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Round 4 of Formula Anti-Gravity Racing
Sunday 15th April, 2094
Post-Race
Italian AGP

Strada Alpina
Marmolada, Dolomiti, Italia
1400 CET

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[color=gold][center][h2][i][b]Fast Ten Your Seatbelts[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color]

[b]Soundtrack: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlXjP59jZCM]Hans Zimmer- The Mole[/url]
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The race had come to a close, with the feeling of ecstasy for the pilots, gaining their applause, as were even those further down the grid, and the ships being brought in for inspection. Spectators still in the stands, still watching as craft came into bear, and well, the podium celebrations were going. It was all good fun, but something else was going on down at the bottom of the mountain, right at the base in the tunnel. Something someone wasn't entirely expecting. Out of the tunnel, there were still vehicles on track.

The supercar skated through the circuit, chased by what looked like another one, both skating across the surface of the circuit merely minutes ago raced on, the sight of it very certain. The camera peeled in, watching it all unfold, the two ships slower than a normal AG racing ship, but still, no slouch at all, given they were Southern Cross make-supercars, and being piloted by two very mean drivers.

This was a car chase, with the way one was trying to ram the other, and they were going through corners like a superheated knife in room temperature butter. Not enough to make say, any of the pilots blush, but if they were taking out other people for a ride in a supercar like this on the sections of non-MAG tracking it could race on, then well, they'd be raising a hell of a pulse.

But this didn't look like some excursion on track. One was hunting the other down, fast, and that was confirmed as they came out of the tunnel, the sudden look of a missile roaring out of a hidden compartment on the black one chasing it down, as the defence on the orange supercar in front barely caught it, but immediately leached out all of the power out of the drive with the secondary payload, the driver bailing out as it seemed to just go dead straight. 

Straight towards a cliff-face, and the driver knew better than to sit tight, yanking the door open and diving out, their tactical getup barely stopping them from being shredded on the deactivated MAG stripping as the ship hurtled towards a cliff-face now with a deactivated repulson field, and detonated.

They coughed as they stood up, thrown into the snow from how far they'd slid by the gleaming white and blue cover on the icy lake, the mountain in the background, the race well and truly still a factor here, albeit one that had just passed. Their rifle far away and nothing in her hands bar the gloves of her slick tactical suit, like something Sam Fisher might be found wearing, her hat still on, her fierce look in her eyes giving off the look of someone who wasn't going to give up fighting. She'd earned this, after all, was the expression she gave.

The redhead stepped out of the black car as it came to a half next to her, dressed up in what looked like a tactical getup with an exoskeleton, the other pilot not wanting to run over, but merely coming to a halt, getting out with a gentle hop onto the snowy terrain.
"You never give up, do you! Time to end this!" The redhead yelled, not even going for her advanced carbine-like gauss rifle, but instead, a tactical knife that was basically like a very short shortsword, serrated and all. She had her reasons. Deep seated. This was personal.

With it, scattered on the ice, the redhead charged and the other one, dressed significantly less ready for this fight, yet no less trained. The two clashed as she countered with her own Kukri, bullets or missiles forgotten, but back to what almost looked like a medieval fight. The armoured up redhead looked to be winning, given she had an exoskeleton and could literally hurl the other girl into ice or floor, but the other one seemed to hold her own using an optical cloak to dodge the biggest hits, unarmoured redhead's hat getting knocked off as the more tactical looking one swung her around, revealing her own darkened red hair, a look that revealed her to be near identical to the pursuer that she was next to.

With another move, the other swung her tactical sword and was countered even in site of the force with the other's Kukuri, yet the armoured up redhead throwing the other one into the ice on that counter, a gentle crack audible in the ice as she was pushed hard into it, before drawing it to her throat, pushing her into the floor.

"Nowhere to run, Skye. Got you where I wanted. Give up what's in your brain, or I'll cut through you till I get it." The redhead in armour seemed to be definitely the villain here of the two, even if the victor. Even if identical looking to Skye, on the floor, well and truly screwed and outmatched here.

But, a characteristic grin always came back. 

"Come on Rose, I got you where you wanted too. See you later."

And with it, the sound of what must have been a loud sniper crack whistled, the armoured redhead's body falling limp as the shot rang out, the woman on the floor clambering up, pushing her over, pulling a set of keys off her tactical rig, as well as the rifle, peeling a few mags of ammo.

"I did always say you needed to be more open minded." Skye gave a wry smirk to maybe nobody but the hole-in-head having copy of her on the floor, finishing up, hearing the audio flitter through her nanite-infused earpiece.

"We have more of them, incoming. Get your ass out of there, Queen." The voice was a male one, a concerned tone, as the main protagonist of this story, it seemed, shrugged. Like another day.

"Good. Gotta say, she really has a flair for the dramatic today. Don't know where she gets that from." The reaction was to a faceless audience, her smile growing as she walked across the ice, towards the beckoning supercar.

"CUT!"