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Sunday April 18th, 2094, 13:00
Marmolada, Italy
Italian AGP
By all rights - and Alistair’s recommendation - Bea should’ve been taking an experienced racer like Cassie sitting behind her more seriously than she was. The Zygon ship was only marginally worse where it mattered on this track and every corner they’d spend fighting would be playing right into the frontrunners’ hands, but race drivers moved in the direction they looked, so she let Cassie be Cassie and looked to the ship directly ahead.

Well, it was a nice thought, shame it only lasted about twenty seconds before the frontrunners started building a notable gap. And then Cassie… well, was Cassie and before long Paul was the ship behind her.
”Gap?” Bea asked.
”Point oh-two-six.” Alistair replied immediately.
”Gap ahead, you muppet.” She snarked with a hint of a smile.
”Right,“ He chuckled, ”Point eight-six-six”
A deep sigh in response. Maybe she had big eyes before the race.

Or maybe she’d get another chance.

”Yellow yellow, sector one. I think that’s gonna be a safety ship.”
”Who and where?”
”Astrid and Han, past the jump.”
”Shite, no barriers there. How does it look?”
”Tumbled off the track, but there’s debris. Astrid is out and walking… The woman looks on a mission.”
”And Hyeon-Ae?”
”Definitely moving… And out.”
”Good, good. Alright, back to work.”

And then Layla and Amy walked away from her the second time. Paul also tried it again at the restart, but the temperatures being what they were meant she could push the engine as hard as she wanted to without worrying about overheating. ’Not today, mate.’ She thought with a grin, continuing to focus on hitting her marks to minimise time loss in corners, sneaking the occasional envy-filled glance back at Paul’s rock-solid ship and leaving the Belgian in her wake on the straights only for that dance to repeat corner after corner, lap after lap. But Bea was content with Alistair’s calm voice reporting the gap behind more or less the same every lap, even though the gap ahead wasn’t changing either, but in P6 in a ship like theirs, not falling back was still a win and before she knew it, 45 minutes came and went and the chequered flag flew.
”That’s P6 for you and P8 for Ava, fantastic drive today.” Behind Alistari’s voice, she could hear the cheers from the garage.
”Oh, you’re still awake there?“ Bea laughed, ” Top job to you as well, mate. Where did Cassie go?”
”P11. Want the whole roster?”
”The nerve of that woman.” Bea grinned inside her fishbowl, ”To fumble that bad and make this race feel boring.”
”Look who’s getting cocky? Maybe she hasn’t settled into her new team yet.” Alistair offered with a chuckle.
”True. Not everyone can be as welcoming as you merry band.”
”Our driver takes us to expensive restaurants when we exceed expectations in races, we have good reason to be.” He chuckled.
”All according to plan. I’m wrapping all of you around my fingers.” She joined in on the fun, slowing down and letting Paul pass to line up side-by-side with Ava, giving her teammate a few excited fist pumps and a thumbs up.


DELTΔ HYPER
Episode Four: Azzuro Alpina



"Bea, an outstanding result today! It seems like you managed to put down some impressive bankers- and are putting Carrera firmly into the midfield. How do you feel that this projects for the rest of the season?"

”I don’t know. Someone smarter does the thinking, I’m just the stick-and-throttle linkage.” Bea shrugged with a mischievous grin, ”Not sure about me putting the team into the midfield either, admittedly I’m not great at math but eight was just one point short of half of 18 last I checked.
On a more serious note about going forward, we’ll be hitting tracks that require different ship characteristics soon so we will have to adjust in time if we want to keep this going, but since León hasn’t put a foot wrong since I’ve been with the team and the engineers have likewise been doing an incredible job turning us around, I have no reason to doubt either.
But as you said, today was an outstanding result.”
Bea nodded agreement at Aurora’s opening statement of the question, ”I told you the whole team will have a reason to celebrate here.” She finished her segment with a smile.

Ava was smiling before the mid season and both Condors did well in Italy. Let it never be said she wasn’t a woman of her word.


Monday April 19th, 2094
Marmolada, Italy
Chalet Vites Mountain Hotel
A fortunate combination of León being busy with something, a very good finish and the team’s off-track pace since the start of the season led to a free day for the whole away team as the usual debriefing was held remotely, with Suárez taking point in the team principal’s absence.

”Everyone on the engineering team is delighted with Sunday’s performance. Integrating the upgrades into the ship hasn’t always been smooth sailing, but we’ve made it work and you and everyone on the ground delivered.” Ronaldo started after the usual good-mornings and other pleasantries, both pilots addressed looking at least a little bit smug. ”Unfortunately, the pace of upgrades as well as the intensive work on developing the Alicorn engine is unsustainable…”
Over at the factory at that very moment…

“I am this close to laying down and never getting back up again.” Jesus, one of the propulsion engineers, collapsed onto the break room’s sofa before the door could even close behind him.
“It did it again?” Naomi, his colleague on loan from Pridwen Solutions, asked in an exasperated tone, the first “it” a well-known boogie man in the factory by now.
“Fucker did it again.” Jesus replied to a round of groans.
“Is it too soon for another asado? When Alonso is found again?” Rosario, an Argentinian machinist, spoke up from the vending machines.
“Yeah, we can roast the food on the damn engine. Grill quick, before the fucking thing melts.” Jesus grumbled.
Back in the meeting

”...and therefore, after discussing this with León and Alejandra, the factory gets the rest of the week off. León and Juan are going to be out for a few more days as well, so given the time lost, the specific characteristics of the track, the marketing exposure of it and the need to give the engineers a rest, León, Flávia and I have decided to focus on the Lunar AGP at the cost of Portugal. So, if you have anything that needs to be settled with anyone at the factory you have until two in the afternoon, Argentina Standard, to do it.
Flávia will call both of you on Thursday with details about the promotion we discussed last week. Ava, since you have been to the Moon before, we’ll see you on Monday. Beatrix, we’ll need you to come in on the weekend so we can start you on the gravity sim.”
He finished the important part of the truncated debrief before moving onto some housekeeping.

With the meeting concluded, Bea logged off the remote app and started noting down reminders and buying tickets when she heard snickering behind her, turning around to see Eva in the doorway. ”No weekend for you, you’re learning to walk!”
”Still get to go to the Moon and get paid for it.” Bea shrugged in response.


11:20 JEN LOWRY [Battery: 89%]

———— Saturday - 27/09/2092 ————
> Did I hear right, your qualifying time got deleted because your GPS transponder wasn’t working?
> Yeah. In a single-ship session.
> It’s not even in the MEL for crying out loud.
> We also said that in the protest.
> They need to get Argyris out of the stewards’ room, this is embarrassing.
———— Sunday - 12/10/2092 ————
> Did you fall asleep on the start or wot? Good recovery though.
> No, I confused your hair for the start lights and thought we were still red.
> I can set you up if you ever want to replace those blonde highlights you’ve been wearing since you were 15.
> Hey, not everyone can pull off your hair.
> And at least the screamsheets can’t date my photos by my hairdo.
[“Jen Lowry” reacted with 😆]
> Touché.
———— Wednesday - 15/10/2092 ————
> Heard someone landed a main series seat? Congratulations! You can add that to the list of things you’ve beaten me at.
> Hah, thanks! Mam actually cried when I told ‘er. Shoot, I almost did.
> I’d say “understandable”.
> Hard to even describe it.
> You still waiting on word?
> Valkyrie is no-go, but plenty more fish.
———— Sunday - 09/11/2092 ————
> Mind explaining what you were doing in turn 10 on lap 21?
> Yeah, sorry about that. The photosensor on my helmet failed and for safety it turns the visor transparent.
> There’s a “but” coming
> Safety my left foot, I was driving T9 to T14 half by memory because I saw nothing but glare until I had time to adjust it manually on the striaght. I had no idea you were there until the proximity alert.
———— Wednesday - 10/12/2092 ————
> Just read about MMR. Still waiting on Condor, right?
> Nope. They pulled the plug yesterday.
> Sorry to hear.
> So what’s next?
> Don’t know. Thought to drown my sorrows, but wiser heads overruled that.
> I’ll sleep on it.
———— Friday - 17/07/2093 ————
> What’s this paddock talk about a reshuffle at Carrera?
> Not under an NDA, that’s what! You weren’t joking about it being hard to describe.
> Not how I wanted it to happen and already getting hatemail, but something, something, gift horse’s mouth!
> Nice! See you at the back of the pack.
> See you there.
> Maybe feel a bit bad that you got in on talent alone and still ended up in a worse team.
> Maybe you age like wine?
[You reacted with 😆]
———— Sunday - 21/03/2094 ————
> That hit must’ve been big, how are you holding up?
[You reacted with ❤️]
> Cleared on neurals and physicals, just cybernetics left. Thanks for asking.
[“Jen Lowry” reacted with: 👍]
———— Yesterday - 15:18 ————
> Hey. Didn’t catch you after the race, think I was too busy picking up my jaw off the ground after seeing a Fitzroy AG ship in P13. Beautiful drive yesterday, glad you weren’t bringing this game to races back in the Junior league.
> And on behalf of the Jamie Hart Headache Club: Welcome.
[“Jen Lowry” reacted with: 😆]
> Hey! Appreciate it! It was a solid race for sure.
> You’re catching on quick.
———— Today - A few seconds ago ————
> One more thing: Sometime around the British AGP, don’t yet know the specifics, Paul, Nora and I (more may join later, don’t know) are renting track time and some drift cars for a few hours in London, want in?
> Thanks for the offer. I don’t know what me schedule will look like then, but it does sound great. Can I let you know when I know?
> Of course, two months is a long time.
[“Jen Lowry” reacted with: 👍]



Bea Ward @MadBea:
[Image of both #3 and #18 crews seated around several tables in an expensive restaurant, raising their drinks in toast toward the camera.]
P6 and P8 for a total of 12 points, all in a day’s work. Here’s to everyone in the picture and back at the factory, who made it possible, and to the fans who make it worth more than just the money it pays.
Thanks to the staff and owners at @PalazzodiGusto, now my second favourite place in Italy after the track itself.

Glad that both Astrid and Hyeon-Ae are in one piece, going down a hillside like that.
That was a bold move, @HHAZygon. Shame it got wasted.
#FormulaAG #CarreraCondorAG #Italy #MarmoladaAGP

GalwayGirl: Call it “the first supper” because there will be many more!
MadBea: And unlike Judas, the amateur, we’re not settling for silver. :P
CarreraCarmen: Wonder how many teams are looking at Bea like “Fuck, we could’ve had her last year…”
UrbanMaverick: Now imagine those who looked at the second offer with the Pridwen funding and still went “Nah.” :D
AndesAG: AVA FUCK YEEEEES!
Hotstuff: so much enthusiasm for P9
AndesAG: its not about the destination, its the journey! the potential! Its not a shitbox anymore!
Crossfit_Crusader: Actually, fair.
TruckerTim: Lowry showing up with different coloured hair every weekend: Taking the term “clowning on Hart” to its peak. For real, someone help him or put him out of his misery, but this is just cruel.
GaryFromIndiana: Poor Cassie can be his +1 on suicide watch.
MrSmooth: Gotta be some fuckery going on at Zygon. This is NOT Cassie.
DohnJoe: zygon can’t have an outsider beating their golden child. Simple as
NineIron: This is what I call a season. God, let it never end.
Sol_de_Mayo: OK, I’m starting to see a pattern emerging here that I still don’t really like but can’t deny at this point.
ForzaGl0ria: No clue what the shit Haenae was doing.
Xinny: Passing. Kinda the point of the sport. What I wonder is how Astrid didn’t see that coming.
CloroxEnjoyer: Probably dipped into her own supply before the race, that’s how.
MissedApex: And it’s “Hyeon-Ae”




DELTΔ HYPER
A Couch in the Sky



"Well, it sounds like a dream for an ex-rally driver such as yourself. It seems like Carrera in particular will enjoy this circuit- with the upgrades brought to the ship, it seems like the team seems to be more well oiled this year than in previous years. What do you think has been the main factor?"

”Yes, this place really has everything. We’ll see how the moon measures up for the views, but so far it’s not looking great for Lady Luna.” Bea nodded, gesturing to the mountains around them.
”That’s a question better asked of León than me honestly, he’ll have the numbers as well as a better reference of the previous years. I could say Pridwen money and tech or that we now have two drivers with different mindsets and thus two approaches to problems,“ As opposed to the 2093 Carrera Condor lineup of ‘Ava’ and ‘Budget Ava’, ”But I don’t want to sound like I’m tooting my own horn. I think it’s largely incremental improvement, trimming the fat and building on what works over the years. That, and Alex has practically been living in the sim hall to get all the upgrades dialled in before we even put our hands on them. Watch out for the future, slow and steady we’re coming for that crown.” She smiled confidently.



Bea nearly dropped her shades from laughter when Paul revealed his scorecards, having been too wrapped up with the last-minute prepwork of the first interview to notice them. ”Finally, some half-decent points!”

Bea stifled a laugh when Paul spoke glowingly about Italian fans, being the partial instigator of her own not as positive experience with them. As the saying went: ‘Talk shit, get hit.’ At least figuratively speaking.


Saturday April 17th, 2094, 14:32
Marmolada, Italy
Qualifying
”Provisional pole. Good drive.”
”It’s not telling us much, is it?” Bea lamented, ”I get it for the fans, but I really wish we ran this top to bottom instead.”
”It keeps the masses on the edge of their seats and we can make educated guesses. Subjective feeling?”
”Very good. Sectors one and three are mostly free time for us. Tweety Birds might kick our arse though.”
And she would continue to sit on provisional pole until Jamie’s masterpiece, one she laughed a lot harder at than she would’ve liked once the Canuck climbed out of the wreck, after which the top five of the season handily beat her. Ava’s position was a disappointment all things considered, but points were scored on Sunday.



”This corner is your problem. I think.” Bea appeared out of nowhere, setting down a tablet on the table and pointing out the 90 degree right-hander coming onto the dam in sector three.
Ava flinched a little at the unexpected bubbly Briton, too deep in thought over her telemetry to notice Bea’s approach. ”Don’t take this the wrong way, but do you mean this one that you lost time on me at?” Ava asked.
”Because I sacrificed it in favour of the next one. Look ahead. It took you until this slot right to stop falling behind again and you’ve not made up any time until the end of the lap.” Bea pointed some six corners ahead.
”Go on.” Ava nodded, still not getting anywhere with it herself and it would explain how Bea could shoot out of the following corner that much faster.
”Brake early to get onto the dam and you can take the corner off it under ten percent power to reduce throttle lag before the straight.“ She explained, considering the small left kink part of the straight as that was also taken at full throttle. Another point to piston engines over turbines: Instant throttle response, even from idle. ”Don’t fight our stability, use our acceleration. I did this and I’m level on pace with Southern Cross from there all the way until this double apex bastard by the museum.”
Ava looked over the overlaid charts for a few seconds. ”Thanks for the tip.”
”Just returning a favour, Ace.” Bea smiled back, ”We have to get you into points tomorrow. I smell a constructors’ position in the air, the Yankees are struggling something fierce here.”
”Oh, did you get the memo that circulated when you were in the shower?”
”No?” She said surprised, intending to have a chat about not being in the loop with the team member responsible. ”What memo?”
”Someone at merch got a ‘wild hair,’ as you say. They’re launching Condor plushies with removable racing helmets at three o’clock, they want us manning the stand.” Ava almost rolled her eyes at the responsibility, actually rolling her eyes at Bea’s excited reaction.



Timothy Hill @TruckerTim:
"POV: You’re Neves looking at @MadBea at the start line:”

#FormulaAG #MarmoladaAGP #SilverMeansSecond
[Liked by Bea Ward]

ChesterFromChester: Sounds more like a Hart thing to do.
Zero: [A screencap from the same movie, with Bea’s face added over the original actress.]
MadBea: I guess that’s the Halloween costume settled. :D
Cats4Life: Big “Oof!” Villarosa.
AndesAG: shell catch up over the long distance
Xinny: Someone finally got fed up and stuffed a rag into the air intake of Stirling’s ship before the session.
GalwayGirl: Shush! They’ll find it now. :p
Laugh_Ness: mate, argies been mighty silent since tokyo. think they’re maybe finally realising the last good driver they produced was colapinto 70 years ago?
NineIron: Guy’s rolling in his grave so hard he could power Buenos Aires alone if they hooked him up to a genny every time Ibanez is on track anywhere.
_PsychoFish_: Nordic Call looking at their past and present rookies like “Frying pan and fire…”
Cookiesaurus: right in 1st sector too #washed
ForzaGl0ria: What you expect from a pineapple bandit?
TruckerTim: Canada committing war crimes against the barrier.
UrbanMaverick: I know you joked he looked suicidal after Tokyo but you might’ve been onto something there.
TruckerTim: I’ll take that job at Delphi now, thanks.
NeptuneQueen: As a lifelong Ambrogi fan I’m required to dislike Ward since 2091 but even I have to say that was one mother and fucker of a qualifying run.



Delta Hyper Post Race Interviews: Sponsored by the Anti-Social Social Club
Tokyo AGP


"Wow, sounds like an exciting night and we'll let you get on with that- Beatrix Ward everyone!" And with that, the crowd cheered, Aurora returning Bea's smile, moving onto the next.

With Aurora’s setup and the crowd’s reaction, Bea’s inner showman - or inner child, could be one and the same - couldn’t resist. ”Thank you!” She turned to the loudest part of the crowd and called out with a curtsy.


Wednesday April 14th, 2094, 05:52
Marmolada, Italy
Arbor Collective ad
“Good morning, Bea!” Harry Moss was as chipper as ever despite the early hour.
”Debatable.” Bea yawned in response to the Arbor marketing representative as she sat down at the mountain cabin restaurant table, not at all pleased about being woken up at fuck off o’clock because Harry wanted a shot with her mid-jump, silhouetted against the sunrise. People sometimes said her chipper nature was infectious. If that was the case she had no idea what was wrong with her or Harry, because in eight years of working with him she never managed to contract his ‘Early bird gets the stone.’ attitude. Gazza’s ‘Early bird gets stoned fur disturbing the peace.’ mindset was much more her speed.
“Come oooon. Crips morning mountain air, it’s good for your lungs!”
”Even the internet doesn’t work this early and I can still taste the toothpaste.”
Without a word, Harry slid a mug of cranberry tea with honey over to her across the table.
”Saints are real after all.” She eagerly accepted the steaming beverage.



The ad opened with Harry’s voiceover. “Who drives progress? Erudite thinkers and visionaries?” Pictures of Plato, Aristotle, Isaac Newton and James Watt flashed on the screen before a record scratch. “Nope, it’s lazy people.” The scene smash cut to close ups of an unknown figure taking a boring-looking snowboard - carefully scrubbed of any branding to avoid stepping on anyone’s toes - and stepping into the bindings before the next scene showed the person - Bea - give a half-hearted attempt at bending down to close the bindings before giving up, kicking the boring board down the mountain and grabbing another - bearing a stylized image of an SSTO craft atmospheric reentry, complete with vibrant orange of the reentry plasma done in fluorescent paint - out of the back of the car and stepping onto it, the bindings automatically closing around her boots. “Ride into the future with the Smart Bindings, the latest product of the laziest minds of the Arbor Collective.”

”More than just automatic closing, the Smart Bindings also adapt to your stance and weight distribution as you ride!” Multiple close-ups of the bindings making small adjustments to their stance and position on the board in real time were shown as she spoke, ”And you can even link it to your phone and HUD or AR-enabled goggles with the free Arbor app to see exactly what they’re doing and even disable functions you don’t want.” Bea came to a halt in front of a line of boards stuck in the snow, walking along it with one boot out of the bindings as she continued. ”And you can ride in style with over one hundred designs by more than thirty artists from around the world. All built out of clean and sustainable materials, all the while funding nature restoration projects since 2013 so you can also ride with a clear conscience!” She gestured to the line of snowboards before riding off-screen. Eagle eyed viewers would have noticed that in no two shots in the ad was she riding the same board nor had the same Arbor jacket.

The ad was closed off by a quickfire montage, including the desired slow motion silhouetted jump and an authentic fall because one, the bindings released both of Bea’s boots as advertised for the safety side of things and two, because it was unanimously agreed the shot of Bea wiping away the snow the fall had compacted into her open-face helmet with one hand while giving the camera drone a thumbs up was funny.


DELTΔ HYPER
A Couch in the Sky



Bea preferred cold to heat, but there were limits as clearly shown by her team branded winter jacket and woolen beanie and skiing pants in her trademark neon lime color. Despite cybernetics, she still needed gloves in conditions like this though, as she found out the hard way the same year she got hers. Skin could get stuck to cold metal even if that cold metal was part of you, who knew? She pulled down the scarf covering the lower half of her face and took off her shades as the camera started rolling, wincing at the Sun reflecting from every snow-covered surface for miles. ”Ow, that’s bright.”

"Bea, I'd say welcome to the Dolomites but it looks like you introduced us! What was it like filming with Harrison, and how did you find practice today afterwards on the circuit?"

”I am convinced it’s impossible to not have fun when that man is involved, and that’s before you factor in the location and the script. If you told me two days ago I’d get to drive the SCG double-oh-seven - a hypercar as old as my dad - I wouldn’t have believed you. You press the pedal and it’s like that scene in The Predator when Arnie screams into the night to call it to him. You can feel the power.” She glanced at Paul at the mention of an old race car, doing a visible double-take as she just now noticed him munching on a bag of popcorn.
”The circuit is amazing, no other word for it. For one it’s long so we don’t run it as many times in the race, short tracks get stale and as you fall into a routine it’s easy to stop focusing and make a stupid mistake.” No, of course she wasn’t easily distrac- ooooh, shiny! ”Then the circuit itself. It’s like a huge rally stage, I can practically hear the pace notes going through it, and then you have the glacier and the mountaintop sections, just... Whoever came up with this layout, top job. Someone get a time machine and drag Hermann Tilke here to spare generations of motorsport fans and drivers the horrors of Yas Marina and Sochi.” She said with conviction. Shit race tracks were no laughing matter!
Maybe some of the weight of her opinion was lost as she was starting to seriously crack up at the sight of Paul munching on popcorn in the corner of her eye. ”Leave it in, we’re not professionals around here.” She dismissed Rory’s raised eyebrow when he turned around to see what was going on. ”As for practice itself, it was pretty much what we expected. Personally, I’m really happy with the handling upgrade. The instability is still there in the hairpins and the big crests, but now we’re at risk of ruining our lap, not our ship. But we do expect great things here.”



Fortunately, the drivers were told in advance the post-practice interview would be done in the way it was, meaning there had been time to prepare. When her section of the interview was over, Bea hung around on the terrace outside, waiting for Paul’s interview to get underway before launching her plan partway through:

Standing behind Aurora and Rory, she turned away, pulling something out of a pocket: a t-shirt several sizes too large, large enough to put on over the winter jacket, doing so before turning back to face the interview couch to reveal the image on the front. Two images, one from Paul’s post-race Tokyo bet post with the background removed, leaving just the man and his t-shirt, the other a zoomed in view of Paul’s peacock eye makeup from their fashion ads, accompanied by a dictionary definition of a word.

suffering
/ˈsʌf(ə)rɪŋ/
noun
the state of undergoing pain, distress, or hardship.


She leaned back against the platform’s railing like nothing was amiss, her mirrored aviators and scarf hiding her face as the image was displayed plainly for Paul to see. Because growing old was mandatory, but growing up? Very much optional.



Bea Ward @MadBea:
No better way of destressing before a race.
[A group photo of all four two-legged and four four-legged members of the Ward family with the Sun setting behind Marmolada in the background.]
[A short video shot by a chuckling Frederick Ward showing Bea laying on her back in the snow and getting her face fervently licked by a Siberian Husky and an Irish Setter, laughing as she tries in vain to get up while a Bernese Mountain Dog and a German Shepherd look on in the background along with Eva, howling with laughter.]

#Dolomites #Marmolada #Italy




Raven's Rock, Camp Hannula, Pöyrisjärvi National Park, Finland


1700 Local Time

With @FourtyTwo


”I could’ve told you that myself, doctor.” The Cameroonian deadpanned at the diagnosis, ”It’s not my first concussion. Not even the worst one.”
“Clearly…” the Blue Sword medic Dr. Keller sent to get the prescribed medication muttered under his breath.
“That may be so, but while you are under my care I will entertain no such foolishness. You were shot at point blank-”
”I noticed that too.”
“-and maintaining your regular daily routine is simply out of the question until the bruising heals.”
One of the first things Monday taught Ebrima was to pick his battles, and when it came to arguing about medical conditions with Sophie, one couldn’t fold their cards fast enough. Thus he eventually found himself released, with a long prescription and even longer list of things he wasn’t supposed to be doing for a few weeks to heal up properly. ”Since when is reading considered a tasking activity?” he muttered to himself incredulously on the way back to his quarters, bundled up in at least four layers despite the melting snow.

Skye peered in through the door, seeing the pale-faced, albino Cameroonian leave Sophie’s with a long prescription list, nothing she hadn’t done herself.

“Well, you finally got to meet our resident doctor. And spent an extended period of time annoying her. Welcome to the club.”
Skye smiled, surprisingly, more upbeat after leaving behind Imran and the meeting she’d had earlier, and found that most of the team had packed up and gone in either to the queue to Sophie’s or the other Blue Sword medics that were now providing triage. It wasn’t uncommon for Raven to come back as walking wounded, but, with the best medics in the business, that was at least something that meant getting a patch up was quick.

“I thought to check in on you. I haven’t seen you since New Zealand. And then, I promptly left. So, thought you know, I’d reintroduce myself under better circumstances.” Skye added, the blue-fleece, cargo-trouser wearing redhead aware that well, there was some bridge to at least cover here. Maybe not as warmly dressed as Ebrima was, but well, Scots blood did keep that cold at bay. Following him, Skye did have to look up, one of the few people outside the giants that she did that with.

”Technically since Japan.” His shrug barely visible under two winter jackets and a scarf. And what better circumstances there could be than ‘Just saved the world.’? ”Must admit, you get points for style, chief.” Refuses to elaborate, jumps out of the plane. If nothing else it was a good example of what working with Raven would be like. ”Amazed Chuck walked in for his checkup on his own, his armor looked more like the surface of the moon than a man-made creation. Your team come back in one piece?”
“Yeah, you could say that. Bit of wee bother. Sam’s heart couldn’t take it. And I mean, literally. So hence why she was first in.” Skye chuckled with the most British understatement ever, shrugging, Sam considering her heart had stopped pretty lucky to have lived, as she shrugged, the two walking towards the main building and quarters, away from the medical block. Skye’s charm seemed to not be dying out, if anything, the events of the past few days had almost kept her more connected to the team than before. Attachment was a weakness, but then again, she wanted that. Kept her human.

“I suppose you caught me on the worst day of my life. In one day, I went from being a normal human being to becoming some sack of flesh produced as part of some military programme. So I suppose falling out of a plane into Shibuya wasn’t the biggest shock to the system.” Skye retorted wittily, the redhead adjusting her laced boot quickly on a stump of wood, looking over to Ebrima, shrugging, remaining humble as she could considering it all.

“Still. I suppose you’re right. Raven isn’t like any other task force. I selected you knowing your capability. Your lethality. You are fucking relentless, you know that? And I suppose, it paid off if what I heard from Adam on the rig is true.” Skye retorted back, breaking that ice a little, laces tied, and walking on. She was direct when she needed to be, that was for sure.

The mention of Sam’s heart was news to Ebrima, he hadn’t been in much of a state to observe what was going on around him after they’d returned. He didn’t know what the medic injected him with right at the start of his visit, but it was effective. ”Aren’t we all sacks of flesh when you look under the hood? How or what one or the other came to be matters little compared to what you choose to do with it. Who to become.”

It was natural for any human being to take compliments well, but at the same time, he may have been good at what he was doing, but that didn’t necessarily make him proud of it. Maybe it was the feelgood juice in his system, but he had to wonder how some others would have perceived this ‘pay off’.

Monday would nod slightly. Maybe even crack a smile.
But that was where the good reactions ended. How would his mother have seen him? Worse, his sister?
”I’m hardly one to judge what any other task force is like. You only get glimpses when they’re coming after you.”

Skye chuckled, smirking at his comment, knowing that it was a reality. They had captured him, but it had taken a significant amount of resources. His boss, of course was one thing, but his right hand man, that was another. Quite something, and Skye would not have wanted to go toe to toe to find him.


“Well, this one’s rather special then. Who knew, take a bunch of misfits who are just really good at what they do, and let them stew. Raven has some of the best.”
Skye opened the door on that note, getting inside of the Raven’s Rock building, heading through towards the small common room, grabbing a couple of mugs.

“You are right I suppose, we are what we make ourselves. Whether that’s genocidal monsters or whatever this is. I’m not so different from you, I don’t think. Meaning comes from service, just different ways. The money doesn’t really seem to color much in. But this work does.
Skye mused, immediately heading to the kettle.

“Tea?”
Skye asked, inquisitively, letting Ebrima crash on the couch inside the insulated, wooden complex.

”I suppose that is one keystone of success. Let the professionals work without interference. The world would be in trouble if more people realized that.” quickly shedding the layers in the heated building. ”It’s not the whole truth, though. Motivations, meaning as you call it… Sometimes people are made what they are by circumstance. You don’t even need to look at the extremes such as Rose or Luisa. Even after the pumps and toxin were destroyed and the platform was falling apart around us, some Artemis troops still continued to fight. Do you ever stop to think what compels someone to act in spite of any self preservation like that?”

”Do we have any cocoa powder stashed away somewhere?” Given the way they relocated to the Finnish camp, he hasn’t had much time to investigate the supplies available to them.

Skye raised her eyebrows at it, looking through a cupboard. And right he was.
“We might just do.” Skye seemed friendly in spite of what she perhaps sometimes hid, behind the fleece the lists of cuts, bruises, and most recently, the scar that now sat on her side seemed to illustrate someone who probably had seen some serious shit, that particular scar from getting shanked by an actual sword back in Tokyo. Lucky it hadn’t really penetrated any organs, or she would not be here now, but the bleeding had been horrid. Pulling the top of the sealed container off for the Horlicks, she poured a spoon of it into a cup, and as the kettle hit boil, Skye poured both her own brew and his. She then took the mugs across, facing Ebrima again.

“Money is a motivator, and even more so when it’s a guaranteed spot in a bunker to survive the end of the world. And you were probably in their way of an escape route. But, they had what was coming. Realistically, so does anyone in this game, if you spend enough time in it. ” Skye replied, sitting down on the sofa herself, mixing her tea, a classic Earl Grey. Tahlia had resourced the cupboards well, even within merely being here a couple of days, then helping out in Greenland. She continued to mix away, sighing, as she then leaned back on the sofa.

“I suppose it means I could have just been like you, and you like me. Yet we’re still here. Still doing what we do.” Skye seemed to have a certain resoluteness about her, as if she was in this moment, letting the barriers in. Gone was the warface, the lioness that seemed to roar, as if she was just in this never-ending attack of violence, here was someone else. The part of her that stayed human because it helped a good spy work when under pressure, but then again, also be a normal fucking person understanding motives, beliefs and getting things over the line.

“What gives you reason, Ebrima? The thing that you said….what compels you? Because I know your file. It’s not family. It’s not money. It isn’t glory. If it’s survival, then there must be something worth surviving for.” Skye changed the tone gently even in spite of her slight husk, direct, and understanding how he was as a person, knowing this wasn’t some therapy session, but, she wanted to get to know him in the face to face more than just an interview, actually get inside, and she knew there was an angle to take. She wasn’t quite like this with Sam, maybe even Freya, and Freya was the nerd that could squish anyone into fine particle matter. It was going to be difficult to penetrate, but she was careful, if not almost keen eyed to set this up.

”Some would argue I got a lot better than I had coming. Thank you.” He gestured at the rec room around them as he accepted the cup of steaming taste of home. Chiefly among them a certain Japanese someone last seen digging through some captured files, more as mental white noise as her brain worked overtime to process the most recent traumatic experiences.

‘What gives you reason?’ Wasn’t that a question for the ages. One he hadn’t asked himself in a very long time. Too long. The nasty glare at whoever even suggested knowing about his family was a subconscious reflex by this point in time. Fame, or rather infamy? Not good in the merc line of work. And yet he failed to avoid it. Money? That had been a motivator indirectly, but now everything and everyone he needed it for was either dead or incarcerated in Tel Aviv. Thanks, Raph. And survival? Yes, but.”Does ‘spite’ count?” He looked up from his cup. Technically speaking it was survival, but not for having much to keep going for as much as simply being too stubborn to simply lie down and wait for the end.

”Spite counts.” Skye giggled, shaking her head, sitting up, realising she was definitely poking at something here.
”Merely existing and knowing you do what you do best is sometimes enough. Just means you need something to point it at. And perhaps that’s all you know. I get how you feel….I mean, I found escapes. Ran from home when given an opportunity, and didn’t stop till I got here. Then all of the adrenaline. Makes you feel alive, you know? And then I’d have been the one hunting you though, so, I guess together, we’re going to have to figure something out when this whole mess is done. Because it is going to get us killed.” Skye chirped back with a light chuckle, perhaps her wisdom stemming not so much from any formal qualification, but more just her intuition, and her insight into someone that did what she did. Almost like she wanted the words to say to herself more, because she felt like she almost stared at half a black mirror of herself.

”Maybe one day we get some simunitions and see how that would have turned out.” Ebrime laughed heartily, ”I’ll take those odds. Chuck or Freya, eeehh…” He made a so-so gesture with his hand. Spite would probably not be enough there.

”The trick is, never go direct for a giant. They can’t move as fast as you can, so you just stay out of the line of getting punched. And go for limbs, weak points. Then, if you can get them in the neck, don’t stop because you only get one shot at it.” Skye almost seemed deadpan, giggling, as she broke with laughter.

”I thought similar, except achilles tendons and behind the knees.” He replied in the same tone. Just two coworkers talking shop. That just so happened to entail how to kill their other coworkers. ”Purna might be fifty-fifty, depending if he catches you cloaked or not.”

”See, I thought that. But it’s hard to get a good hit in. I dropped one two years ago. Mean fucker. Beat him to death with a….well, he had a sex toy, and I tell you, that’s a story to tell after a lot more whisky.” Skye broke with that awkward turn, giggling, nodding on his comment about Purna. Not that she’d uhh….told that story to the team prior without him knowing about it.
“Yeah, cloaked operatives are more just, lay fire into an indiscriminate area. I caught one once. Tiny bit of blur. But no armor means you get one round on target….you get a few more for free.” Skye seemed almost as if she was reeling this off like another Tuesday, of course, this was all among friends, as she sat up.

“Maybe we will. VR sims are pretty good. You gave me a good chuckle, Ebrima. I think after this is done, I need to show you some parts of the world you might not have seen. A part I haven’t, to be honest. Haven’t seen my mum in years, and after all of this, I wonder if she half knows all of what went down. Being a pisshead, and all.” Skye turned the topic as she mused on home, at first a distraction, then slowly a reminder, the commander of the team reflecting on roots.

”Legally speaking, what I do after this is in your, or I suppose Oracle’s hands.” He hurried to turn the conversation away from family, ”This is all my… what is the expression? A golden cage.” He shrugged, not quite getting it right but getting the point across. ”But it’s not all bad. Saving the world. It’s been a while since I’ve done something that felt like it mattered.” That was definitely Sophie’s feelgood juice and bruised brain talking.

“That’s the funny thing, Ebrima. This isn’t a prison sentence. This isn’t the suicide squad. Being here required some sort of will. And while you are useful to us fighting, you still decided to do the right thing rather than run as far away as you could when shit got real.” Skye retorted, realizing it might take him a little by surprise, as she sipped down some tea.

”It was this or an actual prison sentence, that’s not a choice to most people.” He countered.

”Yet still a choice you made when being lucky enough to get it, because if you think you’re existing out of spite, you’d do well in prison, Ebrima, not getting laced by people carrying gear more advanced than most special forces. The chance you might do some good. Maybe you’ve needed a little of that. Raven has made sure that people go to sleep without knowing what horrors might happen to them and that the lights stay on, because of all the horrible, fucked up stuff we do, and as insufferable as it seems, at least we all agree it’s better this way. If it wasn’t Rose, it was another insane motherfucker that hijacked a pair of nuclear station in Idaho and Kerala to set the world in nuclear hellfire, before that, someone wanted a DNA-based virus that would fall through humanity like a hot knife in butter. So, irrespective of what you were before. What you’ve done. I suppose that may be the start to offset that life. And whatever you want in it after, is yours. You’re not an instrument, you’re the bad motherfucker you are because you decided this is what you like. I suppose you go from here, deciding what that is. Purna’s maybe a model for you, if you want. Ironically. Just keep doing what you do best.” Skye sipped more tea down, completely in contrast, her Scots tones having that ability to warm, and yet chill at the same time.

“Or, have a terrible coping mechanism for orphaned operators, or operators that can’t work anywhere else, and look after them day to day. I suppose I know what I picked….” Skye smirked, sipping more of it down, sighing a little.

”I had a plan like that once. Something resembling retirement, even. Of course the joke is that the reason that’s dust and the reason I am here are one and the same. But the sad thing is: I know this. The fighting, the sleepless nights and trying to ignore your compatriot bleeding out at your feet because you both know he’s already gone - between this and prison, this was the easy choice.” He knew he was a mess, going through the motions because that was what he knew like some office rat trapped in a mortgage, but fuck was it sad to hear out loud. Yet at the same time if uncle Monday taught him nothing but one single thing, it was the fight, to not just lie down and let life take its course. ”You say I am who I am because I decided I like this.” He shook his head with a chuckle in respectful disagreement. ”None of this comes even close to that. As you most likely know, despite my wishes and best efforts. But sometimes… people are made who they are by circumstance, not choice.” He circled back to his earlier sentiment.

“Like you’re trapped. Addicted even. The thing that made you is what you keep coming back for.” Skye replied, providing an honest assessment, a brutal one perhaps, but cutting straight to the chase.
”It’s not something that’s escaped me, that me and Rose are perhaps polar opposites, yet she was sort of right. We are similar, I mean, how many lives did I end in cold blood as well. Less, but methods were the same. Perhaps subconsciously because it’s what we want, just….different outcomes. I can’t imagine living in what you did. But, you still keep going, and that’s enough. And you always have choices about what comes next.” Skye replied, perhaps knowing it wasn’t the full answer, but it was the start of one.

‘Addicted’ wasn’t the right word. Now, ‘trapped’, that was it. Not knowing how to get out, not knowing if it was possible at all. Perhaps even just unwilling to take the leap of faith and face the uncertainty. Even the phrase ‘coming back to’ was out of place, as that implied he ever left it behind. There was comfort in familiarity, however awful its reality was. And the things - the people, many only barely making the definition of the word in his mind - made him who he is? At least he could consider that a success - he outlived them all.

”Should I be worried about any subconscious desire to bring about armageddon?”

Skye laughed, shrugging her shoulders as she sipped down more tea, shaking her head.
”I mean, you don’t hate people in general that much, even you, Ebrima. You might think that. But I think you know right and wrong. Even when it isn’t that easy to spot.” Skye chuckled, gently giving him a nudge on that note, a shit-stirring smirk on her face, as she sighed, looking back outside.
”So somehow, we need to both figure this out. Both our souls I guess are looking pretty bleak.” Skye exhaled, finishing up her tea, unfolding her legs, looking out the window.
“Perhaps there are no good answers. Just keep going.” Skye mused, looking to Ebrima, trying to get a read.

Bold to assume he cared enough to hate. ”That would take a special person. Luisa was one such case. Though I suppose there are plenty more where she came from.” The conversation had surprised him, or rather he had surprised himself. Perhaps the similarities between the two made it easier to share. He’d call them both right and proper fuckups if his mother hadn’t taught her children not to curse. ”Keep going, for now. Maybe when the dust has fully settled tomorrow, I should take Raph aside to explain how many people who would have joined up if given the facts he indirectly led to their death.” He flashed a toothy grin, technically being justified in holding a grudge against the Israeli, but frankly? He’d only been doing his job on the correct side of the barricade… and Ebrima didn’t care enough to hate.

”If I may though: How did you find Enri?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him. ”It was like seeing a ghost.”

Skye shrugged, knowing the response was not going to be one that felt convenient to him. It had left a mark on him, certainly a dent in even his unflappable personality.
”She happened to work for Ban’s people. And I needed a voice changer, on short notice….so, there she was. Pure chance, literally could not make it up, but more improbable things have happened. And was the reason we could do what we did in Nagoya. Meaning this all happened.” Skye replied, cooly at least, almost with a little detachment.

“She probably would appreciate the same chat from you as well, Ebrima that Raph probably should have with you. We’re all the heroes in our own story, and the villain in someone else. I know, it’s bullshit. Revenge being this whole thing which never stops, a slight here, a slight there. Not unless you kill everyone. Yet, for these little things, that wound’s gonna have to heal, or it’ll rot and eat you whole. It isn’t really hate. It’s just…..that part of us that never lets go. Wants to find something to make it all feel like what we do is right.” Skye responded, knowing it might not touch Ebrima, as she turned, putting the mug back down.

“I suppose I could be better too. But hey. There we are. I’m not your therapist. Just a thought for your question from earlier.” Skye replied, dusting herself off, standing up and taking Ebrima’s empty mug, turning the tap on, and then running water through it.

”I’ll be sure to let the doctor know before I do, just so she knows why in case I turn up with another head injury.” He chuckled, the technicolor-haired and unexpectedly loud-mouthed hacker now completely unknown waters. But at the same time he couldn’t help but envy the woman. She didn’t just roll with life’s punches, she carved something out of them. Maybe getting shot in the head and living to tell the tale was a good omen?

”You could batter the shit out of her, and yet you’re scared of her. That’s funny.” Skye giggled, wondering how on earth he was scared of such a little timid operative, that looked totally, if not completely out of form in military fatigues, Skye more sarcastic than usual. Even for how brave Enri was, and lacking in fucks, in the moments where sword mattered more than keyboard, Skye knew where she sat, but, was more to the point, poking a little fun there.
“But yeah. Maybe you should talk to her. World nearly ended early today.” Skye added, realising Ebrima had seen it another way.

”I am a gun for hire. I shoot whoever I am told to shoot when I have ammunition, and stab them when I don’t.” Ebrima explained his situation with complete seriousness, ”Someone else always handled the talking. Besides there are some people - doctors and engineers - that you do not anger.” Hitting him with it wasn’t the worst thing Enri could do to someone with a keyboard.

“Then find another way to solve your problems that isn’t either of those things. After all, like you said, you have nothing to lose. Maybe some pride, and Enri’ll just burn up and get shitty, then it’ll move on, because she’s got the same rights as you have to be here. So tell her that, and get to the bottom of whatever it is you both have, if it helps you at least out of the hole you’re in. And if I need to be a counselor between the two of you because it keeps going, I’ll just drag you both on a quad bike, roofied out of your asses, into the middle of the Finnish wilderness till one, or both of you come back, and deal with it because unless you want to keep on living the rest of your lives wondering about some shit comms, you both need something. And more to the point, because if we have more work, I need all the cohesion I can get.” Skye seemed almost understated in the way she described that process, as she put the cups away, almost as if this was still small chat.

“Please tell me you can talk to someone when your head is better rather than me doing that, because it’s a lot of work and a lot of paperwork after. I’d really appreciate it, because while I appreciate the distraction, having genocidal evil fucking clones to go and kill are kinda enough of a conflict to deal with in one week.” Skye simply retorted, just at this point, her voice bubbling into almost a disappointed schoolteacher, the reminder of course, that whilst Skye was a team leader, she was also not going to give therapy here, she was just going to lay it on straight to someone she knew she could.

Ebrima’s reaction perhaps wasn’t what Skye expected, as he hadn’t laughed this hard in the last three or four weeks. ”No, it’s fine. I will get some earplugs from the range and get to it tomorrow.” Skye was definitely right in one instance: He had fuck all to lose. Even reputation didn’t matter much to a merc who was officially serving what was functionally a life sentence somewhere in Israel.

Skye chuckled, a smirk breaking from the moment of her, as she pulled her puffy coat off the hangar, amused by his reaction, knowing she’d gotten through.
“Good. Speaking of paperwork, I have some post-mission work to do. And medicals to look at. And requisitions. Javi is over in the garage repairing the hovercraft if you’re bored, and whilst he is a chatty bastard that might make you want ear defenders, he might appreciate the company. There may be a few others around too. ” Skye seemed to have that aura of business, as she looked over, holding the door open.

”I would offer to help with the clerical work, but I’m not supposed to tax my brain by reading or writing. Doctor’s orders.” He shrugged with as close to an innocent expression as he could muster.

“Then don’t consider a career in management where you work with whatever concussion you have. Sophie’s advice ends up being.really ignorable at that level. On that note, I’ll see you later at the campfire. Later.” Skye smirked, not hinting at her own assessment, the injuries, cuts and bruises played down a little more, as she always seemed to. Too fucking stubborn. And on that reply, she headed out, off towards the Blue Sword barracks to grab some spare ammunition to refill her M31’s spent mags, and get to work on the rest of the admin she had planned before meeting Ebrima.
Friday March 26th, 2094, 17:20
Q&A stream, post-Cape Town

Cookiesaurus: what goes through a racers mind when your about to crash?
”Our Father, who art in Heaven…” Bea started seriously before the mask slipped and she cracked up, ”At that point you clench your teeth, pray - if that’s your thing, I just curse like a sailor - and hope for the best.“ She shrugged, ”If you’re driving a wheeled vehicle that has a mechanical link between the wheels and the steering wheel you also let go of the steering wheel so it doesn’t break your hands, that’s why you see drivers cross their arms on their chest in onboards.” She mimicked the gesture, the same one she did in Cape Town. ”That’s about everything you can do. After a certain point you’re just a passenger.”

_PsychoFish_: Speaking of praying, are you superstitious/religious at all? Do you have ado you have any pre-race rituals?
”No, no rituals, no faith in the almighty.” Bea shook her head, switching to a more serious tone for this question. ”You see, I think of how things used to be 30, 40 years ago - well within living memory - and then look at how much better things are now, and the thought that regular, average people, maybe people like you, got together around a problem, threw ideas around until they found one they all thought was sound and then put it into practice and solved the problem - or maybe they failed, but they learned something new that allowed someone else to succeed later - is so much more inspiring to me than handwaving it away as the work of some higher power. I believe in myself and people around me, because when we, as humanity, set our minds onto something and all pull in one direction, there is nothing in this universe we either can’t do or find a viable workaround for.”

GalwayGirl: Regular or double stuffed Oreos?
”Double-stuffed Oreos are mid. You just like them because you’re addicted to sugar. I’m surprised anyone lets you run a bakery.“ She jabbed her finger at the camera with a wide grin, all trace of seriousness gone again. ”There is a perfect balance between filling and biscuit and regular Oreos are already that, any change is just making them worse and you know this already.”
GalwayGirl: I am addicted? Who was it who listed a cake as her favourite dish?
”That’s something else because…” Bea held up a finger but stopped mid-sentence, ”That’s a valid point, actually, but look on the bright side: We can be roommates in sugar rehab.”
GalwayGirl: Bitching! I’ve got bottom bunk.
Xinny (mod): No way they’d let you two bunk up, that much chaos energy in one room can’t be safe. :D
”What are you on about, Xin? Galway and I met three times and nothing exploded.” Bea asked, chuckling.
GalwayGirl: Nothing they can connect us to. :P
IronBeer (mod): Careful, your Crossmaglen is showing.
To be continued…

Sunday April 4th, 2094, 21:28 local
Tokyo, Japan
The promised party

The instructions to get to the party were a bit cryptic, prompting Fred to joke that if she wasn’t at the airport tomorrow, he’d assume she was being held at a Zygon blacksite along with everyone who passed Han in the race. Bea wore a green and black patterned t-shirt, knee high laced boots and a sleeveless cropped jacket. Great thing about prosthetics - they didn’t feel warm or cold if you didn’t want them to.

Although it was suggested as an event to get the drivers together, Bea - unsurprisingly - had a talent for getting distracted. Like at the 2089 County Galway Rally, where she found a baker’s stand staffed by a fan of her age and proceeded to spend the entire service interval chatting with her about food-safe paints and decorating cakes. And what the Hell, they were invited for a reason, right? Which was how she found herself talking to Merlin-fucking-Potter after some time, chatting about what’s new in the snowboarding world, politely dodging sneaky questions about some new product the Arbor Collective was supposed to be debuting next week and answering Merlin’s questions about AG ships by likening their features and their impact on a ship’s handling to snowboard construction.

But there was someone she wanted to speak to, even if it was just a small thing, stupid even, bidding Merlin farewell for now when she noticed Han joining the crowds. ”Done keeping the sofa warm?” Bea appeared out of the woodwork beside the Korean pilot, close enough for private-ish conversation given the setting. ”Have a few seconds to spare?” She asked, not waiting for a reply before continuing. That was some damn good Kijoshu they were serving here. ”Our little exchange between the interviews reminded me: Hyeon-Ae.” She pronounced the name slowly - which with Bea pretty much meant just normal human speed - and still with a slight mistake, whether it was from a genuine struggle with the language or the number of glasses of sweet sake in her shortened system being anyone’s guess. ”Now that I have finally figured out how to pronounce your name without completely butchering it, how about we stop calling each other by our surnames?”


Monday April 5th, 2094, 10:21 local
Buenos Aires, Argentina
”The Ranch” (Carrera Condor Formula AG Team headquarters)
The mood in the meeting room was better than Cape Town. Just like Cape Town, one driver did well, one did not, but at least nobody was in the hospital and neither ship had been turned to carbon confetti, making the mechanics, therefore engineers and therefore Suárez happy.

Bea was trying to temper her outward mood out of respect for Ava, but it was clear to anyone who looked that the British Husky was still riding the high of her first points of the series mixed with high expectations and frankly simply looking forward to the next race for the track alone.

Alonso was also in high spirits, having first seen the driver he was banking on that weekend plummet before the one he wasn’t hoping for much surprised. According to the IT department, a decent percentage of Argentina-based email accounts regularly getting flagged as spam had been silent after Sunday, however briefly.

”The handling upgrade package is finally ready.” Ronaldo Suárez started his segment.
”Great, we won’t have to take Fairmont as a three-point turn.”
”You both should find the ship more precise and reactive irrespective of your speed or dirty air.” Aerodynamic control was a bit finicky. Too slow and greater inputs were required, too turbulent air and it wouldn’t flow over the control surfaces properly. ”Do note that while braking action will remain slightly diminished in turbulent air, slowing down while turning will be easier now since all of your control surfaces are functioning as air brakes, and you will need to get used to applying the same control inputs regardless of your speed.“ He continued, ”Ava, you might find the new controls similar to transorbital flight.” The old engineer remembered.
”It’s been a minute since I’ve last done that.”
”And the other projects?” Alonso inquired.
”The Alicorn is still running too hot. Although the engine itself fits on the ship’s frame, the Antares interceptor its parent engine was installed on had more room and weight allowance for larger radiators, coolant reservoir and also ran a different coolant FIAR regulations do not allow. This is all further exacerbated with Beatrix’ ship which needs to cool not only the engine, electronics and cockpit, but also the immersion liquid. I cannot give you an estimate at this time.” He explained, ”Not that I am suggesting blame or fault.” He quickly added when he noticed a guilty look on the Briton’s face.
”Moving on, I’d like your opinion on the possible Driver Augment Department partners outlined at the previous board meeting.” Alonso switched to another topic, one that had been on the forefront of the team for the past few weeks.
”Out of all the companies presented, Sarif Industries looks like the best option to me. They have experience with military augments so performance shouldn’t be an issue and their R&D division is among the top ten in the industry.” He explained.
”Aren’t they in the shits since Miller started working with Tai Yong Medical?” Ava asked.
”Precisely. We would be their life ring.” León saw where Ronaldo was going. ”In the meantime, we are looking at some prospective candidates to head the department. Several interviews are scheduled for this week, I will need you there as well, Ronaldo.” Suaréz nodded to Alonso’s words.
”Flávia, anything from you?”
”Not in the short term except Bea’s Arbor contract the Wednesday before the race.” The head of communications reiterated last week’s debriefing.
”Tecnologia Automotiva Catarinense will most likely want something before the race in Argentina,” Ronaldo interjected, ”They’re releasing the new generation Forte model the weekend of Brazilian AGP.”
”I did have an idea. Ronaldo, we have a two-seater version of our earlier ships, don’t we?” She asked, Suárez nodding. ”Italy is too long to do it, but we could bring that chassis with us to Portugal and offer rides to the fans between the support race and the main event.” She suggested.

León Alonso’s office.

With the meetings concluded for the day, León returned to his office to resume actual work. An email from Flávia caught his eye, as she rarely sent him anything, much less with the ‘critical’ label. For a brief moment he thought one of the pilots - Bea likely - may have had too much to drink and said something she shouldn’t have at the pilots’ party, but banished the thought just as quickly as that would’ve been brought up during the debriefing. His eyes widened as he read the words in front of him before grabbing his work phone and dialing Flávia as he almost ran out of the office. The Driver Augment Department would have to wait, no way he was passing up an opportunity like this.


Tuesday April 6th, 2094, 13:09
London, United Kingdom
207 Old Street, Serata Hall
The restaurant’s windows were keeping the spring rain in sight but out of mind, the pitter-patter of droplets on glass mixing with the clinking of silverware and conversation. At a corner table for two, deep in the restaurant sat Bea with what looked like an alternate version of her meant for the Pacific market sitting across the table, Evangeline Ward getting some of their mother’s Native Hawaiian genes compared to her younger sister’s straight-laced Britishness. Minus the stereotypical bad teeth.

”So how are you settling in the company, now that dad got you started on the big stuff?” Bea looked up from her plate of salad, enviously eying her sister’s pulled pork in honey sauce. Using up cheat days when she knew they were going here was a bad call.
”It’s a lot of work, but it’s exciting, honestly. I’ve been diving into the history on the side, and I’m just reaching the peak of granddad’s era. Dad wasn’t joking when he called him ‘the last British cowboy’.” Evangeline snickered.
”Something spicy?”
”If Maxwell Fitzroy doesn’t like us because dad beat them to plugging a few holes in the market and sometimes steals a good contract from them, I can’t imagine what some of granddad’s competitors must have been feeling. Sure, most companies were trying to sabotage their competition in some ways back then and industrial espionage was your average Tuesday, but the lengths and craftiness granddad went to.” She shook her head in awe.
”Should I expect trouble?” Bea asked in a rare moment of seriousness.
”Oh, no. I haven’t found anything that bad, no assassinations or anything of the sort. As I said, everyone was doing it and it was barely an open secret.”
”Glad I’m staying out of that world. Look after yourself, yeah?”
”Don’t worry, I still have training wheels on, so to speak. It’s you who’s braving an unbeaten path.” Eva shrugged, the cutthroat methods of Arthur Ward II’s time largely in the past. ”But I hear you’re managing well at the top level.”
”It’s still early in the season, but it’s working so far and only getting better.” Bea beamed.
”Well, you have a good slice of the best Aerospace Engineering division in Britain behind you, of course it is.” Eva smiled back.
”Oh, speaking of the aerospace division, when do we finally get to meet mister mystery man from dual-mode engine R&D?” Bea leaned in with a conspirative whisper.
”As soon as you tell me about your Belgian colleague and your definitely-a-work-call.” Eva played coy.
Bea sighed in resignation. ”Alright…” She beckoned her sister to lean over, Eva doing so in anticipation of counterblackmail material.
”There is nothing to talk about.” The younger Ward said out at normal volume, causing Eva to flinch. ”He wanted my help raising money and awareness for a foundation his mum runs. Making professional sports accessible to people who don’t have a pile of money. It's for her birthday.”
”I see. Gift for his mum. And then he'll introduce you two at the fundraiser.” Eva continued to tease as soon as she recovered from the surprise, not at all discouraged by the look she was getting from across the table. ”Of course, I don't blame you. Charming, handsome blondie who also likes road cars-”
”Apage, Satanas.” The now slightly red in the face younger Ward commanded in vain.
”And I have seen the Enigma Lux advertisements around the city. Those were some trous-” She continued until she was interrupted mid-sentence by Bea’s snickering. ”What? You saw them too, didn’t you?”
A nod.
”The eye makeup?” Evangeline was starting to lose her composure.
Across the table, snickering transitioned into laughing into her hands, soon also joined by the older Ward sister. ”That poor bastard.”
”If I hadn’t been cured of my childhood dream of being a model already, that would have done it.”


Friday April 9th, 2094, 14:32
Buenos Aires, Argentina
”The Ranch” (Carrera Condor Formula AG Team headquarters)

”Another great afternoon. Sigh. Where's Bea?” Ava asked, with Rey shrugging his shoulders as they walked through the hyper-modern walkway, heading away from the older historic buildings towards the modern core, including the medical area.
”"We're just trying to figure that out. Ready for your appointment?”

132 meters South, two floors down.

The video opened with Bea’s ship in frame inside the hangar they were stored and maintained in, resting on specially designed struts. ”Welcome to The Ranch, lads and lasses!” Bea began as she climbed out of the cockpit with practiced ease, clad head to toe in a cleanroom suit and rubber gloves. ”And welcome to another technical breakdown, brought to you by the Carrera Condor Formula AG Team. Today on the slab,” She leaned against one of the canards, careful to not actually put any weight on it. ”Our new handling upgrades. Yes, they are finally out of the oven and ready for Italy. So let’s get stuck in.
The immediately visible changes are to the control surfaces, and you may wonder why we’ve made them smaller.”
Bea circled slowly around the ship as she spoke, the camera drone following to give the viewer a good view of the external changes, the various control surfaces long and narrow in contrast to the previous design. ”Ideally you want their surface area as large and their front to back profile as small as possible, that way it minimises drag while having a large surface area for the air to act on, but this is just the icing, not the cake itself. We don’t need large control surfaces anymore, so we’ve downsized them as much as we could, FIAR of course mandating a minimum surface area of control surfaces for safety reasons, and since we can’t get rid of them completely we’re using them as airbrakes and as backups if something fails.
So, how do we steer then, or have we become a drag racing team?”

She snapped her fingers, the video cutting to Bea now standing in a room with a window into the previous room and with two halves of a spherical casing containing multiple short cylinders on a table next to her, cleanroom suit replaced by a team-branded short sleeved t-shirt and dark blue jeans. She stood in the same pose, finishing the snap.

”Meet the cake. The Control Moment Gyroscope, or CMG for short. This little gizmo contains several gyroscope pairs mounted coaxially on gimballed mounts and spinning in opposite directions.“ The camera drone panned to one side to bring a touchscreen set up like a whiteboard into view, with two boxes representing a pair of gyroscopes with horizontal arrows - left arrow from the left gyroscope, right arrow from the right one - representing the angular momentum vectors. ”Normally, each pair’s angular momentum vectors cancel each other out, but when we rotate the gyroscopes, we’ll get a new resulting vector.“ She turned both gyroscopes 45 degrees up and used graphical vector addition to create the new one, ”And because the total angular momentum of the craft must remain constant, this action from the gyroscopes creates a reaction - a momentum vector of equal magnitude, but opposite direction.” She drew the reaction vector. It was a carefully rehearsed part of the video that had to be explained to her by a mechanic beforehand. Despite only having a high school diploma to her name, she even understood most of it as long as the accompanying math wasn’t involved. ”’Uh, Bea? You’re talking about rotation, but this entire time you’re drawing straight arrows.’ Very good point, hypothetical viewer, for this we follow the right-hand rule. Hold your right hand as if you were giving someone a thumbs up…” She paused for about two seconds, staring directly into the camera. ”...you were expecting a segue here, weren’t you? Well shame on you, you should know better.” She grinned before continuing, ”Your thumb is the direction of the angular momentum vector, that’s our arrow, while your curled fingers tell you which way it’s rotating.
Now of course this isn’t unique to us, all the ships have this, at least I think nobody uses reaction wheels, but I dare say ours just happens to be the best in the field now. The most common setup is a combination of control surfaces and a small CMG because the CMG is heavy, and our bigger CMG with more gyroscope pairs more so, but doing this our way allows us to steer more quickly and more precisely irrespective of how fast or how much dirty air we’re in. and we have the engine and overall low weight to be able to do this without notable loss of pace.
And that’s it for this breakdown. I’m off to the sim to see how she handles, you have a good day, hug your mother and I’ll see you some other time.”
She blew the camera a kiss before the video cut to the outro screen.



Friday April 2nd, 2094, 21:00
Tokyo, Japan
BioCHO sponsor event, Hakone Izakaya Bar
“Okay that makes sense. Some of the things we get asked by fans are so out there.”

”Oh, you want ‘out there’? I could have people CC you the next time I’m holding an art contest. ‘Creativity knows no bounds’ but bloody Hell, some people should have some set.” She laughed, perhaps disassociating a little from some of the things she’d seen in the past eight years.

“Bea why would we go to England? You do know that Japan is the birthplace of drifting, right? Drifting tracks are still very popular here in Japan. I am sure we could rent a track for an hour or two to have some fun while we are here in Tokyo. If you have the time? I will be here after the race for a few days taking care of some sponsorship commitments.”

”Because just because it’s from here doesn’t mean it’s special. Hamburgers are from Germany, yet it’s the Yanks you think of when you hear the word.” She shrugged, ”And if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right, with enough time, proper car for the occasion and everything.” She was also working a bit of an angle with it, because living with an older sister taught her it wasn’t a friendly competition if you weren’t tilting the field a little.

Hyeon-Ae: ”I suspect one question was sent in by Mr Hornfleur personally.”
“I don’t know about that. Dorian has a reputation for being a lover and a flirt. Of all those questions, that is the one I can most see fans having asked.”

”Oh, I can guarantee you that was an actual question. 80% of the time asked by women, 50/50 chance anyone asking that is 16 or thereabout.”


Saturday April 3rd, 2094, 18:20
Tokyo, Japan
Qualifying
The Shibuya section was almost fun, were it not for her ship’s tendency to understeer through it. Not like in a wheeled vehicle, going straight due to going too fast, but rather being too slow turn, requiring her to take the corner slower so the ship would have more time to rotate.
”Decent pace so far, keep your head down. Long way to go.” Alistair’s voice buzzed in her ears, doing the sisyphean task of trying to keep a racing driver from getting cocky.

Next came a long straight, at the end of which she knew was a long hairpin. She kept the throttle pinned, squeezing all she could out of the Carrera Condor rocketship where it mattered. The regular air mixed with the forward-going stream from the thrust reversers as she throttled back hard as the corner came into view, the resulting turbulence blanketing the ship in a cloud of spray from the water still standing on the track. She left a slight vapor trail behind her as the hot exhaust fumes vaporized some of the water, undisturbed by other ships.
”Building a gap.”

The Rainbow Bridge entry was a tricky one. She started wide, idle on entry, diving to the inside and gradually increasing power through the corner, inertia making her drift back out to the outside. Was it the best way to take the corner? Nope. The best she could figure out after days in a sim? Thereabouts.
”Sector one still purple.” Words of encouragement, but the word ‘still’ betrayed a time loss.

Next came another energy-heavy section through the tunnel, Bea once more driving the machine to the redline, capped off by the double-apex right-handed hairpin by the recycling center. She missed her braking point, the air flowing too fast over the side of the ship upsetting it.
’Whoa, WHOA! No. BEHAVE! Fuck…’ The laryngophones picked up her inner voice as she wrestled with the control stick for control over the ship dancing beneath her. Silence from Alistair meant nothing good. Just like that, the gap was gone.

More relatively simple corners, still somehow losing time. Improper energy use compromising entry, thus compromising exit speed and hundredths became tenths over the lap’s length. Lightly on the airbrakes, no reverser with the exception of one 90 degree bend and the tight hairpin at the French embassy.
”My kingdom for a bloody handbrake.” She groaned as she wrestled with the ship.
”Last few corners, come on. It’s not that bad.”
‘It’s not that bad.’ Ouch.

Finish line.
”Mode ‘Slow’ Bea. Temperatures are OK,”
”Well?” Less expectation, more ‘give me the bad news.’
”Ulrich and Astrid beat us.”
”Expected. Projections?”
”Pretty glum to be honest.”


DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 3: The Neon Bath




In the end it wasn’t all bad after all. Max had an off day and Jamie seemed fully in his Sergio Pérez phase. Not that having him breathing down her neck gave Bea any peace of mind.

"A qualifying to forget Bea, it looks like the ship has the speed but the energy system just wasn't there for you and Ava. Do you feel you can pull more out of it in the race, and do you think you and Ava will work together to climb up the grid?"

”I wouldn’t say so. It’s better than Auckland, that’s for sure.” Bea shook her head, ”Valkyrie gave us a run for our money, yes, but having Max and Bjorn behind us is a nice bonus. Jamie…” There was a pause, ”We’ll see.
As for working together, that would be the name of the game if it were up to me, but the track being what it is, I expect the team will prioritise points however we can get them, even if that means sacrificing one driver’s race. They’re in reach, that’s for sure.”



Saturday April 3rd, 2094, 21:10
Tokyo, Japan
Okura Heritage hotel restaurant
The glass walls of the restaurant offered a view of the entire city, the pitter patter of raindrops on glass soothing the diners. Except ombrophobes. At a corner table, the pro-racing half of the Ward family was enjoying their meals.
”Qualifying went more or less as expected?” Frederick looked up from his bowl of soki suba.
”Some did better, some worse.” Bea shrugged through a mouth full of yakitori.
”You are side by side on the grid with no other team pairs around, that’s an asset.”
”That’s what I thought in Auckland“ She finished chewing, ”And look what happened there.”
”Ava even mentioned it in her interview. You don’t believe her?” Fred raised an eyebrow.
”Oh, I believe she said it now, because she saw who’s behind us, or rather what team. In Auckland, the biggest threat to her was Bjorn, and his ship fell apart. And trying to keep Jamie behind us is pointless, a half-trained monkey could pass us in that ship.“ She scoffed, ”Our fight’s with Valkyrie ahead and Max behind. Jamie can go disappoint his team further up the grid.”
”My, you are in a mood tonight. And didn’t you say yourself that all 20 of you are there to do the best you can for yourselves after Auckland?”
”I know. This weekend is just a slog for me, up here I’m pretty much already in Italy.” Bea gestured to her head, accidentally smudging a bit of sauce on her forehead. ”God damnit. And it does actually make sense to use me to help her here. Not like we’ll lose any points doing that. Not holding out much hope for Luna, Argentina and the States either.” She continued after wiping the sauce off.
”Energy management heavy circuits?” He guessed the problem.
”Yeah. And I am not looking forward to not doing well in Argentina.” Bea sighed, ”Not the country’s favourite racer on a good day.”
”Ah, some of them are genuine barbarians, yes.” Frederick shook his head, ”All over some islands we were in the process of giving them anyway.”
There was a pause before Bea spoke again. ”Well, at least I can drown my sorrows on Han’s tab tomorrow.” The lighter tone eliciting a chuckle from the elder Ward.


Sunday April 4th, 2094, 2094, 20:00
Tokyo, Japan
The race
”We’re expecting Jamie to charge right away, joined by Bjorn on the straight.” Alistair reiterated relevant points from the pre-race briefing.
”Can barely see a thing in this soup, Al. Thermal, lidar, it’s all crap.” She complained as she settled on blended radar view, using radar data to create wireframe overlays over the track and other ships in her field of view on top of ‘feeling’ their presence through the neural link.
”So is everyone else’s, so no lap one heroics. Keep it safe and steady until the field spreads out a little.” Alistair stressed, aware his job since last year was pretty much herding a cat. ”Last ship approaching the grid.”
She glanced to her left, where she could actually see Ava’s ship.
Then the rear camera, where she half saw, half guessed Jamie’s craft.
’Don’t do anything stupid, will you?’
”Green green green!”

She stayed true to Al’s wishes for a good four and half kilometers, right up until turn eight. Spurred on by the sight of Jamie’s ship looming large in her rearview camera and emboldened by having made up four ship lengths on Ava by copying her energy deployment and adding a little bit of her own trademark insanity to it, she took a risk braking late and went around the outside of the long right-hander to pass Ava on exit.
”Nice one, keep them coming.”
She took care to give Ava enough space to avoid compromising her corner, but Jamie still followed her through no more than two turns later.
”Do I try to hold this guy or are we balls to the wall?”
A pause. ”Go nuts. Ava can catch up to you in the tunnel, he’ll most likely take you there.”

But he didn’t. And although she couldn’t copy Ava’s ELS strategy easily anymore, that Rally Bravery and Carrera Condor engine with Silver Apex software were working overtime on the straights, passing Dorian in the same place on lap two, only having to fight off one counterattack before the Frenchman himself came under fire from behind.

And then she got past Cassie when the Zygon pilot made a mistake at the start of the Shibuya section a few laps later, messing up her next four corners and allowing Bea to drive past her halfway down the straight like she wasn’t even there.
”Next ship is Hyeon-Ae, looks like she’s struggling.”
”And Paul?”
”Making good time ahead, go get him.” Alistair replied, blissfully unaware of the second reason Bea was asking about his pace specifically.

Bea would have to talk to Alistair after the race to settle on a shared definition of ‘struggling’ As although she lost positions, Han still put up a Hell of a fight, withstanding several laps worth of Bea’s feints and honest lunges alike, the British racer’s ship visibly loose out of tighter corners, until she caught a lucky break and squeezed through, but too late to do anything about Paul.

”Chequered flag. That’s P9 and your first two points!”
”YEES! Absolute legend with the energy management calls, mate. I feel like I had a second brain, like a dinosaur.” She chuckled, absolutely ecstatic at the result she wouldn’t have seen coming in a million years. ”I think my hands and brain are actually sore after this.”
”I don’t think that’s remotely accurate, but I’ll take the compliment.” Alistair’s inner Dinosaur Kid piped up, ”You know that one song: ‘When thunderclouds start pouring down, light a fire they can’t put out,’”
”’Carve your name into those shining stars.‘” She joined him for the last verse of the relevant part.
”’Carve your name into those shining stars.‘ I guess you took it to heart, because you did just that tonight. Not our circuit, good talent around but you made it work.”
”Now to do it again, and again and again. Top job today, lads and lasses, and for the whole week before. I owe everyone in the garage dinner. Pick a time and place and pay no mind to prices.”
”From how the boys are cheering, I suggest taking out a loan. Mode ‘Slow’ please, recharge off and we’ll have marshals around the pit lane, so easy on the throttle.”


DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 3: The Neon Bath



She made sure to find a few of the drivers in between the interviews to shake their hands, or at least try to, starting with Han. ”That was some lovely defense. Had me sweating until the last moment.”

Next stop was Paul. ”You really didn’t want that shirt, did you?” She laughed, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. ”Guess I’ll swing by later to pick up mine.”

She likewise circled back to Kais. ”Good show tonight. Keep her honest, make her shake in her boots a little.” She said with a warm smile, the platinum-haired ‘she’ in question obvious.

After a few seconds of contemplation, she also made a stop by the grid’s current black sheep with a simple but honest, or at least honest-sounding, ”Better luck next time.” said to Jamie.

"Bea, what a race that was! We thought your ELS pace wasn't enough, but it looks like you managed to make the best of the woes of the racers in front of you and make it on pure pace. Looks like Ava's advice has come through for you, how do you feel getting your first points in Formula AG?"

”You weren’t wrong, it wasn’t, but Colin McRae was right: When in doubt, flat out.” She beamed, night and day from the gloom of last night. ”Ava was indeed a big help in the week leading up to the weekend and I hope I can return the favour soon, but it would be criminal not to mention Alistair and the strategy department as well. Everything came together for us today!” She somehow spoke even faster than she usually did.
”There is a bit of a sour aftertaste in that much like Auckland, a lot of it can be attributed to people ahead of me having a bad race, as you said, rather than me actually doing much, but every race can’t be Cape Town’s pace. We’ll bounce back next round.
As for the first points?”
She finally took a breath, ”Just the start of the road. Absolutely over the Moon obviously, it took a lot longer in the Junior Series and to score here of all places when I’d basically written it off already makes it all the more sweet, but the worst thing I can do is let it get to my head and rest on the laurels. That being said, we’re indulging in some celebrations, I think the whole team’s earned that. Huge shame the other side of the garage doesn’t have much to celebrate with us, but this time it was us, next time it will be all of us and some bar owner will get to retire early.”



Bea Ward @MadBea:
[Image of Bea standing in front of the Valkyrie AGR fan area, wearing the signed t-shirt.]
So, what have we learned today? If you want to make @ValkyriePaul do something, make a bet with him that he has to wear wiphala if he doesn’t do it. I give this advice to you free of charge, Mr. Knight.

#CarreraCondorFA #FormulaAG #AGRacing #JapanAGP #ValkyrieAGR

NineIron: So that’s what that was about. Makes sense why she was gunning for him that hard now.
UrbanMaverick: One of my friends thought they were swapping drivers.
CloroxEnjoyer: Lmao, clueless.
DadManWalking: Nice to see the drivers being bros and goofing around, especially since some of them are still kids basically. It’s easy to get swept up in a competitive job like theirs.
Richie: That fight with Han though! Good stuff from both of them, we were all at the edge of our seats the whole time.
AndesAG: thats one for the highlight reel for sure
ZygonFirst: Sad for Han Hyeon-Ae, but I agree, beautiful battle.
Queen36: Ward just got lucky on that pass and you celebrate it like an achievement
IronBeer: In case you haven’t noticed he was complimenting them both, no need to be a cunt about it. Everyone has off days.
Laugh_Ness: Han was holding onto that last point like a rottweiler. That’s some focus, commitment and sheer feckin’ will.
CarreraCarmen: Super sad for Ava, but Bea holding back Jamie! On Pace (and traffic, sure, but still)! Pinch me.
MadBea: Mee too! :P
DohnJoe: yo, did someone tell zenix he can go home early if he beats the lap record? bro tapped into the speed force
GalwayGirl: Let’s hope he’s still gonna be tired from this in Italy, else that rematch ain’t looking too hot.
MadBea: Betrayal…
Zero: I’m convinced if you gave him a signed document freeing him from media duties forever he’d go FTL. Man clearly has the talent and determination for it.
LionneDeLyon: Painful day to be a Dorian fan.
Javi: daddys $$$ got lucky again
AndesAG: yeah, at least shes self aware enough to know. Disappointed with ava tho, she blundered it bad
Mate0: Well the team USED TO have two drivers who knew their way around the ELS systems…
DohnJoe: who you lyin to? midbanez was ava but worse
Xinny: Himself.
Briat77: Neves has been so fucking unlucky this season. Not even a fan and I still feel bad for her, first a breakdown, now she gets walked over by no talent in a worse ship like that.
TruckerTim: Could someone give Hart a damn hug? Bloke looks like he needs it bad or he’ll jump into the harbour.
ChesterFromChester: Nah, fuck him.
MissedApex: I think he should’ve stayed in the oven for a few more years, he’s undercooked for the top flight.



Boraro
Fireteam Poseidon

As if it wasn’t chaotic enough, now Adam canceled Artemis’ free trial of the doomsday platform in the second most spectacular fashion imaginable save for a nuke. Ebrima was staggering in Chuck’s wake, trying to pick off any Artemis that were still bothering them instead of trying to save themselves - the lengths some people would go to for an extra hundred on their paycheck - as he noticed his vision becoming slightly blurry on the right side. Yup, that was a concussion alright. Each explosion made movement even more difficult and every fall exacerbated his headache and soon he found himself in disbelief at thinking this was worse than the damn double triathlon Hell they put him through when he signed on. Somehow.

Reaching the edge of the platform felt like Sisyphus finally getting that damn boulder onto that stupid hill. Stowing his gear so it wasn’t loose during the fall and subsequent swim, he grabbed a nearby Artemis corpse and dragged it toward the edge of the platform, glumly noting that his PFD had fallen prey to Luisa's machete as he threw the body overboard before jumping after it. The dead man broke the water's surface just before Ebrima’s feet hit the sea, cushioning his landing quite a bit. Still, the Cameroonian sank like a rock, the exosuit not designed to swim without the ruptured air bladders. For a second he thought Luisa might get to kill him after all, even if she didn't live to brag about it.

Thud!

The smooth hull of the SDV under him felt like the softest foam mattress. He quickly found a handle and maneuvered inside, securing an air supply before tapping Adam on the shoulder to let him know he was in. Once they were aboard the VTOL, he took his radio out of its pouch, smashed it against a wall and threw it and the ‘borrowed’ Artemis helmet and headset out the back before powering down his armor and starting to untangle himself from the dead exoskeleton, removing the power cells once he was out. If Rose had trackers in her blood, he wasn't taking any chances with any Artemis gear or Raven equipment that had been connected to any Artemis tech. Now do we get to have a week off?”
Marit turned to the best way she knew to calm her nerves.. Perhaps the song of choice was a little bit pessimistic, but it fit in a way. She wiped the sweat off her palms into the fabric covering of her cooling vest for what felt like the millionth time, cursing that this was her body’s response to nervousness. Just when she needs a solid grip the most. Note for the future: Steal some gloves somewhere. A lot was riding on their shoulders on this sortie - they were about to fire the shot that would start the fall of the Crimson Fists and possibly the NPDRE - and she probably hasn’t been this nervous in a BattleMech since her first one ever. Even during their flight from the city or the land train with the nuke on board while stuck in mud, she felt like the fate of the objective was in part in her hands. But here, it was someone else doing the work entirely, while they get shot at by something that can hardly threaten the prisoners without also wiping out their own.


“...Bring about their downfall,
let's end this once and for all.
Our true calling and just a,
push of a button away.

Tonight's the night,
we'll let the fire rain.
Nowhere to run,
nowhere to hide.
And everyone will be lost,
whether sinner or saint.
So let it be done...”

She hammered on the dashboard next to the push to talk and external speaker switches with her fist as she got back to the song to make sure they were off as they were supposed to be, not wanting to end up taken out of context in a NPDRE propaganda piece or repeat her sticky Push-to-talk accident from the depot raid.

At Ingrid’s command, she advanced the throttle, Archie breaking out into a run as she continued where she left off. Slightly lagging behind the rest of the lance, sticking close to the scrapper and her Catapult, Marit raised Archie’s arms to give the cockpit a bit of extra protection within the range of his shoulder actuators, looking for hills or other things she could use for cover once the missiles started raining as her sensors started pinging in her ears as the turrets started waking up.

Go time.
Friday March 26th, 2094, 17:20 local
London, UK
Bea Draws Stuff @BeaDrawsStuff:
"I know today was supposed to be an art stream, but… cognitive technical difficulties happened.
Head on over to the main streaming channel for an explanation and today’s replacement content, start at 05:30 PM as usual.”


#BrainFail #BeaDrawsStuff #FormulaAG #Q&A

GalwayGirl: Ah, our favourite orange cat. Never change.
MadBea: I can neither confirm nor deny the brain cell was temporarily misplaced.
UwU-chan: You mean “I can meowther confirm nor deny the brain cell was tempawarily misplaced.”
DohnJoe: i took psychic damage reading that

Bea sat at her computer, leaning back in her chair with her feet up on the desk out of shot as she waved to the camera. ”Welcome! We weren’t supposed to be here. But we are. Whyyyy? Well, after the last art stream, I was going to clean everything like I normally do… but then GalwayGirl dropped her bombshell in the Discord. By the way, Galway, you were this close to catching a negligent manslaughter charge,“ Bea held up her hand, thumb and index finger almost touching. ”I couldn’t breathe reading that. If you guys don’t know what I’m talking about, head on over to our Discord server, link in the description, and have a gander, it’s the last pin in the ‘Storytime’ room. Anyway, I got distracted by that, and then I just forgot what I was going to do like a complete knob, aaaand now my airbrushes are full of dried-up paint.“ She held one of the tools up, visibly gunked up. ”So I found a sacrificial bowl, filled it with paint thinner and we’ll see if I can salvage this in time to do at least something today.
In the meantime, since the stream with Amy, there was a big spike in subscriptions. Welcome to the madhouse, new people, we’ve got fun and games.“
She held her arms open in a welcoming gesture, ”And with new people came old questions, with a vengeance. So initially I thought I’d go through the evergreens and answer them so they’re all in one place people can go to and neither I nor others have to repeat the answers over and over ad nauseum. And then this happened, and although I might regret this, I thought why not do this live and post an edited version later, plus the ones that are unasked here. And we’re doing it here because let’s go with all questions, not just art.
So get your questions sorted out, I’ll go get some tools, and we’ll get right into it.”


MrZombie999: Who or what made you want to race?
”I and every other racing driver in the world answer this one at least once every year in official interviews at the start of the season you lazy bugger, you didn’t even try.” Bea grinned as she started disassembling the airbrush, ”Though I suppose that’s the definition of an evergreen, isn’t it?
There wasn’t really a person or a racer I idolised. Once I was racing I obviously read up on the sport’s history, so names like Walter Röhrl, Michelle Mouton, Einar Englund and Karri Talo entered the picture, but no one that actually stood behind my decision to race.
Instead, when I was two, three years old, I’d sit on the living room floor playing with LEGOs and my dad would be there working from home and he’d have the telly playing on our home cinema as background noise. Dad always liked boats, so I was playing with LEGOs, imagination in overdrive, under this four by two wall of Sailing Unlimited, Olympic Sailing and maritime documentaries and before long, I was no longer building houses and animals, I was making boats and ships. And when I inevitably asked dad if I could join a sailing club, he obviously said yes and those will always be some of my most treasured memories, those father-daughter bonding moments of preparing and launching our boat or discussing the club races.”
Bea recalled fondly, placing several pieces of the airbrushes into the paint thinner bowl.
”If you ever have to do this, remember to never soak the whole thing, just the metal parts. Paint thinner and rubber seals don’t party well together.”
CryptidX: So why the switch from sea to land?
”You get wet, you get cold, if there’s no wind there’s no race, it’s not a comfortable affair.” She shrugged, ”Bit of a weird reason to switch to karting I guess, but there it is.”
CryptidX: Do you still sail?
”Occasionally, when the weather’s nice. Speaking of, I’ve got something related to that planned for the summer break for the art channel, too. All of you who have been with me since the sailing days will love that.”

NineIron: Would you rather fight 100 duck-sized Kais’ or one Kais-sized duck?
”I’ll take the Kais-sized duck and anyone who claims otherwise is either lying or fucked in the head.“ She laughed, ”You have no idea how happy I am Kais was just another victim of maple syrup terrorism and not the perpetrator of that incident, because I am not looking forward to chatting shite about Kais for any reason. I’m quite attached to my front teeth being where they are.” She wasn’t trying to say he’d do it, but she wasn’t entirely convinced he wouldn’t either.

To be continued…


Friday April 2nd, 2094, 07:30
Tokyo, Japan
5500 meters above sea level
”I can’t overstate how happy I am that they aren’t making us say the patented name of this gizmo.” Bea tugged at one of the small devices attached to the harness, sitting cross-legged in the side door of a helicopter in a company-provided white jumpsuit with black highlights and black full-face helmet.
”Still can’t get it right?” Ava wore the same except with inverted colors, slipping on her helmet and stretching while the HUD confirmed the gizmos in question were working right.
”If it has more syllables than a week has days it’s not a word, it’s a tongue twister.” When they first got the script the previous day, both pilots spent their lunch stumbling over the long Japanese name the company chose for their new line’s unique selling point.
The video coordinator looked up from his tablet. “Camera drones ready for jump one!”
“Sound checks out.”
Both racers gave the crew a thumbs up and stood in the door.
“Aaaaand… Go.”

— — —


Framed by the rising Sun, Ava and Bea stood in the door, the camera doing a close pan of the parachutes on their backs before Ava looked over her shoulder into the camera.
”As a former test pilot, I know the importance of precision and reliability. That’s why I trust Fujikura parachutes.”
Then, as one, they both turned to face into the helicopter and fell backwards with a slight push away with their legs, arms spread as wide as the smiles on their faces, over the edge and out of view.

Several quick cuts of freefall acrobatics followed, both solo and the two in close proximity; plain and with smoke canisters attached to their ankles, and including shots of the pair performing a synchronized routine together, all with an upbeat, inspirational track in the background.

The fun was interspersed with closeups of the sensors around the harness, on-screen graphics explaining all the helpful features they enable, and CGI-modified visor cam shots of the two skydivers showing the HUD giving them real-time data on wind, speed, sum of speed vectors, acceleration and more, essentially allowing for IFR skydiving.

The camera cut to Bea levelling out of an inverted corkscrew and deploying the parachute, the canopy featuring a sun setting over a mountain range in vibrant colors. Ava followed soon after, her canopy adorned with intertwined red dragons on a white background. An overhead shot showed both women landing standing up on small cardboard markers, high-fiving each other after stowing their chutes and doffing their helmets.
”And with the new guidance system,” Bea turned to the camera, ”You can dive right into the fun without worry, whether you’re a seasoned skydiver or just starting out.”

“Fujikura Parachutes” The narration closed as the screen cut to the company logo, “Your adventure awaits.”




Bea Ward @MadBea:
[Selfie of Bea and Ava in their skydiving gear, arms around each others’ shoulders and smiling into the camera.]
Amazing day out at the shoot with @FlyingAva, even worth the 6:30 AM wake up.

#FujikuraParachute #Skydiving #Tokyo #CarreraCondorFA #FormulaAG #AGRacing


Shel1: Ah, what the hell, I needed to upgrade anyway. I can live on instant ravioli and tap water for a month, right?
HotStuff: I have no idea how theyr allowed to do this
NineIron: Man, Imagine someone telling you you can’t do a dangerous hobby so you don’t injure yourself and can do your dangerous job instead.
Crossfit_Crusader: Which, to Bea, is also a dangerous hobby. :D
Richie: Man, imagine trying to tell Bea to do or not do something. I’d rather herd cats.
MalvinasMatias: Wow. Blasts Spirit over being “unsafe” last year because their planes were found SLIGHTLY rusted and now she’s shilling this? Really? Hypocrite.
Javi: wish her parachute failed
Darkstar69: Damn, those jumpsuits…
TruckerTim:


Bea Ward @MadBea:
It’s waiting, @ValkyriePaul :P
[Image of the most garish shirt the Carrera Condor merch shop offered with Bea’s signature across the front and a sheet of A4 paper with ‘Large/52’ written on it on a table next to it.]

#CarreraCondorFA #FormulaAG #AGRacing #JapanAGP #PaulMulder #TeamValkyrieAGR



DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 3: The Neon Bath



Bea sat on comfortably the Delta Hyper set, clad in the usual jeans, team polo and sneakers, listening to Aurora’s explanation. Seemed easy enough.

”Who is the most likely to eat noodles with a fork?” She read the first question, ”Starting controversial, the answer is: Anyone with a shred of sense.“ She grinned mischievously, ”But I’ll say me, because I know for a fact I don’t know how to use chopsticks.”

”Who is the worst at keeping secrets? I think Amy and Han would be pretty bad choices to tell yours, not because they’d accidentally tell someone else but because they’d do it intentionally if they thought it could help them.” No malice, just a matter-of-fact statement.

”Who is the best Christmas gift giver? Definitely Han. She strikes me as the type of person who has entire Excel spreadsheets for birthdays, previous gifts and whatnot.”

”Who is the most fussy eater?” After reading the question, Bea simply raised her hand in silence.

”Who is the most likely to climb Mount Fuji? Oh, that’s Harrison. Although I think Jenny does bouldering, she might go as well.”

”Who is the most likely to get speeding tickets? Nora.” Bea fired off immediately, not even elaborating. ”Maybe Henry. Rich kids, am I right?” She added a second option, the sarcasm dripping from her voice.
“Paul thought it’d be you.” Aurora added.
Bea raised a finger. ”Look, in my defence, a lot of times the speed limit is complete horse manure. But he’s not entirely wrong.”
“Would you share how many?”
”Nooo, I think I’ll take the fifth. Next question! I don’t like where this is going.” Bea laughed.

”Who is the best drifter? Either me or Ulrich. I’ll say me, because I’d been rallying for longer. To quote Walter Röhrl: ‘Good drivers have dead flies on the side windows.’” She flashed a toothy smile.
“Paul wasn’t sure who would be better between you and him and suggested you two find out.”
She drummed her fingers on the tablet. ”I know what he’s doing, and I hate that it’s working.”

”Who is the biggest classic car fan? Oh, that’s easy, that’s Paul. Dorian probably has a few, but Paul I know for sure.” Bea knew he inherited his father’s collection, but didn’t explain her reasoning. Audrick’s death got brought up every other time Knight was in the news, she didn’t need to add to that.

”Who is the most likely to be the first to die in a horror film? Henry. Rich playboy kid never makes it past Act one.”
“Does that mean you two would be the first to go?”
”I like to think I’ve seen enough horrors with my dad to recognize I’m in one early and leave, but maybe that is what would do me in. ‘Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.’ after all.” She shrugged with a smile.

”Who is the most romantic of the pilots on the grid?” She actually paused to think, ”Well Dorian definitely thinks so, he’s French.”

”And the last one: Which pilot would you most want to be stuck on a desert island with? It says ‘desert’ island, so I’m assuming there aren’t all that many resources to go around, so either Harrison, Nora or Ulrich. If I’m going to die of dehydration, might as well make those two days fun.
If it’s like Robinson’s island, survivable, then Ava. She’s had training for it, I know we can tolerate each other and I’m almost sure she wouldn’t whack me with a rock to preserve resources and then blame it on an unfortunate fall when she got rescued. Kais is also a valid choice, but the jury’s still out on the last two points.”


”Your turn now.“ Bea reached over with a smile, handing the tablet over to Aurora, ”You’re as much of a star of the sport as any of us are.”


Friday April 2nd, 2094, 21:00
Tokyo, Japan
BioCHO sponsor event, Hakone Izakaya Bar
The event was in full swing, a mix of pilots, sponsor representatives and both paying and invited VIPs milling about under the rainswept energy shield and beats of the music. And with the fruitiest, most colorful drink being offered in hand, clad in a black pantsuit with white-colored accents - she needed full sleeves since she couldn’t be bothered to swap out her prosthetics for the backup set to keep up with dress code guidelines on visible body art - and giving the cameras the occasional wave, Churchill’s ‘V for Victory’ or a blown kiss, Bea was right in the middle of it, the inkpens she brought along getting mileage on them as, knowing she had nowhere else to be, many people were asking for sketches in addition to the regular photos and autographs and in the breaks between, she kept herself busy dragging the Condors’ resident introvert out of her comfort zone. Although her plan to make it a bit more bearable for Ava by finding the similarly-outgoing Astrid to start with crashed harder than she did in Cape Town as Astrid beat them to the event by about fifteen minutes and that was enough to get the Faroese pilot going.
”Bit of a shame we already did the Fujikura ads.” She noted, ”That would've been some publicity stunt. ‘Alright, time for bed.’ Grab stashed parachutes and throw ourselves over the edge.”
”I think you've had too much to drink.” Ava replied from behind a glass of Chilean red, ”Or maybe not, I've lost the ability to tell with you.” She added a friendly jab.
Bea was about to reply when Astrid got their attention, the group merging with some of the other pilots.

"What do you drink by the way? I know they're free, but I'm gonna make a run to the bar!"

”I still have some, thank you.” Bea raised her glass, still half-empty, when Cassie offered to make a booze run. ”Have to pace myself.” This wasn't a secondary school house party, she had a qualifying session to knock out of the park tomorrow. The unconstrained merriment would have to wait until Sunday evening.

"I don't think we've met yet. You did well in Cape Town. Till uhh...yeah."

”’Yeah.’ about sums it up.” She nodded in agreement with Harrison, reaching out to shake his hand. ”But it wasn’t my first, it won’t be the last, such is life.” Bea shrugged.
”So, is this finally your year or are we in for another snoozer?” She turned to both Southern Cross drivers and more cheerful topics, nodding her head in Amy’s direction at the last word.

Her eyes visibly went slightly wide in surprise when Astrid mentioned bidding on her art for the painting itself as opposed to the charity, and kept growing when Dorian joined the club. ”Thank you, but you do know that our facilities are just down the paddock from yours on a race weekend, do you? You can just pop over to say ‘hi’ and ask. Any of you.” She offered with a smile before turning to Astrid specifically, ”I’ll trade you one for some gin, I had one of yours a few-.” She paused, ”For legal reasons two years ago at a wedding, like liquid liquorice candy.”

“Does anyone else wonder where they come up with these questions to ask us?”

”They most likely have interns scour fan sites. It tracks with the style, especially of younger fans, the secrets and drifting for example.” She shared her opinion when Paul asked, ”Oh, and regarding that: You’re on.” She jabbed a finger in his direction, referring to the drifting challenge he proposed. ”Manager at the Brooklands Mercedes World in London owes me a favor, I could get us a few hours on the attached test track.”
She nodded to the name, making a mental note of it for now as she finished her breakfast, huddling up close to the others while somehow keeping distance from Aurelia’s serpent.

Apparition never felt right, a strange and uncomfortable sensation compared to the majesty of flight, which also allowed one to survey the destination before arrival. ”Either they found a very generous donor, or they have an amazing transmuter on retainer.” She noted idly as she ran her hand along the wood paneling of the hidden speakeasy, gesturing toward a menu posted on an enchanted chalkboard floating across the room. ”Look at the prices. They’re undercutting the family.”. She drew her secondary wand - reasoning charms would work better than transmutation in the situation - when the boss did and started blasting, chaining the summoning and repelling charms to send furniture smashing into walls and other furniture.

Following into the backroom, she was already casting as soon as she stepped into the door. Duro.” She cast the hardening charm on a nearby mobster, the man turning to stone in less than a second. A mix of Reductos, Bombarda’s and the occasional Incendio followed in rapid succession, Alícia trying to make up for her wanting martial magic skill with speed, unpredictability and violence of action, focused on moving constantly or having cover rather than protective spells. One of the Blood Pack began to shift, her human body morphing into a vaguely dog-like shape the size of a large chair. Homorphus! She called out, the hostile animagus reverted back almost instantly, just in time to look confused as she was obliterated by a curse from one of her compatriots. What a way to waste a Wolverine Animagus. Amateurs, these people, changing mid-fight.
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