New Age Chapter 2, a Zoids fanfic by Sh33p

Hats off to this fic. It tops most fics I've read....including most of the ones I posted here. Tim Seltzer, seltzer@seltzerbooks.com

"Look, he`s finally wakin` up," a gruff, intimidating voice sounded amusedly as Jamie opened his eyes. It felt like someone had just smacked him in the face with a lead pipe, and thanks to Leena`s frequent quasi-psychosis, he actually knew what that felt like. "Where am I?" Jamie asked. "On the highway to Hell," the voice replied. Jamie felt a hard kick move right into the small of his back, and almost convulsed to try and shield it, only to finally realize that his hands were bound in extremely tight shackles. "You should let me go," Jamie advised, feeling for his alter-ego. The Wild Eagle was either recovering or trying to gather itself up for something big.

Jamie knew this for the simple reason that he tended to be the same whenever the Wild Eagle was in control and something bad was happening. Whichever personality had gone submissive tended to be far weaker for however long is was allowing the other to take control, and Jamie usually had to really fight to wrestle control away when the Wild Eagle took over.

"And why should we do that?" The man asked, stepping around and in front of Jamie with a grin. He was big and imposing, Jamie could tell the fellow could likely kill him in a matter of seconds if he wanted. The room seemed to rock briefly. "You`re worth a lot to the Blitz Team after all, and since they just won the Royal Cup, they can probably pay quite a bit to get you back," he stated. "So really... Why should we let ya go, eh?" He asked, leaning forward with a grin.

"Because if you don`t, you`ll all die," Jamie said in a voice that oddly seemed both his own and someone else`s, eyes seeming distant and conflicted for a moment or two. The man seemed to cringe slightly and stood up straight, looking a little scared before kicking Jamie again, right in the stomach. The teen coughed briefly and rolled over, just as the room seemed to shake again.

"Hey Walt! This little idiot thinks he`s gonna kill us all if we don`t let `im go!" The man stated with false amusement after tapping one of the walls. Jamie remained silent after that, taking in the scenery and trying to figure out where he was.

Jamie stopped thinking after that, only listening to the Wild Eagle`s cryptic chuckling. He hated it when the other personality was right.

Leyon and Steven were still watching the same program as a Zoid battle raged across the television. A young veteran by the name of Kyle Mazemia was currently taking it to another young veteran by the name of Rayth Takahori, an aerial duel that scarcely seemed to fit into the designation of Class B.

"Ever notice how they get more and more vicious with every generation?" Leyon asked. "Not so much as vicious... I think they just seem to learn from those before them better than we did," Steve replied, kicking his feet up on the unused edge of the bed after sliding his loafers off. "True... If not for the accident, how much ya wanna bet that Oscar could wipe the floor with both of them?" Leyon asked with barely veiled amusement.

"This is Oscar we`re talking about, Leyon. Do you honestly think there`d be anything left to wipe the floor with?" Doctor Tauros asked.

"... Yeah, valid point there. Oscar always was a total lunatic when it came to his matches. Probably why he had the accident," Leyon replied. "Shame too, he`d probably still be the Class S solo champion if he had just used a bit of caution," Steve mused. "Well, he went out with a bang I guess... How many people can claim knocking off a four year streak of wins on a guy good enough to get in with an unmodified Rev Raptor for the championship?"

"Yeah... I think Jamie might be able to take his father`s place as a champion some day, assuming he can conquer the Wild Eagle the way Oscar did," Steve commented, watching as Mazemia`s Griffin dove down past the Black Stormsworder of the other pilot, arcing up off of the ground at the last second only to go tumbling out of control briefly as a number of rounds tore into it`s backside. "I doubt it. I only met the kid a few times but given how he saw what went down..." Leyon shook his head.

"Guess so... That reminds me, there a phone in here?" Tauros asked. "Over there," Leyon motioned with his free hand.

"Checkin` up on your daughter?" Leyon asked. "You need to stop reading my mind," Steve grumbled with a smirk. "Well maybe if you weren`t so blaringly obvious," Leyon countered. It was a rare moment of comradery between the two old friends-turned-rivals.

"Oh... Hi Dad," Leena said, holding the phone on her shoulder while pouring a drink. "No, Brad, Bit and I are the only ones here right now," she replied calmly, attempting to avoid mentioning Brad`s little problem for the duration. "Jamie went to go find you actually. Where are you anyhow?" Leena asked, setting the drink back into the fridge and walking back into the living room with a grimace. "Oh... How is he?" Leena asked. "That bad, huh?"

Stepping past Brad, who was still busy holding a conversation with the table by forehead-based morse code, Leena settled down onto the couch and continued speaking. "Sounds pretty serious... Is he concious or... Ah. No, Bit`s busy working on fixing the Liger Jaeger armor. Why? Uh... Well... Hm..."

"Oh no, it`s nothing... Well, ya see, Bit`s challenged this new guy named Marcus Harlock because he... Well... I`ll let Brad tell you," Leena excused, shoving the phone into Brad`s ear. "Say it," she ordered with that moderately psychotic look on her face.

The phone promptly crackled and the only sound audible for around thirty seconds was Doctor Tauros` screaming and ranting, soon joined by a slightly irate Leyon.

"Yeah. That about sums it up," Brad mumbled, calmly pushing the phone away and resuming the thumping of his forehead into the table. Again. "So there you have it," Leena said, casually sitting back down. "Oh... Brad`s taking it well aside from the fact he`ll probably snap the living room table if he keeps smacking his face into it. I wouldn`t worry too much, Bit`ll probably pull out another win like he did against Vega."

"Fa la la la..." Brad mumbled, drawing back and roughly slamming his forehead into the table one last time. The table didn`t break. "That was just Brad knocking himself out, nothing too serious," Leena stated. "I`ll let you go now, tell Doctor Leyon I said to get well soon. Alright, love you too, bye." Leena tapped the button to turn the phone off and then set it back down on the table with a grimace. "I hope for your sake Bit wins, Brad... Otherwise Leyon and Dad both are gonna castrate you with a wet wooden spoon," Leena mused, getting back up and walking out of the room, absently leaving her drink behind.

"Haven`t been attacked yet..." Mark mumbled to himself, looking around the barren wasteland around him. Perhaps it was because his Gustav wasn`t dragging along two cargo containers like those that had gone missing, but he didn`t put too much thought into that. He didn`t need cargo right now, after all, the fact he had the magnetic systems on either towing trailer turned up to the maximum and a loaded shotgun was settled firmly into the seat beside his own pretty clearly demonstrated his intentions at the moment.

"Did I get the right directions here or did they vanish farther down the road?" He asked himself, checking the scanner again with a bemused expression. Marcus had been expecting an attack by now, Gustavs weren`t exactly fighting Zoids but since the economy of the world rode around on their heavily armored hides and their Zoid cores had a reputation as being tough and easily removed and adapted to others, it was only logical that if there was someone trying to stop shipments of supplies to and from the town, they would try to attack a lone Gustav.

"... Forgot about the two machine guns I got on this thing," he muttered to himself, smacking his forehead only to fling sideways and almost out of his seat a split second later as an explosion rocked the side of the Gustav`s thick hide. "Was wondering when they`d attack," he thought aloud, calmly checking the scanner, zooming out on it once and then a second time. "Damn, a cloak user..."

Another explosion smacked the hull of the Gustav, and briefly a spec was visible on the scanner. Marcus zoomed in, biding his time since the sniper had miscalculated and put himself too high up to get an easy shot on the wheels or the cockpit. "Just pull that trigger one more time..." Marcus begged, swerving the Gustav onto an offroad course in the direction of the gunshots.

"You sir, are an idiot," Marcus said quietly, pounding the accelerator right into the floor with his right foot and using his left to try and root himself while leaning back in the seat. "Not just any idiot either," he mused, watching as his attacker`s cloak flittered in against the background in front or behind him, seeming to go straight up before spiralling through the air. "But an owned idiot at that," he stated, hitting the breaks and feeling the telltale *THUMP* as his would-be attacker found himself pinned down to the first trailer by the magnetic locking mechanism.

"A righteously owned idiot no less," Marcus insulted again, bringing the Gustav to a complete stop and opening up the cockpit. Grabbing the shotgun and climbing back out, the lanky young man idly walked around the way of the Gustav and shook the weapon by the handle underlining the large barrel, promptly taking hold of the grip a few seconds and raising the weapon up to aim. "Come out with your hands up!" He ordered as the magnetics of the trailer shorted out the cloak to reveal a lightly modified Gunsniper that had two extra sniper rifle-type guns set forward in a similar manner to the larger gattlings on Leena Tauros` Gunsniper.

"I`ll give you one more chance! Out, NOW!" Marcus ordered loudly, stepping forward and rounding the way between the first trailer and the Gustav, ducking under the thick cable that bound the trailer to his Zoid and coming out from between them facing the cockpit of the pinned Gunsniper. He could now see that the two moveable head-spines present on the typical Gunsniper were missing from this one, replaced instead by two small disc-like objects running parallel to one another on thin antennae behind the head.

Both objects promptly snapped off and the Gunsniper struggled in vein to get up, it`s cloaking mechanism literally broken off. "Alright, have it your way," Marcus grumbled, raising the barrel of the shotgun a little higher and firing off a warning round. He never used buckshot, just solid slugs and the occasional explosive round. Common practice among Gustav transporters, thieves and the like tended to be less trouble when you could blow out the limbs of most extremely small or weak Zoids or outright kill someone trying to hold you up.

The effect was the same either way though, the thick orange glass of the cockpit cracked under the pressure of the round, chipping away lightly at the impact point. It wasn`t much really, but given how Marcus aimed in the exact same spot a second later and took a second shot, it began to add up. The second slug pounded into the first, expanding the cracks and weakening the glass a bit further. He hesitated on the third shot though, lowering the weapon and giving the barrel grip a pump before raising it again.

"My next shot is an explosive round, open the cockpit or eat shrapnel!" Marcus warned once more, settling his aim on the exact center of the cracking, right for the first two slugs that had been stopped by the glass. "Five seconds!" He warned.

The glass opened up before he even got to start counting. A stocky looking man in his early thirties stood inside, hands held high, obviously having trouble standing since he was wearing a metal-laced armored jacket. "Step out of the Zoid, now," Marcus ordered, keeping the gun aimed right at the man. The other simply smirked.

And that was when Marcus felt the cold steel of a pistol press into the back of his neck.

"How about you put your gun down instead?" A new voice questioned from behind. "I`d rather not," Marcus quipped monotonously. "Too bad. Drop it," the short man in the cockpit ordered. "You value your partner`s life?" Marcus asked. No reply. "If you pull that trigger, you`ll cause a death or paralyzation reflex, and I`ll kill him as a result," he stated coldly. "He`s wearing armor, you twit," the guy behind him stated impatiently. "Armor that doesn`t cover his face from an explosive shotgun round," Mark replied calmly. "Drop him Tom!" The one in the cockpit yelled.

"Yanno..." Marcus trailed off, lowering his aim significantly. "I could always shoot him in the groin and let him bleed to death instead," he commented offhandedly. "KILL `IM!!!" The man in the cockpit begged frantically. "Or maybe I could just drop you like a bad habit," the fellow identified as Tom suggested. "You really need better threats," Marcus commented sarcastically.

"Blow me," Tom grumbled. "Okay," Marcus stated cheerfully, suddenly falling down to his knees and slinging the shotgun back and up, right into Tom`s chin. "Consider yourself BLOWN!" Marcus yelled, pulling the trigger and closing his eyes. Tom`s body landed several seconds later, followed by the stocky fellow screaming and keeling over in pained shock as his newly deceased comrade put a bullet into his knee and the magnetic pull of his armored jacket, yanking him out of the cockpit and dropping him onto the trailer harshly before punning him there.

Mark slowly got to his feet, sorely shaking his legs out. "Remind me not to try and slide on my knees like that again," he said to himself, taking a look over his shoulder at the downed form of Tom. His face was effectively gone from the chin up, and what was left had warped around the trail of a small explosion. His hand was reflexively clutching to the gun hard enough that it had broken the trigger mechanism, his other hand, and the rest of him, lay in the sand. Permanently.

"... I hate doing that," Mark cringed to himself, turning back to the other and walking up to the trailer, setting the shotgun down on it`s surface and climbing up onto it before walking over towards the groaning, teary eyed fellow. "Where`s your base of operations?" Marcus asked. "MY LEG`S BEEN BLOWN OUT MAN! WHAT THE HELL KINDA QUESTION IS THAT?!" The fellow asked in a rage. "Ain`t my fault your partner was an idiot, now where`s the base? Or do you want me to let you sit there bleeding while I take you to the police in town?" He asked sternly.

"A mile East," the man grit out. "Good. Now, I`ll be nice and give you a choice: Want me to take you to town for medical attention or let you go and leave your fate in your own hands?" Mark asked. "Lemme go!" The other replied. "Alright," Marcus shrugged, reaching down and roughly yanking open the armored jacket and roughly dragging the man out of it before flinging him off the side of the trailer. "What about my Zoid?!"

"I`m confiscating this damn thing to pawn it to a junk shop later," Marcus replied, allowing the other to tumble down into the sand and then hopping down, dragging the shotgun off with him. "You can`t leave me here!" The other yelled. "What about the reward for me?"

"There isn`t a bounty on you, your gang is obviously unknown. Not worth it there, and what about the pilots of the Gustavs you took out before I freight trained you?" Marcus asked calmly, stepping back around the Gustav. "Besides, I told you I was letting you decide your own fate. You picked the choice, not me," he stated, setting the safety on the shotgun and lazily chucking it into the still-open shotgun.

"I`ll tell your boss you said 'hi!'" Marcus shouted, climbing into the cockpit and tapping the button to shut it before pressing the pedal to accelerate again. Mark didn`t exactly like leaving injured people out in the desert miles from civilization, but the guy did try to kill him and likely did kill more than a few other pilots before him so it wasn`t exactly like he hadn`t asked for it. Karma and all that.

"Best be on the look out," he reminded himself, setting the scanner to the maximum zoom-out and keeping an eye to it frequently.

"Just give me control Jamie, I don`t want to have to overwhelm you for it... Or let you get us almost killed."

"Just give me control Jamie, do you want them to kill us? Do you want our father to wrack himself over what`s happening?"

"I can`t keep that, I`ve already promised to kill them and the Wild Eagle always keeps his word."

"... Just take over. I hope I don`t regret this someday," Jamie thought with a sniffle. The Wild Eagle was something that terrified him at so many levels, he envied it and yet he was disgusted by it. The ultimate in unavoidable love-hate relationships. "That`s what I thought," he said a few seconds later, though the voice wasn`t his own. His face and hair both seemed to change slightly, becoming streaked back towards either side like crests while his eyebrows lowered somewhat.

Outside the cell, screaming and the sounds of sobbing could be heard after a loud thud, causing the lone gaurd to shift uneasily. The screaming continued, the sobbing picked up and the gaurd cringed inwardly, standing up and checking through the small sliding window in the door to see the youth laying on his side on the floor in the darkened cell. "Damn," he thought annoyedly. Something must have happened to the kid in-transit. Probably Del`s work, that guy always did have a habit of kicking the little guys too hard if they spoke up.

Removing the keys from a chain on his belt, the gaurd calmly unlocked the door and opened it up, only to find that the teen had all but vanished from sight. "What the hell?"

Stepping back but keeping his head peaked into the cell to make sure the kid wasn`t hiding under the excuse for a bed or anything.

And that was when the heavy steel door slammed shut violently on his head with a rather disgusting series of cracks and squishing sounds. The gaurd fell to the floor a second later, dead, while the Wild Eagle quietly slipped out of the shadows behind the door and crouched down, grabbing the man`s gun and forcibly yanking the keys from the chain on his belt before pocketing them for himself.

"And while your at it, learn to dress better," the Wild Eagle grumbled, stepping past the body and checking the gun. It was a pistol, plain, average power. It`d do.

Turning down the corridor, the Wild Eagle paused at the sight before him: Over a dozen jail cells exactly like his own. "Think we were the only prisoners?" He asked himself. "... I hope not. If we were, then they killed anyone else..." Jamie answered. "I`ll just check all the cells then. We may be able to use them as a distraction anyway," the Wild Eagle thought, keeping the gun raised and stepping cautiously up to the first cell before opening the small window.

"Let`s just say fate gave you an unlikely friend with a gun," the Wild Eagle replied, lowering his hand back into the pocket of Jamie`s shorts and removing the keys before unlocking the door and pushing it open. The prisoner stepped out slowly and took the keys. "Check the other cells and unlock any that have people in them," the Wild Eagle instructed, stepping forward slowly once again and checking down the hallway, vanishing into an open door a few moments afterward.

A gunshot rang out, the former prisoner winced and glanced down the hall anxiously.

Then the Wild Eagle stepped back out of the room, holding a newly acquired gun and speaking up. "What`s your name?" He asked. "Terry," the prisoner stated slowly. "Well then Terry, ready to crash a parade?" The Wild Eagle asked, tossing the gun over to Terry, who caught it in one hand, using the other to unlock the door of the third cell.

Author`s Note: Sorry if my format seems hard to follow folks, it`s just the style I write in when I`m doing stories that aren`t first person-based. Hopefully you won`t mind too much that I intend to stick with it but... Either way. *shrugs.*

New Age by Sh33p

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New Age

Chapter 2

Cruel Intentions of the Wild Eagle