I Do Not Own Zoids


Two people stood on the dry dirt outside of a small complex, consisting of a simple, ranch style home and a large shed.

One, a young girl, eight years old, had red hair and violet eyes. She held an oversized rifle to her shoulder, aiming down at a target, a good hundred yards away. Behind her stood a sixty-two year old man, with a walrus-like gray mustache and short cropped hair, his vivid violet eyes were strikingly similar to his younger companions.. He knelt behind the girl, helping her support the weight of the large rifle, and correcting her grip.

"Keep the butt tight against your shoulder," the older man instructed, gently pushing the gun back into the girl's shoulder. "You think it's tight enough?" he asked with a small smile.

The little girl nodded.

The man smiled. "Okay, now before you fire, look down the barrel and through the scope at your target. Before you fire, you have to know what you're aiming at. Chose the spot you want to aim for..."

"I thought I was supposed to hit the bulls-eye?" the little girl questioned, drawing a chuckle from the older man.

"In general yes. But your targets won't always have a convenient target painted on them. You need to learn not to aim for something that isn't there. So try and hit another spot on the target." He paused for a few moments. "Know where your aiming?"


The man smiled. "Now comes the tricky part. You need to control your breathing, and your heat rate. Don't think about the rifle, think of what you're aiming for. When you're ready, take a deep breath, hold, and slowly release as you squeeze the trigger. That's the important part, if you pull, you'll throw your aim off. Remember, take your time, you've got all the time in the world."

They stood for several more moments, until the little girl fired a round, completely missing the the target.

She frowned, as she lowered the gun from her shoulder. "I missed," she said unhappily.

The man chuckled as he stood up, taking the rifle with him. "That's alright Red, this takes practice, you're not going to become skilled after one lesson."

"Grandpa, can I try again?"

The man looked down at her. "Are you sure your shoulder can handle it, this is a pretty powerful rifle?"

Naomi Fluegel nodded, despite the pain in her shoulder. "Yes."

Her grandfather, Killgore Fluegel gave her an accessing look before he smiled and shook his head. "Alright, but only twice more." As he knelt back down he muttered under his breath, "I'm going to have to get you your own rifle."


Naomi sat outside the large shed, crying. The eleven year old looked over at the house disdainfully.

Her mother had come back, after an absence of five months, and wanted to take her away from her grandfather.

She hated her mother, Mina Fluegel would always do this. She'd meet a man, leave Naomi with her grandfather while she lived with him, and when the relationship finally failed, she'd come back, wanting Naomi in her life until the next man showed up, usually a few weeks later.

She didn't understand why she couldn't just stay with her grandfather.

"It's alright Red," the comforting voice of her grandfather said from above her.

She looked up to see the smiling man as he sat down next to the young girl. "Why can't she just leave me here with you?" she asked. "She always brings me back a few weeks later."

Killgore sighed. "Don't judge you're mother too harshly," he said, putting his arm around his granddaughter shoulders. "She's always been a free spirit, and I admit that's partially my fault."

"Why is it your fault?" Naomi asked.

Killgore stood up and walked a few steps to the doors of the shed, pulling out a key, he unlocked the door. Turning back to Naomi, he said, "Come on, I want to show you something."

The young girl stood up and followed her grandfather into the building she had never been allowed in, despite living here for the majority of her life. As her grandfather flipped switches, turning on lights, the first thing she noticed was the large Zoid sitting in the shed. It was colored in shades of gray and black, but she recognized it instantly as a Gunsniper.

"When your mother was still a child, I was a Zoid warrior," her grandfather explained. "I was called the Comet, as I reigned down bullets like comets falling from the sky. Your late grandmother never wanted Mina to travel with me, but she so desperately wanted to. But, Mina stayed here, on the compound, as I traveled the world, participating in Zoid Battles and bringing back souvenirs for her from wherever I went. Unfortunately, she hated it here. The town was a lot smaller then, we didn't have the things to do that we do now. And as soon as she could, your mother left. She only came back when your grandmother died, and when she found herself pregnant with you."

He sighed. "Maybe if Grace and I had allowed her to travel with me, she wouldn't have the wander lust she has now."

The next day, Naomi had left with her mother.


It wasn't until she was fourteen that Naomi realized there was more tension between her grandfather and mother than simple absence. Apparently, every time Mina had come to the compound, it was to ask her father for money, which he would only agree to give her if she spent some time with her daughter.

Walking in on the argument between them when Mina admitted that she had never wanted the "little brat" had been eyeopening.

She never had to go with mother again, and apparently Killgore refused to give Mina any more money.

A few days after Mina left, her grandfather allowed her to pilot the Gunsniper for the first time.

She had never been happier then when Killgore told her, with a large smile on his face, "You're a natural Red," after she hit the eight moving targets he had set up for her.


Sixteen-year old Naomi had tears in her eyes as she looked down at the picture of her and Killgore standing in front of the Gunsniper.

It had been taken only a few days before Killgore had suffered a sudden heart-attack.

He had never made it to the hospital, that had been two weeks ago.

Killgore had left her everything, much to the ire of her mother, whom she had just finished arguing with minutes ago. Mina hadn't been happy when she received nothing from her father's estate, in fact Naomi had been forced to threaten her own mother, though she loathed to admit the fact, with the rifle that Killgore had taught her to shoot so many years ago.

What would she do without him?


Twenty year old Naomi looked through the sights of her Gunsniper, at the the Zoids below her.

Her grandfather's Gunsniper, repainted red, had proven to be a superior Zoid. The modifications her grandfather made had withstood the test of time, and allowed her to follow in his footsteps as a Zoid warrior.

As the Red Comet, a name she took in tribute to the man that taught her everything she knew, that she idolized to this day.

Squeezing the trigger, she made her shot.


Naomi is my favorite Zoids character, so I hope you all enjoyed, I really wish there were more fics of her (especially her and Bit, I like Brad, but I like Bit more). For those that didn't realize, Red was the nickname her Grandfather gave her, because of her red hair.

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