


The Council Guardsman

by TermiteStudios



Category: Zoids
Genre: Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2014-01-09 06:57:30
Rating: T
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,668
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9789679/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1310218/TermiteStudios
Summary: A once-legendary pilot awakens in a whole new world. Fearing the life he knew to be lost forever, he takes to the unfriendly skies in the hopes of finding a new reason to fight.





	1. Chapter 1, Awakening

The following work of fiction is based on the Chaotic Century setting from the Zoids franchise developed by TOMY. It is not an official work of the franchise, and as such will generate no revenue for the franchise, the work's author, or the site(s) upon which it is published.

* * *

Explosions rocked the facility as they hurried their way down the dimly-lit hallway. The tall rugged Zoid pilot led the frightened young girl by the hand into a room where the four technicians prepared the equipment for her. There were many machines and control stations, all of which had been installed in a hurry so there was no time to cover the cables connecting the various components. In the corner, connected via cables in just such an inelegant fashion was a silver organoid.

"Report," the pilot said. He was indeed rugged, despite his clean-cut military uniform, the officer's saber at his side and the accolades depicted by the emblems upon his jacket. His messy hair was brown in color and his face bore many scars and deformations from fist fights. On the left side of his face were two long and thin crescent-shaped black tattoos: one tracing vertically over his reddish-brown eye from his forehead, past the corner of his mouth and down to his chin, and the second, shorter one running parallel to the first from cheekbone to jawbone.

"Lieutenant Colonel Riker, sir, we are two minutes to completion." one of the technicians answered with a brief salute.

"Make it fast, but make it right," the Colonel said. "I don't want any mistakes with her."

"Roger that, Colonel. We'll run a secondary diagnostic once we've finished the configuration."

"Anything goes wrong," he said sternly, "and I'll be sending you outside in an unarmed Godos and leave you for the slaughter."

"Sir, I assure you I know better than to cross a Hell Hound squad leader. We will do our due diligence."

The pilot then turned to the young girl standing at his side. Thirteen years of age, she had long blonde hair which reached all the way down to her legs. Her face was the very essence of innocence, with two aqua-colored triangle marks just above and between her eyebrows. She was very finely dressed in clothes very indicative of her noble class.

"Listen to me," he said to her, dropping the formal military attitude and adopting a calmer tone. "I know everything here looks scary, but trust me. All of this here is what's going to save all of us."

"Colonel!" A corporal rushed into the room and saluted the pilot. "Report from the front! It's getting closer and the entire Third Battalion is gone!"

"Signal the rear artillery to keep up the cover fire and order the front line to target the head!" he commanded. "I want you to keep that beam offline!"

"Y-yes sir!" the soldier replied. He then hurried off in the direction he came, shouting the Colonel's orders into his radio. "Heavy artillery is a go to open fire! Signal the rear guns!"

"And you!" the pilot snapped at the technicians. "I want her secure long before it gets here!"

"One more connection, sir. Starting diagnostics now."

"Seth," the girl tugged at his sleeve, "what's it going to do?"

He knelt down so he was now eye-level with the girl. Talking to her was all he could do to ease her grave concern.

"Well, Elisi, right now things outside are looking pretty bad, so we're gonna take cover for a while and wait it out. All this here is the kind of stuff that's gonna help us do that, only this room right here is just to keep you safe while we wait."

"What about you?"

"Don't you worry about me. I'll be just a couple of rooms away."

"Sir, first diagnostic is completed," a technician said.

"And?"

"No problems, sir. Now beginning secondary tests. Let's get her ready for the transfer."

The Colonel led her closer to one of the components. On the floor was a circular base with cables leading out of the center and coiled neatly around it. Above it was the green glass pod that would lower itself over her. Still more cables hung through the pod and their ends lay on the floor. Just ten feet away was the pod's twin, where the silver organoid was being led by another technician.

"Lady Linette," the lead technician said to the girl, "for a proper transfer, we need direct skin contact, so... you'll need to remove your clothes."

She was understandably uneasy with the idea, but a reassuring look from the Colonel comforted her. As they requested, she disrobed and stood blushing in the center of the base.

"Final diagnostic complete, sir. We are ready to begin."

"Start it," the Colonel commanded.

"Yes, sir. Beginning memory transfer of Lady Elisi Lynette." Immediately, the cables that had been lifeless on the floor suddenly snaked their way around the girl. This startled her, but to her credit she did not jump away.

At the other pod, the same thing was happening to the organoid.

"Elisi," the Colonel said to her, "I may not be here when you wake up." The organoid began to glow through it's metal plating and the glass pods began to descend over them. The Colonel hastened to speak before it sealed, "Just remember the way back is through the Fiona Gate!"

Several mechanical shudders and a hiss of pressurized air indicated the pods were sealed. Nothing he could say further would reach her ears.

"Did it work?" he asked the technicians, staring at the green glass as if he could still see her face.

"No anomalies in the organoid, Colonel Riker. All indications show that the memories transferred successfully. As soon as she enters the organoid after she awakens, everything should come back to her."

"And if not?"

"Her actual memories will seem like deja vu, sir. I know that sounds risky, but this is the best way to ensure her survival."

The Colonel continued to stare at the pod. The lead technician approached and put a hand to his shoulder.

"Sir, she's in good hands. Now if we don't hurry up and seal you in we won't be able to secure this facility in time."

"Right," he answered, tearing himself away. "Keep her safe."

As he left the room, the technicians remained behind to finalize the process. On his way out, the corporal from before caught up and walked with him further down the hall.

"Colonel Riker, sir," the corporal saluted him.

"Tell me what's happening, Corporal."

"Sir, the Eighteenth Armor Division has disabled one of its legs."

"Which means they've bought us more time. Get that unit a fucking medal when this is over."

"Also, sir, we have reports that it's out of ammunition. The beam is its only weapon now."

"Doesn't mean we're free and clear. But this does mean we can start the bombing runs. Move the Pteras and Redler squadrons in and relocate the artillery Whale Kings around behind it."

"Yes, sir."

"While you're at it, get me the status of Lieutenant Eirenis in the Delta Facility."

"Understood, Colonel."

Another explosion rocked the building, causing them to stumble.

"And find out what the hell did that!"

"Right away, sir!"

The corporal took off back down the direction he came while the Colonel continued to walk. He came to another room full of equipment just like the one where he left the girl, only there were many more pods, some of which had already been sealed, and there was no organoid to speak of anywhere in the rom.

"Are we ready?" he asked the technicians tending to the equipment.

"In a moment, sir," the lead technician answered. With concern, he said, "But Colonel, before we start, I have to tell you that there's no assurance that this will work without an organoid."

"There's no time to find one," he reminded them.

"But sir, you may not even survive!"

"I've done the math and I find the risk acceptable. I'm aware that signing up for this didn't come with any guarantees."

"Sir, I-"

"You have your informed consent," he snapped. "Get to work."

"Very well, Colonel. Give us just a moment and we'll prepare your unit."

"Make it fast. It's leg is busted but that doesn't mean it can't kill us from a distance."

"They broke one of its legs?" another technician asked. "Hell, we might beat this thing yet!"

"And we might not," the Colonel reminded them. "That's why we're doing this; because we don't know what it's full strength is. This is our last chance to avoid extinction."

"Y-you're right, sir. I'm sorry."

The corporal returned, almost out of breath.

"Colonel, the explosion was a charged particle beam that hit us by chance. It was aimed at the Hammerheads but missed them and hit us."

"Any damage?"

"It was a grazing hit, so we only sustained minimal exterior damage."

"And what about Lieutenant Eirenis?"

"They tell me she's just been secured."

"Good. And the Ultra?"

"They finished hiding it ten minutes ago, sir."

"And what about the Crimson Sworder?"

A technician answered this time. "We've stowed it in the hangar just beneath us, Colonel. We've uploaded the data you requested into its memory and stocked the small-arms cache."

"Sir, we're ready for you," the lead technician said to him.

"All right." The Colonel stood in the middle of the circular base underneath the glass pod. He proceeded to take off his military jacket and saber, and handed them to the corporal. "Have these put in the Sworder's cockpit, Corporal." Before the corporal could walk away, the Colonel said, "And Corporal, these are my final orders: Secure the last of the candidates then shut down this facility. When that's done, evacuate everyone out of here and signal our forces to retreat. Anyone not in a fast-mover is to hitch a ride with someone who is. Get far away from that thing and bury yourselves in bunkers. Shut off power, cut off communications, whatever you need to do to look dead to that thing and wait it out. Whatever you do, use good sense and survive."

"Mongrels never give up, sir," the corporal saluted one last time.

"Beginning hibernation of Lieutenant Colonel Seth Riker," the lead technician said, and the cables snaked themselves over his body and the glass pod descended over him. "See you on the other side, Colonel."

With a shudder and hiss of air, everything went dark.

* * *

No light penetrated the old walls, though the shockwaves of outside explosions from the ensuing battle did. The dilapidated ceiling had lost pieces of itself before, but only as a result of time's brutal erosion. Now, as a result of the fierce battle outside, it threatened to collapse entirely and crush the pods below. All but two had already been damaged by debris from the ceiling, one of which had fallen through a hole in the floor, and not having been properly released their inhabitants had died. Of the two that remained, one had failed to keep a seal, and the body within had decayed as if deceased. Only one remained intact, but not for long if the roof continued to fall.

Sensing the instability of the structure, the system lit up and initiated an emergency awakening of the one remaining pod. The glass was cracked, releasing the pressure and it then fell away, revealing the form of Seth Riker, hanging limp on the cables.

He awakened to find that one of the cables holding him up had him by the neck, depriving his lungs of desperately needed air. Struggling, he finally freed himself and fell to the floor, coughing and gasping.

His sight returned to him and he gathered his surroundings. How long had it been? Five years? Ten? Surely longer than that for this much decay to have occurred. He found the door and tried to open it, but it had rusted shut in the tracks and wouldn't move. How else was he supposed to get out of there? And if this room was so decrepit, what did that mean for the room which held Elisi?

The ceiling was not an option. There just wasn't any guarantee it would hold his weight. But there was that hole in the floor. Didn't the technicians say the Crrimson Sworder was in the hangar just below?

He smashed the glass of the already damaged pod next to the hole and wrestled the cables off the bones of its expired sleeper. Most of the cables still had a strong connection to the base, so he threw them down the hole to give himself a rope to climb down into the pitch-black hangar.

He reached the end his rope before touching the ground. He hung there, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and hoping the dim light spilling in from the room above would be enough to see something that might be a clue as to how far away the floor was. Slowly but surely, he saw the outline of his Crimson Sworder. Surely it would be safe to drop from that height.

Preparing for the worst in this dark abyss, he released the cables. It felt like an eternity to fall, but he finally felt the ground and the shattered glass from the pod that had fallen in. Ignoring whoever it might have been sleeping in there, he made his way to his blood-red-colored resting zoid..

It was a fantastic machine, and it had come a long way from it's first days as a standard Storm Sworder. The most valuable addition in Seth's mind was the arms. Adapted from a Guysak's arms, they increased the Crimson Sworder's close combat abilities significantly. The centerline engine had been removed to make room for the power unit that drove the arms, and the wing blades had been moved into the old engine bay, hidden by fast-opening doors and were deployed by attaching to the arms mid-flight. To make up for lost thrust, the two remaining engines were replaced with much more powerful ones with adjustable exhaust fins, improving maneuverability beyond that of any zoid Seth had ever faced in his time as a pilot. This, however, made the Blood Sworder unstable. To fix this, as well as add even more maneuverability, thrusters were added to the ends of the arms. The arm thrusters combined with the directional thrust of the main engines meant the Blood Sworder could take off and land without a runway. To account for all these changes, the entire fuselage had to be lengthened. This, as it happened, improved the drag coefficient, giving the Sworder an even higher top speed. Finally, the head-mounted blade was removed, and instead the bite strength of the jaws was increased, and even more hardpoints for missiles were installed. With this, Seth was a terror of the skies.

Seth found the exterior switch that opened the canopy and found his saber and jacket on the seat as he requested. He stowed them next to the passenger seat in the back of the cockpit. Looking around the controls, he found the switch for the exterior lights and activated them, flooding the hangar with light. At last, he could see the walls and the doorway that would lead him to the rest of the decaying facility. He had to know if Elisi had survived.

Expecting the worst, he climbed down from the cockpit and opened the small-arms cache on the Sworder's leg. He retrieved an assault rifle, two spare ammunition clips and a light to attach under the rifle's barrel. After checking to make sure the light worked, he set off through the doorway.

The hallways seemed even darker since his eyes had time to adjust to the light in the hangar cast by the Sworder. The dark passageways were just as decrepit as the rest of the building. He didn't know the exact layout of the building, but logic dictated that a stairwell wouldn't be far from the hangar.

At last, there was a way up. The industrial stairs were never meant to last this long. The sheet metal that comprised the steps was horribly rusted, to the point where there was no way it would hold even half his weight. The handrails and support beams, however, were made of galvanized steel. He'd stand a better chance if he climbed up the hard way.

After shining the light upward to scan for threats, he slung the rifle over his shoulder and began his ascent. The hangar was designed to hold airborne zoids for service, which meant it had a minimum height of sixty feet, so he had at least five flights to climb.

The long term slumber must have weakened him, because with his military training there was no way that climbing that height should wear him down so much. Upon reaching the fifth floor, he was exhausted. But it didn't matter. It wasn't far to where Elisi slept. He took a moment to catch his breath, then pressed on.

He was in the right hallway, for certain. There was the door to his room that had rusted shut. She was only a few doors down.

It looked like someone had already been through this hall in the past few years. Some doors had been opened, and some pieces of equipment had been looted. It would seem that none of the looters had ever thought to risk the climb down the stairs. And, after the climb up, Seth couldn't blame them.

At last, he'd found the right room. But the door was open. This did not bode well at all, for it was the prescribed procedure to shut interior doors when they shut down the facility.

He ever so slowly dared to approach the doorway. Inside, he saw the worst imaginable: both pods had been broken and the far wall had been completely demolished.

Frantically, he scanned the room for clues as to what happened. But whatever it was seemed to have happened some time ago. The fluid from the capsules had long since dried up, and the metallic base had rusted over as a result of the saline solution. Elisi was gone, and so was the organoid. It could have happened a week ago, or it could have been years.

The one saving grace was there were no bodily remains to speak of. This meant she might still be alive somewhere. If she had indeed perished, it wasn't here.

Continued explosions from outside forced Seth to decide that there was no point venturing any further from the Crimson Sworder, so he doubled back to the hangar. After stowing the assault rifle back into the cache, he returned to the cockpit and took his seat.

There, sitting at the controls, it all came back to him. It had taken years of testing and development to perfectly tailor the controls for the intricacies of the Crimson Sworder's heightened abilities, but it was well worth it, for they fit Seth like a glove. As long as they felt like an extension of himself, no one could possibly call themselves his equal.

Strapping himself in, he initiated the engine startup sequence. They slowly groaned gradually louder until mercifully letting loose an almighty roar which shook the cockpit.

The Crimson Sworder was alive once more.

Systems check completed, he aimed the exterior lights around, searching for the main door. Eventually he found it, hidden behind the remains of an improperly stored Hammerhead. Clearing away the wreckage was necessary, but use of explosives was too risky. Now, more than ever, Seth was grateful of the addition of the melee arms. They made short work of the decayed mess, and he then turned them on the hangar's flimsy inner door. It was ripped apart like it was paper.

Only one obstacle remained: the outer blast doors at the end of the tunnel. They were built to survive tremendous explosions. From the outside, at least.

"Two should do it just fine," he said to himself. Pressing a small switch on the flight controls to activate the voice controls, he said "Set target: visual boresight," thus setting the targeting system lock straight ahead, and fired a pair of missiles. They streaked into the black, disappearing before detonating on impact with the door. Merciful daylight shone through the smoke, and the Crimson Sworder set off at full throttle, ready for whatever challenge lay in wait.


	2. Chapter 2, Target Engaged

Thieves and bandits developed a nasty habit of using ancient ruins to hide from the law once the new alliance between the Guylos Empire and the Helic Republic came to be. Bolstered by the might of rogue military groups who opposed the alliance, they set to turning these old ruins into fortified bases. Despite their best efforts, they were still no match for real military might, and this particular group soon found themselves facing an Imperial regiment.

With the fortified ruins providing cover and the help of rogue soldiers, however, the bandits were putting up more than a decent fight. Their motley collection of Redlers, Gordoses, Molgas, Command Wolves and a scant few Iron Kongs held up well against the heavily armed regiment.

Mortar shells rained down on the ancient structure while the bandits fired back in earnest. On one ledge stood two Command Wolves firing their artillery on the Imperial forces below, relatively safe from incoming fire. Suddenly, the wall behind them exploded, sending one of them over the ledge to plummet to its destruction. At an incredible velocity out of the hole flew the Crimson Sworder. The second Command Wolf regained its footing and opened fire on the battle's latest participant.

"Hotter than I thought out here," Seth said as he dodged the fire coming from all directions. "Broadcast Council-friendly identifier and open coms for all channels," he instructed the Crimson Sworder's control system, then into the radio called out, "This is Lieutenant Colonel Riker of the Council Guard requesting you cease fire immediately!"

The only response he received was additional gunfire from both sides.

"Doesn't anybody listen? I repeat: cease fire! This is a friendly!"

Still, there was no response, and he had no choice but to dive to get away from the heavy shelling.

"Last warning! Call off your attack or I will return fire!"

Two of the Redlers fired missiles at the Crimson Sworder, and Seth knew the time for talk was over.

"So be it." Activating the voice controls, he said, "Sort targets."

The Crimson Sworder snap-rolled right and deployed its arm blades, deftly severing the necks of a pair of Zaber Fangs. Turning about, he trained his sights on the Redlers swarming the skies. Letting the targeting system sort out four radar locks, he fired four missiles simultaneously, which hit their targets dead-center. The last three were quickly dispatched by the Crimson Sworder's blades.

All guns were now trained on the Crimson Sworder, but its incredible speed and their lack of any remaining radar guided missiles gave Seth the confidence that he could wipe them out in no time. He pushed the throttle to it's absolute limit and put some distance between him and the enemy. Finally half a mile away, he turned sharply about and leveled off at just fifty feet above the ground, perfectly lined up for a strafing run.

His prey continued to fire in vain as they were riddled with holes from the Sworder's gatling cannons. A particularly resilient Dark Horn required the addition of a high-speed strike to the shoulder joint with the blades to take it down.

With the units on the ground taken care of, he turned his sights on the bandits holed up on the ruin's ledges. He couldn't afford the ammunition required to neutralize all of them, so he returned to the Dark Horn. The Crimson Sworder returned its left arm blade to its housing in the underbelly and grasped the vulcan cannon on the back of the Dark Horn. With the other blade, Seth smashed the connections, removing the cannon from the fallen zoid. Retracting the other blade and pushing the throttle to the limit, he hoisted the cannon high in the air.

"Divert stability control to augmented fire management," he said, and the targeting system began to compensate for the weight, recoil and firing trajectory of the cannon. At the same time, Seth began to wrestle the controls as the zoid became unstable. The targeting system mapped out the enemy positions, and with a pull of the trigger every one of them fell to cannon fire.

* * *

"Slate One-Actual pilot's log. Post-awakening, day one. Lieutenant-Colonel Riker reporting," Seth said, narrating his log. He had landed miles and miles away and hidden in the shadowy shelter of a cliff face.

"Initial observations suggest that it's been much longer than the ten years we planned. The facility was in severe disrepair, both the interior and the exterior, and the local climate has drastically changed. There were no signs of any additional survivors. Lady Lynette's chamber was empty, but there were no remains, thus opening the possibility that she may still be alive. However, that possibility is low, given I have no confirmation on the current date.

"By some miracle, the Crimson Sworder has remained perfectly intact. A few anomalies in engine output according to diagnostics, but nothing out of line for a zoid coming into service after a long storage, even if the hangar was hermetically sealed. We sure built a hell of a machine.

"After searching the facility, I made my way out and found that two factions were battling each other outside. One regiment had taken cover in the decayed hibernation facility, and appear to have collected their weapons systems from various sources, given the inconsistent markings. The second force looked to be more like a traditional military outfit. After both factions showed repeated signs of aggression and no response to radio hails, I had no choice but to return fire. After neutralizing the threats, I egressed to a safe location to reassess the situation.

"I still can't raise anyone on any of the com channels, open or encrypted. All I've been able to get is some static on the upper-most frequencies. The pattern doesn't match any known encryption schemes.

"During the egress I activated recon systems. Aerial photography shows recently used roads and small, fairly primitive encampments, though a lack of military equipment in these establishments suggest these are civilian camps. Apart from the forces I encountered earlier, I don't see any real military presence. The Sworder's radar system is picking up radar transmitters a considerable distance away, and while the idea of reestablishing friendly contact is tempting, there's also the potential for another engagement with hostile forces like before. Until I gather more intel, it'll be best to avoid any potential military establishments.

"At present, I've taken refuge under a cliff near what seems to be one of the many civilian camps in the region. I've used long-range optics to establish how best to disguise myself and I will set out on foot to gather more intel covertly. End of log."

* * *

Covered in a brown cloak to shield from the sun's heat and hide his military uniform, Seth entered the desert town. He didn't dare say anything for a while, at least until he heard the local dialect. After listening to a few conversations, he felt confident he could imitate it. It sounded crass and simplistic with many contractions and hard consonants, much like the old farmers from his home town. Seth realized that years of service in the Council Guard had made him sound a bit like one of the pretentious blue-bloods he once despised.

After seeing a few transactions at shops, he was able to determine what was currency, and was able to procure a bit from villagers' pockets with some sleight-of-hand, a skill he developed as a child that had long gone unused. He used it to purchase some food to get by for the next few days.

As he wandered town, he heard talk of two nations, apparently at peace following a long war, though there were stirs of conflict being drummed up by bandits, which would certainly explain the commotion at the hibernation facility. But this information about the two nations was beneficial. Until he knew which nation would be friendlier towards a member of the Council Guard, it would be best to avoid both.

He made the long trek back to the Crimson Sworder's hiding place, trying to imagine how long he had slumbered. If there were two nations now, could it be that the civil war reignited after the planned awakening? Was there anyone left who would recognize him as part of the Council Guard?

His mind then drifted to thoughts of Elisi and whether she was still alive. There was no sign of the organoid she was paired with, so in all likelihood it was with her, wherever she was. And if that facility was in such disrepair, what had become of the Delta facility where Helen slept?

The answers to these questions would have to wait. Right now, it was key to keep moving and gathering information. With that resolve, Seth returned to the Crimson Sworder, checked it over for any problems, and took off into the sky.

* * *

Raven knew to stay hidden, but only just so. He wanted the meddling fools of the Guardian Force to keep their distance, but he certainly wanted them to figure out for themselves why searching for him would be a bad move indeed.

Since he had made himself known, a low profile would be most prudent, as a lack of sightings would make him more terrifying in the eyes of the Guardian Force leaders. Shadow knew this, that was why he only let Raven take out the occasional scout. But after several weeks they were both getting itchy for a real challenge.

And then, the red blur streaked through the sky, and they knew it was time.

* * *

The sun was setting, and it would be dark soon. But until then, Seth was flying low to keep from being spotted on radar. But in this hilly area, it was hard to predict where a sentry might be posted. Ideally, he would fly nap of the earth, but the possibility of encampments and convoys traveling the valleys was too high. While radar saw everything in the sky, it was impossible to miss a large red zoid cruising fifty meters overhead at transonic speed. And so he flew low, zipping around blind corners and praying no one would camp out in this region.

Unfortunately, the odds were against him. The Crimson Sworder's sensors screamed an alarm shortly before a beam of energy grazed over his starboard wing.


	3. Chapter 3, Hostile

The Crimson Sworder dipped its wings as much as the low altitude would allow. When the beam had dissipated, he snap-rolled and banked right. He then rolled back to get a look at what was shooting at him.

There, preparing for another salvo, was a zoid he had never seen before. It looked like a violet Rev Raptor, but bigger and without the blades. It stood, ready to fire again, and all Seth's training and the blaring alarms in the cockpit told him to take further evasive action.

Indeed, he pushed to full throttle and pulled up, streaking into the sky just as the mysterious zoid fired pulse laser rounds.

Despite feeling that any attempt at making radio contact would be pointless, he opened hailing channels and broadcasted "Cease fire, cease fire! This is a friendly! Cease fire!"

Still, the radar lock warning sounded, and he knew another shot was on the way. Reversing course as another salvo fired, he armed the weapon systems.

Deploying the arm thrusters and cutting the main ones, he rotated the Crimson Sworder to line up the cannons and fired. The target deftly dodged the rounds, but not before the Sworder's recon systems analyzed it. Seth turned, putting the enemy on his left and the sun on his right, and pushed the throttle back up to full burn.

The analysis displayed on screen. The enemy seemed to have a small collection of melee weaponry, a short-range laser gun, a pair of long range pulse lasers, and...

"No..."

The weapon it first fired was a charged-particle beam. This meant part of the abomination he tried to escape had survived. The hibernation plan was all for nothing!

There was nothing for it. The zoid before him had to be destroyed. That weapon was nothing but evil.

The hostile zoid had already demonstrated it could dodge cannon fire, so Seth locked on a pair of missiles and fired them so they would fly to the right as they tracked. Predictably, the enemy moved left, directly into the line of his new burst of cannon fire. The impact caused him to trip up, letting the missiles catch him in the side.

Taking full advantage of the break, Seth flew in close and deployed the arm blades. The enemy dodged a strike to the head and countered by clawing at the Sworder's underbelly. Despite directing all available thrusters down to climb, Seth still heard the sickening screech of metal-on-metal.

When the right arm's controls went stiff, Seth knew the Crimson Sworder didn't want to retreat. He reached the left arm back and jammed the blade into the enemy zoid's shoulder.

Strangely, at this strike the enemy immediately moved to retreat. Seth pushed the thrusters to keep up, but it fired a barrage of laser rounds that made contact and forced Seth to duck behind a hill. When he climbed over the crest, the enemy had disappeared. He soared higher, trying use the radar to find it again, but it had used the hilly region to it's advantage, perhaps finding a cliff to hide under.

Much as Seth was driven to find the hostile zoid again, a handful of system alerts convinced him otherwise. He had to find a safe place to investigate the damage he had incurred.

* * *

"Slate One-Actual pilot's log. Post-awakening, day two, approximately twenty-two hundred hours."

"My recon in the village proved valuable. There seem to be two nations, which could explain the conflict I saw when I awoke. It's clear the nations were at war at some point, but it's not clear if that is still the case. It's difficult to know where I am in terms of national borders, so until I can determine that, I'll avoid discussing the local politics with the natives. ...Feels strange, calling these people 'natives.' They don't remotely feel like the civilization I left when I went under. I'm starting to wonder where they came from.

"I've been flying low to avoid detection until I can determine who to trust. Three hours ago, I encountered a hostile unit with charged-particle capability. After unsuccessfully hailing, I returned fire. I was able to inflict a small amount of damage before the hostile retreated. This behavior defies convention. A scout would have retreated like that, but it wouldn't be that heavily armed, and I would have seen reinforcements by now. My analysis shows it was equipped for offence, not recon, and there are no signs of a military installation it would be guarding. It may have been a rogue unit, and I should keep my eyes peeled for it in the future.

"During the battle, I sustained minor damage to the lower fuselage and the right wing. It's nothing critical, and a few hours should have it in serviceable condition. If I finish in time I'll fly by night to find a better place to hole up temporarily. Until then, I'll need to keep a sharp eye out. There are too many small animals in the area, and Sworder's proximity alarm is going off constantly.

"...That hostile zoid from earlier is bothering me. It's strange that it retreated so easily. And the Sworder's core seemed compelled to destroy it, fighting my attempt to retreat even momentarily to gain altitude. I'll have to scour the data logs once I've found a more secure location. End of log."

* * *

After making the repairs, he took to the night sky, flying high with a light throttle to keep from being heard by anyone on the ground. There was nothing he could do to avoid all radar detection, but by avoiding other radar contacts he could at least minimize the risk.

Now, more than ever, he was grateful for the navigation and reconnaissance systems installed in the Crimson Sworder. By using the terrain-following radar designed for nap-of-the-earth flying, he could search for a usable hiding place. And, because it was the dark of night in the desert and any civilization would be as visible as a spotlight, the thermal imaging system worked perfectly to avoid any potentially curious locals.

Eventually, he struck paydirt. At first glance, the rough shapes on the radar and cold temperatures looked like a bunch of old ruins, which suited him just fine. But once he landed, he found it was actually a recently abandoned and heavily damaged military installation. He saw a hangar that looked structurally sound, with its entrance on the north side, and found it to be a perfect hiding place. He backed the Sworder into it, to hide the still-hot engines from just the kind of thermal imaging he used to find this place, and, because the hangar opened to the north, the Sworder would be kept in shadow all day.

Pulling a scoped rifle and some ammunition from the small arms cache in the Sworder, he made camp. The old control tower was still mostly intact, along with a fair bit of equipment, so he was able to power it up using the Sworder's internal batteries. It took some doing, as he couldn't read the aged and miniscule writing on the equipment. But in the end, a radio is still a radio, and he had it scanning channels in no time. There wasn't much to pick up, this far from civilization, but there was a good chance any scouts passing through would radio home if they had spotted him.

The rest of the facility was already picked clean. Ammunition would have been the first to be scavenged, obviously. It was the first thing he looked for. When that came up dry, he started looking for tools. He was able to repair the Sworder well enough the night before, but that was only light damage and required only simple tools. He was on his own in this new world, and anything he could find could be of help and he dared not pass it up.

Any chance of food or water was nonexistent here, so he knew he couldn't stay long. He would leave at nightfall. Until then, he'd stationed himself in the control tower with his rifle, getting some much-needed rest while listening to the radio scan channels and keeping an open ear for the Sworder's proximity alarm.


End file.
