Harry will play a big part in this story, not because I like him as a character, but because he's the kind of guy who exaggerates and so forth. He will also be the one who will work out who Mute is and where he comes from, if you get my drift. So a lot of secrets will be revealed here, more than usual.

And yes, Mute is basically Kaworu Nagisa (Eva) with a bit of Mythos/Mute (Princess TuTu) on a cocktail of drugs, a more musical bent, and a chip on his shoulder. Oh yeah, and a bit of a botched dye job. Waaaaaaaaaaaai he's so cute~!

@Paladin Dragoon: That's something I was planning on. He does play a major part in the series, but his appearances are varied and rather violent when it comes to him having to find things. I think. I'm rather brain dead too…;;

@Maelgwyn: Mute and Ragnarok are the same thing. That's his name, the Silent Apocalypse. I was tired when I was making it up!! I'll see what I can do about scenarios. I haven't had the strength to write this one for a little while. Stuck in chapter four…Leena is very hard to write.

@Mark: Hahaha! Possible, very possible. We shall see…

@Rocke&Roll: You may have caught me out, but we shall see. Mute's been quiet recently, but I will try and write some more when I get my strength back. I liked your idea though…it's a genuine possibility.

I managed to get more volumes of the manga, so expect Lulu and Oluga to turn up in the land of Zenebas, somewhere in the very distant Rare Hertz Saga future. Gragh…wish I could write faster!

Chapter Three: The fallen musician

Harry Thomas Champ parked his DarkHorn, got out and blinked in the sunlight at the base of the Blitz Team, then decided to go inside, as per his routine. He wasn't sure why, other than he wanted to set his eyes on Leena, as destructive as she was, and see how things were doing. After all, he was in B Rank now, and there was no way he'd be able to go any further. He wasn't a threat (which kind of sucked) so perhaps they'd be nice…

Oddly enough it was very quiet. This put him on high alert, because when things were quiet, things were happening, and that could mean anything. The Zoids were all safely stowed away (very unusual, because the Zoids of the Blitz team led a secret life of their own) and to his amazement he noticed a red BladeLiger in the hanger, as well as a second GunSniper and the Gustav parked outside. That meant Leon, the eldest Toros was home, as well as the sexy southern belle known as Naomi Fluegal.

Harry wasn't too sure about women. He'd been bullied by his older sisters and brother as a child, so he always felt better around strong women, but Naomi was kind of strange. She was 'sexy' but he did not find her attractive. He often wondered why, but Harry was a very innocent person. He was yet to find out of course, but for the moment…

Going down the long corridors, he finally came into the main lounge, and came across the hypochondriac Jamie, the boy with the split personality and the taste in flying Zoids, playing a game of chess with Leon.

Harry always felt slightly awed by Leon, and also Jamie for that matter. Their skills for one thing – Oh, how he wanted to be as good as them! – But also the fact their family didn't think less of them for what they wanted to do. Harry was still sore over Mary being so…well…right about everything. He wasn't a good pilot, that he knew, and no amount of money would make him able to be as good as the two men in front of him, let alone Bit Cloud!

"Hey Harry." Leon said gently. Leon, the eldest Toros child, so strong and sure…Harry felt so awed by him. How could someone be so different to their sibling? He and Mary had many traits in common, their eyes for one thing, and their gestures, their smiles. The love of tea. Victoria and Edmund also shared the sparkling azure-green eyes of their mother's ancient line, the eyes of a true Shubaltz. Okay, so Alice had his father's brown eyes, but she shared the red-blond hair. You knew they were siblings. But how were Leena and Leon so different? Leena, so beautiful and fiery, who shared her father's violet eyes, with her hair a deep, reddy pink…kind of (and rather strangely) like the colour of hurt flesh, of a cleaned wound that begged to be closed and healed again. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought. Harry often had strange thoughts, that lead to other strange thoughts in the cacophony he called his mind. Now Leon, he took after his father, tall, powerful…wait, what was he saying? Leon was a class apart from Steve Toros and the beautiful Leena! Their minds…they worked in so many different ways. Why, Leon was so clever in his battling techniques, while Leena…and her father for that matter, headed in with no holds barred. Did he take after his mother, then?

A thought to ponder.

Harry, for all his bluster and arrogance, was a good thinker. Carefully slipping back into the conscious world from his thoughts, his eyes met Leon's, and he felt the young man look away. "Surprised you're here, Champ. What with the injuries and all…"

Harry nodded shyly. "Things are…fine. I…came around to see how the last battle went. Heard there was a scuffle of some sort."

"Leena is with my dad and Bit." A twisted smile echoed on Leon's lips, and Harry thought of Leena. The smile…that smile, sorry, was alike. It was not a nice smile either.

Did he just say Bit?

"Bit?!" Whoa, deep breath! Now is not the time to freak out! Harry tried to maintain his cool. Slightly quieter this time. "Bit…? Why?"

"There's been an accident." Jamie said sorrowfully. "In our last battle, we kinda won by default – there was little left of the team we were up against…"

"Ahh, sweet Leena…" Harry murmured happily. Of course, Leena had won the battle…so beautiful and powerful, his Leena…yes…his Leena… "Let me guess, a Full Weasel Assault?"

"Uh-huh." Both of the other guys said, unhappily, but if they were unhappy with his reaction or the events of the day, the youth wasn't sure. Best to play it safe.

"So who got hurt?" Harry cocked his head to the side in curiosity. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Leon's face darkened, and Harry realised it had something to do with Naomi. "Brad was pretty badly knocked out…by Leena, of all people. We also have ourselves a new Zoid, a cranky Redler that's currently trussed up in the smaller hanger around the back where we do the repairs. The pilot is currently sleeping off his injuries in the spare room, only a few bruises and the like. Surprising, considering the moves the damned Redler pulled off…" He fell silent, and lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, drinking deeply. "I don't know. Anyway, Leena's around. But not in a good mood. Not that it bothers you, I gather."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Harry growled back, without meaning to. He silently cursed himself, but held a straight face. Masking his emotions…the real ones that is…was something Harry was very good at. Because when people held you in contempt, you could listen in on everything and not be bothered at all. When you weren't a threat, you weren't in trouble.

"Nothing, Harry."

"I strongly doubt that."

"Harry." A warning tone. Leon closed his eyes, as if to block the youth out. Jamie on the other hand was not so nice.

"He means you're a doormat." The kid sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "You let Leena do anything to you and you take it without making a noise."

"So?" The red head felt a little upset at this. The topic of Leena was very close to his heart, even if he was so unsure about her sometimes.

"So, you're a doormat. You let people walk all over you. You're like me."

"First off, I don't let everyone walk over me, and second, I am not at all like you!" Harry muttered.

"Yeah, you're right." Jamie turned away. "I'm a better pilot."

Harry blushed and looked away again. "Maybe I do need to work on my skills, but I'm not a doormat."

"Suuuuuure, Harry. Sure." Having grown bored of the conversation; Jamie went back to trying to find the best way to beat Leon, which was quite easy seeing as the older man's heart really wasn't in it to win. He was thinking about Naomi…it was all over his face. Longing mixed with jealousy, something Harry knew a little too well.

Harry decided not to bother with trying to make any more conversation. He'd always found it hard to talk to people; they never really seemed that interested in him. He couldn't understand why, he was Harry Champ, the man destined to be king!

Yeah!

Yeah…

Regaining his composure, he strolled out of the room, ignoring the giggles from the two chess players, and went in the direction of the yells and cussing that could only be Leena and Bit.

Bit. What a cad! An uncouth, common piece of rubbish! Why had Doctor Toros allowed him to stay on the team and work with them if he was such a danger to the other members of the team? Well, apart from the fact he had debts to pay…oh, and the LigerZERO seemed to really like him…and, well, he did seem awfully good at his job, when he thought about it…and…it didn't matter!

He was still no good!

And no good for Leena!

Um…

Shaking his head, Harry stepped lightly into the smaller living areas, and wandered down the hall, but felt the oh-so-familiar feelings of worry as he stepped into the darkness and found himself moving into the black. The air felt unnatural, highly charged with energy, and there was a hissing noise, no, something more, the sound you could hear when someone sits close to you with their portable CD player jacked up to eight out of ten on the volume control.

The noise was coming from the room with the door partly open. Taped on it was a badly written sign saying 'Dont dis-terb' in Bit's hand writing, which once more emphasised the fact that for all his worth, Bit Cloud had never gone to school, simply following in his father's footsteps in being a junk dealer.

Harry felt a lot of hurt in this. He'd had an education…still studying in fact, and for all the money in the world, all the times he'd tried to get high marks and failed and so on…he still wasn't the best. It was such a defeatist attitude, he knew, but hey – he'd done all the work, but people like Bit just sailed through life like nothing mattered…

…Talk about a silver spoon…

"…Heeeey…" Called a voice from the door. It was a strange voice, hissing and thin, but also like someone talking from far away.

Harry jumped, and turned around. "Who said that?!"

"Tom…? Tom old friend…? That you…? So dark…almost couldn't hear you over the radio…Tom…" Different now, deeper. But still thin and far away. Almost another person entirely…didn't Leon say that only one person had been brought in?

Harry walked back to the door and slid up to it. The dark smelt musty, old, but there was something else, something he recognised…

"Hello…?" He called out, softly.

"…Hi…" Came the voice.  It had changed again, now was nice, quite smooth, but obviously the person hadn't spoken for quite a while. "…Come in if you want…hey…you're not Tom…"

Harry blinked and waited for his eyes to adjust in the spare room the Blitz Team had for visitors. The single cot, bedside cabinet, the old wardrobe that had been in Leena's room until the hide and seek incident with the screaming and the suffocating, the boxes full of junk – it suddenly occurred to Harry that this room also doubled as the 'stuff' room. He finally made out the form on the bed, a youth shorter than he was with a messy mop of hair that seemed light at the back and dark at the front. Soft, liquid eyes regarded him sleepily, and a frail hand beckoned him closer. Harry obliged, pulled up a chair and looked down, noticing all the details, like the old shirt he was clad in for decency's sake, and the headphones now hanging around his neck. From them came a tinny bass line coupled with an unearthly voice talking about revenge, or something like it. The words he couldn't make out, but the feeling was there.

This person was very familiar. Strange, but familiar.

"Nooo…you're not Tom…but you look a lot like him…" A ragged cough, a shaking head. Trembling hands took off the headset and placed it on the bedside table alongside the portable CD player which looked like it had had it's share of adventures in the world.

"Do you need some water or something? My name's Harry by the way…Who's Tom?"

The kid smiled. He was probably a year younger than Harry, but his eyes…his eyes were ancient. "Water'd be nice, but it's not filtered here. It'll give me a rash. Rashes…are no good. Believe me…" He sat up a little more, showing how unnaturally thin he was. The shirt just hang there, across his lanky frame, showing a bony shoulder through the collar "How you doing, Harry? Tom was an old friend of mine…I'm a little dis…disorientated…I've been asleep for a very long time…"

Very odd. What in the world was he talking about? "They brought you in this morning!"

"Sleeping before that…You could extract anything from me in this mood!" He laughed, but ended up coughing. "M'Mute."

'Mute', eh? Must be his name, because mute meant not being able to speak. And he was talking just fine. "Mootay? That's a funny name…"

The boy shrugged. "A name's a name. Soo…do you want the numbers for lotto, or don't they do that anymore? Time kinda slips away from you when you're in the state I'm in."

This was out of his depth. "Look…I, I, uh, I'm going down to see Doc Toros…do you want me to tell him you're awake?" Harry felt nervous. There were butterflies in his stomach, and for some strange reason he both loved the feeling and loathed it. "He runs this base. He has two kids, Leon, he's the eldest, and Leena, who's really beautiful and the girl I'm going to marry some day…" Those eyes were like black holes. Baby universes. You were sucked into them, and all you could do was keep telling this frail creature everything, your inner most secrets, your fears, everything until he looked away. "…marry…some…"

"Yeah?" The boy looked away thus breaking the spell and staring into the wall, as if it were a window, his face suddenly expressive, a leering grin and a glint of eye that could only be described as evil.  For a moment, Harry looked too, as if expecting to see something, ignoring the expression, but not forgetting it. "Doc Toros huh? I knew a Doc Toros. And he died. Quite spectacularly too."

~*~

Mute Ragnarok (as that was his full name) was a shade shorter than Bit, unnaturally thin, and very pale. But most striking was his hair, his mopish fringe a rich red, the rest grey white just past his ears in a ragged cut, and of course, those liquid grey eyes. If the hair was a dye job, Harry wasn't sure, but sitting in the main living area, he was sure to find out because it was question and answer time with everyone playing host-with-the-most. The only person missing was Brad, who was currently bedridden and waiting for one of the flying doctors to make an appearance and fix him up.

Because bases were so far apart and cars and trucks too slow to get the injured to safety, a fleet of Pteras had been commissioned complete with full medical gear to stabilize sick and wounded pilots and air-lift them to safety or treat them there. It was the only way to keep people alive. Brad was now high on the 'most seen' lists because of his accident in the Gold Cup. He was currently moaning and groaning like a bitch in heat, clawing at his wounds. Harry wasn't sure why – when he was five he had fallen out of the tree house his father and older brother had helped make and landed awkwardly, breaking his leg and hurting things inside. Being so shaken up meant that he'd had to be operated on, just like the mercenary. Harry was always one to suffer in pain when the real injuries came along, simply because he knew that no one really cared, and he was expected to get on with it. He'd been out after a day's observation, and had a little limp now from the old fracture that had been re-broken by the crash. It had healed quickly – the protein baths they used nowadays worked wonders. He limp was more pronounced now than ever, and he felt acutely conscious of the stares he was getting from the others. He'd always been able to hide it, it was hardly there, unless he'd been walking for a long time, or it was cold. Rubbing it anxiously, he silently thought Brad was being a bit of a baby. He was milking it for all it was worth, the bastard.

Mute, sitting across from him, nursed a watered down orange juice and then leaned back into the sofa, lost in the clothing that covered him, a mix of Jamie and Brad's. The only reason he wasn't wearing things appropriate for his size was that Bit barely had anything to begin with, and what he did have tended to smell of Bit. Badly of Bit.

Bit had the kind of odour problem that made the strongest deodorant break down and cry, and Harry had heard Brad mention once, that Bit used turpentine to keep his stench away. The Doc said it was hormones, Harry believed that he'd been born in a barn.

But hey, Jesus was born in a barn. And Harry was sure that religious education never mentioned him with a BO problem. They could have taken it out of the texts, but it was supposed to be the word of God, right? Rufus chapter 28, verse 47 to 49, 'and Rufus sayeth 'Fuck, boss, you don't half stink!' to which the Son of God replied: 'Bet you ten bucks I can stink out that tavern over there.' And Rufus replied: 'you're on. A tenner says three people down the back will still be listening to the sermon by the time you finish.' And then Jesus said: "Bullshit, no one will be left standing! I am the Son of God, man!' But then Matthew cut in and said 'J-baby, the DNA test has a 1.98 chance of being wrong.' And Jesus then said: 'Shh, they don't know that…'*

Mute smiled, a long, slow smile. The kind of smile that hadn't been seen on Zi for…well, for over four hundred years. "Ahh, the old interrogation. How I've missed it. Who goes first?"

Silence. The Bit leaned forward and smiled.

"My name's Bit! This here's the Blitz Team! We're in Class S."

"Well howdy partner." Mute answered back. Harry suppressed the urge to giggle, but Leon and Naomi could not. Both burst out laughing at the straight-faced child, who in turn shifted from old west cowboy to his normal gentle voiced self. "Class S? Excuse my ignorance, but is that good? S is like…give me a moment…S is the nineteenth letter of the alphabet. Would it be better to be a class A, or a class Z?"

Now everyone laughed, and Mute cocked his head to the side, not understanding.

"Class S is the highest ranking in Zoid battling. Where have you been living, under a rock or somethin'?!" Leena howled in her usual way. "Where the heck did you go to get that hair? I need their number!"

Doc smiled at his daughter in a fond yet exasperated way. "Now, now Leena. Dyeing your hair in outlandish colours comes under piercings' and tattoos…not until you're eighteen. Oh, no offence, son."

An odd sigh was her answer. "It's no dye job…it's all natural. And before you ask if the curtains match the carpet, I'd say that's a little too personal. My heritage is rather unusual to say the least." He then brightened. "And no, I've just never battled before. I came from…well; I came from the Wind Colony. We don't get too many Zoid pilots out there…we don't get much of anything out there, except inbreeding and lettaces. Very big on lettuces, the Wind Colony. Even bigger with the inbreeding. Lived there almost all my life…Guylos born, though, so I'm slightly saner and definitely better looking than the two headed bar tender with three fingers." Satisfied by his answer, people relaxed and the air lost it's tension with the smiles and chuckles he had produced. Mute put down his empty glass and smiled impishly. "I'm sorry for ruining your battle."

"Oh, it's okay, we were going to loose anyway. We haven't been so lucky since entering Class S" The Doc sighed. "Wind Colony…Wind Colony…can't say I remember that place…the name's familiar but I can't remember where it is…anything about it…"

"It's that kind of place." Mute replied. "Complete backwater. Was taken there when I was three."

There it was again! Harry's head jerked up and he focused completely on the youth in front of him. It was like he was listening to something, speaking in short hand as he received the instructions of what to say. But his stare was plainly obvious to the new comer who raised an eyebrow and locked eyes with him. Again, that sense of loss.

But this time a smile. "Battling, huh? Wow. Make a lot of money?"

"Oh, we get by."

"Uh-huh." Mute leaned forward, cupping his chin. "Your tone says differently."

"Well…" The Doc averted his eyes. "We, uh, we kinda have a lot of debts to pay off. Repairs and all. Parts. You know."

"Repairs?" Mute cocked his head to the side. "What's the problem with your Zoids? They all look in fine working order to me."

"That's the problem, they look it, but they're not. It's just the little ones that count really, working with the joints and the like and…hey! Why the hell am I telling you this?!"

"'Cos he asked, Doc." Bit chirped.

"Oh yeah! Ah-hah-hah…hah…yeah."

Mute leaned back again. "And you're one pilot down now, right? Seeing as your friend is currently crying his eyes out on his bed because it hurts so much…it must cost a lot to keep fixing him up and then having him break down again…Geez, I had no idea I'd caused so much trouble." When he looked up, he was wearing an expression of complete hopeful innocence. "There's gotta be something I can do to help, right? I need to repay you for getting those Zabats off my arse, and for the damage I did."

"Judges get blown up all the time…"

"That's not what I meant, miss." Mute fiddled with the hem of his oversized shirt. "I…I can be your mechanic…Pretty good with fixing things up…and I can sing for my supper if needs be, literally. I came out of the sticks to find a career in the music industry." That achieved a snort of laughter from everyone, and Mute sighed. "That was the town's reaction too. I have to do something to pay you guys back – I can play the mechanic, and if you're really hard pushed, I can pilot. Just tell me how to do it, the rules I mean. I use that old thing for crop dusting, but I can pull the odd move with it that might be able to help. I'm good with Zoids, really."

"I thought you said your home town didn't have that many Zoids." Leon cut in.

Mute seemed to freeze for a minute then laughed. "Never said I learnt to pilot there. A lot of travellers come through that hole in need of food and water. I made money out of being a mechanic. Look, lad, I know it may sound hard to believe that a guy like me can work wonders with a beat up piece of shit – sorry, 'scuse my Helic – the pile of scrap metal in the back shed like that Redler. That thing is a relic from the wars between Helic and Guylos over four hundred years ago, and it still works."

Leon sat back, and their wills clashed again. "Why were you being chased by those Zabats? What did you do?"

Mute's face went bright red. "It was a gig. I was playing, did a bit of the old Ragnarok charm, and then the boyfriend found out. He gave chase…you see what I mean. It's not like I was doing anything wrong, I was just talking to her!"

"So you have wandering eyes, huh." Leon replied, his eyes dark. It was clear he was thinking

"No! No I don't! I swear I thought she was on her lonesome! She bought me a couple of drinks, we got talking, next thing I know this man three times the size of me is screaming in my face about property and stuff. I don't normally pick up at gigs! I don't normally pick up full stop!" Mute folded his legs and met Leon's stare with a stare of his own. "You know, it's all very well not to trust people, but you're paranoid. You're acting like I'm some sort of criminal. You saw my Zoid. Do you think that thing is capable of taking out another Zoid? I just wander around with my guitar. Check the cockpit. My sweetheart's is there. No weaponry. Just me, my music, my Redler, and the open skies. Look, that fox type Zoid got pretty smashed up, so I think I need to repay the pilot for the damage I caused, you know?"

For a moment there was silence.

Harry had never seen anyone look so helpful and somewhat pathetic. Somehow he'd won the Doc over and he knew it.

"I suppose we could use another person on the team, especially someone who can actually fix them…working for free? Good…but just 'till Brad's better, understand?"

"Yeah, when I've paid you back for the damage I'll be off, no worries. Just keep me fed and watered and that's all I ask for."

Harry nodded. That was just the right thing to say in the situation, regardless of the confused looks he was getting from the other warriors.

"Oh, good!" Doc gave him the thumbs up. "I can tell you and I are going to get on great!"

Distantly, in Harry's mind, something screamed.

~ to be continued

*If you have seen Dogma, you may appreciate who Rufus is. I apologise to any religious people out there, the text was meant as a joke. The passage is made up, completely so, and was inspired by Will Anderson's comment (Triple J, Australia) on how to get around your mother asking you if you were born in a barn when you've left the door open. The appropriate answer is to bat your eyelashes and say 'But mum, Jesus was born in a barn' to which there is no real come back, apart from the fact that at least Jesus was respectful to his mother.

Like 7even Days, don't expect an update anytime soon. My studies are mounting up, and I seem to be run down again. It's probably due to the stress before Supernova last weekend (13th 14th of September) I didn't win, but I got some good tips from the artist of WitchKing, so that was cool. Thank you for your kindness, Paul! You rock.

And to the person who stole my CD wallet and then left it under a freakin' car in the carpark, what were you thinking? My CD player is rarely kept in the same place – most of the time I'm listening to it!

But thank you for leaving it and the contents behind. Most of those CDs are out of print now, and all are held dear to my heart…I suppose…while I was initially calling you all names under the sun, you left it behind for me to find – even if I was halfway out of the city before realising it! You almost made me collapse, you know that? Argh…need rest…