"…um…Trey…"

"…um…yeah?"

We were all standing side by side, staring in the same direction.

"…catch me."

With that Clara promptly fainted, fell sideways as I caught her without looking. Then Rax fainted and Sue caught him. Why did two girls faint? Well, we were on the roof of the public hanger, looking at our Whale. We wanted to just check out how the cocoon was coming along. Well, the thing must have shed itself early.

…atop the huge drifts of blue powder, the cocoon residue, was a zoid a slight deal larger than our half-size whale king. It looked nothing like our old one. A Whale King is squared, blocky, and had straight lines. This thing was…smooth…like a picture I saw of a real, living whale I saw once. The head was defined now, the first quarter of its length featured a bulky yet dolphin-like head with a mouth full of tiny teeth. Wait, the head was half the size of a King! How did the mouth ramp even fit a zoid?

The formerly non-existent fins now stretched out on each side, pointing back to a realistic tail fin. Then I saw the color. Black, with white sections. This thing could pass as a giant, living killer whale. No bolt lines in it even. I set Clara down next to the others and walked a hundred yards closer. No bolt lines, all perfectly smooth metal. I then noticed the size again. It was bigger than our old one, nearly a full Whale King's length. The head, while perfectly realistic and defined, was large enough to house a hanger entrance.

As I walked toward the head to look for an entrance my team recovered and followed. I reached for my watch, a long while back I'd built the controls for this thing into it. I tapped the button to see if it was sill compatible. We watched the mouth widen as it lowered its jaw, we half expected it to make a whale noise.

…why am I stretching this out so much? Well, his is how it went, an hour of staring at it, twenty minutes to get the guts to finally walk into the thing's mouth. Insert six hours of getting lost, finding our quarters, etc etc yadda etc.

I'll cut to the next morning, save you a whole lot of boring filler. I open my eyes at seven sharp to see the sunrise glaring into my face. I was indoors. One wall of my room was now made of glass, currently looking out at the desert. Half my ceiling was also a skylight, our quarters had shifted to the very top of the transport. Sure, it was beautiful, but I like to sleep in sometimes.

I roll off my futon onto the now carpeted floor, and crawl over to my pile of clothes. I get dressed, walk up to my doorway to watch the single panel slide to the side automatically. This was like living in a cheap space ship. I'm now in a spacious, mansion level room that has a living room set in the corner. Our basic furniture looked out of place in all this modern stuff. The Kitchen had moved to its own room, it had gone from basic and square to round and stocked with appliances. Rax was still asleep, Sue was probably exploring.

This wasn't just the living quarters. The entire ship was high-tech, spacious and comfortable, even the sections we never use. Yesterday we'd seen maybe a quarter of the place, the Hanger and our living quarters. This was obviously a pet project from Zoid Eve, who knows what we'll find in the remaining 90. I walked a few hundred feet to our living room, sat down to take a rest. Geez, we're going to need roller skates eventually. As I remembered we'd lost the remote Sue dragged herself in from a hallway, looking ragged.

"…well, spent an hour walking around. Found some ancient artifacts, some Zoidian Mummies, and we have a pool."

"…how big a pool?"

She rolled her eyes and sat down next to me on he couch.

"Our Sponsor God filled this place with Zoidian decorations and stuff. Her face is plastered everywhere."

Rax appeared out of nowhere, sitting on the floor near us.

"…guys…I can't go to the bathroom…there's a weird face on the wall staring at me whenever I…"

Sue signaled for him to shut up.

"It's just a carving…it's not real. Trey, please get a sledge hammer, it creeps me out, too."

I sighed, getting up and walking toward a double-paneled doorway and entering a small closet. I tapped the wall.

"Hanger."

Ten seconds later the door opened and I was looking out at the mostly unchanged hanger I considered to be my sanctuary. Still steel, concrete, and unforgiving. Twice the size, sadly, but Eve knows to stay out of my life. Our home is now a giant casino inspired by her face, but she knows when to stop.

All the zoids were crouched on the floor, some twitching impatiently, some possibly in sleep mode. I scanned the row until I spotted my mutated Saix. He was on his side like a real cat, batting his paw at a sunshine spot. We had skylights in here now, a lot easier to see without just the fluorescent lights.

"…Chase, me' lad, how's the new place?"

…it was sad hearing my own voice fake an Irish accent.

"…your boss needs some decorating lessons…the outside is amazing, the inside makes us feel like Euro Trash."

He chuckled, then I noticed an odd thing. His mouth was moving. Usually he just said his thing through the speakers, now he was lip-synching. Not perfectly, but still.

"When I first saw this thing I thought it belonged in an aquarium. Now I think it should be in New Vegas."

I walked up to the zoid, tapping the glass cockpit with one hand.

"…open up, let's get out of here before your seat covers are mole-skin."

He rolled carefully onto his sleek stomach, opened his cockpit so I could jump in, snapped the hatch shut after me and hopped to his feet like a mountain lion. I always remember the first time I got in him, it's like the tables got turned. At first I had to jump start him and clean off the rust, now he only needs me so he doesn't get pulled over.

The mouth ramp lowered, we jumped off the hanger into the desert and were soon doing our usual drills. Namely running the long jump. As we were in the air for a few dozen seconds we stared a few short conversations.

"…so when's the next battle?"

I checked my organizer as we landed.

"Four days, give or take."

And take we did. Time flies in an extremely badly decorated mecha-mammal.

Our bar patron just go back from vacation. He thinks his wife's implants re-started their marriage, the shallow little idiot. But currently he's happily sitting on his stool, watching the usual screens before a battle. When the ZBC Network starts the line-up, everyone moves to the larger screen, it's a Reckless battle.

The ZBC does a huge segment on the new Reckless Whale king. Needless to say the bar loved it. They'd love Reckless if they were stuck in C Class, those zoids are half the show. Surprisingly all four zoids drop down. They admire the Command Wolf again as the focus switches to the other A Class Team. Four Blade Ligers, no wonder they're A Class. All painted black, pretty sure they were called the Ebony Blades.

It was a good old fashioned desert battle. Flat, no craters. Until the Judge made one. Then an odd thing, the judge didn't crawl out on its little platform. After a few seconds the camera flew over the pit to see a gigantic black sphere on top of some silver wreckage. The bar went silent. We all knew what this meant. Soon another Judge went down, this one black plated with red highlights. Yes, the battle had just been hijacked by Backdraft.

Instantly the ZBC started announcing action was to be taken, but the cameras kept rolling. Both Teams were stock-still as the Dark Judge announced battle mode 09999. The bar watched in silence as a Black Whale de-cloaked and launched out a small arsenal of zoids towards the eight ZBC pilots. The camera zoomed in, but couldn't get close. One got a close-up shot of one of the Backdraft zoids before it went to static. It was one of those new Ligers, the one Chase Brand made. Painted black and red.

One Day Later

"…and that's when the last one ran off?"

We nodded at the ZBC President. We were all in his office, Team Rckless and the Captain of Ebony Blades. I cleared my throat.

"…once again I'm sorry hey got their hands on my Liger design."

"Trey, this is what happens with any new zoid. Businesses invest, both legally and underground."

…well, we survived. Fifty of my ligers against us. The Slash Liger and Saix needed some blades replaced, but there was a bigger casualty. The wings and a back section of the Geno Reaper had been torn off by a swarm. The Urban Assault, strangely enough was the least touched. It kicked ass out there. I'd go into detail, Clara wants me to judging by her swagger, but back to the President conference.

"Sir, if there was a weakness…"

He quickly leaned up toward us from behind his desk.

"…those ligers don't have a blaring weakness…I designed them to not have any flaws…they don't have any real advantages, except for mass production…"

The President leaned back down, disappointed. I lowered my hat brim, feeling the same way. I'd made a new zoid for the Backdraft, how would you feel? We were telling the president himself this because we were witnesses to a Backdraft assault, and I was one of his go-to guys in weapon design now.

The Ebony Blades team had joined the fray also, half of their zoids were in critical condition now. Of course I repaired them, no upgrades, just enough to save them from dying. The Blades Team could talk to their zoids, I didn't want them to feel even more grief from what my new zoid did. I'm going through a little regret fling right now, don't mind me.

But most importantly, we still have all our zoids. I doubt hey could be, really. I'm not sure if the Reaper and Slash can move on their own, but Psy has confirmed they're somewhat alive. And…eh…how could you steal Psy? Let's say you did shoot me and get in his cockpit. You jerk the controls around, but nothing happens. Then he starts talking. Then a few hours later he drops you off at the insane asylum so you can lie down in your padded suite and mumble to yourself for a few years.

We parted ways with the Pres to head back home. My three co-pilots were watching movies in their pajamas to overcome the post trauma stress. I was stripped down to a pair of cutoffs in my workshop, strapping on blades, bolting joints, stripping dead paint, and every few moments running up to a console to jot down a sudden idea. By the time the zoids were in fighting condition my little idea chart had taken shape into a detailed sketch. Then a computer image. I was working on that little drawing and on our zoids for I'm guessing sixteen hours.

"…wake up, sleepy little psycho…"

I'd fallen asleep in Clara's Molga on a break. She was prodding me awake with her foot.

"…oh…eh…sorry…"

As I went to get up she pointed at the console near the kitchenette I'd been working at.

"…that little sketch you made…"

I stopped dead still.

"…you're one odd little guy…something bad happens, you fight it out, then shrink back to your workshop…"

She was giving me this look…Geez, her eyes were sharp. Hey, I didn't cower at least.

"…then you reveal this breakthrough you had…and redeem the situation…"

…so she liked the sketch…I sat up on her couch, then stood up quickly and walked toward the exit.

"…just a little idea I had…"

I regrouped in my own quarters, ordering up the sacred sketch on my own screen. I watched it load from top to bottom slowly. What was so special? A little primitive drawing of some curved lines connecting a bunch of little circles. I zoomed in to see they were wires, circuitry, general electronic systems. It was a series circuit design. Not following? I had made a concept hat a zoid could sustain heavy damage or even a few limbs, yet still operate in full battle command mode.

I've already sent it to the ZBC. The Backdraft's new Liger army would be met with a wave of zoids that could not be stopped. Hey, if you need to kill a monster, leave it to the idiot who made the damn thing.