Following her arrest, Jenice had been bundled into a two-seat trainer Pegasuros. Piloted by an anonymous Red Claw pilot she didn't recongise, the machine had headed south along with Levisha, Sturm and a couple of the Chimera Dragons. Levisha hadn't said where they were headed, just instructed for all parties involved - Trogdor included - to follow her lead. She hadn't offered any resistance; partially because she was cuffed, and partially because she wished to know exactly what it was that her former second and most trusted aide had in mind.

They'd flown for several hours, traveling on an elusive path that avoided contact with any population centers, troop movements or anything else. Clearly, Levisha was going out of her way to make sure that nobody saw them or could report their location. She didn't seem overly concerned about how long it was taking, as long as there were no complications. Levisha found this particularly interesting; with the Gungyarados, they could hypothetically destroy any opposition they encountered.

Eventually they broke course and swooped down, heading towards a bent canyon. Initially, Jenice could see no reason for them to be here of all places, but then she saw something. There was a derelict Whale King lying at the end of the canyon, a wrecked machine that looked to have been there for at least a century. The group of Zoids landed in front of it, marching and rolling inside its gaping maw.

Initially, its interior matched to its outside; a decrepit, half-rusted mess of junk components that had long ago ceased functioning. However, their Zoids moved onto a loading elevator that seemed to be just as inoperable as all else around it. To her surprise, the lift then began to descend, heading through what should have been the floor of the Whale King and into the ground.

She gasped at what she saw. Concealed below the ship was a subterranean complex, the likes of which she had never seen before. Massive hangers dominated her initial view of it; while largely empty, she could see rows of equipment that seemed to be far more advanced then any she had encountered so far.

The Zoids stepped off the elevator and into the hanger, where a group of people were waiting. Sturm and Levisha stepped out of their machines, the pilot of the Pegasuros indicating for Jenice to do the same. With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, she complied, stepping forward to the group.

Four of their five were anonymous figures, a mixture of male and female. They were dressed in form-fitting, sleek high-tech uniforms that she didn't recongise, the lower halves of their faces covered in masks while their heads were shaved. All four carried rifles of a design she couldn't identify. Between them was a tall man who looked to be in his seventies; he was unremarkable, save for his face. The right half of it was a twisted mass of scars, while the eye and part of the surrounding area had been replaced with cybernetic components.

He turned to Levisha. "Thank you for all you have done, Fourty-Two." He stated. "And this must be Paladin Trogdor. I have heard a lot about you; your dedication to our cause is admirable, even if you have only met one of our followers."

Sturm nodded to the man. "I thank you, sir. I believe that you and I have the same aims. From what Levisha described, your... orgnaisation represents the best way to achieve those."

"Naturally." He nodded, then turned back to Jenice. "And you are Jencie, the creator of the Red Claw." He bowed to her. "Please forgive the methods we used to bring you here but they were necessary."

"Why?" She demanded. "Why have you destroyed my organisation and abducted me? Who are you, and what is it you want with me?"

"We want to create a better future, Jenice." He explained. "Not only for you, but for all mankind. And you are a key part of that."

oOoOo

Chain of Memories

oOoOo

In its shift form being a slave colony to a base of operations for the Zygra resistance movement, Gayos had grown and changed dramatically during the war. The year since the end of that conflict had seen it further altered as the city had begun to change for its new role, that of a national; government.

Much of it at the moment was a mess of half-constructed buildings interspersed with temporary buildings, ones that had to serve all manner of differnt roles. One of them (Actually a collection of several quickform buildings that had been stuck together) was the temporary parliament form which the fledgling Zygra government was being run. Drawn from representatives from across the nation, the senate was the key part of the democratic state that Zygra himself was hoping to build.

A hope that was quickly fading.

Zygra walked into his makeshift office, Dezalg behind him. "I don't believe this." He began as he took off his jacket, then sat down behind his desk. It was a barely-contained mess of papers, covered with all manner of vital documents. "I just don't believe it."

"Well, it's happened." Dezalg offered. "I wish I could change it but..." he shook his head.

"After all that has happened... I have to wonder how they could do this." He continued. "I know some of those people, Dezalg. Not just as fellow members of government, but as friends and allies. I worked ad fought alongside some of them during the war."

"As did I." Dezalg added. "And I even I couldn't expect this."

"Its just unbelievable." He shook his head. "Why would they do this, Hermann? Why would they take a chance at democracy and then abandon it?"

"Because they think that you are the best leader that they could have." He offered. "And, more to the point, they think that the best way to ensure stability and prosperity for your new nation would be to have a supreme monarch."

"And they saw what happened when you have dictatorships running things." He countered. "And yet, they chose this path."

"The Senate represents the will of the people, Zygra." Dezalg offered. "And your people want you to be their leader. Maybe it's only temporary. Maybe they think we're not yet strong enough to go through the mess of having a full election. Maybe they'll get sick of it and decide to have a glorious people's uprising." He opened a small cabinet, pulling out a bottle. "Drink?"

"Thanks." Zygra replied. "I suppose so. It doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Government seems to be like that." Dezalg continued as he paused a glass for each of them. "But what are you going to do? Maybe you can use this as a way to push through all that you wanted to do anyway. Then, after, I dunno, five years or whenever things are stable or when you feel you've managed to shape this nation into what you want, you can hold a referendum on getting rid of the Emperor. And you'll find that, now that the people are happy with the way things are going, they'll be glad to see the end of you."

He took a sip from his drink. "I suppose so... I guess there are some advantages to the situation."

"Of course. And if all else fails, you could retire by royal degree."

"I suppose so." He added with a laugh. "Still... there is one thing that I will do now that I am apparently going to be an emperor."

"Which is?"

"Appoint a leader for my new armed forces." He continued. "And I know a man who would be perfect for the role." He glanced up at Dezalg.

Hermann nodded. "I would be honoured."

"Thank you." Zygra replied with a rare smile. "I have some rather... radical ideas for our army, Hermann. And I'd appreciate your hand to guide them."

"Do tell."

He nodded. "A part of what I am planning relates to my ideal of downsizing our military. I have this... plan to basically institute a form of nabilty in the army. Make our Zoid pilots into knights and such. I want to present the idea that piloting a Zoid is more of an honor, a place of prestige and responsibility rather then just a job."

"It's a tall order." Dezalg replied. "And it is not going to be easy."

"I understand that." He agreed. "But that's why I want you to do this. You're my oldest ally, Hermann, and my best friend. You've been by my side since the start, and I know that you could do this. While there are others who I think that would be good for such a role, none of them have quite your experience, nor the entirety of my confidence."

"It thank you for that but... I'm still rather young. There's people about that have been piloting Zoids almost as long as I've been alive, of not more. And I know that many of them support you."

"I know who you're talking about, Dezalg. You don't need to mess about."

"Oh?" He asked. "You offered the position to her?"

"Not the position, but..." he shook his head. "I offered her one of the top spots. Basically, she would have been your second had she accepted."

"And she didn't?"

"No." He shook his head. "She said that she was tired of fighting, or words to that effect. I can't say I blame her."

"Or words to that effect?" He raised a brow. "Sandra Blackmore would never say something so succinct or to the point."

"True. I'll let you figure the rest of it, though." he took a large swing from his drink. "Well, here I am, Emperor of a nation that I don't want to have an emperor."

"Could be worse." Dezalg offered. "The senate could have voted to dissolve themselves."

"I suppose." He shrugged. "I notice that Myrinda has made no effort to reinstitute the Drakken senate thus far."

"So there you go. We're at least one level of responsibility ahead of our opponents." Dezalg added, and laughed.

Zygra nodded. "This is a strange new world we're entering into, Hermann. A very strange one indeed."

oOoOo

Despite the bustle of all the construction work, and the flow of people into the rapidly growing city, the areas around Zygra were relatively calm and quiet still. An area of wide, rolling grasslands, the Gayos environs had been earmarked for agricultural use after the completion of the city, converted to feed a rapidly growing populace. But that was for the future. Right now, they were a quirt, peaceful place where one could, even if monetarily, escape the bustle of the growing city below.

A pair of figures walked through the field, casually strolling but not talking. Both were tall, but rather different in appended. The first, a man, was slim, with a weathered face crowned with long grey-black hair. His attire was simple; a grey jumpsuit that covered most of his pale skin. The woman next to him was attractive, her features lightly lined with age. Her eyes were green, while her long, thick black hair had only a few silver streaks that seemed less to make her look older, but more to make her seem more distinguished.

"Well?" She asked. "What is it you wanted to show me, Pants?"

"This, Reven." he replied. "Look around you and tell me what you see."

"Um... grass." She replied, flatly. "Lots and lots of grass, yes."

"So oyu understand what this means, don't you?"

"That... there is lots of grass here." She stated. "And you bought me all the way out here to show me it. Whoopee."

Pants shook his head. "Before the war, this was all desert. There was nothing here but rocks and sand with the odd patch of scrub. Now look at it."

Reven looked around. "Yes, Pants. There is a lot of grass. Your point being?"

"Aren't you curious as to how this happened?" He asked. "Don't you wonder how it is that barren desert could be transformed into fertile grasslands in the space of a couple of decades?"

"Not really, no." She Casually stated, a dismissive tone in her voice. "I mean, its all climate change and stuff caused by all the nuclear bombs anyway."

"It's not just that, Reven." He continued. "This land has been altered. Somebody has deliberately changed it, trying to transform it from desert into usable land. This is more then mere climate change; this is an attempt to restructure the world."

"Okay, so it is. Fine." She shrugged, admitting defeat. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Can you feel it?" He asked. "Can you feel what has been done to this land?"

"Here we go again, Pants." She sighed. "I keep telling you I don't have any stupid mumbo-jumbo powers."

"But you do. We all know that." He stated. "Now... I want to prove this to you." he pulled off his boots, revealing his bare feet. Standing next to her, he dug his toes into the ground, wiggling them in amongst the soil. "There. Like this, you can actually feel the land. It's alive, Reven. It's actually alive." He turned to her, smiling. "Try it. Please."

She sighed. "I can't argue with you when you do puppy-dog eyes." She shook her head, admitting defeat. "All right." Leaning on him, she removed her boots and socks. "I just can't believe I'm doing this."

Digging her feet in, Reven sighed again to herself. Pants was always asking her to do silly things like this; poke Zoid cores, talk to machines, intimately fondle some Hydra artifact... If he had a hard-on for her, he should just out and say it. Usually she just came away from these sessions with a headache and a declaration never to speak to him again. Of course, she always did; it was impossible to stay mad at him.

She dug her toes into the soil like he had and concentrated. Breathing deeply, she did begin to feel something; a vague, tingling sensation in her feet. Not the amazing revelation that Pants had promised, certainly. "Yes, I feel it. And I have dirty feet to boot. Now can you please explain the point of all this?"

He turned to her and nodded. "It is simple, Reven. I need your help."

"My help?" She asked, somewhat incredulously. "What can I do for you?" She had no idea about all the technical crap that Panrts did. if asked, she would have gladly admitted that she had no idea about anything technical or scientific. Sure she was beautiful, charming, witty, gracefully aged and a skilled pilot but... she couldn't do all this science stuff.

"Yes, Reven." He explained. "We know that the population has fallen." An understatement to say the least. Figures were still being collated, but it had been estimated that as much as half the pre-war population may be dead. "But amongst... my people the decline is more severe. I've heard that ninety-eight percent of them may be dead... and those that remain do not practice their arts for fear of persecution."

"And?"

"Reven, you are one of them." He continued. "You may be the last of them aside from me. Certainly, you're one of the few who are happy to remain open about what you are." Which was mainly because she had no idea at all. "I need your help. I want to preserve all that I can; our knowledge, our lore, our skills, our technology... all this will be lost if we do not work together. If you become my student, then we can continue our traditions. I teach you, you teach someone else, thy teach someone else again..." He smiled. "We can make a future for our people, Reven."

"I..." She sighed. "I can't, Pants." She was constantly brushing people off, usually with a blunt, straight-out putdown. This was different. "I... I just can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I have no technical skills at all." She stated. "And these... powers you say I have... I don't have them or if they do, they're too weak to be of any use. And I'm... middle aged. I'm too old to learn something new. I'm fourty-nine, Pants." (Not quite true. She'd celebrated her fourty-ninth birthday several times now) "I've got a daughter. She's about to give me a granddaughter. I..." She shrugged. "I just can't. Really."

"But..."

"I'm sorry, Pants." She finished. "This... it's not me. It's not something I can do." She picked up her boots and walked off. "I'm sorry. I hope you find someone... else."

"I see. It's okay." Pants nodded slowly as he watched his future walk away.

oOoOo

In spite of all that had happened, the town of Bed Springs had managed to come out of twenty years of conflict relatively unscathed. The town had been the site of minor fighting during the initial Hydra takeover, but since then had managed to avoid any conflict. Hydra's forces had simply up and abandoned it during their withdrawal, seeing it as having no value and not being worth fighting over.

More damaged had been done through wear and neglect the anything else. The town's infrastructure, never a strong point, was on the verge of collapse. Buildings were decrepit and falling apart, water was rare and power failed regularly. It had been earmarked for improvement and reconstruction, however, there were a lot of other communities in similar shape. As a result, Sandra didn't hold out much hope of things getting better anytime soon.

Of course, the town's falling apart was far from the only thing she had to deal with. There was so much else that needed to be done, both here and elsewhere in the Empire. She had been constantly badgered by Zygra to take a position in his army. Each time, she had turned him down, saying that she'd had enough of fighting. But, in the last month, that had been the least of her concerns.

A month ago, Victoria Hagen had gone missing.

She'd simply vanished one evening while out walking. Her Zoid was still there, and nobody had ever found any signs of an attack or other struggle. It was like she had simply vanished off the face of the planet. Of course, Sandra was not one to accept such a conclusion, especially not where Victoria was concerned. She, and her friends and associates, had spent the last month scouring for anything that could suggest to her whereabouts. Instead, they had come up with nothing.

Sandra rubbed her good eye as she looked over the information she had gathered for the zillionth time. Nothing at all, she thought to herself. Frell it, this isn't getting me anywhere. She had to get up, clear hear head and maybe just take a break for a bit. She stood, and was about to leave their house when there was a knock at the door.

She warily walked over to it, keeping a gun at the ready just in case. Some might have called her paranoid for doing such; she just called it "common sense." Pausing a moment, she slowly opened the door, ready to leap if needs be.

Instead, she was surprised by who she saw there. A pair of figures who couldn't have looked too much different. Victoria Hagen was one of them; she looked a little tired, but otherwise appeared to be fine, as if she had only stepped out for a minute. Sandra was so shocked to see her friend there, that she could have overlooked the second; or rather would have, if it had been anyone else.

Rose O'Bannon had worn the last two decades well. Whereas Sandra's face was lined, her hair grey and her scars deeper, Rose looked to be only a few years older then when Sandra had first met her. At the same time, she also looked a lot older; her long red hair had been clipped back to shoulder length, and she seemed to have a tired, almost weary step to her formal stance. Sandra hadn't expected to see her; principally because she hadn't expected to ever seer a Zemalyan instead. All contact with them had been lost over five years ago, whereas some satellite photos showed heavy cratering in the area of the Dark Continent where their city was.

"Victoria?" Sandra began, momentarily avoiding looking at the other woman. "Are you..."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Victoria replied, almost dismissively. "Yeah, I'm just a bit tired, really."

Sandra nodded. "Of course. Look, um..." She stepped out of the doorway, allowing her past. "You go inside, okay? And sit down, get yourself something."

Victoria nodded and smiled. "Thanks, Sandra." She spoke up. "Just be a minute." She casually stepped past the older woman, slipping into the living room.

The instant Victoria was gone, Sandra turned to rose, a look of unrestrained anger on her face. "Okay, Toolbox. You have a minute to tell me what the frel you did to her and then I will kill you. Do you understand me?"

"Of course." Rose replied, no trace of her usual confident tone in her voice. Instead, she sounded almost defeated. "But at least let me say my piece."

"Go on." Sandra growled.

Rose sighed, looking away from Sandra. "We found her with a Hydra splinter group. They... they were trying to get into our city, and use her to reactivate that thing. It was some sort of death-or-glory last stand. We managed to rescue her, though." Rose offered. "She's fine, really. Just a bit shook up."

"Right." Sandra muttered. 'Hydra Splinter Group' was becoming the newest excuse for everything; they seemed to be cropping up all over the place. At the same time, however, she couldn't completely doubt Rose's words; one such group had recently attacked them, severely wounding Anna. As much as she wanted to brush Rose aside, there was every chance she was telling the truth. So why not send Sel to do this? She wondered. They know I'd believe her far more readily.

"'course, it wouldn't have done them any good." Rose continued. "That thing's dead, Sandra. It and everything else."

"I..." Sandra's fierce expression faded. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine." Rose shook her head. "I, well... I wanted to do everything I could to bring her back to you, Sandra. I know she means al to to you, being her best friend and all that and, well... yeah."

"Rose?" Sandra asked, genuine concern in her voice. "Are you..."

She sighed. "One of my daughters is thrilled that she's going to be able to join the last ever generation of Zemalyans. The other utterly loathes and despises me because she can't be one of the last generation of Zemalyans. Either way, it doesn't matter." She shook her head. "Sel... Sel and Matt are good. They send their regards and wish they could be here but... duties and all."

"No, I understand."

"I'm sorry, Sandra, really I am. I... I should go."

Sandra nodded sadly. "Sure. Please, tell them... tell them I miss them, okay?"

"I will." Rose finished then turned. "Sandra... can you do one thing for me?"

"What?"

"Please, please leave this town. You, your friends... anyone you value or care for. Get them out of here." She finished. "I'm sorry. Really I am." She walked off, not looking back.

That's why you came instead of Sel, Sandra thought. Because Sel would have told the truth to me. Alt least... at least you said enough, which is more then I would have ever expected from you. She watched the Zemalyan woman walk off.

"Sandra?" Victoria asked. "Is Rose still there?"

"No, she had to go." Sandra replied as she turned around.

"Oh, I wanted to thank her for bringing me back here."

Sandra nodded. "Don't worry. She knows."

oOoOo

Sandra had followed Rose's advice, leaving the town as soon as she could. She'd pulled a large number of people with her; almost everyone who she had worked with during the war had chosen to follow her in the end. They didn't need to have an explanation; if Sandra said 'go', they went. The people of Bed Springs noted this with some curiosity, but chose not to dwell on it. There was no reason for them to leave, and no explanations were forthcoming.

The first signs that anything was wrong occurred almost a week later. About midnight, an eerie green glow appeared on the northern horizon, growing in intensity and size. The silence of the desert night was shattered by a growing rumble, like approaching thunder. It was only then that the full impact of Rose's words were felt.

Scores of Dark Zoids descended on the town, marching straight into it and seizing control of its infrastructure in a lighting strike. There was no resistance; nobody was prepared for what had happened, and nobody had been expecting an attack. The few defenders who were alert quickly realised that there was nothing they could do against this vastly superior force, and simply opted to surrender without firing a shot. Within an hour, the town was under their control.

Then the second wave of the invasion arrived.

A fleet of Whale Kings flew into the town, landing in whatever clear spaces would have them. As soon as they were down, they discouraged their cargoes; waves of civilians, clearly refugees. Temporary camps quickly sprung up around the town as field engineers went to work on the massive transports, stripping away sections of their hulls. Transported to the edges of the town, these cannibalized components were used to build improvised fortifications.

The Zemaylans were preparing for war.

A day after their takeover, the reason became clear. A force of Zoids approached the city, headed up by Zygra's own black-and-red Genobreaker. The Zoids took up positions at what had once been the main entrance to Bed Springs, but was now a heavily armored fortress gate. While only a temporary fortification, the imposing structure was clearly capable of resisting all but the most determined of assaults. And that was before anyone figured in the Zoids behind it. From the cockpit of his Zoid, Zygra could see the various Dark Zoids hidden behind the wall, their weapons pointed towards his force.

Zygra halted his Zoid, his group stopping behind him. Looking around, he tried to see if he could get a better idea of what was going on. There was very little intelligence available on the situation; it appeared that the Zemalyans had come out of nowhere and simply annexed the town. There was no evidence of their strengths, no idea of their numbers, no suggestions to their motivations. That this was the first time that anyone had seen a Zemalyan in years didn't help matters.

"So what do we do from here?" Dezalg asked.

"We hope that they're willing to talk." Zygra replied. "Because otherwise, this will get very bloody." To say that he was apprehensive was an understatement. He'd read first-hand reports of the prowess sand ruthlessness that the Zemalyn forces had displayed in battle, and he knew fill well how powerful their Dark Zoids could be. Added to that was a town full of civilians who could potentially be used as hostages, which made for a very difficult situation.

"And if they don't?"

"Then we could be in a lot of trouble." This was the single biggest challenge that his new empire had faced so far. That it may come to military force almost seemed a betrayal of all he had tried to create so far. Of course, he hadn't expected to have to deal with a situation like this. To make matters worse, most of the people he knew who had first hand dealings with the Zemalyans (including a former Zemalyan pilot) had simply up and vanished a few days before the attack. "Wish me luck."

He activated the Zoid's PA system and began to speak. "I am Zygra, the leader of the Zygra Empire. Your forces have illegally seized control of a community that is a part of my nation. I demand that you surrender now and withdraw your forces. If you do not comply, we will be forced to take military action to remove you."

There was a long, tense silence from the fortress wall. Eventually, a single figure clambered up to the top of the gates, looking down at him. Zooming in on them, he could see that it was a female officer, apparently in her late fifties or early sixties, but he knew that she could be a lot older. Her grey hair was worn in a bun and, rather unusually for a Zemalyan, she had a pair of jagged scars across her cheek. Those scars were enough to tell him who she was; Rachel Cade, war hero and the last known leader of the Zemalyan people.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Zygra." She announced. "We have claimed this town as our new home. Our people have travelled here from the shattered ruins of our old one; they are weary, hungry and, save for this place, have nowhere left to go back to. This is not a military conquest or an invasion, Zygra. This is the only place we have left."

"I offer you a choice." She continued. "You can allow us to take this place as our own, and leave us in peace. Or, if you wish, you can take it from us. If you do, however, understand that we will fight for it. And while your army may eventually triumph, the cost both to you and to the people we are protecting would be great."

Zygra considered all she had said. What the Zemalyans had done did amount to a military incursion and occupation. At the same time, if all she had said was true, then her people had very few other options. Conversely, his military options were relatively limited; only a direct assault would work, and such a battle would be very costly to both sides, not to mention the civilians caught in the middle.

"If we were to negotiate, then, I would ask one thing from you." He started.

"Name it." She replied.

"Would you allow those civilians who wished to leave the town rather then live under your control a chance to do such?" He spoke up.

"As a prelude to negotiations?" She continued. "Certainly."

Zygra nodded. The situation was grim but, he felt, they may yet be able to salvage it.

oOoOo

Over the last two years, Bed Springs had been completely transformed by its new rulers. Having completely disassembled their ships, the Zemalyans had used them as raw materials for reconstructing the town into a city more suited to their needs. The mess of decaying free-standing buildings and industrial junk that had been the old town was being progressively cleared, replaced with high-rise towers and clusters of structures. Similarly, the ad-hoc fortress walls they had constructed on their initial arrival had been demolished, replaced with larger, thicker and more resilient, permanent fortifications.

Most impressive, however, were the twin towers of the city's new powerplant, a massive fusion reactor facility. The first tower had appeared seemingly overnight, a massive, featureless edifice that dominated the landscape around it. A second one was under construction, its skeleton looking over the town. The first one already provided more power then the town needed; but it was clear that the Zemalyans had grand plans for the future if they were building more.

While there had been no formal effort to rename the town to reflect its new status, some had begun to refer to it as simlply the "Zemalyan City" due to its new rulers. Others preferred the even simpler "Blackstar City", in reference to the five-pointed black star that was the Zemalyan insignia.

While much of the original population of Bed Springs had left, a fair few had chosen to remain behind out of a feeling of community. The Zemalyans had supported their decision, deciding to leave a section of the original town intact for them to dwell in. While the rest of the town had been rebuilt, it had retained much of its original character, albeit in the shadow of a far larger community. This section of the town had also become a way station of sorts, a place where those passing through the town could rest out of the scrutiny of the Zemalyans themselves.

Pants had come here for several reasons. He had wanted to study the Zemalyan technology, to see what they were using. His initial surveys of them in their old city had proven to be interesting, which meant that he was eager for a follow-up inspection. The old Zemlayn city had used a curious mix of technologies; part of it was based on Starrior Technology, and thus far above what others on the Shelflands had possessed. The other part seemed to be, if anything, more primitive then the Shelflands norm, possibly due to their somewhat confused origins.

The Zemalyans had long since lost most of their Starrior tech. At the same time, their "retro" technology had progressed up different paths, not necessarily reaching the same conclusions. So it would be an interesting study to see where they had gone as compared to the rest of the Shelflands.

His second reason was a lot less official. In the last few years since Reven's rejection of his offer, he'd been traveling the world on his own, scouring for bits of information or lore that would be otherwise lost. His actions seemed to have attracted some attention, however. He'd recently been contacted by a man wanting to share information and possibly help him. They'd arranged to meet in the Zemalyan city, seeing it as a neutral ground that would be better suited to both their aims.

He'd entered a run-down bar in one corner of what was now known as the 'old town' to meet this man. Like much of the rest of this quarter, the place had a neglected feeling; the paint was peeling, the windows grimy and the furnishings worn. In many ways, it reminded him of the town as he had first seen it, over twenty years ago.

He went over to one corner of the bar, taking a seat in a corner booth. A minute after his arrival, he was joined by another man. Tall and lean, he had short brown hair flecked with grey. His features would normally be unremarkable; instead, they were very striking. The right side of his face was a mess of scars, like he had been badly wounded or burnt. His right eye was covered by a patch, presumably damaged or missing.

"Pants?" The man began.

"That's me." He nodded.

"Excellent. My name is Gerald Storm. I've been looking forward to meeting you for some time." He smiled, the scars twisting it into a strange grin.

"Your communications indicated that you shared my interests." Pants continued. "I'd like to hear more."

"Certainly." He continued. "I will admit that I do not share your background, Pants. I lack those, ah, skills and abilities that you possess. None the less, I still have a keen interest in the continuation of your people's culture and works."

"Can I ask why the interest?"

"Part of it, I will admit, is the sake of preservation." Gerald explained. "Not to point out the obvious, but your cultural identity is fading; I want to do all I can to preserve it, lest everything be lost. There is, however, another part to it."

"Go on."

"It cannot have escaped your notice that overall technology levels suffered during the war." He explained. "As more and more manufacturing ability was lost, people opted for more primitive solutions. After the war, however, there has been no real effort to progress; people are satisfied with the status quo, despite the fact that it is actually a disadvantage compared to what we had."

"You find this situation to be as concerning as I do?" Pants asked.

"I do, yes." He nodded. "I am afraid that people will become accustomed to it, and that our society and technology will continue to regress. I feel that, through working with you, we may be able to preserve what would otherwise be lost. We may even be able to end this regression, or even turn it around."

Pants nodded. "I understand. So what do you think we should do then?"

"My first thought is that we should share our knowledge. If I could duplicate the information that you have, then there is less chance of it being lost. Also, I believe that we should work together to gather information. Each of us informs the other of what we have found or whatever leads we have, and we each continue to share in our discoveries."

"An excellent idea." Pants agreed. "If you wish, wee can get started immediately."

Storm smiled, his face again twisting. "Nothing would make me happier, Mister Pants."

oOoOo

"This is the Zygra Broadcasting Cooperation Home Service. We interrupt this broadcast for the following announcement."

"Former Emperor Zygra is dead, having died at his home of a suspected heart attack. While he had never given his exact age, he was believed to be seventy five."

"Zygra stepped down from his position as the leader of the empire a year ago, abdicating in favour of his son, Marius Zygra II. Since then, he had lived in peaceful retirement in a villa outside Gayos, no longer playing an active role in running the nation."

"First appearing during the Hydra war, Zygra was responsible for starting the rebellion that eventually lead to Hydra's downfall. After the war, he created this nation as an effort to ensure world peace. He ruled for nearly fourty years before stepping down. He is survived by his son, Emperor Marius Zygra, and his grandson Nikolas."

"Empower Zygra could not be reached for comment, but is expected to declare a national day of mourning and a state funeral."

oOoOo

The streets of the abandoned city rang with gunfire and the sounds of combat, the first that it had seen in decades. The rubble choked streets shook as a pair of Zoids hurried through them, trying their best to navigate the masses of rubble. Behind them came far heavier, thundering footfalls, the sounds of larger Zoids in pursuit.

"Jenice!" Knight Schneider called out form the cockpit of his Hydocker. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"This is imperial territory." She angrily replied as her Gargantula stepped over a mound of rubble. "They had no right to be here!"

"But surely-" He was cut off as a burst of fire ripped apart a wall behind his Zoid. "But surely there was other ways around the situation then opening up on them!" He yelled out.

"Those artifacts they were digging up were a part of our history." She snapped. "I am dammed if I will let them fall into their hands."

"Damn it, Jen-" Schneider called out, but was cut off as a building behind him exploded in a cloud of rubble and debris. A massive Darkhorn charged out from the ruins, its weapons spewing fire at the two smaller Zoids. "They're right on top of me!" He yelled. "Jenice!"

The black Zoid spat fire from its vulcan cannon, the brilliant green shots slamming into the Hydocker's body. The shots tore through its exposed frame, ripping the Zoid in half. Its body collapsed, the cockpit slamming into the ground. Glancing back, Jenice couldn't see what had happened to the pilot. Instead, all she could see was the huge machine charging after her.

"Schneider!" She called out over the communicator. "What's your status?"

"My Zoid's a wreck." he spluttered out. "I'm bruised but... I'll be okay."

"Good." She finished. "Just hang on. I'm going to try and loose this guy." The Gargantula suddenly veered to one side, skittering into a narrow side-street that the Darkhorn couldn't begin to access. Instead, the Blackstar Zoid stopped at the end and swing around its Vulcan cannon, filling the street with fire. She quickly swerved the Zoid, ducking around another street corner as the shots filled the alley behind her.

"So far, so good..." She muttered. Checking her sensors, she could see that the Darkhorn was being forced to take a longer way around, which gave her a chance. The Zoid ducked inside a ruined building, its small size and long legs enabling it to traverse the difficult terrain with ease. And now to figure a way out of this.

She had to get rid of the Blackstar, which would not be an easy accomplishment at the best of times. The Blackstars had a reputation for being ruthless fighters, and for being seemingly invincible. The difference in Zoid quality was enough to ensure that she had no chance against him in a stand-up fight.

Of course, she had other advantages, ones that he hadn't even dreamed off.

"Sturm!" She called out over the comms channel. "What's your status?"

"Glass and I are standing by." Sturm replied, his voice calm despite what was going on. "We're ready to withdraw as soon as the pair of you are back."

"Not possible; Schneider's down and I'm not willing to abandon him." She replied. "Besides, I wouldn't run anyway."

"You can't defeat a Blackstar!" Sturm yelled. "Not even all of us together could-"

"Floyd!" She snapped, cutting him off.

"Y-yes, Commander?" He stammered out.

"That box I ordered you to bring with me. Get it ready to load up."

"Are you sure?" He asked. "I mean, it's not authroised-"

"God damn it, just do it!" She snapped.

"Whoah, okay!" he replied, defensively.

The Gargantula sprinted back to their base camp where two other Zoids, a Garius and a trailer-equipped Tank, were waiting. The Tank was equipped with a crane on its back, a large box resting on the trailer. As she approached, the Garius turned to face her Zoid. "I just hope you know what you are doing, Jenice." Sturm Trogdor spoke up. "Anyone would think this an act of insanity."

"What I am doing is standing up for my people." She snapped. "For too long, this empire has been bullied and pushed around by the likes of them. I am about to show them that we can and will fight back." The Gargantula stopped next to the Tank. "Load me up, Floyd."

Floyd quickly complied, removing the top launcher form the Gargantula before unloading the packing crate. Inside it was a large, tube-shaped weapon, bulging with electrical systems. It looked to be scratch built, made out of a mixture of modified components and scrap. It was Jenice's pride and joy, a weapon she had built herself in her spare time. She'd always had apprehensions about the shortcomings of the Zoids that Zygra's forces used. This little per project was her equaliser.

There was a reassuring thud as the weapon locked into place; a green light on her control panel told her that it was loaded and ready to use, and not a moment too soon. "Incoming!" Floyd called out. "Jenice, you had better know what you are doing!"

"Don't worry." She finished. "Sturm, stay back and protect Floyd. I'll deal with this myself." The Garganula stalked forwards, slowed somewhat by the weight and bulk of the new weapons system, Jenice had expected this; she figured that she could work out the bugs later. This, however, would be an excellent field test of its capabilities.

The Darkhorn charged around the corner, running straight at the trio of Zoids. Despite the size and ferocity of the oncoming machine, however, Jenice stood her ground, waiting for a chance. The Darkhorn's pilot didn't even open fire, clearly intending to simply crush her machine - which was just what she wanted.

She opened fire. A brilliant blue-white beam shot out form the cannon, slamming into the incoming Zoid. Its body crackled with energy as the Tight-Stream Electromagnetic Pulse overwhelmed and shut down its systems. With a loud bellow, the Zoid staggered then collapsed, skidding along on its side before coming to a halt.

Jenice's elation was cut short by a hail of alarms from her systems. On her Zoid's back, the cannon overloaded then blew, panels popping open while smoke billowed out form the weapon. She didn't care, however.

"You did it." Glass commented. "You beat a Blackstar."

"Damn right I did." Jenice smirked. "I'm going to be a bloody hero for this."

oOoOo

Sonya Brie stepped into the run-down bar in the International sector, taking in every detail of the place. It was worn, musty and run-down, seemingly on the verge of collapse like everything else in this district. Of course, that was one of the reasons she found places like this so appealing; they were so different from the norm, so full of life and personality. It made a refreshing change from the bleak grey concrete hell that was her home.

Her entrance warranted some attention; if a Blackstar stepped into a place like this, it usually meant that they were after someone and that there would be trouble. It often also meant that there would be a squadron of heavily-armed troopers not too far behind them. The majority of the patrons began to glance around, as if they were wondering who it was who had attracted the attention of this woman, while quietly dreading the consequences.

Instead, she did something very unusual. She simply walked past the patrons, heading over to a corner booth. Ignoring the furtive glances she was getting from the various patrons, she simply sat to look at the man opposite her. Unlike everyone else, he didn't want her to miss him. In fact, he smiled when he saw her.

"Sonya Brie." He nodded. "I'm glad you came."

"Well," She began, nodding to him. "You made a very interesting case to me. I'd have few reasons not to. Now can I ask what this is about?"

"Being blunt, Ms Brie-"

"Sonya, please."

"Being blunt, Sonya, you are one of, if not the most interesting Blackstars that I have ever met." He explained, not missing a beat.

"Oh, really?" She asked. "How so?"

"You are, in essence, an individual, something that is very rare inside their ranks. You stick out in a society that prides itself on conformity. In short, you are an individual in a society where the individual is subsumed to the whole."

"And what makes you say that?" She asked, her bright green eyes narrowing as she examined him.

"Well..." He nodded. "Lets start with your hair." She casually fingered a redish-brown strand as he talked. "Blackstars never color their hair or use cosmetics or adorn themselves with body art or the like. As a whole, they are too vain, believing themselves to be too perfect and not in need of any form of artificial enhancement, no matter how minor. That you would even, say, colour your hair indicates that you think otherwise."

"Definitely." She stated. "I find that there's a basic sameness about them that is incredibly dull, very... repetitive. You understand?"

"I do. And if you'll permit me to elaborate, there are other things that I have noticed."

"Go on."

"You come into places like this to relax." He explained. "That is something no Blackstar would do. You choose the dingy, run down drinking holes of this district over the clean, safe ones of the city. You also like to talk to people, even outsiders such as myself. You try to interact with them, rather then simply demanding respect from them because of your status. And you're willing to push past the boundaries of what would be considered 'normal' for your type, breaking certain social taboos-"

"Let's not beat around the bush, Mr Jaeger." She cut him off. "The sex was great."

"Well, you could put it like that." He finished. "In short, you are a very atypical Blackstar. And I'd like to know why."

"Simply put?" She offered. "They're dull. Boring. Conformist. Almost drones, you could say. And that's what gets me. They've spent fifty years trying to make themselves the best warriors on the Shelflands without actually going anywhere. The result? A society that is stagnant and dull, lorded over by hordes of ravishingly beautiful, single-minded dullards. They revel in their grey concrete hell, not bothering to see what else there is in the world. Of course, since that world is also happily going nowhere, that's par for the course"

"You see, I want to at least live a little." She offered. "I like change. I like difference. I like to see what else there is. I want to live a little before I end up being pensioned off to make way for my clone brat. You understand what I mean?"

"Indeed I do, Sonya." He replied. "It may surprise you, but there are others who feel the same way. Not other Blackstars, true, but..." he glanced around. "I see what is happening to our world. I see how we are allowing ourselves to regress and decay, fearing change lest it destroy us all. We don't want to take the risks, and are happy to accept stagnation as the consequence. I - we want to change that."

"Interesting." She smiled a predatory smile. "And... what would you then want of me?"

"Are you prepared to take a risk?" He asked. "Are you ready to abandon this life? Would you give up all that comes with your current position? Would you sacrifice your own identity to help remake this world?"

"It sounds exciting." She finished. "I'm in."

oOoOo

Muttering to herself, Jenice again looked over the battered hulk of the Zoid. She'd found the machine half-buried in a pile of rubble, not too far from the abandoned shelter it was now resting in. The two of them together, Zoid and bunker, represented her only assets - beside her mind.

For Jenice, the fall form grace had been sudden and swift. She had not returned to Gayos a hero as she had expected. Instead, she had been arrested and court-martialed, along with the rest of her squad. The trials had been swift and summarily. Glass and Trogdor had fared the best of them; both were in essence acquitted, having been proven to be little more then innocent bystanders to what was quickly being called an act of utter madness. In fact, Sturm had been commented for standing his ground and not further aggravating the situation.

For his role in the affair, Schneider had been dishonorably discharged from the Zygra army. He had aided her in attacking the Blackstar forces that they had encountered in the ruins without protest. The pair of them were being collectively blamed for an incident that had become a major diplomatic upset, the Blackstars demanding the heads of those responsible.

The worst had been reserved for Jenice herself, however. While the accusations of provoking the Blackstars had been enough, there was far, far worse in store for her. All od the members of the squadron had testified that she had built her TSEMP weapon on her own, even over their protests (Glass especially). Furthermore, they had gladly informed the judiciary of her numerous other unothorised experiments in weapons design. A raid had netted several years' worth of work, enough evidence to damn her.

She had been sentenced to twenty years for simply trying to improve the lot of Zygra's pilots. Oh, they'd made their excuses; apparently, her weapon had caused enough feedback to fry the Blackstar pilot's neural interface, crippling him for life. However, to Jenice it was obvious what her crime was. She had dared to suggest change to a government that was afraid of it, demonstrating their shortcomings to people who preferred to remain ignorant of such matters.

That wasn't the end, however. In fact, it was just the beginning.

She was far more intelligent and imaginative then they'd given her credit for. She'd managed to effect her own escape, and slip away unnoticed. By the time anyone had reaslised she was gone, she was far away, enacting the first steps on her plans for revenge against the empire that had betrayed and used her.

And what she was doing here would be the first step in that revenge. She would craft a weapon that would not only be used to strike at the empire, but to demonstrate her genius and ability; the same skills that they had spurned when they imprisoned her.

She stepped back to look over the Zoid again. The Liger Zero's frame was battered and worn, the scarring on its sides deep. However, it was still fully functional, and that was all she needed. It would be an excellent base to work from to realise her dreams.

And when it is finished, then I will be unstoppable. She finished. I shall demonstrate their failings, and then I will remake this empire in my image. My red claw will scythe through them, and nothing will stand in my way.

oOoOo

"We're pinned down!" Drake called out over the communicator as another shell went off nearby. "They've got at least three cannons up on that ridge!"

"Damn it!" Jencie snarled. "They've got us completely surrounded now." She glanced over her tactical display, looking at the positions of the Zygra units. They'd managed to completely surround the section of the ruined city they were in, cutting off any avenue of escape. It was a well-designed trap, but not one that would be completely inescapable... at least, not normally.

She slammed her fist into her Liger's control panel as it repeated the same message over and over again - Combat System Freeze. Her Zoid's weapons systems had gone offline, simply crashing out and staying inoperable despite all her efforts to restart them. It meant that her Zoid - her creation - was now little more then a big red target.

"What are we gonna do?" Bob called out over the channel. "They've got us surrounded, boss!"

"Stay calm." She snapped as she opened up a comms channel. "Bart! Where are you?"

"On my way, boss." He replied. ""I have the McNeils; I figure we'll be five minutes tops."

"We don't have five minutes, Bart." She growled. "Get here now!"

What had been a simple retrieval operation had instead gone horribly wrong. A small group of her forces had headed back to the same ruined city that she had fought the Blackstars in, looking for the documents she had found there the first time. Instead, she had found that they were missing, and the Zygra army was there in their place. Somebody had tipped them off to the supposedly secret information she had come here for, and she had a fair idea of who it was.

"Surrender now!" A voice called out. "You are surrounded. There is no escape!" Another shell went off nearby, the shrapnel digging into the Liger's shoulder as if to underscore the point.

"So what do we do, boss?" Bob asked again.

"We make a break for it, and try to get lucky." She replied. "That's the best I have."

"Head to the south-west. Their forces are weakest there." A woman's voice cut into the channel. Calm and professional, Jencie didn't recognise it at all. "I shall clear you a path."

"Wait-" Jenice began.

"I suggest you hurry. There are more Zygra troops on the way." The woman continued. Moments later, a black Pteras swooped down over Jenice's force, heading to the southwest. The Zoid was unusual in that it carried a large radar dish on its back in place of one of the launchers. As Jenice watched it, the machine opened fire with its twin AGM pods, the missiles slamming into the Zygra forces.

"Get going, now!" Jenice called out as her liger burst into a run. Bob and Drake needed no further prompting, the Zoids chasing after hers as fast as they could. More shells went off, but it was clear that the Zygra troops had been caught off-guard by what was going on. After several hectic minutes, they were clear both from the city and from any pursuit.

Looking up, Jencie could see the Pteras nearby. The Zoid swooped down, matching speed and heading with her machine. She nodded to the Zoid, then opened a channel up to the pilot. "Whoever you are, I owe you my freedom, if not my life. Thank you."

"Of course." The woman replied. "I only did what was needed. After all, I would not want the Empire's future to end there and then."

Jenice narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

"My name is Levisha Towne." She offered. "And I have the same goals as you. I had come seeking an alliance, however, Instead I found that you were in trouble. I simply did what I could."

"Of course." Jencie replied as she cionsidred the options. "We'll redevous with the rest of my force, then we can discuss matters."

"Agreed. Just lead the way."

So I have another ally, Jencie thought as her Zoid charged through the wastes, the Pteras above it. Definitely an advantage. I'll have to discover more about this woman. It had been a mixed day for Jenice. Her army had been very close to destruction, only to be rescued at the last moment but what appeared to be a new ally. It was mixed with the disappointment, however, of not finding what she had come for. As her Zoid ran, she read over the note she had found again. It had been hidden in where the documents she had come for should have been, clearly left by someone who knew exactly what she was after.

Jenice,

The contents of these documents are far too dangerous to be in your hands. I know that you feel you have the best of intentions, but your path is one I cannot agree with. As a result, I have removed what you sought here, placing them into my care.

I urge you to turn back. Do not deostry the empire in the name of saving it.

The note was unsigned, but she knew exactly who had left it. So I have gained an ally and an enemy in the same day. This is a most interesting course of events.

oOoOo

"That is why I have bought you here, Jencie." The commander finished. "We need you. We need your skills and abilities to be a part of the better world we wish to build for the entire planet. The Red Claw was but a small part of that, one that is far below one of your standing."

"What is it?" She began. "What is it that you want of me? What could I do here that I couldn't accomplish with the Red Claw?"

"The Claw was but a step in the right direction." Levisha explained. "That is why I was sent to join you. My task was to guide you along the correct path, the one that would allow your abilities to grow and mature. However, now the Claw are no longer needed - and their position has become somewhat perilous. As a result, I needed to salvage its single greatest asset. You."

"I can understand that you have our questions as why we did things the way we did." The Commander continued. "However, I have prepared a gift for you, one that I feel will best demonstrate our need for your abilities. I give it to you, to do with as you wish." he indicated towards a single, sealed-off hanger. At his gesture. Several technicians opened the doors to the bay, revealing the Zoid inside.

It was a Liger Zero, one stripped of all its armour, but still clearly in good condition. Around it was an array of equipment, far more advanced then any she'd ever used before and far more capable. "All this, we would give to oyu to do with as you wish, Jenice." The Commander continued. "Though these devices, you will be able to unleash your full power."

"Why?" She turned back to him. "Why would you do this?"

Then, to her surprise, he and Levisha kneeled before her. A moment later, while somewhat surprised, Sturm joined them. "Because we understand what you are." Levisha said, not looking up. "We recongise the true strength within you. We want you to use that, not only for our benefit, not for the Empire, but for the whole world. Join us, and transform this planet. Together, we will rescue to from the stagnation that has taken hold of it."

"I..." She nodded. "I shall."

The commander looked up at her, then nodded. "Very well then." he said, slowly standing. A pair of soldiers walked up behind Jenice, draping a black cloak over her shoulders. It was a traditional design, yet one that had not been seen in decades. "I welcome you, Darth Selaj."