Hi everybody. This is my first fic, so please Read and Reveiw and give me feedback. (Even flames accepted!) I will also endeavour to keep typos under control, as this thing has no real spell check engine, but you've been warned. Finally, the disclaimer: I do not own zoids, although I do own almost every character who shows up in this fic, i.e. Garrett, Jenny, and Edgar, as well as a few other unnamed characters. And I call Saber Tigers Zaber Fangs, so sue me. Ready? Good, because here we go.

----------------------------------------------------------

Hey, My name's Garrett Hart. This is my Journal. Now, some people may have just picked this up to hear the story of the explots of one team sandstorm, a egitistical rant on how I knew that fate would throw me a chance at fame and glory (I didin't). Some may be here to see if the tabloid stories are true. (They aren't. I assure you. I am not an alien robot sent to conquer Zi, and me and Jenny never, NEVER did anything like that. Ever.) If you waat the nothing-to-glory story of team sandstorm, the ZBC puts on coverage of our, and other team's histories every couple of months. If you want to listen to what REALLY happened, how we got to where we are today, not some force-fed and scripted talk show host speculating, well, read on, and discover the team from the perspective of this little journal.

-------------------------

I stood over the grassy knoll of the cemetary, looking down at the three graves of my family. Mom was farthest on the left, she had died when I was little. I felt the cool steel of the necklace she always used to wear pressing lightly on my chest. Dad rested next to her, or would have been if they had ever found the body- He was a pilot on the ZBC enforcement company- his whale king had exploded in midair for "Mysterious Reasons", taking out half of the company with it, includin dad and his beautiful Storm Sworder. I shook my head slightly, and looked down at the final grave, that of my Grandpa. When dad had died those long eight years ago, Grandpa had been all that I had left.

Those eight where some of the best of my life, even if I had to move out here to Belaqua Town, a middle of nowhere asemblage of houses with a population just under eight hundred. I never knew why Grandpa had moved out here, we where very well off, he had been a grand champion in the early Zoid Battles, with his origional Blue Saix, "Blue Ligtning." I turned, and breathed in, my tears had long dried. Grandpa had died a few hours earlier, and had left me an evelope- I figured it was about time to go open it.

Now, don't get me wrong. This isn't some sobbing, self-pity, depressed story. Yeah, I've had some sad times, but you'll see- I've been keeping this little journal of mine for a while now.Let's get back to the story, it picks up soon enough.

The walk though town was quiet- You don't get a lot of noise in this kind of community. The sun was setting, and the streetlights winked on as I walked my way to the driveway of "The Mansion" as we always called it. It was hardly a mansion, but in Belaqua, even a large two story looked like a mansion. But what really defined the place was the hangar attached on the property behind it- Where grandpa kept his old zoids. I had actually driven one of the three he had on multiple occasions, an old Helcat that could barely reach 70 mph. Seriously, the thing had been beaten to a battered hull, but it was an incredible feeling being behind the controls of even one of the smallest zoids.

I unlcoked the door, and stepped into the now-quiet house. Into the kitchen... ah, there it was. I had dropped it on the kitchen table. I picked it up again, and felt something slide around on the inside. That's odd, I hadn't noticed that before. I rolled my neck and wen't into teh living room. I had left the TV on too, apparently. The anchor was gesturing immportantly- I guess a sandstorm was rolling in. A big one. We sometimes got thsoe out here...

I turned the TV off, and grabbed a letter opener. A few minutes later, a couple things spilled out of the invelope. A letter, a CD bearing the ZBC logo, a couple hundred credits.. and a zoid remote. I picked it up- it was cool to the touch, all black with the assorted buttons, as well as an insignia in silver- The sword of the old Guygalos Empire! I sat, stunned. Why would Grandpa have the remote for a zoid from the Empire...? Shaking these thoughts, and the thousands of questions that came with them from my mind, I picked up the letter. After a few minutes of deciphering (Grandpa's handwriting was notoriously unreadable, and I had inherited it), I sat back and read the letter aloud.

"Dear Garrett- If you're reading this, than I have passed on before I could fully train you." I Groaned. "Fully Trained" me? I had sat in his old simulator for hours on end, and listened to him twice as long. I knew anything about zoids that he could have taught me. I continued. "Right now I'm sure you're groaning right now about knowing anything about zoids that I could teach you- and that's just it, Garrett. I can't teach you experience. Enclosed is a ZBC registration disc, go to Crane City, and go to the garage there. There is a ZBC registration terminal, show them that CD, answer their questions, and you're in." ZBC? But I don't Have a zoid! "The ZBC recquires, obviously, for all pilots to have a zoid. That leads me to the other objects in this envelope- The Credits and the remote. The Credits should keep you in a small appartment in Carne City untill you get into the ZBC. And then, there's the remote.I'm sure you've looked at it, and yes that is the sword insignia of the Guygalos Empire's Elite Forces. It goes with the zoid in hangar 4- The hangar I always told you was empty. I apologize for lying- but that zoid is... well, it's like a coming of age gift. MY grandfather, Maxamillian Hart, piloted that same zoid against the Helic Republic. It has been passed down through the family, although your father was always a fan of Airborne Zoids and although he DID pilot it for a few years before joining the Enforcement Companies, he instead prepared the zoid for you. It is my only will and testament that you pilot that zoid in the ZBC. Garrett, carry the Hart name with pride. It's always served us well. I know you can be incredible and do incredible things. Heck, I trained you, didn't I? - Your Grandfather, Jacob Hart."

I sat back, the wind sincerely knocked out of me. I was in the ZBC! And, more importantly, I HAD A ZOID! I sat in silence for a minute, until the rising winds reminded me a sandstorm was coming. I stood up, almost tripped over the coffee table, and then was out the door. I was all but running to the hangar doors seconds later in the sunset. I pulled out my cardkey and swiped it in the old and beaten card reader. The system took what felt like minutes, and finally beeped. The heavy and old garage door lifted slowly, and what I beheld as it lifted fully is still set foremost in my mind. As the door reached it's top, the winds around me seemed to... stop. Inside the hangar was a Midnight-Blue chrome tiger type zoid the like of wich I had never seen. At first I thought it was a Zaber Fang (Authors note: As mentioned above, I know Saber Tigers as Zaber Fangs) but the head design shattered this illusion. While the body was similar to a Zaber Fang's, the head was something that would give veterans nightmares. It was vey cat like, save for two fangs stretching at least half teh length of the head- This zoid was a Proto Zaber.

I'll save you several minutes of just staring at this thing, and then my "INCREDIBLE LOOKING ZOID" dance. After several minutes of dancing, and the sun setting, I stood in the lights of the hangar, and pulled out the remote. A press of the button, and the zoid became alive. It's eyes flashed alive, a brilliant green. It shook slightly, and a slight rain of dust came from it. Then it yawned. I presed my remote again,and it kneeled, popping open it's cockpit. I was isnide in seconds, and was stunned at wat an array of features this thing had. I closed the cokpit and sat abck in the command chair. It was hardly perfect, but it had a leather seat taht took away from how ramrod staight the chair actually was. I then turned my attention to the sheer wave of displays around the controls. A 3-D radar blinked to life next to me. The radio was playing static, so I turned it off. The Commn screen was silent, obviously. The warbook and map screens where showing me specs on my Zaber and that I was sitting on the outskirts of Belaqua city, respectively. And then I noticed the messages screen, with it's little flashing red light saying that I had one new message. Curious, I punched "play" and the Commn Screen suddenly was playing the face of my dad. His image smiled and started talking.

"Hey Garrett. If you're playing this, you're in the cockpit of four generations, and as mean a piece of a war machine as I've seen. I'm on call again, but I wanted to leave you a message. I never piloted this baby in the ZBC because I'm PART of the ZBC. I tell you, it was hard trying to decide between keeping that job and driving this baby once again- But I love flying. This is YOUR zoid son. Go, and become great. I know your mother would be proud. Hanging on that dial to the right of your head is the neckalce I wore in the days that I was a pilot in the battles, and the old headband is that red band wrapped o the targeting joystick. I leave those to you, a little momento of when your old man was your age, huh?. Go with pride, son. No matter waht path you take, you will always be my son, and I love you." with that, the screen clicked black. I sat back, and unhooked the necklace. It was a broadsword, it's blade pure blue. I clipped it on with mom's cross. I untied the headband, a brilliant, bright red, and tied it over my forehead. I realized then that I had nothing to tie me down to this town. I crouched the Zaber one more time, hopped out of the cockpit and walked into the house.

Half an hour later, I was watching the dunes fly by. My duffel bag carrying every credit I had, a couple of my extra clothes, and a botle of water sat behind me. The Zaber handled like a dream. It's paws didn't sink in the sand, and it's internal lighting was jsut as good as the sun. I had it on autopilot, and I was flipping through the specs on the in system warbook. While it was old and mostly out of date, it was incredibly detailed on the older systems. I was in the cockpit of a MGX-775 Proto Zaber, a zoid that almost completely ripped the Republic appart. It had the potential for any number of weapons systems, as it was also CAS capable, although no CAS models had been designed for it- The Zaber's mass production had been stopped many years ago due to excessive production prices- so you either had to order one specially, or leave it up t chance that your Zaber Fang would evolve, a one-in-a-thousand chance. My Zaber... Wait, let me savor beeing able to say "MY" zaber... ahem My zaber wa eqquipped with almost no weapons, save for the low-placed 3-barrel chest cannon. Apparently, Most Protos had a back mounted cannon, but my Grandpa removed it when he was a pilot, before he opted for a saix for speed.

I would swear that the Zaber was purring as we charged along the sands, and it made sense why- It had remained upkept but unpiloted for decades. I stroked the dashboard and looked up at the camera feed of the night sky. I relaxeed and reclined the command chair, and turned down the lighting. The stars from Zi are specatcular, especially out in the desert. The rythmic movement of the zoid around me was abbout to put me to sleep, when the radar let out a little "beep!" I looked up, and saw a little red blip on the radar. I sat up and turned the lights back on. It was just a blip, probably jsut another pilot out enjoying the desert night. I ran it through the warbook, and was surprised to read that the old database had something. The screen came alive, and it gave me a readout on a guysack. The scorpion zoid was moving full out, and from the readout... It was coming right at me. I tried opening a comm channel, but whoever it was in the guysack blew me off. Then the radar beeped again. And again. And then it went Flipping crazy, bleeping as more and more red dots appeared, until my radar scope was showing at least 35 dots in all directions, all rushing in towards the center... me. And then they where on top of me. twenty or more dull brown mechanized scorpions, surrounding me and targeting their tail-bound lasers at my beautiful, new Proto Zaber. And I knew i was in deep trouble. I reccognized their movements now, no wonder I wasn't signaled by the other pilot. There was none- these where field zoids.

The one directly in front of me aimed and fired, and all those years in the simulator, all those thousands of hours spent listening to grandpa's stories, they just took over. I doged to the left, and the laser punched deep into the guysack behind me. The zoid writhed as if shot through a vital organ and keeled over. Yup, definately field zoids. As their comrade shut down, the Guysacks stopped, and the air became a mess of laser blasts and their wierd, insectile cries. I just puncehed the acceleator, ignoring the sounds of impact. One tried to gut me with it's claws, I jumped over them and sunk my zoid's fangs deep into it's chest. I jumped again as another tried to spear me with it's tail, I slashed it with the zaber's claws and knocked it away and into two more. And yet they came.

Fifteen minutes later, my damage readout says that I've got 25 damage, mostly to the torso and legs, and the radar tells me that these guys just called their buddies. I looked up from where I was evicerating another guysack to where the next wave was coming. I looked down at my readouts. My Zaber could take a beating, but this endless melee stuff could wear down the Deathsaurer itself. I whipped around as a guysack tried to stand, and blasted it's head with my cannon. The second wave broke over the hill and I turned to face the brown scorpion tide. I opened up with the cannon, clipping a couple legs but missing overall. "Note to self, practice shooting if I live through this." My zoid roared at the oncoming tide. "That's right buddy, We're not going out without a fight." I said more to myself than my zoid. HE was ready... I charged forward, surrounding myself with the viscious insects. My mind became a whirlwind of doging, slashing and biting. Guysacks and their parts flew this way and that, but i knew it was a losing battle. My damage was in the 65 range, and rising. But we fought on, and i could have sworn I heard a voice in the back of my head... You gotta be kidding me. We're not dying out here, not after I just got back out...

I felt a thunk, and my external camera was telling me that I had a guysack on my back. It raised it's tail, and the entire zoid shook unter it's spike gouging a hole in my Zaber's back. My Zoid howled in agony, and warning lights flashed all over my vision. The Guysack prepared it's final blow. And then I heard it. Two short, consise bleeps on my radar. And then, like some sort of chorus, I heard a heavy chaingun blasting. My external camera played the guysack being shot to pieces, and ahead of me Guysacks where turning to face their new attackers. Suddenly, a beaten up old Desert Liger bashed forward, sending Guysack parts flying, and sending as hockwve that slit the massed zoids into confusion. I saw a scout fox strafing the outside of the guysack group, it's chain gun sending hundreds of rounds into the paper-thin armor of the scorpion zoids. My comm screen blinked alive, and I was looking at a man, probably somewhere in his early thirties, with blood red hair and a pair of aviator sunglasses. Heavy metal was pumping through his cockpit, and he threw me a thumbs up as a gitaur riff beagn, jarring my brain over the comm channel.

"You ok in there,pal?" he asked. I checked my display, and my zoid roared and nodded at his, and the battered liger returned the traditional zoid salute. "I'm fine, but let's mop up the bugs before we talk. Nice shooting by the way, we owe you one." He laughed. "Don't thank me, I'm in the liger. Hey sis, this guy owes you one." A second face popped up, a girl, right around my age, with her brother's vibrant hair color, and big green eyes. She winked at me. "You're welcome." I felt my cheeks flush. Her scout fox jumped up over a guysack body and lit into another one with a short range laser. Within minutes, we stood amid what looked like a massacre. Hundreds of guysack parts lay strewn around, at least 60 field zoids had to have been defeated here.

The Liger turned towards me. "Damn... did you cut down those guysacks that where laying there before we showed up?" I actually took stock, and the kill counter that had lit up in the upper corner of my view confirmed that, yes, I had downed at least half of the zoids laying around my zoid's feet. "It... looks like it..." The guy was obviously talking with his sister, although over the heavy metal I couldnt hear what they where saying. After a while she said something, and he nodded. "Hey, pal do have a transport around here somewhere?" I looked up. "Transport?" he looked at me likeI had just asked him for a fresh char-broield lobster. "Yeah, you know...? How did you get out here if you didn't have a transport?" "I walked." His jaw dropped, and his sister laughed. "Dude..." he checked his map. "The nearest town is this little speck of dust called... um... Belaqua or something, and that's hundreds of miles away." HUH? My mind did a little flip. I had left a 7:30, no way I could get over hundreds of miles in a Zaber in just a few hors, right? "Hundreds? Wha? That's where I'm coming form, that was only..." I Checked the clock. 3:30 am. "Oh... Uh... eight hours ago..." The sister lauged again. "Your zoid must be exausted. We have our sledge and Gustav nearby, we can take you with us, if you want..." My eyes where about to drop out of my head from exhaustion, and I didn't want to risk any more field zoids. "If you're sure it's ok..." The liger was already moving ahead. "No sweat. Come on, I want to het back on the road." The sister smiled as she accelertaed her Fox to catch up with her brother. "I'm sorry, we haven't even introduced ourselves. I'm Jenny Rayne." Her brother spoke up. "I'm Edgar Rayne, call me Eddy." I nodded. "Nice to meet you both, I'm Garrett Hart."

---------------------------------

Well, there you go, the first chapter. PLEASE R&R, it is my first fic, please enjoy.