Leon sat at the controls of the Gustav belonging to the Flugel team. They were currently on route to the site of their first battle of the season, a match that would see them pitted tomorrow against the Darklords team, a group of newcomers to Class A whose trio of zoids, a Dark Horn, an Iron Kong PK and an Ice Blazer were renowned for their jet black paintwork, their ferocity, and the occasional unique weapons parts fitted to them for combat testing- but at the same time, the pilots were renowned for their massive egos, or rather their massive collective ego as a team.
They had, Leon mused, supposedly been gutter toughs only three years ago, struggling to scrape together enough money for a half-pint in some New Helic City pub every night- let alone anything like occasional changes of clothing, food, or a roof over their heads. Then, thanks to a mystery benefactor, they suddenly get cleaned up, taken in off the streets, fitted out with zoids and registered as a ZBC team, becoming fierce warriors in battle as they brought their street instincts onto the field with them. They were, it seemed to Leon, a classic example for the posters of what a good zoid team should be, having braved the depths of despair and surmounted them, their normal tendency towards ego was channelled, not into themselves, but instead into their team as a whole, and this led to a cohesive unit who had very few internal rivalries to drive them apart- compared with many other zoid battle teams, who quarrelled amongst themselves over the most trivial of things- or so it seemed.
Naomi was perched on one of the trailers behind the Gustav, tools in hand as she crouched over the right foot of her Gunsniper. She had managed to repair the badly damaged zoid from its disastrous encounter with a stormsworder more than six weeks ago. In fact, most of the zoid was in perfect shape, however, she was having a clumsier day than usual today, and had managed to trip her zoid on the trailer of the Gustav whilst loading it for the day's zoid battle. She was almost done checking over the systems, and now needed only to make minor repairs to the footlock of that foot, whose circuitry had worked loose during the Gunsniper's little accident, and now wouldn't operate properly.
Vega gasped as he struggled through the desert. The jeep had run out of fuel six minutes ago, and ground to a halt only seventeen miles from the base, and he had stumbled out oblivious to almost anything apart from his need to continue on, to become the vital last legacy of the Berserk Fuhrer. His vision blurred in and out of focus, fading from nothingness to the sand that surrounded him, and the endless, cloudless blue of the horizon. Already he was swimming- or so it seemed- in his own sweat, and the polished black boots that he wore on his feet reflected the sunlight up into his eyes as he stumbled onwards, barely able under the strain to keep his own feet. He had rummaged through the jeep for any useful supplies to keep him going. He had even filled an empty bottle with water from the jeep's radiator in a hopeless attempt to survive until he reached civilisation. The desert survival pack in the jeep had been as well stocked as the jeep's fuel supplies, providing him with two military ration bars where there should have been ten, an empty bottle where there should have been twenty bottles of water, and half a dozen sticking plasters where there should have been a full first aid kit. But he had taken what was available without complaint, lurching forward towards what he hoped would be civilisation, or at least a road- all the while chewing on his first ration bar- he had missed out on breakfast this morning, and even if he had waited until the last moment before escaping, the Backdraft group never bothered with such niceties as the 'hearty last meal' for a condemned man, instead saving their resources for pilots who weren't about to be killed.
He trudged onwards wearily, wondering whether he stood a chance of making his way back to civilisation, when it happened. His vision faded out, replaced by something more vivid, and far more terrifying than walking through a desert.
He found himself looking once more through the eyes of the Berserk Fuhrer, his mind sensing the arms and legs of the enraged zoid- restrained as best they could be. His mind operated alongside that of the Berserk Fuhrer, desperately trying anything to escape from the inevitable fate of the zoid, trying to break free, to lash out with his tail (also restrained), to break the bonds that held his arms and legs (too tight- it would take at least fifteen minutes), to activate the charged particle cannon that he knew was there (it had been disabled when the zoid had been taken in, the control linkages removed to prevent the zoid damaging itself whilst undergoing repairs). He knew it was futile, but as the equipment needed to dismantle him was brought forward (circular saws, chainsaws, electric screwdrivers, oxy-acetylene cutters, Spinosappers) he kept struggling, unwilling to give in until the last.
Then, suddenly, the work began, cutting away the dangerous extremities of the zoid- Vega's body flinched and twitched, still stumbling forward, as he felt in his mind the amputation of arms, of legs, of the sinuous tail. Involuntarily he screamed, alongside the Fuhrer, sharing in the full measure of the zoid's agony- and yet, at the same time, he truly understood the Berserk Fuhrer, knowing that it did not deliberately share this torment with him, but that it did so purely out of instinct- unable to exert any other form of control now, it fell back upon this, it's last- and greatest- gift.
Vega fell to the ground as the Berserk Fuhrer flailed- or tried to- firing the circuitry that had controlled the movement of its arms and legs randomly, finding no control over any limbs but Vega's. Vega's body spasmed in the sand, contorting itself and randomly shaking limbs about as a minor sandstorm began to whip up about Vega's body. But then, coming to terms with its amputations, the Berserk Fuhrer ceased resisting, merely watching as the delicate equipment was brought forth to extract both the zoid core and the integrated organoid system, without killing the zoid until the process was complete.
This was the first time ever that the Berserk Fuhrer had shown weakness- or at least what it believed to be weakness- but, in that moment, both the Fuhrer and Vega Obscura knew that not even the Berserk Fuhrer could face this alone. Thus, despite the need to be remembered, the Berserk Fuhrer was unable to let go of Vega's consciousness, but instead gripped it tighter- seeking comfort and solace from the one pilot who had come anywhere close to understanding it.
And then it happened, a dozen tiny power-drills piercing into the Ultimate X zoid's integrated organoid system, still more penetrating the core of what had once been hailed as the ultimate zoid. Involuntarily, Vega's body screamed in agony as he felt every sensation alongside his former zoid… Then came a moment of clarity, a moment where Vega knew that he would never pilot the Berserk Fuhrer again and then, just a second too late, his zoid released him, trying to give him his life back. Vega fainted, his body and mind too exhausted by the prolonged mental contact to continue onwards- for now.
Meanwhile, on their chosen battlefield, the Blitz team were struggling against the superior firepower of the Psychotic spoons team. Bit had just reached the modification deck of the hovercargo, and was debating which CAS to replace his Panzer armour with.
He decided upon the Schneider CAS, and with the twist of a wrist, he looked on as the Red-Orange armour was assembled on the skin of his zoid, finding it soon bristling with the many blades of the familiar design. This, he decided, would be an entirely different fight, for the Schneider could achieve many things that the Panzer couldn't, getting in close to the enemy and ripping their zoids to shreds almost before they could react- or so he hoped.
"Doc," he announced, "this is Bit, take me up."
"Will do," Doc Toros replied, pressing the button that would elevate the Liger zero Schneider to the catapult deck of the Hovercargo.
Outside, however, things were looking grim as Brad's Shadowfox and Jamie's Raynos struggled to hold the Gunblaster, Stealth Dragon and Blade Liger AE of their opponents at bay… both pilots finding themselves stretched- by virtue of seemingly ineffectual weapons- to their limits.
"Here comes the cavalry," Jamie remarked to Brad, spotting the zero Schneider as it reached the catapult deck.
"It took its time getting here though," replied Brad, his feelings of bitterness amplified by the struggle he was going through simply to stay alive…
Bit sat tensed, his zoid crouched upon the catapult, boosters on standby, all weapons ready at a moment's notice, waiting for the right moment to strike- the catapult's launching charge building up around the feet of his zoid, ready to throw the zoid forwards with a system more commonly found in a Maglev or Magnetic Levitation railway…
Abruptly, the Stealth Dragon surfaced, trying to throw the Shadow Fox to one side- as Brad darted quickly to one side, trying to keep mobile. This was Bit's moment and, wrenching the controls of his zoid forward, he launched it through the air, Boosters flickering on before he hit the ground, the bright blue blades of the Liger sliding into position at either side of him, not outstretched in an attempt to fly (this had failed quite spectacularly the one time Bit had tried it) but parallel to the main body of the zoid. The five head-mounted blades that made up the Buster Slash swung forward, and then they energised, a corona of energy forming around the bladed Liger as it hit the ground running, its target: The Stealth Dragon.
Algernon, at the controls of the Stealth Dragon, noted everything that Bit Cloud did, the database in his cockpit confirming that this would indeed be the formidable seven-blade attack, as developed only two months before during the Royal Cup. In response, he activated the systems that put the word Stealth in the name of the Stealth Dragon, releasing billowing clouds of steam and moving just slightly beyond the reach of the seven-blade attack, only to be rocked from behind as Brad's Shadowfox rammed into it, the strike laser claws of the fox glowing like white hot irons as they sailed through the billowing steam towards the armoured serpent- and their effect was almost as deadly, cutting into a chink in the Stealth Dragon's armour, where two different plates didn't quite overlap, the energy-laden claws made their way as far as the Stealth Dragon's unique articulation system, critically damaging a key section in the system and immobilising the sinuous zoid from that point downwards…
Suddenly, the howl of a wolf sounded across the battlefield- Bit turned round to look behind him, as did Jamie and Brad, before realising that it wasn't from some wolf zoid that had intruded upon their battlefield, but from the pilot of the downed Salamander…
Suddenly, Jamie was jolted as gunfire from the stricken Stealth Dragon arched up towards his Raynos, aiming not for where the fast zoid was, but for where it was most likely to be- peppering his zoid with heavy machine gun-fire as it activated the jet thrusters mounted just below the neck of the zoid, rising- albeit somewhat unsteadily- into the air.
In that moment, Jamie cut loose, letting the aggression and skill of the wild eagle out of him unchecked, swooping down towards the oncoming dragon with all forward guns blazing, bobbing and weaving back and forth through the sky, avoiding every incoming shell that he could, finally bursting through the thrusters of the Stealth Dragon with his guns as it turned its head, biting down upon the left-hand wing of the Raynos, the serpentine fangs of the zoid sinking deep- tearing chunks of metal loose as Jamie and the Wild Eagle fought in tandem to break free of the serpent's bite, all their efforts- eventually- in vain as the heavy serpent (unsupported by its own thrusters) and the damage to the Raynos bore the two zoids inexorably down, smashing them against the thin layer of snow that covered the field, disabling both zoids…
Algernon- who incidentally hated his given name- suspected that there would be dozens of rookie Stealth Viper pilots trying to copy some of the moves from this battle, either trying to ram quadrupedal zoids such as Ligers, wolves and Tigers from underground, or throwing themselves into the sky, trying to bite into flying zoids and bear them to the ground. Most, he mused, would fail at these manoeuvres, their zoids not possessing the strength, or their pilots the skill and timing required to make these moves at all practical, but some would succeed- showing the world that these moves could be achieved, putting these gambits amongst the many tactics and stratagems that epitomised the elite pilots of zoid history, alongside more common moves, easier moves, such as the High Intensity Blade Attack and the Focussed Megalomax assault.
Bit Cloud continued moving, deactivating his seven-blade attack to save power, but keeping each blade in place until he had something better to do with them. As the energy field that surrounded his zoid dissipated, twin beams slammed into the back of his zoid, emanating from the attack boosters of the opposing blade liger. With a bound, the Liger zero itself sprang away, its body twisting to face this threat as it sailed away from the beams, landing in a crouch- fangs bared, claws sharp and blades positioned, ready to face this challenger. Both Ligers roared, each sensing the other as their greatest challenge for supremacy here. The attack boosters of Myriam's Blade Liger AE swung back at the touch of a button, their pulse beam cannons (which had damaged the Liger Zero Schneider) folding away in their compartments as the mighty blades of the Liger took position, fully outstretched to make it tougher for the Schneider to deliver a slashing attack to the flanks of this Liger successfully… Then, with a mighty roar, each Liger charged, closing on the other zoid with a ferocity not seen since the end of the Royal Cup. The Liger Zero charged in close, almost too close, before breaking off- springing diagonally sideways over the blade of the opposing Blade Liger, using controlled bursts from the boosters of the Schneider to turn sharply in mid-air, then digging its claws in upon landing to cut its backward momentum. The Blade Liger had also used its boosters to facilitate a sharp turn, and with a bound was quickly upon the Liger Zero once more.
Brad, on the other hand, was now stuck trying to defeat the Gunblaster, the other remaining zoid of the group. Ordinarily, this wouldn't be much of a problem, given the sheer speed and manoeuvrability of the fox, but however, the pilot here was maintaining the enhanced omni-directional shields of the zoid as he slowly turned, opening fire at any near alignment with the Light Particle Cannon and 70mm Pulse cannon that were fitted to the Gunblaster as standard. Brad was having to stay alert every second of this, carefully keeping his speed and direction matched to the turning rate of the Gunblaster as it rotated, trying to get an inkling of a targeting lock upon the Shadowfox with its array of fixed-position forward facing gunnery, intermittently changing its direction of rotation in a futile-seeming bid to outwit the pilot of the fox.
Both skirmishes continued unabated, the Ligers managing to land only the barest of hits upon one another whilst dodging each other's furious flurry of attacks, whilst the Fox continued to try and batter down the shields of the Gunblaster, which itself continued to try and get a good lock upon the Shadowfox… Everything said and done, this match was beginning to look like a stalemate, but all eyes were resolutely glued to the Liger Zero Schneider, expecting it at any moment to put experience into practice with some new strategy guaranteed to win the day.
The moment came, and the Liger Zero shifted, the blades of its main body pointed upwards as it tried to slide underneath the opposing Blade Liger as it jumped, only to meet with heavily reinforced belly armour that clanged against the twin blades, blunting them and twisting their shape as they merely knocked the Blade Liger AE aside, despite the energy pulsing through them, unable to achieve the job. In that moment of triumph, the Blade Liger AE activated its attack boosters, using them to control its fall and landed safely, upon all four legs- a booster powered rapid skid-turn bringing the Liger around to face the Schneider's flank. The boosters flipped forward again, the Pulse Beam cannons extended, and the Blade Liger opened fire, the cannons cutting through the blades, boosters and armour of the Schneider alike, cutting across the Liger Zero with studied accuracy, disabling everything they could of the zoid, leaving the seemingly broken Liger to slump in the melting slurry that had been snow only two hours before…
"The Liger Zero is unable to continue," announced the judge, formalising Bit's defeat.
With that said and done, the battle was over already, with Brad's elimination being nothing more than a formality as he tried to use every trick in the book to take out either the Blade Liger or the Gunblaster before being defeated himself- failing in this endeavour ultimately as the Gunblaster jumped into the air, being spun around by a controlled nudge from the Blade Liger AE to face the Shadowfox, battering the vulpine zoid with every gun that could get a clear shot at it.
"The winners of this battle," announced the judge, "are the psychotic spoons team!"
Steve Toros sighed, using the high-resolution scanners fitted to the command centre of the Hovercargo to examine the full extent of the damage his team's zoids had taken. From the look of things, it was bad news. Leena's Gunsniper had taken the least damage of all of the zoids, but had expended virtually every scrap of ammunition it had, whilst the other zoids had taken damage so extensive that they could take weeks to repair unless they paid for professionals to do it. Reluctantly, he walked down to the hangar, clambering into the control room for the heavy crane needed to bring the zoids in…
It was then that a phone-call came in from the opposing team's Whale King.
Reluctantly, Doctor Toros stopped what he was doing to answer the call on the comm-screen in the crane's control room, "So, you're calling to gloat are you," he accused the opposing team's tactical officer, Jacob.
"No, no, no," he replied quickly, not skipping a beat, "that's not it at all. What we wanted to do was to congratulate you on your first battle in Class S. I mean," he continued, "most teams that graduate to class S don't manage to take out more than one opposing zoid in their first battle… We know this from experience. The guys also wanted me to offer you a couple of things, first, that we'll pay for the repairs to your zoids as well as our own this time around, and second that you're invited to an after-match party over in our Whale King this evening…"
At the sound of the two offers made, Doctor Toros was startled, but quickly accepted them, knowing that if he didn't the team could end up on the verge of bankruptcy simply paying for the repair of their own zoids, especially when the money was debited from his account for the fifteen new model zoids he'd spent out on.
Now it was time to get on with the other important post-match task, checking that all of the pilots were all right. Leena, having taken the least damage to her zoid in battle, was fine, although she was furious with Bit for all the damage that had been inflicted upon her Gunsniper by way of the Liger Zero Panzer, and would tell him that personally once she found the right time. Jamie was next, suffering with no more than a mild concussion, which meant that he had gotten off lightly compared with some airborne zoid specialists. Bit was just feeling a little tense, his ego bruised but otherwise fine… His zoid had been taken out, not him. Brad, on the other hand, was a different matter, his zoid having been trashed with heavy artillery- causing cockpit fires, which he had barely scrambled out of with large second-degree burns across his entire body. The ZBC sanctioned camera crews had pitched in here, and were rushing him to the nearest hospital facility on their way back to civilisation.
The Shadow Fox, the Liger Zero and the Raynos were the zoid most badly damaged, meaning that unless things changed drastically, Leena's Gunsniper would feature prominently in their next match (with the Liger Zero being mostly okay for it as long as the Jager or standard Zero armour was used).
However, with the pilots (for the most part) in reasonable shape, and the zoids retrieved for repairs, it was now time to gather the people he had and tell them about this evening's proposed shindig with the opposing team.
"Leena," he began, not liking to do this to his daughter but wanting to head off the trouble now so that they could put in a respectable showing that evening, "I know you want to have a word with Bit, but could you save it for later, this is important. Given as we're new to class S, we made a reasonable impression today- in fact we did better for ourselves than most new Class S teams, though it doesn't feel that way to any of you, I'm sure. Because of this, our opponents today have offered to cover our repair bills for today's match, and have also invited us to join them for an after-battle party aboard their Whale King this evening."
"You see," Leena interjected, staring pointedly at Bit, "some zoid pilots are gentlemen, who will go out of their way to pay for repairs to zoids other than their own. Even repairs to damage caused by idiots who can't keep control of their weapons."
"I can't keep control of my weapons," Bit replied, astounded, "I'm not the pilot who ends up shooting at her own team-mates nine times out of ten if they end up even vaguely downrange!"
Both had forgotten about Jamie's concussion, and things escalated into a full-blown shouting match in moments. Jamie and Doctor Toros, however, went off and left them to it, knowing that trying to stop the pair of them would be utterly futile…
"Whose fault is it that you keep dragging your zoid across the front of my gun sights?" Leena demanded- an echo in the distance as Jamie went to dig out his rarely seen formal wear from beneath his bunk, but even that fading echo was enough to send his head ringing…
Finally, the last straw came, in the form of a demand from Leena, "And who stole my after-battle cookie?"
This was followed by a series of metallic thumping noises and agonised screams from Bit. Jamie winced; tomorrow he was going to have to get up even earlier than usual, just to beat all of the dents out of the frying pan.
Meanwhile, Kit Tsunami sat in a seedy back-alley bar in downtown Dragonhead city, admiring the paintwork- or rather the lack of it- on the walls. She stood about five foot seven tall, and had fire-red hair to shoulder length. Her skin was- to use the worn out cliché- white as lilies, apart from the outbreak of freckles that covered her face- as is so common with redheads. She wore tight fitting blue jeans and a black top, cut in such a way as to preserve her modesty- she was hoping to get a job as a zoid pilot and didn't want to give anybody the wrong impression- and a wristwatch with a leather strap. Her hair was loose, but had been brushed with a central parting to frame her face. Her eyes were a shade that some would call blue and others would consider grey and her ears were small, easily covered by her hair.
A man approached her, she prepared to fend him off if necessary- he looked as if he'd had plenty to drink already, and was still grasping a full glass- but was also ready to hear him out, given as he could be the contact who had asked her to meet him here.
"I hear you're looking for a job," he muttered to her, trying not to attract attention, "a job piloting a zoid no less."
"That's right," she replied, relieved that he was coming over to talk about that and not something else.
"We might," he continued, a crooked smile coming to his thin lips as he said it, "have something for you then. When are you available to start?"
Kit hadn't expected the meeting to go this fast, or for her prospective employer to accept her without references. She glanced at the holdall beneath her bar stool, thinking of the references she had painstakingly forged in an attempt to get this job, tucked carefully amongst her changes of clothing. "Umm… As soon as you've finished that drink," she replied, almost stuttering…
"Great," her new employer replied, gulping his drink, "we have company accommodation which would, of course, be provided as part of your contract with us, and we can offer you piloting duties in whichever zoid you prove most adept with."
"That would be perfect," she replied, for this was more than she had hoped for, the chance to prove herself as a zoid pilot- no questions asked- and freedom from such nuisances as monthly or weekly rent. She had been desperate to get this job, for she had been running late with what rent she already owed. Indeed, her landlady had demanded to see money tonight, otherwise she would have been thrown out upon the streets, forced to fend for herself, to fight for such spaces as a narrow stretch of overhanging roof, just to keep off some of the rain and wind. As it was, her landlady would most likely be advertising her upstairs room to prospective lodgers before the sun set tomorrow, and would be left- once more- trying to decide between prospective tenants.
Leon Toros yawned, trying desperately to keep his eyes open as he piloted the Gustav onwards towards the site- only fifty miles away now- where they would battle with the Darklords team at ten tomorrow morning. It was already half past ten at night now, but he continued on, determined to be on site before he turned in- just so he could spend the morning getting ready for the zoid battle. He glanced down at the speedometer in the cockpit of the Gustav, they were travelling at about sixty miles an hour (or 96 kilometres an hour), just fast enough that it wouldn't take all night getting there, and yet also slow enough that he wouldn't be continually jolting Naomi- who was sleeping on the back seats of the Gustav's cabin- awake. He went back to squinting at the ground in front of him, only to slam the brakes on in a mad panic, barely managing not to run over a human body, lying intact directly in his path, face-down in the sand…
"Wha… What is it," asked Naomi groggily, suddenly jolted awake by the sudden stop, "are we there yet?"
"No, this is perhaps more urgent," Leon replied, almost snapping at Naomi in his anxiety, " I almost ran somebody over, he's out there right now, unconscious."
Grudging every second of lost sleep, Naomi stretched and got out of the Gustav to help Leon carry the unconscious man- though he seemed to be little more than a teenager- inside. She had been sleeping in the clothes she was already wearing, having nowhere other than the cockpit of her Gunsniper for privacy if she wanted to change clothes.
Muttering, she took the helm from Leon as he crouched beside their unconscious guest, trying to bring him around.
Their guest was, unbeknown to them, none other than Vega Obscura, the pilot who had almost single-handedly brought the zoid battle commission to its knees within the space of a single day. However, neither Leon nor Naomi had ever faced him in battle, let alone met him outside of battle- and thus, neither had any idea as to his identity.
Finally, he began to stir, his head swimming as his eyes opened, the bright interior lights of the Gustav's cockpit streaming into his eyes as he tried to sit, eventually slumping back against the seats in sheer exhaustion.
"Who-" he began, confused, "who am I? Where am I?"
Leon offered him a drink of water, silently frustrated that the problems of the young man they had rescued were greater than he had bargained for.
Author's Note: Okay folks, that's that for another chapter… Hope you're enjoying things so far. Please remember to read and review as appropriate, because any feedback is more useful to me than you could imagine, whether positive or negative I'll take it- so long as the negatives are constructive criticism not "this sucks, give up now" to paraphrase one I never wrote.