Joel came out of the hauler with a yawn and a stretch of the arms. He had a very specific ritual when it came to race days most of which involved periods of quiet and clearing his mind. He could jump right into practice and even qualifying and post hot laps almost without effort, but the race was different, near sacred. He ate little, napped often and would emerge an hour or so before the lights went out on the starting board. He looked around at the paddock area. It was the same setup they had out at the airport only multiplied seventeen times and neatly arranged in a vivid barrage of colors in front of the Luna Sports Facility. Flags were out over the top of the haulers depicting various teams, countries and manufacturers. Crowds of onlookers moved about pointing, taking photos and enjoying the novelty of the transformation of downtown into a racecourse. Joel stepped down looking over his shoulder. He had to hand it to Tommy; their top flight hauler did blend in nicely with the rest of teams. The man understood the importance of presence.

Friday practice went smoothly. They never pushed the car hard in practice, just a few laps to get familiar with the course again and get their rhythm back. Joel knew it by heart: Every bump, every sign, every shopfront banner or traffic marker that the regular citizens of Sol passed by casually each day. Landmarks he grew up with that he and Tommy used to remind them when to brake, when to be on the accelerator and when they needed to push it. With their time at the airport, they had an advantage of being able to do a little more fine tuning than the other teams who made their way in later in the week and were obliged to wait for the course to open up. The car was as right as he could make it and he’d only made a few minor adjustments since the race with Marinalia. It felt like a streamlined butterfly and Joel was beaming though trying to hide it. He’d already made a few waves.

Saturday qualifying was where he’d really put on a show splitting the time of his arch rivals: the factory backed Nissan GT-R’s and landing their two-plus decade old 300ZX on the outside pole to the shock of many. His lap was the talk of the paddock. Sol City’s tight street course only provided a few brief passing opportunities making qualifying of extreme importance. Last year, with the new engine, they’d still managed to come up through the pack in all three heats, but still finished just short of their two state-of-the-art rivals. Joel’s qualifying run had taken them from a lucky hometown sideshow to a serious contender to win. He knew if he could get around the black GT-R on pole, they’d never catch him.

Walking through the tent he returned a few familiar waves with a small grin. The sound system was pumping one of his favorites and weather was still holding clear. Life was good in these moments. He felt like he was stepping into an exam where he studied thoroughly and was completely confident in his answers. He simched the knot tighter on the top of his racing suit that was tied by the sleeves around his waste as he found Marlin and Tommy chatting. He couldn't remember a time where he'd actually seen a woman wear their team colors and the thought threw up all kinds of flashing banners in his mind that she may actually be different.

"C'mon," He said extending his arm out with a smirk for her to take underhand, "If you want to be on TV."

@PrinceAlexus

Joel's Playlist

[h2

Old Harbour . Sunday early Morning, Race main stands, Pit lane, Lunch time.

---

Marilania watched the preparations from the pit lane, the screens and radios displaying a complex array of times, lines, marks and systems she could barely understand despite being able to fly a 10,000 horse power cargo aircraft. Joking to one of crew about and starting to feel better around the quiet and profeshinal race crew. It felt so much more like flying. Thr one section she did get was the power and brake lines, the split times and ghost laps.

I can fly a Cargo plane, medium lift helicopter and this lot... Is more complicated than that it seems!

The screens and data incoming was more akin to a fighter jet or advanced video game than a race car. Watching the crew do there final checks drinking a coffee, coming down here was definitely the right choice. Pulling on the race team jacket she had borrowed, the wind would be howling through here propelled by thousands of horsepower soon ernough.

Watching out, in thr busy pit lane as the heavy energetic music hammered out constantly, not to her taste but thr team seemed to love it as they prepared the mechanical monster of a race car sat there for its finest hour. Along the row many others where in similar states, engines exposed or covers being bolted down, and tyres warmed up or sat in cradles. Not even the helicopters got this level of care.

Seeing Joel walk down she waves over and saw him in full race suit, half off for heat if anything like a flight suit and surprisingly in a almost gentlemanly way, offered her a arm. The idea of the TV crews after that morning was a a little scary and her grey eyes registered a certain fear before blinking to normal. It was just business, just business. If anything else, her grandfather had long taught her business was just acting with different kinds of money involved.

TV, beauty and the beast? Anyone for the talking candle stick?. London, unique choice of music... I grew up on outskirts, its no Bleniam Palace, or Chatsworth, but its a nice home.

Joking slightly and touching up her makeup in a small portable mirror for TV, if she was going to be live, least she could do was look good. Shaken up or not earlier and hiding from the busy stands, she still had her little bit of pride. Thr metal core, heavy music was there thing, she preferred somthing abit more dancey, and club style than the heavy duty stuff they had hammering out. Taking his arm and smiling slightly, she felt like she was safer down here. They where more intrested in there work than her.

Ready, chins up, smiles on, let the hunger games begin.
The Capital demands it tribute.

Mixing up a few quotes and heading to face the media, her badge dangling visabley round her neck in sponsorship colours, how she managed to get onto the pit lane and marked with a small copy the Olympus heavy industries logo. Everyone had some form of a pass, press, crews, sponsors and fans. Diffrent colours meant diffrent access.

Seeing the camera's and media set up she tightened her grip on Joels arm, old nerves and the days shocks masked by layers of make up and mental walls, but definitely not gone, and still very much thr nervous, and shaken woman from the morning, just hidden by a cool and collected outer shell.

---

Victoria smiled and watched the track as they brought the entertainment and music hammered put on the main stands. From above she could see them readying cars, some being rolled onto the grid and prepared for the race. Multiple brightly coloured and team coloured machines lined up in rows and set start positions. Each one massively expensive and custom made.

Going noticed, but unnoticed as everyone passed by the young pale woman watched quietly as the various business staff managed to do there thing and cards, contacts and such where exchanged. Mostly talking in Russian with Ivan who was more bothered about Victoria than the business leaving that to Vesarian and the Olympus family.

Concerned about Marilania but knowing she needed space, she nervously checked her phone and could head down later if needed. Right now she had to play her part in the "show", everyone knew business was business.

Marla waved and headed off, she had never been a fan of car racing after managing to lose her left leg in a car crash when she was younger. After that the idea of people racing and risking things was not exactly a favorite. After checking on the party, despite all the people working on it, she always made sure things where ready anyway personally. Maybe time allowed go for a jog, the mayor had asked someone head out and pass on a invitation at some building, and she could always make it into a route.

see you later, you know me and racing, never quite freinds.


Heading off leaving her older sister Maria, Maxamillion, Mike, Milo her husband and thr Romus party to there race. 5'6 and tallest of the three M's as some names Marla, Maria and Marilania. Long blonde hair wirh ice blue highlights and matching eye colour was fairly striking. A gold and platinum bracelet engraved with a serris of dates, Wedding, anaversey and her young sons birthday had always dangled off her wrist for years. A diamond ring and gold band on other side. Left leg replaced including the knee with a modern powered replacement, the servos where far more comfortable than the clunky versions she had before and much less obvious meaning she could run, walk and pass for a person with a real leg long as you not look too close.

Maria waved her off, seeming to look to Vesarian. Everyone seemed to wonder when they would finally act on the hints. Unknown to her there was a bet that they would finaly at the gala and most family where in on it. Shorter than her sister, 5'4 and golden blonde with almost gold eyes. More athletic and a former swimmer in her youth, the similarity with her daughter was quite evident and did not pass unnoticed.

Vesarian sighed internally, he hated the business side much more happy at the helm of a ship than shaking hands n pleasentrys. Victoria was fine, though his older daughter had his mind concerned. Finding out about the assult had greatly enraged him. Thr amount of snakes in the city, its shining facade hid a rotten core as bad as worst ports he visited. A overly long glance at Maria, a returned smile. The two had gone a along way in the past decades, he had gone from a feckless father who abdonned her, to a while different man after Victoria had come along. Ivan had taken her as a 2nd daughter, at least he knew his rather bulky life long freind would keep her perfectly safe this weekend whatever happened.

The Gala had gone through a dozen security revisions and upgrades over past few weeks hearing of gangs of bikers, people drugging women and trashing events with impunity. Not on there watch, not this time.

---

Finding time before she had to be at the Gala, the various staff she needed to meet with would not be ready for a few hours Marla grabbed a small backpack, changing into shorts and a light fitted top. throwing a zipped track jacket with Olympus Heavy Industries logo mixed with the medical symbol. A trained Trauma Surgeon she was head of the onsite small hospital. Being a industrial shipyard it was dangerous and risks high, the Hospital was not cheap but many lives and limbs had been saved by direct and decisive medical intervention.

Heading out, most her artificial leg visable, but what was the point hiding it, she had tried when she was younger but pretending it never existed was futile. might as well be honest about it and just ignore the comments.



Heading over at a steady pace that the servo's allowed, still experimental the tech was not entirely refined or capable as a fully organic limb yet. Arriving at the building, Sol City Rescue Squad, and looking about knocking on the office window inside the glass doors. With a crisp British accent, shouting up not wanting to invade too far inside.

Hey, anyone about?

Mayor asked me to deliver something over, your. Organisation got invited over to one of the main parties this evening tied to race. Im from one of the race team sponsors representatives, Dr Marla, Olympus, Olympus Heavy Engineering.

Free to come up? or someone headed down?

Pulling backpack off shoulders and drinking from a water bottle as well as digging out a few letters and invites in neat hand written envelopes. Stood in the entrance she looked round, obviously more of a work building, garages, upper levels must be something to do with staff and storage.

Greeting a woman, older who headed out a side way, somewhat stern, and in work gear, Marla in shorts and track top with light jacket. somewhat displaying her somewhat more top heavy figure. Her glinting bracelet ever present bar when she needed for medical reasons, though she had taken off the cut diamond necklace, currently locked in her hotel safe. Handing over the tickets and info, why could it not be a guy, would of been easier to sell... Ice blue eyes looking round, she made a quick estimate the woman was fairly straight up and not hung up on pleasantries.

Hello, Dr Marla Olympus, your team got invited to the Gala at City hall as i said, im from the sponsor company, Mayor seemed wanted them delivered by hand for some reason. everything in the pack, tickets, times, dress codes and the security notes etc.

---

@Pilatus

---

"'53. Mr. Heston.' Hmph, another famous figure."

Kriss glanced at the eight downward clues that related to the answer. Only a few were filled in. One of them was 'Gold,' courtesy of Allison, who was not present. The wall-mounted clock indicated that she was expected to be here by noon, as she would be on call during the race. Snap wasn't in either. She had left immediately after the meeting, either to take care of something at home or to dodge Kriss. Both were likely, and he wouldn't put it past her to avoid confrontation so early in the morning. It was probably for the best. The decision had put him in a foul mood, and time alone in the lounge to cool off was best for him at the moment. Unfortunately, he still had not finished the puzzle from two weeks ago. A fresh one was sitting on the table, taunting him, but he preferred to finish what he started. Even if it involved famous figures he had never heard of.

So Allison was an official member. Easy enough for other people, who hadn't even met her and just wanted to get out of work. Kriss couldn't bring himself to nail down exactly why he disliked the new member. It wasn't uncommon to vote in new people early on. He had been elected into the squad in the same manner. She was qualified. She was professional on call. She had potential to be a perfectly capable medic. So what was it? Surely it couldn't be as petty as her personality just irritating him, could it? He wouldn't stoop to that level, to disliking someone just because they were different, would he? She was clumsy. Untrained. Unprepared to take this on full-time. She'd probably goof up and make a severe mistake, causing serious damage to life or property.

Because no one makes mistakes, right?

Now he was annoyed with himself. He tossed the puzzle to the table and went to take a shower. Hopefully the water would wash away his attitude. As he left the room, he heard a rumble from outside. The rumble soon escalated in a roar that reverberated all the way through the building, echoing off the walls and causing him to wince. Whatever was outside, it was making enough noise to penetrate the cinder block walls and steel door. He considered going outside to see what it was, but almost immediately the sound died out. He didn't hear anyone screaming for help or banging on the door. Kriss shrugged and headed off to the shower.

A half hour later, he was ready to handle meeting Allison as a fellow member of the squad. Maybe. Oh well. Ultimately uneasy about the whole thing, he toweled off and clothed himself in civilian clothes, which composed of jeans, a blank tee, and a bland zip-up jacket with a single breast pocket. He opened the door and found himself facing Allison, who was on her way to the women's dorm, toting a large backpack of clothes and toiletries. She stopped in her tracks, then turned swiftly and saluted him for whatever reason.

"Hello, Sol City Volunteer Rescue Squad...volunteer! It is I, also a volunteer!"

"Congratulations on that."

"You don't sound sincere, Kriss."

"I know."

"You're so mean," she called over her shoulder as she entered the other dorm. She didn't sound irritated or upset. It was just a casual observation. Unable to think of a proper response, he shrugged again and headed down to the front desk, where he encountered Snap, who was busy cleaning out the papers on the desk. She noticed Kriss and turned her chair to face him, crossing her arms and legs.

"Good morning, Kriss. How are you this morning?"

"I am fine."

"Have you met the new squad member?"

"Yes."

"You're going to be working directly with her. I hope you don't have a problem with that."

It was an innocent enough statement, but Kriss couldn't help but notice a slight hint of malice in her voice that suggested she wasn't interested in a negative response.

"I don't-"

The conversation was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, followed by a crisp call for attention. Snap turned her head, then heaved herself out of the chair to go answer the door. Kriss remained poised by the door, unsure of whether the discussion had ended or not. It most likely had, though he felt a little odd about leaving in the middle of responding to his CO. Snap shoved the door open and, seeing an actual visitor, stepped outside to greet them. She had never seen the woman before. Given her Olympus Heavy Industries jacket, radiant jewelry, and openly visible prosthetic leg, Snap would have remembered the meeting. The CO was only vaguely familiar with OHI, but apparently they were on the cutting edge of robotic prosthetic appendages. The lady radiated authority despite her casual clothes and large backpack, which she hastily unslung.

"Hello, Dr Marla Olympus, your team got invited to the Gala at City hall as i said, im from the sponsor company, Mayor seemed wanted them delivered by hand for some reason. everything in the pack, tickets, times, dress codes and the security notes etc."

Snap averted her gaze from the woman to the parcel and accepted it, reading the label for herself.

"I wasn't aware we were on the mailing list." She returned eye contact and examined the woman. Doctor Olympus? The name was familiar, but this was her first actual interaction with someone from the family, especially a doctor. "Familiar" was the wrong word, though, consider the name was plastered all over the news.

"Thank you. Have a nice day," she said, waving politely and turned to go back inside. Snap was a woman of few words.

The sound of boots treading along the concrete floor indicated the return of Allison, who was also in casual clothes, composed of ragged jeans and a large grey sweater over a black V-neck shirt with her high school logo stamped on the front. She skipped up to the edge of the office door and paused, trying to hear the voice through the front door. Whoever it was, she sounded very fancy, though it was probably the crisp British accent. The metal door opened again and Snap stepped through, holding a large ornate envelope with elegant handwriting on the back.

"Looks like we got something from the mayor himself," she said, weighing it in her hands and reading the inscription. She pulled a utility knife from her back pocket and opened it carefully, dumping the contents onto the table. The envelope had contained a letter, a flier, and two large cardstock tickets, one of which she held up and examined closely.

"FULL CLEARANCE - EMERGENCY PERSONNEL"

---

It was another day out, and it was going to be a eventful day at the very least. One particular firefighter was at Old Harbor, amethyst eyes watching the hustle and bustle as people were making excited chatter. Fully clothed in her firefighter gear, Ashton had insisted that she return to her work duties, despite some hesitation from the Chief. Still he allowed it but put her on duty with some others to watch over the festivities. In case of any fire or anything of that sort. Always possible with races anyways.

Of course, Ashton stood out with her towering figure, wearing her bright yellow uniform. Although the hefty coat was wrapped around her hip, leaving her bare arms crossed over chest victim to the cold morning air. Wearing a white t-shirt, suspenders neatly strapped to her shoulders while wearing her yellow helmet upon her head. Back leaning against the fire truck, the blonde perked up a bit as a loud groan was heard from her right. Turning to see who it was, she saw Marine wearing basically the same outfit. Looking a bit bored out of her mind.

"Guh! It's waaaay too early for this! And I want to go party and meet some cute guys for the love of..." Marine yawned a little before the red head turned her blue eyes onto the giant who made her look like a midget.

"How about you Ash? You meet anyone cute during your lost wanderings in the middle of the night at that Winter Ball thing?" she questioned, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Ashton just gave a smile and shrugged in response, earning another grown from the young woman.

Sure Ashton met quite a few interesting people, cute girls, a interesting man. But she was fairly certain there wasn't anyone Marine would be too interested in at least.

Sunday Lunch time, SCVRS building

---

Marla nodded and handed over the package to Stern looking woman, rather sharp and defenitely sparing with her words. She defenitely had to be a manager or some kind of leader. Handing over the package and the letter, the Mayor had asked a favour as they had come to a deal over the use of part of city hall, thr large 2 story Hall was a hard one to book and sometimes you had to give and take to get it.

Thanks. Special delivery, I'm not a fan of racing anyway. Mayor's a charceter to say the least . See you at the party, hopefully you have a boring night if only professionally.

The ending was abrupt but anyone who worked with her would likely say the same, even in her own earshot. Everyone knew she was a bit of a bitch at times but she was also a impeccabley skilled surgoen and saved several lives on site, warming the "Ice Princess" to quite a few people. Building ships was dangerous and there where 1000 ways to be hurt or killed. Current investments in robotics and other systems had reduced some of the most dangerous jobs, the company. OHI had not built her leg, a sub contractor, Mars Robotics who worked as part of there defense contract had offered the prototype, in part a test deal between the two that had grown into supplying advanced welding and manipulation robotics. Still did not stop them charging 500 pounds a battery set, 250 to replace the foot grips and a eye watering sum when the central processing chip had failed.

Waving her off and heading out, she found a bench seeing the blinking app on her phone warning her as she sat down and quickly slid a Panel and swapped the battery. Despite each one being 500 pounds a peice. They soon drained for ly fast especially when jogging and she always kept a spare handy. At least the new Frigate hull contract her father had gained would keep the company in the black for a few years at least. Maybe longer if they could get in on building and maintenance contracts down the line.

Putting business thoughts aside, she gave one look back at the fairly spartan building, it certainly did not look the most welcoming of places to live. Heading on a roundabout route back to city hall and to check on things before she had to get ready for the evening, make sure her young son was OK with the child minders for the night. For a weekend of "sports and entertainment" she always reminded that someone had to make sure it went off smoothly.

Her Husband, Brother and Father had all somehow.. Perfectly angled a afternoon of racing and beers, even the iceberg of Vesarian was joining in, when would he and her sister finaly relise... They could build a 10,000 ton ship faster than ship was launched.

---

@Mattchstick

---

"Full clearance, you say?" Allison asked, sliding past Kriss into the office to read the letter.

"To the brave men and women of the Sol City Volunteer Rescue Squad: I humble request your presence at the Sol City Grand Prix this very Saturday. As you take on the great responsibility of saving the lives of the citizens of my city, I ask that you extend your services to the race track. You are granted full clearance to the party, including the track and backstage areas. I hope you will stay afterwards for the festivities as well. For the sake of organization, please hang the tickets from the rearview mirrors of your rescue vehicle or vehicles. You will be allowed to park wherever is most convenient. Of course, as medics, you already have full clearance!

Yours sincerely,..."

Allison gasped. "He signed it himself!" She flipped the envelope over as though she was expecting something to be written on the back, then flipped it back to the front to read the letter again. Kriss picked up the flier.

"Times, dress code, and notes concerning security."

"Wow, so we're going to the race? That's pretty cool," Allison said to no one in particular. Both of them looked up at Snap, who nodded briefly.

"I figured we'd have to be on hand. Wasn't expecting it to be so official, though. We'll take one of the ambulances and park near the entrance in case we have to go on call. If it's a quiet night, you can do whatever you want as long as you stay on the radio."

"Who will be at the squad?" Kriss asked. He had a sinking feeling that he was being roped into this.

"I'll call one of the paramedics and see if they want to come in. I know a couple that have been invited to parties they'd rather avoid."

"I'll stay here."

"No, you're with me. I want a paramedic on hand."

"So ask one of the other paramedics to go," Kriss responded. He was starting to become irritated again. Parties did not interest him. He would much rather stay at the squad on his own and enjoy the quiet than waste the evening at a gala. Snap caught onto his attitude.

"No. You're with me," she said more deliberately, looking him in the eye. She had been pushing her weight around more than usual, but in the end there really wasn't anything Kriss could do about it. "We'll bring an ambulance. One of you can drive. The other can ride with me in my car."

"Your car is not a rescue vehicle."

"I'm not bringing my car as a rescue vehicle. I'm bringing it as a show piece."

Kriss blinked a few times. The late-model Jetta she drove to the squad was in good condition but was certainly not fit to display among race cars. Snap motioned for the two of them to follow her outside. She shoved the door open and pointed a finger at her parking space, which was now occupied by a much different car. It was thick and wide, with a slim chrome bumper that matched the hubcaps. They stood out against the two wide white racing stripes down the hood that accented the bright orange body. Any car enthusiast could tell in a heartbeat that they were looking at an absolutely gorgeous '69 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, one of the finest muscle cars ever produced. The raised hood made room for a rock-solid 350 small block V8 engine that had, like the rest of the car, been lovingly refurbished and hand-polished. It almost looked like a toy. A very expensive toy.

"Kriss, this is Jennie," Snap said, pointing to the [JENNIE] vanity license plate. "Say hi."

"Um. Hello."

"Jennie was my Dad's best friend. Found her in someone's backyard left to rot and paid good money to take it off their hands. Paid a lot more money to get her back in shape, but I think it was worth the investment in the end. He couldn't make it to the race today, but he would want me to bring her along, even if it is just to watch."

Kriss was surprised, and not just at the massive car sitting in front of the building. Snap sounded like a different person talking about the vehicle. Admittedly he really didn't know anything about her personal life. Apparently it involved old cars. He turned to see Allison bouncing on her toes. She looked positively overjoyed.

"Snap brought me here in it. Her. The car. She's going to park near the track, open the hood, and let people come look at it. At her. It's gonna be fun."

"I think I will drive the ambulance," he replied decidedly, turning to head back inside to change his clothes. There were some things he would never understand, and one of them was the obsession over cars, particularly old ones. Snap glanced back at him, then turned to Allison, tossing the keys to herself with a thin smile.

"Go get changed. And remind him not to forget his ticket."

Fourty-five minutes later (Allison decided to take a shower), the bay doors opened and the ambulance pulled out onto the front parking lot. Kriss held down the brake pedal and watched the other two climb into the car. There was a pause, a quiet hum as the engine turned over, and a familiar roar as the V8 came to life again. Snap tapped the accelerator a few times for effect, causing Allison to cover her ears and Kriss to sigh to himself. If Snap planned on impressing him, she was going to have to try something else. Unfortunately for him, Snap really didn't care what he thought and decided to just enjoy herself. She reversed and cut hard, then accelerated into drive and sped into the merge lane, leaving a thin layer of rubber on the pavement. Unamused, Kriss released the brake and followed her at a safe driving distance. She appeared to be in some kind of hurry and he couldn't help but wonder if the car featured air bags, auto-lock seat belts, crumple zones, or any other sort of safety for the driver. He doubted it did. Hopefully the three of them wouldn't be driving away in the ambulance.

---

---

Milo was panting hard, sweat was dripping and his leg felt like giving out, but he kept his ground, across from him was a man covered head to toe in padded armor, a large sword hoisted over his head, it had been years since the last time he had been in this position, the heat of his armor and the weight of the blade in his hand, these were the days he had missed, so much of his life had died when he left home though here he was finally starting to feel like himself again. Milo took a deep breath as the man approached, he held fast to the sword in his own hand, turned on his heel and as the man stepped in to strike at his head, Milo deflected and struck across the mans back, the whistle blew and the match was over, Milo had lost a lot of mobility, but it was evident none the less why he had won so many tournaments.

"Wow man, I haven't seen swordplay like that other than the movies." the young opponent removed his helmet and held out his hand to Milo to congratulate him. "Really, I am stoked you came out, when you called I swear I thought it was so cool that you wanted to come practice with us, I mean I saw you fight a few years back in delta, man that was awesome."

Milo nodded, the kids enthusiasm was not as contagious as he would have hoped, though the guy was nice enough but he was ten years younger than Milo and had not been beaten within an inch of his life yet. "Just nice to know I can still get some practice in." Milo was putting away his gear while the guy kept talking, the boy was a chatterbox, and he always spoke way to loud. Milo felt bad for the kid only because the only time he wasn't talking was the moments after being struck, only giving Milo the incentive to hit him more. Milo had found a Hema group that was happy to have him train with them, they were able to use one of the rooms at the local gym. Milo left the ring and went to actually put in some exercise time, barbell, leg work, a full work out with a focus on leg mobility.

Milo left the gym and took out his cell phone, he had tried to call Vika after everything that had happened, but he didn't get a response, if she wasn't going to let him explain, he just wouldn't, with how she reacted and the huge gash she dug into Paige's car, Milo was a bit concerned about what it was she was wanting. Milo had no messages or calls however, today was some big race that she had mentioned, like hell he was just going to go without so much as a hello in days. Milo was about to put away his phone when it rang, it was Jackie, great, this was what he was waiting for, a chance to clean up the mess he left himself in.

"Hey buddy, how you been Milo?" The grease was almost oozing from the phone as the man talked.

"Was great, how do you plan to fix it?" Milo tried to keep his tone even and as normal as ever. the last thing Milo wanted was to have him catch on that he was up to something.

"Well you see, here is the long and skinny of it, I need a new handgun, that one you made me before, my employers were so happy with it, that they feel like they need a second, you know the one, the big one." Jackie didn't know that Milo had the first one now, he was trying to play it like he still had it. "I know you said you wouldn't do it anymore, but come on, I know you need the cash."

"Jackie, I don't really need the cash, and you know that it's illegal and I don't want to do it anymore." Same song and dance they always play, but this time it should have a different end.

"Come on, what if I sweeten the pot?" Jackie said with a strong inflection, Milo hadn't heard him try to bargain like this, what could he offer him that he would take? "So look, I know you have been real sore about it, but my employers, they really like your work, they want you on full time Milo, no joke, work with me on this and you can get some real perks, they aren't just offering cash or dope here. You need a rival shop shut down? Done. Pesky ex? Done. Trouble with the authorities? ...Done." Milo was shocked, was he serious? Paying off a debt was one thing, but working for them, what did Jackie think he meant when he said he wanted nothing more to do with this. "What do you say buddy? Show the big wigs that you got the chops."

Milo wasn't happy about it, but this was the plan, he had to go along with it. "I do this, and you're saying that your 'employers' are gonna back me up mafia style?"

"Day of my daughters wedding and all my friend." Jackie retorted, honestly this wasn't a bad deal on the surface, and Milo might have taken it a month ago, but times are different.

"Alright, swing by and we will talk over the design, five pm yeah?" Milo told him as he tried to sound defeated, even though this was the goal all along.

"That's my boy. Five sharp, make sure you're there, and hopefully not bleeding." the man laughed as the two hung up.

Milo scrolled through his contacts, he got to Paige's name and gave he a call, she need to know what was going on, and that he had set the time, she didn't have a ton of time to prepare so hopefully she wasn't too busy, but if she didn't show, he may end up with either a bigger problem or a body.

@Pilatus@PrinceAlexus

The helicopter mounted camera panned over the assembled grid as the race commentators prepared to come back from commercial. Onlookers and teammates bustled around the cars as grid girls held up signs noting each car’s position, driver names and nationalities. Midday sunlight glinted off the polished exteriors of a variety of colors. The starting grid lineup appeared on screen along with car make and tire choice. Nissan, Lexus, Porsche, Dodge, Honda, Chevrolet, Jaguar… the list went on and was as varied as the driver nationalities.

And we’re back, taking a look at your starting grid today... The commentator went on to mention the sponsorship covering the starting lineup and pre-race summary. No surprise seeing a black GT-R on pole, He continued as the frame faded away, But if you’re just joining us, what’s become the story of the weekend is that red, white and blue 300ZX sitting there in P2.

That’s right, Steve, A second commentator chimed in as the camera zoomed out and continued to pan over the downtown area for a broad shot all the way out to the edge of Old Harbor. The waterfront was crowded with boat traffic and the assembled grandstands were packed out with spectators all along the waterfront section of the course. Other spectators could be seen leaning out from the balconies of hotel rooms. If you were watching yesterday, we really thought the Nismo GT-R’s would have the pole firmly in their grasp until the hometown favorite, Joel Nicolosi put down this absolutely blistering lap… The live shot of the racecourse transitioned into a highlight reel of Joel’s qualifying lap. The multicolored 300ZX blasted round a curve bumping along the uneven city streets in a flash of red, blue and exhaust flame. An overhead following shot and then another stationery camera tracked the car’s pass through the time traps, Watch him here through the follow-through… absolutely textbook, The car blasted down a long hill as boat masts and then the harbor docks rose up into the shot as the car slowed and negotiated a chicane, And through the first harbor chicane, he was actually fastest through this bit out of the tunnel, definitely impressive.

Only off the pole by a few hundredths, The first announcer came back as the shot changed once again with Joel’s lap finishing and the time being displayed next to the logo of an expensive watch company. As it happens, our crews have caught up with Joel out on the grid for a few moments to chat before the lights go out, The camera again changed to a live shoulder-mount following a reporter as he wound his way through the crowds out to the starting grid. He stepped past the dark, angular GT-R on pole to where a model-esque female stood in front of the 300 holding a sign reading P2 Nicolosi / Lomax with an American flag underneath. Joel stood with his racing suit fully zipped and a pair of sunglasses leaning against the car. He still had Marlin’s arm tucked under his and turned his head with a smirk as the reporter approached. Absolute dynamite lap yesterday Joel, how are you feeling about starting from the outside pole today?

“Well, naturally we would have preferred to have had pole,” Joel said with a shrug and his most diplomatic smile, “But we’re in a good spot for today, I’m feeling good about our chances.”

“You and Tommy Lomax are surrounded with a black GT-R in P1 and P3 and Honda is definitely looking strong with the NSX in P4,” The reporter continued, “Only a few tenths separate you. What’s going to be your strategy going into turn one?”

Joel shook his head and pretended to consider the man’s question seriously. His real plan was to take the inside line and pass the GT-R on the first turn, same as Senna had done with Prost in Suzuka, but hopefully with a different result. “We’re just gonna try and have a safe start, obviously we want to get in there and be competitive. The GT-R is strong up the hill, but I think we’ll be in there.”

“Joel, we’ve all noticed you’ve got some new sponsorship badges on the car this year, do you think that’s helped elevate you to the front of the pack?”

Joel looked back at Marlin with a genuine smile the camera could only barely see as he turned his head. She was blending in perfectly in her jacket and jeans. He gave her a playful elbow as the camera looked on and turned his head back, “It hasn’t hurt.” He said.

@PrinceAlexus

[h2

Old Harbour . Sunday early Morning, Race main stands, Pit lane, Lunch time.

---

Marilania smiled in the pit lane as tv cameras rolledand the cars behind them where eased into there spots and various mechanics busiest selves with last minutes pre race checks, tightening tyres, minor tweaks and wiping down screens and there paintwork, every last gram of dirt was a minute fraction of a second off the line.

Smiling, laughing and playing along with the TV, it was easy. Let Joel take the lead, she was there, he had the spotlight. He was the star. She knew what to do but this was one first ever times on live TV and Joel was probbly feeling thr grip pressure on his arm. Not too hard but defenitely more than when thr cameras where off. Calm. It's only a few seconds, it's a small segment, I'm not the big pressure here. Telling herself that, though theory never taught you the real thing. Joel certainly.. Was this the same man?

Pacing her timing, vintage aviators hiding the fear and reflecting in the sunlight, her grey fearful eyes hidden behind the glass. Breathing a second and doing as her grandfather had tried to teach her, her British accent live across Sol city and beyond, deliberately clear in BBC type language and accent.

we are definitely happy, new car, new engines, and new sponsors this year. Pole, podium and we got the whole set. Of course we could not be here without everyone on the team.

Hopefully everyone has a safe race, and you join us for our podium interview.

Smiling and ending the interview with a carefully worded sign off, whispering to Joel as the camera panned back to the pit lane and mass of people, stars, teams, journalists and drivers.

Are you the twin brother?

That's downright terrifying...now I know why my grandfather hates TV spots. Hopefully that went well...

And. Goodluck,


Checking carefully the camera was facing elsewhere, there was a background camera spanning the pit lane and a few other news crews but there's was distracted by covering the general hubbub a second. The kiss on the cheek was timed carefully as the camera panned away.

Watching the timer tick down on the big board above, soon they would be getting drivers strapped in, tyres on and last minute checks before the warm up laps could begin. Pit lane view defenitely was alot more fun than the stands. Seeing to slot in perfectly she caught a passing bottle from one of the water sponours giving out bottles hoping to get caught on TV and quenched her thirst that had built up from her nerves in the previous minute or two.

Her family definitely would of seem her, she had not let them down, and embarrassed them yet! At least down where she felt like their was a escape from the people and Bob's cowardly and disgusting crimes who had cut deeper than she wanted to admit to herself.

---

Victoria shouted over as she saw Marilania come onto the big track side billboards delivering a pitch perfect speech to the cameras and managing to present a publicity freindly speech flawlessly.

[i][color=6ecff6]Malins on TV! And nailing it[/color[/i]

Laughing slightly, she knew about her and Joel, sure they seemed to from sounds of it one up the other more than talk yet this time, this time they where playing to cameras perfectly, polite, professional, and ernough pretty to keep the media intrested but not look like some hired model. This was one moment she was never gonna let her forget, And was recording later.

Watching as the grid got busier and more cars where ready to race a pang came across her stomach of guilt and other emotions, Vesarian and Maria where trying to subtlety hold hands, only they where about as subtle as a pair of teanagers to everyone else. A thought she could not shake just would not go until she saw a hint of blue paint still stuck in the ring mount. Giving it a blow. The feeling returned with intrest.

At this rate she would be propping up the bar downing vodka with Ivan, whose young family was not yet up to the trek here this weekend both making best of it. Gah, she had to call him.. At least to apologise.

Il be back in a few minutes, got to make a call...

Be n back before warm up lap

Climbing carefully and making her way through busy people, it had been easier with Ivan the bulldozer for sure. Making her way to a back stair leaning against a concrete support and failed Milos mobile leaving a voice mail as the race had somewhat clogged up the local cell phone infrastructure. Nervous and intermittent sound of engines being tested and booming cheers that resulted getting caught in thr call.

Hey.. Umm its Victoria. Swaharma queen of Sol.

I'm sorry, I ran off, I was angry. They where pretty, and normal... And why would you stick with me when you had them.... They can dance, and not break stuff just getting a morning coffee and just... Walk without almost falling over.

I'm about as much of a mess on inside as I am out.. Yeah... So here's rambling me... You can stop listening now omif you never want to see me again. My issues have issues...

Just... Just message me, call, or Garla starts at 7.30 ish, city hall if you wanna talk human to broken human. I'm gonna be pretty busy before then, I'm free after the start. our tables are near the main stage, talk, maybe enjoy a evening if you not already marked me as a crazy ex.

Oh, and I may have... Slightly scraped a BMW... Like minorly

And if you listioned to me ramble this far. Well, you obviously got time on your hands. Gotta go, race is about to start and I can,t get though crowds easily and up these steep exit stairs very fast. See you maybe.

Byeeerr

Sighing, that message was a total ramble, and utterly rediculous but she had just admitted her side she never showed many people. Beneath layers of armour, compartmented away thoughts. The real Victoria was alot more of a mess than the icey outer Lady de Winter.

Making her way back to the stands she sat back down after making way up stairs and past people. Leaning a head slightly confused about what she had Just done and if she had scuttled the ship or not and leant against her dad's arm. At least that was one thing that did not change and she could rely on being solid.

one of those Don,t ask momment Vika?

Пожалуйста, просто .. ПАПА (Please just .. Dad)

Всегда, Вика, бизнес может подождать еще один день (Always, Vika, business can wait another day)


Sliding into Russian, she did not notice the looks as thr sudden foreign language swap, Vesarian giving Maria a duty calls look, resting a arm on his daughters shoulders. 2,12 or 22. Some things where universal.

---

@Pilatus@RoccanIronclad

---

Paige Kennedy

After SCPD arrived to take away Bob it was well after 3am before Paige made it back to her apartment. Coming down from the adrenaline and completely exhausted she scantly had enough energy to change into her bedclothes and collapse into the sheets. She was asleep when she hit the pillow and before long was happily dreaming about Hawaiian beaches, a certain private investigator by the name of Thomas Magnum and red Ferraris. “Damnit Higgins, go away,” She grumbled in her sleep, “Can’t you even knock… we’re busy.” She sighed winsomely. Snoozing away blissfully she had no concept of anything going on outside and continued to sleep through the morning in spite of the raucous noise going on outside. She and Magnum were on the verge of solving another big case when an unusual sound began to permeate through her dream, something foreign, unnatural. As the sound got louder, her scene faded away in a flash and suddenly her eyelids were creeping open looking at her dim nightstand from underneath the pillow seeing her phone vibrating and continuing on with its dream-ending melody. She lay still watching it momentarily while her sleep-drunk mind began cursing a violent string of obscenities at forgetting to turn off the alarm. No, it wasn’t the alarm, it was a call.

What the T-total fucking hell…

She reached her arm slowly out to grab the device, but still being half asleep, clumsily knocked over a framed picture and a lamp that also occupied the nightstand. The phone fumbled over the side as well and everything hit the carpeted floor with a dull thud. Becoming more annoyed, she reached for the wall and found the charging cable and began hauling the still ringing phone aboard the bed like an anchor. When it was finally in hand she rolled back over with a huff to the warm spot and looked to see who had first made her shit list for the day. Of course… She thought and rolled her eyes. The screen simply read: Milo – slide to answer. Seeing light flickering around the edges of her heavy curtains she looked at the time before swiping her finger over the screen. Her drowsy eyes stared crossly at the call screen hoping he could somehow feel them on the other side of the line. Her mouth was dry and the words came out gruffly, “What is it?” She groaned.

@RoccanIronclad

---

---

"What is it?" Paige grumbled into the phone as the connection came through, she sounded like she had just rolled out of bed after a short binge.

"Time to rise and shine princess, doll yourself up, we have a date with the mafia. Five pm Paige, you gonna be functional?" Milo knew that would get her riled up enough to get moving if for nothing less to give him shit, so as soon as he was done talking he hung up immediately and started to laugh his ass off as he got out into the cold. Milo looked up at the sky as he through his diamonds letter jacket on to the dismay of the many opposing fans. Milo got into his car and started to drive off, he let his mind run as he moved along the streets, there was a time when this kind of relationship between him and Paige was normal, the two of them always taking jabs when they could and always trying to one up one another, Ana usually drew the line, but she isn't here this time.

As Milo reached his shop he pulled up his phone, someone had called him while he had been driving and he didn't look. One missed call - Vika, Milo sighed, four days, he had expected more from her, he thought she would have came back and talked to him or at least answered him, but as he listened to the message, he couldn't help but shake his head, who even was she? When the two had met, she was fierce and strong despite the odds stacked against her, she seemed willing to take on anything, but now she is showing that she can't even handle seeing him with an old friend, he had known Paige for years, far longer than he knew Vika, Milo could tell from this message she was already counting on him leaving her, and he would be lying if he hadn't thought the same, he hated being ghosted, four weeks or four days, all of it stung him deep, but right now, he was feeling driven, and not willing to let it slow him, he would talk to her about all this, but not today, there was a lot still to do.

Milo texted her his reply, he wasn't ready to talk it through, "Vika, I am not counting you as a crazy ex, I am going to talk with you about this, but not today, I have buisness to take care of today, but I want you to know, ignoring me for days... not how I want this to be. I will talk to you later, we will sort it out. -Milo"

@Pilatus@PrinceAlexus

Joel Nicolosi

A Navy P-8 flew over the downtown waterfront flanked by an F-18 on each wing as the national anthem came to a close and the assembled crowd let up a giant roar of approval. Joel watched behind his sunglasses as the trio banked away and the Hornets split off with a surge of afterburner. The grid was suddenly bustling again as all non-essential personnel were busily clearing out for the last minute preparations. He turned and threw a leg over into the cockpit giving Tommy an affirmative fist bump.

“See you in about thirty laps,” Tommy said against the noise. “Don’t be late.”

“Don’t worry.” Joel replied with a smirk. He set about buckling himself in and as the masses cleared he could see the track out in front of him with only the rear of the black GT-R in his view. With its aggressive rear wing and wind-tunnel refined aerodynamics it looked like something out of Star Wars rather than a racecar. He was already visualizing it. If at all possible, he had to get ahead before the first turn. If he couldn’t get a pass in there, where the road was four lanes wide, he likely wouldn’t get another shot until they made it down the hill at Old Harbor and the longer it took him, the harder it would get. He could match them in the turns, but the long uphill straightaway would allow them a chance to flex their advantage in downforce. The barriers that enclosed the streets curled away gradually uphill towards Southside where the first long straight would take them. He stared through it momentarily, contemplating the moment that was soon to come.

Looking back, he gave Marlin a wink before slipping on his helmet: A combination of Sol City Orange and the American flag stretched around in a style he modeled directly after his racing idol, Ayrton Senna’s, famous Yellow and Brazilian flag. The grid lights were flashing in preparation for the formation lap as the last of the crews left the grid.

Alright, and now for those most famous words in racing… A voice suddenly boomed over the local PA system. The mayor could be seen taking to a podium on the many trackside mounted video screens. He seemed more at ease than he’d been in some time and he made the proclamation with a hearty tone: Gentleman, start your engines!

The sounds went off like a wave of technological thunder. The angry hornet V8 coming to life in the GT-R and 300ZX, high revving shout of the tuned NSX, the big-block thunder of heavy pistons in a Corvette and Viper. Exhaust and the smell of refined fuel filled the air with the international chorus of engine power. Joel tuned his radio to the team frequency and checked in with Lou and his dad who were watching from the top of the hauler with their own set of screens and active telemetry reporting back from car’s onboard computer.

The television camera panned back out from the helicopter as the commentators came back on watching the cars take off for the parade lap. The starting lineup flashed along the side of the screen again with team names, car types and photos of the drivers. Let’s take a look at some of the strategies involved today, One of the commentators started, Of course Sol City is the last race of the Formula GT season and can either be one of the most technical for a team or one of the simplest depending on your position… The screen flashed over various statistics on tires, average speed, fuel management and other highlighted factors from the race’s history, the second commentator chimed in again, That’s right by rule drivers have to switch places at least twice within the ninety-nine laps, and we know they’ll have to refuel at least once, however, tires have historically been the main factor in Sol, being a street circuit it’s very tough on the softer compounds, The televised image switched over to various shots of the cars weaving back and forth, warming up their tires for on the parade lap as they wound through the city streets, Its going to be a balancing act, He continued, A team can run the harder compounds and only change once, but you obviously have to stop twice anyway for the driver change, but changing tires twice takes time, the pit lane can make or break your day here. The cars passed through the chicanes at Old Harbor before the shot again went back out to the helicopter. Alright ladies and gents, we’re going to commercial one more brief time, then it’ll be grid set and lights out, stay with us, we’ll be right back…

@PrinceAlexus

[h2

Old Harbour . Sunday early Morning, Race main stands, Pit lane, Lunch time.

---

Marilania watched as the screens and crews gave people there cues to leave the track zones and head into the pit lanes as final preparations and tyre jackets where being pulled off. Helmets locked and windscreens given a last wipe down before the start. Watching Joel strap into the 5 point racing harness and lock the helmet down, everything was so much similar to a aircraft, except the whole wheels staying on the ground part. Giving a last wave before heading through thr concrete barrier wall built into a L shape, overlapping walls preventing cars and debries from entering the paddock and visa versa. Somewhat nervous and definitely not over the mornings events, part for herself, part for her family and part concern watching cars doing 200mph or close two feet from solid concrete barrier walls. It was exciting, but a very unforgiving race track.

With a last glance back and wave as she vanished behind the concrete, blonde hair bouncing out the way a fraction a second later, There was a reason her deadalus call sign has been set as "Valkyrie", one she had held for several years. Stopping by a passing complementery coffee cart, ordering a White Choclate mocha, extra shot, vanilla, cream and mini marshemmlows topped with some Choclate sprinkles

The coffee came quickly, it was somthing that was utterly unhealthy yes, but it was a feel good drink and she needed somthing to perk her up. If that did not wake anyone up, they probbly would be a zombie.

Heading up to the team hauler and climbing up the steps, waving cheerfully to the crew belowz through thr glass windows seeing the array of cars lined up and ready to race. Putting her coffee down and donning headphones easily like everyone else was for the engine noise to come, well practiced from a career as a pilot. Sunglasses reflecting as she saw the cars shine in the midday sunlight, polished and preened to perfection by There crews.

With a softer accent than before although very definitely English but more freindly than a crisp BBC english she had used during the live spot, ecrntuating her pronunciation to be clearly undstood across the global broadcast.

Hey guys, the crews told me to come up, and watch from here, the views definitely better than below.

Oh, better introduce myself, properly, I'm Marilania Romus Olympus, Tommy should know what my tail elevator looks like, I'm Maxamillions Granddaughter. Well more than that, Tommy can vouch for my flying skills.

Smiling and Sipping her coffee, watching the mayor and jumping slightly as the engines fired up across the grid and the entire Pitt Lane shook as her floating island of cream and marshmallows atop her coffee bounced slightly atop the coffee and sugary sea.

Woah, this is certainly ringside...

Watching as the cars roared off, the entire Pitt Lane shaking as tens of thousands of horsepower lept from the line and the entire field began, each one weaving back and forth in S motions, slowly building up temperature, the high performance tyres only gripped properly was they where ready.

Soon thr last car vanished from view and she watched the screens and live broadcasts, going on about tyres, track plans, and stratagy. The graphs and half thr advanced race telemetry was majorly out of her understanding. She knew how the radios worksed, that she could work. The rest bar track and time system was Greek for all she knew.

The roar of crowds was muted slightly by the glass and headphones, the engines however had been deafening close. Tuning her headphones to mostly concentrate on the public broadcast a second. She hered catter of positions, race stratagy and the tyres.... Though Joels skill behind the wheel was certainly going to matter more than if they chose a soft or a hard tyre.

So all that means exactly?

Much as her pride hated them admit, Joel had beat her fair and square in the race, and certainly could give her a run for her money. Maybe in a unlimited air racer she might be able to turn the tables.

---

Victoria watched the race from above seeing the people head back to pits, cars stood as crews dragged blaxk bags off wheels and unplugged power supplies, dozens of people where on the move to the pit lanes. Seeing long blonde hair bouncing from afar into the pit lane. Was the Marilania, the woman was waking a team jacket... Maybe. She had one at the interview.. It had to be her.

Her phone buzzing and not realising a second as the Mayor's voice booked out and dozens of engines roared to life on the grid. Green lights blinked and changed, red lights vanishing and then the grid jumped forward on and began to aggressively turn, vere and move. As the last car round ded the practice lap she checked seeing "Milo, x? " flash up on her phones unread tasks.

Reading the message her stomach contracted slightly, yes she had ghosted him and probbly hurt him, she felt slightly guilty at the whole events. Putting this one right was going to be difficult. Leaning over to Maria and tactfully nudging her.

Hey... Maria... How badly I fucked this one up...

Taking the phone and giving a concerned look before furrow img her brow thinking. Maria had her fair share of problems, managed to be a young parent, lose a fiance, Boromir, he had been a fighter combative marital arts, swordsmanship... Kind, strong, things had been great. Until the awful news came, killed by some thug with a sword, probbly just after a damned wallet. Turning her thoughts back, Vesarian, Victoria, well if she admitted it... Kind of a daughter... If she loved him... Then that would make her... No, not yet. Things where only just breaking the horizon, not yet high noon.

OK... So good thing he seems to be willing to talk bad, defenitely hurt him, balence it... Your in wrong, but he was drinking with some ex type... Difficult.

Il leave this one to you ladies...

Thanks... Thought so Maria, sure messed this one up... It was going well till little miss damned deathstar was about...

Sighing and typing a reply, she had a car to pick up next week. A major upside of the big job was ernough to fund a deposit and upfront payments on a 2014 mini convertible. Red with white stripes, auto folding top, cute little city car. Not everyone believed she could drive, long as not too far, Victoria could manage a smaller car. Marilania Discovery was tons too heavy... A mini, alot safer for her and the rest of the world.

Typing fairly quickly, she knew what to put, lest she forget it.

Stay safe Milo, let me know when, I've got to collect a car Tuesday afternoon, and rehab wensday morning. Anything else, I'm free to talk.

I want to fix this.
VR X

Hitting send before she doubted herself and turning back as cars began to weave back into the far distence ready for the races real start. They had to line up again and the first cars would already be losing grip even during the brief pause. The commentery and people about seemed full of facts, figures. Hard, no stop, 2 stop, driver swaps, fuel, light end runs and all manner of technical and strategic terms.

The rumble in distence told that the soon the main pack would be ready to race, and then the real racing began. Atleast her sister seemed to be making the day of it and having fun. The whole close to track, it was loud ernough up here. Yet alone down by the pit lane.

Soon the race would begin.

---

@Pilatus@RoccanIronclad

---

The vehicles rolled into the parking lot, which was rapidly filling. Three spaces near the front of the building were taped off. A Star of Life had been posted beside them, indicating they were reserved for emergency personnel. Apparently the mayor, or whoever was in charge of parking, was expecting three vehicles. Allison jumped out and removed the tape as Snap pulled a u-turn and backed in at a 45-degree angle. She had decided to put the extra space to good use by covering two spots at once so that her car faced away from the stands at an angle that made the front end impossible to miss. Kriss pulled past her and backed into the third spot. He killed the engine as Snap eased herself out of her car. She was wearing jeans and at some point had taken off her squad shirt to reveal a white Chevrolet bowtie t-shirt. She was also wearing, of all things, a pair of steel-frame black aviator sunglasses. She handed a second identical pair to Allison, who was also wearing a white t-shirt (minus the logo). He shook his head, eyes aimed at the ceiling. People and cars.

Snap walked casually to the front of her car, raised the hood, and locked it open using a metal rod. The 350 was on full display for anyone on their feet who hadn't yet entered the stands. She leaned against the bright orange body and crossed her arms. She didn't care how it looked, or if anyone cared. This was her day in the sun and she was going to enjoy it. Allison copied her on the other side, smiling brightly. Despite the difference in skin tone, age, and height (Allison was still wearing trail boots that added an inch to her height), they made a good pair, with Snap answering questions and Allison just looking nice. After a bit, Snap looked at Allison and jerked a thumb in the direction of the ambulance.

"Tell him to hang the ticket from the rearview mirror and get out here," she said, dropping the hood and opening the driver's door to retrieve her squad shirt and badge. Allison nodded, trotting over the ambulance and knocking on the door. Kriss had already seen the signal and climbed down.

"Come on! We're heading up to the stands! And hang the ticket from the rearview so they know we're supposed to be here!" she said excitedly, as though the massive ambulance didn't already indicate what it was used for. He noticed that Snap had hung the second one from the Camaro, which was, as he had mentioned earlier, not a rescue vehicle. He was about to protest when, to his total surprise, Snap removed two large Star of Life magnetic decals from the back seat. They were at least a foot and a half in diameter. She applied one to the outside of her door and tossed the other to Allison, who attached it to the passenger door and opened it to retrieve her own squad shirt. The two slammed the doors closed and grinned mischievously at Kriss. He joined Snap and frowned in disappointment.

"What, you've never seen a non-transport EMS vehicle before?"

"Putting stickers on a race car does not make it an EMS vehicle."

"It's a rapid response vehicle. It has a first aid kit and everything in the trunk."

"A rapid response vehicle has to be registered."

"Here," she said, reaching into her car one last time to retrieve a third pair of aviators. She handed them to Kriss. "Put them on and stop harassing me."

Kriss's protests were interrupted by a loudspeaker.

"Alright, and now for those most famous words in racing. Gentlemen, start your engines!"

Snap glanced at her companions.

"You two should cover your e-"

Snap's voice was drowned out almost immediately by the deafening roar of every car on the track starting up at once. Kriss and Allison both clamped their hands over their ears, wincing as the sound reverberated over the parking lot and filled the air. Wordlessly, they followed their CO to the stands, taking a position around the middle, closer to the top than the bottom. The cars pulled out onto the track as the parade lap began. Kriss removed his hands, realizing that he had dropped the sunglasses given to him. He looked around. They were probably out by the car. He considered getting up to fetch them, then reconsidered. If he left them there, he wouldn't have to wear them. It was dishonest to pretend as though he couldn't find them, but Snap was being dishonest by pretending her Z/28 was an EMS vehicle. That made it okay, right? He turned to look at her and found her hand a few inches from his face, holding the sunglasses she had been wearing. She was on to him.

Irked, he accepted the sunglasses and, without a sound, put them on. Snap nodded in approval.

"You look sharp, kid."

"Thanks."

Run! Run, Alexis ! Duck !
A battlefield around Alexis, bullets flying and a bomb just gone off somewhere near the Humvee. Those words were the only things that made sense. A shout from the right and Killer, her team-leader, was down on the ground. A pool of blood was slowly forming from somewhere beneath his body.
Pain ran through Alexis's body and she fell, a hand ran towards her holster only to find that the pistol is no longer there. Soon, a black shade appears above her and the blackness.

---

Alexis wakes up in a blur, drenched in sweat and breathing rapidly. The alarm starts ringing soon after, as it does every morning right after she wakes up from her nightmare. She rises from her bed, still groggy and she goes to take a shower.
Naked, Alexis looks herself in the mirror. Two bullet scars, one near her collar bone and one in the stomach, a miracle she survived but that's what determination does to a person.
She was just exiting the bathroom when her phone made a beep sound. Checking it up, it was a text stating :

4000$ were transferred into your account, as promised. Sorry about your team, mole inside, information leak. Will contact you again if I find anything else.

" Blah, no shit, you SOB. Information leak. " yelled Alexis apparently at no one at all. Shaking her head, she quickly dressed herself and went to open the door to allow the morning trainees in.

Soon the training began as everyone gathered and were ready to train. Alexis scanned the fighters are they spar with each other and occasionally yelled observations at each of them.
" C'mon, Gonzalez! Keep your bloody hands up and your head held low ! " her language was known fact and most fighters knew to let it go.



Everyone was panting and was all sweaty at the end of the training. It was past 11:30 AM already and she had only a few hours left to spare before the second shift would come.
Alexis, with a hard look on her face, yelled at the fighters a farewell and a word of warning as they left.

" Fight outside the gym for the sake of fighting and I'll break all of your bones ! .

Paige Kennedy

Paige stared blankly at the phone screen for a moment after Milo hung-up. She hated being called Princess and he knew it. Asshole. She grumbled to herself. Tossing the phone aside, she contemplated going back to sleep, but decided against it. Her father had preached that morning back in Delta and after using the Bible to tune up poor Bob, she thought maybe listening to his sermon as she got ready to meet Milo might help balance out that bit of irreverence. Normally, she preferred to use the phone book, especially if it had the yellow pages included where she could roll it and bend it in her hands and really get a good swing in, however those were getting more and more rare in the digital age. She downloaded his sermon and let it play as she showered and dried her hair out. It was nice to hear his voice again. She could picture the congregation, the PowerPoint slides behind him and where she and Ana would sit, sometimes with Milo as well.

She had only began making a name for herself in Delta when he pulled her aside one day to talk. It was mostly congratulatory and encouraging as he was many times. She was no doubt her mother’s child. However, it was what he said last that day that never really faded from her conscious and she was sure that was how he meant it. Daddy had a certain, cutting way with words: Paige, I know you’re often faced with situations where you don’t have a lot of time to think, I just want you to remember whose voice it is in your head that you’re listening to. He had left it at that and walked away with his usual smile.

The thought of it gave her a slight chill as she put on her clothes and the sermon finished with a hymn. He was the only true moral anchor in her life and perhaps Ana and her mother as well to some extent. Now they were out of the picture and she was stuck in Sol with Milo of all people. She shook her head at the thought and tied her hair back in her standard pony tail as she started out the door with the keys to the BMW. With that silly street racing going on, she would need the lights on Xi’s remaining Ford to cut through the traffic and get down to Milo’s shop or at least to the general area where she could walk the rest of the way and not tip-off their dinner date. After exchanging keys with him, she set off.

Finding a parking garage a few blocks up, she left the car to walk. She packed her badge and holster away in a small book-bag so as not to draw unneeded attention and kept her pistol hidden in its usual, secondary spot. She looked at her reflection in the side of the glass. With a royal-blue, button-down long sleeve t-shirt, jeans and her bag she thought she looked rather studious for the first time in several years. The shirt had subtle orange stitching and a very discreet UF logo near the hem that she intended to annoy Milo with and simultaneously draw an underestimation from whatever manner of street thug with which Milo had managed to get involved. A two-for-one. She smiled slyly at the thought and sent him a text letting him know she’d be there shortly. Since she was coming in from the back alley to stay hidden, she was sure he’d have some smartass remark for that as well.

@RoccanIronclad

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Milo had taken some of his blades and moved them from arms reach of where he believed Jackie would eventually stand, he got out one of his projects, something to work on to pass the time and calm his nerves, the sounds of the trade were soothing to him. The blade in his hand was a standard fighter, but it was decorated with fine engraving, something that Milo had gotten quite a bit of notoriety for in the past, he wondered what he would even do with these, the material he uses to make them don't cost him much and he does the work himself, eventually they start to pile up, probably another for the online store or something, but he liked this one, something about it made him smile a bit. He wondered for a minute what it would take to convince Paige to carry a knife on her, he had tried before to get her to do so, but she always made some not bringing a knife to a gunfight retort and scoffing about his knives in general, never hurt to try again though, every little bit helps you know. Milo chuckled as he lit a cigar and went back to work.

The rapping on his back door brought him from his meticulous cleaning of the now sheathed blade. He stood and set the cigar he had been slowly teasing at and got up with the knife in hand and moved to the door, he looked out his back window and saw Paige standing there, strangely she set him at ease a bit, despite all the teasing and fighting, when things hit the fan he always felt that they had each others backs when it counted.

He opened the door and grinned, "A little old to be selling girl scout cookies aren't we?" before turning to the side and letting her in with wave of his hand that was clutching the knife, his actually house section of the building was still nice and clean, the fairly modern with a touch of rustic flair with his hand made art and tools. "Come on in, I have something for you."

@Pilatus

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Ashton stretched out, listening the rumbling of cars while her eyes looked at screens of the large tvs as well as listening to the portable radio listing information about the race. It would seem the race was about to start. They had a decent view, though not too great since the team wasn't really required to be up near the front lines or anything. The tall fire fighter's amethyst gaze was curiously looking over the crowd, before turning her gaze toward Marine who gave a groan and gripped her hands on the taller woman's sleeves.

"Uuuuuuugh Ash! This is so unfair! Save yourself!" the red head groaned dramatically draping a arm over her forehead.

Tilting her head, the dirty blonde gave a questioning look. Eyes blinking rapidly in confusion, causing Marine to roll her eyes and standing up straight with her hands on her hips.

"How about you go get a better view? We'll call if we need you alright? Plus since you're such a big lug, it'll be easier for you to push through the crowd. Plus, everyone loves their favorite Firefighter eh?" Marine chuckled as she playfully punched the taller woman's arm.

Ashton blinked a little more before giving a bright smile, amethyst eyes glittering with some excitement. Rapidly nodding, the blonde raised her left hand and curled her three middle fingers while holding her thumb and pinky out. Holding it up to her ear like a telephone as she took off her helmet and set it inside the firetruck before heading off toward the stands. Tightening her firefighter jacket around her waist as she moved through the crowd. Wandering through the crowd, Ashton's long legs carried her easily as she made it to the stands to get a better view of the race. Perhaps Marine always liked spoiling the giant a little by giving her chances of fun like this. Maybe she just still wanted the blonde to take it a little easy since she sort of came back on the job a little early.

Still, Ashton didn't mind! She loved her job and she just wanted to be sure everyone else was alright. As she moved through the stands, bowing a little apologetically to those she had to pass whom were already seated. She saw a empty seat besides a short woman who was as pretty as fresh morning snow. The towering figure raised her left hand, gingerly scratching her cheek shyly before giving a bright smile and clapping her hands together to get the girl's attention. Once getting it, Ashton would wave her hand in greeting before tilting her head questioningly and pointing at herself then to the free seat next to the girl.

Joel Nicolosi

Joel nosed the car up to the line just as the brake lights went out on the GT-R to his left. Everything was in order and the mechanics of every second seemed to gradually slow down as the rest of the field filed in behind them. Inside his helmet, his world was closed off and sacred; each breath, waiting and warm against the padding. Hands gripped the wheel. In his gut he could feel the turn of the cams in the rhythm of the machine beneath him. The car itself seemed to be counting down with him. His blood pulsed under the restraints and his eyes watched as the red lights came up across the gantry. Five across, one blinked away, now four. It was no different than when raced back in high school at the streetlights. Another out, three...Revs up ready to launch. Don't spin the tires. Two... Ready on the clutch. One...

As the final pair of lights dropped away, Joel felt like a bullet out of a rifle. The soft rubber bit hard and almost in an instant they were soaring up the hill, the white lines of the streets zipping and curling beneath them like an electric dance floor. The black GT-R held fast in the main line. Joel had neither gained nor lost ground against him. They weren't the top team for no reason. He could see white letters of the tires blurring into rings under the fenders with a puff of exhaust flame. The first turn came up and he could hear his dad over the radio calling the inside line open. He geared down and tucked in behind the black of the state-of-the art Nissan so close he could see the shadow of the rear wing over his hood. With a turn of the wheel he followed through the tight surface street section.

Hard right and then left. Gear and brake, fingers worked the paddle shifters. The chassis shuddered against the hard streets that were never designed for motorsport. A barrier would come up and then flash away close enough that Joel could see the spectators faces. A waving flag, a shouting fist in the air, an ambulance and a safety marshal in bright green- all in their own soundless world against rise and fall of his engine's angry howl. A hairpin turn down a one-way street between two skyscrapers and a double apex right hander and they were headed downhill for the tunnel. Joel caught a glimpse of Old Harbor and the dark water of the river, full up with boat traffic, all the way over to Riverside as they ripped around the curve.

The downhill tunnel came up and Joel squinted preparing his eyes. The changeover from broad daylight to the dim tunnel at high speed was an adjustment that had to be compensated for each lap. Then the return to sunlight when they erupted onto the waterfront was just as bad. There was a period of temporary blindness before the first chicane at the bottom of the hill. He hung back slightly, not because he was concerned about a collision, but because he was setting up a pass on the second chicane.

The GT-R braked on time and took the turns swiftly. Joel went hard on the brakes late and nearly cut the chicane, almost glancing the wall. He came rocketing off the corner and headed towards the back of the black Nissan like a heat-seeking missile. The clever Japnese driver was ready for him though and blocked down into the inside line before Joel could get his nose in the corner. They both took the turn awkwardly allowing the rest of the field to catch up. Joel cursed. He knew he was faster through the harbor. They screamed down a long left-hander as the course narrowed again right on the waterfront. Sailboat masts blinked by like fenceposts. Two more quick turns and they were back on the front straightaway headed back up the hill. Lap one down.

Tommy watched the screens with Marlin gritting his teeth as Joel nearly straight-shot the chicane and tried to pass at the Harbor while Lou barked at him over the radio not to cook the brakes on the first lap. He looked out over the starting line as they came by with most everyone holding the same position. The GT-R in front was stretching its lead slightly on the long straight. No wrecks on the start was good, but Joel had to get ahead before the first pit stop for their strategy to work. He shook his head slightly and grimaced at Marlin. "Tense isn't it!" He shouted over the noise. He loved the competition and the excitement rivaled even his NFL days.

@Mattchstick@PrinceAlexus

Old Harbour . Sunday early Morning, Race main stands, Pit lane, Lunch time.

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Marilania watched the lights from the truck and saw them slowly blink down and begin ready for thr final light, The time ticked down and things became quieter. Everything was waiting baited on the final light to go out and sudden surge of thousands of horsepower to erupt from the start lines. From the Pit late she could see them close up, almost feel the throb of the many engines. They where maybe a few metres from the wall, even those in VIP seats would not ever get closer to the action than this.

Thinking to herself, she was beginning to see why Joel loved to do what he did, somewhat Suprised and shaking her head at thought of understanding Joel was a totally alien idea. Though a little thought came, it was kinda like flying, for a short time, you had complete freedom, total control of thousands of horsepower and defying gravity.

Soon the main pack had roared past the bend and out of view, the TV screen showed a blue of brightly coloured cars, weaving, evading and speeding mere feet from solid concrete. Not quite understanding the stratagy, she sipped her coffee quietly watching the line and screens showing the entire race. Weaving, diving close to thr barriers to pass, she saw the car Joel was driving was right on the tail of the rival Nissan. She could see there teams trailor was firther down the paddock and inside the crews looked as stressed as Tommy and Lou up top. Everyone knew the stakes and they where right now high as it got.

Thoughts distracted away from the TV screen as Tommy called over. Tense was not the word, it was like the entire world had paused and was looking in on this one event. This one race, in a bright city in America.

Sipping on her rather sweet coffee, a rather long list of ticks and so, her call sign on the side of the cup, Valkyrie, long blonde hair, flying, it had stuck and was at least complementary. Shouting slightly over the noise of thr face cars.

Tense is a word to describe it! I can see why you do it though! You'll have to work to convince me flying is more fun... Il have to take you guys up one day.

You need a helicopter style system. Or did Joel spend it all on loud music and speakers?

Laughing slightly and feeling the rumble of engine noise and vibrations as a car raced past the pit lanes at full pelt, engines roaring and propelling there drives at speeds that would only get faster as the race went on.

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Victoria sat in the main stands and watched the line of cars wait on the lings, projected on thr big screen TV screens. Every one counting down slowly to thr momment the engines roared below and the race began properly. A few people cheered from the stands loudly and called out there favorite teams as everyone waited tensely as the final light flicked off. Down below the cars took off and everything shook from cheers and cars powerful engines. In mere seconds they had hammered down the straight and raced past into the forst bends tracked all the way by rapids excited commentry and live feed cameras from multiple helicopters, camera crews and crane mounted cameras.

As the noise began to clear and a she turned to Ivan seeing the 6'6 Russian laughing with Milo and the guys downing a few beers and seeming to make most of the afternoon.

Пойдите легко, наименее пусть они думают, что они могут победить!
(Go easy, least let them think they can win!)

For a family that was close, they rarely ever had chance to gather together, between work, travel and more. Everyone made most of these rare moments. Not noticing the tall firefighter at first and taking a second to swap languages, going from harsher Russian accent to a softer well pronounced English.

О, привет, что свободные места, кто-то ушел рано.
(Oh hello, that seats free, someone left early. )

Sorry,... Duel language problems!

That's seats free, you can have it. They had to leave early

Giving the woman a smile, in a fire service jacket and short messy blonde hair stop a heavily scarred face. Victoria was unsure why my she had not asked and used a gestural languages, the board, there probbly was a long and not so nice reason behind it. Realising she might be asking after her health, she was a first responder and Victoria hardly looked healthy. Giving her a embarrassed smile and a slightly sad tone to end, with a slight gesture to walking stick leaning next to her seat.

please Don't call a ambulance, I'm not in danger or anything like that. I just... Me...

The extremely tall woman seemed to have a kind face, and seem genuinely just wanting to enjoy a afternoon of high speed thrills, as the cards boomed round for another lap of the tight circuit. A flash of red white and blue chasing black hammered down the straights headed for the tight city curves. That had to be Joel, maybe she would get to meet him at the party afterwards and finaly see who her sisters mystery attaction was.

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From his view point the mayor watched the race unfold below and cars stormed down the main straight, the cities home driver was doing well to which always bode well for things. The race had been ferumtuosly timed and all its coverage was going to blot out much of the news about this Bob.

This was the image he wanted for Sol City, a thriving and lively city, not one known for its criminals and dramatic arrest. With the Internet, any story could soon be seen in dozens of nations. It was better those shoe you in a good light. Though Bob's capture had been welcome. There still was many other issues in Sol City, and he doubted this would be the last time a US Marshall or other federal agent took down another serious criminal.

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@Pilatus@Silver Fox@Mattchstick@Ashevelendar

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