FourtyTwo

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

Round 16 of Formula AG
Sunday 22nd October, 2094
Race Day
Ballycastle Complex, Muller Cay, nr Australia
Great Barrier Reef AGP
1500 AEST

As the celebrations faded, the teams would wrap up, ships away, and getting ready to leave. Another successful weekend for some, another soul-searching session for others. Great Barrier Reef was always a showpiece, but up next, was the salt flats. From the salty ocean, to the salted earth.

---

Sunset at Sea

Dorian Hornfleur

Dorian sat looking at the state of the ship, beyond the glass of Valkyrie hospitality, emptied now on Sunday after the race.

"Another fucking engine. Putain de merde." Dorian simply commented to Anais, as she walked in, sitting on the beanbag next to him in Valkyrie's hospitality.

"It isn't the ending you thought it would be?"

"No. Feels like losing places." Dorian sighed, looking over at Paul's ship, wondering why his couldn't work.

"20 fucking years and it's always an engine failure...."

---

The Final Fifth

Sitting down in the sofa, Rory looked to Aurora, the familiar two staying professional in this late-season review.

"So, tell us, what did you think? Amy Stirling, dropping points?"

"I think we all were surprised. She's been so imperious in previous seasons. So unstoppable. But it's like she lost something. I can't even tell. It was like when Hamilton came away in 2022, or 2023. Just this spark seemed to fade. She could find seconds, but then she would lose all of them. It was hard to say."

"And what about the title race? Is it all to play for?" He was giving a wry smile with a chuckle, as the approaching mid-age commentator didn't want to be baited.

"If it's mathematically possible, anything can happen. Nora came back from the brink. People react differently to adversity. Pilots are incredibly resilient. The most mentally tough, physically capable, superhuman people alive. Take their augments, implants, everything away, and you're still left with someone who'll give everything for that feeling."

Cutting to Nora, as she walked through her garage, looking at data, looking at where she'd lost out to Bea. Wanting to never make that mistake.

"And what about the constructors battle for third and fifth? It seems like things are turning fast, who can say for sure where that will be?"

"Well, we all know Al-Saqr and Carerra prefer fast tracks. Their pilots are making the most out of ships that while fragile, are incredibly potent. It will be a showdown."

Ava helped the crew pack up alongside a biped that was helping carrying crates, looking to Leon, smiling, before looking across the box, looking to Bea, unsure if they'd ever fully mend the bridge. But when times were good, times were good.

"And while the constructors may be set, everyone has a point to prove."

---

Outro to Australia

"Well, that's all we have time for. We've had an amazing weekend here at Muller Cay, in the Great Barrier Reef, and we'll see you in Utah, for the FAS round of the Formula AGP season!"

And with it, the ending montage played out.

From the outside, as fish flew by, ships went through the tunnels, the sound a hollow, quiet turn, as the underwater camera drone followed one through a corner, before surfacing, catching ships exiting at the start straight, before pivoting back up to sky, sun, and a white-fade.

---

The teams would all head home. There were dilemmas to fix. Decisions.

From the first snow in Lulea, to the beginnings of the Southern Hemisphere summer in Buenos Aires, the chilly autumn vibes in Aachen, across to the usual sunshine of Abu Dhabi, all teams were getting ready for the last four races.

Engineers were busy.

Designers hard at work.

Liveries being reprinted.

The circus getting ready.

---

Post Humans

Being plugged in again.

Feeling it.

Seeing all of it.

Touching into the void.

She exhaled, looking through the clouded sandstorm, as it lifted, the rocks revealing an infinite red and yellow.

"The mortal coil holds us back. It has been a while." She said, the haircover revealing her almost polycolour locks, Layla looking beyond at the enormous horizon.

Wadi Rum. The desert of home. A place she wished she could race again. But not like this.

"Why are you here?" Layla asked, as the other figure sat, looking on at the sands.

"Because it takes everything. The perfect lap means sacrificing everything. And I thought you looked bored while they poked at you." Amy sarked back, brushing her white hair out of the way, inviting Layla to sit.

"It wasn't for the sake of humanity? For any of it?" Layla asked, as Amy shook her head. A resounding no.

"It's when you feel you are one with everything. It takes you away. It's the most human you can be. To find out what your limits are. And.....it's terrifying." She said, looking at sand, trickling with a feint sheen to it in the render. "And yet, infinite. You feel like you can touch the stars. You're scared but....able to go beyond anything."

"And you failed to think of anything larger. And lost points in races anyway for someone who's literally thinking you're playing transhumanism. You risk everything and deny it all. Why?"

"You are here, aren't you?" Amy asked, as Layla shook her head, looking at the sands, then back. Realising.

"You mean, you're here. I'm not in your head. This is my render. And you’re not a glitch." Layla replied, as Amy chuckled, shaking her head.

"How do you think this all happened?" Amy retorted, waving her hand at it all as Layla could see it all. "The entire pathing to here."

For Layla, it was unfurling. Unravelling, as she replied back. Seeing it clearly.

"You used them. Knowing it would end up coming to me. A social engineering trick.....because you needed them to do it, knowing everything about them. Knowing how they'd act. Knowing Ava's weakness. Knowing Bea would find you. Knowing Kais wouldn't help himself. Knowing you'd get to me. But you didn't expect the bump in Canada to force it to work faster." She replied, as Amy nodded.

"I didn't expect it to start killing me either."

"It's……neural remapping. Like when...."

"A neural link is damaged and strained, it creates new bonds to anything, like how a bird nests with anything it can capture. With no limits..."

"It replaces the mind with machine and extrapolates, turns generative. Until the mind starts to defeat itself because it can’t manage artificial." Layla replied, finishing her sentence. "We're not a hive mind. I know it because I sat on it for a while. It’s why I’m here. But you have a body to return to."

"Not quite. Well. You want one thing. I want another, but once you start interfacing, you know a machine usually gets to the same answers in a quantum computer, two places at once, yet the same. The machine is creeping inside you too now, isn't it, Layla? To be transhuman, you need to let it in." Amy stated what Layla knew to be plainly obvious, as the Jordanian replied.

"Sure. Yet I want to help humanity. I want to go to the stars, turn off, turn on, and save our species from the cradle we can escape. You want to win more races in a stupid series in which actual people don't deserve cheaters like you….like us. Like Jen. She shouldn't play with it….or are they wondering how they replace you?" Layla cut hard, knowing in this sense, sometimes it wasn’t the literal, maybe the physical too.

“Perhaps.” Amy remarked, knowing it was a valid point. But Amy had her own. “You say you want to be like sand down there. Yet you're trapped on this rock…..and here. You’re imaginative, but you’re stuck." Amy came back, as Layla looked on, even wondering what the fuck they meant.

"They've....respected my wishes. More than they can say for you. How many copies of you are there? Is that it, or are you just here trying to get me to find you a way home? Which are you, Amy? Or is it even Amy anymore?"

Amy had a rare crack, as she shook her head. "Enough to know that we’re both matter. We’re so much more the same." Amy took her hand, and well, Layla felt the cold.

And her wash away.

And as she looked out into the horizon, Layla started to understand more and more of how reality wasn't exactly a construct that mattered too much anymore.

Not like this.

---

"Kais."

The voice called.

"Kais." The voice called again. When Kais would wake up, he would see it in his vision.

Layla was there. And the feel against his shoulder would have felt real. But Layla was nothing but a hallucination. Dressed in an racing undersuit, augments all on display, like the last time Layla and Kais saw each other.

She was back.

From a holographic projector on one of Kais's devices, at least, trying to play at some physical presence.

"Not quite alive. But getting there. You look like you aren't sleeping as much lately." She replied, her voice garbling a little, before restoring.

---

The interviews took place at each HQ, a hologram of Aurora opposite the locally set up camera, set in an environment of the pilots choosing. They had creative control, but Aurora still led on questions.

First up, Bea, back in Buenos Aires.

"So a breakout first season for you, and it seems like you've become the number one pilot at Carrera. What does it feel like to have that responsibility, to lead and direct the team? You seem to back yourself to stay with the team when many other teams would have been interested, what do you think it is about Carrera that has made it so effective since you came in?"

Next, Bellatrix, in Lulea.

"An impressive start from you Trix! Many people would have not expected you to come into Formula AG, especially with the competitive field you were in, so what do you think it was that made it work so well for you?

Aachen, next, with Paul.

"Paul, it feels like you've hit your stride! With such consistency, how does it feel to be putting a team like Valkyrie so high up the grid? How do you feel about the future of the team, and in particular, the next steps with the 2095 chassis?"

Lastly, Kais, at Al-Saqr's HQ.

"Kais, it seems like watching you on track is always entertaining, and your honest, direct approach is gaining lots of fans, as a breath of fresh air in the sport. Hamid seems to take a different approach, and seems rather playful with crews and teams from what we can tell. Do you think there's a way for both styles in Formula AG?"

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Day 2: 06:19:51
Polavian Standard Vodka Distillery,
Novy Jork,
Capital Province,
Republic of Polavia

But with a grin he look at the holy glad ang, "well long time since I've seen one of those. Let's go." He tests the door now as Felix stacks beside him, "Clear..." and edges the door open enough that Felix and get the flashbang inside, "Let's make some noise yeah?"
[/quote]

Prepped up, Felix nodded, giving a silent, but simple response. "It's a crowd pleaser. Set. Upper team, moving in." Pin peeled, the knurled purple left his hand and bounced off the metal cabin wall, before settling, Felix making sure to shut the door and point his head away. Once, he'd been flipped with someone inside by catching the light. And well, that wouldn't be much for for either of them. The light flashed bright white and pink, like something from a certain film series when the ark was opened up in front of the bodies.

The men inside screamed, as all of them stumbled, one falling over, utterly confused where he was. Blind and literally flipped in position in the sorting cabin.

A Holy Flashbang had the effect of inverting positions, a classic Kalan trick that their Riot Priests would use.

So, the goons inside would be flipped, and it made Felix and Silas entering, with shotguns, basically able to shoot them like fish in a barrel.

Except two versions of Felix entered. One going right, another left. It was a mindfuck, inside a mindfuck. If he was a lion right now, this would be why Felix was disgustingly capable in getting through doors.

One, two, three, four.

By the time they were done, Felix having taken the two on the left with the Masterkey, the room was a much grimmer shade of red as the bottles now went by covered in blood, the Libolian flicking new buckshot into the shotgun, stepping over bodies, trying to PID them. "More PSA. Uniforms track with what they had ten years ago." Felix added, as more gunfire could be heard, not at them, but from below.

---

“Give it a minute, then tell me if shooting me in the chest works or not.”

"I'm a seer. Not someone who tells you the obvious, because right now, you're two, maybe three vodka bottles away from unable to organise a piss up here if you want to stay as a pointman." Roxie poked back, looking back to the other witch for ideas, rather than problems.

She listened to Rowan, seeing the witch try to seer herself. It wasn't as effective. It wasn't going to work. But, she was creative. That she had to say.

She grinned as she had a thought. “Well who said we had to use the door? What if we went through the wall instead of the door? I still have some acid left. They might notice that before we got through. I could freeze the wall and then channel a lightning bolt into the wall causing it to shatter inward.” She turned to Borys with a smile. “There might be some collateral damage though. You wouldn’t hold that against me, right?” She made a blow up motion with her hands to indicate shattered bottles.

Oksana's eyes rolled up into her head again, as she held onto the railing, before phasing back in.

"Okay, this is what I saw...."

--

The vision was clear. The frozen metal suddenly shattered as Borys charged through after the lightning bolt, shotgun man drawing fire onto him, as Roxie aimed for top of thorax, 9mm shredding the unarmoured neck of the Altyn-wearing nerd, the breach so unexpected that the PSA militants inside were drawn out, any fire on Borys, and luckily, that meaning Rowan and Oksana had clean ability to shred the others, with clean, tactical fire. Within seconds, bullet casings were on floor, as she shrugged.

"Huh. Just like I thought it would."

This wasn't a vision.

Reality played out rather nicely, the version of it Roxie could imagine at least, this particular breach, this particular version, perfect to inch.

As the chaos stopped, Oksana picked up the Saiga-12K, and threw it towards a pissed Borys, it bouncing off him given the knock, as she put hand to face. "I'm so fucking stupid." She said to herself, realising in every version of reality, Borys wasn't gonna see that coming. But she wasn't exactly seeing in that moment, she was too busy seeing something else.

They'd made noise and the fire alarm went off, and well, the machinery was at a halt.

---

"We've stirred the hornet's nest. Let's capitalise on shock and awe, we need to punch out of the distillery and find transport. Weapons hot." Felix called into comms, the breached room left behind, wanting to make progress. Sooner they got through, the better.

With it, Silas and Felix kept the high road, staying on the gantries as bullets flew, bottles smashing as Felix slid into cover, switched to the 417, icing a few more PSA militants that came in, regular fire working, as he bolted from point to point, still not feeling like he could switch. Nor wanted to. For now, at this range, a rifle was perfect. A lion was not fitting through those doors, after all.

Downstairs, Oksana's team had cleared out, and were now in the production area- the bottling plant's various conveyor belts, and more PSA militants were filling in area.

"Contacts front!" She called, as bullets smashed bottles, Oksana diving into cover and grabbing one, throwing it and using it as a nice distraction to get an enemy in cover covered in shards of glass, before aiming at their exposed leg, enough of an opening for her to relocate and reload, before waiting and picking them through the sheet metal. Clambering over the production line, Oksana found cover behind another machine panel, as the machines suddenly whirred back into life, the conveyor belts continuing.

"Ah, fuck! We need to shut it down, we can't cross safely.....ah fuck it." Roxie sighed, taking out another militant that moved in, wondering just what on earth they were doing here. She knew nothing on drugs, but why put psychoactive substances in these? There was no way they had anything ready based on the trains and looks of things, so it must have been a discussion. An armoured recon that was met by the force of a load of armed wizards and witches.

"Me and Silas are approaching a control room, we might be able to shut it down! We've got eyes on hostiles massing, they're bringing shields!" Felix called out, from on high, the gantries now being busy with hostiles, as they fought through the halogen illuminated factory, still headed towards the main element itself- the distillery, on the far side of the cabins and conveyors they were at.

Oksana saw that coming, and dodged as one of them sprayed at her with an SMG behind a tactical police shield, Oksana bareling into cover and firing at the legs, dropping the enemy into a killshot, before backing down, her vision getting absolutely shitty.

---

"Rowan, see if you can use your acid on the shield goons, blyat! Borys, if now was a time to get shitfaced, it would help!"

Oksana was disgusted by saying those words. But, for the latter, it as perfection.

---

Felix meanwhile, stuck close with Silas, the shapeshifter dumping mags and switching to one of his last three, aware he had to be careful, aware he couldn't be burning through this much. He switched to the Masterkey on turning a corner past a machine, blasting an enemy to the abdomen then head as he fell forwards, pushing him out of the way to get back into cover, as more gunfire rang out, Felix and Silas having to go through a conventional gunfight, but, Felix happy if Silas could pull something off here on the higher gantries.

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

Tuesday
19:32
VICE Nightclub, Claremont

The Doors

Lightning Girl was dutifully keeping the peace. Scanning QR codes. Pushing away chancers. Only having to draw electricity once to jab someone back. But everyone played ball.

She was charming, good as ever. Friendly. Chatty, but formal. Professional. The mark of an SDN hero doing their job.

Scan ticket. Check, search, take items for the cloakroom, open barrier, in. Next.

Scan ticket. Check, search, items, open, next, scan, check, search, open, scan, no ticket, no tickets left, sorry, not tonight, think this through, next, scan ticket, search......

How Madcap was getting on she wasn't sure, but the crowd was getting inside, and they would be done soon. Free to go. There were a few more left, a few keen getting out of the rain and inside the nightclub and the small security station that Lightning Girl manned, making sure no trouble was going to happen.

And then there he was.

And all the music inside, the pounding electronica, seemed to almost pulse to a crawl.

Soundtrack: Lord Huron- The Night We Met

It was like a moment that time slowed for her.

"Hey." She simply said, the rest of the spiel dissolving in her head. That was not the way to open that conversation.

It was Quickdraw.

It wasn't even formal. What the fuck, Sophie? You're meant to say "Tickets, please." Not Hey. What the fuck?

Hollywood was so far. Why was he here?

"Uhhh.......here? Y'all scanning?" He brought out his QR code from his phone but she was locked on him.

Holy shit.

She hadn't imagined it, it was actually him.

Quickdraw.

The Texan Sureshot.

The fastest hands in the Lone Star State.

The guy who shot 12 criminals in 3 seconds with two revolvers at a bank heist. In their hands, disarming them. Rounding them up like cattle, on his own.

So maybe he had the fastest hands in the world when it came to marksmanship.

It was why he was in SDN Hollywood.

Brown Stetson, checked shirt, leather vest, a tiny whisper of a beard, but the charm of any cowboy you could dream of. The sort of thing a horsegirl would get weak at the knees imagining, in his late 20s, near her own age. The kind of man any woman like Sophie would have had posters of as a kid. Even the Westerns. His calloused, rough hands, his almost boyish charm despite the experience he had in firearms and being the kind of hero that Hollywood fell over itself for, despite the good ol' days of Westerns being long gone.

She moved the ticketing machine up and it gave a positive beep with the trigger, scanning his QR code on his phone to fill void, as she tried to find words, putting it down.

And not finding any.

"Uhhhh, are you meant to search me? Just a heads up, I'm carrying." He said, this type of thing entirely, if not completely odd. He of course, found the white haired, yellow vest wearing hero cute, but not in the way she did. At least, at first.

Sophie was still lost for words. Shocked he would come here. And she had a job to do, as she started her search, cursory, but not really doing much. Aware of it.

Say something, Soph. He's hot as hell but you can't be awkward like this.

"Right. Of course. You can't.....take those in. As you know." She said, feeling both revolvers, and awkwardly the enormous Bowie knife at his hip, pointing to the secure box, letting him draw, knowing that she could taze the living fuck from him if he did go psycho. Which he wouldn't. Because he was the kind of hero that people like Madcap really looked up to. Shit, Madcap hadn't even clocked him. Best it was that way. This would get so much more awkward.

Where was he?

"Ah yeah. Sorry. I forget." He replied with his usual drawl, as he peeled them all out and put them into the box, the engraved, custom made Smith and Wesson revolvers, chambered in .357, iconic. Carbon black barrels, smoked cherry wood grips, with so much weathering behind them. And the Bowie knife that was the length of her forearm. Holy shit.

Iconic because Quickdraw was one of the main members of SDN Hollywood's team, and if anyone in the world knew heroes in the City of Angels, outside of DTLA, these were the ones SDN paraded the most on social media. Perhaps not as practical as the real crime-fighters of DTLA, nor the straight up veterans of Compton, but showstoppers.

And Quickdraw was stopping her show.

"Thanks. Gonna need to search for any other stuff. Protocol." She patted him down, finding no more knives, or other stuff she could consider damaging. Boots that weren't for dancing yet for ranching, but as she finished the check, he had put his Stetson in the box and was pale blonde, as she was at his eye level, and trying not to come to terms with the fact that she almost had fallen for his charm then and then. Why was he here? This was a big electronica night, surely he would hate this, and he would love country and western? Was it friends, other people, business, something else? Who could tell. It was weird, that was for sure, because he wasn't casual, he was 90% Quickdraw, at a loud night out. She was looking at him just thinking that.

And he noticed her too, the gears clicking who he was looking at. This wasn't just some hero with a cape, anyone could do that, her hands had a gentle buzz about them even behind the rubber gloves she wore, her skin was pins and needles on edge at her neck, her aura was of ozone, a smell felt before seen. And realised the collar. The bee. The bus he saw on the way here with her spewing power from hands. And the stories. Good, bad. The one that moved from Britain. She was cute. At work, but cute. He'd be polite. Hospitable. Nice in response. Try and follow chat.

"Thanks. I get separation anxiety, I apologise, my guns and I....are like one team. Say are you....Lightning Girl? What are you doing here at a place like this?" He recognised her.

Her heart nearly fluttered.

"You recognise me? Oh my God, thank you! I didn't want to make a big deal of it because you're on a night out..." Sophie started, keeping her voice down as best as she could push it....

Don't fucking say "I'm a huge fan", Sophie, don't fucking say it, don't, you'll look like a creep, it will be weird, you have to not let him think you're finding him cute, and that would be really....

"But you're definitely as cool in person as you are on the TV! I guess I'm just helping out subscribers, doing the good work for SDN....so enjoy tonight, and uhh....." Sophie said, as he looked to the box of his belongings, about to go through to the cloakroom for safekeeping from the Head of Security's position from the table to her side, looking back as he didn't move.

He clearly had an eye on her. A hero like her on security work, that was odd, but Lightning Girl? Before the others had arrived, she was one of the premier heroes of the SDN Claremont team, in person, in spite a vest and headset, quite striking. He had a million and one fangirls. And fanboys, for that matter, but he could tell something was spinning in Sophie's heart. Gently. Maybe it was in her mind. He wasn't thinking that way, because he had friends to catch up with in music he didn't like. Lightning Girl didn't know what to think, or how to finish quite what she was saying.

Oh god. Don't do this. Don't fucking do this, Soph. He's gonna think you're weird and he just wants to get through tonight.

But you're Lightning Girl.

She's so much braver than you.

She can do anything.

Including talking to him, you socially awkward freak.

Say you want to talk. Worst he can say is no.

Worst he can do is shoot your head off twelve times in half a second with the revolvers four feet from him.

But you'd shock him first because you're the Silver Queen of Manchester.

Do it.

"Could I drop you a line on Slack? I...kinda would love to see what Hollywood's like....I guess I've never been recognised before. Sorry, you must get this all the time. I'll make sure your guns are looked after. If you get separation anxiety that is!" She tried to clarify, being confident, her voice going from confident, assured, to almost melting. Holy shit, he was so fucking hot without that hat on. Dammit, he was better than the giant billboard. Or the voice. Fuck he could melt her, right now, but she played it off as much as she could. Was there a double entendre in there? She couldn't tell. She couldn't say.

Quickdraw chuckled, nodding, not noticing that Lightning Girl was having an existential crisis, given how loud the music was.
"Sure, when you're done here handling the crowd. Have a good evening, Lightning Girl. My boys are already in VIP. This ain't my kinda show, but, they insisted I come....y'all have a good one. You and your bug faced friend. Let's talk later." He smiled, chuckling as he walked on by, Sophie cranking her neck to look at him and call out politely, though not to draw attention to the others in the queue.

"Have a good evening too!" She called, not wanting to make too much hassle, as she turned to the next clubgoer.

And bleep. Check. In.

Next one. Alien. Kinda looked like that Lana, from Torrance's Mailroom. Some clicks. But positive when checked. And through she went.

And next.

And next.

Quickdraw occupied her mind.

It wasn't like this. He was some big hero. That wasn't how romance worked. It wasn't, this was shitty, stupid, he was here just for a night he didn't want to remember, but he was so fucking....hot. And real. And charming. And once so far from people like her, but he actually looked at her. She thought he did. He would message her. He was charmed by her? Was she charming? Was he charming her? She had no idea. From his perspective, was this candid, was he into her, or was this overthinking?

But she let it go. The pulses nearly bursting her mind as monotony was broken up by another rejection, second to last in queue. Ouch. They didn't kick off when she stared into the punter's soul to make it clear, any wrong move, and Lightning Girl would send him flying across the street into a bin like she did that fucking touchy-feely asshole back home.

Shift was done as the last people went in, and the doors closed, and the night really took off. Not for Madcap and Lightning Girl.

They were done here, and they would head RTB, as Lightning Girl took off her vest once back in security's office, and her headset, looking to Madcap.

"Should we head home? Come on. I can give you a lift." She smiled to her co-deployed hero, drawing a ton of power out of a plug socket, glove back on as she offered him a hand.

---

Tuesday
19:58
SDN Claremont

Cat Out of Bag

The successes were big.

Really big. Shit, James expected there to be a lot more hassle in both cases for the groups.

Civilians saved, fire managed, cats even brought out. What a result. They'd shown incredible bravery, even by hero standards, to save lives and spare any more damage to the area. Both of which were critical, and even if he didn't feel the flames, he had to guess how hard it would have been. The sort of things heroes did.

Then the high speed chase. One involuntary amputation, but James already had partly filled in the KIA form, expecting the call to be of dead suspects and a lot more carnage. The team had been ingenious in stopping the Chevy and no more casualties, crooks, cops, or civilians, had happened, with very little damage left for the cleanup crews. It was literally textbook.

The balloon was back down too. What a win that was. And one happy subscriber, even if Eclipse may have questioned it.

Even the nightclub, one successful dispatch, in spite of antics occurring. A good image from SDN there, and James wondered how Lightning Girl had controlled Madcap. She'd probably let him know later, he guessed.

James put his headset down, and breathed out a long sigh of relief, the message coming through on his phone. Kat.

---

Kat (Claremont Director) [Batt: 99%]

"Big saves today. Claremont is being recognised, great turnaround. Regional director wants to talk."

James gave a gentle whistle, giving the message thought.

Shit. What did that mean?

He'd never been in a position like this. Two days in felt too soon, but was it really that impressive? Then again, half of the east side was being held together by Claremont's mighty nine, (though that went up to 12 depending on who you asked). And while rates were decent, this was something spectacular. The rest of the shift, and the team had gelled faster than he would expect. This wasn't some redemption story, where a plucky bunch of losers came together. This felt more like heroes, even the Phoenix Programme lot coming together and hitting the ground running.

They had a dispatcher to thank for that, but James didn't think himself much. He had good resources, plenty of it, and his KPIs were basically, don't let Claremont burn down. It wasn't Compton, so stopping the major stuff and keeping the minor ticking, was credit to his team. Hat Trick had done incredibly well, and he was lucky to have what Riley left behind. Outside maybe a few situations needing some brains, even then, he had a few aces up his sleeve.

So it all worked well. His mantra worked. Do the work and it pays, literally, and figuratively. He put himself exactly where he needed to be when they needed him, and now, here he was, getting that recognition. He wasn't a hero, but man, he got this game. With push close on the computer, all heroes back to base, he called it there and then and gathered the Kefir bottle and threw it into a bin, trawling across the emptying office. He was never an optimist, shit could always go wrong, always, but for now, it was fine. And that was enough.

James headed over towards the break room, where he found an assortment of the team, all returning in, all in various states of being wet from being outside in the pouring rain. He had many regards to give.

"Kat passes her regards on. All of you did very well today. Really, really well done, you deserve the applause and credit you got from public, and socials are going off nicely like Hat Trick mentioned on Slack. And shoutout to Blackstar and Feno on your first days, welcome to the Claremont team and hitting the ground running. Really, really good work from all of you. We're making a name for ourselves and while it's early days, I think we can make ourselves one of the best shifts in LA County if we keep smashing KPIs like this. That's all you." James started, smiling, trying not to be patronising, but seeming genuinely upbeat. More than his usual self. Why? Well...

"We all ready to celebrate with a beer or two tonight? This credit card isn't gonna spend itself. You have more than earned that." James asked as he waved it with a grin, attendance virtually mandatory, well, not unless they really felt like. After the high of that dispatch, a beer felt like a nice way to celebrate. Lightning Girl smiled, all the mugs put away and the dishwasher switched on, feeling a natural reply.

"Well, obviously! I'll take you there, on account of you being you know, flightless. Can I catch you a second?" She replied on behalf of the team, standing a little in front of them, chuckle on face, as James nodded.

"Alright then. Everyone, get yourselves timed out. We'll meet at The Cowl in 15, it's round the block." James finalised, as Lightning Girl headed the other way from the others, likely punching out, maybe awaiting James, but likely noticing he was staying behind, tidying up the remains of what was left in the kitchen, glad she could chat privately.

She had something to stay, occupying that doorway.

"I almost forgot to mention.....we might have a new guest." She smiled, winking at Asteroid as he walked away and giving him the finger guns, as the cat emerged from behind the door, the teeny, tiny kitten making a squeak, as Sophie nearly cried with joy, the mackerel tabby safe in her soft hands as she picked it up from where she stood, the kitten crawling between her feet. She presented the kitten to James, who got another squeak from the touch of his hands. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull in shock.

"What the......Lightning, you know I can't...."

"Well, I am sure he would love a friend that sits miserable behind a desk all day." She reassured, giving him a teeny rub, the squeak indicating he was not enjoying the bright light. A gorgeous, confused ball of grey and black brought home by Asteroid was now home.

"Shit, we can't look after a cat. It's.....so small! Like how, I need to focus on you and the team, not....."

"Relax. We have already got this. We've got a little box for him made from a bin that we made between dispatches. We thought you needed a furry companion. And look at him!"

"Have you named them?" James wasn't sure of his gender even if Sophie was, the kitten squeaking more.

"Aww.....he is scared. No, not yet. I was thinking 50 Shades of Grey but you can't call this little munchkin that." She giggled, as it all but confirmed it was a boy cat then, as Sophie tried to get out of its way in the light from James's embrace, the tiny ball of fur likely terrified in this new environment.

"Well, we'll need to drink and give him a name......as long as he has food and something to drink tonight in a box, but he has to go to a shelter. We can't do this. It's....." James said, as Lightning Girl sighed, gently sliding the kitten back into her hands, the teeny thing squeaking again as she held them against her chest, keeping him warm.

"Come on, James. Settle down a little." She replied, walking across the office, finding the tiny little bin that had been turned into a makeshift kitten home by James's desk, with a little lid that had in big marker pen, "DO NOT TOUCH, KTITEN INSIDE" written all over it. Sophie was not a cat expert either. But it was best this kitty didn't run around and after such a big night, had a little saucer of water and some tiny bits of someone else's tuna sandwich she had quietly stolen to eat tonight, before they sorted this all out in the morning. The kitten meeped as she gently slid the door of the tipped over wastepaper bin open, and cooed, looking back up at James past her hair.

"Aww....how can you not? Like, I promise. It will be fine. If it isn't, then yeah, fire me for it. I'd die for that kitten." She replied, standing up, taller than him, as he chuckled.

"Yeah, okay, when you put it like that." James chirped back, looking back inside as the kitten meowed again. "Maybe we call him Felix?" Sophie laughed, as James filled in her silence, as if she was enjoying this. Enjoying keeping her mind off what happened earlier, James adding in words.

"Never seen this side of you. One kitten and you're melting like a...." James got there in the end as she tazed him with an instant reply, making him leap across the room, both of them laughing, heading downstairs, where almost everyone had cleared out, and to shy of reception where the timecard machine sat. He was gonna die of a heart attack sometime thanks to her, but, James could take a punt she'd also be throwing so much more electricity his heart would start again. That was a joke. Right?

With a bleep of her credentials away, Sophie led the way, the rain seemingly picking up even more beyond the reception hall.

"I hate flying in the rain." She uttered, looking out at the blattering of it on the window, brushing her hair back, and without asking, picking him up, walking through the automatic doors. "Come on then....." Sophie added, and with more sparks than usual, lept into the sky and made a course for The Cowl Inn.

---

Tuesday
20:16
The Cowl Inn Taproom,
Downtown Claremont

It Comes In Pints

Upon the soft arrival in the alley next door to the fancier part of town, Sophie and James were walking out from where the trash was into the main street, amongst the hubub of the main student area of Claremont. James in his technical raincoat was still soaked, as was Lightning Girl, hair absolutely sodden from the deluge that had rained on down, her cape completely drenched through. But the bar was a warm reprieve, and the heater was on by the door. On a Tuesday, especially rainy like this, it was much quieter, significantly less so than usual, and The Cowl Inn had a tiny strip of neon, with an old-timey metal sign posted above the door. Through which, revealed quite a different establishment than a usual hero or villain dive bar.

The bar was a beautiful place, if you liked your weird, indie, alternative place.

Soundtrack: Friday Pilots Club - Trading Punches

A taproom with massive steel tanks, hiding the actual operations of the Lost Lamplight Brewery, a microbrewery that specialised in brewing up stuff that most civies couldn't drink- truly diabolically strong beers, most of which strangely, weren't that accessible on tap here (bar a couple) due to licencing laws. But the cans behind the bar in the fridge were 80% proof, and enough to send almost any super into a stupor, or at least, slightly tipsy. If pure alcohol, literally, flavoured ethanol, didn't. There were almost seemingly an endless amount of normal IPAs to pick from, as if they had a portal into another dimension to reach into to grab IPA from. You could drink here for a month or two and not get bored, there was that much choice- but that meant as a result, seating was extremely limited.

Even so, the bar was actually half empty, bar one or two students catching up, which meant from the moment the team entered the tiny little bar, probably about perfect in size for the team's number tonight, the short, brunette barwoman putting away a glass she'd been cleaning as part of her boredom killing regime on a Tuesday- they were THE crowd.

A wall could be seen with various beermats and heroes signatures, with various little trinkets and logos joining it, a few tables and chairs against a plywood backed surface that made up the majority of the seating. Spartan, but in its own way, charming. A giant cardboard cutout of Phenomaman for some reason sat next to the bar, sscaled accordingly to his size, as did a Drink Responsibly poster with a picture of Quickdraw on it, one of the SDN Hollywood heroes that Lightning Girl had happened to chance upon back at VICE. Shit. The one she had suddenly grown her little fantasy crush into something real.

And hopefully not added herself to a register. No, it was fine....

There was also, interestingly, a karaoke machine in a corner, that appeared to have a small ocean of dust on it from how few people had the balls to use it. Indie bands had done little sessions in here in that area, but nobody really came to watch a performance when they wanted solid indie beers / ciders and the place was the size of a shoebox.

There wasn't much more to it, the place barely the size of someone's living room in terms of the sitting area, although the kitchen adjacent to the brewery indicated that someone was deep frying fries, right on schedule for the booking. James led the way in, despite being the least silhouetted of all of them, with a rare smile that came from finally being at the end of a heavy, big day.

"Right. Who wants a drink, first one's on SDN!" James said looking backwards, letting others order, Lightning Girl putting her hand out and excitedly smiling at the barlady, hand against bar itself and discharging current into the bar, giving anyone who touched it a small buzz.

"Sorry! Can I get a...."

---

Sitting down with the Intergalactic Witch, James was the casual looking one amongst Hat Trick, Eclipse, Princess and Payback.

James received his pint in due course, as the others had theirs poured from the seemingly endless array of pourers, and a couple of basket of Dirty, Dirty Fries joined it. Drizzled in an endless amount of mayo, pulled pork, melted Monterrey Jack, Stilton and Blue Cheese topped up with a drizzle of Hot Honey, it was *disgusting*. In more words, disgustingly tasty once you got past the clusterfuck of flavour it was. He passed out one large tray of it to the table that he wasn't going to where the other heroes were gathering and filling in the space, before he put it down at his where there was at least some space, before going back for his pint. His rain jacket was thrown on a coatrack nearby, though the rest of his trousers and feet were soaking.

A small sip of beer contacted his stubble whilst the majority ended up as a comfy gulp after a hard day sweating over the mouse and keyboard, as he put the glass down into the mat, shuffling into the tight space between Eclipse and Hat Trick, who were physically imposing.

"Thanks." James was among all of them, the most ordinary, NPC of any character. Without an SDN shirt on, he looked like he fit here if this wasn't a hero bar, glasses away given he'd put his contacts in off work, given all the rain outside. He was just anyone else. Normal. An NPC, amongst actual, real heroes. He felt out of place at hero bars, but then again, he reasoned he had an excuse as any to come here. He wasn't the main show, they were, but he was able to help them do this.

And get them pissed. Well. Within reason.

An eclectic bunch, more quiet than maybe Lightning Girl's table, James knew they were still all top tier. From Hat Trick's icy antics and hard work behind the scenes that many would take for granted but he really, really appreciated given it was his own weak point (hero consulting required everything, after all, and he was much better with the tasks at hand rather than socials)- to Princess, who was as ever, in her almost monochrome look, pretty dress as ever being as gentle as ever. Hiding all of the absolute terror she could unleash but hey, a beer maybe would loosen the cogs, though hopefully without maiming someone. And then there was Eclipse and Payback. First two he'd had to manage in the Phoenix Programme. They'd been shy, quiet, and sometimes, difficult. The former due to drugs, the latter due to her anti-hero self, not literally because she was edgy, she was anti this. But they were both doing well. Doing well enough to make James write positively in reports about them. He wasn't like the Americans, who were ruthlessly corporate. Keep your people on side, your people would save you. For heroes, literally.

So he meant what he said as he sat down, the weakest man in this bar.

"Cheers for dealing with all the shit going on lately. Thought this would loosen the team up. For what it's worth, I'd have probably gotten the beers in if Kat hadn't forced me to use the company card." James said more generally, looking to all of them, hoping they'd strike conversation as he did.

"I have no idea what's up with Riley, by the way. Guess I'm in the same boat as you." James sipped down more, looking across. "So cheers to keeping this thing afloat?" James put his glass out, hoping to get a clink.

"Anyway. You got plans for the weekend? Up to anything nice that doesn't involve running into burning buildings or splitting cars in two? Normal stuff? You're all people at the end of the day, this isn't some workplace sitcom that my......yeah." James cut himself off. Fuck. Half a beer in and he was nearly spilling it? Calm the fuck down, you moron, he said to himself internally.

Say fucking something or they will know, windowlicker.

"Like yeah, you have lives. Okay, Phoenix Programme, I get it, prison and remand and all that, bar Hat Trick who is almost certainly watching ice hockey highlights from 2004. But you three have freedom and you can do whatever you want now. And I have no idea what to do in this hot as fuck town, so surely you have something cool going on. Or just chilling out. I know I would after this week." James mused, almost cynical, sipping beer to avoid explaining his feelings.

"There are hills to go walking in and endless traffic to get lost in, and lots of desert. I don't know how you all do it, so I guess that got me...." James asked, almost wondering if he could get an answer. A question that felt perhaps more open, the dispatcher revealing perhaps a more hollowed side to him.

The kind that corporate wanted wherever the work was, chasing dollars, chasing savings, chasing not being fixed to an SDN contract yet following his own tail to keep it that way. A consultant's life was a nomadic one, contract to contract, person to person, moment to moment.

He had no ties to anything, yet because of it, he was open, almost unlike a dispatcher, almost a little more human. Temporary yet an everyman, like the people across the stalls who were also drinking, just here for some reason, even if that reason was this team before him.

"God this is strong...." He muttered, sipping it down, this stuff certainly heavier than most IPAs he'd drunk, until he saw the percentage. 12%. Fuck me, this was like wine.....no wonder, he realised, this was definitely punching past his weight for an easy Tuesday beer.

---

Lightning Girl arrived at the booth, where Feno, Madcap, Blackstar and Asteroid sat.

She had a cool glass of Double Lemon Aid, the lemon flavoured Double Hazy Ale going down a treat as she took the glass into a rubber-gloved hand, carrying it gently without trying to spill any on her already sodden wet costume, remarkably, not having the best balance for someone who was metabolically charged and still had a little bit of juice inside of her.

There they were. The two-black suited heroes, one female, the other male, one dark energy, the other gravity. Cosmic duo. Feno, of course, needed no explaining as she got past him, the big guy charming and goofy as ever, even if he was even more aloof than Phenomaman himself. Clones were a weird business, but she liked him. And Madcap. He was what he was, but after work, they were all beers in hand, and she had at least known he was what he was.

She sat herself down, wet cape draped by one of her legs and to her side as she detached the clasp and put it on a nearby coathanger, as she finally got to enjoy the sip of a well earned post shift, and most importantly, free, beer. It barely tickled her, so it felt like drinking a slightly spicy lemonade, given her metabolism was already working on ejecting the alcohol through her liver. She parked herself next to Feno and Blackstar, keeping the smaller hero from being as much in the shadow of the bigger one. Like an average almost.

"I am starving! I could eat a horse!" She leaned in and grabbed a chip, needing that sweet, sweet filth in her. "Okay, not literally.....sorry, it's a British thing! Anyway, I am so glad today went as well as it did. You all did amazing! So stoked for you...especially you two on your first day! Asteroid, you're like born to do this too, like you're nearly at the top of the leaderboard!" She smiled to the two right next to her then across to the gravity based hero, putting her glass out and keeping it in hand. "Cheers to that!" She added, as casual as ever, hoping to get some clinks in, before sighing, leaning back, taking it in.

"I love this place. It's so original, you know! Like, so many bars are so crappy. They're all stuck up and serve nothing but Coors. But this place? They've got a cool wall of stuff of heroes before us! Good fries! And nobody comes here! Okay, because it's a Tuesday night but still.....I think this is Claremont's premier hero establishment cos of us, you know? I mean.....we're kinda a big deal!" She smiled, trying to big the team up, a little energised, as she took some fries and un-girly-like, wolfed down. "Okay. Sort of. Maybe I got ahead of myself. But it's looking like we're at least stuck together for a bit longer."

She cleared that with a bit more beer, sighing, leaning back, adjusting her cowl with one hand before looking to the others at her table.

"So, Feno, I know you're from probably out of this world. Blackstar, Asteroid, you two both.....seem very cosmic. Would it be fair to say we're kinda the same? I mean, I'm not from another planet, I'm from England, which I know to Americans sounds like it is, but.....yeah, I know, it's kinda crazy we have that in common, cos I guess I got powers from something that wasn't terrestrial? Oh, and Madcap here is just out of this world too, I suppose. In his own way!" She smiled to the group and giving a chuckle on the latter with a smile at Madcap, getting chatty, as she drank more beer down, sighing a gentle bit of relief. Lightning Girl could be like this, the extravert, the social battery that she physically was. But given she was still carrying power, her social skills were still alight, trying to spark conversation.

"Kinda makes me think. I wonder what it would be like to be out of this world you know. Like, literally. High above it all. Look down from space on it all....my lungs gave out by the time I think I cleared 100,000 feet. Feno, have you ever done that?" She piqued interest, the conversation probably having more than enough strands to break off into anyone else, and cascade from there.

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

Round 16 of Formula AG
Sunday 22nd October, 2094
Race Day
Ballycastle Complex, Muller Cay, nr Australia
Great Barrier Reef AGP
0700 AEST

Sunrise at Sea

Cassie Neves

The coral waters were lapping at feet on the little pontoon, one of many that were built to provide accommodation and somewhere to stay, temporarily of course, while the AG circus was in town. On them, biopolymer houses all sat, light enough to be modular built by drones in the space of a day, strong enough to last a Category 4 hurricane if it came to it, and dissolve into ocean water within months, though often, they were then recycled into actual housing through treatment and stabilisation compounds. The pontoons were made of a smooth, but tactile plastic, that felt not all too dissimilar to vinyl laminate.

Cassie woke as the alarm triggered, her modesty covered with black underwear, her uncovered olive skin showing the signs of modification as she called out to her alarm to cancel. People lived like this in the wider region, she reminded herself. She had a luxury stay at least, that she could point to, as she heard her phone chime in with the scheduled call with her agent.

"Accept." She yawned, the coffee machine grinding and whirring alive, immediately rendering her usual brew, from Jeju to Cascais, exactly as her nutritionist accepted in terms of how much caffeine it seemed to prick her with.

"Morning. Is it like....fuck I have no idea of timezones anymore." Cassie should be used to this, as she heard Joao's voice stutter in and interrupt.

"Yes, it is....very late here. Cassie, I have bad news."

"Oh." She added, hearing a seagull go past her window, as she brushed her hair aside, wondering what it was. The money? It had to be.

"Carrera opted to stay with......their current pilot." Oh. That was a surprise.

"Ava? She's good but....really? I thought her and Bea hated each other." Cassie replied, as Joao chuckled, as she leaned back against the worktop, stretching out a little before beginning her usual joints routine.

"Maybe they still do, but, it seems they wanted a South American in the team more badly, and money overrides feelings. Even in Buenos Aires. But, on the plus side, your contract at Zygon is amazing. And your recent performances are turning heads. The team may still be a frontrunner next year. Rumour has it that Southern Cross are putting it all on the line this year. So, let's just keep going. Next contract here, we can renegotiate better terms, right?"

Cassie sighed, breathing out, knowing there was no way to change that deal. No way to be less greedy. No way to put the numbers back in a box. And only one commitment to make.

"Fine. Thanks for the update. Yeah. You aren't getting your percent for me moving then. But you'll get it for the next deal."

"Of course. Sorry to drop this on you. Speak soon." The line cut, as Cassie shut the window, and a yell could be heard.

---

Sunday 22nd October, 2094
Ballycastle Complex, Muller Cay, nr Australia
0800 AEST

Coffee Morning

Max Wedgewood, Kofi Mensah

Max sat there with feet in the lapping waves of the sea, watching on into the horizon, sitting there with Kofi, who he'd struck up a conversation with and was now sharing a coffee with on the dawn of the race. Sitting at the edge of the pontoon at the sunrise. He'd been the only person awake in the morning, and after a short jog around the floating paddock, Kofi was always someone to catch up with. Even if the topic always came back to the future.

"Retirement then? I mean, you've earned it."

"Yeah. I mean, I miss family. And SuperCat isn't going anywhere. I have no idea who's replacing me. But I'm sure they'll have fun trying to get it anywhere. Team needs more money. More than others...." Kofi said, openly, as Max didn't reply, listening to the older pilot, breaking the conversation back.

"You feeling good about Valkyrie?" Kofi asked, as Max chuckled, looking to the horizon, sighing, wondering if he had made the right choice. After all, Carrera had a falling out recently, who knew if he could have gone there. Joined Beatrix. But alas, Valkyrie was his choice. And it seemed only like the team would improve.

So he felt confident enough in himself. Enough to back it, in spite of the chaos so far.

"Yeah. I guess so. New future and all that. I'll have to replace Dorian Hornfleur. Hell of an expectation." Max got there, as both of them chuckled, Max shotgunning down the rest of his flat white with that thought.

"But you wouldn't have gotten there if you weren't good enough. How many other pilots would dream of that seat in Europe? And yet, here you are. The Knight connection helped?"

"Nah, he didn't really. He's Estonian anyway...."

"We all know that's bullshit, brother is FAS through and through. It helped more than you think." The Ghanian replied with a joke, wrapping an arm around him. "Look. The expectations will be higher. But, enjoy. And enjoy it all. Just remember that, no matter how corporate it is. Europe is no joke. They have paperwork for paperwork." Kofi joked with a pearly smile, as Max joined in too, the sigh following as they looked to the horizon.

"Maybe. I don't know. Hard season so far. Just gotta keep it in front of Nordic Call. That's all that matters for the fans." Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Whole continent wants us to beat those Swedish bastards so bad." Both of them laughed, the rivalry always present, and Kofi enjoying what he could while he had the chance in the last few races, enjoying the endless horizon of ocean beyond the floating polymer houses.

---

Sunday 22nd October, 2094
Ballycastle Complex, Muller Cay, nr Australia
1100 AEST

Brain Storm

Peter Thatcher

The man ran into the Silver Apex pit box, from out of the back of the engineering, as if he'd discovered the existence of DNA, or gravity. The Latvian seemed almost flustered, knowing interrupting the boss was a bad idea. But for this, it was worth interrupting.

"Peter, I need you to look at this. It's...." The tablet was open as the black-haired Latvian passed the tablet across, Peter sighing, before looking at it, before the Irishman's eyebrows raised.

"Oh." With it, he followed the tech, Linas Kalējs as his little label indicated from his holgraphic lanyard. It was a short, but brisk, quick walk that didn't need attention. Peter was an insanely busy man, but even he knew what this meant.

The room was soundproofed, as Peter swore, the data projected out, both sitting in chairs next to each other.

"How long?" He asked, looking through it, the contents not exactly seen of quite what they were looking at it. At a guess, it had to be Amy's brain scan.

"It's not critical. Not yet. But she's suffered a significant deterioration in qualifying. The neural link isn't talking to microsectors 24 and 54 of her prefrontal cortex here and here, because it's returning null." Linas had worry for her, looking through her other vitals as Peter took it in, not a neuroscientist, but aware that there wasn't anything more critical.

"But is it clear for now?"

"Yeah. We can't run the link like we want. But it'll do today, we need to tweak it to use a different area. She's going to have memory problems if we keep hammering it." Linas replied, as Peter looked on as he put his hands into his face, sighing.

"We're in deep shit. This can't go on like this." Peter said, as Linas sighed.

"We'll do everything we can. We've got copies of her neural profile. But she has an unauthorised one elsewhere too, like I told you. I told you that we couldn't trust her."

"So we're already screwed. That leaks out, and anyone who finds out....."

"Yes. No news from anyone I know that works in the field around Al-Saqr. They're like ghosts."

"Someone gave it to them. Are we sure the system is sealed?"

"As sure as we can. We ran tests, the only exception was.....here. If she made copies, it's someone with the servers, systems, tools we have. It's idiosyncratic. It can't be worked with. Not unless she dumps her mind out."

Peter looked at the date, the profiles of which were blank.

"She overrode us then. Personal reasons.....I wonder who else is in her head." Peter asked, as Linas looked confused, before swiping in.

"What do you mean? Literally? External influence?" Linas asked, as Peter swiped away from it, putting the tablet down.

"It's no secret I pay you to do what you do in a field that would be cutting edge elsewhere. And may I remind you, bending regulations. We'll need to regenerate what we can. Or worst case, revert to a slate. She'll miss a race and kill me for it. Best case, she won't know. But if she doesn't want to or wants to side-track us....then it might be possibly till season's end. We need to play this carefully." Peter almost spoke as if she was a thing, an object, but then again, memories and brain scans were like that.

What version of Amy was he referring to? The one that won races, and the one that was alive in a shell that resembled less of Amy now than it had five years ago. A thought he shared with nobody but Linas, who had a clear road to do whatever he considered needed. A practical neurolaboratory that zero other simulation tested. A real life example of what human beings could be. And unlocking the ultimate premise of humanity, the soul itself. A heavy task, but he and his team were the best in the world, even if the research plaudits didn't come their way.

"And what about Jenny?"

"She signed up to this of her own accord. Told me whatever it takes to help the team rein in Southern Cross. And given her qualifying, it looks like she's incredibly neuroplastic. Tracks with her work before." Peter added, flicking through to the other pilot of the team, as Linas nodded.

"We'll keep an eye on her. But yes. Wanted to let you know." Linas replied, as Peter stood, walking to the door.

"We'll look after our own. But we need to get to the bottom of this. We cannot afford it now. Not with those Oceanian bastards breathing down our neck. Not here." Peter added, and with it, was out, and away, wanting to put fist through polymer, but instead, reserving his anger for the raceday.

This was a bloody hard season.

---

Round 16 of Formula AG
Sunday 22nd October, 2094
Race Day
Ballycastle Complex, Muller Cay, nr Australia
Great Barrier Reef AGP
1300 AEST

Water Fight

Nora Kelly

The feeling of clambering into a ship never got old, as Nora slid on the coral-themed helmet over her head, the suit and ship painted a beautiful shade of neon green and blue, a blend that reflected seaweed and the sea itself, albeit with enough indent to remain different to the outside itself.

"Radio check."

"Clear."

"You clear on strategy?"

"Take first. Ship's still set to growl?"

"Yiis, Nora. The setup's aggressive. Careful out of three and four."

"Yeah, yeah."

The response seemed almost without thought. The harness clicked in, and her arm took the canopy, the prosthetic leg in a matching yellow opposite to her navy suit, as she exhaled. The Interior Circuit must have been wondering how someone like her was P2 on a grid like this, but all bets were off now. The arseholes in her past were gone. Now there was nothing but aggression. Fight to make a legacy. Fight to get every point on Stirling. And make history.

The books were screaming, and despite everything, Nora was now screaming, yelling internally, and if the Southern Cross telemetry alerts didn't constantly go off when she was warming up, you could just tell from the comms. This was someone who was ready to make hell for anyone in her way.

A future champion had no other choice.

---

"And that completes the line up, and well, Rosie, what can we say about the Great Barrier Reef apart from, what a spectacle this is! A circuit many people thought was a novelty, it provides a range of overtaking opportunities, and well, you'll never find a circuit like it. A short, simple track, and well, who is your money on?"

"Honestly? The way Nora Kelly seems be performing, she seems to be a fan favourite, and while there are none here, virtual AR tech means they're there in the bleachers and screens, cheering on fans despite how far we are from the Australian coast! But, my gut says that Jen Lowry seemed to be imperious yesterday, and as we know, once she qualifies well, she rarely relinquishes. But who can say. There's so much competition even at the end of the season, and I imagine Makara and Stirling will put on a fight."

"Well, as we make our predictions, the ships are all warmed, and we're seeing the crews all head back to their pit boxes, as we get ready, for the Great Barrier Reef AGP...."

The sunshine, the tension. The feeling of going under.

The championship in the balance. All of it, all on the line.

The feeling of sweat trickle in spite of the cooling on max, in the searing sunshine that mixed in coral with saltwater on plastic.

---

Soundtrack: Rise Against- Help Is On The Way (Gladiator Remix)

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

And it was a launch. A great start from Ben Hale and it propelled him past Max and even his team-mate, while further up, Amy already slipped back past Harrison after losing out on Turn 3, fighting with him already, the front shifting little but positions near constantly in trade. While many would have written off the simple layout of Australia as just a fast, repetitive circuit, the ELS opportunities presented by how bumpy the ocean floor was and ability to almost work in 3D for a good 50% of the circuit made overtakes easy, and harder to fight. Making up pace relied on consistency, and remarkably, due to its short size, was one of few that meant backmarkers, including Kovalenko and Mensah were lapped by halfway into the race.

Jenny had peeled away early, fending off a fight from Bea with little issue, which meant that Nora was prime to take back her position. Behind, Paul and Cassie would fight, the gap down to nearly nothing in the delta between them. They were almost inseperable, and inside her ship, Cassie wanted revenge. She was out for blood, she wanted Valkyrie to hurt. She wanted to make a point. They didn't replace their stargirl with a starboy that easy. Outside the ship, she may have been playing up to a standard but was ultimately just half decent, much like Paul- here, Paul was not allowed the possibility. But he was making it so.

And it went on. And on. A few times, a rare break. But a catchup, that didn't change much at all. Well....

Then Dorian broke down at Lap 40, a failure that carted him out of his 9th place position and suddenly, oepned up everything into a massive shitshow between 8th and 12th. In fact, almost all of the times were near enough the same on long lap averages, so overtakes were rampant- held up by a damaged Harrison who had taken a knock in his fight with Amy while the Silver Apex pilot had been lucky to avoid any significant damage whatsoever. Behind was Bellatrix, who was in and out of points fighting with Kais, Han and Ben Hale of all people, ranging from 12th up to 8th, basically, turning it into absolute chaos. While everyone would be obviously watching the fight between 2nd and 3rd, the real fight felt like it was scraping over points, especially given Nova and Nordic Call's new pilot had a chance. And what a chance it was for Bellatrix, who seemed to take like a duck to the submerged, tubular circuit.

Nora kept on fighting, going lap after lap, tangling. Every time that Cassie tried to get in, it was like the two of them spat her back out, and focussed back on their own fight. Cassie might have wanted the momentum to make sure Bea didn't get points, but ELS had a habit of excluding other people from intruding on fights.

But it wasn't enough. Not against Beatrix Ward. Even at home, even the virtual crowd going, she was skating a ship that felt like it was on ice versus whatever Beatrix had decided to bring.

A top tier performance, all things considered, one that Nora's home advantage and skate-like ship could not manage. But behind, the fight between Cassie Neves and Paul Mulder had also raged on. They'd traded places, hell, even Amy had tried to poke past Ava to get in on the action, but Ava had held her own and proven back to the team Brazil wasn't a fluke. She was part of the team's effort to score points, because while chasing Zygon felt like an impossible task, they were giving it a hell of a go.

Bellatrix finally got into her rhythm. And by some miracle, towards the death, would prove her talent even with a ship that did not belong in points. She would find 9th, following Harrison on a last minute move on Kais, and going to the line to take her first race completed with two points in a backmarker ship. Paul would similarly, win his fight with Cassie, and while catching Nora was not possible, it was yet again, an incredible performance, consistently putting himself in the top four in the last four races.

But all eyes were on the front of the grid.

"P1, Jen, what a result! Kept it clean, made it look easy!"

"Woo! What a result, wow, this circuit is incredible!" A voice of relief. Jen Lowry was proving herself to be the best pickup Silver Apex had made in years, breaking their curse of their second seat, but more than that, putting the ship where it deserved to be when their main pilot wasn't pulling the course. It was a hard ship to pilot, but when party mode was available to build an early lead, Jen seemed imperious in holding pace, and well, due to other factors.

Qualifying Results for Great Barrier Reef

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

---

Cooldown Room

The room felt humid, hot, and tense, as if the pilots themselves were literally cooling off, which, in some sense, they would be.

Nora leant in, watching. "Well.....okay, you got me there. Proper.....yeah." She chuckled, smiling back at Bea, the punkish Australian calming down a little bit back home, Jen watching her initial fight with Bea in interest.

"Look at us know, eh? Told you we'd be fighting at the top someday! And it looks like you got your second podium at last. Proves it wasn't a fluke!" Jen giggled, the footage cutting to her on top of her ship as she got out at the end of the race, as a shoal of fish swam by, hands over head with a cheer and to build momentum before backflipping from the glass canopy of her ship to floor, stealing a Daniel Ogier celebration in the process.

The marshal came in and gave the signal that they all needed, as Jen nodded to Nora to lead out first to what was a rapturous roar from the virtual crowd, followed by Bea, and then finally, her.

On the top step of the podium, Jen could feel the champagne bottle struggle to do anything, given it was under a little bit of pressure at depth, but it didn't make splurging the alcohol at others any more difficult, as she grinned to camera, enjoying what had been a breakout half year at Silver Apex, and under the waves, beginning to finally find her footing in her career. She was of course, completely unaware of the chat Peter had to deal in earlier....

Soundtrack: Metrik and Grafix - Waves

It was of course, inevitable as the ceremony completed and they headed upstairs, back above sea level, that Jen would ditch the main layer of her suit and also, backflip into the sea, perhaps with her best friend, and perhaps, in a rather throwing-back manner to their early SCUBA dive off the coast of East Yorkshire, but in far warmer, far more beautiful surrounds, as the camera switched back to the inevitable questions.

---

Delta Hyper Interviews

Aurora was once again at the Delta Hyper interview booth, mic set up for the pilots, still likely in suits, or at least, down to the undergarment element of it.

"Bellatrix, what a stunning way to make a debut! We know that Nordic Call hasn't had a good time of it lately, and you already look an improvement on your predecessor. You seemed to be in and out of the points, how did it feel fighting with veterans of the sport at such a difficult circuit?"

"Bea, what an epic fight you and Nora gave us. It seems like you're so much smoother out there, you seem to be. It seems you might have upset a local comeback, but, how does it feel to be scoring a podium again, especially next to someone you're best friends with?"

"Paul, an impressive turn of results, but it seems Dorian has had nothing but bad luck! Tell us about your fight with Cassie, how that felt, and how you pushed each other? Cassie's ex-Valkyrie, so I imagine the rivalry felt quite personal?"

"Kais, a valiant effort but it looks like it wasn't enough today. Tell us, what did it feel like, constantly switching and changing positions with the various ships around you?"

---

"Well, it was easy I guess. Just held my own, stayed calm. The fish were very pretty but I didn't get distracted, and yeah, we're putting the pressure on Southern Cross!" Jen chirped, the pixie-haired pilot grinning, posing for pictures as the other interview pressers flooded her for more.

"Honestly, Beatrix just got me there, she's so raw and I love it. And title chances? Well, who knows. I thought it was written off, but I'm excited. Watch your six, Amy!" Nora chuckled, laughing off the intensity a little, the flurry of more interview questions set off by that last statement alone.

"Can't say I'm unhappy, P5 is a solid result for us and the team, and yes, we will keep trying to look forwards up the constructors, rather than down. I'm definitely feeling more at home with the ship, so yeah, no more talk, just gonna keep it locked in and hope to keep doing well." Cassie gave a very PR response, but, after all of it, she had no room to be creative. She was exhausted.

"Very happy with that, feels like I built on the South American tour, no? But yes, ship was far better than simulations showed, and with Amy, Harrison and everyone fighting behind me, I felt like I could just hold my own race." Ava was chirpy, and any race she beat Amy Stirling, was a great one. Speaking of....

"Not my best, but just....." Amy hated excuses. She really had to remember the one. What was it? "Yeah, not there today, once I lost to Harrison at start, Ava slipped in and she defends well. We didn't have the ship for Great Barrier Reef, but massive kudos to Jen, who is pushing hard!"

"Yeah, absolute bummer really, took some damage from fighting with Amy too hard, but, nothing like a good scrap down under! Just gotta keep heads high, we're going into speedy tracks, and that's where we shine. We'll do better." Harrison replied, smile as ever, teethy in spite of consistently low points, rather than race wins.

Ben was next in, the NOVA Racing pilot having had an exceptional race, and almost being in contention for points at one point with how hard he'd pushed. "Well, yeah, it is a shame to lose points, but I think it proves our ship and setup is getting there. Super proud of today, just didn't happen, but next time I'll get there!" The young pilot replied, a grin to hand as Astrid was up next.

"Well, she is quite a talent! I think everyone will hear her name more, she finds tenths and already knows how to fight other pilots. That is good." Astrid cut zero bullshit, but, was actually quite happy, upbeat even, producing more than a single sentence of words. Which was high praise indeed.

"Yeah, 15th sucks but the other teams around us just had so much more in their package today, we had to recover. But we're at Bonneville and I am hyped for that, what a race that is!" Max smiled, media friendly as always, despite being that low in the standings.

"It has been horrendous luck, I am so upset. Nothing the team can do and it just happens, but sadly, you win some, like Hawaii and Monaco, and you lose others. We had to retire the ship and I am sure the engine will be looked at, just yeah, bad luck." Dorian replied, dejected, annoyed he'd lost yet again, another points position. For such ultra-reliable ships, he certainly was having a bad time of it.

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

One to One Wrap Ups

@Pragia12

What a question from the huge, burly clone. What a question. Holy shit. James didn't expect that, but well, he could answer the other aspects first.

"They'll get to know you. You're....well, learning everything here. And we are all going to the bar tonight. So you can maybe get closer to everyone then? I imagine they'll get to know you, they'll understand more about you. Same as you will them. They're a nice bunch." James replied to his first comment, trying to cheer him up, but that second part, man, was that something.

Did he like the team?

"Sure, they're a nice team. Everyone is really good at what they do. Everyone is different. But it makes things interesting. Thanks, Feno. Appreciate your time, but I've got the next person in a moment."

---

@Auragreedia

Eclipse's response was difficult.

James sighed, breathing out, his head almost slumping back, genuinely, honestly, stumped by his last comments, as he shrugged.

"I'll ask management. But be prepared to hear a no, okay? Actually, on that note....there was, a few decades back, this controlled drugs programme in the UK, you familiar with it? Kinda like Portugal's right now." James replied, leaning forwards, putting his hands on the table. He didn't pay attention or crack nerve with Eclipse. He clearly wasn't opening up. He wasn't interested. But he might be in the story he had to tell.

"It meant that if you had a heroin addiction, you took microdoses of it. Small, controlled, batches that were prescribed to you by a Doctor, not by a dealer. Tiny amounts. They switched to Methadone and it instantly got worse, so the junkie problem went out of control, and now, heroin is stronger, cheaper, and more powerful than ever before in the UK. Then coke came in, and it's so cheap, and it beats inflatio. Crazy how it works. We're lucky we didn't get Fentanyl, and.....what you create is nuclear compared to even that. So we need to get you off that drug, before it kills you. And you know I'm right. The addict in you can't tell, but it's smart enough to know if you hit that hard, you'd be dead, so you're controlling it before it overwhelms you. But I think we both know that it's bad for you and that shit is gonna end badly and ends with you sucking dicks from old men for ingredients. I'm thinking we find a method to control it. You don't want to send yourself to hell, Eclipse. I've looked at your history. You're so much more capable than that."

James was talking from a personal experience of a police officer who had told him that story. A bit of humour injected in there too, knowing Eclipse was one dark bastard, quite literally, and it would cut through to a drug addict's fear, albeit among a serious message. His friend watched the war on drugs fail. So, Eclipse was maybe lucky that he wasn't in front of any other dispatcher, but someone who could see to his core. Even if he hated this, and James knew right now, Eclipse had no reason to trust him, he had to try and break that wall down.

"No guarantees they'll say yes and if we do this, it has to be on my terms, and any more than that, I will come down on you. In the meantime, you're doing good work. So keep your head up. I'll let you get back to it."

---

But Madcap's one to one couldn't have gone worse.

Madcap raved, screamed, yelled. Grabbed James, and he stayed silent, all the time through it. Letting him rave, before being dumped down.

He tried to give nothing away. Was it possible he saw the link? Must have. But fuck him, as he reached across the table, hands on desk.

"Calm down, Madcap! I'm trying to protect you! Do that again, and you can kiss this chance goodbye...we're not talking about other heroes, we're talking about you! You think I don't talk to her or any other hero, and get her to write letters of apology, disciplinaries when they mess up like you did, you think it's just you that gets to decide right and wrong, you think I'm singling you out? Why would I do that, think for a second! I don't have any bloody powers, so yeah, I'm doing the best to help you so you can, but you do that again, we're done!" James yelled back before he left, interrupting him, making clear that he wasn't going to be put in a box.

Lightning Girl opened the door, looking in, the shouting match increasing the volume beyond the limits as Madcap stormed out, Sophie ready to step in and protect James if she had to from the commotion and the noise that exceeded that of the noise-cancelling glass.

"Everything alright here? I heard...." She added, Madcap still promptly walking past, the presence of Lightning Girl's height able to maybe dissuade Madcap from trying anything. And besides, he wanted to get away from James. After that match, it made sense.

"We were done." James replied, as Lightning Girl looked at the messy desk, and at Madcap, staring with a calculated, certain look back over her shoulders, not having heard the conversation, but the scuffle. She took the door and shut it behind her, being next in queue.

---

Sophie sat down with him, shutting the door behind, breathing out.

"Fucking hell. He's a liability." James added, as Lightning Girl helped put the desk back in place, pushing it back up to where the others were.

"What did you say to him? Your shirt is all....scruffed."

"Nothing. Tried to kill me. Usual. I know he wouldn't have made it a block before you probably tore the life from his eyes, it's not even the worst I've had after a one to one." He rambled, as Sophie looked him dead in the eye, sighing.

"James." It was one word. One reminder to get back on topic.

"Yeah? Sorry, it's like he thinks I don't treat all heroes equally. He thinks I'm picking on him. Thinks you had special treatment."

"Okay. Then how hard did you go in on him?" She asked, feet up on table, leaning back, chowing down on a packet of Bourbon biscuits.

"Fairly. As fair as I could. Same as I did to you when you fucked up. And you did fuck up badly. I can't deny that. Everyone gets treated the same because if we had favourites, we'd never make this work. Performance helps when people do well. But when there's a problem, especially numbers, shit changes. Your fuck up is dealt with. He's making one." James sighed, shrugging, this one to one weird, given they were brother and sister. And the dynamic was significantly weirder.

"Okay......so.....maybe he hasn't got the right idea of how to be a hero. Maybe that doesn't mean he's bad at it, and his mistakes come from that? Like, two out of three is good, even if one of them, he got his ass handed to him, the other, he.....did his thing. Maybe, he just needs someone to show him how to do it better because he's copying what he can't do himself. Going on his own, he has no reference level. Lunara was good, but, maybe he just needs someone to keep an eye on him who's a little lighter." She replied, James wondering where this was going.

"Go on? The team's got to be resilient. I can't give special treatment. Especially when I have new starters that need it more, and I know that Madcap is a long termer here. Wait....." James realised what she meant, right at the end, the cogs suddenly spinning as Lightning Girl put it into context.

"Well, how about I go for a dispatch with him? Can you do that?"

"Damn. You'd do that?" James asked, a little worried for her sister, especially after his rant.

"I dropped him off the other day and he seemed to take a shine to me. Before he kicks the shit out of you, maybe we try it? If you did the James shit sandwich special, yeah, Madcap was never going to react well to it. If he badmouthed me here, fine. But give us a job, I'll look after him and show him some ropes. And if he has a problem, he can take it up with me." She asserted, Sophie suddenly revealing a side to her that James hadn't seen.

"You doing my one to one Lightning Girl, or are you just....." James asked, chuckling as Sophie shrugged, not really sure if he was right.

"Eh. Maybe. Anyway, I apparently, can't open a fucking door to save my life. Sorry about that. No. So let me try and least make up for it." Sophie shrugged, almost wanting to redeem herself to her brother after earlier, blushing red again after thinking about it.

"It happens. We laughed about it more than anything, and there's a whole form we need to do. Better that than the other chaos that could have gone down. But yeah. Think shit through. Slowly. Not everything can be fixed with electricity and violence." James chuckled, as Lightning Girl shrugged.

"True that. But we owe it to ourselves to try!" She joked, as James put his face into his hands, sighing.

"Yeah.....not this time."

---

@cosmiccowgirl

James knew he'd touched a nerve. So, he didn't prod. No point pushing. She had her control, and that was fine by him.

"I understand. Not trying to poke, just don't want you to be scared in case anything happens, is all. If you have any concerns, I'm happy to hear them, my door....shit, sorry, cubicle is always open." James replied, putting a positive, gentle spin back on things with a small laugh, at the end of her response about her identity.

The compliment was nice, at least.

"Thanks. It's not my first rodeo, but, it isn't easy. Deciding what is priority....who matters the most, and having no powers means I trust you completely to do the job. It's not as hard as what you do, out there, as a hero on the frontline. But if I can make sure you get the right job for your skills, I'll do that. Least someone like me can do, and well, I'm sure there will be more. My job is to look after you as well, Blackstar. Make you the version of you that is the best hero you can be." James added, smiling, leaving that one to one on a high note.

---

@SonnetNSunbeam

Dispatcher for long? James wasn't sure. But well, what a question back that was.

"Honestly, I have no idea. But, looks like it will be for the foreseeable. And in a way, being honest with you, the stability is nice. A team to call my usual....it's better than constantly moving. I don't work here ironically, Asteroid, but I know heroes and I know you'll all make it work, even when the going gets tougher. In our industry, it does." James added, realising he was showing a side of himself he hadn't in any other 1-2-1. Almost a vulnerability, but in a strange way, a trust to the team.

"There might be some harder ones. So just be ready. Keep up the good work, and we'll just have to see what progress looks like." With that, the meeting came to a gentle end, not much said, yet plenty given out.

---

@Thayr

The response was surprisingly honest. And given the redhead across from the other redhead in chinos and a shirt had broken ice, James felt honest enough to let down his walls to Payback.

"I think you already did well at helping people. Even if you didn't like it. I don't like coming into work either. But, it pays the bills, and right now, sounds like it beats anything else for you, prison, especially. It's a part of normality I guess. We do things we don't like. I won't get prison. But I know enough about the US penal system to know it's a shitshow. There's no redemption there....but there is here. Even if it's gonna come slowly." James replied to her last segment, sipping tea down, leaning forwards.

"And I think we might still find a way to find you work after, even if you like being a thief. If stealing is what you are good at, maybe, let's reframe it. In fact.....I think I might have some ideas. Maybe we just need to find you the right.....thing. Yes, the right score." James replied, a smile on his face. Ice had cracked. He had gotten through to her. And an idea formed in his head, realising all of a sudden, what Payback really was. What a thief really was good at. She wasn't Invisgal. No, she was so much more capable, she was a bullet without a target. Someone who could break security, and put her powers to a terrifying use. And that meant not thinking like anyone else, but finding a new purpose.

She just hadn't realised it yet, but James might have seen from that one little talk, meant he was going to find her that target.

"That's something for another time. Thanks for coming in. Appreciate your honesty. And appreciate this isn't what you want. But I respect your reasons. Don't ever let anyone tell you they're not worthwhile ones. Nobody has their shit all sorted out. Not you, me, or Kat, Lightning Girl, anyone. If you're open with me, I'll do anything I can to help you." James sat up, finishing, knowing it was time to move onto the next.

"Thanks, Myla. That is, if you're comfortable with me using that name...I'll let you go, call in the next." James said to her, the last phrase, most likely to resonate.

Did he know everything about all of them? Of course not. But he could tell, there and then, she wanted to be seen more than a stupid hero.

James could see her for who she was without those powers and that addition to stealing.

---

@BigPapaBelial

Jameds nodded, smiling as Hat Trick just kept talking. Holy shit, he had a lot of energy on him. A lot of mindset. And he liked that. His honesty. His passion. But even he couldn't handle it all, perhaps, like how Myla couldn't. So he smiled.

"Fair enough, Hat Trick. The team needs someone to gel around, and so I appreciate you doing that, as part of this role. There's a team behind you so if you ever need help, don't be afraid to ask." James smiled, knowing the big man's donut contribution had kept morale up a bit higher, especially after a couple of not so great dispatches.

"They'll need all the support they can get. Claremont's not been doing great. But, we up our social numbers, and billboards, work, and everything else will flood in. It'll give us more resources. More in the way of help. And even for you, I could see a promotion in your future if you can drum up numbers." James teased, alluding strongly, knowing while he didn't have the power, Kat absolutely could.

"Thanks for this. I'll let you get going."

---

@Redking0380

Nothing he could do. James exhaled. She looked like she was having an existential crisis. He felt like he was having an existential crisis. His packet of Fishermans Friends were, an existential crisis. Nothing he could help. He knew that feeling. And didn't dwell on it hard. Princess was unique, a truly, truly eldrich horror among others. The pretty face masked a beast that had so many different forms that it wasn't worth asking where it came from. But, here she was, cheerfully in programme. And doing some good.

"Well, if ever I can help, I'm here to listen. You're doing good so far, so I just want to make sure this all works out. Thanks, Princess. I'll let you get on."

---

Late Afternoon Stint

Back in the chair, James sippped down more tea, and put his music back on in his ear.

Soundtrack: Happy Mondays - Kinky Afro

Typing, clattering, chewing on a packet of Midget Gems that Sophie had brought back from a Tesco in Holyhead, Wales. Part of her usual "grocery" run to get UK based sweets and treats back home. The donuts and snacks from Hat Trick had fuelled him and the team, and he was extremely grateful for it. First beer would be on his personal card though, James thought to himself. That was for later.

Outside, the sun had fully set.

And Claremont's A Team was back on shift, as Lightning Girl leeched some power from the rooftop transformer once again, cackling and floating up, before static flying into a rainy night, no thunder or lightning able to make it really appeal.

The rain had started to ratchet up, and was coming in "waves", sometimes pouring a deluge, sometimes a fine mist. It made visibility poor, but when it rained, it poured.

---

When It Rains, It Pours

The tasks had gone well, as James clattered away, taking back over from Tyler, a few more high profile jobs coming in. He nodded to Tyler, taking control for this one, comms on private.

"Okay, Lightning Girl, Madcap, I need you at VICE Nightclub. VIP night on and they need support with the doors. Head there and they'll give you high vis vests, comms for their end, and you'll be there until 8pm. Keep the peace and show SDN's public face." James added, sending the pin to them both. Lightning Girl had RTB'd, and looked for Madcap, getting ready to carry him there if needs be.

A bit more time elapsed. The shift was continuing.

A small job popped up. He knew who might be able to take this on. After their chat, James decided it was best maybe he didn't throw Eclipse too hard at the fire. He'd been on a lot of heavy calls, so maybe, this might be more his angle, and shadows and teleportation seemed ideal for the task.

"Eclipse, I've got a kid in northern Claremont who's lost his balloon in a tree. Yes, I know, but if you could get there and get it back, that would be great. Subscriber is really high priority. Routine chance to show him why we're the best and score some points." James felt he couldn't sell it well to Eclipse, but that would be like selling sand to a Libyan. Someone had to do it, and today, Eclipse was on that task. Private comms had helped at least shield that from the rest of the team, on that occasion.

Then two more. Much, much more serious jobs. Fuck. It had been not too bad up until now, the rainy night being mostly patrols and quiet check ins.

They were both black-scored. The emergency services contact had pegged these as critical priority, and that meant a full response was needed. It wasn't a kaiju, nor a serious heist, but two equally bad situations that were going to be hard to solve.

"Feno, Payback, Blackstar, we've got a high speed pursuit in progress on Interstate 10, suspects headed west in a black Chevy Suburban. Robbery gone wrong, dead civies, will update you in route....recommend you move ASAP. Feno, either you or Blackstar will need to carry Payback."

The other one felt intuitive in terms of who to send, because it was all he had left.

"Asteroid, Hat Trick, Princess, we have a house fire in San Antonio Heights, civvies at risk. Pin sent, need you there, ASAP."

---

Tuesday
19:15
VICE Nightclub, Claremont

Electric Atmosphere

Soundtrack: Bicep- Vale

The nightclub had pounding music that reverbed every time the door opened. A former bank, inclusive of a massive vault turned into the best nightclub in eastern Los Angeles, VICE felt like the place to be if you wanted even a midweek session. A fairly renowned Northern Irish pair of DJs were on the deck, so Sophie didn't even feel like the only British Isles originating person here.

It was a electronica night, and Bicep had decided to grace the world with tunes that didn't feel like they were going to implode Lightning Girl's brain tonight. Her ears were absolutely ringing, but the air felt lit up, and it felt cosy in only the way rave music could. She liked this, of course. But she had a job to do. Make sure the people coming in, standing in a long queue in the rain, super or not, had tickets, had nothing dangerous on them, and weren't intoxicated.

Lightning Girl stood at the front of the queue with a yellow bib over her white-grey suit and a headset for speaking to the Chief of Security, yet she still was taller than most supers and non-supers that were coming in. It seemed strange to put a woman, let alone someone as smile-y as Lightning Girl to be here, a bouncer at this sort of club. But, a mixed detail was always a boon. Women felt awkward being patted down by some burly guy, so, she was there as the friendly face. And having a superhero like her on the cards, well, it made crowd control easier. She was known in this community, after all, she was one of Claremont's easy to show off heroes, a face on a bus there, a billboard which Sophie still hadn't visited, and refused to believe was real, yet.

"Yep, all good." She had patted someone down, searching for drugs, weapons, anything that could cause a bad time.

She was smiling. This was like a long time ago.

She had that memory. Sophie stopped being Sophie when she saw that guy rest a hand on her. She started being a hero. Realising that power. The fact that when he tried to punch her, she didn't flinch. She just sent voltage back and watched him fly into that skip and break half a dozen bones like a ragdoll.

Power changed everything. It made her realise it was terrifying. But man if it wasn't cool.

"Have a good time!" She added as the lanky man headed in, as the next person stepped forwards in the queue, and so far, Madcap hadn't fucked anything up, dealing with the other queue.

"You doing good, Madcap?" She asked, adjusting her cowl, the cape in the cloakroom. This was Lightning Girl in a more "sporting" configuration, practical, still all the hero that anyone coming to VICE would see. And if they were to cause trouble? Well, she had plenty of juice thanks to a recent substation that had flooded her neurons with power. In the rain, her skin may have hurt, like weird pins and needles, but it was a night that wasn't at least as insane as what she heard over the comms next.

Another club-goer came by, unable to show her phone ticket on her device.
"I got this." And so Lightning Girl gave a gentle zap to the port, smiling back, the noise making it clear that she was trying to be helpful. The device rebooted, and the QR code appeared, as she scanned it and the noise came back.

---

Tuesday
19:21
Northern Claremont

A Single Luftballon

Eclipse would find himself outside of a quiet suburban environment, the rainy sky illuminated by the streetlights, and a kid with his parents outside looking up at a tree, before being confronted with a shadowy, armoured up figure. This wasn't Fenomaman. This wasn't even a hero that could fly. Why him?

"Wow, a hero from SDN! Thanks for coming so fast!" The kid exclaimed, still excited to see a real life hero, as were his parents, proud that their son was seeing a hero for the first time. The rain pattered down, but the helium balloon, with "8" written on it, perhaps an indication of why the balloon was up there in the first place, was not moving.

"Could you get the balloon from the tree? It would be so cool if you could!" He squeaked, pointing up, the conifer at least five storeys tall, and a heritage tree that had been stuck in the environment. It felt like such a low stakes job, but then again, James knew the score with stuff like this. The subscriber was a fairly rich and powerful individual, and on his plan, he had to consider even jobs like this. So, Eclipse it was given the wider situation.

---

Tuesday
19:30
Interstate 10
Southern Claremont / Heading twards Central LA

The John Bunnell Special

On the flipside, the gunfire and the high speed chase would be visible on the interstate from the elevated view that Blackstar, Payback and Feno-maman had. Cutting through the "wave" like effect of rainy clouds above the streetlight filled interstate they'd see a car rapidly cutting through dense post-work traffic, as sub-machinegun fire would be blasted backwards towards the police cruisers in pursuit. With gunfire pouring from the Chevy Suburban, stolen, and full of loot from a robbery, they were not stopping for donuts, or anyone. Weaving in and out of traffic on the way down, and unlike the jewel heist from earlier, two people had lost their lives when SDN Ontario hadn't gotten there in time.

The chase was fast, and the driver seemed disinterested in stopping. Spike strips or ramming seemed the only other option, but given how fast they were going, the robbers were making a move to terrify the police into backing down, or even getting ahead. A police chopper couldn't go in this weather, so, heroes it was.

The robbers weren't supers, or villains, that much was clear. Just regular assholes. But there were civies that were in the crossfire around them, the SUV like a gigantic battering ram. The heists, sure, there were people at risk, but this was something else. James got the message he wasn't happy to hear, but, needed to pass on. The police could back down of course, but given the speed, risks, and everything that had so far gone down in this chase, simply following them, even with supers, wasn't an option. They had to shut this down now, before what was a chase turned into a spree and innocent people getting hurt.

The tracker moved, as the target did, making the heroes in flight have to reallocate themselves to follow, and pursue as the cops did below.

"Team, local PD has given you permission to use lethal force. You need to stop that car, by any means needed. Civies got killed in the heist that SDN Ontario couldn't stop. Now they're on our turf, we end this now. Repeat, lethal force, if you need it.....arrest if you can but they're armed to the teeth." James had grit in his voice, like he was chewing on granite.

Situations like this could escalate seriously. More people could get hurt. And of all the things at SDN, one thing was critical. Property could be damaged, collateral happened, of course, within reason. But civilians getting hurt, irrespective of where you came from, what you did.

Another team's failure was not going to be Claremont's.

Moving traffic was tough to manage, but as the black Suburban weaved in and out of traffic, heroes would be under fire if they flew close. But if they didn't, the consequences could be so much worse.

---

Tuesday
19:35
San Antonio Heights

Fire and Water

When Asteroid, Hat Trick and Princess would arrive at the burning house in the hills, the fire department were trying to contain a blazing inferno, in spite of rain, made worse by the fact that all the vegetation behind it was ablaze.

The heat felt like a second sun. It burnt hot, the cladding aflame and starving the oxygen out of the air even from the driveway where the fire truck was parked.

"Thank god you're here! There's civies inside. We can cover you, can you get them out and help put out this fire? There's propane bottles inside, we don't get those removed, it's going to be a hell of a situation!" The fireman asked, respirator over as at this point, no doubt, the heroes. The water was being poured from the nearby hydrant into the hoses they sprayed on the house, keeping it at bay, but this fire was clearly escalating and getting out of hand.

In this instance, ice and fire might have been the obvious approach, but of course, civies were priority and so was stopping this turning into an even bigger blaze. They had to go into the fire, otherwise they'd drown the people they were trying to save, rather counterintuitively.

Heroes were more resilient, more strong. And more than anything, brave. Firemen without powers might have been braver, but without the breathing apparatus and the sheer heat, all three that had been dispatched were going to struggle.

But if ever there was a moment for the two Phoenixes and Hat Trick to make it count, it would be now.

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

Tuesday
15:40
Latibeaudiere Apartments, La Verne

Alternative Locksmithing

Soundtrack: Zorba's Dance

When it came to restoring entry, the heroine realised maybe the front door wasn't the place to start. If she could get inside his room, going in from a point of weakness would be the best.

That meant going up from the roof. Lightning Girl could get there no problem.

"Right. Stay here. I'll get you in your room in no time!" She replied, smiling back to him, white hair spraying everywhere as she stepped away and lept almost forwards and up, up and away.

Lightning Girl had done this sort of thing before. Zap a Codelock, find a window, pick a simple lock, get inside.

She hovered near the window of the apartment, finding nothing, no openings, nothing at all. Damn. Okay.

This wasn't a life saving situation, but an easy win. As hard as that would be, this wasn't fighting crime. Getting shot. Getting stabbed. Burnt. Any of that stuff.

This was a locksmith job.

She went to the roof, and found the roof access, and found that an easy one to peel. A simple zap from her hands killed the mechanism, and she had to really yank to get it open.

"Easy."

The white haired, cape having Brit walked down the stairs, and sighed.

"Oh, fuck. Really? That isn't in the regs!" She sighed, seeing the security pass having door on the other side, designed obviously, to keep intruders that would come in from the roof out, and emergency evacuations in. There was a Codelock to get back in. Some people might try and deduce what the code was. Or maybe hack it. Or maybe, do something even cleverer.

Sophie was of the opinion that anything with electricity was her bitch.

So she zapped it. And nothing.

The electronic mechanism hadn't sprung the door open.

She had shorted it and as a fire door of that design, it was now locked shut to keep any hypothetical fire in. And the mechanical release was now the only way it would work.

From the other side.

"Oh, fuck. Really?!" She yelled, annoyed, angry.

"Lightning Girl, what's..." James interrupted, hearing his sister get frustrated.

"It's fine! I haven't....I am fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah! Piss off and help someone else!" She replied, going to the door and grunting, and pushing hard. And pushing as the electricity built in her.

And sheered the entire thing off and smacked it against concrete, bouncing it off with a loud *clang*, as the entire mechanism was now completely gone to shit.

The door was off its hinges, her grey suit was dusty from the concrete that had been slapped with the force of a thrown metal plate, but, she was in.

This was a simple locksmithing job. Easy. It would be easy.

"Right." That was it. She was inside the actual apartments now! Okay, now she could get to this guy's door. 402, right?

That was the one, as she walked along the nice carpet of the apartment block, this place clearly more upmarket than where Madcap was living. Sort of place she might like to live.

400, 401, 402. That was it.

Except, the guy's door wasn't based on a keypad, or a Codelock.

It was a normal lock. Still a fairly weird looking thing.

"Right. I've done this before. It's....wow, is that Swedish? Swedish doors? Really? Oh, my fucking word, this day gets better and better."

The door in this fancy apartment complex was one Sophie had recognised before. The Swedes made their fire doors to very high specifications. It was made of solid fucking beech. That steel door she ripped off was probably only a bit stronger than this.

She took her multitool out from her little pouch and tried to push the pins out in the lock. Nothing. The lock was even a high grade. Not some crappy Yale. This was like breaking into a fucking bank vault, she thought to herself. There had to be like twelve fucking pins in that lock.

"Come on, let's.....no, we can't pick that. Okay. Why don't we....try one big kick. Just gotta hit the core of it....come on......please work? Like that worked last time this didn't, right?" She said to herself, hyping herself up, breathing out. She had some skill in lockpicking, but not something like this. She had a bit too much energy in her right now, and while that would normally focus her, it was leaning her towards violence.

That fucking door was going down.

So she took a run up and put her right foot out, one big swinging kick and....

CRACK!

She put her leg through the door.

Literally. The entire thing not splintering, but her entire leg just smashing through it and ripping it off one of the hinges. Her foot was still stuck, like a comedy sketch, her foot and shin on one side, her thigh and the rest of Lightning Girl on the other. The room was now accessible, but, it was an absolute mess.

"Ah, fuck!" She called out into the blind, comms ringing out as James queries what was going on.

This was going from bad to worse.

This was a simple locksmithing job....

Now, how the fuck could she take on some of Claremont's most feared enemies, bank heists, serious crime, talking to kids, being on ads, everything....and this was how she failed?

"What have you done, Lightning Girl?"

"We may need to pay someone out on insurance! Sorry!" Lightning Girl replied, trying to put her hands against the wall and the door, only breaking more of it, but not freeing her leg.

Then the frame moved a bit. And the render cracked.

Oh, oh fuck.

"What? What's going on?" James replied, no cameras giving him no idea of her progress. Lightning Girl was a bit too afraid to answer for now. Becuase footsteps could be heard.

Shit, someone was gonna see this. How was she explaining this mess?

A simple motherfucking, arseclenching, door opening, cunting, pissing locksmithing job!!

And worse than anything, police, another resident, anyone else, it was him.

The owner.

The subscriber had run upstairs, flanked by two friends, klinking a set of keys in their hand.

"Hey, I found the keys!" He seemed excited, but realised quite the mess Sophie had made with the emergency exit door smacked off its hinges and electrically fucked, and most of all, Lightning Girl with her leg firmly stuck in his door that was also, half off a hinge and with a lock that was completely disintegrated and in pieces across the fancy carpet.

Sophie couldn't get her leg out as she waved and awkwardly hopped on her left leg trying not to rip the entire frame out of the wall and rip any more plasterboard out, replying to James, but maybe, just maybe, just talking generally to the universe.

"Yeah, I put my foot in it!"

---

And sitting there, the dispatches passed, and a few failed. The pizza situation had escalated a lot. Fuck. Okay, that one, that was out of hand. He could blag that one. Oh, and the door situation. Insurance had paid out from SDN's end, that was a pricy bill. The car dealer was....not pleased but hey, that wasn't the worst.

And hey, the vlogger was happy. The jewels were secure. And the coffee run was....weirdly acceptable too. Okay.

James could live with this, as he sighed, adjusting his glasses, clicking his hands, putting hand to headset and transmitting.

"Good work. RTB, team, that's our break."

He breathed out, looking at the police report for the heist. Fuck. That could have gone really, really south. Eclipse and Payback had worked well there. And the vlogger had already sent an email. He pinged it to Hat Trick, letting him manage that. That was awesome. What a power pair that was. He tried to vary the team, but it was nice to see an obvious synergy come out.

The early afternoon shift was coming to a close, as the sun began to set on a drizzly day in eastern LA.

---

Tuesday
17:03
Break Room
SDN Claremont

Mid-Shift Break

The kettle whistled as Lightning Girl stuck it off the boil, leaning back against the wall, eyes rolled up, sighing, sat on her cape.

She put her head against the wall, eyes closed, then opening her eyes.

The other Canadian of the team.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Since when were you shit with Codelocks?" Matthieu bantered, mopping the floor with slush, finishing up in the end of the break room and now switching to a drying mop, the vinyl ancient and pretty disgusting, but given another few years thanks to the Quebecois's efforts.

She laughed, shrugging. "Urgh. Even heroes have bad days." She replied, the story getting around the team already, Matthieu finishing up and chuckling, shrugging as he took the mop and bucket out, leaving the team to it. At least Blackstar and Eclipse and Asteroid and even Madcap had done well. Maybe not Feno or Princess. But that sounded like a nightmare. Nobody was fixing that mess.

James shrugged and failed to add anything to Sophie's comment, not wanting to drive it home, looking across to the team, cup of tea in hand as he peeked his hand in. He'd been demolishing a Ploughman's sandwich, at least, best he could make from the ingredients at a Whole Foods. Which was criminally expensive.

"Nice shift, everyone. Just to remind you, one to ones are scheduled in once you're back on shift in the Meeting Room, and you can't opt out. I'll request you one by one. Remember, it's your best chance to talk to me about how it's going so far, and what you want to work on, because I want none of you at the bottom of the leaderboard. In the meantime, Tyler'll dispatch you while I'm chatting to you." James added, Lightning Girl nodding with nothing to add of her own, as she headed across to the power outlet and shoved her hand into the adapter.

"Yes, boss! Group question, can we get more pay?" Sophie played her favourite game with him, the usual one when she was in costume. His brother did not enjoy this. Ut was direct.

"That door cost about $4,000 dollars. So.....don't smack in doors." James replied, cold, sarcastic as ever.

"Holy shit! How do you spend that much money on a door?" She nearly spat out her water, as James chuckled, shrugging back.

"I know. Have a good break, team. Speak to you later." James replied, leaving the room as fast as he had entered it, as Lightning Girl turned a shade of pink.

"I promise, that door was made of like titanium or something." She tried to justify her way out of it.

It was not working.

---

Tuesday
17:35
Meeting Room
Claremont SDN

Mano a Mano

@Thayr

The first one in of all people, was Payback.

A skinny, red-gold, casual looking heroine. Magnetism powered.

"Hey, Payback. Thanks for coming in."

James looked across the table. Pleasantries, KPIs, all sorts had been addressed in each one to one. The sort of thing that normally came, how was your day, all that thing. The big vat of water on the table with a couple of glasses to at least loosen the tension.

But with Payback, James had gotten there a lot faster than he would have with anyone else.

"Look. I know you don't like me. But I'm looking for some cooperation with the team if we're gonna make this work, because I'm here to make you the best hero you can be for SDN, but most importantly, you. Now, so I can help you do that, can you at least be honest with me because," James started, leaning forwards, very mortal in this moment, very particular. Myla would likely see through this. James could. But he had to put on something. And the next part, well, that was at least honest.

"You chose this over prison, yeah? Because you don't want to reoffend. And because you're so bloody good at this, I'm just wondering why if you're gonna be this dour about it when the Phoenix Programme is that chance for you to leave it behind. Go past what happened to you. This is good work. I'm not some company man trying to tell you this is all there is. You decide where you go once your parole's up. So yeah. Tell me what's really pissing you off. Go on. And tell me why the others are different when they've come from poverty, drugs and the hood." James was blunt to her. But she was blunt back. So, he hoped that a bad cop approach might break the ice. One that at the end, seemed to imply something a little warmer, perhaps. He got in before she replied.

"I mean I come from a place with way less sunshine than this, Payback and find all this too loud. But we have to play ball with what we're given. I'm not asking you to be like any of them, capes and all, just....this job involves helping people. Something you're clearly very, very good at, but you seem to think this is all a mess. More you believe it, more it'll happen. Because what's driving that mentality? A hope you'll prove me wrong that it is? Or all of them are needlessly dressed for some crap you're clearly as good as them at doing? Or......are you hoping you prove yourself wrong and you're more than a thief, wherever it is you're going?"

The silence would be deafening. James had no powers. He was no hero. But he could understand Myla. See that there was someone in there who didn't want to be in prison. Hated the idea of this as a reform. But he knew people. Motivations, reasons. That they weren't ever gonna come willingly. But they would if they at least did it for themselves.

---

@Auragreedia

Eclipse came in next. The armour dark, the shadows that seemed to almost appear bad as James turned down the light with the adjustor switch, before sitting down, the same pleasantries, before eventually, cutting to the chase.

His mask still on, knives all over, holy shit, he was all blades and shadows. Umbrakinetic. Made sense.

"Nice work so far today. Maybe a bit overkill on the henchmen." He opened, knowing Eclipse had a rough time of it last night, but had pulled through.

"I guess the only question is, how are you holding up?" He added, tapping his laptop away, pulling up the monitor on his earpiece, which helped track a few vitals, including heartbeat. Checking that they were alive, that sort of thing.

"Because you have all the symptoms of someone in the withdrawal process of taking opiate-class drugs. Doing well considering, mate. So, yeah, be honest with me how you're feeling, and I'll chat to Alan....the Magnificent...." He struggled to say, "To see if I can cook you something up because I don't want you to be any less effective when you're skinning out. I know we'll never replace what you were on, Eclipse. But if you want time, let me know and we can look at something." James added, sipping more tea down.

"I don't see you as a criminal for turning to it. Apart from killing people in cold blood, but shit, that's half of the team. No, I think you're a victim of it. Same as anyone who plugged in Shroud's hardware into themselves. But you're clearly capable of doing a lot of good....even if you went excessive on those crooks, terrified a load of civies but you did get the job done, I will say that. And that I respect. We'll work on that bloodlust later because there wasn't any need for it. So yeah, however I can help, I'll help."

---

@cosmiccowgirl

Next up, Blackstar. Cosmic energy was a hell of a thing, James knew that personally from his sister's weird interactions. Black suit, like Asteroid, built out, a fighter and able to hold her own with the team. And now, seemingly, a new star on social media with what she'd done with UltraGal.

It was the usual, KPIs, then down to the main bit. More introductions. More bits to go through. But they got to where James wanted to ask some questions.

"First day on the job, Blackstar, and not bad at all so far. Are you feeling okay with it all? I know it's a mixed bunch, heroes, ex-villains. Claremont is a real mixed bag. Normally, you'd have an SDN dispatcher, but you have me for now. But, I'm a Hero Development Consultant, so my job is to make sure you can be the best version of you. So, I'll help you where I can to get you up to the best version of what you can do." James opened, looking at his file, on a laptop, instead of paper. Incredible. It was like he actually put time in to understand his team, digitising what was an SDN floppy disk into an actual PDF.

"Only question I guess I had was, given we do a lot of outreach, can I ask why you were so careful about the face behind the mask? I know, heroes cover their identity, makes sense. But you're particularly protective, and a full face cowl is rare for non-Phoenixes. From what I've seen, it's usually not ideal fighting people. I'm no hero so you tell me otherwise, but anyway. Just saw it from the clips is all." James continued, leaning forwards. She wasn't wearing it now, but he was curious.

"So I guess, who might be watching your step? If it's anyone here, are you comfortable saying, and if it isn't, do I need to make any adjustments? Anything to put onto the system with any old foes?" James added, leaning back against the chair.

"Because based on what I can see, I assume it isn't scarring, I'm sure you're fetching behind the mask. But from any facial recognition tech SDN or LA County use, they're not making out your face if they can't get your eyes and nose in shot. Not yet at least." James finished, knowing it was a tangent, but a worthwhile question to ask. It was the only part that had picked up his ears, the rest, so far, was excellent.

---

@SonnetNSunbeam

Then, Asteroid came through. Damn, they really were a doppelganger to each other, him and Blackstar. And they had been absolutely bouncing off each other from that last dispatch.

Black suit, silver shimmer, gold and red boots. Damn, what a combo. But it fucking worked. Must have been absolutely sweating his balls off in this heat.

The usual, cleared, James came down to it.

"How are you getting on? And I mean, it seems like to me you ran in with the wrong crowd. Came back and suddenly hit the ground running as a hero. It seems easy for you, so, I guess the question is, why do you think it feels like such an easy switch?" He asked, open, genuinely curious. No wrong answers, his body language implying that with James leant back in the seat with his shoulders and arms wide.

"Pyress yesterday, then that success with that vlogger. You're a natural showman. So yeah, I feel like I'm not sure what I can add. But tell me what you think." James left it even more open. But with Asteroid, he felt he had to. There wasn't much to really critique, pull along. Some Phoenixes were like that. Just give them a good cause, a reason to stay out of prison, gainful employment, and they ran themselves. Unlike Myla.

---

@Pragia12

Feno-maman. Massive, burly, alien clone. Dude frankly occupied two seats in his office. He was nearly exactly the same as the legend himself, but something definitely felt off about him. James made a note not to go too deep into him yet.

There wasn't much to do.

"Hello, Feno. I just wanted to check everything was going well for you at SDN Claremont." James went simple with him. Fenomaman was not exactly going to be renowned for his ability to chat. So, eh kept it as blunt as needed.

"How do you like the team so far?"

---

@Redking0380

Princess was in next.

A white dressed, almost alabaster skinned, eldrich horror that was almost as if she was from Arts and Crafts era England in a beautiful white dress. Strange, but then again, James had gotten used to this. At least she wasn't a sentient bit of rock that had a crystal rammed up it.

"Hey, Princess. Thanks for coming in." The 1-2-1 pleasantries were out of the way fast.

"Tough call that one at the pizza parlour. Not much you could do, but, hey, we'll go for the next one. Anyway, I'm aware you seem comfortable shifting from form to form, and what I have on my desk, I've got three forms so far. I guess the only question I have is are you okay as you are in this base form, Princess? I know you'll always pick a form when you get there. But when you're back at the office, are you all comfortable as you, and is there anything I can do to help? Within reason, of course." A delving question. But one that she could answer honestly.

---

@Sadu

Lunara followed. All pleasantries, then cutting straight to it. Dark armour, and just arriving in time for the start of the second shift.

"Hey, Lunara. Nice work last night. And good to have you back." James stated, chewing away at a Fisherman's Friend.

"I won't ask much about the whole relationship with Solaris, that was....grandfathered in. One looks after other, dark follows light. I guess my only question to you is, how do you find it behind the mask? When you go back to dawn, are you taking enough time for yourself?"

---

@BigPapaBelial

Then, Hat Trick.

Large Canadian in armour and with that fucking sick mohawk too. Master of ice, of course. It made him versatile, but for taking hits, there was nobody like him,.

"Hey, Hat Trick. I know this format is weird." James started, knowing it was odd to be 1-to-1'ing the PR rep. Someone with a more silver tongue than even his own. Some more pleasantries.

"How are you finding the team? I know you didn't do well at the dealership, but, you're a do-gooder at heart. But that's the problem of being corporate, I guess." James sipped down his tea, still frothing hot from the refill he got between sessions.

"How do you find that balance between the two? Honestly, open question. I think it's the part I'd struggle with too. The job was to stick to a script, but you were honest. And I can't fault it. But, if you ran into that again, what do you think you'd do?" James asked, knowing that was hard, but well, he was here to get a measure of people. And help based on that.

---

@Auragreedia

Lastly, Madcap.

Madcap.

Mad.....cap.

Madcap.

Where the fuck did he begin?

He checked his notes. Right, he thought to himself, watching as the other hero energetically sat down.

Usual chat first.

Then to the meat of the matter.

"Madcap, I'm.....I'm not going to lie, you're......your heart is in the right place. But, and please take this constructively. I don't think you can tell the difference between doing things because it makes you feel like a hero, and doing the job that a hero does." James started, leaning back, eyeing up the bug mask.

"I'm not a hero either, mate. But the thing you need to ask yourself isn't about how it makes you feel. It's about helping others. That's what being a hero is. And you did well with the coffee order earlier, despite.....the review that was mixed. And at the dorms you took some hits so Lunara could finish the fight. So you're capable of doing it." James started, checking his notes again, running through it. Not needing to. He knew what to say.

This was a shit sandwich. How does a shit sandwich work, James would ask you at home, reader? It works in the following method....

"But do you think hurling that old lady is what she would have wanted? Because it was a nightmare to fix on my end. Madcap, I don't need to remind you that you're a Phoenix. That means if you underperform this, you will go back to prison. And right now, you're nearly at the bottom of the leaderboard. I treat my heroes the same, but that fact alone means I need to be really careful because I don't want you to. And you don't want to either. I can tell." James didn't mince words. But, that was about what his notes said.

"So I'm just asking you to take your time. Think what you're doing through. Being a hero isn't just about the costume, or the mask, or who you are. It's about making sure that you're helping subscribers, so they can do good. Forget what you're wearing. Do good and try not to hurt people we help. Does that sound alright?" James was open, confrontational, but in a strange way, able to read Madcap. Put it into easy words. Big words.

---

In the meantime, Tyler would be up against quite a few big dispatches. He had to make some calls with the heroes he had to hand while James wasn't there, and would no doubt, have to play the game as best as he could. He had some dispatches (minor) to make up, small things that the heroes would likely sort on their own, but, he now had an insight into how the system worked. He would be seeing that in person, and James would come back to do his one to one later. It was no doubt stressful, difficult, and hard to manage, and the team would be dealing with the 18 year old for a little while.

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

@Bagel

They're all pretty interesting, but:

-Luck is insanely hard to render in the gameplay
-Door based teleportation / copycat are fun, but really rely on being deployed with other people. While that happens, both feel tricky to bring in -and still rely on a "core" power (think Prism) to really make this work / play. It also feels a bit light to be honest in door-based teleportation, that's just portals and probably not a main power, per se, but another "option". In something arcane, that would work nicely, but not as a primary.

My only concern is that the shadows theme is still something we already have too as Aura mentions.

Happy for you to PM me and I can help workshop something else. I think trying to avoid something we have. We have two "cosmic" heroes (arguably, already four), as mentioned two / three with light/dark / dark energy styled powers, so I'd like to see any future chars that come in have a slightly different theme. I think there's lots of other stuff to play around with, especially in the more arcane / technology / Batman-style vigilante side of things, which haven't at all been explored at all.

@Ezekiel

I might be tempted if you have an idea / char that you want to play with! PM me and I'm happy to take a look.

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

Round 16 of Formula AG
Saturday 21st October, 2094
Practice
Ballycastle Complex, Muller Cay, nr Australia
Great Barrier Reef AGP
1100 AEST

Hydraulic

The feeling of being harnessed in. Above, a burning sunshine, canopy open, arms out, harness clicked. Below, 30 meters of elevation dip and spiral.

Formula AG was not as vicious as UFC, constant as hockey, team-based as football, flair based like basketball, stats based like baseball. It felt like a fuse of all of them. A body pushed to a limit, analysis, but more than everything, courage when it mattered. A machine could pilot any ship faster than any of them. But when a neural link came into play, it didn't feel like being fast, it felt like being between the blinks of an eye.

The subtle, gentle breathe out.

The screen back at the pit box. A render of Jen's brain, far more than any normal brain scan, if a machine could tell you the overall mood, passive feeling, anything, this would be it.

One of a gladiator.

---

Soundtrack: M83 - Water Deep

The circuit was a relentless one. With a corner going left at the short straight, the track dived into a massive funnel that dived straight into ocean. A massive open straight was flanked by ballistic-grade reinforced glass on either side as a tunnel that sat in amongst the initial research area of the coral regrowth, the long back straight bumpy with broken sight lines that led into a fiendishly hard hairpin, the K-Bend, named as such due to some random engineer that had proposed it stayed away from the enormous lump of coral beyond it that almost seemed to make a living blob of organic mass. The sunshine was strong enough to create sunbursts into the track, but no vison system they had adjusted to it perfectly, beyond the LED-like lighting that illuminated the walls and the reference point to the floor. Uniquely, given it was a tube, it meant that overtakes could be literally taken inverted through MAG tracking that was placed in straights encouraging absolutely rogue behaviour, and as such, Great Barrier Reef was probably the easiest track to overtake and snatch positions on. While normally that would benefit ELS, the bumps and surface being incredibly rough, along with the type of hairpin made low speed stability key.

The hairpin was tight and went left, testing stability and control in each ship, a massive bank that was enough to rival Argentina or any other circuit, spiralling down and then back up towards another right hand hairpin after a long straight, a more open, gentler affair than the last, but still, winding out. Another long, left turn wound the track back around and surfaced at the back of the Cay, before turning again and diving under a small section of water, and like that, spitting back towards the start straight on the opposite side of where all the magical science happened that had started the regrowth of the coral. Simple, fast, winding, almost like a motocross track, but given most of it was about 20 meters below sea level, and the ability to snap a shot of an AG racing ship at full tilt with a shoal of fish in the background beyond glass (without AI or photoshop), made it rather extraordinary.

But for the pilot that had set all purple sectors, it was another demonstration that Jenny Lowry was proving she was no fluke.
"P1, Jen, mega lap, all attack through there."

"Woo!"

She was being hunted by Nora, the local favourite. And Beatrix Ward. Amy was not close at all. But tomorrow would change all of that.

Qualifying Results for Great Barrier Reef:

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

---

Interviews

The interviews took place within an underwater dome, with fish and coral visible outside, at a stewards viewing point onto the circuit itself, moored slightly offshore from the spit of sand itself.

"Bellatrix, we heard that Nordic Call brought upgrades, and it looks like you've delivered. How are you feeling coming in and instantly making an impact with points?"

"Beatrix, a solid P3 effort, and while stability may not be Carrera's strong suit, do you think you can hang onto another podium?"

"Kais, not the result we'd be hoping for, but it seems like Al-Saqr are looking forward to the speedier circuits of the grid. Are you looking to limit damage at Muller Cay?"

"Paul, it looks like you were breathing down the neck of Cassie Neves's time on that qualifying run? It seems like you're so tight knit, how have you found your laps here today?"

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Day 2: 06:15:42
Polavian Standard Vodka Distillery,
Novy Jork,
Capital Province,
Republic of Polavia

Moving in, the cardboard box of the warehouse eventually giving way to the actual stores of vodka. Row after row of crates of vodka bottles, all pristine, beautiful, white, ethanol-rich gold, well, on the far side of the door that Borys had opened up.

He picked himself up after checking his surroundings, dusting himself off and checking that the wine bottle hadn’t broken in the fall before walking over to the door, placing a hand on the crash bar and pushing the door open, hoping it wasn’t wired to an alarm. “You said something about entering my dreams, Butterfly?” He shot Oksana a grin, gesturing into the bottling plant as he waited for the rest of the team to enter. “Step right in, don’t be shy.”

Oksana cracked an incredibly rare smirk, the butterfly-tattooed arm of the Polavian resting an arm against hers. "Check you haven't damaged your head. I think you are already there." She crassly remarked, Vityaz in other hand as she walked on through, checking the office, looking around for anything useful, paperwork, reasons for why they were here. But nothing. This was just an admin office, and at this time of morning, nothing was going on. But the frontage beyond it was staggering. Looking on at the world of endless bottles of vodka, stationary on the line.

"Oh....wow." Oksana added, the operation pristine. It went from grim and horrid to modern, cutting edge, even. A vodka factory would seem like an easy place to cut money, but Polavian Standard was world-class. And world class vodka demanded a production that met world demand.

Felix paced forwards, adjusting his hat, the Libolian peeking through the next door as he opened it, Felix moving on the catwalk, moving down stairs and towards the end of the production process. The olive tac-hoodie wearing, gazelle-skull attached operator not taking the time to take it in, but provide overwatch.

He contrasted to Oksana, whose sage green shirt and Ghillie (now rolled off her head and off her arms so it didn't snag) with her stubby green hat was following, long SVU on her back, shorter SMG in hand.

"Up ahead. Looks like we have hostiles." Oksana mentioned, taking a knee behind a leg of machinery, the quiet suggesting no hostiles here yet.

"Any way to route around them? I'd prefer not to take on more PSA." Felix replied, as Oksana, shrugged with a lack of options she could see in the killzone in the corridor ahead of them.

"Negative. Every time I run forwards, they spot me. It's like they're looking into the other side of the plant. Where the distillery is." Oksana replied, Felix using that to inform his tactical brief.

"Splendid. I got lights high, and another cabin ahead. Looks like a party. May as well go aggressive. Hit them before they hit us. Then keep moving to the exit." Felix replied, rifle from point to shoulder, looking over shoulder, keeping to a wall filled with vodka bottles. "Silas, on me, we'll take the high road. Borys, Rowan, Roxie, take the cabin ahead."

Oksana turned to Silas. "One for you then. If you want to see inside, this might help. You'll be able to seer." She offered the medic the binoculars, knowing the two hadn't really interacted, but then again, the Libolian had been so far, a bulwark to the team in how he held them up.

On that note, they split up, and moved forwards, getting ready to spring the trap on the PSA, rather than vice-versa.

---

Felix kept a low profile, 417 poking up as he checked the maga-imbued 7.62 rounds, cradling position on the catwalk, holding low against bottles of vodka that were stationary on the factory line.

"Okay. Clear." Felix added, keeping point ahead of the team's medic, keeping his feet careful on the metal, the place claustraphobic underneath more pumps and machinery.

Looking to Silas, Felix stacked up against the door of the SCADA control office, the large office overlooking the entire bottling operation.

The machinery suddenly erupted into life, as bottles moved along. It was like a series of giant grabs moved along with empty glass bottles at the rate of hundreds a minute, each in cradles, being injected with vodka at the far side where the distillery was set up, then sealed via an automated process that stamped a lid in.

This was incredible. Polavia invested in robotics? Since when? He expected someone to be at the far end of the line, but the bottles instead were being sent into an automated batching system lower down, that was supported by workers that were moving down the stairs, out of sight.

"Okay. This, this is a flashbang that really messes with things." He started, peeling it out, the Holy Flashbang imbued in a brilliant, beautiful purple across its patterned, knurled cross section.

"Switches people in place if they're in zone. Do not look at it when it goes off, or you will switch positions with someone in that room. Lot more people in there than there are us from what I can hear. Doesn't sound like workers." Felix added, pin pulled, clutched tight in hand, ready to hurl hard through a crack in the door once he bust the lock open.

"Can you tell me how many there are inside, you got an angle or can you see what happens if I kick this door in? Then we shotty them up." Felix asked, guessing the vessel that Roxie had offered Silas, if he had chosen to take it, might help. The Libolian switched to the shotgun on the 417, the Masterkey able to live up to that if he kicked this door in, and the KS23 from Silas able to support. Said masterkey would open more than hearts and minds, using regular 00 buckshot over mana-enfused shells for this particular party.

---

Lower down, that was where Rowan, Borys and Oksana could see bottles be transported along, full of vodka, into another cabin where a shift of workers were in the next cabin across from theirs, dutifully pulling them into cardboard boxes, clinking loudly. Civies. A small shift for the morning, but the main noise was PSA soldiers in the cabin, a fairly large facility where the bottles were QA'd and even one of them was yelling as he shotgunned a bottle for himself.

"Okay, sit tight." She said, PP-19 in hand, kneeling and seering, eyes going all off colour, imagining it.

She stood inside and ran. Bullets flew. She could see them all. A guy with a armoured up helmet. Another one with a standard Uley. All carrying AK-74Us. She got filled with rounds, and her dying look was watching Rowan's head get splattered with a shotgun round.

Roxie stopped seeing. And started believing.

"Guy with an armoured helm left, he's got a shotgun." Oksana called out. "Okay. Rowan, think you can cast something to haze them? I can see if it'll work. Perks of sight." Oksana commented, knowing Rowan would be confused. "Tell me your plan and I'll see it. Then we execute it." Oksana added, looking to Borys, tapping him on the shoulder. "Every scenario I see though, this drunk fuck doesn't die though. Recommend we use him as a pointman. And fill him with enough booze to take on a tank." Oksana chuckled, looking to him as she adjusted her hat, checking her mag, before sliding it back in, riffing behind him, ready to kick the door in on Rowan's command (as she called it) and follow Borys.

---

Meanwhile, inside of the block that Upswing would be sitting inside of, yelling could be heard.

Someone had rumbled him.

Who? It was hard to say. But, it looked like things were about to get active.

And that he might have to find a way to quietly get away. He would be good at covering his tracks, of course, but the PSA had a way of finding out where people were. Some thought telepathy, even if that was literally possible, but more often than not, was just solid local intelligence. And now, he had choices to make.

But they were up against an illusionist. So their odds were poor.

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

@Bagel@Ezekiel

Sadly I think it's closed for the moment, but more than happy to let you know if a space opens up in future! Really sorry but I'm gonna let this go another day and see we get on with our new system?

Bagel- As a general comment- they seem very similar to a char in the RP. So while I'm not closed to the character, maybe a slightly different powerset would be better to avoid a clash?