FourtyTwo

Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP) (COMPLETED)

Vulpine Space Command Centre, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

Suited and Booted

0800 Hours

Skye watched as the team got ready, Purna coming back in. Sam was right, these were bulky, modernised sure, but EVA suits were always going to have the weight that came with life support systems. Vulpine had clearly gone for bulk over cheaper, thinner models as a form of longevity, that compromise came with more modular spacesuits that alone must have cost hundreds of thousands of Euros. That thought went, as Skye smiled at the smaller Nepali.

"Thanks, by the way. Both you and Eloise did good." Skye added, as Purna nodded, a smile back. He was quiet, and understated.
"My pleasure. It was tough with Bakker, but....we did what we do best. Heard what happened and....well, fuck. As if you weren't there enough to this mess. Go get it done, Queen. Still seems to be you in there."
"Thanks. Look after yourself. When we're back, go have yourself some time off. Enjoy those things you talked about. Life's more than slitting throats." Skye added, knowing his history, Purna nodding in return.
"It is. We need that world to exist first. Good luck." Purna added, as Skye smiled, letting him move on as he had another group to attend to, moving across.

She next saw Adam come back in, exo still on, rifle in hand, mind on the mission still.
"You guys ready?"
"Almost."
"Good, just wanted to say, with what happened...."
"I know, not ideal."
"No, not really. But you're still in there. And don't let it distract." Adam added, as Skye reached out, and hugged him, sighing.
"Look, sorry. I probably should have forgiven you."
"You don't have to say anything. You have this. We'll sort out the mess down here. There is a lot of mess, Skye. Go get this done and we'll talk in a bar, in Scotland, when this is finished." Adam replied, Skye giving a silent nod, as him moving away revealed one last person that wanted to say goodbye.

Tahlia, who reached up and hugged Skye, sighing hard.
"How the fuck did we get here? I mean, you managed to coax my arse into fighting, sniping people...we were in a hairy one earlier, but got out of it. Bloody hell, Skye." The Kiwi uttered, almost disapointed with Skye, but the Scot knew that Tahlia was happy to be along.

"Saving the world business, Tarly. We do it well. You do it well. Nice work out there. And you got Shimura out alive too. Thought he was a goner. Look after them while I'm away, yeah?" Skye asked, as Tahlia nodded, resting an arm on her boss's shoulder.

"Sure. What's a rocket launch to us? So yeah....see ya later." Skye with it, felt the embrace of the sniper, the mobile bush nodding as she gave a salute, and moved away. On that note, Skye moved up to the truck, and where people were getting moved into it, via the portable lift that was Athena.

Athena was keeping her eye on something in the meantime, where she pretended to do something else, loading a crate up into the truck. Seeing Eloise walk over, Athena casually picked her up when close enough and put her on the back seat, leaning in, her head level still at Eloise's chest in spite of the rise on the truck.

"There you go, Eloise. Uhh.....well, given we're both alive, I thought I'd mention....I saw that origami on the suit this morning. Do you know how many people send fan mail? Drunk guys try it on? You have any idea how many comments I've had about my arse?" Athena looked around, as if she forgot she was the tallest person in the room outside of Freya. It sounded scary at first. But Athena meant well.

"That's the cutest thing I've seen anyone do. And I know that took a lot of thought on your side. So if we come home, just say the word if you want to go out sometime. Because....nobody's ever done that. Not when I can see how you feel, you see through that. I might be a giant but I can see through people, even quiet infiltrators, you know. You don't have to say anything....just know, I appreciate it and beyond all this, there's someone in there that's got time for a romantic." The blonde smiled, knowing she let on a little more than perhaps anyone was typically used to, especially given her poster-girl image to the other mercs. There was a little bit of a socialite in there, perhaps, someone who knew how to talk.

Athena turned around hearing other footsteps coming, seeing Skye struggle to clamber onto the truck, Athena straight up picking her up and pushing her in, before offering a hand to Ebrima, turning and casually just picking him up like a weight anyway, heaping him onto the bench.
"Heard you talking shit about me." Athena glared into his eyes with a deadpan look, before a smile cracking, her visor and helmet opened still.
"Wouldn't be the first one either. But....if you want a job after this is all done, I know a Managing Director who might be hiring for miserable looking mercs chasing a paycheck. Or is that less your thing these days? I mean, I heard you were done with this...." Athena giggled, knowing she was being annoying, as she turned and punted Sam up, before clambering in.

"You playing fair, Valkyrie? I thought we said you'd stop talking bollocks?" Skye asked, as Athena shook her head.
"Hey, he star..." Athena started, as Skye looked at her, then at Ebrima.
"I swear, the Service would just have me whoop out a can of kick ass on both of you, but I'm out of body and out of my fucking mind with this whole mess. Go fuck or fight it out already. But we have a version of me to wipe clean first before you do." Skye held her authoritive, sharp tone with more than a little tongue in cheek knowing she could pull that joke on them, as she slid along, looking to Eloise, the small framed light perhaps not the first pick for something like this, but something Skye recognised as required for this particular job.

"Anyway. Don't mind those two. Looks like you're holding up well, despite....well, what went down. Glad you got it done, and trust me, Purna appreciates you a lot more than he'll let slip. You know how it is." Skye added, exhaling, checking the SIG MCX in right hand, laser attached to it, adopted mag carrier on front of suit, and stock folded in.

"We've got this, Archer. I know it seems like a lot of weight up here, but up there, you'll know how to move like a cat better than anyone. I saw it in your preliminaries in our testing. So when it comes to it, you'll make it work." Skye reassured her, knowing with each member of the team, she had to take on a different approach, as she looked over to Sam, giving a nod back, knowing she was going through in her mind all the steps involved in what was next. No doubt it would be a lot, but Skye trusted her with technical bits, knowing the lengths Sam went to in order to get it right.

With it all done, Adam stepped into the driver's seat and turned the key, and off to the launch pad they went.

On the way, Athena turned to Freya, smiling, wrapping an arm around her. Athena had gone for a M2 Browning she'd looted off a dead heavy on their way in, with a top up of her movement jets and her missile systems for good measure via a supply drop.
"Sis, this is fucking insane, I mean...this must be something you were dreaming of, right? Always dreamed of being an astronaut when you were little, and I guess you got it?" Athena chuckled, asking her, the golden retriever not entirely leaving her, as she looked her up and down, smile still etched on.
"We got this. Battering fucking ram. Save the world. Get home. Then we gotta talk about finding JamJam someone to love too, right?" Athena kept it light, in spite of just how insane the stakes were, beyond the two mechs on fire still in the launch pad opposite their rocket, and the absolute carnage that looked like an army had run through here, instead of just a dozen highly trained black-ops, special forces degenerates.

---

Launch Pad, inside an Arianne 7, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

T-Minus.....Raven One

0830 Hours

Walking out as the lift opened doors, the feeling was just ridiculous. Like something in the movies, Skye, Ebrima, Eloise, Sam walked across the gantry, and with it, past the door, and into the upward facing seats, through the mesh-lined metal and into a straight up rocketship. Helmets in hand, they'd go on as soon as they were sat, and with the bulky backpacks, they'd be ready for EVA activities the moment they got out, once in orbit.

Athena and Freya were inside the cargo hold of the hybrid crewed capsule and satellite carrier, a novel design that would be like sitting inside a sardine tin for the two giants. A little like the Space Shuttle's doors, the system was designed for an orbiting crew to release a small satellite manually, particularly those with complicated folding and instrumentation. That was now two giantesses in armour.

Clambering in, Skye harnessed herself up, exhaling hard, looking to Sam, helmet on. A rudimentary HUD was on her visor, that bit significantly updated over older spacesuits.
"Alright then. All you, Sam. Give Keller signal we're ready, and she'll sends us to the stars.....and hopefully on Rose's X." Skye added, exhaling hard, and looking forwards to the displays and panels, the AR and LCD panels around dislaying readouts, and most of all, the condition of this.

They were nearly ready. And as Keller stayed on the comms with Sam, she'd no doubt give the go signal. And that countdown.
"Anyone else feeling like they're a child again?" Skye joked, knowing that perhaps in more ways than one, that had a meta, literal and rather figurative meaning.

DELTΔ HYPER (Anti-Gravity Racing, Cyberpunk/Solarpunk RP)

Sunday July 2nd, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1532 EST

Friendship

Jen hugged back, screaming with joy, happy to see her old friend come by. Bea was always a ball of energy, and the day they'd talked about for years had finally happened. Nobody expected Jen to be the first of the two up there, but here she was.

"Amazing! Oh my god, it's the best thing! I mean, wasn't expecting it but yeah, this is surreal!" Jen replied back, giggling with the energy back, letting Bea lead her on, towards where the cameras were, the two captured together.

"Oh, I don't even know where I'll put it.....definitely over the fireplace, me mam and dad would be so proud!" Her honesty bled through, as she grinned, playing back with Bea.

"Soon you'll get one too, eh?" She beamed, grinning, before breaking away, the cameras beckoning her, and in for her interview, going ahead and off in front.

---

Sunday July 2nd, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1545 EST

Halfway Point

Back in the studio, the three hosts of Delta Hyper sat around the table, the background of the circuit and the fans slowly peeling away, as the trophy lift was made.

"Wow, what amazing scenes we're seeing today. Rosie, how did you find that?"

"Yeah, what a rollercoaster. Zygon's disqualification, a last minute dash from Jen Lowry into what we thought was fifth, Amy's crack under pressure. You just can't predict it, can you?" Rosie replied, as

"No doubt, and well, Paul Mulder getting his first that way, even in spite of it will feel earned. What a result, and he is beaming." Rory added, the other pundit picking this up.

"Certainly, and no doubt, we are likely to see plenty more from him in the future, as Valkyrie begin to stabilise. With the crash of both Silver Apex ships, Owen Keating at Southern Cross must be gleeful too?" Rory asked Rosie, as the chirpy presenter took a moment to think, in pundit terms.

"Of course, but it still could be anyone's season, and halfway, the gap is more than closable. There is a lot to play for, and Silver Apex seeing their success must have decided enough is enough. A rare crash from Amy is one thing, but Jamie was definitely at fault there. It has to be said, his crash was silly, but he was making good moves to go up the grid. What a shame, because somewhere in there is a good AG racer, but is it just that second seat at Silver Apex, Rory?"

"Perhaps, but we shall see what comes of the rumours. Aurora, what did you think about Jen Lowry's progress up the grid?"

"Outstanding! Just wow, and well, with all that talk, I do wonder if the rumours are true...."

"Ah, you know how these things go! I'm signing for Apex next!" Rory quipped, the crew laughing, a rare break in the ice, as Aurora turned to the camera, knowing it was about time to wrap this up.

"Well, sadly for our audience at home, and perhaps thankfully for the pilots, crews, and the engineering staff, Formula AG enjoys a summer break, but don't be gone too long as we'll host a summer special. Thank you for watching, and we'll see you in Belgium for some more high-octane, incredible AG racing!"

Soundtrack: NOISY- Young Dumb

The ending sequence played, and with it, from rainy qualifying to the race, the smash between Amy and the wall, Harrison, Max and Layla, Kais and Jamie, Dorian and Ulrich merging into one, followed by some of the more ballsy overtakes Jen was making, the agony, the ecstasy, the feeling of coming out on top, and the feeling of clambering out of a damaged, broken ship. Canada had it all.

---

The media was abuzz with the news of what was going down.

Because at Silver Apex, Jenny was announced, and within a few days, getting operated on. And what you knew as Jenny Lowry was being changed for something compeletely different. Ready for the top level, not the bottom. In the test tube went, and out of the end came someone who was not going a half measure. She'd want to catch up with Bea at some point, that was what the summer was for after all, but the team had kept her in and away from the media to hype anything up. She'd want to do her talking on the track, and she knew the challenge ahead was monumental.

But with new arms, legs, a reinforced spine, a neural link that blew her old ones out of the water and eyes, even going for a run felt like she just had more spring to her than she'd ever had. All AG pilots were top level specimens, but now, she was beginning to get it. And between the physical work, recovery, training and briefings behind the scenes, the feeling was clear. They had to take back the title from Southern Cross.

At Southern Cross, more media in the Southern Hemisphere winter, Harrison getting to shred down the slopes in The Remarkables outside of Queenstown, New Zealand on what was effectively, the team's winter bash at a privately hired ski resort. Apres-ski courtesy of drinks from End of the World Brewing, and the media was let in to enjoy it all. A breather after what was an explosive season. And while developing the ship was important, thanking the team that had worked their asses off to get them here was seen as a rather valuable thing. It made Southern Cross a good place to work, and the snow-filled mountains outside of Queenstown were blowing any corporate event out of the water. Because beyond that, the team was on schedule, and the next upgrades were still on track to keep them where they wanted to be. The team thrived on that attention, it brought in the sponsor money, and it kept them afloat. At the cost of maybe their original intent? Sure, but winning came with compromise.

Zygon had kept a lot of people in, and it was virtually a polar opposite. The quiet hum of techs working overtime, and the advances that Zygon had committed to earlier in the season leaping forward. A mandatory break felt like a let off, because the air was that they had to have something now that would at least give them an edge, right?

Fitzroy were sadly taking down most of their signage, the internals left as they were, but it was the end of an era. Maxwell even visited the factory, shook hands with Sally Morrigan, Team Principal, and in an almost dead silence, left it behind. Despite the success of Fitzroy Orbital, he wanted distance between this, and his son's hobby was just not going to be affordable. Henry knew that as well as anyone, and there was no love lost between him and the team, because in the end, they now had nothing left. A strange feeling to go on holiday, knowing you'd come back working for someone else, and something else.

As for Carrera, Valkyrie, Al-Saqr? Well, that's best left to their direction.

---

Sunday July 9th, 2094
1900 GMT

DELTΔ HYPER

Summer Break Special Episode

Aurora stood by the AR-enabled backdrop, this episode of Delta Hyper a little different to others. The typically chirpy Irish presenter was alone on this one, as most of the footage was archive, or at least, of current events.

"Hi all, and welcome to our Summer Break Special, and while we wait for some racing, plenty has been on the horizon in the background. Shall we see how we got here?"

And with it, a review of the season so far played out.

Soundtrack: Queens of the Stone Age- No One Knows

The initial race in Auckland, inclusive of Ulrich's crash, tight fighting between rookies and old racers respectively, and the group photo of all the pilots, in one place, at the start of it all.

The massive hit by Bea and Kais, and what ensued in the dramatic race in Cape Town with the rookies fighting it out and going toe to toe on the high-speed, high volume of scenery Lion's Head and Table Mountain.

Kais coming back to take victory in Japan, in the pouring rain with the backdrop of the evening sky of Tokyo beyond, and ships skirting around the tunnels and harbourside vistas of Tokyo.

Nora taking victory in Italy, roaring through the ice, fist pumped.

Cassie's 2nd place finish in Portugal, clashed against the fight between Paul and Amy, and the fiery mess of Ava's Carrera ship.

The crash on Luna, and the picture of Ava by Nora's side in their respective pilot suits, by their two stricken ships, with the Earth in the background.

Dorian getting carried by his Valkyrie team after a decisive victory in Monaco.

The slice through the grid Bea on the final lap at Silverstone and the big hit between Cassie and Paul.

And last but not least, the massive clatter of Amy Stirling into the wall in Canada, smacking an end to the montage with a cut to black, with Paul on the podium and Jenny Lowry enjoying her podium finish too, and Fitzroy Orbital enjoying ending on an absolute high.

If you didn't believe in Formula AG producing absolute cinema, you probably did now. All generated from the rolls of the dice, the dreams of the engineers, pilots and technical staff that made it all possible.

---

Season Review: The Teams

Aurora sat by the sofa again, footage running back over the season. Every highlight, but this time, tailored to each team.

The reels played, running through highlights of each team. A nice time to recap, if ever there was one.

"Southern Cross are in the lead of the championship, and well, what a season they've had. The plucky underdogs from New Zealand are no underdogs anymore, they seem a bona-fide force in Formula AG, and with a refurbished factory, a fan-favourite heritage and a ship that seems to flicker between untameable and unbeatable, we're seeing a team look like they will finish what they started last year. And what about Nora Kelly, the rookie who has come from nowhere, literally from the underground scene of the Outback to become a genuine world-title contender, in her very first season! The team of Kelly and the established Harrison Makara seem to be making that ship work, but with changes elsewhere on the grid, will they keep their reach on top of the championship?. Rumours abound that the partnership between the two is strained under their pressure. Chasing Stirling down for the pilots' title, one has to ask- when will tensions boil over?"

"Silver Apex have undergone lots of change, and with a ship struggling for control, they turn to Jenny Lowry, who with a Fitzroy Orbital ship has put the backmarker in places it never could have gone. Clearly the ship has potential, but with such a thin operating window, many are wondering what it takes to get the most out of it and in the right hands, put the Silverstone-based team back to the top. Many are asking- will Lowry break the curse of the second seat, or is she doomed to repeat the mistakes of her predecessor?"

"Al-Saqr are living up to their reputation as a dark horse this season, and haven't shaken that reputation as willing to cause an upset. The ship looks even more untamed than Southern Cross's, and many are wondering how on earth they are making it controllable, but many are assuming that the Arabian Union's willingness for biotechnology has provided a much needed edge. Either way, Kais Zenix has come out swinging this season despite his rookie position, and while the Egyptian may not be the most media friendly, no pilot underestimates him on the grid, despite his inconsistent results. Will we see him and Layla challenge the top two, and even make a dash for the Constructors title this year?"

"Valkyrie have been mired in scandals, and the appointment of Alexander Knight has revealed just how deep the rot has gone at the famous European superteam. Yet in spite of all the setbacks, Valkyrie have won two races this season, both in Monaco and Canada, and Paul Mulder is showing he has his father's talent. The feel good is back at Valkyrie after an incredibly rough start to the season, not helped by losing their Chief Engineer, and renowned ship designer, Felix Burkhart. Many are asking- what happens when Dorian Hornfleur retires, and what does the future hold for the Aachen-based outfit, who certainly know they will be put under pressure by the rest of the midfield?"

"Zygon hasn't had the best start to their season, after last year's difficulties in ship development, they seem to have failed to find their feet. Illegal parts in Canada took the shine off what was an up to then, high level of performance from the Seoul-base team, and it hasn't been much better behind the scenes. Cassie Neves has clearly shown sparks of talent, but the fit seems to not be there for the Scottish-Portguese pilot. Han-Hyeon Ae seems to flicker with similar consistency, and one has to ask- how long can Zygon accept such results, while avoiding scandals such as the illegal chassis modifications found in Canada? It seems like their pilots are delivering, but when will their ship and team?"

"What a journey it has been for Carrera Condor. The team's rise has been meteoric, and many put that down to Beatrix Ward and Pridwen's sponsorship of the team, capitalising on a ship platform that seems rooted on a turbulent, shaky platform that she seems to relish. Ava Villarosa, who many thought would put the ship in points-paying positions has struggled in recent races, perhaps her conservative approach contrasting against the ship's increasingly volatile feeling. Yet internal expectations are increasing for the Buenos Aires-based outfit as they take on a new lead designer, and the ultra-competitive midfield will be a tough fight against bigger, established teams that are seeking to bounce back. With major upgrades planned, Carrera seek to put it all on the line and cement their place out of the bottom of the grid- but will their pilots be able to keep putting it there, and deliver against the odds?

"Nordic Call have sadly underperformed this season, after what Erin Becker called "a bad development platform" just didn't yield any results this year. A typically high-grip, high ELS-designed ship just hasn't found either mark, and their retention of Bjorn Waldgard seems to be hurting them when they have the performance to deliver. Despite promise with Astrid Thorsdottir's podium in Japan, nearly repeating it again in Monaco before an unfortunate crash, the team's been in a slump, unable to match the upgrades from their competitors, and one has to wonder if they are looking to next year to make a resurgence, and get back on track.

"SuperCat, currently with points only scored by their Kofi Mensah trail the pack, but many are wondering where the team is going given Kofi is retiring this year. Despite being a new team, is there any fresh energy that will come in to give them a boost into the season? Even with a tech-sharing agreement with Al-Saqr, rumours abound that SuperCat's new addition to the grid is already in trouble, and they seek investment to revive what was a promising programme into a force in the midfield."

"Fitzroy Orbital seemed to be dead last. Yet Jen Lowry, who has stunned us after a rather bland first season in AG has come out swinging, in spite of her second pilot position in Fitzroy. However, we'll return to them later this programme, as they have an exciting announcement to make in collaboration with Delta Hyper."

---

FIAR and Season Event Updates

"At the most recent FIAR meeting in Nagoya, Japan a series of regulatory changes have been proposed. To streamline the ladder of anti-gravity racing ships, Formula AG and its affiliates are set to use the same platform that the FIA's WRC and Raid series have taken on, with the use of class systems. Formula AG would be designated as AG1 Class, whilst Junior AG, and the regional series below it would be designated as AG2 and AG3 respectively. Discussions are ongoing for such a designation to launch next year, creating a new category of ship that will replace conventional Formula series, creating a group of budget friendly regional series."

"Other discussions also surround the proposed ship designs for 2096, where rumours abound surrounding a more advanced version of ELS, the reintroduction of nanite self-healing repair systems on the ships, a redesigned chassis permitting dual-hulled and more exotic designs, and enhanced agility through more complex aerodynamic feedbacks. Of note, there are leaks outlining the use of energy-based weaponry, making ELS systems able to disable entire ships forthright. Senior figures within Formula AG have denied this, but many expect FIAR will not be keen to advance any proposals to enhance the competitiveness of pilots, many of whom are ardently against such systems."

"On event news, the recent eruption at Moa Therma in Rwanda has ruled out the possibility of the event taking place next month, with critical infrastructure being wiped out and the facility being evacuated in the light of safety concerns. A proposed replacement at Coalescence Geothermal's circuit at the inactive Moa Tempest facility in Hawaii has been tabled, and FIAR are looking at the technical specification of the track. The use of the circuit used between 2081 and 2087 would be a departure from our usual trip to Africa, and would represent a third visit to Oceania this season.

"The track is a pilot favourite, and rumours suggest the circuit is being reactivated using the same technology as we saw in Italy earlier this year, albeit the location on the densely forested Hualālai Volcano will make it difficult to say how far we'll have the fast, flowing sectors of the Marmolada circuit. An announcement is due on the weekend of the Belgian AGP."

"Similar concerns have been raised over the United States AGP, with rumours swirling that the race will be relocated due to a clash with the Classic Anti-Gravity racing festival, though discussions are uncertain on where, or when a replacement would come in. Discussions have been made around a race in Las Vegas, akin to the tumultuous 2085 Vegas AGP, or the historic Olympic Mountain Racecourse near Seattle, which hosted races between 2079 and 2084 as the second AG race in the United States. No confirmation has been made yet, but watch this space."

"For the 2095 season, more discussions are taking place around where the Formula AG series will head. One of note is the German AGP being dropped, in favour of a new street race in Reykjavik, Iceland, using the old airport and inner city highways. The addition of another event, in Yucatan Rainforest of Mexico has also been proposed by the FAS as an additional nature-focussed race, but doubts exist of where it might fit in the calendar that is already pushing pilots, teams and crews all across the globe and beyond. While rumours abound of a second extra-Sol trip to Mars, FIAR event organisation has hinted that currently, no spot on the calendar exists that could manage the logistical challenge." Aurora's V/O carried over the footage, covering historic races there, and feeling like a blur through the past, as well as the stories in view.

---

The New Team on the Block

"Lastly, we have one particular feature to show you."

And with a cut to black, the pre-recorded VO started.

"James Horton, Sally Morrigan welcome to Delta Hyper. So, now we're finally ready to talk the much-talked about replacement to Fitzroy Orbital AG Racing, and as the former COO on the Fitzroy board and current Team Principal, you both know this so well." Aurora asked, sitting on the couch, with a black quilt behind, covering something up.

"Thank you Aurora. I've come from a background at working at Silver Apex, McLaren, and Valkyrie, so the core of our team is excited for the next step. And I think I speak for everyone that it has been quite a while under wraps." Sally started, nodding to James, who took over from there.

"It's so hard these days when there's so much going on, and we know that at home we've been unable to talk much about it. But we have a ship to introduce. And new team name."

"Shall we get to it? James, Sally, we have the ship behind you. A little different than the start of season introduction, would you like to show us what you've been up to?" The keen Irish presenter asked, as James nodded back.

"With pleasure, Aurora."

And with it, played in the montage. One that felt a little cut and filler, from pilot training, digital renders, racing highlights, and the history of the Fitzroy team, up to now.

But at the end, one name popped up.

NOVA.

=====================

NOVA

Back in the studio, Sally and James looked like proud parents, if ever they had anything to show, it was about now as James stood by the curtain, looking with a beam to camera.

"We're proud to introduce NOVA Racing to you at last. And here is our NVR-94, our love letter to British Racing Green, and our next chapter as Nova Racing."

And with it, James stood up, the lighting in the studio shifting a little, the blackened out patch turning into a bloom of yellow, green and white light.

The ship was a very different canvas to the old Fitzroy white, black and red, this time adorned with a colour pallet of a deep, nanorefractive pearlescent green tinged with a tiny amount of rose-gold in the reflection, with a secondary flair of fluorescent yellow, bordering on green to create a high contrast. A ship with plenty of minimalist-maximalist art in the digital-like barcode and symbolistic-style art and triangles that adorned it outside of sponsor logos, and every part of it screamed attention. This wasn't a just a classy Aston Martin style livery hailing back to British Racing Green, it felt bold, with triangular-like connections in the yellow secondary paint, and a feeling of it being glaring and designed to pop with the yellow. Some might say it almost ripped off the 2022 Aston Martin, but the yellow seemed to be much more prominent, and glaring in the design, with grey used for trim and carbon on the ship.

The sponsors reflected that outlandish approach- the largest being Polynetix, with smaller ones including Sakura, ALPHAR, VIXN and Orchard Capital. From a British neural link firm, a Japanese supercapacitor company, a Dutch land remediation firm, a Spanish techwear clothing firm (with the most outlandish looking logo of them all), and lastly, a large British financial firm (whose logo seemed the most ordinary, even if it was a SoftBank affiliate) in the respective order, this was a ship that bled a different identity to the Fitzroy one that had been an advertising banner in seasons past. Fitzroy Orbtial had a small advertising space, but by every intent, this was a different team, a different mindset, not a complete break, but a new start. Toyota snuck in their logo on the ship's nose, reminding everyone this was right now a team in transition, but no less, a team that was backed by a factory.

Aurora looked over it, the ship a clear reskin of Fitzroy's old ship, but when you had a new brand to launch, all eyes were drawn.
"Wow, quite a different look! A different colour, and yes, very green! So, James, where would you say your plans lie with the team?"

"Hah, well, we want to win, Aurora! This year we're staying put in Sheffield, but next year, we're relocating the majority of operations to Sapporo in Hokkaido, Japan. Working with the talented team at Toyota, who have kindly helped us put together a new programme, we're using both our bases to build the best crew possible to compete for titles. We'll be bringing our British heritage forward into a Japanese environment that will bring their passion for motorsport into everything we do and build. We'll disrupt the field this year, but next year, we'll be gunning for the top of midfield."

"And what about your replacement pilot for the recently departed Jen Lowry?" Aurora asked, as if on script, James giving a grin in return.

"Well, we thought you may ask that. Our magnificent ships are only as good as our pilots flying them! Shall we introduce her, Sally?" James asked, as Sally grinned, nodding in return, both looking to Aurora who eyed up the shift of the set behind. The whizz of the motor could be heard of the stage moving, And with a wave, even Aurora was blown away, in shock.

The orchestrally mixed electronic music built, the crescendo hitting, as the smoke broke away, and blasted aside to reveal a pilot in the brand new dark green pilot's suit, helmet in hand.

And more to the point, how in the hell had they got her? Aurora jumped in on that first.

========

Return of the Mack

"Florence Mason, wow, welcome to Formula AG again! Wow, what a comeback for the ages!" James and Sally couldn't stop smiling, as they nodded, looking across, all standing in front of their new ship, in the new green hue of the lights. The brown-haired, lightly Scots pilot was not someone anyone would have put bets on. Max Wedgewood, Kofi Mensah, even Jamie Hart, but this? This was actually bonkers.

"Thank you, Aurora! Well, I keep getting involved, don't I? Well, when I heard about the opportunity, one last dance in Formula AG....well, let's just say never say never! I guess I heard about the project and once they took me through it, I thought wouldn't it be fun to try and rise through the ranks again with a team that's got so much spark?" Florence replied, grinning ear to ear, as Sally nodded, looking across, a beam on her face too.

"Yeah, we're super proud to have Florence on board, she has championship-winning experience, and while many bigger teams than us were looking at her, our project at NOVA is to get to the front of the grid. That starts with a champion mentality, and Florence is with us until the end of next season to get us a ship that will perform over the odds. It will be a challenge, but Florence is super keen on us, and is already a foundation member of our team's board." Sally added, as Aurora looked in awe, simply in shock that NOVA had pulled this off.

This was possibly one of the best concealed rumours on the grid- something to which nobody would have ever seen coming. Some would have said Silver Apex would have gone for their technical advisor back in the seat next to Amy- it felt so obvious, even Valkyrie's second seat would have been obvious as a pick, and Florence had quit AG to raise her child a couple years back. Something had clearly changed. Some discussion to get back a recent legend in the sport, and there was no doubt now as to what NOVA's aims were, and given she had a board position, this was clearly one that had her pegged in to invest into the team's success.

Florence must have received a hell of a lot of money too, but then again, having a massive hedge fund backing your team made writing a cheque that could make a big signing was a way to go. After all, setting up an AG team required a lot of money, and the mid-season pick of pilots was either pinching from other teams, the Junior leagues, or well, something braver. And this was a brave choice.

"Wow, what a statement signing. But that isn't all, is it?" Aurora asked, knowing that the other pilot was missing. Henry wasn't here.

"Well....we do have another pilot to introduce. Shall we, James?" Sally smiled, as James nodded, and the stage directors replied in turn.

And as the wall peeled back again, the smoke revealed another pilot that popped out, hand raised to virtual audience.

===========================

Ben Hale.

If there was ever a time as another team boss, or pilot in AG to be staring at your screen, it might be now. This was the sort of move that transfer legend was made of. How in the actual fuck had they managed to do this? The worst team on the grid, going through a total rebrand, the kind of thing that took a long time to get right, had gone and gotten two of Silver Apex's best supporting talent? This wasn't a lineup that was just good, this was a lineup you could win championships with if the ship could give enough.

"Ben Hale, welcome to Formula AG as a NOVA Racing pilot! After a statement of dominance in the season earlier this season, wow, how are you feeling?"

"Yeah, thanks Aurora, yeah same, it's just mad ennit? It's all happened so fast, but when I heard the movement on the grid, and the plans here, it all just made sense. While I'm gutted I won't be able to go for the championship title in Junior AG, seats on the grid come up so rare, and with Florence always backing me back at Silver Apex, yeah, it made sense to follow my mentor here and join her. I'm super excited for what's to come, and well, looking forward to getting started." Ben's voice was one of confidence, the half-Welsh, half-London accent now the youngest pilot on the grid.

"What a pair of signings! Sally, did it all come together easy?"

"Well, with movement in the season, and our good connections at Silver Apex, a lot of things changed and we weren't sure until yesterday! Ben is here on his merits, and we decided with a change in management, we'd make a change in the team too, so with Florence coming over, Ben was a natural fit to provide a young prodigy and a storied champion with the best environment to settle in. We're brave, and we're not just thinking about the experience in our team, but the new generation of talent. We're here to make that statement." Sally spoke with words that didn't sound affiliated with the worst team on the grid, by far, but given she'd been in AG long enough to know her way around, it seemed like she was speaking in spite of everything Fitzroy had been through.

The terrible facility, the outdated infrastructure, poor morale, results, everything, it seemed like a fairy tale come true that a team like this had a revival.

"And what a statement. What do we expect to see this season, Sally?" Aurora asked, as Sally nodded in turn, the 50-something Team Principal aware she had the pragmatism of racing down a little more than James did, the hype-man who had got all the money in for this.

"Well as we said earlier, we want to be competitive. And we have upgrades already planned, some from our time as Fitzroy, but our new backers, particularly Toyota and Orchard Capital have been massively supportive at getting us up and running, the former's junior AG involvement making a perfect platform to leap into what we do. So many smaller teams have punched above their weight, and with our amazing team, support, personnel, and most of all, our brilliant pilots, we hope we'll find an edge of our own."

Aurora looked to the camera, astonished even herself, finding words.

"Well, what a launch this has been. A new team in Formula AG, with a bona-fide legend of the grid and one of its most promising juniors in years joining, with a striking new livery and a new partnership we can't wait to see what Nova Racing acomplishes. Sally and James, Florence and Ben, thank you for joining me!" The four-piece Nova team smiled, nodding in return.

"Thanks Aurora, and yeah, keep it NOVA, we'll see you in Belgium!"

===================================

With that, the cut finished, going back to the studio where Aurora stood among the displays, playing out the season up until now.

"Wow, what a launch that has been. We hope you've enjoyed our Summer Special, We'll see you at Spa-Francochamps, where I am sure the headlines will run riot as we see NOVA Racing join us, Florence Mason return to the grid and Ben Hale join the grid as the newest rookie. We are in for a treat. See you then!"

And with that, the programme ended, just like that, Formula AG went back to enjoying a break that it wouldn't be getting again until December.

---

In the season break, activities ended in the factories to give the staff and teams a well-earned break, and while NOVA had an exemption for staff reallocation and media activities, the others would be off. This meant for most, this was an actual bit of spare time to spend with family, friends, a chance to catch up on other ventures, and a chance to get recentred before heading to the Ardennes.

Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP) (COMPLETED)

Vulpine Space Command Centre, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

Breach and Clear

0655 Hours

Stacking up against the door, the sound of silenced pistol shots inside could be heard, as Adam set up a series of thermite charges across the hardened security door, placing the strip from the top to the bottom.

"Wilk, we could use a hand, more hostiles than we can deal with further in here. We can offer another angle, if you can breach." Purna's voice carried in Adam's ear, as the Pole looked across to Ebrima, MSBS kept tight in hand given the score they were about to laydown.

"Honestly, this wasn't part of the plan. Queen, hold our rear guard. Shadow, eyes on your actual. How many we got?" Adam asked, the Nepali as calm as a Shaolin Monk in his reaction. This was another Tuesday for him. Even if him and Eloise had nearly got domed barely minutes ago.

"Ten hostiles. About twenty hostages, centre of the room. All nerds." Purna's voice cracked even Adam a smile, as he looked across to the Cameroonian, ready to join him, focus back on.

"Breach? Turn that fucking rifle of yours down though before you beam five guys in one." Adam asked Ebrima, and reminded him just for posterity. It was a new rifle to him, after all, but then again, he'd be rather glued to how fun it was to use.

With his approval, detonated the thermite, letting it burn through the reinforced frame before taking an exo-sized kick to the door, followed by a flashbang, using up the remainder of his field generator to stomach a few larger rounds, before pushing in through the door, the remainder of enemies turning fire onto him as he clapped two more on the side.

It was enough of a distraction, with one of the Artemis guys standing up and getting a subsonic round through the head with the hostage he was using as a shield from Purna, the hostage spared, whilst another got the another triple-tap to the skull, Adam already moving on left sweep and leading on point while Boaro had his shadow. Purna and Eloise still had work to do.

So the Cameroonian had a handful to manage, but Adam had a feeling Ebrima would sort this out.

---

Vulpine Space Launch Pad, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

Battle of the Giants: Bloodbowl

0655 Hours

Laura roared back with the sight of her beautiful Zulu getting pulped, turning to Sam, grappling the mech, knowing what she was doing, trying to get her back with fire. A belch of flame made Sam reconsider that, but in that critical moment, in her blind rage, so wrapped up in the death of Ingwe, she wanted to destroy her and had forgotten her flanks. Words no longer left, as she swang out, smacking Sam's mech hard, and using the missile system to pulverise the armour, making it near inoperable.
"Take that!" Laura taunted, indulgent on this power fantasy she inhabited, perhaps not realising this fight was lost.

"Hawk on station, unable to get a fix with how close Chaos is...."

"No need for that railgun, Valkyrie is here!" Athena yelled, as Laura looked on in shock, in lock with Sam distracting her from being able to take on Athena, who at this point, had taken advantage of the mechs fighting to sneak around.

Athena had flanked around while Jamie and Freya occupied Laura with a distraction, and with it, used her thruster pack to leap onto the back of Laura's mech, firing a bolt of lightening straight at the welds on the flame tank, and then the rest of the fuel cells, exposing them and lighting them up with a steady stream of amped up voltage, that fried everything it hit. Pacing off, Laura realised it had split a good chunk, the concentrated bolts doing more damage than Laura's hit at the armour surface, picking apart a pressurised chunk. Before Laura turned to stomp Athena, she had already lept using her jump jet, almost balletic in the way she moved for something that weighed a few hundred kilos herself, and moved away, watching as the entire unit broke apart, and the flames began to rise out from the compromised pipework.

"Shit, everyone, run!" Athena's call was a simple one, given the sheer amount of fuel, hydrogen cells powering the mech, and various munitions strapped to the thing.

Inside, Laura yelped, sirens blaring. In a split second moment, she wondered if it was better to die than be captured. And as the flame tank ruptured, she made a decision to not die here. A couple of tears rushed by, but as she yanked the yellow handle, and the panel blasted open, Laura felt herself get sent out of the mech's top, and with it, skybound as the ejector seat sent her to oblivion, with what seemed like plenty more venom on it than a normal ejector seat would have. May as well be in a different postcode if you're trying to escape, she initially designed. Except now she was in it, she may have put a bit too much behind it, Laura wondered to herself, the howling noise returning as she realised she'd lost her lover, her ultimate battle machine, and any chance of freedom anytime soon if she didn't find a way out of this mess soon.

Athena in the meantime, used every bit of the jump jet to blast away, rolling in a coil as she watched the entire thing collapse onto the Zulu Mech, and with it, catch light, before exploding in a hail of napalm, smoke and coiled up mess, sending shrapnel flying. Athena barely skidded behind a concrete block, before a massive chunk of the mech's foot flew past and bounced off, massive enough to even turn her into paste in that, but thankfully out of harm's way.

Looking over as the smoke billowed, the giantess grinned, looking on at the sky, right at the top of the massive smoke plume, where a white canopy suddenly fluttered open.

"She ejected out of that one, sis. I think that might not be the last we see of her today." Athena added looking around, taking heavy stomps and running over to Sam. Leaping up, she yanked hard on the cockpit, and with it, exhaled hard.

"Christ, you did well for a first run. Let's get you down." The girl from everywhere, a titan standing tall pulled Sam out from the wreckage, and hustled her over her shoulder easy from the busted up mech, stomping into floor with ease, looking over to Freya, Jamie and Chuck giving a nod.

"We did alright. Nice work team!" Athena smiled, looking on at the fire all around the second, empty launch pad, and the fact they'd felled two massive giants over their own.
"And it didn't even take Frigga's butt cannon." She giggled, overtalking once again, setting Sam down, offering a metallic fist to bump.

"That was fucking badass, Chaos. You might even be mad enough roll with the craziest girl of them all. Not bigging myself up or anything, but if you didn't have me, you'd be...."

"Valkyrie, are you talking shit again?" Skye's voice interrupted it all, given she was listening in on the comms net again with a reconfigured headset.

"What, I went and..."

"Team. Effort. Get the fuck in here, we need a hand." Skye's voice called, knowing it was probably best to stop Athena's ego overinflating her, lest she fell over from the size of her head.

---

Somewhere near a crashed Z-10 Attack Helicopter, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

Sniper Elite

0700 Hours

Tahlia smiled at Ban in reaction to that comment about sniping the men at the back, a cluster of enemies coming through into the overlook that they had towards the space centre below, the small burnt out area of forest on the hill offering plenty of cover, and plenty opportunity to thin the herd.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't tell me how to suck eggs, Shimura. Try and keep up. Stay split and kill anyone in range."

And on that, Tahlia broke from him, finding a position in the hillside, laying out a magazine spare, and getting ready. And on cue, she did exactly as Ban mentioned, clipping men at the back, but picking out the heavier armoured exo-skeleton wearing soldiers, knowing that they'd be an issue. Round after round, and she moved on the completion, darting across to another bush, burying herself in and picking off the opposite site. Soldier after soldier dropped, forcing the advance to slow, and the troops to take a more measured approach.

Tahlia watched her old position get obliterated by 40mm fire, as she crouched behind a large stump of a mangrove, sniping away another group, hearing voices to her side. Another PLA man tried to flank her as he lept up with his exoskeleton, pulling her over and trying to go in for the kill up close, but Tahlia was faster with her knife, going for the groin before stabbing upwards, through the neck, pushing him down and away, drawing her H&K MP7 that had been brought along as a close quarters tool for such an occasion. With a flick of a stock, she found two more men charge up the hill, dumping the mag into their highly armoured platforms, before flicking a new one in and double taping another that had taken the end of the fireteam.

With a last opportunity to relocate, Tahlia was smart enough to run, thankful her prosthetics were holding, though the sore was definitely starting to burn at the bottom of her stumps. Rolling across a burnt out SUV, Tahlia brought her Ballista back into hand, and clambered past a door, watching Shimura pick off his group of soldiers. Tahila didn't really flinch, picking out one, then the next, then the next, the cycle of the bolts rhythmic, one shot, one kill, and making her rounds count. Ban would have his same opportunity to tear apart soldiers, and no doubt, was dicing through enemies all the same.

It was an intense fight, but despite being outnumbered, quite quickly, the PLA realised that they must have been fighting ghosts, and that with the fire raining down, and then the incredible explosion down at the launch pad, they turned direction. It wasn't often that warfare broke the enemy. But this was a rout. This was overwhelming, lost situation. Command was dead. Any semblance of control was out of hand. And whoever the hell it was that Raven were, they'd fought like they had ten times their number, and even the two ghosts on the hill had turned back what remained of the platoon.

But Tahlia didn't take her chance to celebrate, watching the white canopy flutter above, with what she could only recognise to be a mirror of the mech, albeit human and flesh-like, from what was in the distance. Was that her?

Crashing into earth, adjacent to the burnt out treeside that Tahlia and Ban had defended, Laura looked dazed as she clambered out of the ejector seat as she flattened a palm, fumbling over, clutching her ribs, looking up at the sight of a green-quilted sniper and Ban Kingo.

Shimura. She worked with her before.

"Hands up, fatty, I've got a round that'll skin you like a fucking deer! Any funny business, he'll turn you into a fucking Doner!" Tahlia yelled to break the moment they looked at each other, as Laura complied, realising there was no time to react. No time to fight her way out of this one. Even as a heavy, two to one against someone with a rifle that big, after a hit that hard, with nothing to play for, was stupid.

Looking to Ban, who had certainly dealt with Laura beforehand, Tahlia chuckled.
"How the fuck did they build an ejector seat capable of carrying your lardy arse? Christ, Laura Zeiss, weren't you less like this? Ban, please tell me I'm wrong?" Tahlia asked, rifle pointed at core, as Laura shrugged, hands up, aware that with a .300 round, it wouldn't really matter what she thought. The Kiwi sniper wouldn't miss, and even if she did, Shimura, who she had worked with, would turn her into a Doner Kebab if she tried anything. Laura was a little lovesick, a little insane, but not stupid enough to realise that dying here was a good call.

"The perks you get of being an independent mercenary." Laura quipped, looking over at the massive fireball, then back at Shimura and Tahlia.

"God, he was so fun. I mean, was prison worth it? Probably." She added, as Tahlia looked at Ban, utterly confused, watching as she seemed to rather accept her fate, looking over into the horizon. What was an absolute gorilla of a German could have tried closing the distance, yet Tahlia, smartly, made sure she kept rifle firmly at her top half of her thorax and neck to make sure she'd drop faster.

"Come on then. Let's start walking over arse over there. You shouldn't have tried to set everyone on fire. Be lucky I don't put a fucking golf ball size hole in your throat for it. You gonna talk so we reconsider the amount of prison you get?" Tahlia stated, as Laura chuckled, shrugging her massive shoulders.

"I know what the delay is with Rose. I'll talk. But get me to Skye. I know she's with you." Laura replied, knowing that well, at least she had to have the obligation of facing her old team leader and saying it to her face.

---

Vulpine Space Command Centre, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

The Recap

0730 Hours

Inside of the control room, covered in dust, the team regrouped with plenty of technicians that had been spared from getting domed through the Artemis remnants. Now, there was barely anything left. PLA forces were running, realising that Raven was on business today. The window was limited, and Skye was acutely aware that they needed to get to work on the rest.

Laura, tied up in chains that Athena had found, requiring those rather than zip ties, was on her knees, in the centre of the room, in front of an array of screens. Skye, now having gotten some more form fitting clothing rather than the PLA officer's coat, was in a green shirt and combat trousers she'd salvaged that fit her a little better, and kept her modesty on a little more. She walked past the team, past Ebrima, battered and bruised from the fight but still going, the Kantaario siblings, keeping a watchful eye on Laura, Chuck, who was being tended to by Adam, Sam, who was looking through the launch centre's equipment, and then Eloise and Purna, who were looking after the hostages, and getting intel from them, and getting them back to any semblance of normalcy, including food, water and the simple task of launching an Arianne rocket with crew and cargo.

Skye didn't focus on that for now, she was just going for the only person she wanted to talk to in this moment, the redheaded, reborn operative looking at the brunette German on her knees in the centre of the room.

"Boss." Laura tried to weasel her way out, as Skye chuckled, and could not stop laughing, visibly amused. Skye sat on a bench, AK-12 in hand, aware that if the giant decided to make a move, she could at least mag-dump away at the woman that must have made Athena look like a nun in relative humility. Laura had given up on that idea.

"You are one insane bitch, Bertha. First, you betray Raven, then you try and set your old girlfriend on fire, now you try and set half the team on fire? Because you got lovesick over some guy trying to end the world?" Skye asked, arms crossed, Laura shrugging her massive shoulders.

"I heard you had issues too." Laura quipped back, in her Germanic sarcasm, Skye shrugging and nodding.

"Yeah, I suppose so. But, I wasn't fucking genocidal, was I. Or addicted to....whatever you were." Skye stopped for a second, eyeing her up.

"Bakker betraying us I could see. But you, Zeiss. What was it you wanted?" Skye asked, Laura shrugging knowing she had little reaction.

Laura chuckled, looking to Freya, then back to Skye.
"It's all personal to you." Skye chuckled, wondering if Laura knew or not. No need to go into that.

"Not wrong in every sense of it. You happy to cut to the chase?" Skye had a strained relationship of course, given Laura's....insubordinate, let alone deviant behaviour. "You know I'll be fair with you at least."

Laura nodded, looking across at the rest of the team, in particular at Freya, knowing that with Chuck...well, they were never going back. She regretted her actions a little now she saw just how beautiful her face without that helmet. A face that could launch a thousand ships. What had gotten into her, she wondered? Was it just the feeling of being pushed away? Just obsession? Addiction to her own image? Well, whatever it was, she wasn't about to be shot yet, so that was a plus.

"I suppose being Queen of the wasteland was going to suck anyway. Without him to....well. What do you need?" Laura reluctantly uttered, as Skye took that as a sign.

"How fucked are we? You and Ingwe were clearly promised something, so how long have we got to stop what Rose does? Before all of us die, you included?"

"He was promised a kingdom. I got a really cool mech, not gonna lie, that span it for me. You've got at least twelve hours. Rose is going to take time to sequence everything, and she would dump them on major population centres first, the bioweapon gets into water and then it wouldn't stop. Paris, New York, London, Moscow, Shanghai, Tokyo, once in any system, and in the atmosphere, it basically would eliminate 70% of humanity within a week. The rest would have fallen apart through anarchy. I'm an engineer, not a biochemist. But you have time." Laura replied with a candid note, as Skye nodded.

"That is good. I can work with those odds. Shit as they are." Skye replied, as she looked across to the techs for half a moment, before looking back to her.

"Given it's the end of the world, Laura, I'm feeling oddly comfortable with you being honest. We survive this, let's see what happens. But, between those four over there, and Adam, I think an apology is in order. They did a very good job felling you. I think you should realise that when a team's against you, it's a bit harder to win. I taught you that. And Laura....I think Freya deserves a little closure." Skye quipped, Laura chuckling, nodding to Freya, sighing, thinking back to those times. It was as if she was snapped, Laura looking sad, but certainly like she'd enjoyed her little run of things.

That was dealt with for now, as the Scot pivoted away from the German to the other two giants in the room- Chuck and Jamie.

"Find something you can make a cell out of. Take Athena's coils off her and put more voltage into her than an elephant if she tries to move. If she looks like she's enjoying it, keep applying voltage till she passes out. She's a big girl. It'll take a lot to kill her." Skye added, moving around to speak to Ebrima next, but being interrupted.

---

Hearing the static in her comms unit, she watched as Athena and co dragged Laura away, as the Scot had higher powers to answer to.

"Queen, can you give an updated status? Sat feeds are showing PLA activity has minimised. They're on the run, looks like any hostiles you have left are routed and are leaving the AO."

"Solid copy. We're alive. It's going to be at least another twelve hours until Rose can start sequencing anything. Plan B is in motion, Oracle. We need to get this rocket launched and take her down. Then get home. Vulpine staff will sort us out."

"Affirmative. Best of luck to you, and do whatever you can. Hate to say it, but fate of the world's in your collective hands."

"Really? This like some, Independence Day shite? Go set up a launch, take out my evil twin, call it a day?" Skye sarcastically remarked, sitting on one of the tables one of the techs was at.

"No other way of putting it. This one's in your hands now. Have you got Zhao in custody?" Oracle asked, as Skye looked to Boaro on that one.

"Negative. You heard Boaro earlier. Shit got messy. We're all you ahve."

"Affirmative. I'll let command know. This is gonna be a tough one to sell, Queen....what are you....."

"Not an impossible sell. Work this one out, Oracle. Your job is telling them we're allowing them to live tomorrow. Tell them I'll come for them personally if they try and come for you over it. I've killed quite a lot of PLA and Artemis souped up with heavies, mechs and exos today with a team of badass motherfuckers in the space of an hour. I'm sure I can scratch in some silly cunts in waistcoats at Langley, London and Moscow to it if they think it's a wise call on H-Hour. Or they can face facts. Out." Skye spat, as she cut the line, grinning as she felt a little bit of a win there.

---

Skye looked to the team, a certain glance that was unmistakably hers despite a different body, as she stood up, away from the table. They'd all realised it wasn't quite the original Skye they were used to. But that was a fact that was sinking in slower than the fact that they'd have to get on with an impossible task. And right now, their team leader seemed to have command of that anarchy.

"None of you have to do this. This is basically suicidal, and of all the people, I'll be honest with you, it's probably best left to me. There's only one of her, and we just need to neutralise the bodies, and anything inside the station before blowing it to hell and coming home." Skye added, looking across the group, namely, the core one. Eloise, Ebrima, Sam, and Freya.

Athena shook her head, her helmetless visage allowing her blonde hair to be released, as she stood tall, her armour battered, but still solvent.
"I'm with you. No arguments. Keep the same team." Athena simply stated, looking across to the others. "JamJam, I'll trade you the fifties for the coils?" Her sight was unflinching, because in a rare moment, she seemed to be down for this. Her hearts must have been too full of adrenaline for her to be making good decisions.

Athena gulped, nodding in addition to her initial point back to Skye.
"Time I took some responsibility. I'm with you, Skye. Ride or die." Athena added with a grin, looking to the others, Adam piping up as he stepped forwards.

"I'll lead the ground team. Not all of us are trained on this, Skye. Me, Purna, Jamie, Chuck, Tahlia and Ban can hold the island. Keep security posted while you sort this out." Adam added, nodding to that group, knowing that all of them were probably relieved to be not getting launched, as she looked to who was left.

"And if you're trained, well, you know what to do, you're with Skye. No ifs and buts, you're our best chance at saving everyone. I suppose nobody wanted it to come to this. But here we are." Adam simply added, as Skye nodded, putting the rifle down on the table, nodding in return.

"Here we fucking are. Alright. Enough of this centre's intact, and EVA gear for our sizes should be on hand, given the manifest I checked. Looks like we're doing this." Skye was not proud of the idea, but same time....well, this was the play they had now.

"Chief Keller? We are good to launch the rocket on pad, aren't we?" Skye asked, as the terrified Dutch handler nodded, her uniform bloodied and dusted, wiping down the laptop in front of her.

"Yes, we're good. Launch is still prepped. Just needs the lift to be pulled back once you're inside, and then good to go. Debris check with a drone seems like everything is intact. There's always risk. But we can get you there, on a course, after that, you'll be in the hands of the ESA rather than us." She uttered out, Amelia Keller's name badge revealing the title of "Head of Launch Operations" for Vulpine Space, and well, her situation feeling like it had gone from bad in having a gun to her head, to worse in finding out from Skye what was about to go down.

"Good. Time to get to work then." The Scot on the other hand, wasted no time.

"Adam, Eloise, grab the EVA suits from inventory and prep gear, set them out in the room next door, by where the truck is parked. We'll gear up- Jamie, I'd appreciate if you could act as a mobile hangar for us, the suits are heavy and we'll need to be in them from launch, even if they're ridiculously bulky. We need rifles, ammunition, and grapples. Can't take anything we have up there we usually carry, so 5.56 and easily manageable is my recommend. Mostly HK416s, SIG MCXs and G36s on these lot, so scavenge mags, ammo. We set Athena and Freya in the cargo where the satellites would go, their armour's airtight, and well....they tell me they can hold their own. Rest of us are in the crew module." Skye started, looking to the next group.

"Ebrima, Ban, get the truck ready, and disconnect any fuel, or any pre-launch logistics on the pad. Tahlia will take the lift when ready. If you're not sure what to do, Keller will guide you through the process in comms." She added, then approaching Sam, no doubt worse for wear, but ready for this to come.

"Sam, the rocket launch will be automated. Keller will be in your ear as you need it. But you might need to recall your manual on launching on Arianne 7, and take a bit of time with how we decouple, then get outside, and then back in safely to come home. This might....might be a bit more than anything you've ever flown. Chat to some of the techs, and get yourself familiar. I'm afraid we haven't got as long as we like." Skye may not have understated the comment, but she knew everyone was capable of holding their own.

"Freya, Athena, get your suits checked with Tahlia. Get set, and be ready to launch."

"We have a world to save. Let's get to it, Raven." And with it, she clapped, as if she was some chef in a kitchen, because it was a feeling of if people weren't sorting themselves out, they were about to get useful.

Cue the montage.

---

Soundtrack: Nothing But Thieves - Welcome to the DCC

It was slow but sure.

Fuel lines disconnected. The lift in position to get into the capsule. Rifles laid out, next to EVA suits.

Tactical mag carriers on front, helmets, oxygen supplies, and literal spacesuits to work with, readied for each member of the team, velcro stuck to each from their personal equipment.

Techs cleaning up with brooms, then getting to their laptops, doing the work that was involved in launching an actual rocket off a pad. And all the insanity ensued in that. The last chance that Raven had to push on and get to Ark Angel.

The slow build up of the screens left on the wall giving readouts, and the clock set for a 0900 launch.

A hubub of movement, Laura squirming and getting tazed, and bit by bit, things falling into place. Within barely thirty minutes, plenty had been done. Ready to get moving.

---

Vulpine Space Command Centre, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

Yes, We're Actually Doing This, We're Not Sure How, But We Got To This Point of A Military RPG Doing Something This Silly

0800 Hours

If ever there was a time that it was sinking into the team, it was ditching most of their tactical gear, and bar Freya and Athena, leaving behind exoskeletons, rifles, everything, and slowly but surely, gearing out of their usual kit, and into under-armour styled cooling gear, and bit by bit, getting ready. Where a metal crane didn't work, Jamie did in holding people up, legs in first, slipping in through the back, head past the neck seal, before the rest being sealed up, and arms and gloves being sorted next, then helmet into hand being given.

Spacesuits had come a long, long way since the decades past, with most being less bulky, but the white and grey coloured Vulpine Space suits, even with the Fox with an orbit around its head on the shoulder, were still not easy to move in given they would be pressurised once up in space.

It was still heavy, ridiculously so, and Skye hated her new body. Her normal self would carry this no issue. But alas. Less muscle density, fibres less built, so this was shitty, and well, here they were. The team would be garnering up, and ready to move shortly, as they one by one got into theirs, and assembled before the truck. The others would be probably feeling it, well, bar Freya and Athena. Lucky bastards.

Skye caught Sam once done, and without a word, took a hold close, hugging her tight, resting her head into her friend's now broadened shoulder, breathing out heavy.

"I might have lied about that whole dying thing. It's a really long story." Skye chuckled, her dry sense of humour fully intact, even if her old self wasn't quite that anymore.

"But we're not done yet. You've done a hell of a lot today. And this is a lot to take in. But we're made for this." Skye asked, confident, despite everything inside not being quite.

"I trust you fully to get us home. You ready?" Skye asked, looking across as the truck reversed into the prep bay, and with it, the heavies were willing to provide a literal hand up, and from there, head out to the launch bay.

Every single child would be screaming in this moment about where they were going. For Skye, she was more concerned that if they failed, humanity was doomed. And due to her own self, technically. That was not an average Tuesday, not at all. It was the end of fucking everything, and that somehow kept her focussed on the task at hand, focussed enough to forget they were about to launch off the site of a base they'd razed to the ground, to go kill that particular person and hopefully, come home. Looking across to the others, Ebrima, Eloise, Sam, Freya, Athena, she clutched a feeling that this was all getting to a head.

DELTΔ HYPER (Anti-Gravity Racing, Cyberpunk/Solarpunk RP)

Sunday July 2nd, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1400 EST

Hockey Fight

---

Soundtrack: Zikali- Serious Stuff

With the sunshine out in Montreal, the heat was on, the mercury pushing to 37C, and making air cooling in the ships critical. Lined up, there was a palpitation, a feeling of everything this first half of the season, coming to a head. The lights turned red. And….

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The race started with a bang. Amy did not waste time, quickly making mincemeat of Han within the first lap with a clean getaway, and then Cassie the lap after, the Zygon ships in qualifying trim not able to adapt to the bleaching sun of Montreal, but falling backwards. They were holding their own, but Amy was a different class when she wanted it. Further back, the grid got chaotic- positions changing frequently in the lap, ELS being used a lot more than was anticipated, and things getting chaotic in the midfield.

Paul and Nora had been battling but had gotten smart enough to realise that the Zygon ship, as balanced as it was, had weaknesses. Paul found openings on Han, then Cassie. Only Amy Stirling left, and his moves had made a room for Nora to follow him, and she was fighting hard with Paul, the speed and handling of the ship neutered by Paul’s absolutely world-class handling and reflexes, his new neural link unleashing a ship that was previously seen as glued to just be even better. Nora was on reflexes, but on the straights, closed him up, even in spite of her lesser ELS experience.

And whatever Paul was clearly on, that gap to Amy fell each lap, as the girl that normally carved out a lead was not able to make one anymore. And now, Amy’s usual gambit of ELS hadn’t worked, because two mistakes in Sector 1, and Paul was able to start leaching.
“Paul Mulder, on a track where his team-mate just can’t make it work today, is hunting down Amy Sterling, he is two-tenths up in the last sector, he is snatching ELS out of her, can Stirling hold on and shake him off?” Rory’s excitement was building.

“We’ll have to see, on the straights that Valkyrie ship just hasn’t got the muscle, but in the corners, whatever Paul is feeling, he seems to be finding something even Amy can’t today!” Rosie’s followed.

Paul was closing. One massive dump of ELS, Valkyrie’s ability to harvest energy particularly strong here, and lap by lap, he was smart enough to know how and when to leech Amy’s power. It was the only thing keeping her ahead.

And down the final straight, the white ship was getting tailed closer and closer by the one in grey and yellow.

“Mulder is holding back, he’s just waiting his turn, he knows this is a good points haul for Valkyrie, and Stirling must know it too, what is she going to do?”

“Well, she’ll be looking to reclaim that ELS back again, baiting him close, on that straight that is getting tighter and tighter…”

“They’re heading into the final chicane, and…..oh my word, she’s gone wide, and….oh no, oh my that is a huge crash! Big hit for Amy Stirling, that ship is out of the race, that is a rare mistake from the world champion!”

Disaster for Amy. It was a huge hit as she took the line too wide to throw Paul into a false sense of security to snatch back some power, the ship recoiling off and skidding barely to the side of Paul, slumped into the side wall and with her immediately pulling the cockpit open and clambering out. She was fine, externally, internally, she was fuming, the crash no doubt visceral from Paul’s point of view. She’d smacked the Wall of Champions hard, and left more than a dent in the wall.

A Virtual Safety Ship instantly came out. And once it was cleared, racing began again, yet it was messy given the differentials were tiny as they were going into it. So at Turn 1, making a stupid move, Harrison traded paint with Layla and Max in Turn One, the damage to all enough to hurt them all rather than make any meaningful difference, the three bickering so much it opened a door for Beatrix to make a move on Max and Layla. And amazingly, Layla’s ship, sloppier out of corners for some reason since the hit, and Max’s ship being down on power, was now getting passed by Jen Lowry, who was somehow making her ability to hurl herself up the grid known.

Yet all eyes were on Jamie Hart, who was trying to recover, now the only Silver Apex ship in the running, following Kais’s 6th place. And coming into Turn 13, Jamie tried to stab a late lunge where the Al-Saqr ship shook around on exit. It was a bad call.

“Oh my, Hart has misjudged that, what a hit! That’s them both out, Hart was just trying to go around the outside and misjudged that exit, but what was Zenix doing covering that aggressively? Surely the stewards will look at that!” Rory’s commentary was reactive, as the camera hadn’t been on him there and then, because that was an insane place to make a move.

Another Virtual Safety Ship. And no further action. Perhaps the racing gods decided to go easy on the Canadian’s final, woeful race with that lack of penalty, because he was sobbing when he clambered out, perhaps hoping Kais would come over and punch his head off his neck. But in time, he was back inside the safety zone. The entirety of Quebec exhaled a last, frustrated annoyance that their local hero had once again, bottled it.

Both ships were in bits, the crash nowhere near as big in kinetic energy as Amy’s but writing off both fully. That safety period ended, and Dorian’s race, already poor with him trying to climb the ranks, ended with him clattering into Ulrich Falkner, able to keep going but forced to retire the ship due to damage, an entire section of the side ripped apart and so painful in his neural link he had to simply sever it in the last sector of the circuit, and limp home like he had sprained an ankle. Ulrich realised the same when the ship’s shielding had decided to die, the electrical system forcing him to pull over and get to safety as it was now rendered unsafe. That all meant more carbon, metal and mess needed cleaning, with a short Virtual Safety Ship, that ended as fast as it was all swept out by the trackside drones.

It was getting tedious, because the amount of carbon on track was turning this into a farce, with how many pilots were losing their head in the Canadian sunshine. It had done a number and made the original grid extremely messy. ELS strategies were messed up, but that meant things shifted fast. Like an ice hockey fight, this had gotten messy, but no fan would say they weren’t enjoying how tight, close and competitive the grid was. This was sticky, in all the best ways.

When the yellows turned green, the order was rearranged again.

And ending, Jen pushed hard, knowing Harrison was down on energy from the impact, and she had a massive bank of ELS saved up. Lap after lap, her ship should have never been here, but she made it count in the straights, even if in the corners the ship felt like it had an anti-gravity generator that was soaked in butter.

And then she feinted, and with a final, massive dump of it, unleashed the ship on the final lap, pulling out an overtake and leaving no room for Harrison to respond, his ability to try and overtake not possible.
Beatrix fought with Harrison, unable to get past the wounded, yet extremely capable ship that Harrison piloted, but holding a respectable 7th place.

Paul Mulder, by contrast, had actually won a race any nobody had realised just how much of a lead he had built up over Nora right at the end- seamlessly finding his flow on the tight circuit and holding a late attack that Nora couldn’t complete right at the death. It was his first win, and Valkyrie, despite seeing Dorian retire, had claimed another big victory to add onto their tally post Monaco. This was one hell of a scene for them, as he took first, followed by Nora, Cassie in 3rd, then Han in 4th, Jen Lowry in 5th, Harrison in 6th, Bea in 7th, Layla in 8th, Max in 9th on home soil, and Ava in 10th.

There was no doubt as everyone exhaled, they’d watched one of the best races in modern AG sport, a future classic perhaps with the impact on the grid, but nobody had expected Paul Mulder to rope in Amy that fast and make her crack, and nobody at all anticipated Jenny Lowry.

But things were about to take an even bigger twist.

---

As the pilots all pulled in, scrutineering got to work.

And the shock was seismic. Cassie yelled at an official, as she was pulled aside, and a small legion of FIAR techs headed out. And with it, running 3D scanning and specialist tools, had a look underneath the Zygon ship.

And there it was. An illegal modulator and aero function connected to the anti-gravity unit, that made this chassis one of a kind. It had been a grip demon for a reason, but of course, was outside of the tight spec that FIAR ran. And it hadn’t been seen for this long, but the obvious qualifying result had tipped people off. Almost too good, and even despite losing positions in the race, Cassie watched in horror as the officials uttered the words.

Before even making it to the podium room, it was over. Zygon’s ships were disqualified with immediate effect. For ships before 3rd, that meant automatically, two places gained for the pilots behind the Zygon ships.

That meant only one thing.

To what was an absolute legion of screaming engineers, frankly carrying Jenny Lowry off her feet, her confusion evident as she looked across and realised what had happened.

“Jenny, you’re P3!”

This was a fever dream. Because for the first time in forever, the crowd had seen a true underdog, a story that almost couldn’t be written, be committed to ink. The team that nobody expected to win, had nothing of note, was about to disappear forever, had left one last mark in the sport. And with British flags waving, even the rest of the grid had to stop for a moment and just watch in pure awe at what was perhaps not an earned podium, but a deserved one for Jennifer Lowry. The last race of Fitzroy Orbital, their last podium, and perhaps, the last race their pilot would ever make there and then.

Race Results for Montreal

docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1qF6cn…

---

Canada: Cooldown and Podium

The cooldown room had possibly one of the weirder vibes of the season, as Jen looked across at Paul, with his first win in Formula AG, and Nora, who cooly enjoyed watching her fight with Amy, and forcing her to make an incredibly rare, if not unprecedented error through the Wall of Champions, creating the absolute glitterbomb of a crash. This was an enormous boon for her- a massive haul of points that closed the gap between her and Amy. And while bombastic, Nora seemed resolved, almost locked in, even in the cooldown room.

Jen however, was even more enthused, because it was her first time on a podium in a very, very long time, maybe since the Junior series. And in a ship that was on its final outing, before the sale of Fitzroy Orbital, she had given them the ultimate send off. Going from fifth place, to third, given the disqualification of both Han-Ae-Han and Cassie Neves had been instant. Perhaps lucky for them, it only extended to this race only despite its use in Silverstone. The part had to be removed, and well, the scandal and press would talk later. What had nearly given Zygon glory, had sent them crashing into the ground. And from the earth, Jen Lowry was here now, in what was a lot of history made.

“This is incredible. You guys are regulars, right? I mean, I got lucky but….wow! And to think that Bea hasn’t even got up here yet….oh she is gonna be so jealous!” Jen smirked, chuckling, as she watched her move on Harrison right in the last lap, grinning ear to ear.

“Nicely done, Paul! Well deserved win, it’s been a while coming! That fight with Amy looked fun….you two really tangled!” Jen chirped, the British pilot beaming at him, hugging him as he came through and took a look at his highlights. How strange it felt. Valkyrie had sent her an offer. He was a lovely guy, someone she almost fawned over a little, her head said Silver Apex yet her heart said Valkyrie. It seemed genuine from her, almost as if from a place of humility and a love of the sport had found its odd shining through into this position.

Yet she'd made her choice.

Jen Lowry smiled as she was the first to lead out when ushered, moving out to a sea of cheers, because everyone loved, adored an underdog. And in her black and white, with a red tinge of crimson, Jen took her hat off and put her hands wide, her eyes wild, her mind completely lost in how the actual hell this had happened. As the others followed, Nora getting cheers, and Paul getting plenty for his first win in Formula AG, the trophies, medals and national anthems felt like a haze. And of course, the champagne bottles, smacked against the base of the trophy, and sprayed into the faces of everyone, including Owen Keating of Southern Cross. It was a time to be wild. Jen loved every second. And no doubt, as she looked up at Paul, he would be as well. What a drive from him- putting Amy under pressure, learning from his past mistakes and being patient, he’d put a quality race together, never losing control, being always on top. In a sea of chaos, a beacon of calm, that finally got what he deserved, persevering even against cheating teams, and coming out smelling of roses into the summer break.

And looking out, Peter Thatcher, as pissed off as he was, looked up at that podium, bitter about the results, resolutely angry, and unable to believe how stupid his pilots were. Jen had gone and achieved that in a ship that was never going to do what it did. In a place that shouldn’t have. This was beyond a fever dream. This was cinema, plain and simple.

He gave a thumbs up to her, and a wink, and with it, caught a glance from her, smirking back.

Peter Thatcher had got it wrong before. But something told him he had his pilot.

---

Delta Hyper: Post Race Interviews

The Delta Hyper interviews followed, once the podium ceremony was complete, bringing all the pilots together behind the paddock building, spectators still about to watch on the screens and their devices.

“Kais, a race to forget. With reports widely going around that Jamie Hart is out of a seat for the season, are you disappointed he couldn’t keep it clean for his home race?”

The next pilot got a round of cheers, the crowd electric with what had been an insane race, topped by the cream of the crop in Paul Mulder's performance. This was a statement- an announcement he wasn't just an understudy to Dorian, but gaining his position.

“Paul, congratulations on your maiden win, the crowd have gone absolutely wild! What a result for you and the team, talk us through your fight with Amy, and your dominant display despite all the virtual safety ships?"

Bea was up next, with plenty of cheers from the crowd, the momentum that she was keeping up certainly catching many eyes on the grid.
"Bea, what a statement to wrap up 5th place, though some would argue you were very lucky with the Zygon penalties and crashes ahead of you. Would you say you are finding the fine balance between patience and aggression in your ship to ship racing?"

---

Amy looked dejected, but nonetheless, knew she had to face the music.

“Just a really bad mistake from me, super weird, just didn’t have any traction on exit and played it too loose, and the wall smacked back. Really bad, and it’s gutting to lose so many points in a championship fight. But we’ve got the summer break to regroup, and lots of changes, so it’s still a long way to go.” Her response was dry, uncharacteristically so, as she moved out of the way, the scene filled with the Aussie.

Harrison smirked, pissed he hadn’t gotten back at Jen on the last lap or caught Nora, but still aware that his new friend had gotten him good, and deserved that position shift.

“Well, it’s good for me, P1 for Southern Cross in the Constructors is looking more and more likely! We’ve been such an amazing team, not sure how Nora pulled away so much today as I was struggling, but sometimes when life gives you lemons, you gotta make lemonade and carbonate it, and we got that for sure.”

He shifted out of the way for Layla, who stepped up, with a coolpack around her neck.

“Not great to contact with Harrison and Max, but when the racing is this tense, it’s difficult to know. It’s so hard in the midfield, a shame what happened to Kais, but yeah, we’re doing what we can. The margins are so tight, and it was a shame not to capitalise on our efforts, but we're producing a rocketship this season and I can't wait to see what happens. Yalla!”

Max beamed, the crowd screaming, mic in face.

“Yeah, super, super stoked to get points at home, and we’re definitely going into the season break with a lot of momentum! Shame that Jamie couldn’t get any points today, but we’re glad to score some for you today, and hopefully we’ll keep it going!”

Kofi followed, grinning ear to ear.
“Another points haul! Of course! It is great, and while we lost our position to Fitzroy, may I just say a massive congratulations is in order to Jen!”

Henry followed in the same vein, smiling, knowing his crap result was contrasted by his team mate’s incredible achievement.
“Just amazing, what an incredible result for us and I think….well, the news will be out soon, but that is our last race as Fitzroy as you know us. Thank you ever so much, and please, please give a massive cheer for Jen Lowry, as she is incredible, a pleasure to have as my team-mate and I think you'll see her at a big team soon!"

Astrid also grinned, keeping it simple.
"Well, sh*t happens to other people, I get a point, what's not to like?"

Dorian was less impressed, shrugging, but keeping a positive spin on things.
"Just went from bad to worse. Had a really bad time getting through traffic, and just couldn't do what Paul did. Amazing to see him take his first victory, a shame I couldn't help but non, it is his day and he deserves all the credit!"

---

Sunday July 2nd, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1800 EST

Decision Time

Jen Lowry

Jen looked through the notes, looking across to Andy, who sat in his jeans and plain white shirt, the soundproofed meeting room reserved under a different name, the doors locked to stop any prying ears or eyes in.

“You’ll be with Callum Wallace given they don’t want to take any more Fitzroy staff, and they are starting on mods, on Tuesday. It’s extensive. You understand what’s involved. This goes further than anything Jamie had, from all reports. They don’t want to make the same mistake they made before.”

Jen gulped, looking through the list, already half aware, but now, fully cognizant of just how serious this was about to be.

“That is a hell of a list. Cerebra‑NX implants, nanolacing at the C3–C5 and in my existing neural link, and then in the rest of my major bones with a bone marrow transfusion, SilverLabs limbs with KinetiQ actuators including shoulders and upper legs which means they’ll….well, that’s limbs lost next week. Mason and Fuller spec full cochlear replacement, X&Y optics, and the rest they’ve put in NDA until I’m within the team that they’ve got full rights to do…..with limited refusal. Fuck me. That’s millions of n-Euros. Now I get it.” Jen was outspoken, going through it, the contract poured through after the race had completed. It had been a long week, and they had toyed with both teams offering a contract. But now, the message was clear from Peter. Now or never.

Looking across, Andy nodded to that thought, knowing it was heavy stuff.

“You put the worst ship on the grid on a podium finish. Let alone points. That’s a miracle. This is going to be transformative. Irrespective, they’re going to look after you. Look, that might be wrong or not, but either way, Jenny, this is going to be a big change for you. You deserve this. It’s a good call, and we know that Peter’s got reason to trust you. Especially after today, any team would scream to sign you.” Andy replied, the stubble having Brit looking across, sliding the tablet over the table.

“Sign here, and you’ll be in Silver Apex.” Andy smiled, as Jenny took a moment to compose herself, taking the tablet.

“Remind me why I’m doing this, Andy? Just for, you know, a bit of peace of mind.” Jenny asked, as Andy shrugged, looking back at his client, knowing she was just going over it one last time in her mind, even if the choice was made.

“Your choice, Jen. But this is about you. Amy’s a fierce talent, but Peter Thatcher needs to get back at Southern Cross this season one way or another. He won’t let you fail after he lost that chance with Jamie. And yeah, Alexander is a good guy, he’ll give you everything, and he promised you the world, Cavan, a lot of what you had at Fitzroy. But what’s the next scandal that comes out? His daughter got a load of mods, that they can’t even give their own pilots. You’ll be fighting Paul, and you saw how good he was. When will they ditch you for one of their own if he’s got designs on growing the team internally? Sure, Cavan might help but….you said you wanted change? This is as good as it gets. And this chance will never happen again, not if you turn them down now. No more dramas, and a new slate if you struggled in Fitzroy. Just you getting more podiums, like today, because you're proving to be a little more grounded than Jamie is.” Andy replied, as Jen nodded. It was in those words she was putting fingerprint into glass tablet, pulling her finger across, then skidding it over the glass table.

“Thank you.” Jenny smiled, as Andy took the tablet, tapping away.

“Your sponsors will need to be informed. I’ll sort that out. And a bunch of new ones will come with Silver Apex. I’m told all of Jamie’s want to continue where they left off with you, pick what commitments you want and it is yours. The news will come out in two days, so it doesn’t overshadow this podium. Optics and all. Welcome to the big stage, Jen.” With it, he put a hand out, and Jen took his hand, smiling, in reply beaming.

“This wasn’t how I expected it. But let’s do this, yeah? We got some races to win.” Her smirk broke wide open, because in spite of everything, her gut reminded herself that opportunities like this came one in a generation for a pilot like her. And after that podium, perhaps her mind had been convinced that way. Spend time chasing behind Paul? Or dominate Valkyrie, who would put her as second best for later? She was ready to spin the wheel.

---

Sunday July 2nd, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1800 EST

Braking Zone

Harrison Makara

The Southern Cross garage was a strange place to be, because on the one hand, Nora had snatched an amazing result and the gap into summer now against ‘Apex had widened significantly- and yet, the result from one particular side was nowhere near as good as one Australian had hoped. The opportunity to widen the gap had been compromised by a poor race that got messy in the midfield. Once again. Perhaps he overfocussed on that, because compared to Nora, who was pulling out points, he wasn’t today, and that gap was not one he had any right to be pleased with. Pulling 2nd, 4th as a team, sure, but this? This wasn’t acceptable.

Harrison beckoned to Nora, looking across, arms folded, after his debrief, still not sure how she was doing this. He didn’t want perfect to be the enemy of good. He’d celebrated. But he knew that in moments like this, marginal gains were the difference. Especially when Amy would come back swinging after a rare, rare mistake like that. Nothing could be let go of. The gloves were off.

“Right, so how the hell are you doing this? Because that’s insane what you did. Those Zygon ships were cracked, and you still pull through?” Harrison added, as before Nora replied, Owen put a hand to his shoulder.

“Harrison. With me.” Harrison stared her down, head over shoulder looking to Nora.

“We had a deal. Come on, mate.” It felt like that deal was gone, as Owen pulled him through, into a backroom of the garage.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Owen asked, Harrison aiming to push, but Owen pushing back.

“You know what’s up. I trusted her, every setup, every experience, the stone, the….”

“You gave her the stone?” Owen’s mood immediately changed, as Harrison nodded, silent at first, but finding a response.

“Yeah, because it’s the bit that he wanted the team to keep, and a pilot to have. A good luck charm. Kept us together. I hoped it would.” Owen looked on blankly, hearing that response and letting it go past, as he wanted to be back on point. Not wanting to address that now.

“Right. Your call. Anyway, we need to be united in front of the press, and everyone else, and you having a slump is not going to be helped if you get pissy. Alright? You’re gonna be that perfectionist, make us look like we’re fighting? That kind of asshole….now? Right, we’re gonna go back out there, back to fucking normal. You’re gonna take the summer to do whatever you need to do so you can get centred. But I need you to get your shit together, or else fucking hell, we will gift this first place position back to Silver Apex, and you will give it back to Amy once she gets back on track. You believed in this team when we went toe to toe with Amy last year. So I need to trust you that you’ll be sensible. Understood?” Owen replied with a dressing down, Harrison sighing, old enough to understand, but gritting his teeth anyway.

“Understood. Sorry. This means a lot to me, it’s…..” Harrison said blankly, like a schoolchild being told off, as Owen shook his head.

“It means a lot to all of us, you flippin’ cunt. Now come on, stop being a melt and let’s go enjoy some champagne. Amy Stirling just crashed so anything can happen, so no more debriefs, let’s enjoy widening our 1st place in the standings, because you fucking beat Amy today no matter how you look at it, we did, so let’s crack on!”

With it, they walked back into the main garage area, but some had heard that. What had been a fruitful relationship, hell, even what felt like success beyond any wild dream, was now becoming more competitive by the day.

---

Sunday July 2nd, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1800 EST

Cheater’s Lament

Cassie Neves

The mood in Zygon’s camp was dour, as Cassie sighed, sitting at the pit wall, looking into the horizon as she was doing a lot more of lately. This wasn’t depression. This was existential bullshit.

“We gave it all we could. Come on.” The engineer’s voice was not music to her ears, as she put hands to wall and turned.
“We pissed away everything. Because we chose too much risk.” Cassie’s words were like granite on granite, scraping, as her race engineer didn’t exactly hold back.

“You wanted risks? You want a ship that actually gives you results? Come on. You knew the team had to roll the dice.” Accusatory. Cassie didn’t like that.

Cassie nodded in polite response anyway, as the engineer sighed, looking over at the space of the ships that were not in the pit box here, but with FIAR now, being examined.

“Carrera fucking Condor are going to take fifth from us if we’re not careful because the universe has been giving us shit dice rolls and all of us are paying the price. At what point do we just can this season and prep for next year? Come on, this is bullshit. Let’s just face facts, we have the setup to do better next year, right now, we’re going to burn everything to survive if that’s what we’re doing.” Cassie was blunt, as the race engineer, staggered by her outspokenness, knew he couldn’t speak out of turn. Not without offending someone back in Seoul, back in the chaebol, who would flip a table hearing this. His voice was timid.

“That’s unacceptable to the team. We still have to….we still have to fight. Hold our ground. The team at home will figure….” He started, as Cassie sipped down more drink from her metal water bottle, shaking her head, staring him down, cutting him off.

“Then get fucking better at hiding risky ship mods, maybe? They got us because we made it so fucking obvious. Even I could feel that. Maybe they’ll find that out at Al-Saqr, Silver Apex, and whatever the fuck they’re smoking at Carrera soon? If you’re gonna cook, maybe do it smarter next time before we all end up getting binned.” Cassie bitterly replied, exhaling, and walking away. She wasn’t even angry at any of them anymore, but this team, management could eat a thousand dicks right now if they had no response.

---

Sunday July 2nd, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1700 EST

Post Human

Layla Al-Nadir

Sitting inside of the Al-Saqr Paddock, Salma Nasri, MD, was attending to Layla’s post race complaints of a headache. A small one, nothing quite like before, but the hit with Harrison and Max had tripped something that hadn’t gone away. So in the diagnostics she went. A routine checkup.

“Okay. Seems like the standard, just interference between your limbs and your neural link. Give it a few hours.” A discharge of drugs into her thorax, right below her neck, and the pulse changed slightly inside of Layla, her feeling her brain cool as the neural drugs centred her a little more.

“Thank you. This has been getting better. Bad race from me Doc, but…..I am getting the hang of this. Ship just feels on rails when I get corners right. I need a few months and I’ll put that ship on first. I know it.” She added, as Salma wryly smiled ,focussing on her patient first.

“Perhaps. Let’s take it steady and monitor. You got through scrutineering, let's not push any harder today, no more sim work until later this week.” Salma added, as Layla stayed in the chair, letting Salma do her checks, running a regular diagnostic on the rest of her body, a standard post race procedure.

Soundtrack: Bogatyri- We Lost The Sea

And halfway through, as Salma went over Layla’s legs, the Jordanian looked across to the wall on the opposite side of the room with a slight convulsion. She stopped, feeling her neck heat pulse a little. That was strange. But it spread fast. Like a migraine but way worse. Like she was stopping her brain falling out of her skull.

Layla looked drowsy, not from drugs, but something else tripped. Staring into Salma, Layla put her hand into the Doctor’s. She felt something else inside of her own mind. Something always that had been there. And that decided there and then, to pour out. Like a dam being broken. Her head felt like it was fighting itself.

"Salma.... I.....I don't.....I'm not sure what's going on......this is.....oh.....this is really weird, I....I would miss Jordan......

.......this would….no……no, no, no, it’s, it’s feeling fuzzy." Layla croaked, tightening her fingers, then loosening, as she composed herself.
She frothed almost at the mouth, pushing forward into Salma, forwards from the chair. For what felt like the last time she’d feel a human touch. The last of her humanity in her, realising exactly what was coming in. Even for an experience neurologist, she was seeing im

“Layla, let’s calm you down...”

Even in metal hands, Salma felt like Layla was holding her like the last person she’d ever say anything to. Because every part of Layla was feeling like it was stripping away. Faster than even Salma had realised, as the ECG and neural link spiked, screaming in pitch on the monitors, going beyond any acceptable threshold. Layla felt her vision in her eyes burn, as if the static on the CRT-like interference had increased.

"Tell him I forgive him. Please tell my mother….father, this…..this was my choice. I love them, forever.....thi....." Layla cut off mid sentence, and with it, let go, and slumped in the chair, head back, eyes rolled into black, convulsing completely with her hands and legs, in what looked like seizure like behaviour. Salma instantly disconnected the neural line using any safeties, but to no measure, as the seizure stopped after half a minute, but Layla was rolled back and still not there.

"Layla! Layla, come on, don't drop out on us...." The neurologist screamed, barely being able to catch her, Salma putting her back up against the chair again, her mind pulsing with what to do. Layla had come close before to this. But even the drugs weren’t working, the neural stabiliser doing absolutely nothing at all in this situation, not even bringing her back to consciousness.

"Come on Layla, come back!" Salma rested her up, vitals still pulsing as the massive bank of monitors displayed her condition. Her heart was all over the place, but then settled back into position, but her eyes remained blank. The display linked to the neural monitor had crashed and had a green screen error. It was like the thing had just gone haywire, as it pulsed black, and rebooted. And when it did, nothing displayed, as Salma yelled for other medics to come in, flooding the room. They tried everything. The drugs did nothing, not even a shot of a complicated neural cocktail even did an ounce.

Al-Saqr needed their edge. But Salma had always been against this. Always wanted to protect Layla. Always wanted to sit on caution.

And the display still read nothing in ECG. Her heart pulsed back to normal, the synthetic actuators doing their job as Salma realised whatever had just happened, she just watched Layla go braindead. A body alive, a mind gone.

She put a hand to a friend, not just her patient, exhaling hard, trying to find the words. But none were coming out of her. As far as everything pointed to, the last thing she saw on Layla's data was a massive flood of data sweeping in and out like the tide, and now she was looking at her body go dead. Her augments keeping whatever of a body there was breathing, heart pumping, blood going, but nothing inside left that didn’t keep her cardiovascular function going. No response from her neural link. No ping did anything, the error code was like it was reading no activity at all. There was nobody inside. No neural link ever did that to someone, ever. The server was sealed too, so not like it was some external interference. Not unless some AGI had found its way into her skull and rooted about. Not unless this was the enhanced link taking control of its own. And deciding to take her back to the ship, or she’d flicked whatever sub-routines she could elsewhere. That was the only thing she could think of. But even then, what the actual fuck was going on?

Even a neurologist of her degree was now guessing, but for anyone normal, the symptoms were something like what she’d seen in her youth- a patient suffering a stroke, yet it seemed almost like a complete collapse of her brain function. No amount of ice, coolant, synthetic repairer or link was working. It was like the light had been snatched out of her right there and then.

And looking at her, metallic Jordanian hand still on her soft, fleshy own, Salma didn’t agree with Layla’s words. She had been complicit in this, it was her fault. Whatever Layla’s dreams were, she had a duty of care to her. And not letting her die was her only one. She was a believer in a higher power, and in miracles of some kind, even in spite of the evil she'd seen, the horrors, but not even brain reconstruction had anything, there was no light inside of her to even start again. She was down to those hopes now, because nothing looked good, and she’d watched Layla Al-Nadir, previous race winner, AG pilot, face of the Arabic Union, co-worker and friend, fade to dark. Omar entered the room, at the far end, as Salma looked at him, with the fire of a thousand suns behind her, and his head shaking.

“Not a word leaves this room. I’ll call the Emir and arrange a diplomatic transfer.”

---

“Homo sapiens, the first truly free species, is about to decommission natural selection, the force that made us...Soon we must look deep within ourselves and decide what we wish to become.” — Edward O. Wilson, from "Consilience, The Unity of Knowledge"

DELTΔ HYPER (Anti-Gravity Racing, Cyberpunk/Solarpunk RP)

Tuesday 18th June, 2094
The Riverside Cafe, Henley-on-Thames, Oxfordshire, United Kingdom
1100 GMT

Mist on the Water

Cassie Neves and Kais Zenix

Sitting inside of the quiet cafe, Cassie sipped away at her latte, wearing a black tech-hoodie and a beanie hat, earbuds in, the look of the racer that had been in the points at the British GP masked up versus her usual team gear and her typical appearance. She knew how to hide, or at least, how to keep a low profile. But Kais knew where to go. What table to turn up to. And she wasn’t quite sure what the fuck she was doing. Rage against the machine? Or just rage against her own? She recognised that much at least, as she checked her phone, sipping down more coffee, looking outside at the rainy morning by the River Thames.

A hefty thud crashed down upon the chair opposite her. “Bad idea to leave your earbuds in when waiting on an enemy.” Kais said. He turned down his jacket’s hood, and ran his hand through his hair - wet, of course. “I hate the rain. At least it isn’t as bad as in Tokyo.” He flipped the switch on the table for an order and simply said “Coffee, black.” Then he turned to her and greeted her with a nod. “Neves…”

Cassie tsk’d, peeling them out, popping them onto the table.
“Welcome to England.. And I suppose that’s an astute observation….for someone who used to kill people for a living. They have a really good passthrough.” Cassie barbed, sighing, leaning across the table.
“Some part of me can’t believe I agreed to this. For what it’s worth, Kais, this isn’t something I like the idea of. This is….well, because we both aren’t comfortable with where we are, are we?” Cassie muttered, keeping her voice down, the quiet cafe checked over by her agent’s team for any cameras, or anyone that could easily listen in.
“So what’s troubled you then?” Cassie spat it out, to the point, even by her standards, not mincing words.

“Wouldn’t be too quick to call me a ‘someone’ back then.” Kais snorted, though he still wasn’t quite sure if he believed it as much. Still, it might serve as much of a hook to get through to her. “Though I’m sure you’ve never felt like someone you’re not… Made to feel.” He sat back, looking for any response, a pang of recognition. Anything to get her on his side, if only for a moment. Because he needed info. “Look, I’m not here to be liked. I know you care about what is happening within the sport, and that you don’t like it. And though you may not believe it…” He let the words die out, thinking about Nora, Ava. Who would be next in the chain? He turned back to Cassie. “You said I was just as bad as Amy. I want to know what you meant. You know just as well as I that there’s weird things going on with her. I want to find out what. And why. You’ve been with Zygon, same as Amy. You know what it’s like on the inside. And you’re not an idiot. So you’re the only one I can go to on this.”

Cassie folded her arms, sighing, keeping her voice down but wanting to externalise.
“Well, you are very shit out of luck if I’m the last one left.” Cassie poked back with about the appropriate amount of sarcasm, sipping down more coffee, clanking the cup down with her synthetic arm and pushing it out of side.
“Amy doesn’t stop, she is completely, totally relentless in what she wants. So are you, from how you race. And maybe what’s in your blood….wait. Oh, you mean….shit.” Cassie stopped herself, realising mid sentence, sighing.
“You think she had something to do with Luna? They did something to her while they were in the team, here she is, carrying it forward?” Cassie asked, almost as if she was now chipping away at him. “I mean, it’s bold, but….she isn’t like that.”

“Your words.” Kais sat back again. “Wouldn’t be above Zygon, looking at it from the outside. How’s the pressure there, huh? Nice and comfy, with that teammate of yours?” Kais barbed back. “Don’t play me, telling me there isn’t weird stuff going on. You can call me a freak and walk away. Fine by me. But don’t call me an idiot, Neves. I can see it in your eyes.”

Cassie scowled, before sighing, knowing it wasn’t worth this. She’d been through this bullshit too many times with Dorian, but then again, he wasn’t wrong. And he had called her bluff out, looking into those X+Y optics.
“Well, Zenix….yeah, of course. Of course it’s fucking weird. And yeah, you wouldn’t be wrong. Of course shit’s weird.” Cassie sulked, quietly sitting in her chair, shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t even want to guess what goes on within Zygon’s top level but of course they do stuff. Nothing I’m partial to, mind. They are relentless, and it’s corporate to the bone, to a point where my image is being used in a way that would breach so many rules in the west. It’s a system made to make you a celebrity, then flush away when you don’t fit. You'd hate yourself too. It’s all smoke and mirrors. Oh, and my team-mate is frankly perfection, a genetic slate, factory made for manufacturing PR. And that’s why I looked into her….because well, I couldn’t keep myself.” The Luso-Scot leaned into the table, sizing up Kais, knowing that you didn’t get abs, muscles, complexion like that quite like that if you wanted to be in AG from birth.

“There’s a programme within the Republic of Korea that Zygon partnered on, that about thirty years ago, looked at making soldiers for their own army, given all the population decline, defending the newly integrated DPRK into it, you know, that thing. They scrapped it because of ethical concerns, because….well, you know, but I think they didn’t forget what was inside it. And at some point, someone I think sold the technology behind it to someone else. I wouldn’t be surprised if Amy’s parents, a rich family, were lucky enough to enjoy something a bit beyond gene editing, more like a designer child. Han is the same. Interestingly enough, they sent a shipment to Egypt. Sold it to an unknown buyer…which must have been incredibly expensive, and well, requires geneticists, and a serious commitment given you can’t just grow bodies in a bag like you would a koi fish. Mixed the phenotypes in from local genetic profiles, changed a few bits, but….that’s how far they go. That’s how I guess it confirmed…well, what I said for me were my feelings, because they got their perfection in time with Han. Guess it went full circle when it comes to you.” Cassie looked back, barbing back hard at Kais, her opinion unchanged. If anything, she’d almost felt like she saw confirmation from that.
Why was it she wanted him to know? She wasn’t sure herself, but perhaps almost as if to get it out of her system, because there wasn’t a soul she could tell.

“So anything is possible, Kais. What they did to Amy last year, nobody knows. But if they’re willing to do that, then what did you think they did to their star pilot that put a lot of executives into an incredibly successful position? They’ll push like anyone does, but maybe Amy’s got a little bit more.” Cassie asked back, knowing it wasn’t answering his question, but no doubt, would present why she had that slight undertone.

Kais was taken aback. He stayed silent for a while. The amount of information she was willing to give was surprising, it must have been weighing on her. Did she expect this information to get out somehow? Was it bait, given how she looked at him? Who knew, but it would definitely clear up a few things. The strange feeling he got around her. And… Shaqiq, she called him. “No…” He shook his head. “That’s not true. That’s impossible.”

Cassie’s eyes perked up, knowing she had gotten right back under his skin.
“Maybe it isn’t. But up until now, it had me thinking…..not exactly hard to draw the lines out, is it? Around the paddock, it’s not exactly small news that Amy’s got a bit more under her skin. Same as Layla has through picking herself apart. And now, I noticed….same as you. Look at the size of you. You’re bigger than a rugby player. It isn’t surprising.” Cassie flatly noted, finishing the brew in its entirety.

“Anyway, what are you trying to figure out? You’re maybe an ex-subject of that, and now you’re basically the second biggest face of the Arabic Union to the wider world, shy of Bionic Layla. Locked in a title fight with the big Silver Apex and Southern Cross, so you want me to tell you how to get under Peter Thatcher’s skin? Is it that?” Cassie replied, sighing as she finished a Biscoff that was next to her cup, sat back in her chair, trying not to let him bear too much on her mind, looking at him deep in thought.

“I’m trying to work out that answer as well. Makes two of us.”

---

Friday June 30th, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1000 GMT

La Sauce Deux

After thirty chaos-filled minutes, the teams, through the magic of editing, were back again, this time with a plate of questionable looking poutine in front of them, on a sharer plate.

It frankly wrote itself this stuff, because when you had a loose bunch of pilots, and maybe Kais and Ava in that mix, it all ended up playing out in a predictable fashion.

"Bon appetit, both of you!" Aurora called to the pair that were on the couch, and with it, let them get a taste of something truly Canadian that had been bastardised in its own way.

---

Saturday July 1st, 2094
Qualifying Day
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1400 EDT

Cassie Neves

Rain Dance

The rain was consistent, but gentler than the massive storm that had hit Montreal overnight, soaking the circuit and creating plumes of spray when AG ships rolled over them, but it made this feeling even more satisfying. Even more incredible, because in a shootout, one lap was all that mattered. Getting it right,

The circuit in the hands of Cassie was an absolute riot, the circuit highly modified from its original setting. With an extensive use of MAG-banked walls, handling was critical in the tighter bits, but stability had a role to play, while the wide open straights felt like a ship was pushed when on the casino straight and start-finish line, able to high scream up to top speed. In the rain, it was even more satisfying, because despite grip not being affected, it made visibility slightly challenging, and it became a game of the pilot mods coming into the fore, making the difference between the elite pilots and the good ones. That, and good fashioned pilot skill to use the LIDAR, RADAR and augmented system that could see through the pouring stuff, but more than anything, pure, total instinct and bravery. No safety rails, this was truly as close as it came to going blind and the ship's interaction came to everything in making it count.

Through Turns 1 and then Turn 2 of Virage, the ship screamed, Cassie smirking at the feeling of the handling, just coming to exactly where it needed to, turn 2's enormous bank being hit high and exited low to exert the force through the ship, feeling the magnets glue and then throw the ship out, like hitting a rail on a skateboard with significantly more wobble. This was more like it. Maybe it felt a little illicit, the chassis now tailored for circuits rather than street circuits, but here, it was exactly on the money. At 3 and 4, the ship wove, and at 6 the long turn had been turned into another banked section, making the change of direction violent but faster, spitting into 7's gentle bank that went over the St Lawrence River, before the next chicane at 8 and 9, requiring the ship to actually slow as the banking had been put up to avoid overruns and bunch up ships, but allowed for a fast exit. And then Turn 10. The famous Montreal hairpin had been modified with a crossover section, a massive super-structure mounted where it felt like a fast right turn, hitting a bank that turned hard left, the magnets pulling ships upside down right in front of spectators, over the circuit with a long gradient, holding upside down before coiling over and dropping ships back onto the straight, in which the Zygon-powered ship roared, ELS at full discharge, the whine screaming before the final test the circuit had. Turns 13 and 14 were untouched, and required a hard right and left pull of the ship through the yoke and mind, carrying as much speed as humanly possible because the circuit went all the way to a wall. No spectators were now here, because crashing was incredibly easy- you just had to carry too much speed at the exit of the chicane and you would be greeted by "The Wall of Champions"- so named because it was covered in paint, debris marks and racing drivers and pilots who were on flying laps, and binned it at the very last second. Not Cassie, though, she carried on and the ship's handling with a snap in her mind allowed her to weave just within the holographic track markers without so much as even contacting, blasting it down the main straight with everything else she had left. It felt like sprinting for the line, every part of her willing the ship forward.
"P1, Cassie, damn that was incredible!" The voice of her race engineer

And exhaling hard, she brought it around, watching the deltas over other ships on their one and only out lap give it a go. Cassie's time didn't change. Han posted a good one, but her own stayed top of the leaderboard.

Was it broken?

But in the pits, pulling in, the rain intensifying if anything, Cassie popped the canopy and heard the roar of the team, and her radio chirp.

"Cassie, that is one two, one two! What a lap, outstanding work from you and Han today, let's go!" Cassie heard over the comms, not from her usual, but Jinwoo, the team principal.

This whole thing was looking pretty insane, as she barely could find the mind to react, clambering out of the harness and down the steps, leaping into a soaking wet group of crew, cheering.
"Let's f**cking go!" Cassie yelled, leaping forward into a crowd of the team, who promptly posed for a picture with the still helmet-wearing Cassie Neves, polesitter at Canada. And Han had come into second too, making this a hell of a display from Zygon. Doubts would linger about just how on earth that chassis was legal here, but it had clearly punched through and made short work on track here today. And Cassie was loving all of this, taking her helmet off, getting under cover, and escaping the incoming media, a beam back on her face.

This was what everything she had been working towards had finally yielded, and it felt like a vindication. A chance to get one back at Valkyrie, even after forgiving Dorian, just to make a dent back at them.

Qualifying Results for Montreal:

docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1qF6cn…

---

Saturday July 1st, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1700 EST

The End Of The Contender

Jamie Hart

Sighing, Jamie sat looking at the analytics, as Peter shook his head. It was a clear incitement. He walked on past and patted him on the shoulder, as the team seemed to leave him and he was left to his own, this bit of the debrief over inside the pit box, in front of all the smart systems and holographic screens the team had to bear. Only Cal was left.

"Chin up, mate. They kept you to Canada. That was a promise he made." Callum noted, taking a seat on a plastic chair next to him, Jamie with face in hands, trying to keep his mind at bay with what was going on in there. Almost a stream of tears seemed to pour,

"I know, but.....yeah, this hurts. It's difficult...getting made to look like this. Fuck man, how the hell could I have done better! I mean, it's....it's not exactly like we can put what's in her head into mine." He almost harped out, feeling completely dejected, broken by this one. He knew it wouldn't last, but ninth? Ninth at his home circuit, in the best ship on the grid? It felt like an embarrassment, like he was in a gully, a ditch, a feeling of his own misery.

Nothing could fill his mind more. No amount of sports psychology, no amount of personal training, wellbeing, just about anything. High level sport was competitive, to the nth degree. And yet no matter what he had given, he felt like this hadn't been it. Silver Apex hadn't greenlit his next phase of augments, the ones they were willing to spend a fortune on, given the results just hadn't come through. And that was it. End of the road after this race.

His agent had told him the optics were bad, but a blind pilot could even see it wasn't exactly looking good. And even in spite of a shining career at Nordic Call the year prior, surprising critics, this had been the most significant setback of his entire career. The kind that right now, he was struggling to see if he could get past. It felt horrid, tense inside of him, knowing that nobody here had his back. Peter had given up races ago, hoping for the right setup, the right configuration of his mind to click. But nothing. Not even Amy offered. She'd ghosted him, always off on her own tours, own setups, and being fiercely protective, held back from helping.

So Callum considered his response, passing across a water bottle to him, nodding in agreement. He'd be moving onto another pilot soon. Another that would take a swing at the other half of the garage. And any chance of saving Silver Apex's title fight against not just Southern Cross at this rate, but even Al-Saqr.
"It happens, calm down mate and let's not go that far. This is a difficult seat to fill. Best you can do is go out and be remembered at your home GP. They're paying for the rest of the year, and your augments will get support for the next five. We've talked this through, that's pretty decent as offers go, and another team will want to take a punt on you when they know the ship's this difficult to tame. Half a bad year isn't going to destroy five years of good racing." Callum knew it wouldn't be much, as Jamie wiped the tears, sighing hard, leaning back.

"And I'd trade it all for a seat. I don't get it man....I mean what chance have I got. It's....fuck, sorry." Jamie uttered as Callum wrapped an arm around him, unable to find the words, Jamie near unconsolable.
"You'll be alright. We had a few good races here and there, let's forget the bad ones and let's make this one good. Come on, Jamie, let's have one last run at it tomorrow, after that, I'm sure you'll find something. There's plenty of opportunities out there." Cal replied, letting his assigned pilot rest his head on his shoulder, knowing he'd done this years ago with another pilot, and the conversation never got easier.

But winning was a necessity. And those who didn't have what it took went out. Cal hoped that Peter had learned his lesson, but part of him knew he hadn't, because so long as Amy didn't complain about the ship, so long as she had whatever the fuck it was that sat in her head, she'd always deliver. Even if Zygon did well today, Amy's season last year had proved that even with the team having a blip, she still found a way to put it on pole when the other teams fought. If only Jamie had done that too, Cal thought to himself.

The Canadian stood up, and dusting himself off, took his water bottle and nodded, looking to the Silver Apex ship, looking back to Cal with a glimmer still in his eyes.
"I'm gonna head to the Doctors for a bit. Get the mods checked for tomorrow. I'm with you, Cal. Let's....well, do what we can. I really hope whoever gets that seat next is ready for this." Jamie collected himself in words, as Callum took both chairs aside, nodding back.

"Good shout. And I'm sure they will know what they're in for, you know how this business is. This isn't easy, Jamie. But they'll get my backing. All the way. Same we've had, yeah? And you don't forget, I'm a call away." Callum added, as Jamie nodded, a smile coming back.

As if despite all of this, all his friends that he'd lost, all the positions, all of it, for a moment, at least he'd have something positive to remember. Cal had drilled him, gotten frustrated, celebrated that hollow podium on Luna, and pushed Jamie through what was arguably the worst four months of his life. Nothing prepared anyone mentally for it. But he'd stayed by his side, all the time, and even despite how he felt, he knew he had that at least to look back on.

"Thanks, Cal. Appreciate it." Jamie's voice returned a little, as with it, he left the pits and headed to the trailer, for what was likely a final checkup before tomorrow morning, and the race to come.

---

Saturday July 1st, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1900 EST

Rivalry

Harrison Makara

Looking through the data in the Southern Cross pit box, Harrison sighed, shrugging.
"It's fucking like this again, biases are off. Honestly, what are we doing with the ship?" Harrison asked, Harriet pulling up the data feed on the holographic display, shrugging. The Kiwi was short, wearing a flowy tech-tee in the team's navy and yellow, the design for Canada covered in a semi-luminescent beaver pattern. Southern Cross were experts at the subtler bits of marketing, and always had an easter egg in design here or there as a nod to their local track.

"Just a bit too much aggression, Harrison. The ship wants to brake late, I know, but we are cooking far too hard into Turn 1 and 2, and that burnt us time. No matter what you did, Zygon and Amy are on fire, and then the others too figured out how to make a ship turn. They figured out our tricks. Only a matter of time, so the margins are tight. You know that. Can't just make it up on the rest of the lap, we just need consistency." Harriet replied, the blue and white haired Kiwi absolutely a punk- to a point where it almost was a comical sight, she seemed more on Nora's level yet had been with Harrison for years now. She was a prodigy, to say the least, an expert in her field in anti-gravity engines and increasingly, now as his race engineer, at dealing with the instabilities of the Southern Cross ship. While that had been the main focus Owen had wanted the team to work on, it was now at the detriment of many other things that just hadn't put them where Silver Cross were.

"Maybe. But the ship just doesn't have the same point as it did in Italy. Something's not right with our upgrades. I can't tell what though. Nora can't either, but she is pushing through it. We'll have the summer to sort it." Harrison sighed, a little annoyed at the situation- every race that went like this, he lost ground on Amy.....and Nora.

The Aussie sighed, noticing Nora had completed her debrief, looking back to Harriet.
"I feel like she's trying to prove me up or something. I get she wants this badly, and she's a fighter. But since Luna, she's changed. Like she doesn't want to talk, I think...she's struggling with it all, and doesn't want to show her feelings." Harrison was honest in how cutting he was, and well, with Harriet he could divulge that side. The Kiwi engineer nodded, diplomatic, but knowing she was always going to be a way of stopping any stupid shit coming out of his brain to management.

"I get it....but that did nearly kill her, Harrison. She's had a rough run of things, so she's probably putting all her energy into not thinking about it. And I know that management are trying to manage the media off her too. So she's just getting on with what she knows best. And what's good for us points wise, is good for the team. Don't worry about her. Even if you think your yardstick is measured against her, let's focus on getting back to wins, if she's there or not." Harriet replied, the Kiwi keeping her analytical streak going, the virtual overlay playing out of the lap, Harrison looking through at not just hers, but Amy's, and Cassie's.

"Cassie finally got a ship that finally plays ball. Where the hell did that come from." Harrison muttered in distracted notice, as he looked back, taking his coffee back into hand, sipping down a bit more.
"That she has. I guess I'm frustrated. I tried giving Amy a run to the line last year, and didn't make it work. It feels like we'll get the constructors, but I guess I want to get that top step back again. Especially if the rumours are true and Jamie's getting booted out. We might get ourselves pushed back, so anything she can do, I want to know." The Australian added, as Harriet stood up, on her own prosthetics, walking over to the ship, realising she'd have to explain this differently than she had before.

"So, up here, you know how you yank on the airbrake with your neural link? Pull the ship into the final chicane?" Harriet started, letting it play out.

"Yeah, I get it, I snap it to then slam throttle on again. She doesn't." Harrison had spotted it, but not the same way his race engineer had, coming back to the hologram on the floor tracking ships, the circuit and the deltas via the quantum-powered analytics software the tea used.

"Nora's basically just letting off throttle and forcing the nose to dip, then applying countersteer and pushing through with the ship set at total loose. Even Amy would consider that insane, Nora's using lift-off oversteer, but more than that, she's not even hitting the brakes. Analysts are going to think they know what they're talking about, just say it's a style choice because our ship still has issues on stability. Carrera do it a lot, after all. But it's not that. She is thinking that move through, every time she does it, in her neural link, it's like she is pressing her face into the floor and then peeling off it, she's basically riding through the forces and carrying the speed out when she exits to throw the ship where the AG generator is and sucker it tighter without burning speed. It's only possible because whatever it is she has in her racing past, she knows how to tame a ship that wants to throw her around and she's fighting back." Harriet started, letting it play out from her feed on the projected floor, the four projection points of the hologram showing it up. Harriet cut to him, looking across.

"She doesn't think like me or you, and that is why Amy's even looking back. And I know you're aggressive, half the reason this ship was such a wild bastard is because you didn't care so long as it got you into corners deeper. Only reason she didn't get Paul is because that Valkyrie ship sticks through Sector 2 and Zygon are running something fucking illegal in my opinion with that chassis, but in those corners, I think something clicked. Like the augments just gave her the confidence to do something else. Maybe she's more comfortable not being in her skin than she is in it." Harriet noted, as Harrison chuckled, finishing his coffee, looking outside at the rainy pit, and back at Harriet.

"You think she's taking it personally?" He asked, as Harriet put hand to chin, thinking sarcastically for a moment before pointing a finger.
"Best sportspeople do. They get told they're falling off. They decide to fight back. They thought Nora was out, and yet..."
"Here she is."
"Here she is. When the fuck's your comeback?" Harriet poked, as Harrison chuckled, Harriet shutting the hologram down, sitting back down and going through the remaining systems, shutting them off.

"When I get a race engineer that tells me not to brake going into chicanes so I can find a few tenths and try not to paste the ship into the Wall of Champions." Harrison bit back, as Harriet giggled, knowing she could throw this level of crap at him, and he'd always be back.
"Hey, your call Harrison. Don't go writing off ships now. There's already one silly bastard who is getting fired this weekend. And who the fuck's stupid enough to come here?" Harriet asked, Harrison chuckling, cleaning up his own gear, shrugging.

"Someone who thought that the Outback didn't have enough shit weather. I mean, look at it, it's hurling cats and dogs!" Harrison pointed the rain out, as Harriet joined him in looking out at that rain, looking up to the Southern Cross talisman.

"Yeah. Well, we'll get them tomorrow. Team's grabbing Poutine in town. Unless you're not embarrassed about what we traded with MMR..."

"Look, they went overkill on that, and we made a really good one. Even though Nora insisted on sweet potato fries because she's become more Polynesian than me. Well, they put pineapple in it. Are they actually high? I mean, I like Hawaiian but..."

"Jesus, that's gross, Harrison, all this time we worked together and you like Hawaiian pizza? I am going to have to reconsider all the shit we've said...that's..."

"A taste? Come on. You copied Jen Lowry's hair implants last year?" Harrison bit back, as Harriet took no shit, sarcasm flowing back.

"I still think she copied me. She saw it, and bam. Can't a lady get the chance to fly her flag?" Harriet noted, as Harrison shrugged, not going as far as that himself, even with his biolumiecent tattoos.

"It's nearly the fackin' same as ours...."

"That's true! You spending time with TetraColour?" Harriet asked, as she finished packing away her bits, getting her day bag ready with her technical kit, her tablet and her other bits and pieces.

"The big paint firm? They were talking about doing stuff with Carrera and Beatrix, but somehow they went with us. Not quite sure, but then again, they probably want to harp on about how their new range of house paints have thermal magic in them and that's somehow sustainable. I mean....it is? Ish? But I'm not totally keen." Harrison's skepticism came in, as Harriet shrugged, glad she didn't have that issue.

"What it is, keeps us all gainfully employed. And you have to admit, the livery looks absolutely sick for Australia because of them. Their logo just fits. You know, that big isohedron thing...." Harriet was a racing nerd deep down, and well, Tetra's logo was a cool one to get. The half Malay, half Indian paint company had come to the fore through older sponsorships back in the day with Zygon, but now, were one of the bigger ones on the Southern Apex ship.
"Fair dinkum, it's not bad. But anyway. Shall we get going?"

---

Saturday July 2nd, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1730 EST

Delta Hyper: Canada Commentary

Back inside the studio, the last interviews were taking place on the evening before the crews all went home for rest, and it followed after the teams had debriefed and gone through qualifying. While the standard questions had been asked, the more traditional Delta Hyper format was followed again.

"Kais, how would you say you've found your new found challenge at the top of the table, and how are you feeling about taking on Southern Cross?

"Bea, how are you feeling about the rumours that Jen is being considered by other teams? Do you feel she deserves it after a long stint in Fitzroy, or do you think she could wait out to see what is coming in Fitzroy's new future?

"Paul, how are you feeling about the recent string of successful qualifying stints? You seem to be able extract a few more tenths in the ship over the last few races compared to Dorian, what do you think it is you're finding with the ship this year, or are the team tailoring it more to your liking more than Dorian's feedback?

Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP) (COMPLETED)

Vulpine Space Command Centre, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

Skye Rosalind Lyons

Rebirth

0650 Hours

Soundtrack: M83 - Solitude (Felsmann + Tiley Reinterpretation)

Pulsing on the floor, Skye watched as Ebrima arrested Zhao, the words barely leaving her, the ringing in her ears still piercing, despite her outburst from earlier. He was breaking fingers in the process. He was just the monster she thought he was....exactly what made him perfect for Raven. Experienced enough to know when to smash things to pieces, smart enough to know how to use it. And yet, doing something she wasn't sure what to think. Because she barely knew what to do. Apart from crawl.

Watching her old body get a rag over it, she saw her face for the last time, not in mirror, but in flesh. The blue face paint, the red hair and black helmet disappear, as she crawled, fumbling a little on her knees as it felt like she was getting used to, looking up, staring him in the eyes as she cuffed him to the wall, and then took him away, pistol in hand.

Every thought pulsed in her head. He better come back, she thought to herself. Put me out of my misery, now, or I'll hunt you to the end of the earth, her mind roared. And anyone else who thinks this is a good idea. Oracle too.

And held that thought back in horror. She wasn't like Rose. She was never going to be. Ebrima did what he had to for the safety of the team. Much like she would have done. A decision she didn't like, but ultimately, was one that served a good. Like she'd told him. Turned him into what she sculpted. Just like Zhao said...prophetically. And she had to fight that inside her. She had no power. No choice. But that wasn't what held her back. Even having a little less muscle density than her usual self, she still knew exactly what she was capable of, and coming to realise the stakes were so much bigger than her own self fuelled that.

And she looked on, crawling to her body, peeling the FN FNX out of her holster, scooping mags, and taking any other personal possessions, as if she was scavenging the old bits of her to leave behind the new. Positioning herself onto her knees, wiping the crap from her eyes again, exhaling, looking on, the freezing cold touch nothing against her new heart pounding in her chest, as she looked down. The scars, cuts, bruises, the marks that made her who she was, gone. She patted her neck, and no mark, nothing at all.

It was strange. Dead yet alive. And thinking to herself she was being left by Ebrima now. Had he just left her to die? To be discovered like Rose, was this betrayal? Was it him, tided over by the promises of Zhao, realising in the final hour, in the final moment, something she hadn't? Comms in his ear, promising him something she would never give? Something she'd missed, something so obvious, someone driven by money, profit, the thrill of this, rather than service, honesty? Or just a realisation of what she'd told him to do, the greater good, knowing that it certainly meant something Skye couldn't have wanted less?

All that came to an end, as the pistol rang out, and the M1014 rang out. And swiftly, he returned, carrying a coat, Skye like a rabbit in the headlights, taking her Scout-styled knife and tactical watch off her oldy body's wrist, crawling a little more, trying to stand but fumbling, looking on. His comment reassured her, as she shook her head, not saying a word given the feed, which promptly, Skye cut out, killing the storage capability of her old tactical glasses capability remotely, to stop it falling into enemy hands or worse, Oracle's.

Getting picked up, Skye chuckled at the thought of what she was now, wrapped in the officer's coat to keep her modesty, and what Ebrima had done. Still in shock. And she looked back one last time, one final time at Skye 1.0, the woman she'd always been. And would never be again. The tattoos, the pain, the hurt, the paint, the woman that was unbreakable, finally, broken. Dead here, and wrapped up in a black exo she knew that Sam had spent too long on. And now, a distant speck in the room, no light in there, nothing left. The whole concept of consciousness transfer really unsettled her. Was she even really the same person, was this just a run-on of Skye from that body or something else, just an end there and a beginning now? She had no idea. But the memory, the feeling, the want, it was still inside her.

None of this made sense. None of it all. Could she have died ever before and respawned like that when she was an operative before Raven? Or was Zhao right? Trying to prove a point in his own ego? Was any of what he said true? Could it have been? And how the fuck did Oracle accept that offer? Were they hoping Skye would be killed here, or would understand a greater good? Like always?

She had no response to that, as Skye looked over to Ebrima's head, tapping him on the shoulder, sighing, coming to an alcove before Adam's position.
"Wait here. Let me try and move." She retorted, as she slipped the mags into the coat pocket of the officer, as well as the FNX. A personal possession to keep.
"Fucking hell. Thank you. I don't think I could have done that better myself...guess we're about even." Skye's words may have carried like a hug, as she sighed, buttoning it up for her modesty, the sizing for someone significantly fatter, but about her height. The sarcasm echoed back to when Skye first found Ebrima, and that first firefight. How the tables had now turned, as she leaned against the wall, like a toddler learning how to walk, but her vocal cords were coming into fruit.

"Oracle's smart enough to know what happened. But smart enough to realise we're the only asset that stop the end of the world. Stick to the story." Skye retorted, sighing, hearing the sound of gunfire intensify, the bunker cleared but the fight outside coming to a climax, and no doubt, the lights working to get to the hostages. Looking up at him, she rested against the wall, stretching her legs, exhaling hard.

"Leave him to me....blimey, you have a heart in there, Ebrima." Skye retorted, hearing the clattering of footsteps come closer, the Scot turning and ready to react.

Adam cleaned the corner, LMG raised, stunned at the sight of what he saw, as he saw Ebrima next to Skye, one kitted as normal, the other clad in nothing but a PLA officer's coat.

"What the fuck?" His voice pierced, the LMG staying high, just in shock horror. "Boaro, this is..."

"Skye Lyons to you. Zhao activated a dead man's switch the moment we hit his office. Only reason I'm alive is because PLA forces killed the bastard before we got him and Boaro made sure I came back to life. In another body mind. It's an extremely long story. But believe me....it gets more messed up. It's like being hungover." Skye retorted with dry humour, knowing Ebrima most likely wanted to explain, but it needed to come from her accent. Her voice, her sound.

"How in the fuck is it possible? This is a miracle, it's....it's exactly like her." Adam retorted, his slight break in English coming through, as Skye shook her head, still wrapping her head around it.

"Well, it turns out I've got the neural link bedded into my head, same as hers, different body. Local transfer, and it near enough went instantly." Skye retorted, as Adam kept the LMG in a position to fire, but lowered.

"Holy shit." Adam barked, as Skye shook her head.

"Yeah." Skye dryly commented back, the silence broken by gunfire in the distance, as Adam broke to the next topic, almost unable to keep forming any rational thought, interrupted by another rattle of the bunker, from whatever the hell was going on outside.

"Sure you aren't going to do what....well, do what she does?" Adam asked, as Skye shrugged.

"I have no idea. Dying's new to me, and fuck knows if there are any more bodies. Or if he pulled a gambit on me, before one of them popped a few rounds in his head. I don't know, Adam. This is all a bit fucking mental. All I know is, they wanted to make sure Zhao was dead before us." Skye replied, as she drew attention to matters at hand.

"We need to regroup. Shadow should be going after the hostages....Artemis troops will be looking after them, so they won't give up easy given they're on Rose's payroll. Or else, any chance we have of a launch is off the cards." Skye retorted, coming back into focus, standing up, just about, Adam walking over, checking her over, head at level with Ebrima in his exo as he snapped his eyes at his.

"I fucking know what you did, Ebrima. And I hate to admit it....but it was the right thing to do. We stick to her story. Or else we all fucked. We'll figure out where this rabbit hole goes when this is finished." Adam coldly retorted in his typically Polish accented voice, looking to Skye, curious to see her thoughts. "You have a long term plan given our situation?"

"Kill the bitch up there, after that, I have concepts of one." Skye retorted, Adam chuckling, shaking his head as he scooted a AK-12 off one of the dead Artemis mercs and passed it up to her, along with a vest.

"That will be enough for now." Adam looked to Ebrima, loading in a new box, checking the FN over.

"No more contacts left down here. But there's another path to the control room, more of them between us and them. I'm going to need help. Boaro, you with me?"

DELTΔ HYPER (Anti-Gravity Racing, Cyberpunk/Solarpunk RP)

Sunday 16th June, 2094
Silverstone, Northamptonshire, England
1700 GMT

Outro to Silverstone

As the teams wrapped up, and the festival calmed down, Aurora stood with mic at ear, beaming to the audience.

"Thank you for joining us in Silverstone, as I'm sure you saw, we had one hell of a race. Canada always provides a treat, and with Al-Saqr hunting down Southern Cross and Silver Apex, are we in for a three way title fight? Let's see, but for now, thank you for joining us, and have a lovely evening. Bye for now, and enjoy our outro!"

Soundtrack: London Grammar- Lose Your Head

The race picks up with the bars opening, as the ships rattle off, and the fight comes into play. The crash between Cassie and Paul, the swearing, the bravery on show from Bea and the absolute pace of Kais darting through, making plays nobody else could dream of, dominating. His reaction, his joy cracking through all the pain, all of it, the dejection of Amy on finish and the grin from Han, up on podium for the first time. Lose your head? Not if you had something to give, because in the rain, the beaming sunshine, in everything Great Britain had to offer, this was what it was like to play at the finest margins, the montage cutting on the crowd screaming as Bea cut through Layla, Dorian and Cassie on the last lap, the crowd on their feet, individuals in it screaming, and the camera peeling back out, drawing back away from it all.

---

And back to the factory the teams all went. For some, it was the shortest journey of the year when it came to the British pilots and teams, for others, plenty more distance needed covering. The vibes felt more tense than before, because it felt like marginal gains were coming into effect, and the teams were getting closer and closer behind Silver Apex. It felt like the pressure was climbing, and for each team, they were at the end of a sprint that lead into the summer break after Canada- an opportunity for non-critical staff and pilots alike to take a well deserved holiday, extremely rare outside of the week they got off at Christmas. Racing would calm down as other sporting events took the stage, like the 24 Hours of Le Mans, the Women's World Cup and 2094 Olympics in Nairobi, which were filling the sports void of many racing enthusiasts.

One more race to get through, and the majority of the teams were now in full completion mode, trying to get final upgrades out before Canada, like a deadline at work, so they could enjoy their leave. While few substantial ones were left as a result, and sponsors themselves were pivoting to the summer of sport that was opening up in July, the teams certainly would be occupied. PR activities, like drifting at Brooklands for Bea and Paul, the further media invitations that Layla got talking about her changes on the Arabic Union's primetime evening television show, to Ava even being featured in an advert for a Chilean sports nutrition company were in full effect before those commitments would likely break away for their rest. The second half of the season was yet another marathon, and plenty was on the line.

From the white rooms of Zygon's ship, where Cassie watched on as the team fiddled with the chassis more, to the forested greenery of Valkyrie's campus where Dorian took in the chirping of birdsong after a long session of the sim, each team geared up for a trip to the Maple Leaf having flag of Canada.

---

BLOOD//BONE//BORN

Black screen. The slow, mechanical pulse of a child's heartbeat begins. A soft hum of AG engines begins to rise, the whine following each.

Florence narrates, a different voice to Aurora's but born from experience.
"It begins at the first pulse. Before you take your first breath."

An amber pulse glows on a medical monitor. A 3D ultrascan twists into focus — a rotating image of a foetal form curled in utero, ripples of biometric data and coloured vitals dancing along the edges. The sound of a distant crowd swell fades in like a memory.

"Talent isn’t made. It’s encoded. Somewhere, in here… a pilot is born."

Cut to sitting in a cot, staring up, looking at the wooden rotating carousel, a baby crying. It spins slowly — instead of animals, it holds tiny wooden AG ships and classic race cars. On a screen in the next room, the glow of a Formula AG race. The roar of the crowd seeps into the nursery.

"Sometimes, it starts with a sound. A blur. A dream."

A lifetime's obsession with one thing and one thing only begins right here.

Soundtrack: Fatboy Slim- Right Here, Right Now

And then getting into a kart, barely old enough to walk, but wanting nothing more than to try. First time, not so good. Second time, absolutely on it. The buzz dominates the sound, the feeling of your ribs, shoulders, arms, body being thrown around and shook so violently, yet wanting to go faster on every corner, apex, kerb and straight.

"It’s pain, precision, persistence. A thousand tiny failures carved into muscle memory. Synapses that no machine can replicate."

Signing a rookie kart contract. Dad claps your back, trying to smile. You're already looking at the kart outside the window. Late nights at the kart tent. The sting of protein shakes and lactic acid. The first crash. The first win. The bruises. The screaming joy. The loneliness.

"You get knocked down. And you come back harder. Hungrier. You chase milliseconds. Inches. The perfect line. Your gauntlet to throw."

The years pass by. And you're still there. Still addicted. Still obsessed, with your race suit, helmet and gear sitting there, unwashed, but always used, the computer still on from where you were on the latest version of Codemasters' AG racing sim.

Coming home and messing around with the kart after hours in a marquee, dad looking across, even he looks bored.

Going out in the rain and spinning, and going again, and again, finding the way to go faster and faster, dominating and lapping the field. And dad's smile seems to be ecstatic, picking you up with joy.

The signing of a bit of paperwork, with a lot of adults around. Junior Formula next. Adolescence hitting hard. Schoolwork becoming irrelevant versus doodles of anti-gravity ships, cars, team gear. Reality hits when you realise quantum physics is still quite important in racing.

"The world narrows. School fades. Relationships blur. The goal sharpens. This is more than sport. It's everything you breathe. It's marginal gains, data points, honing your instincts, finding your perfection."

And the work starts.

Running, cycling on a rainy track, endless sim sessions, running more, throwing up, downing lots more electrolytes, and going further than you'd ever go. School starts to fade. This is the future. Everything you were hunting. Going from just a normal human being into an athlete.

The scream of Formula cars, overtaking, getting overtaken nastily at the Hockenheimring, spinning out, and the feeling of gravel, sand, and the call in your ear right as you feel the car die. "You alright?"

"But you're not alone. They want it just as bad as you. Just as much."

The return to the gym. Pumping iron, on the treadmill with a VO2 monitor in your throat, and a whole set of watching physiotherapists, who are looking at tablets and data.

A doctor putting more paperwork in front of you. A gulp, and a signature.

"Your body can only go so far. So you made it better."

Mum and dad are so proud. They saw you grow up, happy for your successes so far, but they sit with you at the table over food....and are in shock, dropping knives and forks when you tell them what you have planned.

Looking in at the light above, and the light fading to black.

Waking up in a hospital, blinking and realising.....you're more than human when you roll off the bed, and put what are a metallic clack to the tiled floor. You have eyes that can spot a Silver Apex logo in the crowd from half a mile away, because when you look outside the window you're able to focus and then back better than anyone. Carbon legs and arms on your bare body, fused in, a heart that feels like it's able to make you run like nothing, muscles in your core that are fused with biochemical stimulant, and a new prescription to ease you in. You look in the mirror, and what you see is far more than what you were before. This was what you were lacking. This is what you needed.

"You push yourself beyond your limits. Become superhuman."

Inside the canopy, helmet on with your increasingly sponsored race suit, you touch your neck, and you have a soft pad, where your brainstem interfaced with a neural link that when hooked into the ship, makes you feel like it wraps you inside when you do it for the first time. It feels like you dive into a portal, and come out the other end transformed. You FEEL the sidepods sucking air, the weight, the control up close. This is a bond like blood, pulsing faster and faster in you.

"And when you link into that ship... it’s like coming home. Every vibration, every lift, every gust of air— you feel it. The ship isn’t a machine. It’s a bloodstream, and it screams as much as you do."

In a Junior Formula AG ship, roaring through Montreal, finding that extra something through the Wall of Champions, holding pace past your team-mate. Feeling alive. No wheels, or tyres. This is anti-gravity racing, and the corners come faster and faster, fading into a blur...

And repeating. Again, and again. From sparks from contact at Spa, to media appearances, this is the life. Dominance, beating your championship rival, drinking beers with the team in hospitality in a small pit, finding romance with a model who caught your eye back in Monaco, holding a hand out and leading them up onto the balcony of the small Junior AG team's stairwell, sharing a kiss before being pulled into yet another meeting. The fight with your team-mate, arguing over qualifying, getting a telling off from the Principal, and still, going out there again, winning, and spending another late night with the analysts before getting thrown into a pool.

"This is the rhythm of life at 500 kilometers an hour. Where the seconds are endless, and history waits at every apex."

And back to reality. More gym work, this time, you're basically running faster than most people could cycle. And cycling faster than most people could drive in town. Your heart echoes in your head, the rain, the wind, anything, none of it stops you, because despite dealing with technical mishaps, you're looking in the mirror at someone who just seems to be superpowered. In the simulator, you find you are destroying whatever you were before, lap times falling, new strategies forming, new bits coming through. The small pits give way to big ones. The small time engagements in school are gone. You're an adult now. Barely legal to drink, but a prodigy.

Another late flight. A check into a hotel, on your own, and passing out on the bed because no amount of caffeine is keeping you awake. And waking up, in the pit, sitting with analysts, going through data, standing in front of cameras, constantly in the view of the media, the fans that want autographs, the press conferences, the meetings, the evenings with mechanics and pit crews, the feeling that this is all coming to a head. Dealing with young love, the relationship always getting questions, and struggling to make the time because it's all coming to this. The pressure, your blood pulsing through you, your brain unable to handle it, and resetting the sim once again. And then it turning to reality. Everything you've done has led you here. The breathing, the grip, the touch, it all feels like it was made for now. And you remember how long this road has been. And how you're going to end this, on the track.

"History that's yours to make."

Heart-pounding, mind altering, synapse pulsing, aggression, flow, G-forces, and finding a way through.

And taking the title, coming out of the corridor onto the podium. The glory, the victory, trophy held high, champagne spraying, fist pumping, and hand raised high, as you feel alive.

And then seeing the sight of a nod in the crowd.

"But there's always another step. You climb the foodchain, and you want to grow."

Cut to what looks like a white-room, and a ship cradled against a metal frame, what looks like a Fitzroy Orbital ship, of all things. Maybe not the start you were looking for. But oddly, and given all the rumours, it seems hilariously fitting.

"Ready?" The voice asks as the technician points to the ship, and you realise this is a bit more space age than even what you believed before. This is something even more incredible.

The feeling as the canopy opens, and as the ship unlatches from the metal rack, clambering up the step on the side, sitting in, and exhaling hard.

Garage doors hiss open. A roar explodes from outside — fans scream. The camera detaches from your view, soaring skyward as it reveals the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve nestled against the St. Lawrence River, towers rising into the clouds.

"This is Formula AG."

"Radio check?" The voice in your ear crackles, as you barely think it and the ship goes out, to the screaming voices of Montreal, the view picking up the ship, and the team in the background, drawing back and peeling away, nestling one of the best racing circuits in the world.

Welcome to the life.

---

---

DELTΔ HYPER

Episode Nine: The Wall of Champions

---

Friday June 30th, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1000 GMT

La Sauce

The intro felt a little bit flat compared to maybe the history gush of Japan and Britain, the beauty of Italy, the sheer wonder of Luna, the Bond-esque feeling of Monaco, or the absolute onslaught that was New Zealand. But, after that, an overview of the circuit followed, and cut back into the main paddock building, and the teams preparing for the weekend.

As usual, a shift to the Delta Hyper couch being on a rooftop of the paddock building of the circuit, normally exposed to sunlight but this time around, covered with a white marquee, the view in the background left open of Montreal's skyscrapers, the city booming given the migration north out of the dustbowls of the Great Plains and Mid-West twenty years ago. Ramshackle neighborhoods had turned into highly dense, urban neighbourhoods, that added a technological feel to the historic core that felt distinctly French.

"Beatrix, Ava welcome to Canada!" Aurora beamed, as the sofa felt a little bit odd, given the location was right by a kitchen. Bit strange, why on earth were they in a catering tent on top of the paddock? And also, why on earth did it look like someone had been in here before?

"Kais, Layla, would you like to open the envelope and show it to the audience?"

And with it, Aurora covered off the question that they would likely be having internally as they read, skimming to Paul and Dorian, in their version of the edit.

"Paul, Dorian, we did check your dietary requirements, and we hope this hasn't come up before!" Aurora beamed, as the edit cut to the Carrera couple.

Ava looked to Bea, shaking her head, giggling. "They want us to make poutine! Okay, I knew it was going to be Canadian themed, but come on!" Ava chuckled, showing the card to the camera, the scene cutting.

*Make a bowl of delicious poutine, and use the ingredients in front of you to put your own spin on it.*

Layla had the same, licking her lips.

"Yum! Okay....I mean, this is why I don't have an artificial stomach, though I know Dorian is going to be so pissed....."

Dorian was read correctly by Layla. As in, his stomach growled at the very concept of putting gravy onto chips and curded cheese.

"****ing Canadians! They put gravy and lumps of cheese on frites? Okay, Paul, you're Belgian so you're weird when it comes to frites, so I know this will be fine for you but....come on! My mother would be screaming! You cannot make Frites pour Francais and just.....argh!" Dorian made even Aurora laugh, as it was clear Dorian had a firm view on this from what was an extremely biased French culinary palette, giving Paul a shove in a joking manner.

"Well, we've got you here. We've got the fries all cut up for you, but it's up to you to make the gravy and the cheese curds from what we've provided, and add anything else you think tastes good from the ingredients on the table. Though don't look at that maple syrup....that is for another interview. And just to add to the spice....check the text at the bottom." Aurora left that there, knowing it was almost certain that one of the pilots would be insane enough to pour it in.

She had an internal bet with the production staff on who that would be, and sat there, almost as if she was entertained by this whole process, but a whole range of other ingredients were left there too. After all, it wasn't just a normal Poutine, but a chance to make something a little more....weird.

"Wait, other teams are trying our food? Are you actually insane? Putain de merde!" Dorian asked, as Aurora giggled, nodding.

"Carrera's is trying Al-Saqr's, Al Saqr's is giving Valkyrie's a go, and Valkyrie's trying Carrera's....you have 30 minutes, best of luck!"

And well, what was likely to be one of the stickiest situations in Delta Hyper's interviews so far began. As the cameras were left to roll, and cut between the groups of pilots, who no doubt, were about to make free content in how they worked, or didn't work together, it would reveal how they were under the pressure of not driving, but making something that was about to either be an affront to God (and basically the entire province of Quebec), or mastery.

Layla's tech focus was actually challenged here, Dorian was just having to deal with the concept of fries coming with what was treacle-like beef stock, and Ava, used to the more typically Latino style of cooking, was now making something that looked like it belonged in a hipster food truck.

For a moment, the tense constructors fight began to go, because the two pilots, used to rigorous amounts of media training, answering questions on pace and speed, were now thrown into something that no amount of their upbringing would likely elicit. And of course, every viewer at home was here for it.

---

Friday June 30th, 2094
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States)
1500 GMT

Post-Practice: Canada

Soundtrack: Metrik (feat GUNSHIP)- Electric Echo

Practice was a simple affair, as ships came back in, after a session in what was heatwave weather. It was absolutely boiling in Montreal- the middle of summer bringing temps up to 39C, making it feel searing, making air con in the paddock, and cooling systems in the ships work overtime, shade, sunscreen and water a necessity to avoid getting burnt. The smell of Junior AG ships qualifying, right before a massive rainstorm was on the horizon occupied the circuit visitors, because as soon as it was done, they were running for cover.

Speaking of being under a cover, inside the Delta Hyper booth, the various pilots filtered in...

"Not where we want to be. The ship is good, but we just lack the absolute stability I was hoping for." Harrison noted, the circuit incredibly tight and fast, benefitting the ship's pace and superior handling, but being low in stability, making it an absolute bronco to manage.

"Well, the ship is on rails. I want to smash the lap record this weekend, and I think I've got the tool for the job." Amy beamed, shrugging off other comments.

"Top level racing is harder as you get older....but nothing replaces the experience and I love Montreal. A demanding circuit, it has speed, corners that push and it's a joy to get right." Dorian replied, feeling good here, the Valkyrie ship back to its strength on a circuit like this.

"Yeah, well it's our home race! And the fans are right behind us, so I'm so proud to represent MMR here!" Wedge called out with the crowd whooping in response, giving the home team the vibes they wanted.

"Honestly, a poor session from me and Vlad, but we'll come back in qualifying. We're still learning the ship, but it is what it is!" Kofi shrugged, a little down more than usual, but, he had to speak his mind on this one.

"I wish you'd stop asking questions like that! Right now I am contracted to race for Fitzroy Orbital AG, so I guess that is where all my energy is, though it's always nice to be recognised!" Jenny blushed, brushing the question off, but handling it diplomatically as she could.

Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP) (COMPLETED)

Vulpine Space Command Centre, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

Fireteam Shadow

High Speed, Low Drag

0645 Hours

Purna and Eloise moved quick, racing out of the port and headed towards the bunker, as well, the dawn chorus broke with the rest of the team arriving.

As the fighting went on, the two lights snuck through a cut gap in the fence at the launch pad, bounding from support building to building, using cloaking to make the big gaps and avoiding what felt like the start of WW3 out there. The port had completely been detonated, and no doubt, paved the way for the last fifteen minutes of total anarchy there. Going quiet made sense, and for that time being, compared to the anarchy from earlier, Purna and Eloise had done what they did best- becoming ghosts. Scavenging magazines, and dodging moving APCs, IFVs, jeeps and masses of soldiers moving out to reinforce the barracks and outer perimeter of the launch site. They weren't looking inside anymore.

Moving across to an oversight of the command centre, the half-buried bunker-like view looking across to the two launch pads, Purna stayed low with Eloise behind a depression in the ground, watching on at the movement all over.

"Queen, we're in position to enter the Command Centre via ducting, how copy?"

"Solid copy, Viper. Find the hostages and secure them before anything else. Leave the HVT to me, we're en route to enter from the other side. He'll be well defended." Skye's response was a bit out of time, but was when they were repelling the counter-assault at the checkpoint, and so put Fireteam Shadow a little bit ahead of the other two groups.

Purna looked to Eloise, shaking her head.
"Boss wants all the credit. Then again, those hostages are critical if we want to even attempt a launch.....what the hell did I sign up to." Purna said the quiet part out loud, still not quite certain he believed in any of this, but well, so be it. They moved again across the concrete, cloaking up and like shadows in the morning light, dodging rays and enemies to get into position to start sneaking in.

Pointing out a ventilation grate, Purna latched it with his grapple, and pulled himself in, before leaving the line down for Eloise. It was an uncomfortable crawl, but crawl they did, as the sound of the bunker's internal systems could be heard, the crawl almost like a stress position, but one he was sure that with her smaller size, Eloise was finding easier than his muscular frame.
"Sorry that I pushed ahead. Normally I'm more of a gentleman." Purna noted, crawling in this space not exactly a nice prospect, but, it go them where they needed.

Moving inside to the end of the shaft, Purna dropped down, the two in phase with the other teams as they entered into a ventilation room, the tiny gaps barely able to fit them both, but making this entry good. More men could be heard on the other side of the door. Artemis troops, given they weren't speaking Chinese, but English and Spanish.
"No choice but to move forward, Archer. I'd normally want to avoid a fight, kill the power, sink them with gas, be clever about this. But if we want to save the hostages, we might need to be a bit more direct here." Purna adjusted his pistols, checking each mag, nodding to her. He took out a small device from his tool stash, slipping a wire under the door, adjusting his NVG set to look.

"I put five targets immediately outside. Down the corridor, I think there's about another six by our hostages, can't be sure. They're keeping them by the control centre's desks, give or take half a dozen staff. We're outnumbered....but they won't see it coming. Move smooth and clean, let's drag them out and get them looking from the hostages, then we can have an easier time of it." Purna asked, pulling the tool back in, getting a smoke grenade ready from his tactical rig, adjusting his infrared NVGs, and keeping a USP ready to go.

---

Vulpine Space Launch Pad, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

Fireteam Hammer/Anvil

The Titan Fight

0645 Hours

"Chaos, Boomer, keep the Zulu occupied, me, Frigga, JamJam will take Laura on!" Athena yelled back, this fight certainly not an easy one. Her coils weren't having effect, so she switched to the mini missiles, moving fast and trying to pepper missiles into the mech, avoiding gunfire, counter flame and everything else Laura had to give. If there was a health bar for Laura, supposedly so, it was a hell of a big one.

"Laura, come on, this is a losing fight!" Athena bellowed through her speaker, as the operative inside the mech tattled.

"What, after Raven, and you treated me? Come on, I'm no sucker!" The flames belched, as Athena used her jump pack to leap into another bit of concrete, using a bit of tubing to escape the flames, the heat so intense it almost felt like it could melt the titanium skin she had.

"Jesus, Freya, talk some sense into her! Anything, I'm going to keep flanking and try and unhook her tanks, we're gonna get torched like this!" Athena yelled, the fight on the launch pad continuing to rage, like two kaiju bearing down on what already seemed like quite an impressive group of operatives. This was of course, an absolutely stupid fight, but then again, heavies in their prime against two other heavies in their prime, it just seemed far too made for the last bulwark that Rose had put in place at this facility.

---

Both Sides of a Smile

Vulpine Space Command Centre, Île de la Tempête, Reunion

Skye Rosalind Lyons

Both Sides of a Smile

0645 Hours

It was relentless inside the command centre. Bullets flew, and Skye improvised fire with the M203 on a HK416 she had scavenged, blasting apart another internal checkpoint with direct fire, creating room for Ebrima to move. And well, with his drones and his capability, she was letting him lead, Adam holding a flank and keeping a group of PLA soldiers at bay within one of the offices within the hardened building.

"Adam, hold here and keep our exit clear!"

Skye and Ebrima turned the corner, the next room having a few more guards, the PLA soldiers no match for Skye and Ebrima, Skye clattering the trio inside the office with a bloody mess with the rest of the magazine, stomping through as she ran towards the next door. Yanking a flashbang, she nodded to Ebrima to kick it in, before dumping the flashbang through the cracked metal door, and then pushing inside as soon as it slapped, the VHS-02 kept high and pointed.

---

There was nobody inside bar a 50-year old looking, half Cantonese, half British looking man in a tan cotton dress shirt, sitting calmly at his desk. He seemed rather removed, considering the absolute carnage that had happened outside.

"Hands up! Oracle, we have positive ID on George Zhao, say the word!" Skye yelled, rifle raised, knowing she would pull the trigger within fifteen if she heard no response.

"Wait, before you put a round through my head...I suppose you want to know where she is." Zhao replied, as Skye smacked the butt of the rifle into him, knocking him to the floor from his chair, rifle to head.

"Talk then, dickhead." Zhao pointed up with his finger in response to Skye's comment.

"Up there. You missed her. Launched from a pad in South Korea, three hours ago with a satellite. She's already out of play." Zhao started, cackling a little, realising entirely what had happened.

"She sent you here to kill me. Baited you into this knowing Oracle would expect her to come to me, and hoped you'd get yourselves killed. Or best case....kill me in the process, drag you away from what mattered. That is the Rose I know. Ruthlessly ambitious, but endlessly selfish. I suppose I'm glad I still have some cards left to play."

"We'll sort her out, for now, your usefulness is running out." Skye yelled, as Zhao shook his head, Skye putting barrel to chest.

"They won't let you kill me. I cut a deal. Your boss want what I know. Any second now, actually it should come through your...."

"Break, Queen, we have an update. Arrest Zhao and once the facility is secure, get a couple of your team to look after him. Repeat, Zhao is to be captured, we need him alive. How copy?" The voice in Skye's headset broke everything, as she didn't respond to Oracle. Not yet.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Skye uttered, as Zhao crawled backwards, washing the blood off his face, smirking.

"Oh, oh my. Look at how the tables turn. Well, you've won, Miss Lyons. Technically you're almost my daughter....though mine wouldn't hit me like that. You get to save the world after all. But what's inside you is so invaluable even your boss realised it's the only way you, and your team survive this. It's the only way they spare you, you realise? There's no do or die. Even with....the historically noble aims of Artemis, your superior's reports aren't so silly as to let an opportunity like this slide. I suppose it's a little like Von Braun. Allegiances change when there's something worth than money, Skye...they'll overlook certain things when they realise what happened too."

Skye looked on, silent, stunned. In this little corner of the command centre, there was a long trail of bodies between them and Adam, who more likely than not, was moving to the hostages that Purna and Eloise were trying to rescue. And likely now just pawns to Zhao's work.

The General continued, clearing his throat.

"Ian was a brilliant man. I respected him. But he also went postal when I told him when you were twelve that he'd never escape. That there was no corner of the earth he could go, because you'd always return to do what you were made to do, whether he liked it or not. You were conditioned to become this, because as good as he was, there's only so much of a child you can raise when they are made to be what you are now. Perhaps he tried to shape that away, but....he wasn't that good. It got him killed. And they covered it all up, knowing you would always search, always look, but always be too busy to notice it's the same people feeding you. Even Oracle wouldn't have known to check...poor bastard, really." Zhao shrugged, Skye not interrupting him, letting him talk, and well, hoping Ebrima understood.

"So you are exactly where you need to be, Skye. Doing their work, unquestioningly, just in case Rose did go rogue, and when she did, here you are, to fix their problems. Leading their teams, undyingly. I followed her believing she had a point. This I didn't expect...so I suppose the deal changes. Pragmatism." Zhao stood up off the table, shaking his head, looking to Ebrima, the sound of the fighting on the launch pad still audible.

"The fuck do you mean? I don't have an implant, I've got nothing in me, I'm some fucking defect, and free to beat the fucking daylights out of you! I don't give a shit, arrest or not, my team will pick you apart like gingerbread, and I'll fucking do the same! After killing hundreds of your men, that's seriously how you see it?" Skye barked, as Zhao shook his head.

"And yet you did it without worry. Because you had to come to me in order to find out just what you are. They made you a slave and were so good at it, they didn't even make you realise they're pulling the strings. Gave you the freedom to be Skye Rosalind Lyons, knowing you would come back like an obedient dog looks for meaning, and the sun to rise. And make others follow the same way they do it to you. Isn't that right, Ebrima?" Zhao started, as Skye kept a rifle trained at his core, watching him, barely phased.

"Come on, follow me. If you would have shot me, you would have done it already. And I strongly recommend you don't. I think you believe me."

"Why's that, big man? Some sense of a victory lap, eh?" Skye yelled back, barking closing the distance. She didn't like being ordered. Not by something like this animal.

"You'll see." Zhao shrugged, and turned, again, like he'd been here before.

---

And walking through the facility's interior, a door into what looked like a generator room was opened, Zhao having a gun trained at him at all times, backed by Ebrima. It was a strange room, to say the least, and the last place of the facility where anything would go on.

Another body of Rose's, or maybe was it Skye's sat in the vat at the end, nestled next to what was an emergency generator.

"The best secret we ever kept, I suppose wasn't Rose. There isn't an implant in your neck because we successfully ported its function into your brain stem itself, subdermally. Made it part of your nervous system. And of course, never activated it....never needed to, not that anyone was alive that knew how to transfer a body. And not even Henry knew. That's why you weren't going to change. What chance did you have?" Zhao started, looking to his side, standing by the lifeless body of Rose, eyes closed looking back at Skye.

"But what if....we got to see what happens if we did?" The body to his side spasmed.

Soundtrack: Radiohead- Everything In Its Right Place

Skye suddenly convulsed. Dead man's switch from earlier. This had started the moment they walked into his office. Same system that Skye had to kill comms in her office when Rose attached, was the same one that tripped the switch in her head.

She felt her mind pulse, the other body inside the bag open its eyes, before snapping back into her current one, colour back in.
"No! Fuck you, no no no....what are you doing!?" Skye uttered, as Zhao shook his head.

"It's already started. If Ebrima shoots me, that process ends. So play along. Helps when the host knows what's coming that you give into it." Zhao added, as Skye looked to him, then Ebrima, the rifle dropping out of her hands, as she leaned on the Cameroonian, exhaling hard, feeling her organs shut down, her mind start failing.

"Ebrima....I'm....so sorry, you can't let......you can't....." Skye muttered, suddenly going limp and blacking out, and falling off Ebrima's shoulder entirely into the floor.

---

Like The End

Skye screamed in the liquid as her consciousness reappeared, her vision blurry as eyes snapped wide, watching as her own self dropped dead, watching through the fluid filled plastic, Ebrima almost certainly wanting to put a round through him, but the movement in the bag a few seconds later likely stopping him.

He wasn't watching death. He was watching the very thing they had been hunting all along, the very person they'd been coming after do what she did best, in his own team leader.

He was watching her respawn.

Skye convulsed, the neurons twitching and the bag's fragile grasp detecting a heartbeat, and with it, the bag split and let her drop the half a foot into the padded floor. Skye twitched involuntarily, her body free from sores, hurt, but like it had the most insane, pins and needles she'd ever experienced. It felt like she was struggling to breathe, struggling to even render, colour coming back and oxygen filling her lungs as she gasped, looking down, in absolute, ornate horror.

She looked on, completely nude, covered in the same fluid. Coughing, spluttering, Skye crawled, coughing out more of the liquid from her lungs, looking up from the floor at Ebrima and Zhao like she was techno-Gollum. Peeling the pad off her neck, she looked at her hands, and was lost.

There really weren't words she could use to describe the feeling, but as she sat up, clearing her eyes, none followed as Zhao looked to Ebrima, like he'd seen this before.

"Orders are orders, Ebrima. All you have to do is just cuff me. Do what you joined Raven to do, clear your name, go back to whatever you want. Perhaps, even exact the revenge into the world that they did to your sister without your hands tied here. You saw the proof for yourself." Zhao smiled at him, putting his hands in front, knowing full well that in this moment, maybe so was he.

And in a way, perhaps it was the ultimate test of his morality. Kill Zhao, there and then, and end the cycle, the last person left who could do this, perpetuate this? Then what, go against Oracle's orders, the only person between them and the wolves?

Or spare him? NATO wanted this technology badly, but even within, was there any guarantee there wouldn't be another Rose? Or even another Skye to be specific right now, crawling, who had something to say about this?

"Fuck Oracle, Ebrima, kill him! You fucking animal! Fuck all this, this can't ever be allowed to see the light of fucking day!" Skye yelped, her "first words" containing more Scottish slurred swears than perhaps a typical set would sound like. Just if anything clarified that Skye was actually in there, not Rose. She was convulsing, but the water from her eyes were replaced with tears, screaming out gutterally from her core, as Zhao yelled back.

"Rose went against orders too. Isn't it strange you get to the same conclusions, Skye? I wonder, maybe there's a part of her inside of you still just like your twin? Maybe that's what we revealed." Zhao chuckled, shrugging, looking to Ebrima, then back at Skye.

"Makes you not so different really now. Shame Rose doesn't know, because....if she had, I think she'd have lost her aspirations that Artemis gave her." Skye looked on in horror, not letting Zhao get that final word in.

"No, fuck that, there's a difference between omnicide and putting your arse in the ground! You're no better, just taking opportunities to save your hide!" A naked Skye, missing scars, bruises was not one that Ebrima likely had on his "To See" list today, but her yelling back in response was definitely in character, fumbling and crawling, still getting used to the muscles that were as if they were unused. Words were spluttered, almost garbled, but uneqestionably, this was the Skye that Ebrima had known.

"Your father outdid himself with you. That was why he was so proud, I think, realised there and then that Rose was always a tool, but you he....gave a chance to. I guess you are lucky enough I showed you this. Out of the kindness of my heart....because I have some respect for Ian's achievement. Enough to realise what happens next, and that without me, all of your friends are all good as dead. And greatness can't die. Not when you've already killed everyone in my army to get here. What does that really make any of you? Better?" Zhao chuckled, looking to Ebrima.

"The transfer server is localised. So if you're really going to put that bullet in me, Boaro, I recommend you put one in her. Maybe they'll spare you if you want none of this when it all comes out, you might still get to walk away when it's done. You're a professional, after all. Attachment, feelings, they get you killed in this business. So...stick to the plan, let's not be stupid, take me away, and you can go on your merry way, and sort out Rose, maybe Skye gets to live too." Zhao added.

This was a rather complex decision that added to the options. And in that moment, as much as Skye wanted to grab the rifle off her old body, she was barely able to crawl, let alone move while she adjusted to this, she knew Ebrima would either put a bullet in him, or a bullet in them both, or follow Oracle's order. And if the latter happened....Skye wasn't quite sure what that meant. No, she couldn't be like Rose....could she? This couldn't happen. And absolutely nothing made any sense, apart from the fact of the matter, which was she was looking at the exo-wearing soldier of Skye Rosalind Lyons, back from another body.

DELTΔ HYPER (Anti-Gravity Racing, Cyberpunk/Solarpunk RP)

---

Sunday 16th June, 2094
Silverstone, Northamptonshire, England
1300 GMT

The Battle of Britain

Soundtrack: Kasabian- Stevie

Cassie Neves

Sitting tightly, the drizzle came down, the characteristic British weather dour as usual. The sight of the silver and white ship a little ahead, adorned with a British flag across its tail, was of only one pilot in particular, flanked by the hazy green, yellow and blue swirly mess of the Southern Cross ship, and then, the white and green of Al-Saqr. All to be passed. And then her team mate. To be hopefully not clashed into.

The fans had packed out the stands. Not a single one was empty. All holding flags, banners, some mad bastard even got a flare going. This was one hell of a place, and most of all,

"Comms check, Cassie."

"Loud and clear."

"Rain is going to clear in about twenty minutes from now. Let's check imaging systems."

"All good. Feeling locked in, Harry."

The ship set out nicely on warm up, and setting into the grid again, Cassie cracked her real and her fake hand, exhaling hard.

---

Four. Three. Two. One.

And with it, the ships were off in a haze of spray and screaming electricity, and sitting behind Paul, was already in the defensive fighting with him, the Zygon ship feeling like it could actually go toe to toe with Valkyrie's now. While it may not have had the absolute stability, it did have the pace that had been completely lacking, and the ship's new chassis seemed to sing to her. Ahead, Han, Kais and Amy would be fighting- the former two no strangers to a bit of rivalry and themselves, parallels of each other.
"Good start Cassie, let's manage Mulder, keep him back." Her engineer uttered, and well, as easy as that was said and done, racing in the spray of Han who had nothing on Kais's start, even with her excellent piloting skills, this was going to be about just that.

Running alongside, she stared over at his canopy as he went past and then she returned the move at Copse, snaking the ship through Maggotts and Becketts, this being a duel, the spray and rain making this feel even more cinematic than ever. This was a fight, Valkyrie versus Zygon, old team versus new. And she wasn't giving an inch.
"0.5 behind, Cass..."
"Yeah yeah, shut up!" Cassie yelled back, the ship almost as if recoiling from her response.

And through the next corners, Cassie watched as Paul tried a move, at the MAG-enabled cuban-half at Stowe of all places. Trying to get her before she had the upper hand on the straights? Well, she kept a tight line, and gambled, keeping it tight through the half-loop the loop, half coil turn that spat back towards Vale, the magnet sucking the ship close to the floor upside-down.

*Go on then, try it.*

And well, even Cassie was in disbelief at what happened.

---

The Valkyrie ship turned and caught the lip of Cassie's field, Cassie diving hard into the inside and drifting the ship, but leaving nowhere to go. The ships clattered, but it sent the Valkyrie one off circuit and with no chance to react, it was an instant knock out of the bottom of the turn, the G forces at their hardest and effectively, where the ships were even with a neural link, the most difficult to control. Cassie kept it on, recovering systems fast but losing a place to Layla near instantly, but was back in slipstream.

The crash was a big one, the contact between the repulsor field of Cassie's Zygon ship and Paul's Valkyrie ship brought it to a halt upside down, before it headed towards a spectator bank, albeit sending the ship's depowered core and all of it into the gravel, and smack into a tyre barrier. Paul would see rocks above him, sitting upside down, and could peel himself out via a side hatch, although it wouldn't have looked terribly elegant. The ship absorbed the impact, and inside, Paul would be feeling the force too- the ship had violently deaccelerated and laterally too, so it would have given him a good shake. It likely wouldn't have caused any more injuries beyond bruising, but it certainly would feel sore, and the ship would have been screaming before the neural link disconnected.

Cassie looked in her camera back at it, shaking her head as she saw the yellow immediately come out.
"F**k, what an idiot! What is he thinking? Through there, really? Bloody rookie move!" Cassie yelled back, anxious, but to the point.
"Okay, Cassie, let's focus on what we can do. You feeling ok, ship readouts look positive, we have damage to the sidepod but looks like he got sent out by your repulsor system."
"Aye, because I turned them up to chat through there to defend on ELS, no chance he makes that!" Cassie reiterated, sighing as the red flag came out. The debris-stricken ship was immediately attended to by drones and the medical crew, who, once Paul had clambered out, checked him over and got him off-circuit. That would have felt rough, but then again, probably not as terrifying as Bea's crash at Cape Town, or Nora's on Luna.

The ship was a ruin- and another chassis sent to the rare earth recycling plant, denting Valkyrie's chances at the top five.

For the others though, it was an opportunity.

---

And on the grid again, that started up, the rainy track fading to sunshine that melted the rain from the tarmac below, leaving that strange ozone-like smell of hot tarmac against rainwater.

And the lights dropped once more. It was all go, and there was this feeling in the air that this was a fight. Now the gloves were off, and at Silverstone, that meant pushing every single corner as far as they could, every late lunge, every pulse, every leech, defend, overtake, it all faded into flow and became so complicated tracking it felt pointless, because it was just too fun.

"And what a restart we have, oh my word, Kais Zenix is making a move on Amy, it can't work, he's barely giving space on that inside line....oh it will! Kais Zenix passes Amy Stirling and forces her to concede, they are going toe to toe through Farm, Village, Aintree.... Amy is not having this, but Zenix is flying like he's on fire, the exits, he's giving her nothing to work on, it's like watching him in harmony with that ship!"

"Wow, what a restart, Zenix is absolutely laying it down, coming out of Brooklands he has the advantage, whatever is in him today after Monaco, he seems to be taking it out on Stirling!"

"Blimey, and behind him, Han is not far back, and in a massive tussle with Kelly, the two of them are trading positions through the circuit! And look at Ward, she is side by side with Neves, oh my goodness this is incredible! How are they keeping it together, Makara and Nadir are chasing, blimey they are trading paint almost, they are so close, this is wild! That's Makara past Ward at Copse, blimey no wait, she's back through, oh my how did she do that?"

And incredible it was. Because the fighting kept going, lap after lap. If there was ever a race that you were passing by in a bar, a shop, anywhere, you stopped because it was constant, total action. Stirling on her home turf being bested by Kais Zenix, while Cassie, Layla and Beatrix and Dorian looking like they were in a fight for 5th and the crowd of course, were going absolutely crazy at the sight. Layla's ship being hurt but the fastest, Dorian just finding a second lung in the dry, Layla just woven with the ship yet taking it far more conservatively, while Bea was of course, just sending aggressively into everything to a point where it was like watching a feral dog yapper into every challenge. In some corners, Dorian looked to grab seconds back and lose it on the straights, elegant, compared to the Carrera ship that looked frankly like it was on ice skates but somehow, denying opportunities to ships behind, being driven on the ragged, uncomfortable edge.

Cassie, already rattled, still had an operable ship and now had Bea in her sights. And well, she was racing like she wanted to prove a point today. The Zygon ship had been upgraded, literally built for this, it felt borderline alien today versus usual. How the fuck was Bea that fast? How the hell was she doing this? And well, the damaged ship did not have an answer, it felt like walking with a limp, the sensitive aerodynamics affecting everything and forcing her to compensate even in spite of what felt like a good ship. Fucking Paul. Really? She almost understood Kofi's anger now, but then again, he was a rookie like the others too. Even if he was in his mid-30s....supposedly.

And behind, Kofi had quietly snuck past Astrid and was about to overtake Max, even himself on this sort of day, making his ship absolutely push through the circuit using a good setup versus his peers. It was all quarters, the only inevitable thing was that Jamie was once again, terrible and had managed to hit Henry on his way down to 17th place.

It was heartstopping. Constant position changes, and it felt like in the air, a certain rivalry brewed between Cassie and Bea, Layla making advantage of her neural mods to caress what a wild horse of a ship between them as if to break them up. But that seemed to make things worse, Layla going for a move on Bea at the outside of Abbey being denied as if by sheer will and Layla just not making the commitment. For someone as committed as she was to transhumanism, living like she only had one body seemed to still hold the Jordanian back a little, because it felt like a knife could separate the ships at some points, in constant, unending flux. At any point, one ship dropped two positions, two corners forward, got them back. If there was a race that must have felt like it was exhausting to manage, not just physically but mentally, this was it. Inside the ship, Cassie felt her heart literally stop and start, pull as the G-forces snapped on fast corners like Copse and the loop at Stowe, to the tighter ones at Vale where it felt like it was about to pull her out of her seat and then planted her straight in on throttle, holding steady and able to even hear her own breathing, so in zone that her body felt like it was frankly in meld. Nothing else was there, no other thoughts, it was like karting, pure and absolutely everything, anything on the line to get points in this vital race.

But in the end, the cards fell where they did. Kais had pulled out a spectacular race, building a healthy gap to Amy that even a late ELS charge did nothing for. Pure pace, and a clear track made the Al-Saqr ship sing and allowed the bonded ship to feel like it was in total flow state, something even Amy couldn't quite match. That was followed by Hyeon-Ae Han, who had quietly raced a very neat, high level race, elegant and almost seamless, nipping at Amy but never quite there, patient and unassuming. As some would notice, this was of course a trait of hers- perhaps not a firestarter, but definitely finding smooth and fast to be in sequence with a ship like that. She was followed by Nora, who had scraped behind Han, and beind that, barely four seconds separated Bea, Layla, Dorian, Cassie and Harrison, coming down to Bea having to make a last lap series of incredible overtakes to keep Layla and Dorian at bay, to which the crowd, as you could imagine, went absolutely insane for. Behind that, Kofi rounded out the top 10, and scored yet another point for SuperCat, which was now showing as a rather beautiful swan song for Kofi's career.

Race Results for Silverstone

docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1qF6cn…

"Unbelievable stuff, of course we're seeing driver of the day come out for Beatrice Ward from the fan voting, but....honestly, hats off to Kais. That was stunning, absolutely driving the bolts off the Al-Saqr ship today. I think in my heart, he's really the driver we need to be talking about, on a good day, he seems the only person who has the fire to match Amy right now." Rory commented, as the ships came in,

"Yes, and what about Dorian? A poor qualifying from him, but he didn't stop- what a spectacular run from him too, I think that Valkyrie team will take some solace that even with a rare mistake from Paul, Dorian is keeping his momentum up. Even Han Hyeon-Ae, she's also been so consistent, and it's great to see her rewarded with a podium. What a result." Rosie replied,

"Is there more pressure on Jamie Hart? This can't carry on, surely?"

"Well, after this, I think unless he has a miracle at his home GP, I think the talk will change, surely Silver Apex will cut their losses if they want to take back the constructors title this year, and well, with the talent on the grid, your guess really is as good as mine..."

---

Cooldown Room: Silverstone

Cooldown was a weird place, as Amy looked on at Kais, sighing her head.
"You really are coming in like a Meteor, aren't you? That move....fair play." Even Amy had to admit, she was impressed. The Egyptian had balls, because Amy could have pushed the issue, maybe like she should have on Dorian, but knew that Kais wouldn't have cared. He truly didn't, in some ways, she almost respected it. Unlike the others, who tried excuses...he was just a bastard. And even she knew better than to argue. She tutted at the crash between Cassie and Paul, shaking her head.
"Rookie move that. Both of them...." Amy smirked, watching the fight between 5th and 9th rage, even for a moment, showing a little bit of enjoyment. As much as an absolute nemesis as she was, she was still human enough to enjoy people fight over position, and seemed glued to it. After Monaco, this wasn't so much a breath of fresh air as it was sucking in pure oxygen.

Before they got the call to go out, as Han went first, Amy turned, the cameras peeling from the room and heading outside to the podium as Han collected her third place to a litany of screaming Zygon fans. Amy put a hand against his shoulder, pushing with far more force than he might have expected holding him back from walking forwards.

"Wait. Our little thing is good....but word to the wise though.....if you are looking for answers to your past, and your questions, just ask who you're getting them for. Is it for Aswan, shaqīq? Finish what you started on the inside, what they stole from you? Or is it for her? Find what you can while they poke inside? Let's see, shall we....you'll need to be more than a fighter." Amy whispered with her finger against his collarbone and didn't even have to utter the words, showing she almost certainly knew about the neural mods Al-Saqr had gone through, and that link would have been beyond odd for him- audible to nobody at all. Beyond doubt now, she knew he was on it, Layla too, but Layla's realisation was correct. No point ratting them out and blowing this open. No, she'd been watching instead. And she had all she had to see. His past, even his present. And soon, what was to come. With an icy look, she smiled a teethy smirk and sent beams at him, before turning, the screaming crowd yelling Amy's name as she went out to grab her 2nd place trophy, and soon after, Kais was announced.

And the crowd still went absolutely wild, because of all the podiums you won in Formula AG, this may not have been the glitz of Monaco, maybe not the absolute scene that made Auckland feel boisterous, or even Tokyo's rain, this felt like being the biggest name in front of the biggest stage.

---

Delta Hyper: Post Race Interviews

The interviews post race were back in full force, as Aurora was back at the Delta Hyper post, highly advanced mics all set up to avoid the roar of the crowd as they came in.

"Paul, a disappointing result for you. Cassie seemed to think there was nothing she could do- was that a rookie error from you or did she defend too aggressively?"

---

"Nora, not an ideal race after a spectacular qualifying run had you pitched, but it looks like you're keeping up the pressure on Amy. With the gap closing from others, is it looking like you will take advantage of the chaos in front of you?"

---

"Han, congrats on your first podium! The Zygon ship looks like it's turned a corner, but the upgrades are catching an eye. Any comments on how the ship's new chassis is feeling?"

---

"Bea Ward, P5 and at home, you must be on top of the world, and definitely shocking fans with what have been outstanding performances so far? What a fight you gave in the midfield, you must be exhausted after that! And well, what about your last minute overtakes, tell us how it felt? Do you think the hype coming from other teams looking to sign you this season has any substance?"

---

"Kais Zenix, wow, truly a stunning win from you today! You and the ship look like you're in harmony, tell us more about how you led that race from the red flag? Yet the critics will ask- is this the Kais Zenix bringing the fire going to last, as Al-Saqr challenge Southern Cross and Silver Apex for the constructors?"

---

Cassie crossed her arms, knowing this question was coming.
"Really, really disappointed to be honest. I mean, let's not talk about the incident with Paul, I didn't put him there, but he made a move where anyone could tell it wasn't going to work out of a MAG-induced spiral. As for the fight with Dorian, Layla and Bea, yeah just really annoyed at myself. Went hard and fair but the ship once compromised wasn't giving everything I could give it, and I had to just hold on. We move onto the next one but it's one of those."

Amy adjusted her cap, wearing a shiny tech-hoodie over her undersuit, having a drippy techwear feel to it that almost made it look like it was made of thin material, yet smart enough to adapt to her- with a British design on her hat giving a nod to the team's locality.
"Well, he got me there. Can't deny racing with Kais is intense, but it's respectful. He pushes the limits, so I'll push back. So yes, tough to take and really gutting not to win at home, but happy to have put on an amazing show and I'm sure we'll be back in the tumble next race. So yeah, thank you Silverstone, it has been awesome, let's keep the flag flying high and keep going. Woo!" Amy smiled, wiping the sweat from her brow before moving on for Harrison to come to the podium.

Harrison shrugged, shaking his head.
"It just didn't happen today. So close, but the ship just didn't have that bond I was looking for today, and honestly, it's so fierce in the midfield that we were basically trading paint at one point through Vale, Abbey and Brooklands all the time. It is what it is but yeah, gutted not to close that gap to Amy today, but we'll go again."

Max sighed, nodding.
"I mean, rumours are rumours. It wasn't a great race, and I'm completely focussed on what we're doing at MMR right now. But yeah, I get it, it's tough but we gotta try and keep our heads down and Canada is our team's home race, so we'll really look to do more there for the local fans."

Henry also shrugged, deflated but it was the usual question. Again.
"Yeah, not much we did at the back, but then again, had a backseat to watching the crazy mid-pack race ahead. Seriously impressive, I mean...how we didn't get another red flag, god knows!"

Dorian adjusted his hold on the metal bar, wearing an Enigma Lux branded polo shirt, also made of a similar fabric to the smart hoodie that Amy had- a new fashion trend, with it being a bit more flowy than a traditional polo but having a yellow and grey sheen to it like it was made of almost a backlit material in the smart fibres.
"Yes, great race of course but shame about Paul. I am not sure, it looks difficult to tell but mistakes can happen when you overtake, and it is what it is. I did my best to make up after the red flag and yes, made the most of the ship. It's fun fighting with the others, it felt like the rookies have no fear, but some like Layla, they're so patient it almost forces you to adapt. It's really fun, but I am exhausted, I can barely breathe still!"

Layla tsked, unhappy with her performance, given she'd let Bea through right at the end.
"Honestly, shame to lost that position so late. But, Bea was brave and just pulled. Even my complex visualisation couldn't counter that, she's just brave, honestly not sure how that didn't end up in a crash, she might not be as in tune with her ship as I am with mine but she clearly trusts herself!"

---

As the last evening of festivities played out, the pilots had one last chance to come back to the main stage at Silverstone, with teams given a chance to do some extra-curricular marketing and enjoy this. If any team wanted to, this was a good chance to really make a dent with their marketing, or any activities of their own they had planned - in front of the biggest audience in Formula AG.

---

Kingdom

Jenny Lowry

The phone rang, the dejected garage of Fitzroy making its last appearance here in Britain, the marketing material barely alive here for the team's last little hurrah. Jen clicked the glass, and adjusted her earworm, hearing the voice inside her head, well, quite literally.

"Jen, you free?"

"Yeah, not bad, Andy. Not exactly the best, but you know, another race." Jenny mused sarcastically back as he dived into business, sitting on the stool, hearing the voice of Andy Wiltshire, Agent to her, and funnily enough of all people, Ben Hale and in another lifetime, Cassie Neves.

"Look, forget the result. I have some serious talks on the table for you. Like, you need to find a quiet room, immediately, if you're in the garage, get out. I've got a couple of big teams sniffing. Someone's panicking after that and I think shit is about to get real."

"Hah, no way. Shall we pen a meet.."

"Look, one of them told me we have till the end of the week to consider the offer. So, yeah, ideally if we can."

"Can you give me a hint at least?"

"They need an immediate replacement. And well, your performances have impressed. But I know that we need to talk this through first. There are other options on the table that represent something more long term, and one of them, through a contact of mine, wants to offer you something significant with better terms. Another one I ignored which was no better than what you have. I told you this might happen. So here we are."

"Didn't think I'd be the one getting that call. It's a chalice full of poison. Why not....you know who?"

"You can guess they're tapping him up too, but can you see him there, seriously? We haven't got long. There's a deal we need to sort, but the pilot market is about to go mental so you need to pick who it is, now. Yours truly sold your talent. But it's up to you."

Jenny breathed in a sigh, shaking her head.
"Fuck. You really did well, Andy. Getting your 10 percent....so give me twenty and I'll sort a place." Jen exhaled, thinking to herself even faster than even her neurally linked ship would let her.

"Of course. My best client gets my best work of my career."

Beatrice was going to be absolutely floored when she found out the news, either way. And the way she was thinking about it, part of her stomach gulped entirely. This was a bit different than Junior Formula AG. This all had a lot more weight now.

---

DELTΔ HYPER (Anti-Gravity Racing, Cyberpunk/Solarpunk RP)

Saturday 15th June, 2094
Silverstone, Northamptonshire, England
1400 GMT

Running in the Shadows

Sitting in the commentary booth, the Zygon ship was visible blasting by the camera, painted in its classic pearl blue and red snaked through Becketts, its iconic whine piercing down the Hangar Straight. Silverstone was still sold out, given the support and Historic series were on here. For the ticket, you got a hell of a lot of entertainment, and compared to yesterday, the clouds had come in. The glorious sunshine had gone, and was replaced by an overcast, bland sky that covered the circuit yet held back from rain. Such was the UK- glorious at one point, awful in the next.

"Yes, Rosie, we're watching an incredible lap from Cassie Neves. She seems to be struggling generally, but back at home, the fans are going crazy here. Her second home, perhaps....but she's got spades out of that ship again.

"Well, she's definitely chasing results, and Nora Kelly has set a new fastest lap in her last delta, where is this coming from? You'd think she's always had two artificial limbs...."

The commentary continued, yet inevitably, Amy put it on pole. While the other teams were pressing up against her, she was resilient even so. She didn't need a team-mate, she just needed a calm run and she put it where it had to be.

The grid seemed incredibly difficult to split- Southern Cross, Al-Saqr, Zygon in particular looked almost in parity. Silver Apex, or rather, Amy, was the cut of the field. At home, she was clearly lapping this up. But then again, Nora was right behind her with a point to prove. As if she was there to set fire to her, and with Kais behind her, he had Cassie to worry about in his rear view.

Layla's neural mods pushed her past Han, who was then followed by Paul's silky handling with a regular chassis returned to after Monaco, and Beatrix had managed to overperform the ship once again, making advantage of a poor lap from Harrison, and a decent lap from Dorian.

The one thing that could be said was that given how tight the ships were on circuit on the timesheets, and how good the overtaking opportunities were, nothing could be certain. Ships had strengths and weaknesses, but it all came down to tomorrow, and it all came down to what they would do. Compared to Auckland, it felt like the ships had taken on paths, design directions and had a character to them.

Al-Saqr's ship was as fast as Southern Cross's, but without that handling, felt more like a missile that required a cutting edge mind to even pilot, one that Layla was now relishing and in sync with, feeling like it was an extension of her body in.

The Southern Cross ship capitalised on historic successes, with added handling and energy systems making it feel incredible on a sown lap, but less consistent, like Harrison had found.

Valkyrie's ship, while handling sublime and leeching power incredibly efficiently lacked the speed that now Zygon had found, with a ship that seemed terrifyingly fast, and with little serious weak points outside a poor ELS that Cassie couldn't use to put the ship even higher in the grid.

Carrera's ship, while incredibly fast, good in energy systems and on corners still lacked any semblance of stability, and seemed to drift more than it did hold tight in the slower corners, perhaps benefiting Bea but punishing Ava's slow and steady approach more and more. Even others, like Nordic Call had capitalised on an all-arounder that underdelivered in speed, while MMR and SuperCat were starting to chase too, in their own right.

After Monaco, this was not one to be missed because there was plenty at stake. Qualifying was a suggestion for a race that was no doubt, going to be an epic. Rivals known, and perhaps, unknown to the public, on a circuit going toe to toe. Al-Saqr chasing a struggling Silver Apex, Zygon hunting both, and Carrera wanting to break away from MMR and Nordic Call. This felt like despite all the drama at the start of the year, a point where it was all coming down to the long-term decisions playing themselves out.

---

Peer to Peer

Inside the Delta Hyper trailer, rather than talk through qualifying, which was already hot enough a topic, each pilot sat down, individually coming in with the edit cutting between each of them, naturally anticipating probably some hot question on their performance, relations, opinions, maybe even the history. Aurora stayed quiet, an envelope coming across the desk in front of the sofa.

"So, we have a bit of a change of plan again. Because today on Delta Hyper, after we've gotten to know you, your thoughts on your team-mate, and now....maybe we put you in the hot seat. Would you like to open the envelope, please?" Aurora asked, and with it, the pilots read the text out on the old-school cool that was the paper.

*Ask a question to one of the other pilots.*

They no doubt, would be a bit confused, and Aurora clarified it.

"So, does that make sense? If you had to ask something, take a look to our audience and tell them, if you could, what's your question to the name on your list? And....we won't tell them, not yet." The camera cut between each pilot in specific reference.

"Kais, you have a question to ask Bea."

"Bea, what's your question for Paul?"

"Paul, what's your question for Kais?"

---

Astrid chuckled, shrugging her shoulders.
"I'd say that person knows I would struggle to pick. But probably AG racing, definitely. I love it so much."

Harrison, on the other hand.
"Snakes are worse than sharks. Definitely. Shit, I know who asked that one.... I mean sharks got a really bad rep, you know, lot of restoration work there at Muller Cay...."

Max folded his arms, shaking his head, chuckling.
"I mean, I know who that is. I still haven't decided, I was thinking of saving it for a podium...maybe I should put it to an online poll?"

Amy thought about who had asked it, and really drew a blank.
"I guess that if I had to choose....yeah I'd still pick the same car after that intro. Can't fault it. No way I'm picking anything else."

Jenny looked like she had a bit more to contemplate too, thinking through who this may have come from.
"Hmm, I would say the hardest bit is overcoming the fear when you start out. It's so fast, so violent, so crazy. And I mean, I had a rough season to start with. So that's the biggest challenge, trusting your neural mods, which means totally trusting yourself. And embracing who you are comes with it. So yeah, being yourself. Weirdly that is the hardest bit."

Dorian sighed, thinking things over. It was easy to answer, at first at least he thought that.
"I think....best race? Crap, well, the last one was pretty good....hah, but the last few Formula One races. Those were something else. Truly terrifying machines, it felt like they were so unsafe..."

Ava leaned back in the chair, scratching her face, in a certain thought.
"Damn, you got me there! Fighter jets are scary, but AG ships are just something else. Feels like taking an aircraft through a canyon run, even with the controls....yeah it is serious. As I found out. And I mean, risk comes in one way but....we forget it happens here too."

Layla followed suit, answering right in sequence.
"I would probably say the biggest thing I've learned about new limbs, new attachments, is that it's an experiment. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but, it always comes through in the end. And trying new things is like trying new food. Sometimes it isn't a fit, but sometimes, you can't live without it."

At the end, Kofi smirked.
"Well, of all the big cats, lions definitely are the coolest that I work with. And as for Astrid, I would ask her...."

Qualifying Results for Silverstone:

docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1qF6cn…