[hr]
[center][b]Chat History: Ava Villarosa (Carrera Condor)[/b][/center]
[indent][indent][b]Ava Villarosa (Carrera Condor)[/b]: [i]Shame we had to disappear so fast after Argentina. Was looking forward to a little friendly tango. Swing and miss, huh... Revanche at Brazil.[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]You know I don't dance.[/i]
[b]Ava Villarosa (Carrera Condor)[/b]: [i]Oh, you will.[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]What happened back there anyway?[/i]
[b]Ava Villarosa (Carrera Condor)[/b]: [i]Fiery fans. Felt at home, did you?[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]I'm not going to answer that.[/i]
[b]Ava Villarosa (Carrera Condor)[/b]: [i]Oh you will do that too...[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: Meet me at [encrypted].[/indent][/indent]
[hr]
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[hr]
[hider=Summary]
Hamid reflects on his relationship with Kais as Al-Saqr regroups after the Argentine riots. In Brazil, the team strategizes while Kais participates in a graffiti art segment with the Delta Hyper crew. After qualifying and the race, Kais asks Hamid for tango lessons... for a date with Ava Villarosa. A date which turns... [i]fiery[/i].
[/hider]
[hr]
They had flown from Buenos Aires in haste. [i][color=orange]"We need to go."[/color][/i] Kais had said in the calm before the storm, just before the riots truly kicked off, his soldier's sixth sense for these things tingling. The team knew to listen, and Al-Saqr had managed to stay ahead of most of the chaos. And now, sitting in their team H2-plane, Hamid Atlassi rubbed his eyes. [i]What a headache[/i], he thought. He watched the Abu Dhabi sprawl come into view. That helped a bit. 

Hamid had never really gotten into contact with violence before. Indeed, Hamid's entire family had never really been impacted by the Water Wars. Au contraire: the Atlassi Shipping Dynasty in Casablanca had thrived throughout it all. They stayed perfectly untouched, their wealth and connections protecting them from what had consumed Egypt, Jordan, Sudan, and most of the Gulf's splinter states. His grandfather, was an obvious choice to contribute to the Union's reconstruction efforts. Strong-armed? Perhaps. Profitable? Definitely. Years of war-time premiums provided the budding Union's shipping and supply priorities. And in said wealth, Hamid, son of the Atlassi shipping dynasty, had grown up. He attended the finest academies with only the most Union-approved Elite curricula. He raced go-karts on literal gold-paved private tracks. And a place at what would eventually become Al-Saqr's junior programme was as good as guaranteed.

And now, here he was, sharing a team with a man who had [i]fought[/i] people like his family and peers, who believed in the Union and worked to make it happen. Hamid gritted his teeth and glanced across to where Kais sat. Eyes closed, standby-light of his neural link pulsing lightly at his neck, just above where his previous life's barcode was... Or was it truly his previous life? Who knew... Even the Ministry probed him about it every time they could. The Union was right to be cautious, Hamid thought. But there was also something else to Hamid. [i]Infuriatingly[/i] so: Kais was [i]fast[/i]. Faster than Hamid. Tends to happen when the fear instinct is genetically handicapped, he supposed. But... when his neural link sync levels were in the high-90s? Hamid knew that meant even their flying brick could be rammed into the Top-3s of the Delta Hyper leaderboard. 

[i]If[/i] the Union could find a way to harness [i]that[/i]...

Hamid shook his head and returned to his chess app. He was playing against Farouk, the pit drone controller. Farouk had spent many lunch breaks with Kais and Nadia, practicing. Seemed it had paid off. Hamid was losing badly. He sighed and resigned. He looked at his watch, a Talaq24 white-gold piece, gift from one of his sponsors to match his bleached hair, then turned to the man in front of him. Kais had said nothing during the entire journey. He rarely did, these days. Since Layla's... incident, the man had retreated even deeper into himself, communicating mostly in grunts and angry stares. Hamid found it infuriating. Genetic enhancement after genetic enhancement, neural integration, backing of the Union's resources rivaling his own for reasons just as infuriating, and he spent his time [i]brooding[/i]... 

Hamid's tablet pinged: message from the Arabic Union's Ministry of Culture. [i]Progress is as desired. Continue as briefed. Report any unusual events.[/i] The Ministry called his role at Al-Saqr crucial, 'Cultural outreach'. That is: someone has to be the team face, actually talk to the sponsors, making sure their investments in the team produced results beyond the leaderboard. But Hamid had his suspicions. He deleted it without responding. 

[hr]
Back at Al-Saqr island, Omar commandeered a conference room for a high-prio strategy meeting. About São Paolo. About the current situation, and how best to exploit it. There even were rumors some opposing team's kit was damaged in the riots.

"The other teams have caught some flak. Perfect timing. We just have to keep our head down. Now we're [i]so[/i] close." Omar started, his glasses reflecting the standings that were displayed on the holographic glass pane in the center of the briefing room table. The gap to Valkyrie had narrowed to single digits. 

"Carrera is... preoccupied. Their fans nearly tore them apart. Their media team is making overtime. Should give us some breathing room." Omar continued. "Southern Cross is out of reach unless both [i]their[/i] ships crash, which I deem unlikely. I can only imagine their safety setup after the Luna event. And Valkyrie is performing consistently." He paused. He tapped the display. "Fourth place we can hold. Maybe even challenge for third. The constructors championship may be in reach if we play this right." He turned to Hamid. "Which brings me to you."

Hamid straightened. He could feel the weight of the room's attention on him. The engineers, the analysts, Kais's dark eyes digging into the side of his head.

"DNF in Belgium. P10 in Germany. P9 in Hawaii. P20 in Singapore, and now P5 Argentina." Omar ticked off the results on his fingers. "You're improving. But we're going to need you in the top seven at least. Consistently. Beat who you can." 

Remi Tewe continued "The new telemetry is showing Hamid's neural integration almost at eighty percent efficiency. It's promising data, but at these speeds I don't know if 80 would cut it in the long run. There's a reason Layla pushed herself to get into the high-90s."

"I understand," Hamid said, his voice artificially steady. "I can do it. I'll get in touch with Nadia to schedule some more sync sessions, and I'll talk to doctor Nasri, see what we can..."

[color=orange]"What about Apex?"[/color] Kais interrupted out of the blue. He hadn't moved from his position against the wall, arms crossed, face unreadable.

Omar's smile faded. "Apex is Amy. She'll win this race. Probably the next one too. But she's not unbeatable."

[color=orange]"That's not what I meant. She asked if our neural links were acting up."[/color]

A moment passed between the team principal and the ex-supersoldier, something Hamid wasn't privy to.

"She was fishing for something," Omar said finally. "It's what she does."

Kais uncrossed his arms, pushing off from the wall. [color=orange]"She knew something. Or suspected something. And with what happened with Layla--"[/color]

"Layla's situation is contained." Omar's voice was sharp. "There's no reason to believe..."

[color=orange]"No reason?"[/color] Kais's voice sharpened now, something Hamid had rarely heard from the usually stoic pilot. [color=orange]"We saw code disappear from our own ship's networks, Omar. After what happened with Layla. Code that looked suspiciously like it came from the same source that Carrera got theirs from. And Amy, of all people, asks about neural link malfunctions? At a private event? That's not coincidence. I'm suggesting Amy isn't just racing us. She's studying us. And using it against us."[/color]

"The security team is looking into it," Omar said. "In the meantime, we race. Score points. We don't give Amy, or anyone else, reason to look closer." He turned back to the displays, dismissing the topic with the next slide. "Now. Let's talk Brazil. Yasif has been running simulations on the energy harvesting in sectors 2 and 3, and..."

Hamid tuned out. His mind was preoccupied with Amy's question. 

"And one more thing," Omar said. "The Delta Hyper crew wants footage for their São Paulo episode. Graffiti wall in one of the favelas, local artists, the whole deal." He looked at Kais. "They requested you. Something about your 'artistic side.'"

Kais's jaw tightened. [color=orange]"I don't have an artistic side."[/color]

"You do now," Omar said. "Smile for the cameras, both of you. We need every bit of positive coverage we can get."

[hr]
[center][color=gold][h1]DELTΔ HYPER[/h1]
[h2]Episode 15: The Art of Racing[/h2][/color][/center]

[quote]"My question is, how will you leave your mark, like Senna on that wall?....[/quote]

The Delta Hyper cam-drones captured every angle, every expression. Every artful moment. Or whatever came close to it, Hamid thought as he put on a camera-ready smile as he waved with his spraycan. He looked around for someplace showy. Someplace center-like. Ah, perfect! Now then... What to paint? It'd have to be something safe, more or less. A little bit of edge, but it'd have to be something Omar would be pleased with. Something the sponsors would like to reply to underneath their socials. Something that would look nice in the Ministry's reports. Maybe just the Falcon, in Union-colors. Hamid had been looking forward to working for them most of his life, after all.

He glanced at Kais... Who stood before his canvas. Just [i]standing[/i] there. It seemed apt, and Hamid couldn't help snickering imagining Kais' mark on the wall just be cracks from an angry punch. After all, what else could a leftover war-machine possibly-- then, Kais started moving. He picked up a spraycan. Black, of course, and painted the whole damn wall with it. Typical, Hamid thought. Then, orange trails sprayed across. Hamid wandered over to watch. "What did you make?" He dared ask after a while.

[color=orange]"Meteor shower across the night sky. I wanted something hopeful."[/color] Kais finally took the can of blue spray paint. [color=orange]"Make a wish."[/color]

Hamid looked up at him with surprise. Then Kais added dots. Stars. A moon, maybe. 

Kais nodded. And that meant it was perfect.

[hr]

Hamid sat in his room, reviewing the livestream of the interviews. 

[quote]"Kais, we've seen Al-Saqr adapt as the season break has passed, and there's lots of speculation about the mid season change for the ever-loved Layla Al-Nadir being replaced by Hamid Atlassi. Do you think the fans are confident that Hamid is the right replacement for her?"[/quote]

He thought about the PR of Layla's "retirement." Low-key. Respectful. Its words carefully erased, replaced and blurred by three different legal teams: 'Health concerns requiring immediate attention. The team wishes her the best in her recovery. No further comment at this time.' No mention of the experimental modifications that had pushed her past human limits and... Just 'health concerns'. The fans had sent flowers. Messages. Every variation of get well soon to a woman that only her AI assistant would read. Of course the question of her replacement had to come at some point.

Hamid found himself leaning forward, suddenly very interested in the answer. But Kais' expression revealed nothing. That same damn stone-cold face he wore for everything. 

[color=orange]"Layla is irreplaceable,"[/color] Kais said, and Hamid felt something twist in his chest.

Kais leaned forward slightly. [color=orange]"But the fans can be confident in one thing,"[/color] Kais said. [color=orange]"Al-Saqr doesn't give up. We don't stop pushing. Hamid is learning. And when he's ready... you'll see what we can do."[/color]

He wondered if it was a slip of the tongue, but did Kais actually use 'we'? Coming from Kais, that might actually be as close to a compliment as he'd ever get. 

After qualification, Kais had more to say.

[quote]"Kais, an impressive qualifying from you, absolutely fearless! The points gap to Valkyrie still remains narrow, so do you think you'll be able to make the most of it tomorrow, in what look like mixed conditions?"[/quote]

But Hamid switched it off before he had answered. The Valkyrie comment reminded him of the conversation from the strategy meeting, and he still felt wrong about it in a way. That, and Hamid had only qualified in P10, worse than he would've wanted. Last thing he wanted was to get his face rubbed into it by [i]him[/i]. 

[hr]

The race itself had been a long battle of keeping others at bay more than anything. Rain came and went, grip levels were recalibrated. Kais clawed up to P3 behind Paul, then spent several tens of laps staring at the Belgian's rear looking for a gap that never quite came. Solid race, but not exactly what he wanted. And Hamid had performed at P7. No crash-induced luck, but still better than he expected. 

After the race, back in the team garage, Hamid went through his usual post-race routine: congratulating the winners, debrief with the engineering team, the works. By the time he came back from the medical checkup that had somehow become three times as lengthy since the Layla-incident, the garage was half-empty already, the crew taking a break before packing up began again. In the background, the broadcast sounded.

[quote]"Kais, looks like a solid performance all things considered, with a clean pass on Cassie and keeping the pressure up on Valkyrie. Your ship seems to be getting matched by Carrera on the straights more and more, how are you feeling about that?"[/quote]

[color=orange]"Yes. Good race, third place. Closing the gap. Hamid too. Seventh. Points."[/color] Kais had shrugged, [color=orange]"Let Carrera come for us. We'll take them."[/color] Then he rushed off. Even in the cooldown room he seemed preoccupied by something. 

He was still there in the garage. Kais too had gone through medical. But now he stood by his ship, the number 17. One hand resting on the since-cooled down hull, his expression... unreadably stone-cold. It was a ritual Hamid had noticed before, a moment between him and his ship that felt too private to intrude on. So Hamid walked on by. Thinking about it, Hamid thought he had seen it done before by someone else too. Layla...?

Then Kais turned and spoke.

[color=orange]"Hamid?"[/color]

"Kais?" Hamid swallowed. Kais hadn't been the nicest to him at the best of times. But recently it had gotten even worse. He was sure it would be some sort of admonishment, or even a helpful put-down. [i]If[/i] he was lucky.

[color=orange]"You know how to dance, right?"[/color]

Hamid almost choked on his own spit as a combination of a surprised laugh and a [i]very[/i] confused gasp escaped him. "Yeah...?" He managed. 

[color=orange]"Tango?"[/color]

Hamid's pause lengthened. Then his grin widened. "Aaahh, but of course, ami..." He took on a dramatic pose, left arm outstretched left, the other embracing an imaginary partner. "But I thought you'd be more of a marching-man."

[color=orange]"I don't care what you think. Can you [i]teach[/i] me?"[/color]

Hamid fell silent. Then he started pacing. "No way. No way. You've got to be kidding me." Hamid started pacing around, unsure what to do with himself. "[i]You[/i] got yourself a date? Mr. Scowls Zenix himself?"

"Tonight, your room. Don't step on my toes." Kais turned to walk away. Then turned back. "And [i]don't tell anyone[/i]."

[hr]
Hamid's room was comfortable if a bit empty. Team-standard accommodations, nothing like what his family's money could have bought him. It was the curse of constantly having to move here and there, of course, but he had given it a twist of his own: his pre-Al Saqr medals and awards hang out near a holographic display cycling through family photos, and a collection of vintage vinyl records he'd gotten shipped for the occasion sat in the corner. He wondered why he even go this extra mile, but figured since it wasn't often that he could humble their Kais Zenix, he'd better put in some effort. He pushed the furniture against the walls to clear the center, then opened the door when it rang. [color=orange]"Hamid..."[/color] "Kais..." The usual greeting. Hamid watched Kais enter, still wearing his team hoodie underneath his biker's jacket, looking profoundly uncomfortable.

"So... who is the lucky lady?" Hamid asked, unable to resist.

Kais shot him a glance that could kill.

"Or the unlucky one, I won't judge."

Kais started taking off his jacket. "Villarosa."

"Villarosa? The Amazon giantess?" Hamid snickered, picturing the two of them, with Ava's six-foot-plus frame next to Kais's more compact build. "You want me to teach you the follower's part, then, or wha--?"

[color=orange]"No."[/color]

"Of course not." Hamid quickly said. "How could I mistake you for anything but the gentleman."

Hamid unbuttoned his pinstriped dress shirt's sleeves, rolling them up as he moved to his collection, selecting a record. Crackle and noise. Then the first melancholic notes of the bandoneón started their lesson. 

"First things first. Wear something nice. No hoodies. Second of all," Hamid positioned himself in front of Kais, breathed in. How would he possibly teach this to [i]him[/i]? He inhaled and braced himself. "Tango isn't about steps. It's about the feeling." 

[color=orange]"This is stupid. Feelings get people killed."[/color] Kais muttered.

"It also gets them kissed." Hamid grinned knowingly. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We'll start with the embrace." Hamid moved in, then was taken aback when he saw Kais' face shooting lightning. "Alright..." Hamid held his distance, and instead only struck the pose. "Look. Your right hand on her back, her left hand on your shoulder. Her right hand in yours."[/color]

Hamid began to walk through the Tango basic 8-step, open-step-cross-resolution. "Don't rush through it. And don't push or pull. Just make your intention known with this here..." he pointed at the Al-Saqr falcon splayed across his hoodie's chest. "From the chest, bang, straight out. She has to feel your intention."

For the next hour, they worked through the basics. The [i]ocho[/i] figure eights, the [i]parada[/i] to signal a pause in her step, even a little embellishment here and there, with Kais' commenting they were a [color=orange]"waste of energy"[/color], much to Hamid's amusement. But most of all it was awkward and uncomfortable and nothing like anything Kais had ever done.

"Don't overthink it," Hamid eventually said. He moved in, grabbed Kais' hands into the tango embrace to show what he meant, then started sweating when he realized what he had just done. His whince lasted a few seconds that felt like hours before he realized that he wasn't getting punched in the face... The man actually [i]let[/i] him.

"Look," He said carefully. "You're trying to [i]control[/i] everything. But that's not how it works. You don't [i]win[/i] a tango, yeah? Just... be there. With her. In the moment. [i]Enjoy[/i] it."[/color]

Kais thought about it, then said. [color=orange]"Again... Show me the turn one more time."[/color]

At the end of the lesson, Kais nodded once, curtly. [color=orange]"Hamid."[/color]

"Yes?"

[color=orange]"Thanks."[/color]

The younger pilot blinked, clearly not expecting that. "You're... welcome?" Hamid smiled, and decided to slap Kais on the shoulder. 

[color=orange]"Don't push it, junior."[/color] Kais responded.

[hr]
[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjE3OC5mMTk5MGEuUzJGcGN5QmFaVzVwZUEuMA/creattion-demo.regular.webp[/img][/center]
[hr]
[center][b]Soundtrack[/b]: [b][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3ASIYixqUI]
Carmen Goett - La Llorona[/url][/b][/center]

The address Ava had sent led to a small club in the Liberdade district. Unassuming brick, blaring music and fog machines turned up to 11 that drowned out his approach. [i]At the back. 2nd floor. Private suite.[/i] 

And at the back, up at the 2nd floor, at said private suite, Ava Villarosa stood in the doorway. Her curly hair was pulled back, her gaze ready for business, her dress... tactical.

"Zenix."

[color=orange]"Ava."[/color]

Kais entered. Ava looked back out the door, closed it, locked it, then swiveled to face him.

"What happened to Layla? Is it true? [i]IS[/i] she braindead?"

Kais stopped in his track. His posture grounded. 

[color=orange]"I don't take kindly to paddock gossip, Ava... Where did you hear that?"[/color]
"I don't believe for a second you care about gossip. You're hiding something. I'm going to give you a chance. And don't play games with me Zenix. Bea [i]knows[/i]."
[color=f7941d]"Bea? How--?"[/color]
"How?" Ava laughed, and there was no humor in it. "Bea's been different... Scared of something. Did you see her at the Singapore dinner? Didn't even say goodbye. Not even to me. I thought we were losing her. She mentioned things. Things she couldn't possibly know unless..."
[color=orange]"Unless someone was broadcasting..."[/color] Kais whispered, and remained silent.
"Layla. Braindead. You. She mentioned you, Kais. Like you were involved in something." Ava stepped closer.
The silence stretched.
[color=f7941d]"You're right,"[/color] Kais said finally. [color=orange]"Layla had... [i]something[/i] happen to her..."[/color] he said carefully. [color=orange]"Neural feedback loop overloaded her after Montreal. She's... non-responsive. Moved to a research facility. The team is doing everything they can to help her."[/color]
"And you didn't think to tell anyone? To tell [i]me[/i]?"
[color=orange]"What would I have told, huh? That Layla pushed herself so hard she burned out her own brain? Or that we found disappeared code in our systems afterwards. Fragments that might have been planted by a competitor? By Apex' data dump? Or should I say [i]yours[/i]?"[/color] 
Ava's jaw tightened. Her posture shifted. Things were personal now. "You want to talk about that data dump? About things being [i]planted[/i]? Fine." Her voice dropped. 
"Twelve years ago. Atacama Lithium Extraction Facility. I was fresh out of flight school, running patrol there for the Air Force, joint Union peacekeeping op." She laughed with a bitter edge. "And then, one night, the facility just went dark. Gunfire over the comms. By the time we scrambled, it was over. Seventeen dead. Workers. Security. And..." She stopped.
"And?" Kais prompted quietly.
"And Reya." The name came out as if she had to force it out. "Reya Vásquez. Comms officer. Overnight shifter at the relay station. And she was [i]mine[/i]. Used to talk to her over the radio all the time. We were supposed to meet after her rotation ended, you know... Have breakfast. Watch the sunset." Ava's hands curled into fists at her sides.
"The official report was mostly classified. But in there were some small clues. Strange DNA markers in the forensic traces." Ava's eyes locked onto his. "Yours. Traced it right back to the leaked genebank heritage that was in that Apex dump. So don't lie to me!" She stepped closer, close enough that he could see the slight tremor in her augmented arm. "Was it you at Atacama? WAS IT YOU, ZENIX?"
[hr]
[hider=Flashback: S-Vet Meeting, Years Ago]
The 'Circle of Confidence' was held in a run-down hospital cellar this month. 

Inan was already there when Kais arrived. ION-2-02. The supersoldier, older by three birthing cycles, sat with his back to the wall, eyeing every entrance and exit. Old habits die hard. So too were their habits to uses coded speech, subtext more than anything, to stay under the radar of the therapist-slash-surveillance monitor that was supposed to lead their little circle of checkups. Kais sat down, handing him a cup of badly-made coffee. 

[color=orange]"Brother."[/color] Kais sat next to him, gesturing at his scarred face. [color=orange]"How's the eye?"[/color] ([i]How's the surveillance?[/i])
"Still lazy in the mornings. The doctors say it's normal." ([i]Still active, like always.[/i]) Inan shrugged. "Doctor prescribed some exercises. It helps." ([i]I manage.[/i])
"The weather's been rough lately, hasn't it?" Inan said. ([i]Security has tightened, hasn't it?[/i])
[color=orange]"Strange, for this time of year,"[/color] Kais replied. ([i]Uncharacteristic.[/i])
They drank in silence for a moment. Then Yusuf turned to Inan. "How's the singing going?" ([i]How's the singing going.[/i])
Inan's expression softened slightly, one of the few genuine reactions Kais had seen from him since the rehabilitation. He had indeed been singing. "Better. The therapist said something about it using different parts of the brain. It helps with... processing" He paused. "I've been learning the kind of songs they used to play in the villages before, you know... [i]everything[/i]."
[color=orange]"You any good?"[/color] ([i]You any good?[/i])
"Terrible." A ghost of a smile. "But that's not really the point, is it?"
"You remember the Tarek brothers? Batch Seven? Too bad they stopped coming to these meetings..." ([i]Of course you remember, but did you notice someone else missing?[/i])
[color=orange]"Shame. You reckon they got lost?"[/color] ([i]Salim. Did he go private, out of Union control?[/i])
"Heard they had an accident down in Leb-anon." ([i]Op in a Latin-American mine. Died.[/i])
[color=orange]"Unfortunate."[/color] ([i]Who benefited?[/i]) Kais sipped his coffee.
Inan sighed. "Amazing how people can come together after adversity, huh?" ([i]Union?[/i])
[/hider]
[hr]
[color=orange]"It wasn't me,"[/color] Kais said finally. [color=orange]"I was still in rehabilitation when Atacama happened. Neural reconditioning. You can check the records. I didn't know about Atacama. Not specifically. But I've heard... rumors, about some of us who were approached, reprogrammed for jobs that created instability in resource-rich regions. The kind that justified... consolidation."[/color] Kais repeated. [color=orange]"If someone from my batch was at Atacama, they weren't acting alone. And they weren't acting for themselves."[/color]

Kais thought about his experience. [color=orange]"And... I think I am starting to understand something else."[/color]

Ava scoffed. "Enlighten me."

[color=orange]"You found those files in Apex's data dump. The same dump that contained code fragments we think might have caused Layla's accident. The same code that might have tripped you up at Luna. Now Bea's been acting strange."[/color] He began pacing, his tactical mind fully engaging with the puzzle. 

[color=orange]"Someone, Amy perhaps, or whoever's pulling her strings, is seeding information. Specific information. Targeted at each of us."[/color]

Ava's eyes narrowed. "What, you're saying she [i]wanted[/i] me to find those records?"

[color=orange]"I'm saying [i]someone[/i]'s playing divide and conquer. You get files that make you suspect me. Bea gets something that makes her paranoid. Layla's neural integration gets tripped into overdrive. And now we're all busy fighting each other..."[/color] He looked at his own hands, [color=orange]"or fighting ourselves..."[/color] He looked up at Ava, [color=orange]"...that we never look up to see who's behind it."[/color]

"Pretty words, Zenix. Deflects blame nicely. But pretty words are easy. Reya is still dead. Layla is still..." She gestured vaguely, then shook her head, and walked to the door. There would be no resolution here. And yet, her hand rested on the handle for a long moment.

[color=orange]"I understand. You don't trust me. I don't blame you."[/color]

"I don't think you do understand, Zenix." Now she looked back, and her expression was something Kais had seen before. On battlefields. On people who had nothing left to lose. "You expect me to form a unified front, against what, a three-time champion? Against whatever shadow corporation is backing her experiments? Or against [i]you[/i]?"

She breathed in. Opened the door. Looked back one last time. "I told you to stay in the light, Zenix. You have no idea what's coming."

She left. The door closed behind her. No tango was done that night.
[hr]
When Kais finally left the club, he could still feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Somewhere out there, Amy Stirling was three steps ahead of all of them all the time. Amy had played them. Or whoever was above her. Feeding them bits of info, then watching them tear each other apart while the real game played out beyond their grasp. But there was no reason the game's rules couldn't be changed on her. 

He pulled out his PDA and began to type.

[center][b]Message to: ION-2-02 (Inan)[/b][/center]
[indent][indent][b]Kais[/b]: [i]I need to know whatever you can find out about Samir's contract. Who recruited him. Who paid him. Who gave the orders for Atacama.[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]Someone is using what happened there against us. I need to know who, and I need to know fast.[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]This might be our chance to make something right. Or at least to stop other bad things from happening.[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]Are you in?[/i][/indent][/indent]
[hr]
He stared at the screen for a moment, then opened a new conversation thread.

[center][b]Group Message to: Paul Mulder (Valkyrie), Beatrix Ward (Carrera)[/b][/center]
[indent][indent][b]Kais[/b]: [i]This isn't a social call. I need to know if either of you have experienced anything strange with your ships. Glitches. Memory bleeds. Unexplained system behavior. Data leaks.[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]I'm asking because I think someone is using our augmentations against us. Feeding us information designed to turn us against each other.[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]Amy knows something. About all of us. And I don't think she's the only one.[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]If we're going to figure out what's happening, we need to stop being isolated targets.[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]I think we're all in more danger than we realize. And I'd rather face it together.[/i]
[b]Kais[/b]: [i]Let me know if you're willing to talk. I'll make sure it's somewhere secure.[/i][/indent][/indent]
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He sent both messages before he could second-guess himself.
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