Stevan gazed out across the desert as his Command Wolf came to a stop. The Zoid and its pilot were standing on the rim of a huge dustbowl, almost a kilometer wide. Heat rising into the air blurred the horizon. Behind them, the desert rose steadily in elevation, formed by years of natural forces into a series of giant, broad steps. The landscape seemed peaceful, in a barren, lifeless kind of way.
It wouldn't be peaceful for long.
Calypso's customized GunSniper walked up alongside Stevan and his Zoid, its black and silver paint scheme in contrast to the Command Wolf's gray-white. "Look's like we've arrived at the party early," she said on Stevan's cockpit screen.
A second screen appeared. "It doesn't feel that way up here," said Leah. She had flown ahead of her teammates in her Redler and has been circling the area for ten minutes already.
Stevan and Calypso let that pass without further comment. Stevan was gazing at his cockpit displays idly when the Command Wolf raised its head toward the sky.
He smiled. With no control input from him whatsoever, the Command Wolf had sensed something and moved to see what it was. That was why he loved piloting Zoids. Beyond the excitement of battle, it was the fact that each Zoid was undeniably alive. That was what made them irrevocably different from every other kind of vehicle or war machine ever made, and that was what drew him to them. He remembered how it felt the first time he had piloted a Zoid, the feeling that he was just as much along for the ride as he was giving the commands, that he was entering a into partnership with another living creature that he had to prove himself worthy of.
The Command Wolf had raised its head to look at the sparkling point of light falling from the sky. It left a white vapor trail that divided the azure sky in half as it descended. "Here comes our host," Stevan said.
The point of light continued to fall, getting larger and larger as it lost altitude and got closer to them. The shrieking whoosh sound of its progress reached the Chimeras' ears as it got closer to the end of its journey from Zi's upper atmosphere. Finally, it crashed down in the center of the dust bowl, forming a crater that Stevan knew would be only the largest and most centralized of many by the time the coming battle was over.
Slowly, the Judge capsule rose from the bottom of the crater. Its mechanical leg struts locked into their upright position and the capsule opened. The skinny white Judge robot rotated to view the battlefield. "The area within a ten kilometer radius is a designated Zoid battlefield," it announced in its artificial, unemotional voice. "This zone is now restricted. Only competitors and personnel have authorized access. Danger! All others must leave the area at once."
Stevan keyed in his registration code and transmitted his warrior data to the robot. His teammates did the same thing. "Chimeras Team confirmed," the Judge said. It made another visual scan of the dustbowl, sweeping the area with its electronic sensors. "The Spirit Cats team has not yet arrived."
"No kidding, genius," Leah mocked.
The Judge ignored this, having been programmed to disregard all such remarks. "We will wait until the Spirit Cats arrive on the battlefield before we begin."
"Or," Calypso said, in a tone that let Stevan know she was up to something, "we could use you for target practice to pass the time."
The Judge swiveled to look at the GunSniper. "Intentionally damaging a Judge robot or capsule is an offense under Section 6 of the Zoid Battle Rules and Regulations." It was programmed to recognize threats.
Stevan could imagine Calypso rolling her eyes. "Cool off, I was just kidding." The robot wasn't programmed to detect or understand sarcasm, either.
They hadn't waited for more than a minute when Leah called "Here they come." The Chimeras and the Judge gazed off into the distance and made out the shape of a WhaleKing, descending slowly in stark contrast to the Judge capsule's meteoric plunge. Stevan expected the WhaleKing to land some distance away, but it just kept coming.
"They're landing right here?" Calypso said as the WhaleKing settled on its landing struts on the opposite side of the dustbowl.
Oh, she's a tricky one, Stevan thought. There was no rule against landing or parking your transport vehicle on the battlefield itself, but most warriors kept theirs a safe distance away. The transport could take damage from stray fire, and repairs were expensive.
But the rules did prohibit intentionally firing at an opposing team's transport. With their WhaleKing so close by, the Spirit Cats could use it as cover to deliver a withering barrage of fire if they wanted, or possibly even return to it to make quick repairs, while the Chimeras would have be to be extra careful with their shots to avoid hitting the WhaleKing and possibly getting disqualified. Many would have considered the strategy underhanded, and it was in a way. But Stevan still felt a grudging admiration for his opponents. They either had the guts to not care about the WhaleKing getting damaged, or they had a lot more money than most Class B Teams.
Stevan stared at the giant aircraft, waiting for the mouth to open so that he could see what Zoids the Spirit Cats were fielding. In Class A, data on the registered teams was available to all combatants, but the Class B and C warriors had no such luxury. Stevan had tried looking for recordings or press blurbs about the Spirit Cats' matches, but found none.
The Chimeras waited two full minutes, then three. Again, Stevan awarded a mental point to the Spirit Cats. They were employing a psychological tactic now, taking their own sweet time to deploy and letting the Chimeras cool their heels. Well, they're certainly not going to psych us out that easily, Stevan thought. Once the fight started, he would be calling the shots.
"We've got company," Leah said.
"I noticed," Calypso responded.
"Not the Spirit Cats. There's another WhaleKing headed this way."
The Command Wolf and its pilot looked skyward again. Indeed, they could make out the shape of a second WhaleKing, dark against the blue sky.
What's this about? Stevan thought. Looks like somebody lost their way.
"I'll go check it out," Leah said. She put her Redler in a climb toward the new arrival. As she got closer to it, the Judge became aware of the interloper's presence.
"Attention unidentified WhaleKing," the Judge said, "this airspace is part of a designated Zoid battlefield. Please leave the area at once." There is no audible response. Above them, Stevan and Calypso could just barely discern the tiny dot that was the Redler circling the much larger WhaleKing.
"I don't see any markings," Leah said. "Let me get a little closer-" A golden-orange flash illuminated the WhaleKing's black side, and Leah's transmission was cut off by static.
"Leah!" Stevan yelled. The Redler was closely descending, trailing smoke.
"They fired at me!" Leah said, reappearing on-screen. "My right wing is damaged. I'm going to have to find a place to land."
"Roger," Stevan acknowledged.
"Whoever's in that WhaleKing sure is touchy," Calypso commented.
"Attention WhaleKing," the Judge began, sounding angry. Stevan wondered if it was possible for the Judge to actually alter its voice to simulate emotions or if it was just the power of suggestion in his mind, even as he spotted a black dot fly out of the WhaleKing's nose. "Your actions are in direct violation of Section Seven, Articles-"
The Judge never finished its speech. The dot plunged down on the Judge Capsule like a missile locked on to its target and landed directly on top of it, pushing it back into the hole at the bottom of the crater instantly.
When the dust cleared, Stevan and Calypso saw that the object the WhaleKing had dropped was a black and red version of the standard Judge capsule. The cylindrical container opened and a similarly colored Judge robot surveyed the area, laughing insanely. "This battle has been taken over by the Backdraft Group!" it intoned.
You've got to be kidding me, Stevan thought. The Backdraft Group had almost fallen apart after their scheme to take over the ZBC during the Royal Cup had failed two years ago. Many of their operatives had been arrested. Others – Vega Obscura, for example – had simply disappeared. Their attacks had become far less frequent since then. "Calypso, how's Leah?" Stevan asked as he considered all of this.
"I don't see her," Calypso responded. "I lost track of her when the judge got taken out."
Stevan muttered a curse. Well, it didn't look like she was out of control, he thought. Stevan had no time to worry about his teammate any further. The Backdraft WhaleKing was coming in for a landing on the dustbowl rim, perpendicular to the Spirit Cat transport.
They're going to ground instead of deploying a Zabat screen, Stevan thought. This is different than their usual battle plan.
Dust swirled around the WhaleKing as set down on the rim, just under a kilometer away from the Stevan and Calypso. Its mouth opened, and Stevan peered into the darkness within. Slowly, a pair of black-painted Command Wolves paced down the ramp and stood on the edge of the depression.
Stevan's Command Wolf stared across the bowl, seeming to size up its opposition, then raised its head and howled. The two black Command Wolves returned the challenge, their voices rising in harmony and echoing off mesas kilometers away. There was still no sign of activity from the Spirit Cats WhaleKing.
"The Chimeras Team versus the Blackhearts Team," the dark Judge announced. "Battle Mode: 0999."
"Care to tell us why you selected our battle to screw up when you had so many to choose from?" Calypso asked the robot.
"Today was just your lucky day," the Judge replied. Well, I'll say one thing for the Backdraft Group, thought Stevan. Their Judges have a better sense of humor than the normal ones. "Ready…"
Tracers swarming across his view screen startled Stevan as he watched the Backdraft Command Wolves for movement. The hail of bullets and energy converged on the dark Judge and blew it to burning scrap. Stevan looked to his right and saw smoke trailing from the GunSniper's weapons.
"Why'd you do that?" he asked.
"It wasn't his lucky day."
Stevan grinned and shoved his control yoke forward smoothly, guiding the Command Wolf down into the bowl. It covered the slope in two long leaps and tore across the valley. "I'll try to bring them down here," he told Calypso. "Then you'll have an easier shot."
"Copy."
The two black Wolves bounded into the dustbowl, firing ranging shot from their beam cannon. The blasts bracketed Stevan's Zoid, but didn't even scratch the paint. Good boys, he told them. Make yourselves nice targets. He swept his targeting crosshairs over the leading Backdraft Command Wolf and pulled the trigger. The shot missed, sending two clouds of dust and sand flying in to the air. The enemy Zoid ran through the clouds and returned fire.
Stevan angled his Zoid to the left, away from its collision course with the enemy. Stevan felt the resistance in the control yoke, and knew how badly his Command Wolf wanted to charge headlong into battle against its Backdraft counterparts.
The gatling guns on the GunSniper's shoulders came to life again, spitting streams of shells at the trailing Command Wolf. The burst stitched twin lines of pockmarks on the bowl floor, but failed to reach the Backdraft Zoid. The two Command Wolves made skidding turns and ran at the GunSniper.
Stevan frowned. Hello? Easy backshot. Anybody home? The Command Wolf swung to pursue the enemy Zoids almost before Stevan could direct it to. Calypso blazed away at the onrushing Wolves but failed to connect as they weaved back and forth. Stevan fought to keep his targeting reticule on the trailing Wolf, and was finally rewarded with a targeting lock. Got you. He pulled the trigger and held it down.
The twin beam cannons on his Command Wolf's back fired three times, and this time the shots flew true. The black Command Wolf jerked, halted, and fell to the ground, reduced to the inanimate metal object that it would appear to the untrained eye and would remain until its Command System was re-started.
The other Command Wolf lurched back on its haunches, carving furrows into the desert with its feet. It fired up the slope at Calypso's GunSniper and simultaneously activated its smokescreen generator tubes, obscuring Stevan's view of it and preventing him from seeing the result of its shot.
He swore and brought his Command Wolf to a skidding halt of its own as the black smoke totally surrounded him. His radar was only really useful on flat terrain, and was useless in the confines of the bowl.
Slowly, the white Command Wolf stalked to the left, snarling. Where'd you go? Stevan eased the Command Wolf to a stop. It crouched, looking for its erstwhile opponent.
"Stevan," Calypso said, appearing on his display. "My Combat System is offline. I'm out of the fight." With its Combat System frozen, the GunSniper could still move, but it couldn't fire its weapons, and the raptor Zoid wasn't designed for physical combat, either.
"Understood," Stevan said curtly. "Can you tell where the other Command Wolf-…"
He stopped mid-sentence as the Backdraft Command Wolf leaped out of the smoke behind him with a triumphant cry. Operating on his reflexes and instinct combined with his Zoid's, Stevan spun the Command Wolf one hundred eighty degrees to meet the enemy Zoid's attack.
The two Command Wolves crashed into each other, and the sound of reverberating metal filled the dustbowl. The view of the smoke through his view screen turned upside down. Stevan felt his Zoid roll and discerned that it was carrying some kind of weight with it. He thumbed a button on his control yoke.
The white Command Wolf's teeth crackled with lightning as its Electron Strike Fangs activated. The Zoid's jaws, already clamped around the black Command Wolf's neck as the two struggled at the bottom of the bowl, exerted all of their crushing force, punching through the black Wolf's neck and shorting out its main control cable. The Backdraft Zoid went limp.
Breathing hard, Stevan felt his Zoid cease its fight against the unseen adversary. The Command Wolf slowly returned to its feet, and Stevan stared down at the defeated black Wolf on the ground in front of him as the smoke cloud finally began to clear. His Zoid called again, this time a victory howl.
Stevan stared into the cockpit, trying to see if the pilot was all right. He couldn't see any motion at all. Frowning, he peered harder at the orange cockpit canopy, his eyes straining to see inside.
There is no pilot. There was nothing in the Black Command Wolf's cockpit at all.
How could there be no pilot? He knew the Backdraft used a droid-controlled version of the Zabat, but those Zoids relied on orders from a human commander and were designed to succeed in combat based on superior numbers. To his knowledge, there was no droid brain sophisticated enough to guide a Zoid in the type of intense, up-close-and-personal combat common in traditional Zoid battles.
His comm beeped and a new window opened, showing Rebecca's face. She applauded appreciatively. "Well done. You weren't just bragging the other day."
He stared at her image incredulously. "Why didn't you help?" he asked.
She smiled at him. "It was two against two-a fair fight. I wanted to see if you really were any good."
Stevan shook his head and turned the Command Wolf toward the slope where Calypso was waiting. "Let's get out of here."