It was a good turnout for the venue. Six, maybe seven dozen folk milled around in front of the stage, chatting and sipping at beers in clear plastic cups. Over on the opposite wall, a man was selling T-shirts and albums displaying the logo "ELECTRIC HAZARD" in bright yellow lettering above an Olena and a Sparwire. A haze clung to the dimly lit ceiling. A trio of girls stood in a corner, puffing on a cigarette they were passing around.

"How's it looking, Dom?"

Dom looked over his shoulder and flashed a toothy grin. "Pretty damn good, I think. Couple pretty ladies for me, a tall brooding gentleman in the back for you." Chelle Lee rolled her eyes and sent an elbow into Dom's ribs. He let out a loud oomph as the air rushed out of him. "Careful, bitch, we go on in a minute."

Dominic Fox was a tall and lanky young man. His mother swore that from the day he turned twelve to the day he turned thirteen, he had grown a foot and a half. At six feet one inch, he rose above the heads of the average person in Nerta, but his slender build betrayed him, to his chagrin; unless he was directly next to somebody, he was often mistaken for being much shorter. His body was slim, not an ounce of fat to be found on him, but barely a muscle, either. Sullen cheeks, sharp cheekbones, and a pointed chin gave him the slightest of emaciated looks, but with a quick glance at his vibrant blue eyes, one knew he was the life of the party.

His blond hair was worn long and shaggy. Hanging almost to the base of his neck and down in front of his eyes, it was in dire need of a trim and a wash. Over it Dom wore an electric yellow bandanna, the same color of his sneakers. Skinny navy jeans, almost dark enough to be black, came up to his waist, and he wore only a black leather vest over his bare chest, covered only by the pair of guitar picks on a metal chain. Hairless, the skin gleamed with sweat from the red backstage lights. His guitar was slung over his back, glossy white wood reflecting the light at strange angles.

Michelle Lee, preferred name Chelle Lee, was not amused at her partner's antics. A serious-looking girl of twenty-three, Chelle Lee was band manager, drummer, backup singer, and Dom's best friend since childhood. Her naturally black hair had been dyed with streaks of purple and red, and it hung down to her waist in a ponytail. Her almond-shaped eyes were currently narrowed at Dom's wry joke. A round, flat, cute face led her to be the desire of many men who attended their concerts. She was short, only five feet three, but there was something about the way she stood that demanded attention and compliance with whatever she was saying.

Presently, she was wearing a T-shirt with their band logo emblazed above a Sparwire in flight. Her body was also slim, though not so much as Dom's. Her bust was small but ample, and her waist thin. A miniskirt in black and yellow went down to her mid thighs, where they met her long, unmatching socks. Her right was a swirl of black and purple, the left a stripe of red and blue.

Dom smiled down at his best friend after he had caught his breath. "You ready for this? Toran's nothing we've done before."

"Fuck yeah, I'm ready," Chelle Lee replied, twirling a drumstick in her right hand. She turned her head to their third member. "Did you get the line down? You were fucking up on Kyonshi Country last night at practice." Electric Hazard was notorious for being unable to pin down a bassist, and this was the third in as many gigs. A native to Toran, he was clothed in generic rock attire into which not much description would be spared because of the lack of importance this certain band member had. His name was even so unimportant that Dom had not even bothered to learn the man's name.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. No need to worry," the nameless bassist replied.

"Good," Dom replied. "We can't be fucking up on our first gig in Toran, ya hear? Good. Okay. Alright. We'll be good." He was nervous, sweating already. His legs and arms twitched with anticipation. Hopping from one foot to the other, he tried to release some of his built-up energy.

Chelle Lee placed a hand on his forearm. "Chill. You're psyching me out. Just play it cool." She gave him a look and he nodded, settling down.

"Yeah, you're right. This'll be a breeze." He ran his thumb over the two picks on his neck. They held his two Natrelmon, Spaz and Needle. Spaz had been with him since he was ten, a fast friend ever since he had ventured into the forests of Armkfish and had found the injured baby Sparwire. The Nakumo was a much more recent addition, part of a Trainer recruitment package. He and Chelle Lee had registered for licenses. Seeing how they would be on tour to promote their brand anyways, it wouldn't hurt to learn the ins and outs of Natrelmon battling along the way.

The stage manager, a short balding man, pushed past the band and walked onto the stage. As he grabbed the microphone, the crowd grew quiet and turned their attention to the front. "Ladies and gentlemen," the stage manager started, "it's time for the event you've all been waiting for! Please put your hands together forrrrrrr.... Electriiiiiiiiiic Hazaaaaaaaard!"

Dom led the way past the curtains as the crowd cheered and clapped wildly. He flashed his toothy grin to the audience as he tapped one of his guitar picks and muttered, "Fly free, free bird." In a flash of light, Spaz appeared above his head, twittering and fluttering about the venue. The crowd seemed to enjoy that, their cheers growing louder. Out of the corner of his eye, Dom saw Chelle Lee roll her eyes again, but she couldn't help but smile as she released her Olena.

The band took up positions and plugged in their instruments. Dom stepped up to the mic and gripped it with one hand as Spaz flapped down and landed on his shoulder. "How's everyone doing tonight?"

Cheers.

"Damn, this is a good crowd. Toran Dockside Clubhouse, thank you for coming out tonight. We've got a hell of a show for you. First up is one that I'm sure you've all been dying to hear." He nodded at the nameless bassist, who nodded back that he was ready.

"You fuckin' ready to rock, Toran?!" Chelle Lee screamed from behind her drumset.

Cheers.

"One, two, three, four!" "Fuckin' hell that was a good show," Dom was saying, his arm tightly around Chelle Lee's shoulders. Try as she might, she could not wipe the smile off of her face. Dom was right; it had been a good show, apart from the bassist fucking up Kyonshi Country. She had had a few choice words with him after the gig, and in a rage he had quit the tour. Perhaps she could try to teach Cloak to play the bass... But somehow she doubted an Olena could figure out the intricacies of tabs.

The two were walking down the streets of Toran, the cool sea air a sweet relief from the stuffy interior of the Dockside Clubhouse. Chelle Lee's Eishund walked obediently at their side, its nose held high in the air. Dom's Sparwire flapped around their heads, creating a nice breeze.

"We'll have to find another bassist, though," Chelle Lee said. Despite her good mood, as band manager she needed to concentrate on the future of their tour. Without a bassist, they wouldn't be able to play, and not being able to play meant the end of their tour and their chance to get their name out to the rest of Nerta.

"Relax," Dom replied. "We don't play again for another three days. We'll find somebody."

Chelle Lee took a deep breath, trying to let go of the stress. "Yeah, I'm not having any of it. We'll relax tonight, but first thing tomorrow, we're putting out notices and finding a bassist."

"Fair enough, fair enough. You're the boss."

They rounded a corner and came to a section of newly-paved street. New buildings were being erected, but the sign of damage was still plainly visible. Rising from the center of the block, in front of the Toran Arena, was an obsidian pillar, five-sided and tapering to a point at the top. Wreaths and flowers lay at its base.

The two grew quiet. Even in Armkfish the tale of the fight in Toran was talked about with worry. There were those who believed it would be the spark to rekindle the war between East and West. While that hadn't been the case, the damage here was severe enough to show the terrors of war.

"You sure you won't have problems going East?" Dom asked quietly.

Chelle Lee shook her head. She was scared, of course. Her father had gone East to fight and had never come home. There had not been enough mercy in her heart to completely forgive the Easterners, but the past was the past. The war was over, and Electric Hazard was her life now.

"C'mon. Let's get something to eat," Dom said, taking her gently by the arm and leading her away. "I hear there's a good southern barbecue place a few blocks from here. Perhaps we'll also find some other Trainers, or someone who can play the bass."

Chelle Lee let him lead her away, thankful for his thoughtfulness. Dom had always been there for her. He knew when to be wild and when to be comforting, and she knew that he would take a bullet for her at a moment's notice. It was nice to have a friend in this wild world.