Disclaimer:See previous

Notes: Guys, sorry for the delay, and the length of this chapter. Eh...it's Spring Break. The next chapter will be 14 pages flat, and tomorrow I'll update my other unread fanfic for the heck of it.

"Now, watch what the little guy does here."

Vega stared attentively at the screen above the bar at the two boxers. The smaller one in the blue trunks, who was being pummeled against a corner stake, ducked down into his attacker's stomach and started pounding ribs. This caused the red-trunked tank to back up, and go for one more swipe. He missed, and left his fist hanging. The little guy swing around into his temple and ended the match via knockout. The referee held up the victor's glove as Vega shook his head in awe.

"Trey, you gotta teach me how to do that."

I smirked into my drink as I slid the pretzel bowl over to him on the aluminum bar-top.

"Vegas, stick to zoid fighting. It's safer. Your mom wouldn't let me teach you to box even if I tried."

He groaned, still talking to me while staring at the start of the next fight.

"But I'm tired of being the best at everything."

I blinked and tilted my eyes over at my nephew.

"What was that?"

He was digging into the pretzel bowl, his new haircut suited him. And he fact he ditched the life preserver vest helped him a lot.

"All people say is how good a pilot I am. It gets boring."

He tilted his head at me, probably confused by the way I was staring at him.

"Kid, you just said the secret phrase"

Right as he was about to ask what I meant a voice cut in, from the direction of the door to the sports bar we'd taken shade in.

"Chase! You teachin' my grandson to swear?"

I spun on my stool to see my teacher and mentor walking toward us with his arm around Sarah. Wow, they made up fast. I pulled my hat off and dropped it on the bar as Vega and I turned to acknowledge them. Sarah broke off from her father and sat down next to Vega, rustling his hair fondly before locking her pale eyes on me.

"…what were you two talking about?"

Max took a seat on my other side, chuckling at his daughter like they'd rigged up a comedy act after being reunited after a dozen years.

"Trey, you better not give the kid any of that language you picked up out here."

Speaking of picking up things, Max's voice had changed tone. When I was growing up he always showed proper English, as did I before I discovered city life. Now he had a bit of a Southern drawl. He was down there a long time, he may have gotten a taste for 'taters and grits.

"Vegas wanted to learn how to box. Think he's in withdrawal about the Fury?"

Sarah nodded seriously at my rather non-serious joke. The Berserk Fury was in a private Hanger where he ZBC did research, several miles away from where their new identities lived. Once a week the kid biked over so he could talk to it. Yeah, he talks to it. I've never heard it talk back, I'm guessing he's the only one who an hear it. Psy must be a genius considering he speaks English. And some form of Spanish. Max draped an arm around me as Sarah quizzed Vega on how well I took care of him.

"Thanks for telling me about these two. I always wanted to be a grandfather, you just saved yourself a whole lot of work."

I raised an eyebrow, both of us were watching the boxing channel like moths to a flame while conversing. Eye contact is for pansies.

"So, how's it feel to be related to the King?"

I heard him shrug, his jacket made a folding noise that gave it away.

"Not much different than being related to you."

I brushed off his compliment and watched two cruiserweights square off. Our little family spent a few hours right along that bar, getting familiar with each other. Max and I talked about our zoids and piloting. Sarah and Max talked about what they'd been doing. Vega and I talked boxing glove color. Sarah and I discussed ZBC business. Max and Vega discussed which zoid attack makes the coolest noise. Oh, like your family is so functional.

At the end of the evening we all ended up back at the living room of the Killer Whale King. You know, the name was cool at first but now it sounds so forced. Team Reckless actually came out of their rooms and playrooms to sit with us and chat. Rax and Vega swapped Rock Paper Scissors strategies. Sue and Sarah did recipes. Max and Clara did the fangirl-movie star thing. I leaned over the intercom and talked with Psy.

…what the heck am I typing, right? You come here expecting murders, street racing and zoid battles and I'm having dinner parties. Well, this is a slow week. But a few things of interest. The day after all this elbow rubbing Max, Sue and I went to play cards at the Blitz Team Base. Yeah, they have card games.

7:30 PM

I struggled to keep my brow from twitching as I flicked my lowest card across the table to a tan fellow whose neck-length hair was pushed back by a classic green poker visor. Brad Hunter insisted he deal the cards, mercenaries always know the good shuffles. Sue was holding her own, Max was out first hand, and I was clinging to life by the laces of my boots.

I admit the Blitz Base was nice. Tons of old rooms, they must have bought out an old base and refurbished it for cheap. It was big enough to house their zoids and even the Hover Cargo, and even had a spare room that Hunter converted into a rather nice card room. We were having a nice long standstill game when somebody stuck their head through he doorway and yelled over to our host.

"Brad, any idea where Bit ran off to? I wanted to show him my design for the new top-secret Liger armor."

….top-secret…and he announced it in front of a bunch of bums a mercenary invited over for beer and poker. Brad grunted as he shuffled the pile Max had tossed him after losing.

"Check Leena's Lair for any fresh bones."

Apparently the man who I couldn't see from my place at the table was Doc Tauros. Thankfully he didn't recognize any of us. He was probably a great guy and all, but I hate fans who act like we're gods. We're not, we're very high-ranked demigods.

"Dangit. There's this cool-looking whale zoid sitting outside and I wanted to make a Liger armor that looked like it."

Now this made me drop my poker face and, my cards flaking out of my hands onto the green felt table. Hunter smirked at this, unseen to his employer.

"Why don't you walk inside it? I hear they have some nice zoids in there. It belongs to Team Reckless, they won't mind a trespassing copycat."

I wish I could see the Doc's reaction…

"…good idea!"

And the sound of a grown man running down the hallway like a kid off to see a playground fight. I stared at the visor-clad mercenary.

"…relax, Brand. He's harmless. He knows not to touch anything, and those fancy freak-zoids are a bit out of his league."

I stared a bit longer before being assured by his smug expression and going back to playing cards.

"So, why'd you remember us from your black book and invite us over?"

Hunter shrugged, shooting a pillar of cards between his hands.

"The Lightning Team is down East, and I remembered you guys from out in the desert those few times. Figured we could get aqainted."

Sue nodded behind her three cards, she was wearing her sunglasses, but they were sitting on the tip of her nose so instead of shading her eyes they just looked intellectual.

"Sounds good, Brad. But we're not hiring any new members."

Brad's face didn't move.

"…damn."

Max, killing time after his early defeat by twiddling his thumbs, chuckled.

"Well, you run a fine game. And a fine zoid, according to what I've seen."

The stoic Hunter actually blinked. He was being commended by Max Brand, who could keep their face still through that?

"Thank you…Sir!"

Max and I shared a hidden wink at the last-minute Sir. The game went on peacefully, I finally folded and it came down to the two mercenaries. As they split up my cards another head poked its way in, once again out of my vision range.

"Guys, Doc is skipping around that Whale King outside singing. We should get him out of their before the owners get back."

Brad stared. The voice sounded like that Wild Eagle guy. Except less psychotic.

"Jamie, the owners are right here. You remember Sue Ryder and Chase Brand Senior and Junior."

An awkward pause.

"…oh. Uh…hi. Didn't know you guys all knew each other."

I spun in my chair to face the flyboy pilot, whose hair was now spiked instead of flat. I adjusted my hat and smiled.

"Well, funny thing about that. I'm the original Chase Brand's adopted son. His biological daughter just got out of the Backdraft, and his grandson and my nephew is Vega Obscuras."

I watched the little guy's face go blank. He looked between Max and I, then between Sue and I as if he thought she were my second cousin.

"Um…wow."

With that he walked in and took a seat in on the corner of the mini-bar Hunter was building near the poker table he'd inherited from a bar that closed down.

"So, if you guys are in here whose out in that Whale?"

I counted off on my fingers as Sue and Brad went at each other's throats with diamonds and spades.

"Clara, Max's daughter Sarah, Rax, and Vega. They're staying with us for a while, as you know the ZBC has gone to a dead end and we're all bored out of our minds."

The fragile-built pilot nodded at the ZBC comment.

"We haven't had a battle in a while. You'd think they'd end the season early, we already had the Royal Cup mid-season."

Max grunted at our exchange.

"And some battle pilots do the Sectors in the off time, which the ZBC also runs. Why waste time sorting out teams every minute when you could take a break, do the Sectors then come back in six months with a full battle schedule?"

I snorted.

"Max, the ZBC President is some guy you had jello-shots with in college. Why not call him up and say that."

He guffawed, as much as a gentlemen can guffaw, at my sarcasm. While the mercenaries exchanged card shuffles we three pilots discussed current affairs. Then Doc ran through the doorway, holding Vega by the neck.

"GUYS! LOOK WHAT I FOUND! THIS KID LOOKS JUST LIKE VEGA!"

Blanks stares all across the board.

"I CAN SELL THIS ON zBAY!"

With that he dragged the kid out by the arm. Where…do I start…

"…like I said, he's harmless. Just a bit disorientated."

I nodded slowly, staring at the empty doorway.

"'Kay…"

Max and I slowly turned back to the table. Note to self, buy a gun.

The Next Morning

"…you even got into the cockpit?"

I nodded, loading the disc.

"Did it even growl?"

"Nah, I told it who I was and hat it could trust me."

Psy snorted, he was jogging into the sunset, I was relaxing and getting some work done. Now there's an oxymoron. Last night I had snuck away from the poker game and copied the data off the Liger Zero manually. It didn't seem to mind. Then again, zoids these days seem to know more than they let on.

"So how's that cut on your shoulder? The one you got in the shower with…"

See what I mean?