DISCLAIMER: I don't own the copyrighted Zoids franchise. I do own all original chars, all original zoid breeds, and even some of these jokes I wrote myself and use whenever I do comedy clubs.

"…what is it again?"

The delivery guy, examining the clipboard, shrugged.

"The guy at the Saurus said it was a Pierce Sniper…"

I rolled my eyes, looking at the spiky gun sniper they'd delivered to our whale King.

"…why do some people get zoids named after them…"

The guy nodded and walked off with his tip, I closed the mouth ramp after him. Then walked up to my first assigned project. Enhance this spike-covered, bladed Gun Sniper with no guns. I knew the body type from my work with the Snipe Master, so this should be easy. Heck, I gave Psy the day off helping me, this wasn't building the next Mad Thunder.

The first thing I did was research what this thing could do. It popped up back in the big War, an organoid mutation I'm guessing. It looked like a stripped down Gun Sniper, with crude spikes added to every limb. The sniper tail was still functional at least, but still. So a sniper with some close combat skills, not very reliable. I stripped off the armor, spikes included, to get at the frame. Then the fun started.

Somehow, the spinal support system is extremely powerful compared to other raptors. This meant it could handle much more weight before its speed and agility would be affected. So, why pass up a good opportunity? Sue and Rax won't be here till midnight, both have something to do. I'm stuck here all day. In the next thirteen hours, I'm gonna kill, resurrect and rebuild this zoid.

13 Hours, Two Minutes Later.

I heard the main hatch open as I took a thirty second shower. I shook off most of the oil and grease, pulled on a fresh set of clothes and walked out to see Sue and Rax walking in carrying shopping bags. Sue noticed the fact I was hunched over like a worker bee without a union.

"…you tried to do the thirteen hour thing again, didn't you?"

…I hate how she does that…

"…I pulled it off…I called the ZBC to pick it up tomorrow."

She dropped her plastic bags on the couch and walked over to the hallway.

"Well, I'll just go take a look then…"

I shrugged, too tired to follow her. Thirty seconds later she ran back, stopped in front of the chair I was lying on, pounced me like a cougar, and got an inch from my face.

"…I want two of those zoids…one Ferrarai red, the other banana yellow…"

I nodded tiredly, not caring that she was pinning me down.

"Sure, sure…"

She hopped off me and went into her room, followed by the sound of her looking through those custom zoid magazines she reads. Great, I just spent half a day making a low-rider zoid for Sue. I later woke up, alone this time, in my room. I must have made it to my own room, wow.

Well, the window currently had a view of, once again, the public Hanger upper deck. We usually floated on the Lake like a houseboat, but we were staying on land temporarily to drop off the ZBC project. I changed my set of clothes and got some breakfast. Right now I pretty much own a few sets of the same outfit. Sue and her friends have been thinking of a way for me to get fashionable, but one breakthrough at a time.

At around ten the ZBC Whale King arrived. I let them into ours and walked them into the Hanger. I flicked on some lights as I joked with the technicians they sent. Then they went silent when they saw the Sniper.

I kept the spikes, at least. But onto the real deals. It was just your basic Gun Sniper, with an attitude. The back now held two impressive, yet medium sized, chain-guns similar to those on the Leena Toros Model. Only the two big guns and a few standards thrown on though, I wanted to keep this thing fast, it was abnormally speedy for its design. The tail had kept its sniper qualities, somehow. It wasn't a Snipe Master, but it could work. And of course, the spikes. I re-designed every spike on the thing. What were formerly little square bumps were now curved, wicked claws. It also had Geno Reaper style claws, but that's not important. The spikes were now on every flat surface. Neck, arms, legs, tail, back, all graced with swept back sword-blades. And the head was a special job. It now had a large, Mohawk-like bladed crest crowning its bird head. The face also had a few spikes protruding from the mouth, nose, and over the eyes in razor-sharp eyebrows. The end result was a raptor head that looked like a biker, rock and roll junkie, whatever. It looked like it had piercings.

"…um…the name?"

I smirked.

"'Pierced Sniper'. My co-pilot, Sue Ryder, kind of loved this design."

One of the newer techs jumped at the name.

"Oh! That chick in the quarters with the eyebrow ring, nose piercing, curves, and a fine…"

He was then elbowed by his supervisor.

"…yep, that's the one…"

They nodded, a bit taken off guard by that story. And by the design of this zoid. It looked like something a street thug would make.

"…how does it perform?"

I shrugged, walking over to the main console.

"Well, probably a bit better than before. Nothing too major. Except for some new features."

I tapped a button on the keyboard, and the Sniper stood up. Then every spike on it, face, armor, everywhere, shot out ten meters into the air, connected to a black cable. The end result was an explosion of hooked cables in every direction. After the cables went limp they retracted back into their place, leaving the spiky zoid just as it was before. The techs clapped a bit.

"…this'll be amazing in close combat! It could capture, if not incapacitate a larger zoid!"

I looked at the guy strangely.

"…actually, it was an enhanced security program for when you leave this in a bad neighborhood…but yeah, that could work."

I tapped a second button and the raptor tucked its head down to its feet, arched its back and formed a perfect spiked wheel, with the two large guns tucked on the sides, inactive but not interfering. I then had it roll around the Hanger like a stray tire before going back into raptor mode.

"…this is very useful in tight situations…but just a warning, the cockpit isn't free-mounted. You could lose your lunch after a few revolutions."

They wrote this down and asked about the color. I had left it a dark silver, unpainted.

"…leave it to the pilot."

Let the pilot choose, whether it be a hardcore punk with money or a mercenary who needs that extra edge. Who doesn't hate how their zoid looks when it comes? Ten minutes later they left and took the complete specs for the Pierced Sniper with them, leaving the prototype in my keeping. Great, another parking space eliminated.

Well, we now have the three main zoids, the old Snipe Master, the Liger prototype. Maybe we'll have to upgrade to a regular Whale King instead of our half-size. Or maybe a Great Whale King. Hell, maybe I'll just make one.

"…Trey…those ZBC guys gone yet?"

Sue had walked into the Hanger, I was screwing something in the Pierced cockpit.

"Yep, they're gone."

She nodded in her unexpressive way and yelled up to the raptor head I was inside.

"You get the tools for my ring yet?"

I'd ordered some special parts to turn her weird diamond ring into a remote for her Geno.

"Nah, the mail sucks these days."

She sighed and left. Then Rax walked in while I was sitting on the tail. Psy was nowhere to bee seen, I dropped him off so he could run a bit on his own. Rax called up to me, even though I was just seven feet off the ground.

"Hey! Chase!"

I called back down, a bit annoyed.

"…my name is Trey…"

He nodded, remembering.

"Hey, is it okay if I use one of the spare rooms?"

"Sure, go ahead."

He whooped in joy and ran off. I sighed, setting down the welding laser. Where, the heck, was I. A year ago I was in a town full of criminals with no hope. Six months ago I was living in the Molga fixing a broken down Saix. Then my zoid was remade, I won the Sectors, made a team, made it through C Class with flying colors, made several to-notch zoids, my zoid TALKs, and on top of it all, I have a place where I can sleep, eat, pretty much do anything and feel like I'm at home. Heck, this is home. A giant metal water-dwelling mammal.

I took a break from welding to hop down and walk back to the living quarters. I walked into my room, locked the door behind me, laid down on my couch and spent ten minutes crying in happiness. I was home. I was finally home, and I hadn't noticed. I'd done more than I'd ever dreamed of doing. I'd gone places I dreamed of going. I could just retire at age eighteen, lay around in this luxury for the rest of my life.

I thought this over suddenly. Why was I piloting zoids? I could retire just off the sales of the Liger, which is coming out tomorrow to the public. Why, was I even bothering doing the whole zoid thing?

"…because you're a freakin' Pscyho…"

I sat up, looked at my awards, my Saix collage, my desk screen filled with zoid concepts, my old, retired duffel bag. And lastly, that little toy liger I'd had since I was a kid. It was always gray, three legged, falling apart. Yet there it stood, on four strong legs. With a forest green coat, proud and stable posture, and a noble expression on its face as it watched a sunset that only I could see. I hadn't really completed my life. I had always imagined life as these trivial things out in the desert. I wasn't finished. I was just getting started.

Author's notes

…bet you thought I was ending this fic…PSYCH! What, did you think I forgot about Trey's past? And like he said, he's just getting started…