Counting out the money as quickly and accurately as she could, Lidiya Morena Rylos divided Team Wildcards earnings evenly among its four members. To her left, leaning against the worn armour of the Gustav transporter they owned, she could sense her brother’s gaze on her as he watched her counting in silence. Before her, the two other members of the team anxiously awaited an end to her counting, but before long Lidiya was done and she handed over their equal share, knowing that her brother had been counting the money as well to ensure the bargain was met.
Two pairs of hands reached out for the money, which quickly disappeared into various pockets within the clothing worn by the two men standing in front of Lidiya. Then the team members shared one final look at each other, before the two men turned and walked away. They climbed into their respective Zoids, two Red Horns that had seen better days, and minutes later the massive biomechs set off on a ground shaking walk down the desert road.
With that, Team Wildcards was one step closer to oblivion.
Lidiya fought back the urge to strike out at something – anything – as she stared at impending defeat one more time. The partnership hadn’t been the best one of late, but at least they had been able to match their opponents on a more even footing by having two extra slow, yet quite powerful Zoids in their lineup. Without them, they couldn’t even mount a serious challenge to their next opponents. But the break-up had been less than mutual. Lidiya and her brother, Aaron, had both argued with their teammates to stay. Unfortunately, the two brothers had decided it was time to call it quits, and either search for another team to join or return home. In the end, Aaron had decided to cut his losses, and made certain Lidiya paid the brothers their due share of the earnings.
She didn’t know what hurt the most. Knowing the team was on the verge of collapsing, or her brother’s lack of trust in her as she’d counted the money.
She forced herself not to look his way, instead staring into the distance at a non-descript, slab-sided building that stood a little taller than its neighbours in what was little more than a desert town. Her eyesight was sharp enough for her to see the emblem printed on its darkly, tinted glass doors. It was the entrance to the local office of the Zoid Battle Commission, a place she would have to visit shortly to update the status of their team, registering their new details and the departure of two members. She floated her gaze over her surroundings, away from her brother and their dilapidated Gustav, to the other Zoids, their pilots and mechanics, milling or lazing about on massive rolling transporters belonging to the few teams visiting the town.
Frederickston was as unremarkable a town as any she’d ever passed through.
It was kept alive by virtue of the fact there was little civilization around for dozens of kilometers, thus a choice battleground for the various Zoid teams that entered the region. The open, empty terrain made for perfect combat arenas being devoid of any meaningful life the Battle Commission might consider at risk during a Zoid match. Nonetheless, there were few B-Class teams in the area. Instead, the place was more of a stopping point for C-Class teams like the Wildcards.
The warm desert air ruffled her hair, blowing dust and sand at her face. The ground was rocky and parched, pounded unevenly by the heavy feet of the countless Zoids to have visited the town in the past. The road leading out of town had long descended into a state of veritable disrepair. It stretched away to the east and in the distance, Lidiya noticed a dark Zoid, features obscured, lying on its belly on a transport trailer parked off the side of the road. The surface heat haze made it ripple and shimmer. Yet, there was an oddness to the Zoid that made Lidiya’s stomach clench unpleasantly, and despite the warmth in the air, a slight chill ran up her arms. She folded them under her breasts and for a moment, she realized she was experiencing the sensation of being watched, and not by her brother who was regarding the backs of his hands. It came from elsewhere, and Lidiya turned again to regard the black Zoid on the trailer a few hundred meters away. Eventually, she turned her back to the biomech, facing her brother instead who chose that moment to meet her gaze.
They shared a long moment of heavy silence.
As a child, Lidiya had come to learn that very little escaped her brother’s eyes. Aaron was one of those individuals who were difficult to surprise, as though he possessed a sixth sense, or was simply better attuned to his surroundings than most people. In the battlefield, he’d saved her hide many times. Although he never brought it up, Lidiya knew he was always watching out for his younger sister.
Taking slow measured steps, Lidiya walked up to him and stopped a couple of feet shy of where he casually leant against the Gustav. Aaron was a couple of inches taller than her, broad shouldered and muscular, courtesy of a lifetime working with Zoids. Some women might consider him attractive, maybe even handsome, with large expressive brown eyes, and dirty blonde hair that fell away from his face in two almost even halves. He was dressed in his grey pilot suit, the top unzipped halfway down his chest, the fire-resistant shirt underneath looking as rumpled as he was. She’d lost count of the number of days they’d been on the road. They both knew they were due a rest, along with a decent shower and change of clothes.
Lidiya wet her lips, running her tongue over them, dry as they were in the warm air. She swallowed what moisture she had in her mouth to clear her throat. “I have to update our team’s registration details.”
Aaron sighed, nodded. “And I need to take the Gustav in for repairs.” He paused for a moment, then added, “I don’t think it’ll last us much longer”.
Lidiya let his words slowly sink in.
If the Gustav broke down, they’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere. She doubted they’d be able to trade it in for a reasonable price. Perhaps enough to fix up their two Zoids, a dark gunmetal blue Command Wolf AC that belonged to Aaron, and her worn down Lightning Saix. But they’d have to travel on foot to the next town holding a tournament. She refused to allow the slowly rising despair creep up on her weary body any further. Nodding her understanding, she stepped past Aaron to the Gustav’s cockpit to retrieve the team’s registration data-card – or data cartridge – that was supposedly forge proof.
Aaron touched her arm before she could climb into the cockpit, stopping her in her tracks.
“We’ll work it out,” he said, then dropped his hand from her arm.
Lidiya again nodded, held his gaze for a moment longer, then resumed walking to the cockpit. When she emerged a minute later, she stepped out onto the cockpit’s edge and paused. From her elevated vantage she looked into the distance to where she’d seen the dark Zoid resting on a transport trailer. It was still there, shimmering in the heat. She shrugged inwardly, chiding herself for feeling so unsettled, and stepped down from the cockpit. However, when she glanced at her brother, Lidiya’s heart skipped a beat because Aaron was also looking off into the distance in the direction of the black Zoid.
Get it together, she told herself.
Walking away from the Gustav, Lidiya crossed what served as the town’s main street, each step feeling heavier than the last as she forced herself not to trudge as she made the journey to the local Battle Commission branch office. Arriving at the permaglass doors of the entrance, she noticed the building was in a far better state than the rest of the town’s structures. The thought failed to cheer her up, though she was pleasantly surprised to discover that the office interior was climate controlled and thereby cool. But then she noticed the length of the queue stretching back from the only open counter and realized she was in for a long wait.
Sweeping her long curly hair away from her face, Lidiya held back a groan as she grudgingly took her place at the end of the line.
***
He found her halfway up the long queue. A look of weary boredom seemed to have settled firmly on her face. The only reason he didn’t think she was asleep while standing was because she blinked at regular intervals. His entrance into the cool office premises drew a handful of glances his way. But none from her. He smiled, unsure why, knowing only that he found her somewhat amusing. He forced himself wipe the smile off his face, replacing his mirth with a look of open sincerity that came naturally since it mirrored how he felt.
Walking past the tail end of the queue earned him a few hostile looks from the equally bored and impatient individuals standing in line. He was acutely aware of numerous eyes on him, following his progress as he walked calmly to where she stood. Now, she turned her head toward him and her eyes met his.
She was beautiful, her oval face framed by curly hair that fell past her shoulders. Her eyes were a clear brown, under delicate eyebrows that rose marginally as she watched him approach. Her nose was neatly proportioned, and her lips, dry and a little parched from the heat, were generous though just shy of full. Despite his intentions, he nonetheless found his heart beating a little faster than he would have liked. He stopped before her, keeping a respectful distance that was close enough for him to speak quietly with her, and thus maintain the conversation somewhat private despite its otherwise public circumstances.
She looked him up and down, taking in his appearance, drawing her own conclusions. He knew the suit looked well maintained, that of a Zoid pilot earning a respectable living and lacking in little in the way of necessities. They were of even height, not particularly tall at five foot, eight inches. He watched and waited for the moment when her expression changed as she left it to him to break the silence.
Why am I here, he wondered, realizing he was acting like a nervous teenager about to ask a beautiful girl if she would accompany him to the school dance. Because I’m alone, he answered his question. Free, but alone.
“Hello,” he said, realizing that he’d failed to think of anything better to say, despite all the time he’d had to think over his choice of words.
“Hello back,” she replied in a neutral tone.
“I was hoping for a chance to talk with you,” said Scott. “I think we might be able to help each other out.”
She blinked at him in silence for what seemed an eternity, though the moment could have been measured in heartbeats. When she spoke again, she sounded distinctly wary. “Maybe you’d like to explain that a little better,” she said, “before I misunderstand your intentions.”
It was his turn to blink for a long moment, then it slowly dawned on him.
“I apologise,” he said quickly, “for not explaining.”
He offered her his right hand in greeting. “My name is Scott. Scott Ronin”.
“Lidiya Rylos,” she answered, shaking his hand with a light, easy grip.
He hesitated for a moment before saying, “I understand you might have an opening in your team.”
Her hand stopped shaking his and dropped away suddenly.
“How do you know that?” she whispered hoarsely.
Scott realized his approach was on shaky ground, even at this early stage.
“I spoke to your brother, Aaron,” he explained. “Your Gustav was parked just outside the town. I asked if he needed any help and we spoke for a little while.”
The wariness he’d seen jump into her eyes didn’t go away, but she did appear to believe him. “You spoke to my brother,” she said, seeking confirmation.
Just then the counter freed up and the line moved forward. Lidiya moved automatically a few paces along with the rest of the queue.
Scott followed her, though he did so from the other side of the white rope that guided the queue all the way up to the counter where an overworked official sat. He nodded at Lidiya and said, “That’s right. He told me where to find you and said I’d have to speak with you if I wanted a shot at joining the team.”
“Hardly wise words,” she muttered. “Considering my track record with recruitment I don’t agree with him.” Again, she regarded Ronin from head to booted toes, then eyed him sidelong. “You don’t look to be doing too badly.” She watched him shrug. “You a solo warrior?”
“Have been,” he said, “for about four months.”
“Why the change of heart?” she asked, curiosity at odds with her caution.
Scott thought about it for a moment before finally saying, “I wasn’t cut out for the solo life.”
She mulled over his answer. “You do realize we might not be around much longer. As a team, I mean.”
“I know. Your brother made that abundantly clear.” He shrugged again, then took a deep breath, making his shoulders swell. “I believe I can help you guys out.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The line moved up another place as the Battle Commission clerk finished dealing with another Zoid warrior and sent him on his way. Lidiya shuffled up, another few feet closer to the counter, now with only a handful of people ahead of her.
“What do you pilot?” she asked.
Scott realized what she was doing, coming to a decision on what she would say to the Battle Commission clerk. He was aware she was recording the loss of two teammates, but would she record signing up a new one at the same time.
He hesitated before replying. “A Shadow Fox.”
Lidiya arched a slender eyebrow at him. “A Shadow Fox?” she asked.
He nodded. “You’ve heard of it?” he asked as casually as he could.
“The name’s vaguely familiar.” After a pause, she asked, “Any good?”
Scott grinned weakly. “Are you asking about me or my Zoid?”
“Both.” Lidiya glanced up the queue, then back at Scott. “And you have about five minutes to impress me before it’s my turn at the counter.”
***
Aaron closed the display he’d been reading in the Gustav’s cockpit, a directory listing of the shops and repair houses the town had to offer. There were at least half a dozen Zoid shops he could visit, maybe get a bargain on the Gustav, enough for them to fix their Zoids, and get them to the next town on foot. He didn’t hold much hope though as he watched Lidiya cross the street to where the Gustav was parked. She was alone, but she seemed pleased, walking with a spring to her step that had been absent for many, many days, so he took that for a good sign.
But a sign of what? he wondered as he opened the cockpit and climbed down to the ground to meet his sister. Upon seeing her mischievous smile and the glint in her eye, Aaron chose to be cautious.
Lidiya arched an eyebrow accusingly at him. “You sent him my way, didn’t you. Why?”
Aaron quietly took a deep breath. “He stopped by and asked if we needed help.” After a moment, he added, “He seemed eager to join up.”
Lidiya studied her brother for a moment. “Well, I signed him up,” she said.
Aaron took another quiet, deep breath. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“Are you implying my judgement isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”
He shook his head, chose to shrug his shoulders in a disarming manner. “That’s not what I meant.”
Lidiya grew serious in the blink of an eye. “I told him we were a dead-end team. He said he was willing to tough it out if we gave him a chance.”
That bothered Aaron in a way he couldn’t quite fathom. Ronin had literally walked his Zoid right up to him, jumped down and asked if there was room for another pilot in the team. At first Aaron thought he’d been joking, but Ronin quickly dispelled the notion, so he’d shown the stranger a photo of his sister and told him to find Lidiya Rylos at the Battle Commission office. It was only after watching Ronin hurry on over to the BC building that Aaron started to have serious misgivings over what he’d just done.
Thank the gods nothing bad happened.
Nonetheless, he seriously regretted his reckless decision. Lost in the thought, he failed to catch what Lidiya was saying.
“I’m sorry? What?”
She looked annoyed for a brief moment. “I was saying, he seemed to be doing pretty well on his own.”
“Yeah…yeah, true.”
Lidiya folded her arms under her bosom. “I saw his Zoid, Aaron. He showed it to me on his data-slate. It’s the sleekest beast I’ve ever seen in these parts.” She bit her lower lip for a heartbeat or two. “It looked fast just standing there. It looked like trouble.”
Aaron struggled to restrain a nervous laugh. He knew exactly what his sister was talking about having seen the Zoid up close – a mid-sized biomech with a burnished dark brown and gold body. Not the kind of average Zoid found anywhere in these parts of the Europa. While thinking of the biomech, he started to wonder where its pilot had gone. “By the way, where is he?”
Lidiya shrugged uncertainly. “He said he had some things to take care of but asked us to join him at the local diner, some place called The Hut, for lunch.”
Aaron glanced at his watch. “Well, I need to see if we can get our Gustav fixed.” He glanced at the Zoids resting on their two flatbed trailers. “We need to lighten the load. Make it easier on the engine. Can you get your Saix off?”
Lidiya nodded and handed him the team documentation stored on a data cartridge. “Put that away for me.”
It wasn’t long before they were moving. They spent a couple of hours going between shops and parts dealers. Eventually, Aaron decided to call it quits as the lunch hour drew upon them. The prospect of lunch became all the more promising when Lidiya mentioned Ronin was buying. They drove back along the main street and found a spot to park their battered Zoids between two custom transporters. Aaron and Lidiya traded looks at the sight of the newer machines, the siblings having trouble hiding the envy they felt.
The walk to The Hut was a good ten minutes, and they arrived at a diner with a deceptive, run-down façade that failed to prepare new patrons for the modern and newly refurbished interior. Aaron had half expected the locale to be yet another dingy, cramped establishment like so many the team had visited in the past. They stood at the doorway for long seconds in somewhat awe of the place before being urged in by a young waitress who complained they were letting the cool air out and that climate control didn’t come by cheaply in these parts of the country. Lidiya spoke briefly with the girl, mentioning they were expected, and quickly described Ronin’s appearance. After making an ‘Oh’ expression, the waitress pointed them to a table by a window with a view of the dusty main street bisecting the town. There they found Scott Ronin already seated, casually watching the many patrons eating at their tables, and waiting patiently for the Wildcard team members to arrive.
Ronin stood and greeted them warmly, shaking Aaron’s hand with a suspiciously deceptive lack of strength, bowed to Lidiya, and thanked them for joining him. When they were all seated, he caught the attention of a waitress and ordered a round of refreshments for them all. Then a quiet, palpable silence descended upon the trio as neither party seemed willing to break into the issues that mattered.
Aaron nudged Lidiya under the table, subtle motivation that she should open the discussions. She gave no indication she’d felt his gentle push, instead leaning on the table with her elbows and laced her fingers together as she studied Ronin. If her quiet scrutiny unsettled him, Ronin kept it well hidden. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying being the object of Lidiya pensive gaze, a fact she was undoubtedly aware of. Aaron was starting to feel his stomach trampoline as he watched the two of them study each across the table.
“Do I remind you of someone?” Ronin asked, his question clearly meant for Lidiya.
“Why?” she replied, folding her hands so she could rest her chin upon them. “Do I remind you of anyone?”
Seeing this, Aaron groaned inwardly.
Oh, no. Not again….
Then he noticed a hint of melancholy in Ronin’s eyes.
“You do actually remind me of someone,” Ronin said. “A long time ago.” He glanced down at the table, only to then grinned enigmatically at Lidiya.
Yep…not again….
After another interval of unhelpful silence, during which Aaron realized Lidiya wasn’t making any move to begin negotiations, he decided to get the serious ball rolling. “I guess we’re all wondering why you picked us,” he said to Ronin.
That seemed to perk the man’s attention. “Is that because you’re a lowly ranked team, on the outs, without much a future in the Zoid arena?” queried Ronin. “You think I made a mistake.”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” admitted Aaron.
Ronin inhaled deeply, releasing slowly after holding it in for a short while, seemingly giving himself time to compose his thoughts. From the corner of his eye, Aaron glimpsed Lidiya narrow her eyes ever so slightly.
“I saw you guys fight a couple of days ago,” Ronin began. “I didn’t think much of your teammates – Red Horns are the least glamorous of Zoids – but you guys moved well together.” He sat back. “You’re Zoids weren’t in the best shape, but you pulled through.”
“When you’re desperate,” Lidiya softly said, “sometimes it can bring out the best in you. Though I dare not say it was our finest moment.”
Ronin shook his head. “Well, you guys still looked good out there. And you did win.”
“It was a small tournament,” Lidiya cautioned him, “and flattery won’t get you anywhere since you’ve already signed up.”
“I know,” he said. “Nevertheless, I stand by what I said.”
Aaron felt his stomach churn, realized it was from hunger this time. “Well, since you’re part of the team now, you should know that unless we get our Gustav fixed we’re pretty much stuck in town.” He leaned back into the soft cushioned chair. “Either that or we trade it in and walk out of here.”
Sitting beside him, Aaron sensed Lidiya stiffen sharply.
I should have talked it over with her first.
Across the table, Ronin was pensively staring down at it, so he may not have noticed Lidiya’s reaction. Some seconds later, he said, “There’s a junk dealer on the outskirts. Huge place. Like an enormous hangar. Maybe you can find the parts you need in there. Might get them for a good deal cheaper than any of the garages in town. Would that interest you?”
Aaron realized late that he was already nodding. “Yeah, it does.”
Lidiya sipped water from her glass. “Money’s one thing we’re short on,” she supplied. Then she mused, “You’ve been here before.” She let it fall shy of an outright question.
Ronin smiled easily, “I’ve passed through on a few occasions.” He inclined his head at the diner. “The food here is always good.”
Having first nodded at Ronin’s suggestion, Aaron now dejectedly shook his head. “The Gustav needs a fair bit of work. It’s not just a question of parts. We need help getting it fixed, and that costs money.”
Ronin studied the two siblings while he drank from his glass. “How much do you need?”
Aaron sensed Lidiya tense up, unaccustomed to what Ronin was undoubtedly going to propose, so he cut in before she got a chance to answer. “Most of the dealers around here are asking for ten to fifteen thousand creds.” Aaron shook his head. “We can’t afford that.”
“There’s always the tournament,” Ronin suggested.
Lidiya looked up from her drink. “What tournament?”
Ronin waved his glass around in a slow circle. “The one all the Zoid teams are in town for.”
So that explains why this town is so busy, thought Aaron, and undoubtedly the reason why Lidiya was delayed at the Battle Commission office. He gave her a sidelong look, wondering how come she didn’t know about it after spending time at the BC office.
“The top prize is fifty thousand creds,” Ronin continued, “with lesser prizes for those that only make it so far. I was thinking of joining up. My last solo tournament. But since I’m a Wildcard now, the money would go to the team.”
Lidiya’s eyes were locked on Ronin again. “If you win.”
“I’ll win,” Ronin said, “because I’ve won before.” He set his glass down and regarded them both with a seriousness Aaron hadn’t witnessed before. “I’ve looked the opposition over. I know their Zoids. I’ve even fought some of them before and beaten them. They aren’t a serious challenge…not for the Shadow Fox.”
He is serious, thought Aaron, and for the first time realized they weren’t dealing with a warrior full of false bravado or dreams of glory. It wasn’t a boast; Ronin wasn’t trying to impress them.
The waitress came round and took their order. Lidiya and Aaron both ordered simple salad dishes. Ronin went with the house special. While they waited for their orders to be served, Ronin explained what he’d seen of their opposition, the calibre of the pilots and the different Zoids. Over the next ten to fifteen minutes, he answered their questions and recounted a few of his matches. Then Aaron asked the question that had been nagging at him since he’d first met Ronin in the morning.
“Where did you get the Shadow Fox?” asked Aaron.
Ronin’s gaze darted away before he quietly answered, “From the Backdraft Group.”
A tense silence fell upon them. Aaron was aware that Lidiya had stopped breathing. She was staring at Ronin as though he’d suddenly sprouted horns, a forked tongue and would announce any minute their souls belonged to him. Aaron felt his stomach turn to lead.
“You’re Backdraft,” she whispered.
Ronin took another sip from his glass before he answered. He set it down carefully before looking at her. “I was,” he said. “I left the Backdraft many months ago when it declared war on the Battle Commission.” From his jacket’s inner pocket, he retrieved a data cartridge and laid it on the table between him and the siblings. “I’m legitimate, Miss Rylos, and I plan to keep it that way.”
Lidiya stared long and hard at the warrior’s data cartridge that was more a cartridge in size, but Aaron could sense she had already made up her mind.
“This was a mistake,” she said and started to get up.
At that point the waitress arrived with their plates. Aaron grabbed Lidiya’s arm and pulled her back down as Ronin pushed his warrior data cartridge toward Aaron, who waited until the young waitress had moved on to serve another table before asking, “Would you have told us if we hadn’t asked?”
“Yes.” Ronin glanced pointedly at the thick data cartridge on the table. “You can have it verified at the Battle Commission office.”
Aaron knew that was pointless. Ronin’s credentials as a legitimate warrior had no doubt been verified when Lidiya registered the young man with their team. However, he studied Ronin carefully and saw the serious, determined look in the man’s eyes while sensing that Ronin desperately wanted Aaron to believe him.
“I left them eight months ago,” Ronin began, his voice low and hushed. “I was a test pilot for them, Aaron. Not a warrior. The Backdraft teams would bring in new Zoids. We’d check them out. They also worked on prototypes for new weapons and combat systems. The Shadow Fox was one of those prototypes.” He paused for a moment, still intently watching Aaron’s face. “Not everyone in the Backdraft was a criminal. For a lot of us it was just a job. A chance to work with Zoids while earning a decent living.”
“Decent?” Lidiya asked in an equally low tone. “And how long were you with them?”
“Eight years.”
“That’s a long time,” she remarked.
“It was good work,” Ronin replied, notably defensive. “I got to pilot more Zoids than most pilots do in their entire lives. I don’t regret it.”
“So why’d you leave,” she almost snapped at him.
“They declared war on the Battle Commission, and I didn’t want any part of them after that.”
“But you kept the Fox,” she said.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I wanted that Zoid more than anything else in my life.”
Ronin then studied his plate in silence, lost in thought or memory. Aaron didn’t know nor did he think it mattered. He slid the data cartridge back to Ronin who took it with a whispered thanks before putting the device in a jacket pocket. Ronin then picked up the eating utensils beside his plate yet refrained from cutting into the meal. Instead, he looked at both Lidiya and Aaron with a sincere and earnest look.
“I’m willing to give this team a chance,” he said. “I’m willing to stick it out through thick and thin. All I ask in return is that you do the same for me. And give me a chance to earn your trust.” He watched them in silence, seemingly half expecting them to just get up and leave. And hoping that they wouldn’t.
Lidiya exhaled slowly and reached for her glass, staring at the clear contents. Aaron watched her anxiously, realizing their future as a team now rested with his sister. Could they afford to pass this up? Was Ronin the answer to their prayers or the final nail in their coffin? Privately he realized they needed Ronin; needed someone willing to hang in there with the team. A pilot with the skills and means to use them. And he accepted that Ronin was on the level with them. The man really did want an opportunity with the team.
Take a chance, Lidiya, he silently urged her.
Fixing Ronin with a cool stare, Aaron’s sister raised the glass before her and held it in a toast.
“To the Wildcards,” she said and waited for the two remaining members of the team to tap their glasses with hers.
“To the Wildcards,” Aaron and Scott answered in unison.