((Okay, so in real life this is after the Gunsniper has begun its evolution, but in the context of the storyline, this is later on the night of the loss to Team Dawnstar. Confusing, no?))

It was late, and Team Vagrant were all in varying stages of drunkeness. They stumbled into their connecting hotel rooms, Blaine and Nat wandering into one while John and Matthew opened the door to their own and collapsed face-first into the thick carpet. They'd probably had a bit more than was sensible to drink, even when drunk.

Blaine glanced around the room, idly scratching certain parts of his body unthinkingly, then shuffled to sit on his bed. He plopped down onto the bed and tossed aside the file he'd been given about the Liger Zero. He spreadeagled himself, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about the days events and how they might have turned the defeat into a victory. Blaine was of the belief that they covered well most aspects of combat, except for one. They had plenty of guns, a fast Zoid, stealth, a sniper... the only thing they lacked was real close-ranged ability.

This thought swirled around in his slightly tipsy mind as he ran through all the Zoids that could give them an edge in melee. Saberlion; too small to be effective in his opinion, Rev Raptors were nice, but were solely melee-capable.... a Hound Soldier would be good, and it would still maintain an excellent speed. Even better, if they could somehow find one, a Blade Liger would be perfect. It was rare, but very powerful. They could swap out the Gunsniper John owned in order to... damn it. They'd traded it for the Liger Zero that evening.

This thought bumped into the one about a nice melee Zoid and they stopped to chat, to catch up on old times. They decided to head to the neo-cortex to get some drinks and maybe head into the red-light section of the brain, see what they couldn't stir up. They went to the cortex, got their drinks, and staggered out completely smashed. As they staggered around the crevices of Blaine's brain, they decided instead to go and meet another old friend, one they hadn't seen in a while.

So they wandered around to a different section of the brain and raucously hammered on a neuron. A thought wandered out of the neuron, looking rather angry. It was the one they called Mister Orange, and looked like a Liger Zero Schneider. He spotted the other two thoughts, grinned and they all hugged. At that moment, Blaine sat bolt upright, an idea finally forming from the murky depths of his thoughts. He stumbled over to the phone and groggily dialled the number for ZBC Enquiries. He heard it ring once, twice, three times and then someone picked up the phone.

"Hello. You've reached ZBC Enquiries, how may I help you?" asked a bright female voice. Blaine paused to regather his thoughts, and in his mind three friends cheered as they wandered into the red-light district. He recalled why he was doing this, and answered promptly.

"Ah, yeah. I purchased a Liger Zero tonight, and bought the Panzer Armour to match it. So I was wondering, the file says something about a Schneider unit. Is it possible for me to get the details of anyone who might own one?" asked Blaine as his mind wandered, for unfathomable reasons, to an image of a small Liger Zero Schneider roughly riding a blonde woman. Was that even possible? Somewhere in his mind, Mister Orange smiled dreamily as he watched the blonde stripper on stage.

"Ah, sir. We seem to have two owners registered to Schneider units. The first is a man by the name of Steven Coomes, of the Republican League. He owns a unit called the Schneider X, which, according to the database is a derivative variant of the original and by most accounts not quite as good. Now, if you want to track down the original armour, which is likely to be much more pricy, you'll need to contact... oh. The Schneider is registered to Jonathan Stryker."

The name penetrated Blaine's foggy mind and he raised his eyebrows. The one who was Kyne's sworn enemy, the man who was wanted as one of the most merciless killers on Zi, wanted by all the police forces in the world, he owned the Liger Zero Schneider? Well, fuck.

"Uh, okay... can I get the contact details for... Coomes, is it? If I could get that information, I'd very much appreciate it. Thank you very much," finished Blaine as the data registered on his personal data assistant. He hung up the phone and looked at the data, thinking about it. The X would be perfect, and by all accounts it was about as good as a Blade liger, who was reputed to be the master of melee anyway... He checked the PDA for a phone number and dialled it. The phone picked up on the first ring.

"Yo, Marcus Delaney here. What's up?" came a casual voice from the other end. Blaine smiled, they knew each other well.

"Yeah man, it's Blaine. Look, got a favour to ask of you..." Blaine explained, thinking about what he was about to say, and how to say it.

"Sure thing man, what is it?"

"I... I need you to help me get back in touch with some of my old military contacts. I'm looking for Jon Stryker."