the dotted line that showed the safest course disappeared.
He uttered a yell of anger and hopelessness, before he raised his arm to throw the map in the distance. But what stopped him was the sudden moisture around his legs, and a sludgy feel climbing them slowly. He looked down to see his short, stumpy thighs disappear beneath the patterned sand. Suddenly, there was a whoosh overhead, and the robot, with a mixture of high-pitched whistles and beeps, lowered itself so that it was level to his head.
They stared face-to-face for a few seconds. As he struggled to free himself from the mire, Tob looked over the robot, and verified what he had seen in his glimpses of it when it broke its camouflage. He could then add to its description two or possibly three "arms" that were attached around its spherical "head", pointing up to its "hat brim". The ends of the visible ones provided a blue light pattern against the red and black of the rising earth.
Its right arm lowered, pointed at his head. At the end of it was a gaping hole, at least four inches across.
This is it, he thought.

* * *

Telg Rak'potot B'ralku had always been the adventurous type, with a strong will and hard, firm character - he was not one to be considered easily amiable. Often, in his childhood days, he would play in the harsh, unforgiving moor behind his parents' villa. As any child would, he had an imagination, except his was full of infiltration and detonation.
It was no wonder that, from an early age, he has wanted to be in the Koopat B'krakt'gotopekt Tograk'lok, and was already seeking ways through his uncle on his mother's side - an officer in the G'rekt or the Koopan Army - to enter the highly privileged association. He found his way in through a number of intelligence officers while serving on the front as they invaded the Mushroom Kingdom semi-successfully: they lost their land, however the culture and a few straggling Koopa Troopas remained.
Ironically, on the day of his admission, his family was assassinated. Ket'nalkok fell into the hands of the Gr'tokoru family. He served in the KBT, receiving honours and many skills for fifteen years, safe from the Gr'tokoru's bloodlust by law until a surveillance mission on the Isle O' Hags.
He was on the edge of a field that overlooked the house of the honey bear, Banjo, and his obnoxious breegull friend, Kazooie. Virtually alone, save minor support from their friends, they had smashed through the Gruntling forces twice against an ally of King Bowser: Grunty Winkybunion, the witch. Seeing as they were a threat to the coalition of Koopan alliances, they were kept under constant surveillance to warn the Gruntlings of another decimation - they used the alliance with the Koopas to their advantage. Also, the bear-bird-duo may change their focus to the Koopans at any time, so it was a win-win situation for the allies - and it was Tob's turn to keep that situation going.
He was aware, and had been told, of the threat of attack by giant vegetables - the soil contained some element, which made them larger than life, semi-sentient, and made the cauliflowers fly - the element classified as Level 6 KBT information. Thus a hole nearby served as protection.
So, while studying the house through his high-powered binoculars, which he kept around his neck, an eight-foot-carrot swiped him. He scrabbled backwards towards the hole, watching the carrot bounce towards him, and fell into it, only to find the floor open up into a void, him falling through into the blazing Tullabanarigan sun. As a Koopa, he was not worried by such a thing, but unable to recognise the desert, he stumbled off in a random direction, and was found by a slave-trader's train. He was captured, and sold to a man called Mamsto, who was extremely cruel to him. He was called Tob - although he didn't know himself, it was an acronym for stupid blue turtle-thing - and after three months, escaped through the narrow sewers. They were too small for a man to clamber through - the larger ones had been blocked off, so he propelled himself, cramped in his shell, through the smaller ones. He soon found himself at the exit point at a lake of urine and faeces, twelve miles from the citadel - fortunately, he did not fall in, but found a doorway out of the sewer before hand.
It was at night, and the reddy-glow of Tullabanariga's lights were a blob against the black sky. He picked a direction away from them, and stumbled into another slave train, the one which would also find Lich.

* * *

And now he was in another desert, sand creeping up his chest inside the same shell that bought him temporary freedom, with a gun pointed at his head. He let loose a chuckle as he realised how pointless the robot's action was - he'd be dead in two minutes anyway.
"I have to commend whoever your creator is on supplying you with something that makes me jovial in my final seconds," he told the flying machine.
In reply, it fired its gun - but instead of the bullet or beam he was expecting, a rope had tied itself around what was visible of his shell, with some sort of hook grabbing the carapace, and pulled him out of the sandtrap as the robot turned and flew at high speed. He looked down, and saw the sand beneath them a blur of black with streaks of red flashing before his eyes. They were in the air, and the pressure of the wind forced the shell to close around his knees - the sand was still trapped inside it, and it was a most unpleasant feeling.
He looked back up again, and reckoned Ulrezaj sent the robot, so it was time to decide whether or not he would infiltrate the lair through secrecy, or enter as a prisoner and be known. He weighed it up in his head: secretly, he could stay out of everyone's way, but it may be impossible to get in. This way provided easy access, but he would not avoid others. Besides, if he escaped and jumped down to the ground, there was no guarantee that the ground he looked on was quick or cursed.
"Do you talk, robot?" he asked sardonically.
The robot replied with only a few beeps.
"No, I see."
He studied the robot's make-up: it appeared to be made of the same metals as the Gantrithor II and the other aerial craft around the Protoss base. He knew from KBT files on the Dark Archon that he had Protoss knowledge; was a mind reader; had a ruthless and dangerous persona - the epitome of an evil being; and that he sought the Uraj and the Khalis, and now held them in his possesion.
He had heard Markior talk about these crystals, and saw them in their position on the flagship. And there was no doubting that he wanted to lay his hands on them - no wonder Ulrezaj wanted them. But if he was to maintain Markior's trust, he'd have to return them. But he'd have them, even if for a little while…
And he was about to be Ulrezaj's audience.
He definitely had been in dangerous positions and on missions of like description, he had fifteen years of experience, but he had to gather all of that and his victory over past strife if he wanted to survive this. He always collected all his past strength to get through anything, but for the first time since his first mission, he was unsure it would be able to - he was scared.
He revised his lessons. The first of them was to be able to "mind-thrash", where, upon sensing another being's presence in his head, was to think many useless thoughts in quick succession and to "press upon them", until the being left his mind. With the rise of telepaths in Yamauchian interrogation, it had become a vitally important skill. Then came the traditional interview interrogation techniques and pain-ignorance before the "fun" part began - espionage technique.
A few beeps from the robot, and a shockwave hit his body, and he realised he was passing through some sort of barrier around the lair. He looked ahead of him to see a few lights in the nearly pitch-blackness, and for the first time in many, many years, he gulped.