Dear Max. . . eh. . . your zoid mutated into a weird new model and it's better than ever. Nah. Your zoid was struck by lightning but survived with some new qualities. No. Maybe I'll just send him a picture of it and let it talk for itself. I was sitting in the cockpit of that very zoid, tapping away on a web screen what I wanted to tell Max. I'd gone through 97 drafts.

How do you explain something like this? Riz and Clara took pictures and sent them to 'The Family'. Most of their relatives responded, they all just said they'd never seen one, and who cares where it came from? I cared, what if this thing has a warhead in it, or it's going to go nuts and end up running around destroying towns? Or what if it just breaks down? Either way, I was equally worried. I finally closed the typing window and leaned back. This chair was great, but it had custom settings on it. I've been trying to program the exact shape of my back into it.

This thing probably had more casual uses in it than the Molga. And it had the sweetest device I'd ever laid eyes on. A little rack that holds beverages. I love this planet. I heard a little beep from the console, I had my email programmed in so I could let my PDA charge. Besides, a lot of people just sit in their zoids typing in the hanger at two in the morning. Three messages, one lame team offer, this one was called the Super Sharks. An email from Clara's sister, I adjusted the neck supports in her Desert Liger, and a message from Max. Oh boy. . . well, it popped up automatically so I can't put it off.

"Hello Trey. I just heard from my friend who fixed up your Saix. I'm not surprised. I've seen zoids change like that at least once a month in my profession. Normally they just get some new features or a paint job, but your/my Saix seems to have gone up an entire level. A friend of mine once has a Saix similar to mine evolve. All it did was give it a sniper rifle and a paint job. My friend who fried the thing sent me a picture. A Saix with blades, Trey. I should have kept that zoid for myself and given you that X my brother talked about!"

A few more paragraphs of Zoid Chit-Chat.

". . . this kid is 14 but his rich parents bought him a GenoSaurer! At least it was just a clone, not a one from the Ruins"

And about his nephew and his moron sister who spoiled the boy. The kid was fourteen, but wanted to start a zoid team. And he wasn't exactly a gifted pilot.

"I'm gonna be stuck here for a while apparently. Maybe a few months at least. Looks like you have a new home away from home, I slept in that Saix many a night and it never looked like that. If you need any creds, and if heck freezes over, you could call the ZBC to classify your new toy, they'll pay you for the examination. Good luck naming that thing!"

I spent two hours worrying and he's actually amused at this?! Well, at least he's not outraged. Then I read the message from Clara's sister, she said the neck work was doing great. She referred to me as 'Clara's psycho mechanic'. They were all amazed at how I worked that long. A psycho? Seems accurate. Actually, it has a ring to it. Psycho Brand? Nah. Psycho Saix? Heck yeah! It fit perfectly! The odd armor, the blades instead of major guns, the paint job. A few other zoids had that name anyway, it would blend in. Okay, I sucked at naming zoids. I closed the message and leaned back, looking out at the Snipe Master parked next to us. Or was it a Gun Sniper? Who cares. That Sam guy had stopped by earlier when he saw the Saix. So did a lot of people. The guy who gave me Max's message even said it looked like an X. Does an Ultimate X have a look to it? I doubt it.

I noticed I was hungry. I'd spent all day fixing the Family's zoids, and then I got this thing. I tapped the card in my pocket and felt it crouch down so I could jump out. I closed the hatch, got it standing again and went into the Molga for a quick six hours of sleep. I managed to sleep with my shirt off, normally it's freezing at night. Well, it is in the Desert, not at the Bay. I woke up to some one tapping me with their foot. I grunted and turned away from the foot. Need sleep, foot is evil for waking me up.

"I left breakfast on the counter, I have stuff to do in the city, be back tomorrow."

Not sure if it was Riz or Clara, might be Clara by the way she didn't slam the hatch when she left. Either way she left fast food. A slow morning of eating, waking up from a lack of sleep, and watching a bad movie on the screen. I walked out to the Saix, planning on going for a run by myself. I reached into my pocket for the rusty remote card, and felt something weird. Something flexible, band-like. Round disc. . . I pulled it out and saw a simple black watch. Digital mirrored face with a silver tint, black band metal band, and a few buttons on the side ideal for tapping. Dear god. First the zoid and now the remote?! What next, is my jacket going to turn black and grow spikes?

I just sighed and slipped the watch on. It fit great, what a surprise. I tapped the main button and it crouched down. This thing better not have email, I already feel like a guy frozen in an iceberg and thawed. I hopped in and started it up. Everything sprang to life, unlike that death flicker I got when I first rode this thing. I just walked through the isles of metal animals, waved to the guard and just took off into the desert. Not fast enough to start holding on, just a quick trot. A few jumps, flips, some darting around like I was dodging an attack. It only took me an hour to learn the new controls. I flipped down the blades. Black, they didn't even glow. I spun around, seeing where they were whenever I turned. I flipped them back onto the sides and shot off a few rounds. The guns were built onto its back, you ever see a Zaber Fang? How there are no guns on the back? That was the first thing I thought with this thing. Just blades stacked against the top and sides, with some holes tucked under them. Actually, they're pretty nice short range guns. Even a basic missile launcher, right near the base of the tail. And no ugly rifles strapped on, even better. I found an empty canyon and practiced a bit of everything, jumps, dodges, slides, the whole routine. Then I got an email while cutting a small crop of rock down with the blades.

"Where are you?! It's been eight hours!"

. . . I'd been gone eight hours? Time flies when you're working hard. I did sprints while going back. I parked it in the usual spot to see Riz, Clara, and a few relatives sitting on the Molga's tail. They made me an offer.

Two Weeks Later

". . . and the Trey Brand Ruling has officially been added to the Sector Documents."

They named a new rule after me, great. What happened? Check out this news clipping.

Saix Pilot Cleans Out Sectors

At the Eastern Sectors yesterday afternoon, literally two out of every three individual events were won by Trey Brand, a new pilot with a prototype zoid. He was unavailable for background information. Clara, Kylia, and Sam Truant, the winners of the Western Sectors relays for the last two years, gave us commentary. Clara said she had recommended to Trey that he try out the Eastern, which she herself never competed in. Her and several of the Truant Family gave Trey an outline of the Games two weeks ago, and did not assist him in any other way. They commented he was not from the area. When he made an appearance at the Pre-Games Ceremony, his zoid was an attention catcher. It is believed to be a ZBC prototype of an upgraded Saix, though that is purely a guess from the audience. It wasn't the zoid that was in the eye by half-point, as Trey exhibited skills that won 14 of the 21 non-team events. This is a new record for a single year, let alone for a new pilot. The ZBC Sectors Offices instated a new rule after the Games citing that no pilot may win more than half of the events, meaning now haymaker pilots will have to cease after winning half of their registered events. The supposed prototype is an impressive model covered in our Technology Section on page V5. Brand, who may be connected to Max Brand of Team Checkmate, was not available for any comments. Wherever Trey Brand came from, he is surely a new crowd favorite.

Creepy, eh? Yeah, I tried out the Sectors. Not the one Clara is in though, the local one. It was your basic skills contest, speed, laps, maneuvers, some gun work that I didn't work well with. Blade use I did great at, same with piloting skill. The crowd seemed amused. I mean, so I set a Sectors record and was the reason for a new rule, no big deal. Clara just got me into it to see how I did, I just happened to walk away with a stack of awards. Max sent me a message after reading about it, said something about talent, skill, etc, wasn't paying attention. I was too busy practicing with the Saix again. I was out there every day now. Now back to the regular chain of events, I don't want to sound like a celebrity. I got my zoid checked out by the old ZBC, they pretty much just took a few pictures. And this thing officially has the name Psycho Saix. Of course people still think it's a prototype. I kept going out and working with the Saix every day. Just a quick eight to ten hours in the desert, next to the bay, maybe in the mountains if I had a lot of time. Let's cut to a particular incident. I was running next to a river, finally getting the seat adjusted. Then an email window, I shrug it off and keep running. A half hour of 'training' later I take a break and read the thing.

"Dear Mr. Brand

I am contacting you not due to financial or social circumstances, but because of your performance at the recent Eastern Sector Games. I myself was present during your Events, and have seen first hand your taste in groundbreaking zoids and pilot techniques. I am of a secure financial state, ten minutes before narrating this I have sold a dying company for seven times its worth. I plan to use this lump sum on a hobby of mine, Zoid Battles."

This guy talked weird. . .

"My initial plot is to finance, support, and maintain three or more zoids in a Team format for non-financial purposes. After observing your skills I have decided to make you an offer. If you are planning to or have already formed a team structure, contact for sponsorship details. Sincerely. . ."

I can't read his first or last name. . . or figure out if he wants me to make a team or if he's coming onto me. A few hours of training later I ask Clara to translate, and find out he wants me to make a Team that he can own and pretty much take care of. Well, actually he wanted three or four zoids to run around while his company's commericals play around the clock. Good marketing strategy. He wanted a cheap team to sue the loophole, of course me being a moron I made a team that would kick more tail than the last six Royal Cups. But do I really want to get involved in that harsh world of zoids and pilots? Why not take up a desk job and wear a suit? Exactly.