Opulence was something of a rarity beyond the reaches of the megacorporate dominated systems near Sol. There, where Council and conglomerate money shone as bright as the stars themselves, did Roarks flow like wine into the visual affluence of those with the wealth to flaunt. It was a message, one of power and control, one that was shouted with such confidence that it could only be born of those untouchable few giants of money and power. For they were the ones who built the very empires upon which laws and rules were founded for, not with.
Such was the pervading atmosphere of the Racer's Heart. The very moment Jack and Lix stepped boot and claw upon the decks, the duo knew they were very much treading upon entrenched enemy territory. Even here, within a docking bay usually readily identifiable by cluttered decks and hurried dock hands, money could be seen thrust into their faces as nothing more than a warning sign. Floors clean of oil, painted with a gleaming crimson coating, led to multiple spiraling sets of steel stairs with handrails engraved with flowing filigree to an observation platform populated with sharply dressed attendants whose work wear most likely cost more than Jack made in a month.
And he owned a shop.
"Ooh, friendly bunch. Think they'll sneer or look down their noses at us?" Jack whispered into Lix's earhole as he gently pushed her ahead of him. This was her yard now; He was just along for support. Like a jockstrap, only marginally less smelly. Trepidation was obvious in the Kux'lar's movements, her clawed feet hesitantly stop-starting before willpower won over. With Jack's looming presence behind her like a buttress, Lix felt a buffer to her confidence that would never have been possible alone. Absentmindedly, her tail wrapped around the Human's thigh, his crooked grin growing. Her touch was something he was quickly getting used to, as anyone else might be sporting a bruised jaw.
Together, they ascended the spiraling stairways to the upper deck under the watchful, and reproachful, gaze of several well-dressed patrons of the Heart. Most however, looked upon them with unabashed interest, their pressed cuffs wrinkling as they leaned on the rails to get a better look. Hints of her name and ranking during the last preliminary reached her ear in drifting, rasping stage whispers that grated on her already strained nerves. Lix and her newest mystery crew member would be the gossip of the hour and, in turn, every racer worth their salt would know why Jack was here within the cycle.
One figure stood out from the rest. A hulking, furry species akin to an upright dog. With meticulously groomed fur and a resplendent suit, he cut an eye drawing presence that drew Lix in, her head bobbing as the dog man nodded his head. Jack pinned the individual as a Etmerian, a species born on one of the Whisper Box's massive agricultural worlds who had lost their planetary rights to an aggressive buyout from the all-powerful banking conglomerate, their home reduced to a massive factory for the super wheat that went into Meelk production. Now, one could often see them as servants, renowned for their attention to detail and eager to please attitude. This particular example boasted shining gold fur and drooping ears. His tail, Jack noticed, never twitched even an inch…
"Captain Lixistruzsias, I presume?" The Etmerian's voice was clean and even, measured with the care of a lifelong career in service. "I'm to escort you to the registry office at your convenience, madam. Is your crewmate to join you?"
"Yes." Lix's tail tightened, Jack stepping closer until she could feel the warm-blooded mechanic's body heat near her side. "We'll only be needing the registrar's services, nothing else." One didn't even need to look closely to see the canine's lips tremble as he fought the near ingrained spiel of up sale he was no doubt trained to offer. Jack was sure it was some vastly overpriced food services, 'relaxation', and most importantly, VIP sponsor lounges where the best of the best could rub elbows and strategize. For a fee, of course, no one wanted the untested rabble to gain access to the elite circles where they could hear all the best advice, after all.
Although… Jack was no better himself, the Human having to literally bite his tongue to kill the snarky quip that rose in his throat. It would do no good to piss off Lix's enemies here in the swirling center of her dreams. So, Jack did what Jack was not very good at. He shut up and followed the crimson scaled lizard through territory she obviously knew better than him. In the end, here, the man very much was just support. So, support he'd be, to the best of his ability at the very least.
"What do we call you, sir?" Lix asked, her head tilting as the dog man turned, leading them across an expansive viewing platform that allowed all to see the busy dock and powerful ships below them. The actual deck itself was interspersed with patiently waiting Etmerian's guarding rolling carts of finger foods and minibars, each one appearing to be eagerly awaiting someone to serve. Not a one was wagging their tail, each fluffy appendage hanging straight, loose, and still. Jack eyed a platter of hors d'oeuvres, his glancing gaze asking the, he guessed, female attendant that all important question without even opening his mouth.
'Are these free?'
Smirking, she nodded, her grin dying into a slightly peeved frown as he took four. Real cheese and meat slices glistened beneath the overhead lights, some manner of oil oozing onto his metal fingers as he reached around Lix's shoulder to offer the morsel. The raptor flinched before glancing about, the scrap vanishing into her maw with a near silent clack of teeth as Jack snatched his hand away.
"Damn, lady!"
"You may call me Andrus, Racer's Heart attendee." The golden dog man raised an eyebrow at their antics, Jack uncaring as he glared at Lix. She could have scratched the paint on his hand. "If the couple could cease their shenanigans." Andrus trailed off as they approached the far side of the viewing deck, several lines of multi-passenger high speed rails terminating the platform and spanning off into the dark entrails of the super-dreadnaught. Without them, the personnel and guests would be in for dreadfully long walks, longer than feasible for any crew hoping to man a ship of her size. Each one connected to an overhead mag-rail, perfect for high-speed transportation about the gargantuan vessel.
"Do these cars have bugs?" Jack asked as he placed a hand on Lix's shoulder, his jacket bunching upon her scales, holding the raptor lady in place as he stepped in first. A soft whir, barely perceptible, whizzed from his eyes as he glanced at the posh interior before stepping back with a grin. "Ladies first."
"Lady, huh?" The Kux'lar's smile was just a devious, her tail sliding along the man's hip as she pushed past him. "I'll let you know when I find some soft damsel for you." Lix sat gently on the far side with a wink, her fangs gleaming in the low light. Jack followed, Andrus sealing the hatch behind them with practiced movements. Gently, the pod seemed to almost lift, gliding along its rail without shudder, sound, or discomfort.
"The transport pods are equipped with camera surveillance, but not audio." Andrus informed them, sitting across from Jack with a dainty plop.
"That so?" Lix tilted her head, trilling deep in her throat as she thought. "In that case, how's the racing scene since the shake up during the last preliminary?" Several claws reached into her jacket, a single Rorak disk, or Risk, gleaming between her digits. Andrus simply waved the bribe away.
"Your coming in first has rattled the betting rings tremendously, I haven't seen a grid this heated since the twelve ship crash ten years ago in the Loln Run. Most of the high rollers are on their feet, and I'm sure you've already dealt with… less than honest tactics to even the playing field." Andrus grinned as he crossed his legs. "I hear rumor of a monetary reward for removing you from the race. Keep a vigilant watch, captain, us plebeians enjoy you dark horse pilots."
"We may have encountered some resistance, yes. All part of the game." Lix smiled, but it was a grin that didn't quite reach her slitted eyes. It was the same smile Jack had been pinned with during their first meeting, distrustful and polite. "If that's the case, since you guys are looking for some real racing, has Mo'Ona registered yet?"
"Ah, one of the gatekeepers. He has flight logs with the Twist Lane, oh… about an hour behind yours. Beyond that, I can't say, race rules and all." Lix nodded at the attendant's words before glancing at Jack. It hadn't passed her notice how he had deferred the lead to her, here where all eyes were on the racers themselves. The way he stuck by her side, didn't interrupt or talk over her, or speak first when Andrus had greeted them, and how he'd checked the pod for her spoke volumes of his support. With a crew like this… Of course, the man decided to take that exact moment to open his mouth. Mercifully his normal cocky accent was gone, replaced with a friendly lilt that made one want to talk.
"Are crew members allowed in that pilot's lounge?" Jack tilted his head just a tad, imitating Etmerian body language. The effect was subtle, but there, as Andrus began to relax his stiff posture.
"Oh, no sir, unfortunately. There is a separate recreational area for crew, my apologies for any inconvenience." Andrus' ears drooped ever so slightly, which was the most body language the canine had allowed thus far. Jack simply shrugged, his cybernetics clicking as they moved.
"Ah, like you said. Us plebeians, am I right?" Lix rolled her eyes at the Human, her mouth opening to rib the man, before the dark expanse of the rail systems opened out over a yawning gap to reveal a sizable hollow within the Racer's Heart. Below them stretched an artificial lake ringed with gleaming architecture and winding pathways of faux stone. Interspersed between the towers of black and gold were splotches of green, wavering trees, their branches reaching high towards powerful lights that shimmered with artificial sunlight. Through the roof, massive tubes vibrated with some manner of high-pressure substance, hidden by the powerful gleam of the sun lights. It was a picture-perfect paradise centered in the dreadnaught's belly. A place for the most wealthy of passengers to enjoy their time aboard in the lap of luxury.
"Now that is pretty, regardless if I can't afford to even visit it." Lix mumbled, twisting awkwardly to look out the viewport, her tail having nowhere to go but Jack's lap. More and more often, Jack had noticed the Kux'lar stealing a touch here or a brush there. Every time, he'd chalked it up to her species needing an innate sense of contact, like he'd read on the net. He found his hand idly tracing the scales that covered the long, thin appendage's tip, glancing up to Lix's cheeky grin as his stare shifted from the window to his face. Her pilot's suit crinkled as she turned to she could see both the beautiful vista, and the Human who had a hold of her tail.
"So," Jack began, clearing his throat. "Since ya seem to have some interest in my captain making it alive to the races, what is the playin' field like?" Heat rose in the Human's neck as that sinuous tail wrapped around his wrist but… didn't quite make it to his cheeks. Andrus tilted his head in thought, the Etmerian's big, brown eyes searching the pod for answers.
"Well, it's been several years since a dark horse racer placed in a qualifying position, much less first, in a preliminary race. This is all public knowledge, mind you." Andrus was quick to add, a furry hand rising in a warding gesture. "Now, the last was Harken Lan, a Human. He didn't make it to the first race, if you catch my meaning. Now, this final preliminary… it will be hosting over four hundred racers, and only twenty will move on to the final run. The real racers, the known names, they already qualify, and most have sponsors who bet heavily. Be very careful, Captain Lixistruzsias, the easiest way to beat a racer is to ensure they don't race at all."
"You go into that captain only lounge, you'll be at risk of windin' up with a knife in ya." Jack breathed, Andrus shaking his head.
"Quite the contrary, sir. The Racer's Heart holds a strict nonviolence policy. Now the same can't be said outside her hull, but within, your captain is most safe." A tension fell across the attendant, his tail twitching with an errant need to tuck between his legs. Jack didn't seem to care that they were pushing their host a tad too far however, the man leaning on his knees as Lix continued to gaze at the luxurious scenery below the zooming pod.
"But I can't watch her back in there."
"You cannot, unfortunately. It is one of many reasons the…" Andrus paused, gauging his next words. "Less established pilots avoid the place." Andrus turned to Lix with a frown. "You would be alone among avid and established racers who have very much formed alliances."
"And what would you suggest?" Lix asked, her eyes locked on the ant sized comers and goers slowly weaving their way through the trees and gleaming buildings of the VIP sector. "Would it be worth it to show face? Ask around and see who my competition is?" Andrus sniffed at the question.
"'Twould be a show, at the very least, and would allow you to put faces to the ships your rivals would be flying, but I doubt they'd even speak to you. Showing weakness is no more than blood in the water, and wandering the lesser seen areas of the Heart would be far more risky than waltzing into one of the most monitored areas as a show of force, methinks."
"Anything else seems kinda… cowardly." The Kux'lar churred in her throat, tilting her head as she grimaced. "To not show up because it's dangerous. So is racing, by a large margin."
"Asteroids don't stab ya in the tail either. That place will be full of limp necked twats lookin' to make the race easier for themselves or just look down on ya. 'Sides, I bet most of 'em are easily searchable on the net." Jack huffed, twisting his neck until it popped. "And," The man added, frowning deep. "Like the guy said, most pro'lly got friends in there. You don't, no one to watch said tail." He squeezed the appendage for emphasis. "Trust me, I get wanting a face-to-face knuckle dragger, but these guys seem the type to bring a gun to a fist fight."
"They are," Lix hissed, turning to her side and kicking her legs idly. "I know it's emotion speaking before logic… I just feel like I'm running away or hiding."
"Or ignoring." The mechanic's voice had fallen into a hard tone. His eyes, usually playful, bored into Lix like twin drills. "Buncha pencil necked stick jockeys more concerned with stacking the deck than flying fair. Ain't no sense stickin' your head up that far outta cover. I get it, but time and place." The wind that previously bulged Lix's sails promptly died, her nostrils flaring as she huffed.
"Once again," Andrus narrowed his eyes, glaring at the Human. "I must emphasize that the captain will be safe within the walls of the Racer's Heart."
"I'll think about it, thank you." Lix tightened her hold on Jack's wrist, her tail swirling up his arm as the pod increased in speed now that the showboating for the VIPs had passed. The rest of the trip was made in silence, the Kux'lar's scaly lips twisting in a distasteful grimace the more she thought about not showing up to the captain's lounge to show face. Already these entrenched pilots and their sponsors had tried to off her because they had to actually fly for once.
Memories of sitting with her father in those viewing bubble stations just like the ones outside the Heart, watching the racers of old zoom by, filled the lizard's mind as she imagined herself flying in their number. Not even the slowing of the pod could pull her from her reverie, only Jack's squeezing metal hands could shatter the trip down memory lane. How dearly Lix missed her father, how fervently she wished he could be here to see her race…
"Oi, you good?" Jack's voice was soft and tinged with genuine worry. It was a care that fed a blooming seed in the racer's chest that was slowly flowering into something she couldn't quite place. All the same, she nodded with a smile.
"Yeah just… wishing my Da was here, is all."
"Ah, gotcha."
Andrus rose as the pod crawled to a stop, stepping out onto a concourse no less gaudy than the docks they'd left, his paw pointing to a directory on the far wall.
"If the captain would be so kind as to take her newest crewmate to registry? Afterwards, please enjoy all the Racer's Heart has to offer until your transport vessel has been refueled with only the purest deuterium-helium three fuel the galaxy has to offer. I would highly suggest siphoning a good amount into the No Safety Measures before the race."
And with that, their guide had exhausted his allotted social interaction for the day. Andrus tail stopped wagging, and the Etmerian proceeded to take up station next to the pod in a silent vigil, awaiting their return. Left to their own devices, Lix and Jack were faced with the monumental task of following directions.
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"Registration… lllllleft." Lix growled, her muzzle snapping left as Jack pointed right.
"Direction is relative in space."
"Oh, is that so? Just remember, bolts loosen relatively to the left and tighten relatively to the right." Lix couldn't help but snicker as the duo turned relatively to the left, Jack grinning behind her.
"Nah, you can just pull 'em straight out with a little heat."
"Super wheeeat! And vat grown meat!" Against her own will, Lix found her melodic voice bouncing off the shining walls as she sang bits and pieces of the Meelk jingle in the worst place possible; In front of other people, her tail swinging joyfully to the beat. Alas, she was in too deep to stop now. "Add a little water and then some heat, it's Meelk!"
"Where did that come from?"
"It's catchy, okay?"
"It's not, but you do you, boo." Jack chuckled, catching the Kux'lar's swinging tail with a metallic hand. He would only slightly judge her for being corrupted by the hyper corporate jingle. Soon, their respective boots and paws brought them to the surprisingly tiny registration office, the small three by three cubicle ran by a simple AI booth boasting no more than a screen, a speaker, and a camera lens. Its unfeeling, robotic voice barked once it recognized that they weren't leaving.
"Captain Lixistruxias, pilot of the No Safety Measures, please state new registry!"
"Hey there Reggy." Lix pat the boxy frame, smiling into the camera before turning to the confused Human behind her. "This is Reggy, he registers all 'Roid Racers and their crew. The line for the first preliminary took days. We drew numbers."
"Hey Reggy." Jack waved, not expecting anything more from the rudimentary AI that fixed him with a twisting lens. A flash nearly blinded him, his eyes squinting as afterimages assaulted his vision. "Piece of shit!"
"Thank you Reggy! Geoff-"
"That'd be Jack, Captain Jack of the Gerthtrude, mechanic for the No Safety Measures." Lix blinked as a heavy hand fell on her shoulder, silencing her. Questions danced in her eyes as her scaly muzzle turned up to look at him but all he offered in return was that same crooked smile she'd come to know. Reggy whirred, his systems clicking, before the disconcerting noise coalesced into a mechanical crescendo.
"Thank you for registering! Next!" And that was that, Jack turning to the empty space next to him.
"Your turn."
"Stop it. Reggy is doing his best. Anyway, if the league found out you were working on the No Safety without registering, I'd be disqualified."
"Why is that?" The duo returned to the directory, Jack still rubbing the stars from his eyes, only with the tip of Lix's tail that he had refused to release.
"It's just one of the rules. I couldn't tell you why exactly. I'd say it's to keep racers honest, but it wouldn't be hard to circumvent that." It would have been as easy as registering one mechanic while secreting another, more skilled wrench jockey under the cover of darkness. But then, why not just register the secret squirrel crewmate? The only reason that came to mind would be that some higher end specialists wouldn't be able to leave their shops and would require the racer to make a trip between every race. But then… what was stopping them from doing just that anyway?
"A blacklist system." Jack suddenly said. "It's gonna keep out certain crew y'all's organizers don't want in the run." That… made sense. Lix hissed, her jaws snapping at the air in disdain as yet more layers of political jockeying made itself apparent when all she wanted to do was race. A bump to her shoulder pulled her from her reverie. "You heading up to that captain's lounge to show off your tail or whatever?"
"Ah… yeah… what are you gonna do? Head to the crew lounge?" Jack waggled his head to and fro at the question, his eyes uncertain.
"Maybe… Might head back to the Gerthtrude and fuel up the No Safety Measures from the auxiliary tanks. I'll figure it out." An uncomfortable silence filled the space between the two as Lix slowly turned towards the hallway that led towards the captain's lounge, a place Jack wouldn't find himself allowed, much less welcome.
"Well uh… guess I'll… see you later?" Lix felt a strange pang of… unease at the notion of being apart from the Human, a thought that brought a purple blush to the spaces between her face scales. She'd only known the man for a few days yet here she was unwilling to be apart from him. Even the Kux'lar, social species that they were, didn't grow so close to someone in so short a time.
She wanted him to hold her tail again…
"See ya later, lizard." Jack turned with a wave that broke her thoughts, the Kux'lar lifting an unseen claw towards his back as Jack turned and walked away.
***
Lix found herself clucking in her throat until the man turned the corner, vanishing down the luxurious hallways away from the captain's lounge and towards an elevator that would take him towards a less decorated deck that held recreational areas for crewmates. A part of her wanted to say damn it all and follow him. After all, she knew she'd probably feel more at home with the less well-to-do crowd he was headed for than the legendary dive that was her destination.
Victory Lane, it was called, where only the best of the best went to drink and make merry. Some of the best racers in the galaxy, both living and dead, had graced the stools and benches in that lounge, had tasted the booze and five star chef meals, and talked shop over who would and wouldn't stand with them at the end of it all or wind up as just another cloud of debris somewhere out on the racetrack. Lix found herself shivering, as if cold, as she made her way towards a long, sweeping stairwell leading high towards the bar's entrance. Two heavily armed guards nodded at her passing, their helmets scanning her, most likely to log her entrance.
"Captain," The largest started, a Human under all that armor and gear if Lix were to guess. "As one of the racers who placed within the top thirty contestants of the previous preliminary, you qualify access to this most elite of establishments. Welcome to Victory Lane. All drinks are complimentary but be advised, any violence will be met with expulsion and a lifetime ban. If you have need of security, please don't hesitate to seek us out."
"Thanks big guy." Lix flicked her tail as she passed, the man nodding once more. Victory Lane's entry way stood tall and proud, the gleaming steel displaying scenes of sleek asteroid racers dancing around floating rocks while dodging deadly fire from their rivals, each one a testament to the time-tested desire for speed and danger. Lix took a long moment to let her eyes wander from each painstakingly painted edifice, dedicating the sight to memory, before taking her first step over the motion sensor line on the floor.
This was the first time she'd been allowed inside… Many had called her previous win a fluke, a one time occurrence. She knew those same voices would deny that her claws had any right to grace these floors, to drink among the giants that called these walls home.
Lix didn't care one bit.
She had expected heads to turn at her arrival, eyes full of vitriol or disdain, but what she hadn't expected… was absolute dismissal. Victory Lane was a circular affair, the bar itself an expansive counter in the middle that wrapped around a cold well boasting every drink one might desire, with gorgeously crafted automatons zooming to and fro as they filled orders with rapid succession. Massive overhead holoscreens scrolled galactic news and race stats, all ignored, as well as the current music and, most importantly, the betting pool.
It was this that garnered most attention, Lix's fang filled jaw dropping as she saw the sheer number of Roarks being tossed around. Her own name was displayed prominently near the top, a flashing PENDING imposed next to it. The sight made her gut freeze as she padded deeper into the dark and smoky room, her eyes adjusting to the gloom.
The walls were lined with privacy booths, all holding faces she recognized. Geetz McMelan, Captain of the Star Arrow, two-time champion of the Lits Run, sipped from a sparkling glass of cider as multiple women from all manner of species hung off his Human form. Further down, the tall, feathered form of the avian master pilot Ak'tak Gultian, the first 'Roid Racer to thread the Huliun Gap in the Alen Run, a series of catacomb shortcuts through an ancient asteroid that shaved twenty minutes off a lap, sat still and staring.
Lix was wading between legends, and not a single one gave a damn that she was there.
That, more than anything… enraged her. She had beat their lapdogs and gatekeepers fair and square, on her own merit as a pilot, to the degree that someone had sent said goons to try and kill her! The least they could do was look her in the eye! A bump on her leg startled her from her reverie, her head snapping down at the offending touch.
She knew the face.
Mo'Ona.
He was a tiny little creature, a Hux if she recalled correctly. They were an industrial people, visually a cross between a lizard and a rat, only coming up to her hip. His long, thin muzzle was split in a sleezy grin that exposed needle like fangs.
"Liiiix! Glad to see you made it!" He wheezed, his little paws wringing over each other as his tail curled around his booted ankle.
"The feeling isn't mutual. Where's your buddy? Ters?"
"Oh," Mo'Ona waved a hand, scoffing. "Please, I know what happened. That fat gunship you were hiding in would have eaten me alive."
"You were one to always cut and run." Lix huffed, hesitatingly following the little rat man towards the bar.
"It's the nature of the game, I'm just playing it best I can." Mo'Ona grunted as he leaped onto a stool, his little legs flailing as he struggled into the seat. "Me? I'm just tryin' to survive after pissing off just about everyone in this room." A snicker left his muzzle, dozens of little whiskers trembling as he covered them with grimy paws.
"Nooooo, you? Piss people off?" Lix smirked as she easily slid into the stool next to him, her eyes glancing across the room at another VIP booth. Telmond Grouse, a four time champion and pilot of the Event Horizon sat alone and brooding, staring at the overhead holoscreens. Once again she felt just how surrounded by pillars of the racing community she was, and how… out of place she felt among them. Not even the gentle music that danced between the rising plumes of cigar smoke could ease her nerves, the twisting columns stretching to the ceiling like ghostly fingers of dead racers. The tension that had formed in the Kux'lar's gut only grew, heavy and solid, like a greasy meal that was slowly starting to disagree with her digestive track.
"I know right? Who could hate this face?" Mo'Ona pulled Lix back from her thoughts, the Hux blinking large and vulnerable as he ordered from a touch pad built into the bar. He had to stand on his stool to reach it. "How do ya like ya drink?"
"With someone who isn't you."
"Suit ya self! Look, I was tryin' ta get in good with Ters. Now he's dead. So I'm switchin' gears to try and make myself useful to ya. Two bits of advice? Get guns on that sharp little arrowhead of yours, and two, see that holoscreen up there? The one with your name on it and all the bets?" Lix nodded, her eyes trailing up to gaze at her title, the bright red PENDING still flashing over her slot. "That pending sign means the bets for ya are comin' and goin' so fast that the system can't keep up. Yous a literal dark horse in this preliminary, and I can tell you it's because you survived the under-the-table bounty, and you brought in that new mechanic with his fat gunship that took down Ters. There's vids all over the net of the battle, from yours truly, I might add! Makin' a pretty Roark off the royalties!" The Hux snickered again, squealing as his drink, a fizzy little ensemble, finally arrived via a robotic bartender. "No one can pin ya, and that makes ya a threat."
Lix huffed, but nodded, her own claws dancing over a touch pad as she decided a drink was exactly what she needed to calm her nerves…
These racers, these giants… no cared that she was here except the faceless betters. The real people, the ones behind the flight sticks… they just couldn't care less that she had earned a spot in Victory Lane… but then, had she? She'd show them.
She'd show them all.
***
Whistling was a bit of a cultural art form for starship mechanics. At its most basic, it passed the time and, if you were working in groups, let others know if you were still conscious in the depths of an engine bay or under some crawlspace where no one could see you. Over the years, learning to bounce a tune off a bulkhead and harmonize with your own whistle become something of an unsung mark of passage for wrench slingers, as a good whistler had put enough time into the craft to, usually, become a good mechanic in turn.
Such was the tune Jack was currently wafting off the walls as he waltzed right on past the crew lounge he'd told Lix he was headed for. The notes swirled together to form an undulating, if haunting, melody. Deeper his boots took him, beyond where guests, racers, and their secondaries wandered. No one had told him he couldn't, and while he endured the strange looks from Racer's Heart staff, none moved to stop him. Directories led him to another elevator, this one far less spectacular, devoid of the glittering filigree and magnificent artwork that had spotted the hull so far. This was the domain of working folk.
Leaning against the wall, and giving the camera tucked into the roof a grin, he tapped the indicator for B25, engine bay. A grin, manic and wide, split his face as the lift descended into the bowels of the Heart, his boots vibrating right along with the floor. The hatches opened to controlled chaos, workers zooming about the halls lit by soft orange overheads. None spared him a glance except a pair of security guards manning the very elevator he was using.
"No racers or racing crew beyond any door with red stripes, feel free to enjoy exploring or looking out designated viewports." The closest one ordered, Jack nodding his head as he tipped a non-existent hat.
"Wouldn't dream of digging into proprietary secrets now! Even if they look real juicy." Jack's grin only grew as he turned to slide passed them, avoiding a rushing apprentice in a heavy jumpsuit laden with tools. Half of them made Jack's mouth water with greed, each one boasting a quality he hadn't seen in years. Far better than the make-do's he had in the Gerthtrude. What he would do for just the set in that guy's pockets… But no, he was here for a reason, one that required that he not linger.
Jack's seemingly wandering gait carried him listlessly as his eyes followed the signs towards the engine bay overlook, a weightless sensation of disconnection whirling his mind into a foggy mess. Staff did their best to avoid the man as he made slow but steady progress through the halls, flitting from junction to junction, until he came to a long throughfare with a single side entirely dedicated to showing off the enigmatic engine room. Breath hitched in the man's throat as he stopped just short of the see through glass, resting a steel alloy hand upon the wall. It took several false starts before Jack found himself finally pulling his unwilling body out far enough to see the leviathan of vibrating power below.
As with most things proprietary, the gist of the machinery was hidden behind splendidly painted plating, but much of the glowing tubes and pulsing chambers hidden inside massive egg-shaped holds was visible to curious onlookers. The tech within, all powered by mass produced antimatter, was supposedly cutting-edge stuff cooked up by the best genius brainiacs the council could find. Uncaring of those around him, of who saw, Jack leaned against the glass… and smiled. It was a cold affair, razor thin, and angry. His whispered voice sliced through clenched teeth with the vitriol usually reserved for parents grieving a murdered child, his eyes wild with shivering rage.
And yet… Jack had to withhold the loathing that attempted to crawl up his throat with claws of burning oil and seething hatred.
"God… damn you all… God damn every one of you."
***
Lix returned to the Gerthtrude bleary eyed but filled to the brim with boiling determination. It was there that she found Jack, sitting upon the on ramp of the No Safety Measures secured within the transport's belly, a refueling hose hooked up to her side. The Human nodded at her entry, grinning that familiar crooked leer of his.
"Hey there handbag, how was the winner's circle?"
"Boring, you smelly monkey." Lix returned the man's grin with one of her own, plopping down next to him with a tired sigh to lean on his shoulder. "Tomorrow is our first race together…"
"Yup. I'll be riding shotgun. You just leave power distribution and in-flight tweaks or repairs to me." A cold metal hand reached out to grasp the Kux'lar's shoulder opposite shoulder in a chaste hug, strangely warm and comforting despite the frigid metallic surface. "Now, y'all go get some sleep. I'll finish up and head to bed myself." Lix nodded, pressing her nose to his neck in a Kux'lar goodbye before rising to her paws with a hesitation that brought a blush to her muzzle.
There were words on the tip of her tongue that she bit back. 'Come with me. There's room enough.' Several steps took her away from the man, from his scent. It had been less than a week since she'd met him… 'Your bed is so much softer and roomier, I'll fly better with the sleep I'll get there.' Another step, more distance, less scent… less mind fog… 'I'd sleep even better with you in it.' It made no sense. No one got so close to someone so quickly. Lix shook her head before snarling, stomping her way up the on ramp and into the depths of the No Safety Measures as Jack looked on with a raised eyebrow.
"G'night, you overgrown wallet!"
"Gnah!"
"Guess not…"
***
Sleep came easier to Lix than the Kux'lar had expected, her night dreamless and soothing. An alarm pulled the lizard straight from the light slumber, excited and giddy, already primed and ready for the big day the moment its shrill tone began to blare. She didn't even need to dress, as the raptor had slipped into her flight suit, complete with neck clamps for her emergency helmet should the need arise, before going to bed.
With a snap of her jaws, Lix made quick way to the cockpit, eager to start preflight checks and begin spooling up the myriad of drives and systems, ready to make way to the starting line and queue for her spot in the final preliminary race. Twentieth, Lix would start in the twentieth position after coming in first in the previous preliminary race, jumping up a whopping thirty starting positions. It was a rocky slot however, as only the first twenty to cross this particular finish line would be going on the real races. The last twenty racers who had won championships were pre-qualified, bringing the number of 'Roid Racers in a legitimate league run up to forty. Most saw only half survive. She couldn't lose even one spot…
Lix was so engrossed in her excitement that the moment she turned, she found her nose smacking into Jack's chest, the man clad in his heavy EVA suit laden with sealable pockets and a raised chest display feeding him data.
"Hey baby, so happy to see me?" He grinned, the smile faltering as Lix leaped into his arms.
"Today's the freaking day Jack! I'm gonna burst!" The man scrambled to catch the reptile, her tail flagging wildly as she screeched a predatory roar directly into his ear.
"Ow. But good, I was worried you would be all nerves an' shit." He grinned, holding her aloft. "Ready to fly cap'n. All systems were soft checked last night and she's good to lift." Gently, he set her back down and plopped himself into the small one seat compartment behind the pilot's chair. No more than an area for a passenger to put their ass. It would do just fine for a flight mechanic who might need to quickly get to and from areas of the ship. Lix couldn't help herself, she covered her muzzle with her clawed hands and proceeded to tippy-tap her paws right in front of him, only ceasing when he waved her towards the pilot's seat like an errant fly.
"Okay okay, oh my gosh, hoo!" Flinging her head, Lix triggered up the comms channel for the Racer's Heart flight control, the Gerthtrude's cargo bay opening like a grand reveal to release the sleek racer into the wide-open plains where she belonged. Jack found himself tuning most of it out, his trusty data pad feeding him all manner of info as he watched the No Safety Measures fire up completely and lift for the first time.
He winced, knowing there would be superficial burn marks to clean later, but the Gerthtrude was a military transport vessel built for just such abuse. Finally, the No Safety was back into the void of space, free to fly as she was meant to, eager to take her place among the masses slowly congregating near the starting line. Even though he knew how many hopefuls were looking to make it big in the Asteroid Racing League, it still boggled Jack's mind to see the sheer roiling sea of ships merging at the glimmering yellow starting strip projected by two massive drones.
Even from this yawning distance one could make out the slavering, mind shattered fans in the atmo-bubbles near the starting line, surrounded by holoscreens from more drones set at myriad points around the 'track', roiling within their stands, eager to see racers smash themselves upon the rocks like sailors of old in the fog.
Over four hundred souls vibrated in the lineup, most with no hope in the stars of seeing the finish line within the required twenty, only here for the experience of a 'roid run. But not the No Safety Measures, she passed them all, taking her rightful place at the back of the pack of real racers. Each one was a mechanical marvel, brimming with power and armaments, each one looking to use the other as a stepping stone to glory and speed.
Lix found herself grinning, a smile full of fangs and desire and eager pleasure. Just being here was a check on her list of dreams, something she'd told her father she'd do and now she was here. Jack matched her leer behind her, slapping the pilot's seat with a chuckle. Lix's tail searched for his leg, the thick, scaly appendage looking akin to a large red snake as it fed through the hole in the back of her chair.
An hour passed with no ease in the tension. Teeth stayed clenched, legs remained tight, and eyes blinked only when they became dry, until the comms panel blinked with an all-channels broadcast. The first alert hadn't even finished before Lix smacked the receive button, bringing the beautiful picture of Glorious Angela to grace the viewport.
"Saaaaalutations all!" The woman started, her voice just as eager as the racers felt. "I can't express how excited I am for this final, final, preliminary run before the official start of the Asteroid Racing League! You, who have put your heart and soul into making it this far, are on the cusp of glory and greatness!" She paused to let the mindless, roaring crowd scream and holler, their voices pipped across the waves for every racer to hear. "But we all know only the best can be considered worthy of weaving tapestries between the unforgiving asteroids floating in the void of space. Today, twenty of you will earn that honor, and move on to become official 'Roid Racers! But I know you all didn't come here today to listen to me chatter on, oh no, you came to see these brave souls fly!" More cheering… more time where Jack and Lix felt their hearts hammering in their chests.
Glorious Angela smiled warmly, looking left and right, to and fro, as if over the crowd itself, before raising a red flag crossed with gold.
It was as if the cosmos itself paused to hold its breath, four little words and a descending flag later… chaos would envelope the stars. Over four hundred racing vessels hummed with power, each one preparing to spool their drives on Angela's command, ready to slam into overdrive and race through rock, fire, and each other. Each one burning with the dreams and desires of their pilots as the stars faded and all that lied before them was the track.
"RACERS…
START
YOUR
ENGINES!"