The battling scene had been pretty quiet as of late - no real kicker fights to speak of. Team Sirocco's primer-grey Gustav rumbled smoothly along under the cloudless blue sky. Alex drove while Ivy idly flipped channels in the rear cab.

"Man, nothing's going on," she yawned. The sounds of the television changed from game show to used-Zoid commercial.

"Hey, check this out, this guy's got a Deadborder for about seventy grand; you can barely see all the strings attached," came her voice.

Alex smiled. After the real nutball Mariner Royale, it was nice to have a lower-key scrap like this one. Team Sirocco was just getting to the scene a little early to leisurely unpack their machinery and tune things up before the fight.

Alex didn't take his eyes off the road. "Who's showing up? Anyone new?"

Ivy emptied an entire package of bubble gum into her mouth. "Shum bigshott trm crlled Erdulun - v'e got r Grjuluz n' Jeenu Zarrer" - at this Alex heard a swishing sound from the backseat, followed by a small explosion - "agh! Bloody gum bubble..."

His only regret was that he couldn't have seen that firsthand.

The Gustav screeched to a stop outside the lines of the battlefield, halting there for seemingly an eternity.

Finally emerdging from the cockpit was the unknown combatant, or at least not known by many. He was wearing a black vest, over top of a blue short sleeved button up shirt, which had a dark grey long sleeved shirt under it. A black belt was wrapped around his waist, which had a katana fashioned to it. His blue pants hung over his black boots, enough to cover all but the front half of his shoe. Large black fingerless gloves covered from his hand, up to around mid-forearm, and was even on top of his gray shirt. A black bandana was tied around his forehead, which arced his long bangs over, and they naturally parted to each side. His long black hair hung over the rest of the bandana, which left the bandana only viewable on his forehead.

A few more steps out, he bent down to the ground, reaching down and taking some sand into his hand. He held it, then tilted his hand, and let it run out, save for a light tint of red on his glove now. He rubbed his hands together, his eyes motioning to the team that had arrived. Even from the distance, one could tell he had a woman like appearance, though his clothing gave a different opinion.

He started kicking around rocks, crossing his arms and looking around. After a bit, his ear twitched, and he stopped, opening his eyes. He turned to face it, leaning on his right leg, and letting his sheath loose. He crossed his arms, staring blankly at a black Gustav, approaching from the east at high speeds.

Sighing to himself, Hiro turned to walk back inside his transport. "Valen." He shut the door and proceeded in.

"Looks like someone beat us here, Ive."

The old Gustav rolled to a stop a good hundredish meters from the one already there. Ivy's head appeared over Alex's shoulder, looking like she'd got on the wrong side of a bubblegum railgun. The stuff covered every inch of her face from what he could see, except for one baleful right eye glowering at him from the mass of pink.

"Not a word, metalhead."

Alex suppressed a smile as Ivy turned back to the road. "Wonder who she is," she muttered, trying to discern the pilot's identity.

"Or he. It," she pondered. "Personthing? Doesn't look like any pilot I've seen before."

"New arrival," Alex replied, looking up from the softly glowing radar screen.

"Well, yeah, of course Personthing's a new arrival - I don't think I've seen It in any of the televised matches -"

"No, there's another Gustav on the way," he pointed out. "Real fast too."

"Hm." Ivy applied a handy spoon to the bubblegum, which was beginning to set.

"I'm going to get the machines prepped," said Alex, opening the canopy and slowly easing out.

"Roger," Ivy replied, using her cheekbone for leverage. The bubblegum refused to budge.

"Don't forget we're trying the new mods."

"Yup."

"Except the induction generator."

"Got it."

"Pinky."

Alex cracked a smile as a squishy "crack" came from behind him. Despite the complaints from his spinal column, a quick dodge to the left proved worthwhile as a pink face mask whistled past his ear.

The black Gustav rolled to a stop, the dust from behind it continuing in a thick cloud, covering the black Gustav. When the dust settled, a black Iron Kong was sitting in it's wake, Beam Gatling Unit, and Manuever Thruster Pack equipped. It wasn't moving, but it was active.

From Hiro's Gustav, a Sabre Tiger walked out slowly, it's head held low, and a Flight Pack equipped behind it, no other modifications. The Sabre Tiger and Iron Kong turned to each other, and over the radio waves the two talked.

"Valen, I haven't forgiven you."

Valen chuckled, "I didn't exspect you would Hiro."

"Your the same as you've always been Valen, a selfish, arrogant, egomaniac." Hiro sighed afterwards, the disgust heavy in his voice.

"And your still the same fool who won't do everything he can to win a battle. In the end, victory comes down to what you will, and won't do, what you can, and can't do. You, Hiro, need to learn that, otherwise you will never be as good as me." Valen adjusted his collar so it covered a scar on his neck.

"Outside of a Zoid, I would kill you Valen."

"That doesn't give me much of an ensentive to battle outside my Zoid, now does it? Beside, it was just a scratch."

"I'd finish the job anytime."

"You know, your the only pilot who was completely upset when I completely destroyed your Zoid. It's too bad that heap of metal couldn't do anything to protect you." Valen laughed loudly into the communications.

"It's one thing..." Hiro's voice was extremely serene, "...to insult me. But do not insult my Zoid!" Suddenly the Sabre Tiger took off towards the Iron Kong, the Flight Pack went into effect, though the Sabre Tiger didn't leave the ground, using the pack merely as a booster. It closed the distance quickly, and leapt towards the Iron Kong.

"Wrong." Valen said, using the Manuever Thruster Pack to jet to the side, while spinning, sweeping out the Sabre Tiger's legs.

The Sabre Tiger crashed a few meters away, though no real damage done at all.

"Valen!" Hiro screamed into the communications, "I swear someday I will end your life!"

"Hmm...But it is no time soon. Listen kid, if you really want me, keep the other Zoids off my back for this little battle, I don't want to be pestered by these pathetic pilots too much, and you and I will have a duel. What say you?" Valen opened up the visual link, showing him sitting in the cockpit, "Cross my heart." He motioned an X shape over his chest, before shutting the visual link down."

"I...I will. And you'd better live up to your promise." Hiro didn't bother opening his video feed, and just got the Sabre Tiger up off the ground, and started walking back to his Gustav. The Iron Kong remained there, active, and just waiting.

Ivy rubbed her chin as she pontificated the finer points of bubblegum chemistry.

"You know, if I were to get enough of this stuff..." she muttered, bending over to pick up the rock-hard pink cast.

Ivy nearly jumped out of her skin as the unmistakable clatter of huge machinery roared to life not one hundred meters to her right.

"Eve's light!" she cursed, racing for the safety of the Gustav. An unofficial battle was not the smartest place to hang out on foot. Humans were notoriously squishy in that respect.

On the first trailer behind the Gustav, the Malder's cockpit closed and retracted back inside its shell. Good, looks like Alex's got the right idea. Ivy dived into the Gustav's cockpit and closed it behind her. Outside, the Saber Tiger rocketed towards the Kong, only to be wing-clipped by the other pilot. The huge Tiger crashed to the ground.

Just then, everything went quiet. Ivy turned the plaster-like chunk of bubblegum over in her hand, then stowed it away in her junk drawer, reaching over and flipping the comm with her toe.

"You all right back there?"

Alex's voice came back over the radio. "I'm fine - just doing a little control calibration. What's with those two nutballs out there?"

"Dunno," she radioed. "Let's find out."

Ivy switched comm channels to an open frequency and pressed the "talk" button on the old-style radio mic. "Y'know, in most parts it's customary to wait for the big mechanical meteor," she grinned, in a flawless Helic accent. "Little antsy for the scrap to start, huh?"

"Oh, and, nice Kong there, pal. PK edition?"

ANother Gustav pulled up, towing a shield liger and a CWIC, then came to a halt. The shield liger got off and started ot move around while Mark got out of the Gustav and got into his CWIC.

"Looks like the fighting migth have started already Atta."

"Maybe, but I don;t see a judge. Although, are you sure about fighitng? I thought you had some concerns."

"True, but I guess we will just have to see what happens, right Atta?"

Hiro sighed over the intercom to an unknown, most likely the Gustav he'd nodded to that was around a hundred meters away, "Please excuse my attitude, ma'am, but this matter is none of your business. I'd be much oblidged if you'd keep out of it." He switched the communication off as he entered his trailer, to refill his fuel tanks.

Valen shifted his weight, "Ignore him darling. He has a bit of a temper." Valen smirked, "Thank you, my Iron Kong is not a PK edition, sorry to inform you. What might you pilot, if you don't mind me asking?"

He spun around slowly, so she, if she was looking, would get a good look at it, "CP-03, Beam Gatling Unit, and CP-11, Manuever Thruster Pack. I'm yet to use the CP-11 in combat, besides that little disagreement there. What's your name by the way?"

"Newsflash, Alex, it's a boy!"

Alex's chuckle came back over the private channel.

Ivy grinned as she rigged up the wireless headset. So does this other guy really know what a PK Kong is or is he just talking out his arse? Meh - might as well have a little fun with 'em.

"Call me Ivy - I pilot that lovable little lump of Sinker you see on the first trailer there," said Ivy, walking around the Gustav towards said Sinker. A quick glance over her shoulder told her what she needed to know about the Kong and it's pilot. Clearly, this was a man who wanted to cover all his bases, and do so with force. She noted the way he had used the thrusters - not to deftly maneuver, but to add angular momentum to his strikes. He'd be the type to approach things in a straightforward manner.

Which made his pleasantries all the more entertaining to participate in.

She began giving her Sinker the pre-battle checkup, listening on the headset as she worked. The next trailer back, Alex's Malder was testing out its various components. The internal reverse-magnesser drive had its power rating set to the standard checkup sine wave, a gradual hum rising in volume, then dropping off again. As always, it was very low-pitched and nearly inaudible, unlike the harsh whine of her ion jets, which she refrained from activating while he was behind her.

"Hm, that's odd - Captain Effeminate's away message is up," she said to herself, inspecting various hoses and wires in the Sinker's cramped interior.

Alex's voice suddenly came over the open channel. His voice was slightly forced, no doubt in an attempt to be social. "So, er, believe we didn't get your name, friend."

"Thats a lovely little Zoid you pilot. Truely a manacing little beast." He didn't both looking over his own controls, he had them memorized. His Zoid was also in top shape, as well as it can be. He took a moment to memorize her name, and her Zoid.

Valen pressed a button on his controls, opening a laptop computer. He typed in a few commands, then a diagram of a Sinker popped up, revealing it's interior, and exterior, standard weapons, and possible modifications. He went through the list. When he heard another male voice, he cursed silently, "Ohh, my mistake. My names Valen. No last name I'm afraid. And who might you be?" He awaited a response, "I hope you guys ignore what happened earlier, my friend and I often argue, it's how we communicate. He pilots a Sabre Tiger, with a Flight Pack."

Hiro was standing behind his trailer, out of sight. He pulled his sheath back quickly, while pulling the hilt of his sword forward, pulling it out quicker then one usually would, and slashed horizontally in one swift motion, took a step forward, and slammed his untied sheath forward, where it would normally connect with one's chest. He leaned his chest back, and kicked forward, upon making connection with the ground, the sword was sheathed, and at his side again, "Your not getting away this time Valen." He continued training there, unseen by the others.

"What mods might you all be toting, out of curiousity?" Valen quickly typed a few commands in, which flipped the Sinker around on screen. He pressed another button and the screen went blank, but then appeared on the big screen inside his cockpit. He moved it around, so he could see every angle of it, and all of it's weaknesses, mentalling noting them.

"Is he trying...to pry?!" Ivy said, over the private comm.

"Think so," came Alex's voice.

"The same kind of prying that we convinced that Kesshi guy we were trying to do."

"Yeap."

She stepped out from around the Sinker's wing, holding a spanner aloft in a decidedly mad-scientist fashion. Enormous protective goggles and a shower of sparks from an intentionally disconnected wire behind her helped the image.

"The SAME kind that we used to make a FOOL ou -"

"Hurry up and obfuscate already."

The wind thoroughly taken from her sails, Ivy visibly deflated and shot him a glare. The sparks behind her died. "Fine. Ya party pooper."

"I play to my strengths."

Ivy made a show of stomping back around the wing. "Guess that Kong of his doesn't get t3h intranets."

"Is this the second person that doesn't know how to look stuff up online?"

"Yeah. Might as well screw with his head, though," Ivy said, switching to friendly-mode. "Good to meet you, Valen."

"And hey, don't want to spoil the surprise for you, now do we?" she asked cordially, checking the sighting on her dual assault rifles. She had to get the calibration right - the rattle of such big weapons could seriously muck with her flying otherwise.

Alex unwittingly derailed the subject further. "So, er, what was the deal with your teammate there? I notice you're both listed as mercenaries - is it more of a partnership of convenience?"

Buried in the guts of her Sinker, Ivy managed a silent cackle. Bless you, metalhead, you lovable ferrous lump! This was the sort of thing she was hoping to steer Alex's one-track mind around to - all the better to play with this Valen guy.

"Yeah, it's pretty much so. I owe him something that I took from him, he wants it back. All in all, it's nothing major. He just has a bit of an attitude problem. I told him if he helps me, that I'll give him a chance to get it back."

Valen was nonchalant about it, like he never received that scar from Hiro, like he never defeated Hiro, insulted him. Pride was something that never heals. Valen still had his knife in the wound. And if he could keep it his way, it would remain there for an eternity.

Around this time, Hiro opened back up his communications line, and trotted outside of the trailer with his Sabre Tiger, "Sorry folks, I hope you don't mind my anger earlier."

Valen laughed, "I always know how to press your buttons, don't I Hiro?"

Hiro sighed, lowering his head, "Yeah." His voice sounded sad, and desolate, almost like a child who's hopes had been crushed, "You do."

"Ohh, come now Hiro, don't bring our fellow pilots down with a slummy attitude."

"Valen, after this battle, you and I are going to settle the score." Hiro clenched his controls, and turned it towards the Iron Kong, while whispering lightly, "One way or another."

"Hiro, you'll get your chance, just remember what you promised." Valen reared the Iron Kong back, and started beating his chest with his fists, like a realy ape would, coming back down with a hard crash, "I can't wait for this to begin." He said openly, "I'm actually excited. It's rare for me to get this way."

"Here I thought you were emotionless."

Valen tilted his head down in his cockpit, smiling devilishly, while whispering, "Just heartless."

Hiro realized how rude he was being to the other combatants, and hastily replied, "Ohh, I'm so sorry, my names Hiro, Hiro Takasuchi, pilot of this here Sabre-"

"Tiger. Yes, I told them already." Valen interrupted him.

Hiro kept his outburst in, keeping to a peaceful tone "Ahh, so you already know. Well, do you mind if I ask for your names?"

Ooc note: As it's prebattle I didn't think anyone would mind a teamless spectator watching the fun, get him some first hand info on the sort of pilots that enter the tournaments etc. If people do mind however I'll erase my post, or at least the stuff inside the post.


O'Cella hummed loudly inside the cockpit of his Saberlion as it raced along the popularly used paths to and from big attractions, the Peasant Cup, although not very well named in his opinion, had attracted a fair amount of that. Even if it didn't promise the same action as the Royal Cup.

Moving at close to the Zoid's maximum speed of two hundred and fifty five kilometers per hour, the electric blue Saberlion seemed to be bounding effortlessly under the light weight. Although Zoids such as the Shield Liger could reach the same kind of speed, the size of the Saberlion, both in height and length, made its movements appear more graceful than powerful.

The Zoid slowed down as the radar built into its ears registered moving and un-moving Zoids, a quick Zoid charged at another and seemed to of been knocked away. A battle? The tournament doesn't start yet... Does it? Pausing long enough to pull his hair, today dyed crimson, into a ponytail; O'Cella pushed the joystick-like throttles forwards and felt the Zoid leap forwards, heading closer to the battle.

His right hand tapped on controls as he zoomed in to the scene of the antics, first noting the lack of a Judge Capsule then that whatever had been going on was finished. Although a part of him registered the disappointment in the fact that he'd missed the show another felt glad.

"At least there's going to be no need to defend m'self here..."

There was a faint hint of disappointment in his tone of voice as O'Cella finally picked out the unique images of Zoids; an Iron Kong, Saber Tiger, Malder and a Sinker. Based on the fact that the Malder and Sinker were sitting on platforms attached to a Gustav it was fair to assume that they were friends or team mates and that the scuffle had taken place with the other two.

Slowing the Saberlion to a walk a couple of hundred meters away, O'Cella searched for an open radio channel and spoke quickly, making sure that nobody thought he was spying.

"Sorry to interrupt all, just wanted to say hi and ask that you don't turn your guns on the Saberlion that so effortlessly blends in to the background," The last part was obviously a joke, as if the blue Zoid could blend into anything. "Name's O'Cella, here to watch the Peasant Cup." Here was obviously a friendly guy that didn't mind speaking to complete strangers, even ones that seemed a little hostile.

((If they mind they can start working for me under the table. Which is a polite way of saying which organ they can generate a vacuum on with their mouths. Once we get Bree posting in here we're good to go; I don't want this to be a simple match between Alex and Valen.))

Alex spied the Saberlion on his routine sensor calibrations. Sprightly little devil it was, tearing along at the speed of a Shield Liger. He heard it handled a hell of a lot better, too. It made him a little wistful to think he'd never be able to handle the jolting rush of a high-speed Zoid, that he was confined to his safe, cloistered shell. Still, it was the only way he'd be participating in Zoid battles period, and besides, he'd begun to take a slight liking to the steady old Malder.

Patience was one thing the Malder had taught him, that he could learn a lot from patient observation. The Saberlion, for one, was running without a Gustav, meaning the pilot was most likely a free agent. And its vectors were all over the place - it was bounding along with a jovial attitude, without a care in the world. Clearly a new pilot, and exactly the sort his teammate would probably scare off with one of her sidelong anti-Helic tirades.

"Saberlion at your twelve, Ive." he radioed.

Ivy stepped from around the wing, still wearing her enormous black goggles. Her face developed an almost evil grin upon seeing the oncoming Zoid, presumably fabricating something really clever to say.

"...and hold the sermon," he finished. He took his finger off the comm with a bit of a smile. He didn't need to look to see the sort of face Ivy was probably giving him for this one.

He'd been right. Ivy dropped the look and moved her goggles to her forehead, looking at the oncoming plume tearing across the desert. And like hell was Alex going to spoil all her fun.

As O'Cella made his introduction, Ivy quickly linked the Sinker's radome up to the torpedoes' tracking suites and used it to lock them onto the 'Lion's rear quarter. Completely useless, of course, thanks to the torpedoes' lack of avionics and propulsion, but this would probably send up some alarms and missile-lock notifications in the Saberlion's cockpit.

Ivy giggled to herself - she wanted to see his response to her little prank.

O'Cella laughed as the weapons lock warning sounded in his cockpit, making sure to remain on the open channel as he did so. There was no fear or even a hint of wariness, just laughter, pure amusement. He did stop the Zoid however, the front end crouched as if it was about to pounce, and opened the cockpit.

One of the rules of battle, a rule he had learned in his early teens, was to know your enemy. And as he had progressed through battles, O'Cella made sure to learn everything he could about Zoids and their pilots. One such fact being that the Sinker's Homing Torpedo, while deadly under water were nothing more than bombs out of it.

"Unless you plan on flying that thing over me I'd appreciate it if you could remove the lock, all the beeping is making me wish I had music in here."

Placing his hands behind his head, O'Cella leaned backwards in the cockpit and grinned. He was quiet happy to sit there, at least for now, and see how things turned out. What he wasn't was stupid.

"And I didn't quiet catch your names altough I'm guessing you're registered pilots so they shouldn't be too hard to get. Niceties do state though that names are exchange between one another."

Ivy switched off the lock and vaulted onto the Sinker's dorsal surface, whereupon she let loose a gale of laughter.

She switched on the private channel to O'Cella. "Hey, I like your style, mate," she said, in her all-purpose Helic accent. "Not many folks around here appreciate a decent prank. Take those chumps over there in the Kong and Saber Tiger - all 'rawr I wil def33t j00' and 'j00 hav tarnishd my honur!!1!' and all that."

(In case the gentle reader is wondering, yes, she just phonetically pronounced leet.)

Ivy linked up Alex's comm system into the channel she and O'Cella were sharing. Immediately his voice came over.

"What'd you do to the poor guy, Ive?" He thought better of it, then added, "Er, I'm Alex, and this is my teammate Br-"

"ALEX!"

"-my teammate Ivy."

Ivy lowered the rivet gun she was pointing at the Malder, assuming an angelic face. "Moi?! Now, why would I do anything at all to this unassuming gentleman in the Saberlion?" She pronounced 'Saberlion' in a slightly forced manner; Alex wasn't sure if it was intentional or not.

Alex plowed ahead. "But we're Team Sirocco. I assume you're unaffiliated?"

O'Cella grinned as he heard the girl describe the two former combatants, taking note of the Iron Kong's customizations as they were the most easily visible out of the two, and straightened up a little to place his hands on the Saberlion's controls and take it closer to the small group.

"Aww, trust your team mate Alex; why'd you think she'd do anything?"

O'Cella played along with Ivy's obvious denial of doing a thing, bringing his Saberlion to within fifty meters then stopping it once again. After pulling a headset onto his head, positioning the microphone so that it was close to his mouth, he stood up and climbed out of the cockpit and down its leg, dropping the last few meters to the floor.

"Got it in one Team Sirocco, I'm currently just a leaf on the wind as the saying goes; checking out the world a couple of hundred kilometers at a time. Actually here to check out this Peasent Cup, might not be fighting in it but I love to watch battles so... Makes sense."

Atta was looking over the other zoids, when he realized that he knew the people there, specifically, the Sinker which had hurt him. Pain flared up as he remebered the incident, the explosion of hte depth charge removing his back end, and the apin. He very nearly CSFed then and there, but he struggled to remain consincioess, then locked his missiles onto the sinker, wanting some payback, not midning that the battl ehad not started yet.

Mark was a bit worried, and nervous. He was unsure how Atta would react, and was not pleased withthe response of Atta, especially when Atta's missiles pods extended, but did not, but still. Mark sent out a open message to the other zoids, "Attention, my partner has a slight problem. I suggest you be careful."
Opening up a channel to Atta., "Atta, talk ot me. Calm DOWN. The fight has not yet started. Stand down."

The beeping coming from her cockpit caused Ivy to look up from the Safecracker pod she was adjusting. Eve, how she loved those evil explosive lances.

"'Ey, Alex, check your scanners. I think I've got some kind of missile lock on me," she said, still on the channel with Alex and O'Cella. She executed a fairly impressive forward handspring into her cockpit. "Could be the radome acting up again, though."

The traction platform beneath her Sinker vibrated slightly. What the heck? Ivy turned around and saw Alex's Malder backing down the ramp, whereupon it shifted into forwards and advanced on the Shield Liger.

"Mind filling me in?"

Alex replied in his usual flat, emotionless tone. "Signal's coming from the Liger's missile pods."

That Liger? But wasn't that...oh. Ivy smacked her forehead and closed the cockpit. "Xan, that Liger's that crazy little Helic science project. Gawd, try and talk some sense into the stupid thing. I'd like to start this fight without a bunch of missile craters all over me."

"One step ahead of you."

The Malder advanced across the open field at what seemed like a painfully slow pace. It was almost surreal, really, watching the snail advance upon the titanic lion staring it down. They really contrasted each other - the Malder's smooth, unassuming shell and the Liger's savage, battle-ready countenance.

The Malder slid to a halt around a hundredish meters from the Gustav, pointed at the Shield Liger. No weapons were deployed, but its radar signature was larger and fuzzier, appearing as a sort of blob on her radome. She wondered -

Eve's light! He had the induction generator on standby! Ivy smacked her forehead again. Leave it to Alexander Carrigan to take the most bullheaded approach to problem solving.

His voice came over the open channel, backed up by a constant fuzz of radio noise. His voice sounded a bit strained. "Attention, Shield Liger - we're here to have an official battle. Now stand down and deactivate your missiles, and get them off my teammate and transport. Now."

Ivy smiled inside her cockpit. Lordy, metalhead - I'll have to train you in the fine art of 'subtlety.' But thanks, mate.

Meanwhile the Saber Tiger came back out from the trailer after refueling the tanks it had used earlier, and Valen sat back, his own vocal communications off, but listening in, and laughing at the situation, more like a demented chuckle, though he was finding amusement in the whole situation.

He turned them back on, "Gentlemen, gentlemen, please, lets not take our fustration out on each other quite yet. The Iron Kong started moving forward, beginning a lock with one of it's Tactical Missiles on the Shield Liger, while the 4 missiles from the Beam Gatling Unit started a lock on the Malder.

"I think we know who has the biggest gun here gentlemen, please, drop the missile lock pilot of the Shield Liger, and pilot of the Malder, back down." He spoke with athourity, and around this time the Saber Tiger had now stepped gracefully back onto the open field, looking about, then it opened it's communications again.

"What...Is going on?" Hiro said calmly, looking around.

Ivy reclined back in her cockpit. There was really no talking old Alex out of it now - he was something of "the immovable object" when he got this way. And she hadn't yet seen an "unstoppable force" to counter it. Still...

"Y'know, man," she said over the private channel, "the way I see this going, that crazy Liger's not going to shellack me - whaddya say we just go back to the old battle preps, eh?"

"The missiles are still locked."

Ivy pulled a face and crossed her arms. Stupid stubborn male types, always charging ahead and standing up to each other and thumping their chests. This Valen chump was no different. And they were all so bloody serious about everything. Honestly, lighten up, folks.

Alex wasn't worried in the least about Valen's little show; his Malder had held up to quite a bit worse than a piddly foursome of missiles. Besides, he had no intention to fire, considering both of his weapons were sealed inside his shell. (He wondered briefly how he could "stand down" any more than he already was, what with no weapons deployed and all.) What he was concerned about was Ivy in her cockpit.

"I've no intention to fire," he said on the open channel, against the fuzz of radio interference. "So lay off, Freud." His voice, other than being strained-sounding, was still flat and lacking inflection. What nobody other than Ivy knew, however, was that he was ready to crank up the generator's power at the first sign of missile fire. And to hell with whatever it would do to his metal-laced bone structure.

((Sue me. I feel like getting a loss on Stonecutters' record. Lance, if you see this, get in here lickity-split.))

The Stonecutters Gustav pulled up at the same time the Judgeman capsule rocketed down. "Oh, please oh please can we be here on time," Gary crossed his fingers.
Angel glanced over her shoulder at him. "Us? What about your fool brother? The one with the Blade Liger?"
"He's . . . around. Somewhere." Gary shrugged. "Quick, get in our stuff an' stuff. I wanna kill stuff."
"You say stuff a lot, but I don't think you mean much." Angel's attempt at joining the humor was . . . well, it was pathetic. She was too much the 'badass zoid pilot' to actually have fun with anything other than killmaiming enemy zoids.
Well, she had fun digging for fossilized stuff, but that doesn't count.
"Stuff." Gary shrugged again as he turned to power up the zoids.

Judgeman 0042 deployed, raising its paddles. It looked confuddled for a moment before realizing that this wasn't a Team Battle.
There were, after all, four teams here. "All pilots, prepare for the Peasant Cup, ya pissant dogs!"

Up in the Judge Satellite, somebody blew a gasket as they tried to correct the hacker's reprogramming of the Judgeman. It stalled out for several minutes, during which time Gary and Angel hurridly got their stuff set up.
I say stuff a lot . . .

"Whaddya think is wrong with it?" Gary's Guysack pulled up beside Angel's Shield Liger. They were going in with all available mods attached, making the Guysack a funny little gunbunny. People who have battled Rick Xaratan, cue the nightmares.
"I'unno. Maybe they're trying to get it to not call us pissant dogs," Angel replied. "Whaddya think is going on with the Liger an' crew?"
"I'unno." Gary pulled up the comm. channel. "Hey, folks. What seems to be the problem?"

Atta heard the locks, and responded by aiming his heavy beam cannons at the Iron Kong, but not firing yet.
He responded to Mark's question, "The sinker is the one who hurt me. I'll hurt her. Look, she even has those missiles which hurt me. I'll wipe them out."

Mark sighed, this was not good. He should have expected htis, but he hadn't. Atta was alive, sentient, and the pain he took seemed ot be messing him up.
"If she removes the safecrackers, you will drop the lock? How does that sound?"

"Accpectable for now, but I want to fight her one-on-one." Atta then cut the channel.

Mark sighed, then opened private channel to the sinker. "My partner has agreed to drop the lock if you will remove the safecrackers and will fight him one on one in this fight. I think he wants payback."

Opening a general communciation, he replied, "My partner is having some troubles. His last battle resulted in an unfortante accident, and he is having somne trouble coping. Hopefully this can be resolved."

"Then get the Hell off the field and into a therapist's," Angel snapped. "You know the rules: No crazies in the sport. We don't need a trigger-happy maniac running about."
Gary read the situation a lot clearer than she did. "I think we've already got the trigger-happy maniac happenin', Ang." He switched over to private channels, muting the general frequency while retaining visual. "When the Judgeman gives the go, I want you to take him out. It's looking like he wants payback for something, and I'm thinking it'll make him a soft squishy spot in their defense."
"We hardly have to worry about the Silverhammers," Angel replied. "I'm more concerned with that Sinker. It's an aerial, y'know."
"I know," Gary agreed. "It's also Ivy Iveson. She's gonna show off before she does anything, especially with all this Helic mecha about."
"How do you know so much about her?"
"Hey, every pilot has their fanboy." Gary cracked a crooked grin.

Mark had to suppress a laugh, then replied to Angel and Gary.
"that would be a problem. And Atta there is usually pretty sane, although he had a bad experience with Ivy, and he is definately not thinking straight. I'm hoping that the situtation can be defused, although I am not so sure what will happen. Do you think you might be willign to let my partner fight it out with Ivy, one on one? "

"Sure," Gary lied through his teeth. "Right, Ang?"
"Of course." Angel sighed. Pilots and their vendettas.
It's a good thing they didn't know about the demand to remove the Safecrackers, or Gary probably would've taken great glee in firing those suckers at the Liger and watching it go boom.

Atta kepe his missile pods on his bakc locked, and his heavy beam cannons ready, but was waiting to see what th response of the sinker would be. He was willing to disable the sinker if the safecrackers where not removed. Although he woudl not be killing poeple if he coudl help it.

Mark sighed, then nodded.
"Thanks. It would mean a lot. Atta is, shall we say, a unique indivual, and a close friend. He had some trauma at the hands of Ivy, and a duel with her might help him. He has had some problems since the fight, and a duel migth help."

Gary assumed a serious, stoic demeanor. "Violets beget naught but violets."
"Did you just . . ." Angel sighed again.
"Yeah. Yeah I did." Gary fought to keep the serious face on.

Mark caught the meaning of hte message.
"yes, that is true, but, at the moment, I think my partner is not right in teh head. His experience iwth Ivy most liekly cuased some trauma, and I fear that at the moment he is a bit unhinged. I don't want him to do something he will regret. I am hoping that a Duel will focus his attention and prevent any mishaps. I already am planning to have a talk with him afterwards."
Mark was nervous and a bit scared of the new Atta. Atta seemed ot be becoming what Atta did not want to. A berserk or insnae sentient zoid, whihc migth turn teh public against him. He hoped the duel idea would help focus Atta's attnetion, and he also planend, if things got out of contorl, to CSF Atta himself if Atta seemed ot be losing it and going berserk. Mark regretted brigning Atta out here, but it was a bit late now. All he could do now was hope that nothing bad happened. He turn his cannon towards Atta, hoping that he would not have to fire at him, but willing to fire at Atta's rear to CSF or dmaage his legs if Atta had ot be stopped.

O'Cella sat on the floor quietly as he listened to the antics of the Shield Liger's pilot and the consequential reactions of Alex in the Malder and the unknnown Saber Tiger pilot. With both eyes closed and his head resting on his hands which were being flattened against the side of his Saberlion's leg, the young pilot looked like he had fallen asleep.

Except, that is, for the occasional laughter that escaped his lips. So this is what happens when you get a couple of Zoid pilots together? Seems like everyone has a vendetta or two, maybe I should get one? When a judge capsule had entered the fray however, O'Cella showed the slightest bit of worry.

"Humans, fragile little things," he muttered to himself as he stood up, dusting off his black trousers before begining the short climb back up the Saberlions leg. "Don't want thirty-tons of anything squishing me now, do I?"

Although he was speaking to himself, the headset was still positioned to catch his every word and it was being broadcasted on a public channel. Hell, a four year old with a walky talky would probably be able to hear him.

"Not sure about a vendetta, maybe a team would be better."

Closing the cockpit of the Saberlion, leaning forwards ever so slightly in the seat to get a better look at the action, it didn't occur to O'Cella that he was still pretty much right smack in the middle of what would soon become a miniature fight. Instead he brought up zoomed in images of the different Zoids on the HUD, noting that the newest fighters were piloting a Guysack and Leomaster.

"All pilots, prepare for the Peasant Cup, ya pissant dogs!"

"Hey, wait! I'm not taking part in the Peasant Cup!"

Silence answered O'Cella as he stared at the zoomed in image of Judgeman 0042, his usually amused attitude vanishing at the thought. Sure, he was a little eccentric but even he knew that being in the middle of a fight on his own was suicide. He knew the names of only four pilots around him and out of those four only two from hear-say. Still, that didn't stop him from opening a video and radio channel to the Leomaster and Guysack pilots.

"Hey, kinda stuck in the middle of this little scrap you guys have got going on and... Well I'm thinking some team mates would be a good idea, even if it's only a temporary sort of thing..."

That was the closest O'Cella was getting to actually asking if they would have him on their team for the upcoming battle.

((Sol, that bit about Gary cracked me up.))

And that's when the Sinker rose into the air. Ivy had had just about enough of the posturing and posing and threatening, and during the entire conversation, she'd been doing her preflight checklist, finally releasing the clamps that held her craft down.

"So folks - this is a battle. So was the Mariner Royale. A constant trend of battles is that stuff tends to go boom. For lack of a better term, sh33t happens. And I really rather like my Safecracker javelins. So..."

The Sinker rose higher, then stood on its tail and shot straight up. The harsh roar of its ion jets cut across the battlefield.

Ivy's voice came back over the open channel. "So I'll terminate that lock myself," she said. The Sinker leveled off at altitude, breaking the surface-to-surface missiles' lock on her. "Now can we all please quit posturing and threatening and just get to the bloody battle?"

Down below, Alex resignedly powered down his generator, feeling relief wash over him as the bizarre tug on his skeletal structure waned to a tingle. His Malder slowly made its way to the starting area, a good ways in front of the team Gustav.

"All right, Ive - let's get this started."

Atta heard her refusal, and lost the missile lock. TO his mind, that meant the duel was off and time to open fire.
The Heavy beam cannons tracked her, and fired at her, one shot from both cannons, overloading the shots, pumpn gin more energy then normalyl allowed, dealign damage to the cannons, but in his state of mind, he did not care. The beam cannons then deployed to the sides, allowing the beam turret to deploy an open fire at Ivy, while the missile pods attempted ot gain another lock ,and moved off. Onc elock achieved he fired all his missiles, and hte beam cannons fired at Ivy again and agian as often as they could, Atta not caring about wehter they overheated or not.
(Atta is unblaanced a the moment. I blame the Trauma)

Mark cursed at what had happened.
He opened a priavte channel to all the other zoids , expect Atta. "Help me CSF ATta. "
He adjusted and fired his long range cannon, hoping to hit Atta on the back, trying to damage his mobility or even CSF him. He was sorry to do this, but he felt he had no choice. Atta might be out of control, and he felt he had no choice but to take Atta out, then have a talk with him later. After the cannon fired, he kept his distance, impatneitnly waiting for his cannon to reload so he coudl fire agian.

O'Cella grinned, something that appeared both confident and cocky, as he pushed himself back in the Saberlions pilot seat and pulled straps around his body that kept him in the seat. Although far from breaking the sound barrier, he really didn't want to be thrown around every time he executed a maneuver.

"Shield Liger, weakest spot... Back. Got it."

From the crouched position, O'Cella's electric blue Saberlion sprang forwards; in only a handful of seconds reaching more than a hundred and fifty kilometers per hour. while far from blindingly fast, as he was only trying to cover less than two hundred meters... Well, it was fast enough.

Before it was close enough to jump the Shield Liger the Saberlion slowed, its four claws vibrating at high frequencies, but only by a small amount. Fifteen kilometres down from what was now closer to two hundred made little difference in anything other than a race.

It leaped as it came closer, a single fluid movement that would bring the outstretched front claws across the Shield Liger's back unless it moved, or blasted him with either of its guns. He really didn't want the latter to happen all things considered.

"Bonus Question: Why shouldn't Helic engineers be allowed to play with artificial intelligence? Show your work."

Ivy shrugged a bit as the Liger opened fire. At her velocity and altitude, the Liger would need something of a miracle to hit her. She flipped her Sinker over and pulled a lazy split-S maneuver, using the antigrav system to shed airspeed. As the Saberlion began to take off towards this "Atta," she figured she'd add a little insult to the stupid thing and send a pair of Safecrackers into its back. Her strafing run, backed up by pulse fire, came at it from the rear, and then the side, since it was trying to turn around to get at her.

Ivy cranked the stick back and the Sinker roared upwards again. "'Cos you know they'll screw it up."

On the ground, Alex hesitated in firing his mortar cannon. The Saberlion would really benefit from not getting exploded before its first battle.

"O'Cella -" he mistakenly pronounced it 'oh-chella' "- I'm going to bring this monster down. Please clear out - I'd rather not hit you."

((Whups, didn't see ya there, Jules. Lemme just edit mah post.))

The Judgeman came back online just as the battle started.
" . . . Battle declared." It shrugged its shoulders.
"Battle declared!?" Gary was aghast. "You're letting them get away with attempted murder!?"
"Easy, Gary." Angel looked on in concern. "It's not quite that- Oh."
A massive pillar of energy blasted down with amazing precision, blowing a cylindrical crater where the Shield Liger used to be. The backblast knocked the Saber Tiger and Saberlion off their feet, making them prime targets for the rest of the pilots. So precise was this blast that the head alone remained intact, making for a very bad day for the now coreless zoid.
"Well, problem solved." Gary shrugged. "Alright. You. New guy who's now working with us, O'Cella. Make for the sonic slash doohicky on Mark's Cwic. I want him nice and preoccupied as I do . . . this!" He let loose with two of the three Safecrackers, popping the Iron Kong with high-speed javelins of justice. "Take that, stick it in yo' pipe an' smoke it like . . . like . . ."
"Shut up."
"Yes'm."
Angel, on the other hand, was tracking Ivy's ship with her rudimentary radar. "Ive, hon, you okay?" She tracked it as the Sinker avoided the beam weapon, then let her have it with both barrels.

"Look, Atta, honey. It's not you...it's me. You're heavy melee, I'm close-air support. I....*sigh* I just don't think this is going to work out, sweetie."

Alex thumbed the comm. "You know what they forgot to install in my Malder? A barf-bag dispenser."

Ivy grinned, pulling a wingover and leaving the stick canted to the side to disperse damage. "Hey, I thought it was funny." She leveled out. Time to test these wonderful new assault rifles on something that would appreciate 'em....like an Iron Kong.

Alex casually popped a mortar off at the Iron Kong, aiming to plant it on the ground directly next to its left kidney area. Closing the hatch quickly, he watched Ivy's craft go tearing overhead, laying a solid burst of automatic fire into the Kong's rocketbomb shoulder. She pulled off and pitched upwards, loosing her four torpedoes like dumb bombs. Alex had to hand it to her - she knew her stuff when it came to physics and trajectories. Those bombs followed a lovely arcing path through the air, headed directly towards the left arm.

His weaponry sealed tight, Alex kept up the pressure on the Kong's shoulder with his laserfire. "Ive, watch that DCS. I'll keep the Kong's attention."

"Roger dodger, mate." Ivy cut a canted turn around the Kong to avoid the boomshinies, rather like a satellite slingshotting around a planet's mass. She sped around the Kong's side at a noticeably higher altitude, gaining airspeed to come in from the DCS' side.

"I'll live," she said to Angel, conversationally. She backed it up with a burst of fire from her assault rifles, her first pair of Safecrackers, and a decent strafing of beam fire raking across the Liger's back lengthwise.

(Solaris, I'm not sure who it is you want me to fight?)

Valen, now closing the communications, went completely serious. He activated the Manuever Thruster Pack, and sent himself hurling into the air, diagonally from the mortar, while at the moment the Malder's shell opened, it fired the 4 missiles, Beam Gatling Unit, Triple Barreled Grenade Launcher, and all 10 Rockets, the Tactical Missile changing coordinates to the Shield Liger. Once the shell closed, the Composite Sensory Unit activated, giving him, and Hiro, an increase in aim as the tagged the area that the mortar had come from. Meanwhile, the Iron Kong was using it's MTP to boost into the air, and strafe while in the air, pausing once it hit the ground only to fire a TBGL into the area of the shell, and halting fire with the BGU every now and then, so that way it didn't drain the energy too much.

Meanwhile, the Saber Tiger locked all 11 of it's missiles on the Sinker, while it's own Composite Sensory Unit activated, and the missiles fired. The Saber Tiger activated it's Flight Pack, and took to the air with the Sinker, which was ignoring him. Activating it's complete arsenal, which includes (Ohh god...Here we go...) 20 mm Beam Cannon, AEZ Beam Cannons, Small Bore AZ 20 mm Laser Machinegun, AZ 208 mm 3-barreled Shock Cannon, AZ 30 mm Beam Cannon. The Saber Tiger attempted an interception mission, trying to catch the Sinker with it's Strike Claws, and Laser Fangs, though avoiding the fire that it was dealing on everything else.

((OOC: Ignore the crappy post, I had a better one, but it accidently got deleted.))

Atta was firign at hte sinker, then the beam hit. Pain flared as the beam attaked the body of the Shield Liger. By the time the assualt had finished adn Atta was reduced to jsut the head, he was already CSFed and out.

Mark stared at what remained of Atta. He sighed in relief. The head section was still there, and that meant Atta had survived. He pushed aside his concerns for Atta away fro the moment, righ tnow it was a battle. He had not done so well before, and he wanted to get some wins before he was taken out like usual. His first target was the saberloin, which had been knocked over, as well as himself. Mark struggled ot get back on his feet, already bringing his long range rifle to bear on the saberlion and firing as often as he could. Once back on his feet, he attmepted ot get some distance from the others, although still pounding hte sabertloin when he could in hopes of CSFing it.

((The Command Wolf IC, sorry. And it was the CWIC that was knocked on its feet, not the Zaber Tiger.))