The sign read, “The Graveyard” in letters that had long since faded from their original color, replaced by the rusty red of corrosion from the metal around them. It hung from equally rusty chains affixed to a simple arrangement of steel poles forming an ‘H’ that stood twenty meters tall above the arid landscape. The hot breeze drifting in from the rocky desert swung the sign gently to and fro.

Bringing the Gustav to a gentle stop, Aaron peered through the dirty windscreen at the enormous gate and what appeared to be endless kilometers of fencing to the left and right. He looked beyond the entrance and saw what resembled a large hangar. Years of desert dirt and sand had caked itself onto the structure’s exterior, applying a sort of natural camouflage to the building that from a distance made it hard to determine where the hangar began and ended.

“You think anybody’s home?” Lidiya asked over the commlink. She was piloting the Lightning Saix and had come to a stop to the Gustav’s left. Meanwhile to the right, Aaron could see Ronin’s Shadow Fox peering through the fence. As he watched, the Fox rotated its ears, and Aaron presumed the biomech was scanning for life signs.

“Scott,” he asked. “You picking up anything?”

After a long pause, Ronin’s voice floated over the commlink. “A couple of people inside the hangar. A few Zoids in state of hibernation.” He paused again. “I think that building used to be some sort of military warehouse.”

“Backdraft?” Lidiya asked with a hint of contempt.

“Not one that I know of,” Ronin replied, sounding earnest.

Aaron nodded to himself, wondering how the junkyard had come into existence. “Could have been an old base, or storage facility the Europan military abandoned a long time ago. Either way, I think we should go in and have a look. It’s the last stop on the map.”

And a dead-end for us, thought Aaron, unless we get some cheap parts for the Gustav.

Their trusty transport was at death’s door. The drive motor had a few more kilometers left in it, but Aaron couldn’t see it taking them to the next town. After visiting most if not all of the repair shops in Frederickston looking for a good deal on a new engine, Ronin had suggested they try the junkyard early in the morning.

“You said you’d been here before,” Lidiya said to Ronin.

“Been around it,” the Backdraft pilot replied. “Walked the perimeter partway with the Fox. That was a few weeks ago when I was passing through. But I haven’t been inside it yet.”

Aaron put the Gustav in gear and sent the Zoid forward. It trundled through the entrance, passing underneath the enormous ‘H’. Scott followed behind him, trailed by Lidiya’s Lightning Saix. They kept an easy pace with the struggling Gustav as it slowly approached the hangar. Aaron studied the enormous structure, a permacrete and steel slab in the middle of nowhere that looked to be large enough to house a couple of Whale Kings wingtip to wingtip. He wondered how many Zoids would have been stored here during the war. A hundred? A thousand? That would depend on how long the building was…and how old it was.

The three Zoids stopped about a hundred feet in front of a set of open doors. Aaron turned off the engine and let the Gustav settle down slowly. Opening the cockpit, he stepped out onto the footstep, closed the cockpit door, then dropped down to the hard, rocky ground that was nonetheless covered in a thick layer of sand. The building shielded them from a great deal of the desert wind, but enough of it swirled around them to quickly fill an open cockpit with dirt and sand. Lidiya and Scott joined him a few moments later after securing their respective Zoids.

“I guess we come to them,” said Lidiya, peering at a distance into the hangar through a gap between the open doors that was several meters wide.

“Let’s go,” Aaron muttered, loud enough to be heard above the whiff and whoosh of the desert wind.

As a group they walked into the hangar, then came to a stop when they saw the scale of the interior. The area near the doors had been kept clear for about a dozen meters. Beyond that, the hangar floor was loaded with all manner of Zoids and machinery, organized into aisles that seemed to go on for kilometers.

In awe of the vista before him, Aaron struggled to clear his throat, and weakly muttered, “…just how large is this place….”

Ronin whistled softly. “This would make the Backdraft green with envy….”

Lidiya asked, “Do you think they hand out maps?”

Ronin was the first to notice someone headed their way – a large, burly man, well past his middle years, with a face lined with age and years of squinting at the sun. He greeted the trio with a cautious look. He stood easily a foot taller than Aaron, square shouldered with thick arms and large hands that casually wiped dirt and oil from each other on an overused rag. Black eyes peered under bushy brows at the shocked Wildcards. Aaron noticed the big man’s gaze flicker past their shoulders, possibly through the open doorway, possibly at their Zoids parked outside before he resumed scrutinizing the trio. His attention lingered on Scott’s military style, black pilot-suit, before focusing on Aaron for a long moment, then finally come to rest on Lidiya’s lithe form.

Yep, that’s par for the course, Aaron mused inside his head. No matter where she went, Lidiya always drew attention and sometimes it came in handy. Taking a quick, deep breath, Aaron used it to settle his nerves before calling out to the bear of a man who walked up to them.

“Afternoon there,” he said.

“Afternoon,” came back the measured reply, sounding as gruff as the man looked.

“We were hoping you might help us out,” Aaron began. “Looking for a new engine or a decent second-hand drive for our Gustav.”

The man peered through the open doorway at the aforementioned Zoid. “Yours looks to be in better condition than most of what’s in here.”

Aaron grimaced but managed to turn it into a humble smile. “Well, looks can be deceiving.”

“We’re open to trading it in,” Ronin said. “Maybe you got something other than a Gustav.”

The man’s eyes locked onto Ronin, caution and curiosity mixed in his stare. “Might….”

Ronin looked around the man, then tipped his head in the direction of the hangar. “Then might we look around.”

The man considered the teammates for a short while, his hands still unconsciously wiping themselves on the over used rag. Then he stopped cleaning them and turned around, walking back the way he came.

“Come on in,” he called out over a shoulder.

Aaron shared looks with Lidiya and Ronin. Lidiya threw him a worried one in return, but Ronin wore an unreadable expression as he favored Aaron with a casual shrug. Aaron then gestured for Lidiya to lead the way. Perhaps feeling like bait, Lidiya scowled for a heartbeat at her brother before setting off into the depth’s hangar on the trail of the junkyard operator. Aaron quickly followed after his sister, with Ronin bringing up the rear.

Aaron admitted that he hadn’t known what to expect inside the hangar, preferring to keep an open mind when faced with a new situation. But the building’s enormous scale left him speechless. Row upon row of machines, run-down Zoids and assorted hardware. He wasn’t sure but something large in the distance could well have been a Whale King. Aaron figured it would take them hours to walk every aisle inside the massive building.

“Definitely must have been a military warehouse,” Ronin said, clearly impressed with what he saw. “Look at the scale of the overhead crane system. Must run for kilometers.” He chuckled, then lowered his voice. “And here I thought the Backdraft was impressive.”

Aaron threw him a quick look and asked, “Larger than your old base?”

“It could be,” Ronin conceded. “Isolena was built into the mountain and deep underground as well, so it had dozens of hangars and storage bays. But this is way different. It looks like a hangar from the outside but it’s akin to a warehouse on the inside.” A troubled expression crossed his face. “I wonder why this place hasn’t been robbed clean.”

“Maybe there isn’t much worth stealing.”

Ronin glanced at Aaron with a chiding look. “In a place this big? There’s gotta be something of value here.”

“Well, let’s hope so because we need parts for the Gustav or we’re not leaving town anytime soon.”

Lidiya looked behind her over a shoulder. “Hey, we should hurry. Don’t want to keep him waiting.” She then picked up her pace and Aaron spotted the junkyard operator a couple of hundred feet down a long, long aisle. He hurried after her with Ronin at his side. They caught up with the junkyard operator about a half minute later. The much older man was waiting for them in front of a collection of Gustavs.

“These came in a few years back,” the junkyard operator said. “You’re welcome to look them over. Let me know if you find one that strikes your fancy, and we’ll work out a price.”

Lidiya casually stepped forward to the burly man. “I’m Lidiya. I didn’t catch your name.”

Aaron recognized she was using her most disarming charm on the man, hoping the junkyard operator would open up to them a little more. Meanwhile, Aaron kept his attention on the Gustavs, watching his sister out the corner of an eye. However, when he happened to glance at Ronin, he saw the man regarding Lidiya with faint amusement, no doubt understanding what the young woman was up to.

The junkyard operator ran his gaze over Lidiya from head to toes and back again, as though seeing her for the first time. “Drexler,” he said. “Call me Drexler. Owner and operator of The Graveyard.” He offered her his hand, then seemed to reconsider when he noticed its state and gave her an embarrassed smile instead. “Sorry, little lady. Been a busy morning.”

Busy? Aaron wondered what Drexler was on about since the place was deserted. Busy with what?

Lidiya smiled sweetly. “This is quite the collection you have here.”

Drexler took a deep breath, and the gruff, guarded look he’d been wearing since greeting the Wildcards began to slide off his face, revealing a melancholy demeanor beneath it. “It’s been building up for a long, long time. I won’t deny that….” He seemed to catch himself, appearing annoyed for a second before giving Lidiya a curt bow. “Well, little lady if you need anything just holler. I’m bound to hear you from afar.” He then nodded just as curtly to Aaron and Ronin, turned on the thick soles of his work boots and sauntered off like a man with a heavy weight on his shoulders.

What was up with that? Aaron was puzzled as he watched Drexler disappear into an aisle of wrecked Sinker Zoids. He waited a little longer before offering his companions a hasty, optimistic look. “Well, what do you think?”

“Their cores have been removed,” observed Ronin. “See how their shells have started to deform. Drexler was right. They’ve only been here a few years.” The ex-Backdraft pilot then pensively stroked his brow. “All this biomech material could be recycled and used in the production of new Zoids. I just can’t figure out this place.”

“Well leaving that aside, we’re only after a new Gustave engine,” Aaron reminded them. “These Zoids might have one we can use. Besides our core hasn’t been damaged.”

“Guess so….” The former Backdrafter nodded but looked disappointed. After a short while, Ronin wandered off toward another aisle that seemed to have caught his attention.

Since it was just the two of them, Lidiya stepped up to Aaron, a conspiratorial glint in her eye as she leaned in close to say, “You think it’s a good idea to let him wander off on his own?”

Aaron stared at her, annoyed. “If you’re so worried about him, why don’t you go keep an eye on him.”

She ignored the tone in his remark. “Good idea.”

Lidiya set off after Ronin, leaving Aaron by his lonesome, shaking his head in lingering annoyance. She really doesn’t waste any time. Turning back to the Gustavs, Aaron strolled past them, admitting that Ronin was right. The biomechs did look marginally deformed. He walked past dozens of old Zoids, ground vehicles, off-road four-wheelers. There was even an old rail-road engine from decades ago. Time lost its focus on him, his feet carrying him along with a mind of their own. He rounded yet another corner…and stopped sharply.

About fifty feet in front of Aaron sat a transporter that looked incongruous parked amongst a platoon of wrecked Cannon Tortoises. The machine had a sleek rounded appearance and a bulbous bow that flowed back into armored flanks that curved as they reached the roof. It had six rugged looking off-road wheels up front – three to a side, and another six wheels toward the rear. These were much larger, but also arranged three to a side. The transporter was easily twice the length of a Gustav, its gun-metal grey skin reflecting light from the hangar’s ceiling spotlights. To Aaron, it resembled images he’d seen of ancient Earth railroad engines, yet it possessed a stream-lined profile like no Earth vehicle that he was aware of…which wasn’t many to begin with.

It was a while before Aaron recovered his composure, after which he slowly walked up to the massive, metal beast. It felt like he’d been staring at the machine for an eternity when he suddenly became aware of a tall man standing a few feet beside him.

“Impressive, isn’t it,” said the stranger.

Aaron tore his attention away from the transporter to the newcomer. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s military. Or at least it was,” the stranger said. “By the way, my name’s Deacon.”

Aaron shook the man’s offered hand. “Aaron Rylos.”

“It’s been here for years,” Deacon explained. “I fired up the engine a few weeks back to see if it worked and it purrs like a kitten. They sure knew how to make them last. I can’t tell if it’s Helic Republic or Gylos Empire by origin. Not many people wander into this part of the hangar, so almost no one knows its here.” He shrugged. “I’ve tried convincing my uncle to move it up closer to the entrance so that more people will see it”—Deacon half-sighed, half-grunted—“but he just won’t listen.” Deacon then muttered something that sounded like ‘stubborn old fool’.

Aaron studied the big transporter for a short while longer before guardedly asking, “Is it for sale?”

Deacon shrugged again. “I guess so. Never thought how much it would fetch though.” He considered Aaron for a moment, then asked, “Are you looking for one?”

“Our Gustav is close to giving up on us,” Aaron explained. “The team is reforming, and we need something that can take us from tournament to tournament. We came to find a replacement engine for it.” His gaze was drawn back to the transporter. “Was expecting to find something like this here.”

Deacon took this in with a series of short, thoughtful nods, then his face brightened as he asked, “You want to look inside?”

***

As they walked in silence down aisle after aisle of discarded biomechs and non-biomechs alike, Lidiya kept a half-step behind Ronin who seemed lost in thought as he wandered with seemingly no direction in mind. He absently answered Lidiya’s questions, the few that she asked, so she had failed to engage him in any meaningful conversation. After a while, she gave up and kept her thoughts to herself with only the thud-thud of their footsteps for company. But not long afterwards, Ronin suddenly said, “It’s incredible when you realize that each one of these has a story behind them.”

Now he’s talking?

Lidiya mulled his observation for a few seconds. “Seems that the deeper we go, the older they get. The last great war ended well over a century ago. You think this stuff’s been here since then?”

Ronin shook his head. “Might have been deposited here a long time ago. But not all of this is military.” He stopped and looked at her. “It really is a graveyard,” he acknowledged softly, as though suddenly conscious of intruding on hallowed ground.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Lidiya threw him a chiding look and folded her arms across her chest. “You’re being much too superstitious.” She decided to change the subject. “How long were you at Mount Isolena?”

“Four years,” Ronin answered seemingly reflexively, his gaze alternating between her and the silent machines around them.

Lidiya briefly bit her lower lip. “That’s a long time.”

“Maybe it was,” he admitted, his attention settling on her, “but I don’t regret those years.”

She looked down at her feet, noting the trail of footprints that crisscrossed the dusty ground. “If the Backdraft hadn’t become too ambitious, would you still be there?”

Ronin half shrugged. “Probably. I really was happy there.” After a pause, he said, “But I wouldn’t have been really free.”

“To follow your lifelong dream?” she offered.

He half smiled, chuckled softly. “I don’t know. Life’s too short to hold on to just one dream, don’t you think?”

Lidiya’s commlink beeped, surprising her and interrupting the conversation.

Wonderful, she complained, and just as I was getting him to spill some history.

She pulled the small device out of a jacket pocket and answered the call.

“Is Scott with you?” Aaron’s voice came out of the small short-range transmitter.

“Yes, he is. Why?” she questioned. “Did you find something?”

“I need you guys to take a look at this and tell me what you think. Head back to the entrance. Deacon will meet you there.” Despite the transmitter’s little speaker, there was no mistaking the enthusiasm in Aaron’s voice.

Ronin gave her a questioning look and Lidiya asked, “Who’s Deacon?”

“He works here. Tall, wears thin rimmed glasses. Meet him at the entrance. Get moving and I’ll see you guys shortly.”

“Alright, alright,” she replied in a mock, weary tone, and closed the little device shut. Lidiya then looked down at her feet and traced the footsteps with her eyes back the way they’d come. “I guess it should be easy enough,” she mused.

“The entrance faces east,” Ronin told her, showing Lidiya his wristwatch that doubled as a compass, and pointed up a gap between aisles that was as wide as a street. “So that means we got that way.”

It took them almost a quarter hour to return to the warehouse’s entrance where a tall, lanky bespectacled young man with dirty blonde hair was waiting for them, patiently, and he waved for them to follow him. A few minutes later, they found themselves standing before an enormous, gun-metal grey transporter of indetermined origin that bore a remarkable resemblance to a heavy freight train locomotive except that it was outfitted with huge wheels. Aaron emerged from a side hatch with a ladder stretching down to the hangar floor. Lidiya was quick to note that her older brother almost bounced with excitement as he descended the ladder. It was the most lively she’d seen him in weeks and swiftly set her on edge.

Aaron walked the distance to his teammates in brisk strides, arriving in mere moments. “What do you think?” he asked them enthusiastically.

“It’s a military transporter,” Ronin muttered, stating the obvious.

“Yeah, I know,” Aaron said impatiently, “but what-do-you-think?”

“It’s big,” Lidiya added, further restating the obvious.

Aaron threw her an exasperated glance.

“Does it work?” wondered Ronin.

Aaron nodded. “There’s power to the control systems. Interior lighting and climate control. The air filters might need to be replaced so it’s a little stuffy inside, but the engine’s in good running order.” He looked at them expectantly, gauging their reactions for a moment before continuing. “Guess what,” he said, “there’s even a core chamber.”

Lidiya caught sight of Ronin’s concerned frown.

“A core chamber?” the former Backdraft pilot repeated.

“That’s correct,” Deacon cut in. “You could remove your Gustav’s core and slot it into the transporter. I guess the original designers believed they could improve on the machine’s performance by installing a Zoid core into a non-biomechanical device.”

Aaron must have caught the dark expression that crossed Lidiya’s face before she quickly hid it. He fell silent, his enthusiasm visibly dampened.

“Lidiya,” he started to say before she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“I know what you’re going to say,” she said brusquely. “But we came here to fix the Gustav.”

“It wouldn’t be like we were leaving it behind,” he explained. “He’d still be with us.”

Lidiya pursed her lips and felt her jaw tighten of its own volition. “The Gustav belonged to Dad, Aaron. Would you leave the Command Wolf behind if it came to that?” she shot the question at him, daring him to answer.

Aaron held back a moment before simply saying, “You’re not being fair.”

Lidiya shook her head at her brother. “Fine,” she snapped, closing the door on the subject for the time being. She refused to look at any of the men standing around her, fixing her eyes instead on the dark transporter resting behind Aaron.

“Shall we take a look inside,” Ronin suggested, breaking the tense silence.

Deacon led them into the transporter, Lidiya trailing behind the men. She managed to keep her face neutral throughout the tour, her emotions in check as Deacon showed them the crew quarters, its bunk beds stripped bare of mattresses, the small toilets and showers accessible down a short passageway, and the unexpectedly spacious mess hall and kitchen. Ronin mentioned the prospect of renovating the crew area with added creature comforts, and added they could even install a small shower, an obvious invitation for Lidiya to add her thoughts to the discussion, but she disappointed him by choosing to sulk in silence. The group then headed up to the transporter’s bridge located on the vehicle’s dorsal spine. It was bigger than Lidiya had expected, with seating for five, and a curved windscreen that offered the crew a 300-degree view of the area around the machine.

Electing to sit down on an empty bridge seat, Lidiya spun it round so that she could watch the three men discuss the obvious benefits of the transporter. Inwardly, she admitted it certainly offered them a more comfortable ride than their Gustav, but she couldn’t bring herself to agree with them. The Gustav held a special place in her heart, and despite its short comings, she couldn’t bring herself to part with it.

Unbidden, her father’s face crossed her mind’s eye, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

I’m sorry, Dad, she thought. It’s just been really hard without you.

Someone squeezed her shoulder, and she opened her eyes in surprise, blinking back the moisture welling in them. Ronin was speaking to her, but it took her a moment to understand his words.

“What?”

“I said, I was going for a walk outside,” he told her. “Do you want to come along?”

“Outside?” she frowned. “It’s windy.”

“I left something in the Fox,” he said by way of explanation.

She swallowed, winced at the dryness in her throat, and nodded. Ronin followed her out of the transporter’s cockpit, though she soon got lost inside the big machine and Ronin had to guide her out.

Damn it! I should have paid attention to where we were going!

Attempting to hide her irritation behind a stiff expression that Ronin no doubt noticed, Lidiya tried to distract him and herself by making conversation only to realize that nothing came to mind.

What in blazes is wrong with me?

Abruptly, Ronin complained, “It was getting rather stuffy in there.” Arriving at the transporter’s exit, Ronin climbed down a short ladder to the hangar floor. He then turned and offered Lidiya a supportive hand that she accepted after a moment’s hesitation. “It’ll be a while before we can make that transporter road worthy. Starting with the air filters and the bunks. And…and a lot of other things.” Ronin stepped back several feet to give the massive machine another look. “I forgot to ask Deacon if it was armed.”

“You said it was military, so it must be,” Lidiya said, some of her disdain for the transporter slipping out.

“Oh, yeah…I did.” Ronin huffed in amusement.

When they arrived at the hangar’s open doors, Ronin slowed to a stop and looked at her. Lidiya felt his eyes search her face in faint concern. He stopped short of speaking several times before eventually finding his words.

“Do you want to talk about him?” he asked.

Lidiya searched his words, sensing it was genuine concern that drove them, but she couldn’t help pondering his angle for obviously asking about her father. After a moment, she shook her head softly, loose curls of hair brushing against her cheeks.

“I just miss him,” she said, closing her eyes quickly because admission brought with it a pang of longing that made her breathing unsteady and threatened to release tears as well. She tightly folded her arms across her chest, took a few hasty breaths, then opened her eye to see Ronin looking somewhat helpless. He was reaching out to her, seemingly to pat her shoulder, but he dropped his arm quickly and turned away slightly to look out through the hangar doors at the tan desert scenery shimmering in the very late afternoon heat.

Looking out at the desert with him, Lidiya saw what seemed to be a sandstorm blowing hard in the distance.

I’m better than this, she thought, and gradually let herself relax, loosening the tautness in her body. She thought of her father again, wondering what he would say if he saw her now.

I’m sorry, Dad, she thought again, but I really do miss you.

Her gaze ended up on the battered Gustav and she felt her eyes starting to tear up yet again.

Damn it. Damn it all.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she turned around swiftly on her heels and strode out of the hangar, heading toward her Saix, barely hearing Ronin when he called out to her.

***

“The price for that beast is a hundred thousand,” Drexler said, “and it’s non-negotiable.”

Aaron stepped up to him. “And the trade-in on the Gustav?”

The man peered at him as though he were scrutinizing an unpalatable morsel of food.

“Twenty thousand,” he chomped out. “Final offer.”

“It’s worth more than that,” Aaron argued, feeling a slow rage building in the pit of his stomach.

“Not without the Zoid core, and you’re taking that with you,” Drexler retorted.

“Very well,” Ronin said, breaking smoothly into the negotiations from he leaned casually against the door frame leading to Drexler’s untidy office. “You’ll have the money come next week.” He held Drexler’s gaze easily, meeting it with a subdued hostility Aaron had never seen Ronin demonstrate in the short time since meeting the man. Aaron was also distinctly aware of the animosity between the two men. Drexler undoubtedly considered the younger man arrogant, and in definite need of seasoning. Ronin probably saw Drexler as an obstacle that needed to be overcome, a bump on the road that needed flattening by whatever means at his disposal.

Ronin unfolded his arms and pushed away easily from the door frame. “In the meantime,” he said, “we’ll be working on the transporter and prepping it for departure. That means moving it out into the open where it can be worked on. Can you manage that?”

Drexler leaned forward on his desk, the material creaking audibly under the man’s weight, and Aaron started to consider Ronin’s chances if the two men come to blows.

“No one touches that machine until I see the cash,” Drexler drawled out in slow, measured breaths.

“Half the money now,” Ronin replied evenly. “The remainder when it’s ready next week.” He paused for effect, none of which was lost on the large man. “Fair?”

Drexler remained motionless for an infernally, long handful of seconds, before breaking into an evil grin. “Fair,” he agreed.

Aaron glanced between the two men, wondering if Ronin was going to capitulate with his own evil smile. But ex-Backdraft pilot simply gave Drexler a curt nod, threw a look at both Aaron and Deacon, and left the office without so much as a backward glance.

“When the money’s in the bank,” Drexler said, focusing his attention on Aaron not that Ronin was gone, “then you can start working on that antique.”

“Thanks for your time,” Aaron said. He shook hands with Deacon, and left quickly, trying to keep the urgency and desperation out of his step as he followed after his new teammate.

***

Aaron chased down the fast walking Ronin outside the hangar. As the day approached evening, the wind had picked up. It now draughted strongly, blowing into the air sand, dirt, and whatever else was loose on the ground such that Aaron squinted a little to protect his eyes as he chased down the ex-Backdrafter.

“Ronin, wait up.” The pilot did just that, half-turning around to face Aaron who quickly strode up to the man. “You agreed to half the money now.” Aaron shook his head. “We don’t have that kind of cash.”

Ronin looked hesitant, sparing a glance at the Lightning Saix lying on the parched terrain beside the rundown Gustav. “That transporter is a hundred grand. Trade in the Gustav, that knocks off twenty grand. Half of what’s left is forty thousand.”

“I understand that. But it’s forty thousand that we don’t have.”

“Yes, we do,” Ronin replied, adding after a pause, “I have it.”

Aaron leaned back, though in truth he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “No, that’s your money.”

Ronin glanced behind Aaron toward the desert, frowned sharply, but then relaxed his expression when he met Aaron’s eyes again. “I know it looks like I’m buying my way into the team. So be it. You’re just going to have to deal with it.” Ronin again glanced away, frowned for a moment, before abruptly grinning at Aaron. “Think of it as an investment that I’m making in the team.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes, suspicion floating behind them. “Are you asking for a share in owning the team?”

“No.” Ronin shook his head quickly, firmly. “That’s not what I’m after.”

Aaron frowned, further narrowing his eyes. “Ronin, come clean. What are your intentions?”

“To be part of a team with people that I enjoy being around.” The ex-Backdrafter then clapped Aaron on the shoulders. “So relax. I’m not here to steal the Wildcards from you. And I assure you, my intentions toward your sister are entirely honorable.”

Aaron flinched. “What?”

“I’m not looking to date her.”

“That’s what a lot of guys have said,” Aaron blurted out, surprising Ronin.

“Really?” Again, the former test pilot glanced away. “That’s good to know. But trust me when I tell you, I’m not here to take away the team or your sister.” Ronin smiled wistfully. “If you want the truth, I’d like to make it into the Tournament of Heroes one day. And I don’t mind doing it with the Wildcards. In fact, I’m looking forward to that day with all of you.” He clapped Aaron again on the shoulders. “Now, I’m going to get my credit cartridge from the Fox. We’ll pay Drexler the forty-grand we agreed too, and then we’ll find somewhere in town to spend the night.”

However, Ronin then stepped past Aaron with a sudden scowl on his face.

“On the other hand,” he grumbled, “we might have to hunker down here for the night. That storm looks bad.”

Aaron followed the man’s gaze and swiftly saw a massive sandstorm billowing over the ground several kilometers away, and it was headed for the junkyard hangar. He held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sand the gusting wind was throwing into the air. “Well, that’s just great,” he complained loudly, then worriedly asked, “Wait—where’s Lidiya?”

“In her Saix,” Ronin replied while directing his scowl at the hanger. “See if you can convince Drexler to let us stay for the night. I’ll go get the money before that storm hits this place.”

***

For a thousand credits, Drexler allowed the Wildcards to store their Zoids inside the hangar until the storm blew over. Once they’d relocated into the behemoth structure, the gruff junkyard owner pulled the levers that caused the massive, reinforced doors to shut firmly across the entrance.

Once she’d shut down her Lightning Saix, Lidiya exited the Zoid and spotted metal stairs leading up to a mezzanine level about ten meters above the floor. It had windows facing the desert, but when Lidiya climbed onto the mezzanine to look through them, all she could see outside was a dirty brown darkness. The wind roared, yet also whistled through the tiniest of gaps in the window frames, while the windowpanes rattled out a staccato melody as they were battered by the gale driving the sandstorm across the landscape.

Fearing the windows might shatter, Lidiya climbed down the steep metal stairs to the hangar floor, then hurried on over to where her teammates had parked their Zoids. Deacon had joined Ronin and Aaron in conversation, no doubt about the transporter. She’d been stunned to learn that Ronin had forked out forty grand for the machine. Aaron grudgingly called it an investment but struggled to hide his discomfort. On the other hand, Ronin looked remarkably at ease after spending a small fortune on a team that he'd only joined in the morning.

It felt like too much too soon was happening, giving Lidiya a headache that seemed to make the rounds inside her head, revisiting different parts of her brain every few seconds. Telling Aaron that she had a migraine that needed attending to, she retired to the Gustav and its cozy sleeper cabin with two bunkbeds. After downing a couple of painkillers from a bottle in a med-kit that she stored under her bunk, Lidiya crawled into her bunk, throwing an arm over her face after settling her head on a worn pillow.

Forty thousand, she mused behind closed eyes, thinking of what she could have spent that much money on. Feeling herself slipping into slumberland, she rolled over to face the cabin’s back wall. She didn’t remember falling asleep or what she’d been dreaming about when she was woken up by the sounds of someone in the Gustav with her.

“…Aaron…?” she mumbled. “Zat you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Her brother entered the sleeper cab. “How you feeling?”

“Worn out…and I need a shower….”

“Yeah, about that. Deacon said we can use his place in the morning.”

Lidiya sat up a little in her bunk. “His place?”

Aaron sounded excited. “He’s got a mobile home he parks outside the hangar, but he had to bring it in because of the storm. It’s quite nice. It’s got a shower, fully decked out kitchen, water filtration, solar rig, satellite comms—the whole works.”

Seeing her brother’s grin irked her a little. “Well color me impressed,” she quipped without a hint of amusement.

Aaron dropped his grin. After a short, thoughtful moment, he sat on the edge of her bunkbed. “What happened outside?” he asked her.

“Huh?”

“With Ronin,” he explained, appearing a bit anxious. “After you left the transporter with him. What happened?”

She thought back to that moment and wondered why Aaron was bringing it up. “Nothing. We talked.” After hesitating for a couple of seconds, she said, “He asked about dad, but I didn’t tell him much.”

Aaron remained thoughtful, but a tad less anxious. “All right. I’m just glad the two of you have buried the hatchet.”

“What hatchet?” she protested.

Her brother started to reply, then somewhere along the line decided to shrug instead.

Irked again, Lidiya lay back down on her bunkbed. “Dad used to say I was always too quick to judge. I’m willing to keep an open mind and not judge Ronin for now.”

“What do you think of him?”

She shook her head as she closed her eyes. “He’s got secrets…like all of us…but….” She remembered him reaching out to her out of concern. It made her sigh, a little embarrassed. “I don’t think he’s a bad person.”

“You don’t mind his former Backdraft?”

“So long as he doesn’t drag us into trouble with them.” She shook her head again. “No, I don’t mind….”

***

Aaron ruminated his sister’s reply, taking so long that he missed his chance to talk to her some more because Lidiya promptly fell asleep. He quietly retrieved a couple of blankets from his bunkbed and spread them over the slumbering young woman. Then he carefully relocated to the Gustav’s cockpit and the co-driver’s seat, mindful of the creaking it made when he slowly sat down. Peeking back at the sleeper cab, he was relieved to hear Lidiya snoring softly, then turned his attention to the view out the cockpit windscreen.

Drexler had shut down the lighting inside most of the hangar – or warehouse. Only the front of the building where the Wildcard’s Zoids were resting was under illumination. Undeterred, Ronin had acquired a flashlight from somewhere. Aaron’s gaze followed the man as he explored the dark depths of the hangar, walking down an aisle of silent, abandoned biomechs that Aaron didn’t recognize. They looked like Gun Snipers, only smaller, a little deformed, meaning their cores were dead or removed. When Aaron considered all the material stored at the junkyard, he couldn’t help wondering where it had all come from and over how many years or decades. He also puzzled over why it was still here. Surely Drexler could have made a tidy sum of credits by selling the dead Zoids for recycling.

On a different note, Aaron had learnt from Deacon that Drexler was the man’s uncle. Full name, Folton Drexler. The business, the land, and buildings on it had been handed down to Drexler from his father, so the business must have been around for at least a half century.

It's a wonder it hasn’t been robbed.

Aaron turned up the heat a little inside the cockpit, the environmental system drawing power from the batteries rather than the Zoid Core, then made himself comfortable in the co-driver’s seat. His thoughts drifted to the plan he’d discussed with Ronin – a plan he had yet to talk over with Lidiya, though he hoped she wouldn’t disagree with him. Essentially, they would wait until morning, then travel the twenty odd kilometers to Frederickston and register Ronin into the local tournament. Aaron was hoping to leave Lidiya in charge of that aspect of the plan, while he and Deacon set about inspecting the transporter carefully. He also had to trade-in the Gustav, though there was less rush to do so since Ronin had more-or-less paid a deposit on the big ex-military machine. Removing the Gustav’s core and installing it into the transporter would take some effort to accomplish. Deacon had offered to help in between attending to his job at the junkyard.

Aaron knew that Lidiya wasn’t happy with his decision, and she’d sounded troubled to learn about Ronin paying a hefty sum for the transporter on their behalf. Having done so effectively killed her argument that they should have installed their Gustav’s core into one of those Gustav’s that was lacking a core. Why by a transporter when they could have clearly salvaged another Gustav? He agreed that she had a point, but the matter was moot now that Ronin had effectively invested in the team.

Neither could Aaron deny that their future looked brighter. A great deal depended on Ronin winning the tournament and boosting their funds. However, seeing his haggard reflection in the Gustav’s windscreen, Aaron wondered just how far they’d make it on luck and good fortune alone.