[b][color=#63C732]Gin Silti[/color][/b]

Gin swore as he watched the race from a seat at a bar. Next to him was Jim Valerian, his human manager over at Gaelok Industries. He was going hard on Belatoni whiskey, a drink that only Belatonins could properly digest. Jim had offered him some to which he declined, as he wanted to keep his wits. After all he was supposed to be racing. He was supposed to premiere as a pro racer in the very race he was watching on the screen on the wall.

Gin ordered another drink, something the humans called cola. The massive amounts of sugar within were helping keep Gin alert. But besides being alert, Gin was also mad. He had only been involved with Gaelok Industries for a few months now, but he was already getting tired of them. While they did make it a big deal to have their own racers in this tournament, they didn’t seem to help their racers.

Gin had arrived on Mevalo a few days back, taking a civilian shuttle. His racer, Stinger-Six, was currently at a Gaelok station, where they were apparently modifying it for terrestrial racing. Usually it would be Gin who made any modifications to his racer, but the heads at Gaelok insisted that their own team of mechanics perform the modifications. Now it had been a few days and Gin hadn’t heard anything about his racer.

As Gin finished his cola, a ping sounded on Jim’s comm-pad. The drunken manager tapped his pad, bringing up a message.

“Wow, good news,” he slurred.

[color=#63C732]“What?”[/color] Gin asked.

“So turns out, they finished work on Stinger-Six. And they’re sending it here.”

[color=#63C732]“When?”[/color] Gin asked excitedly.

“Like right now,” Jim said with a smile, “Like they’re coming down to landing pad four right now.”

[color=#63C732]“Well then,”[/color] Gin stood up and grabbing Jim, [color=#63C732]“Let’s get going. Pay your tab.”[/color]

“Well you see the thing is,” Jim laughed, “Gaelok hasn’t paid me this week yet, so I’m kind of low on credits.”

Gin sighed, before placing down enough of his own credits to pay for both of them. He then dragged Jim out of the bar and into the busy street. Thanks to a lot of people being at the races themselves, the street was not quite as packed as usual. Due to that Gin was able to hail a hover cab.

Pushing Jim into the cab, the android driver turned to him and asked, “Where you headed to?”

[color=#63C732]“Landing pad four please,”[/color] Gin replied.

“Alright, but that’ll take us past the race course. I just heard that the first race is now down, so that are will be swimming with traffic soon.”

Gin sighed once again. While traffic was annoying, not knowing what was up with his racer was more annoying. So he just sat back and zoned out for the duration of the ride, Jim falling asleep next to him on account of the Belatoni whiskey.