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[Cainhurst Crow]

"Alone? You're going back beyond the veil alone?" Essul asked in surprise, calling the quarians homeworld as his own people knew it, the system hidden beyond the perseus veil. No one who ever went anywhere near there ever managed to come back, at least not alive that is. Essul still remembered the historical archives of the batarians preparing a full-scale assault of the veil when the council's ambassador ship was destroyed, nearly 300 years ago, after it tried to make contact with the geth.

 

"There has to be a way someone can go with you. Or some means of contact when you get there. At least to so the geth, or might not...to keep you alive..." He finally said, struggling to come up with the right terms. He was an optomist, but he knew very well the reality of the situation, "...It wouldn't help, would it? Sending someone else as well...it's an entire world and system of geth...what could even a dozen people do against those odds?" He asked rhetorically, knowing the answers,

 

"No matter what...it'd be all in the fate's hands...." Essul looked to faed as he walked towards faed, "If all we can do is leave it in the hands of others...then there's no point in worrying, is there?" He asked faed, hoping the question would draw his attention away as he explained himself. "You, being you, allowed this to happen...allowed you and legion to become closer then any two beings could...be yourself, and trust in others. That's all anyone can ask of you..."

 

Essul brought a hand up and pointed his thumb towards his own chest, giving a knowing smile as he patted his shoulder one final time before he let faed go, "Take it from the so called "good batarian". Your a good person at heart, faed. Trust in your heart, and have some faith in others...you'll be the best damn quarian those geth have ever known..." He said before finishing with giving the man a thumbs up.

 

Essul didn't know much about motivational speaking, but if he learned anything from the various authorized media and somewhat less authorized serials of the human race, it was that this sort of speaking usually did the trick...he hoped.

 

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Vayne let out a sigh as he wiped some of the sweat from his crest, nodding as he put together the last of his information digging. He had little else to do on the ship that he felt comfortable doing now, so much of it feeling like a waste of time when a proverbial noose stayed tied around his neck. With his contacts and knowledge, along with VERA's nearly disturbing abilities to search, siphon, sort through, and manipulate data through the extranet and the Janiri's own files, they had put together a pretty good idea of what was happening on Garvug.

 

"Security forces are pushing from here...and hailot's forces are mostly doing fast terrorist attacks on their ships. Meanwhile, the blood pack's black guard are pushing in Dhazil. Slayt is there, along with a few of his captains....and thing's are as big a cluster **** as the day he left..." He commented, noting that things had gone back and forth through the security forces, but turned into a deadlock of back and forth retaliation.

 

"What we did find out though, is that the Black Guard's not the only one operating out there. There's also a couple of others, such as Death Claw, the Vorcha led group who does a lot of the common infantry scouting, along with air support surprisngly. The Forsworn, a group of mostly council races like turians, humans, and a few batarians, doing recon and tech work and supplying the bloodpack with its logistics. And Finally, the Hammer of Dawn chapter of the blood pack...led by Ganar Shinaga, Slayt's own daughter..." He said as he found one off the pictures of her leading her unit into battle.

 

"One of my contacts has connections to her unit...if we can pull this off VERA, I might be able to convince her to help end this hunt on my head. Rumor has it she's a lot less crazy then her old man. Though she's also supposed to be a piece of work in her own right...either way, it's the best shot I've got besides going in guns a blazing and hoping I make it out alive..."

 

With that said and done, he got to work with VERA, sending out a lead through text to try and get his contact to help out. All that was left to do was sit back and wait for a bite.

 

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Sanctum

 

"You've been having me analyze and analyze, but I'm telling you the truth. From what I've seen, the sonic vibrations are merely stage one of indoctrination. A precursor to alter a persons perceptions and allow for more direct means of influence, nanomachines from what I've gathered..." Ren'Danna said as she presented her findings to her boss, smiling beneath her environmental suit as she continued to go in depth, "The vibrations actually prep the brain to accept signals from the machines, as well as creates the network needed for the machines to interact with the brain at all. One is useless without the other, but it is when these two factors are combined together, that we see a truly terrifying relationship form. A parasitic relationship, if you would, between invasive nanites and a host..."

 

"So....how successful were any of the treatments?" Machaera asked as he leaned forward, interlocking his hands as he stared intently at her findings. The good doctors work was astounding, give her access to the right data and a few test subjects from the local mines, and it seemed she could work wonders.

 

"Preventative measures were surprisingly successful. The nanites cannot survive in a climate that doesn't do well to shield them from damage, such as extreme heat or cold. However, the nanites ability to replicate via absorbing molecules from the surrounding area is troubling, as has their seeming steps taken to survive termination. Regardless, a pulse of electromagnetic radiation is all that's needed to knock them out when they're not introduced into the body. Additionally, the machines were not airborne, nor contractible through inhilation as previously theorized. Instead, the method is simple. They have to be introduced to the blood, either through open wounds, or being absorbed through skin contact over a period of hours. The notes your people did before their decidedly lax amount of protections are quite fascinating."

 

"Ren'Danna...I believe your losing focus on what we're talking about..." Machaera said, his voice cutting off her train of thought as he motioned his hand for her to continued, "Can these nanites be removed, or destroyed, once inside a host?"

 

"Oh...yes, of course. The nanites can of course be destroyed inside of a persons body. However, the effects were not ideal. Symptoms such as extreme fatigue, nausea and vomiting, extreme muscle pain, and anemia were observed, as well as a significant drop in the immune systems ability to fight infection. I believe they were similar to the archaic cancer treatments, Chemotherapy I believe the term was. Regardless, the nanites were shut down after that, but the effects lingered after their termination. Subjects reported phantom voices, though the messages were much more gibberish then they had been before, much more in line with common schizophrenia. They also suffered liver and kidney damage from the nanites still circulating in their blood streams, some even suffering blood clots from them. Damaged motor functions and balance were reportered as well..."

 

Ren'Danna finished her report by looking Machaera in the eyes, "So to answer your question...the answer is the same as everything else in life. Possible, if your willing to pay the price for it..." She said as she walked over, past the few barrels marked as "Medical Waste", the remains of the now heavily cremated test subjects she used, "As it stands though, they'd be better off dead once they've already been exposed to these nanites...they really are interesting to study."

 

Machaera watched her approach, sitting in his rather comfortable leather chair as he rapped his fingers on his desk. The late captain narom certainly had some exotic tastes for how he wanted things run here. "And the chip in my brain...did it have to do with these nanites?"

 

"Most likely, yes. I've studied cybernetics for years...mastered their mechanisms and learned their limitations...but that interface chip in the back of your neck. The same one that neutralizes your pain receptors...it's a work of art compared to mine..." She admitted as she stared at it, somewhat hungerly at that, "I'd have been more shocked if it wasn't related to these...protheans of protheans. They allow a responsiveness and instantaneous transmission unlike anything I've seen before. Their ability to work with organic and synthetic material equally as well...it seems they were based on the conversion work of these nanites as well. Only reversed...a synthetic component, being made to function like an organic piece..." She reached towards it, to which machaera quickly reached up to grab her outstretched arm.

 

"Do not...touch me." He said simply, letting go of her arm as she rubbed it silently, glaring a bit at the batarian as she crossed her arms.

 

"Quite the attitude you have to the person who saved your life, twice now..." She commented as she strode back towards the front of his desk, "Don't forget, I found the inhibitor and the enhancer chips attached to that impressive relay unit of yours. And, designed the jammer program to keep you still thinking for you."

 

"....My apologies..." Machaera said as he ran a hand along his forehead, "This news...it's implications are a lot to take in. The risk of exposure was less then what we intiially thought. But it's of little doubt that there is a number of officers who have been compromised. I cannot challegne them, much as i would love to. And they will no doubt control the armies of this war..."

 

"You mentioned that a few days ago...about preparing for war. Is that what those new guns were for? The experimental models?" Ren'Danna asked curiously as she remembered Yron helping to hand them out and test them the other day.

 

"Precisely..." Machaera said as he brought his hands together to lock under his chin, "War is coming...the council has all but garunteed it with their actions. They may deny it, as will the hegemony, but it's already in the air. Fleets are mobilizing, defenses are raising, and covert operations are being hatched....My people are going to go to war with the galaxy...and if we use the one thing we have in our arsenal that could give us an edge...it could doom us all..." Machaera said as he looked down towards the table.

 

"We need more then what we have...enough to strike at more then just humanity...we need the means to crush them. To break them utterly...enough forces to occupy them...and weed out any of the dissenters..." Machaera said as he raised a brow, closing his eyes as he thought long and hard, "We...I, need an army capable of doing things the hegemony cannot...but how? How can I build an army that I can control?"

 

Ren'Danna had to blink in surprise, this was honestly the most she'd seen her boss talk about his plans in some time. And he sounded almost worried as well. 'Note to self, check machaera's scanning results to make sure no nanites are in his blood...'; She thought to herself, growing bored and wishing to return to her lab. She always felt most comfortable in a lab.

 

"Who knows? Where does anyone get an army in this day and age?" She asked as she turned to leave. All was silent as she left, but then she heard it as she turned the corner, someone shooting up and a loud clatter, followed by a scream of joy she recognized as the crazy batarians. 'Guess he figured it out...' she thought, looking forward to see what crazy plan he had for their group.

 

This was more fun then she'd ever had in her life. And she looked forward to seeing where this crazy path would lead.

[sH0tgUn jUliA]

Faed 

 

He blinked at Essul. “It was assumed that we would return in a ship not of Geth design.” Legion-Faed said. “We have access codes which we will transmit upon entering Geth Space. We will be recognized as Geth.”

 

Faed-Legion took a deep breath, but let it out slowly. “Essul, I have nearly died once,” he said. “But look around the ship. No one knows how to take me. While they’re polite, they’re very reserved. I’m the person with two people inside: one of those people was part of an enemy race.

 

“It’s like you. People look at you and see Batarian and what some terrorist group has done lately. They don’t see you for what you’ve done here. But they’re polite. The way I see it, people like you and me have to stick together,” he said. “I guess what I mean is that I’d like to be your friend.

 

“So you don’t need to try ‘motivational speeches’,” Faed-Legion continued. “Legion told me that it had to go to the Consensus. I got the feeling that I was along for the ride. I hope I get to address the Consensus. I don’t know what will become of me afterward. At least if I die, I’ll die on my homeworld.”

 

Legion took over the Faed again. “We do not believe that we will be terminated after we download our data,” It said in a flat tone. “Previous special assignment programs have not been terminated upon completion of their mission parameters.”

 

“What happened to them?” Faed-Legion asked.

 

“The programs were downloaded onto central servers,” Legion-Faed replied. “Please note: Removal of this program from this platform will result in termination of the program. Our nano-clusters have embedded in the physical structure of the organic platform making such removal impossible.”

 

“So, we will survive?”

 

“That is correct.”

[Kel Riever]

Armali Raceway

Rea smirked.  "My assignment specifically prevents me from involving myself in events like this.  Protocol and all.  Besides, at this late stage, the official check in would take a person right up to the race.  No time to prep or anything.  Whisp's jetbike is advanced technology."

"I've raced it," one of the sisters said, "She should let me be her SO."

"Oh," another sister challenged, "Are you talking about how you wrecked last time you were out on her race bike?  How much did that cost?"

"Shut up."

There was some laughter, but one of the sisters also placed a comforting hand on the shoulder of the one eager to race.

Drasteya was the only one who was calm as she listened.  She swirled her wine around in the glass as she thought.  "Your human rider would already be checked in, having raced in another event."  She glanced sideways, then while she didn't have an Omni-tool, Drasteya activated a com and screen built into the arm of her chair.  Naleena's information with Irina's contact information was transferred.  Then Drasteya made a call.

Down on the raceway, Longbow was talking to her chief, and the maiden standing next to her as the replacement for Divine was eager, but her nervousness was showing.  Longbow did have an Omni-tool, a requirement for any racer.  When she got her mother's call, she picked up privately, Drasteya's voice unable to be heard by the others as it came only through the mic in the pilot's ear.

"You're serious.  That racer?"  Longbow looked at her chief, who didn't know what she was talking about, but saw Longbow's eyes and knew she was onto something. 

Longbow's voice couldn't hide the thrill. "Well, send that b*tch down here immediately!"


 

 

[sH0tgUn jUliA]

Cascian Racing had broke down their rig and moved out of the pit area for the main event. An electric cart entered the area.

 

Irina was still in her racing leathers and had just ordered a couple of bottled waters when two Asari in coveralls wearing Longbow's official passes walked up the steps and approached her. The one who seemed to be in charge had a purple facial tattoo. She squatted next to Irina. "May we speak, privately?"

 

Irina leaned over. "Is there a problem?"

 

"Actually there is, but you're not the cause. My name is Janezi. Would you please come with us. Longbow would like to speak with you," she said with an urgent look in her eyes.

 

Irina turned to Jenus. "Excuse me a moment," she said and walked over with the two. "So what's this about? Isn't Longbow out of the race?"

 

"Not necessarily," Janezi replied

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Come with us and speak to her," Janezi replied and handed Irina her helmet, "And you may need this."

 

Irina turned to Jenus with a confused look on her face. "Looks like the day isn't over. I don't know what's going on, but I'll find out. See you later."

 

Irina left with the Asari.

[Kel Riever]

When Irina was brought into the garage she'd been in earlier, it didn't seem like much had changed from the layout.  But somehow, she felt something had changed a lot.  There were two asari there, one was longbow.  The other was not Divine.  Janezi and the partner who'd come to pick up Irina took their leave, and the silence remaining only added to the sense of the charge in the air.

The asari Irina was unfamiliar with was clearly older.  She wore a set of dark glasses and made no attempt to conceal the once-over she was giving Irina.

Longbow's eyes were different too.  Hard.  Calculating.  The pilot stepped up to Irina with her hands held behind her back.

"You want to race on a real bike, Sloane?"

[sH0tgUn jUliA]

Irina picked up a message on her omni-tool on her way to the garage. It was from Naleena. 

 

"I'm in the Iallis VIP Box. Saw your flame out. You almost had her. Divine is ill and in the hospital. I gave them your name. You might receive a call from Longbow to race in the main event. She needs a substitute rider. Good luck. - Naleena."

 

Now she understood what this was about. Irina felt the change in the garage. Something definitely had happened. Something wrong. Longbow was holding herself together. Longbow approached her with a hard, calculating look in her eyes.

 

"You want to race on a real bike, Sloane?"

 

Irina took a look at the Starscreamer, then back at Longbow. "I got a message from my boss about Divine. I hope she's alright," she said. "You tell me what to do. And let's win this thing for her."

[Redbelle]

 

...

 

"Because.... We don't know what to do with you. Your one of us. But not one of us. All we now have are each other. Another one of us means we are not as alone as we once were and our reach is greater. On the other hand, you are a reminder as to what we once were. What we lost. And what we can never return too. We are sisters through our bond Anika. And unlike us, you now know that you are not alone. And you know what that place we were raised in was. So why don't you tell me, and be honest... What do you want"?

"I want to go".

 

"No".

 

"Then why offer a choice? You've shown me you can tell me what you want... And you know I won't be able to resist you. So why all this? Why not just tell me to join you and be done with it"?

 

"A solider without free will is an abomination. A shell instilled with the will of another. Slow to act. Slow to react. Unable to function on the battlefield in a way that can be deemed effective. If I controlled you I would have to keep on controlling you. I would become your keeper. Always needing to keep you by my side. Neither of us could live that way".

 

"So you want me to accept going with you? On my own"?

 

"Yes".

 

"No"!

 

The figure sighed. "Think about the consequences of your choice...".

 

"If you stick your friends out there on me, you'll be short a few minions before the day is out".

 

"Yes... But I did not come here to threaten you but to warn you".

 

"Warn me"?

 

"The man who wanted us created will have noticed you by now, as we did. He will want you back".

 

"What man"?

 

"The man who wanted desired the power to change the human body. To create what he considers and what nature dictates is a perfect human. We were never intended to be perfect. We were lab rats. They changed us, just to see if they could. What effects the changes would result in. They pushed the technology of gene resequencing with us so that when their true subject was ready they could alter her with the data we provided on how to do so. It was all part of the project...".

 

"Project"?

 

"The Miranda Project. With a man called Henry Lawson paying the bills. He is not a good man. And he will want his property back. If you go back to your comrades, you will place them in danger".

[sH0tgUn jUliA]

The Normandy; Omega; other filler

 

After eliminating the Collectors from their base, the team Shepard assembled disbanded. Later, Commander Shepard while pursuing leads on the Reapers, took a shuttle and met Admiral Anderson in a bar on Omega where she was apprehended by several Alliance operatives including Lt. James Vega. Shepard was brought to Vancouver where she was put in a military prison awaiting court martial and a trial.

 

This left Lt. Cmdr. Miranda Lawson in command of the Cerberus vessel SR2 Normandy, and the choir boy, Lt. Jacob Taylor as her XO. Joker stayed on because the Alliance wasn’t too friendly toward Cerberus. And EDI had nowhere else to go.

 

The Illusive Man had assigned Miranda and Jacob to take a team of Cerberus scientists, led by Drs. Gavin Archer and Bryn Cole back to the Collector Base to recover technology. There would be several large transports sent through the Omega 4 Relay. General Petrovsky would be providing military cover with a small fleet should anyone decide to interfere.

 

Aria was not happy with Cerberus intrusion on her territory, but the large corporate presence made Omega an unlikely target. Nor was she happy about the presence of the Asari cruiser Cybean in the system. Apparently Matriarch Alestia had requested it to offset Ashland’s paramilitary presence. However with the major players focusing on each other, her contraband business went on as usual while the station was being built into a new configuration. Aria’s interests focused more on the control of the station once the construction was completed; something the new players had not counted on.

[Terca]

(By Popular demand_{by Frank}; Some Deidrus)

 

In some back-country bar on some god-forsaken sh*te-hole station near the terminal arms of the... Terminus, the word 'seedy' had to be taken with a grain of salt.

 

With the word 'seed' slapped onto the word like the greasy remains of a patrons handprint on an underpaid Omega stripper's behind, one might mistake 'seedy' for the sort of adjective which means good things. Or Pomegranates. The bar was neither. Or a particularly terrible seed-fruit.

 

See the point we're getting at with this expanded metaphor is that seeds are the root of life and in this establishment the balance of life and death was rigged. The leverage? Alcohol.

At least that's what Deidrus thought it was. You normally don't get this many variations of the term 'unsettling' wandering around without some sort of swill. Some of them had lopsided jaws, other seemed to be lacking them, others looked like they had attempted (and failed) to pierce their eyelids with all manner of screws, nails, and other metallic refuse.

 

Which brings us back to that good old fashioned beer-squeezed-from-a-wash-rag. The Turian politely declined the drink it since the fact that these people could consume it without immediate hemorrhaging out of their eyes wasn't actual proof it didn't contain some obscene poison.

 

I mean, look at it. Pale green with something which had the frightening properties of both being a mold (indicated by the small growths coming off the top of it) and a foam floating atop it. And it died regularly, turning back and sinking to the bottom before some more of the bacterial refuse decided to set up shop in the smokey air of the bar.

 

He was long past worrying about its protein structure, and had come all the way around to wondering whether or not it was a chemical reaction or some sort of demon mushroom which was doing the entire 'live, burn to death in air, sink rinse, repeat' thing. It certainly was enthralling to watch. Or gross, depending on your take on glasses which are about at half capacity of water.

 

And this was supposed to be such an easy hit too! Go to some station, find someone that had made the cardinal mistake of making the council mad. Which was a polite way of saying that at some point during an escapade between the Asari counselor and Aria the latter had made it clear that someone just outside of her reach needed to be dealt with that was super totally obviously a threat to the galaxy at large. Duh.

 

And then Tevos jotted down a name or something and then returned to whatever riveting thing was going on before. The jokes about these exchanges were somewhat in-depth and Deidrus considered it a bit unprofessional to consider them. That and he was a prude. Mostly he's a prude.

 

So a Salarian (poor bastards just seemed to love getting roasted recently) needed to be dealt with. But it was in this bar of death and destruction where he was pretty sure someone had been literally executed by being beat to death with his own arm how metal is that holy hell. He was going to bide his time on this one. He was a professional, and aside from feeling like the tactical destruction of the entire block would be a boon to galactic society, he wasn't tempted to do anything too rash.

[Kel Riever]

Irina's lessons from the Cascians took on a whole new meaning with Longbow and the 'Mark Five' bike.  And how deep their experience had run.

Divine was all right.  She'd make it, after her insides were turned out and evacuated.  That would take a week.  Nobody on the team thought it was an accident, and even the doctor had said, "I can't prove there was a foreign substance in her system because it would be the kind of chemical that gets rid of itself."  So even he didn't leave a doubt.

Still, it didn't sit well with Longbow.  And it came through in the conversation, which was terse and didn't let up as Irina was experiencing a whole new definition for 'racing uniform' as well.

"There's none of that drafting stuff you did on your bike," Longbow said as Irina stood naked in what looked like a vertical medical chamber.  She'd been told what would happen but she had the feeling that nothing would be quite like actually experiencing it.  "At Fifteen-thousand force kilograms on average of thrust leaving the engines, we'll wreck from flow or light up.  If directly behind, I'll stay at least 3 bike lengths back.  The sweet spot we're looking for is just under the forward bike, with the thrust firing above us."

There was a catheter attached to Irina, the external part of which was unceremoniously stuck on to the skin with adhesive.  This was the part of the suits at the pro-level no one liked to talk about much, and was no fun putting on.  A chime sounded in the chamber and small jets began spraying Irina from the neck down.  Bit by bit, her body was covered in a semi-translucent white fluid that became more opaque as the spraying continued.

"Your helmet is up to par, but being programmed as we speak to give you what we call full three-sixty, which means you will see through the hull of the bike at will as if it wasn't there.  Still, and even despite training, the instinct of bipedals like asari, turians, salarians and humans is not to try to look at things below and behind them, which is why that's where we need to be.  How well you consume visual data is only as good as where you look with your natural eyes"

"Impact synthetic and static electric transfer surface application complete," whatever VI was running the chamber said in a pleasant voice.  "You may step out of the chamber and don your outer suit."

Irina was toe to neck covered in a white chemical layer that made her feel as naked as when she didn't have any of it on at all.  She knew that it could be stripped off in layers, but that wouldn't happen until the race was done.  The covering had two purposes.  One was that the material expanded in phenomenal geometric degrees on impact, the kind of stratosphere technology that saved lives on impact, along with a personal force shield emitted from the belt she'd put on with her outer racing suit.  It was a sort of kinetic one shot high tech armor, or maybe more of an air bag put all over her body.  That was the idea at least.  The second purpose was that the entire surface of her body was now a set of circuits for electricity to pass through.  Apparently the number of wires on the bike were as few as possible.  Most electricity was passed through surfaces, including the surfaces of the riders, and the suit served that function (as well as providing the wearer insulation).

"Terms, Irina.  'The Tube', that's what we want to stay inside of.  It's the course.  We leave it and we're losing, or worse, we're crashing.  Sometimes it is hard, like when we pass through the mountain tunnel, or by the hard light shields on Turn One.  But even in the open air, we stay in the tube, which will be show on your heads up display.  You know this from your prior race but I'm talking about it because the Tube is going to get extremely crowded with all of us pros trying to get the perfect line.  I want you to keep that steel of yours I saw on the course in those moments.  Don't worry about the proximity of the other racers.  I'll need you to keep feeding me information."

Longbow met Irina as she stepped out of the chamber and took her over to what would be her racing suit fabricator.  Longbow invited her to pick some sort of uniform that would represent her, only cautioning that some of it would be covered in sponsor holographs.  "Speaking of information, you talk.  I fly, but you are my senses, eyes, ears, and mind reader.  I need you to do what you did when you raced, talk to me like you are the pilot, what you see, the threats, all of it.  Quiet is the only mistake you can make, I'll tell you if I don't need to hear something.  In doubles, we do not speak with the pit, except for thirty seconds before the lap line and thirty seconds after. Then we're cut off.  So all assessments, engineering, which way the wind is blowing, who's moving up, who's in the lead, it comes from you."

A sigh came from Longbow then.  The belt Irina would wear with her outfit was sitting on a table and the pilot picked it up before handing it to her.  "There are three racers on this team that could have replaced Divine.  I chose none of them in front of you, Irina, because there's something I saw that you have, an edge, a sense.  You strike me as the kind of person who might run hot once in a while.  If that's the case, it isn't going to help us here.  At the same time, that kind of fire, controlled, is what keeps us on the precipice, on the brink which is where we need to be.  Your mouth won't be able to keep up with what your brain processes and your brain might not keep up with every little sense that gets sent to it.  So it is instinct, sometimes pure id, that sorts what is needed and puts it back through your lips so I can hear those beautiful words that will give me just what I need to slip past the competition.

"It'll change you, this race.  Every race has been changing me for decades.  You'll be different when we're done.  You are a risk, Irina, but the kind of risk I like to take.  While I'm putting all on the line by having you as my S.O., there's not one other person I'd rather be sharing this experience with." 

[sH0tgUn jUliA]

Irina listened as Longbow explained what she was to do. She winced when the catheter was inserted, but she understood that 200 laps around the 5 km circuit was a lot different than 50, and the Mark Five was 50% faster than her bike. This race would test the endurance and reflexes of the riders and the soundness bikes. There was no room for error.

 

She would have to be alert the entire race, aware of her surroundings all around her, just like she was in a jungle having to be alert for trip wires below, and snipers above as well as just feeling things coming in from behind. But the helmet seemed to insulate her from the outside world as did the spray suit. She realized the spray suit was necessary for survival.

 

It would take her a few laps to become velocitized  to where her mind ran at the speed of the race. She knew this – It’s like when Jenus and I sped around Duellos for about 5 minutes then slowed to 60 kph entering town and it felt like we could get off the bike and walk, she remembered. This would be no different. She would adapt.

 

However, being Longbow’s senses, being co-pilot, being Marcus, fell on her.

 

Irina took the belt from Longbow and put it around her waist. “To say I’m nervous would be an understatement, but I’ll give you the best I’ve got,” she said. “I raced on Duellos by instinct and simply being better than my competition. That earlier event was a pipe dream. Alisa Cascian called my bike a pile of crap, and in the end, she was right. But against the odds, I wanted to win.

 

“I spent hours studying vids of the racers in my event. I memorized the habits of the top seeds, what lines they liked. I looked for an edge. I think I bored my partner to death while I prepared. I’m going into this cold. Divine has all that information, and I have to learn it all on the job. But like I said, I’ll give you my best,” she looked up at Longbow. “She didn’t happen to pass on that information, did she?” 

[Kel Riever]

Longbow was flipping through the various motifs for the outer suits Irina could wear.  "Pick something that says you, by the way.  You're going to be shot by every video camera that can get an angle.  You're an outsider, a long shot, the news is going to want to get as much as they can on you so I'd make it look sharp."

Then what Irina asked caught up to Longbow and she turned.  "Pass on the information, who, Divine?  About the other racers?  There's too much to give you in too short a time.  Simple is the leaders of this race, as expected, will be Silver Specter and Terminatrix.  Eccentric, with her SO Meter, are our nearest competition in points and placement consistently.  But this is the pros.  Anything can happen.  You're going to have to rely on your raw, real time, judgement."

Leaning in, Longbow then added, "We're all primal on this course.  Beasts inside each of us.  We control it, yes, because at three times the speed of sound, and that's cruising speed, losing focus has a predictable, lethal result.  When it comes to the neck and neck, the envelope, when you see the air take shape around you, like it was solid, and you're burning, burning the core hot enough to cause a weapon mass explosion, there isn't one of these people who wouldn't try anything to win and you'll see the animals come out.  That there is no preparation for.  You've got to catch it in the instant, Irina, because it will come from the place you least expect it.  Like Divine today, out, nobody saw it coming.  And now you're it, the one, my sixth sense.  You don't need information for that.  You are that already and that's why I want you on my back."   

[sH0tgUn jUliA]

Mach 3 on a bike was faster than she thought it would be. But all in stride, right? Too late to back out now, Aussie pride and all that. Irina knew one thing. She'd either get them both killed or they'd win it. 

 

"Beasts I'm used to catching. Life or death struggles. I've fought in wars. There's planning, but once your boots hit the ground your instincts take over. You rely on your sixth sense. Use your gut feel to survive the carnage and come out alive," she said, and then added. "This can't be any worse than going toe to toe with a Krogan in blood rage.

 

"Red. Red leather or what ever material you use with gold panels on the calves, thighs, hips, and biceps. Red leather boots," she said and chose one that resembled the pattern in the early 2000s Ironman movies which she'd never seen. "If I'm going to attract attention, might as well go for it. Of course, I assume it'll have whoever your sponsors are plastered all over it? Not that anyone could actually read them at Mach 3."

[Cainhurst Crow]

Faed 

 

He blinked at Essul. “It was assumed that we would return in a ship not of Geth design.” Legion-Faed said. “We have access codes which we will transmit upon entering Geth Space. We will be recognized as Geth.”

 

Faed-Legion took a deep breath, but let it out slowly. “Essul, I have nearly died once,” he said. “But look around the ship. No one knows how to take me. While they’re polite, they’re very reserved. I’m the person with two people inside: one of those people was part of an enemy race.

 

“It’s like you. People look at you and see Batarian and what some terrorist group has done lately. They don’t see you for what you’ve done here. But they’re polite. The way I see it, people like you and me have to stick together,” he said. “I guess what I mean is that I’d like to be your friend.

 

“So you don’t need to try ‘motivational speeches’,” Faed-Legion continued. “Legion told me that it had to go to the Consensus. I got the feeling that I was along for the ride. I hope I get to address the Consensus. I don’t know what will become of me afterward. At least if I die, I’ll die on my homeworld.”

 

Legion took over the Faed again. “We do not believe that we will be terminated after we download our data,” It said in a flat tone. “Previous special assignment programs have not been terminated upon completion of their mission parameters.”

 

“What happened to them?” Faed-Legion asked.

 

“The programs were downloaded onto central servers,” Legion-Faed replied. “Please note: Removal of this program from this platform will result in termination of the program. Our nano-clusters have embedded in the physical structure of the organic platform making such removal impossible.”

 

“So, we will survive?”

 

“That is correct.”

 

"A friend...." Essul said quietly, looking away slighlty as he mulled over the news. No death meant no threat, at least for what legion assumed. But could legions assumption be trusted? Even he himself assumed the best of his people, but knew the pain of having that trust betrayed.

 

But what faed said did have a certain ring to it. Certainly, it wasn't as if he had a lot of friends on the ship. Even if it was a bit odd, talking to Faed and Legion both.

 

"That's good to hear...Guess it's only a question of when you'll leave..." Essul said with a smile, nodding as he looked around, "...You know what? Let's head out of here. Check out some more sights to see. What do you say?"
 

[Terca]

S'more Deidrus

 

The Salarian was seated at a table a fair ways across the bar with two unflinching members of his guard. Two humans, neither of them particularly remarkable to Deidrus aside from the fact that one of them took a sip from his glass (or pretended to) and didn't immediately fall to the ground dead. Even if he hadn't ingested any of the drink he brought it close enough to his mouth that the Spectre was passably certain that a normal man would have lost some skin to radiation damage.

 

All that unpleasantness aside, the Turian was trying to figure out what exactly a reputable salarian was doing in a fine establishment such as this one. Weapons trading was hardly the lowest of brow'd activities, especially in the Terminus, so it hardly warranted rubbing shoulders with this sort of crowd. In fact, most people who moved weapons in to and out of the outer rim tended to be pompous. Having millions of credits tended to make people expect a certain level of company (unsurprising, really), and the fact that he was here at all was quite bizarre. 

 

The only logical reason was...

 

War.

 

Well, no, Deidrus didn't think that. He was a mite bit too stoic for that sort of drama. He was just waiting for the man who was going to be sitting on the other side of this terrible date so that he could place some bullets in soft areas and pick up any remains. And put them in baggies or something, whatever Spectres do in order to prove to the council that they have in fact successfully murdered a fine member of galactic society. Manual decapitation would seem like a good choice if not for the fact it was

• a. gross,
• b.  possibly a bit too old-fashioned, and
• c) if he dropped it the cockroaches might eat it before he got back to the Audron.

 

He could always just deal with the Salarian and be done with it. But he was thorough, and being thorough meant that it was probably in the galaxy's best interest if he also dealt with the partner. Unless they were completely innocent in all of this, but judging by the surroundings it seemed quite impossible that anyone here hadn't at least a first-class one-way-ticked into hell. Or, as the case might be, they were all already there. So either way, whoever the Salarian was due to meet with was going to have a very bad day.

 

And then a Krogan bowled right through Deidrus' table, knocking the beer mixture into the air with a great tumble, before it began falling back down to earth with a thick and heavy splosh. The liquid came damn close to actually coming in contact with the ceramic of the Spectre's armor, which momentarily forced the Turian to consider whether or not it would heave eaten through.

 

The possibility itself was quite disturbing.

 

More jarring, perhaps, was the fact that the roaming brawl that had been kicking up chairs and tables throughout the afternoon had managed to wrap its way all around the room and back to Deidrus. This meant that he was a fairly good candidate for their game of musical chairs, except when the fighting stopped people tended to be 'out' by blood loss.

 

Hence the ill-fashioned blade which grated against the neck brace of Deidrus' armor, giving him a really good reason to just get this entire stake-out ruse over with. Time to move over to plan B, the good old-fashioned scorched-earth approach to target removal. The sort that requires actual fire.

[Kel Riever]

Armali Raceway

Iole had gotten to the seats with Frank for 'the big race'. They were alongside Tallis (on the other side of Frank), Jenus and Ereba.  

"Not bad, Eli," was Jenus' only real comment to Frank.  She wasn't specific about what she was referring to, but Frank could guess.  And the odd compliment from Jenus was unusual enough to stand out.

"Look! Look!"  Tallis had jumped to her feet and was pointing to the main holoscreen showing events at the start of the race.  There, for all to behold was Longbow, right next to Irina in a red and gold racing suit.  The announcer was going on about the last minute decision for Longbow to replace her SO and the excitement wasn't only catching the Commandos with its charge, but several of the racing fans were turning to the screen, eyes locked on one of the most dramatic announcements of the race.  Of course Irina wasn't referred to as her real name.  Instead, the moniker 'Red' was being used, and put up in bold, angled font.

Jumping up next to Jenus, Iole put her fists in the air.  "Tear it up, Red!"

~ ~ ~ ~

Elsewhere, the other members of the Janiri's team were able to catch a glimpse of their familiar companion in the racing suit.  The race was inescapable if one was looking at any public viewscreen.  Even in the hotel rooms, where some of the visitors to Thessia were spending their time, it was noticeable if there was at least one screen on, or audio playing.  

~ ~ ~ ~

Down on the launch strip, Irina was crowded for a bit by camera drones, and a fusillade of questions from sports reporters so intense, it was difficult to even make out a question.  That didn't last long, however,  as apparently Longbow's chief had made arrangements for the team to appear just shy of the time all non-racing personnel needed to back off to designated areas.  That left only crew and the racers on the strip, and let Irina have her first contact experience with those she'd be competing with, and when she did, it felt like time had slowed down.

The pros were a different species of racer.  There was almost nothing said, but the eyes did all the talking.  Irina saw in them what Longbow talked about.  They were masters of their profession, taking everything in.  Those who Irina locked stares with sent chills through the spine.  There were no mocking insults, no jingoistic jabs, no snide comments.  These people didn't need to make them.  If anything, a pro who might not have thought Irina was up to snuff simply added what she thought to the calculus of her own race.  In fact, the pole pilot, Silver Specter, and her S.O. Archon, each gave a polite nod as they passed by.  When Terminatrix and Vison (her S.O.) passed, Terminatrix wished Irina and Longbow luck.  If anything, those two comments, while in one sense honorable, made it worse, sowing seeds of doubt with their simple, unfazed, demeanors.

"I wouldn't be surprised if those two took out Divine," Longbow said after Terminatrix and Vision passed by.  It was pure speculation of course, and Irina was sure that Longbow really had no idea who was responsible if they were.  But Irina understood that Longbow, too, knew that this race wasn't just happening at some surface layer of emotion.  It was everything to these people, down to their center.  "Come on, Red.  You're going to want your helmet on when everyone starts firing the engines."

And that was the last comment Longbow made before the two were to mount up on their Mark V.  Irina had, of course, been given the chance to get herself acclimated with one or two laps on the bike, but getting on still was like a new experience.  Longbow mounted first, laying virtually flat on her belly along the bike's 'seat'.  Irina got on next, practically lying on top of her.  That was the design, where Irina's belly was basically right above Longbow's ass, and a sort of ultralight sling kept her in contact with Longbow's back without actually resting her weight on the asari.  It was more comfortable than it looked, though whether it stayed that way half through the race was another matter entirely.  

Once in, the bike was almost closed around them.  The entire front canopy was lowered by crew over both riders, while the rear canopy was lowered to match it and click in place.  There was techically open air to either side, but not much, as the sides of the bike too closed in around them, to protect their legs in a streamlined way.  After that, the outer shields were activated, and Longbow and Red were in.  

Red and Longbow were in the eight position.  That seemed miles from Silver Specter in pole, but it was all perspective.  There were seventy racers behind the team.   By the time Irina was in, the track was singing in a chorus of top of the line eezo racing engines.  Of all the things Irina had heard in her life, even with the protective helmet on, it was one of the loudest sounds ever;  the kind of sound that didn't just get to the ears, but got felt through the body.  And it seemed to come from all around, like the world itself had become filled with angel's of vengeance and speed.  Yet it was beautiful at the low levels, harmonious.  

Irina knew all that would change once the thrusters were fired at high speed.

"All right, Red.  Here we go," Longbow said.  The heads up display in Irina's helmet began feeding information, and she watched as the bike's structure seemed to disappear around them.  Irina could pick up the scars on the launch strip beneath them.

There was a white chase drone that came from behind and above the riders.  When it passed Silver Specter, she started out, the line of seventy eight bikes following for the parade lap.
 

[sH0tgUn jUliA]

"Hey, Longbow. Nice and cozy in here," Irina said as she fastened her harness. A wreck at mach 3 and they think that spray suit is going to help? We're going faster than a f***ing bullet.

 

"Focus!" Longbow replied.

 

Longbow's scent was a little spicy while Red's was more like sandalwood and burnt amber, something Longbow would have to get used to in the closed quarters. Longbow's ass was something to behold. Irina knew that Jenus would give her crap about it for months.

 

Irina laughed. "A little humor to calm my nerves, alright?" she said and patted Longbow on her thigh as they sat waiting for the parade lap to start. "And you need to relax. I got your back. This reminds me, we never got our terminology squared away. Us Earthers still use the old analog clock system with our pilots. 12 is front; 3 is right; 9 is left; and 6 is behind; high is above; low is below. It keeps it simple and fast. So if I say bandit coming up on our 6, 3 high, you know there's a bike overtaking us on our right above us. Let me know if this works for you. I can adapt if it doesn't."

 

Longbow's helmet had a HUD connected via secure connection to a virtual interface that Irina controlled with her fingertips. The interface was self-contained in her gloves. Irina's HUD would show a selection of lines given by the VI and Irina, based upon current data would be able to choose an alternate to the standard line, and enter it by selecting it with her finger and squeezing her other hand. She unless Irina indicated otherwise, she would take her standard line. Standard for overtaking was outside and mid. But Irina had to watch for trouble and potential trouble and be quick about it. Distances to turns closed quickly, and there was strategy involved as well especially when it came to the leaders. Irina and Longbow at least had some time to go over this prior to the race during the warm up laps. 

[Cknarf]

At the shipyard...

 

In the middle of an expansive hangar originally designed to hold even the largest ships in the council’s fleet, sat the barely recognizable skeleton of the Vepr II. It had been almost completely stripped inside and out, in order to provide the techs with a clean slate.

 

“This appears to be the last of it, ma’am.” Spoke a young asari, presenting an overloaded utility cart to her superior.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“...” She looked back to the ship. “Yes ma’am.”

 

“Excellent. Put it with the rest of 'em." The higher-ranking asari thumbed over at the towering pile of weapons that had already been removed from the ship.

 

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

 

At the track...

 

The excitement, combined with the substantial amount of drugs in his system, caused Frank to appear a bit jittery. He ceased the foot tapping, and the one-by-one cracking of the knuckles on his left hand only after being addressed directly. He leaned forward in his seat a bit, glancing at Jenus with an unintentionally exaggerated raised eyebrow, before leaning back in his seat.

[Kel Riever]

Armali Raceway

"I don't understand the human systems that use twelves as measurements," Longbow said to Irina.  "You have ten fingers like us.  Why twelve numbers on your clocks?  Never mind, rhetorical, the system works fine.  Ours uses stars and goddess names, but I can convert to whatever makes you feel better.  We're going to hit the line, Red.  Watch the crown on the first turn."

Irina, having raced, knew what Longbow was referring to, and could imagine it only being more insane with the pros.  Turn 1 had a hard light barrier, which protected the series of hotel and other city buildings beginning about fifty meters behind it.  Anyone missing the turn would hit the barrier, and netting behind would catch any debris.  More importantly, it made the first turn of 'the tube' a physical one, and with the pack jostling for position, on the first lap, it would be the most dangerous of the race.

Longbow didn't seem so much to mind Irina's comments.  In fact, Irina felt Longbow seem to settle into the placements of their bodies.  Body language was going to be part of the communication, Irina predicted, and it made sense.  Shifting left or right sent a message far faster than saying so and already through the turns, Irina noticed longbow naturally leaning into the curves and direction of the Mark V. 

~ ~ ~ ~

The announcers voice added to the charge that was passing through the crowd at the Armali raceway as the bike's came through for the last of their parade lap for the start of the race.  The pack of jetbikes in formation could be seen again by the naked eye as it approached, and the asari were on their feet.  Excitement could be seen literally from the crowd dominated by biotic species, with a sort of blue aura emanating over the audience.  With the 'rolling' start, there was no sequence of red lamps that indicated the start.  Very much like any race in the galaxy, the moment the start line was crossed, the race was on.  And there was an asari official with a turquoise and violet banner ready to wave it as the traditional signal of the beginning of the event.

Iole didn't notice Frank's shakes, she was simply thrilled by everything around her, so much so that she couldn't stop jumping up and down.  It was a bit exceptional, given the contained thrill that many asari maintained, but she wasn't alone.  With the jet bikes getting closer, their sound could be heard, and the singing, chorus like sound of their engines was not just getting louder, but it was changing to a much more threatening sound that would soon crescendo to a scream.  Silver Specter was keeping the pack just below the speed of sound, as she wanted the pack to have to match one of her bike's advantages, a dominating acceleration. 

Tallis had been having a glass of wine, and Jenus kindly tugged a warning to her to put it safely to the arm of the rather luxurious seats everyone had, customized for certain speedway amenities like having a non spill pad that would hold cups to a place on their arms.  Tallis nodded, put her wineglass down, and many other asari did as well.  Given what was about to come, it made sense for anyone who hadn't witnessed the races before.  And if for some reason they weren't clear, Jenus then gave a verbal warning.

"Better get ready," Jenus laughed, "And keep your mouth a little open.  This is going to be loud!"

As the line approached, Silver Specter poured it on.  The turquoise and violet flag was waved, flipping in an elaborate, figure 8 pattern.  Each bike behind the leader, in turn, fired its engines to full, and the sound of 78 shrieking bikes drowned out nearly every other sound one could hear.  Just as the start line was crossed, as planned, Silver Specter and the bikes of the race, broke the sound barrier, sending off a barrage of sonic booms that beat against the heart and made teeth ring in vibration.  The asari in the crowd were cheering, fists raised in the air, a roar that was the only other audible volume of the moment, and only so between the shockwaves and the fusillade of booms.

Frank might have thought Iole could jump to space at that moment, she was so ecstatic.

 

[sH0tgUn jUliA]

Armali Raceway opened up the large track for this race: the 25 km circuit. The technical section beginning with turn 1 and ending with turn 6 remained the same and allowed for sub-sonic speeds only, but turn 7 opened up into a wide, gentle turn allowing the bikes to accelerate to their maximum speeds before hitting the main 10 km long straight. Turn 8 arrived all too soon and gently tightened into a short straight before heading back into turn 1.

 

It wasn’t the speed and providing data relating to other riders that was getting to Irina, it was the rate of how fast the track information was arriving, at times over 1 km per second, and she had to relay every detail to Longbow. Knowing about the crown in turn 1 she knew they wanted to come in low, and not get crowded out, but that meant taking a higher line on turn 8. But another rider was jockeying for position and trying to slip in above her.

 

“Bandit coming up 3 O’clock high,” Irina said as they powered half-way down the straight, and she gave her the outside line for turn 8 to block. “Then we’ll drop and take inside on turn 1.”

 

****
 

Naleena sat back in her recliner as the Iallis family was on the edge of their seats in the VIP box. This was not her first rodeo. She contacted VERA and had her contact her bookie and place a 10,000 CR bet on Longbow to place, and a 5,000 CR bet for her to win.
 

[Cknarf]

In the VIP area...

 

"Is something wrong?" Kira asked the previously talkative Mr. Taetrus.

 

The turian, sitting forward with his talons together, took a moment to respond.

 

"Things aren't going quite the way they were supposed to." He realized that his statement sounded suspect as f***, so he attempted to clear things up a bit. "I mean to say, this was very unexpected." He gestured at the running order, displayed nearby. "The sudden appearance of this human competitor."

 

"Does it bother you? Personally, I think it's great that someone of another species is participating in the event."

 

"No no, it's just..." Taetrus opened his omni-tool, and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I have a rather large sum of credits riding on this race."

[sH0tgUn jUliA]

Illium/Nos Astra

 

In a dark and dingy hideout with a single LED lamp hanging overhead, and a computer terminal, two armor clad Salarians held a Turian at the end of a Scorpion pistol.

 

"We're wasting our time here," Lt. Temor said. "Valern is keeping her location secret. We'll never find her."

 

"Wait. We just need one account match," Capt. Paral replied. "And do I need to remind you of what Esheel will do to us if we don't find her?"

 

"I don't like this. She's not part of the command structure, not since Valern's faction gained favor," Temor said.

 

Paral scoffed. "Valern... he can barely tie his shoes. Any idiot can see Esheel will become a Dalatrass in the next year. Valern will be out and anyone backing him will fall in line or be dead."

 

Arruvus stared at his terminal, doing his normal business while listening to the STG officers argue. "If I were you two, I'd find a new profession. I can hook you guys up."

 

"Shut up!" Temor shouted. "Unless you want your brains splattered on the wall."

 

"Did I say I wasn't cooperating? Look, I'm cooperating. I'm just saying. You know if you did that, you'd never get what you were looking for," Arruvus said, processing one transaction after another. 

 

"Why don't you have an automated system?" Paral asked.

 

"Because if I did, the government would trace these illegal transactions. I use an ancient system that's off the grid." Arruvus said. "You'll thank me for it later."

 

A large transaction came in from Vera Browning with Naleena's account number. Arruvus' system tagged it. "And here you go. Naleena T'sarius. 20000 CR. Bank of Illium."

 

"She's here?" Paral asked.

 

"I didn't say that."

 

"Then where is she?" Temor aimed his Scorpion at Arruvus.

 

Arruvus turned and held his hands up. "Whoa whoa.... I never said I could locate her. You never asked me about that. You just asked me if I could tag an incoming transaction. I said yes. I tagged it. I did exactly what you asked me to do. I cooperated with you guys."

 

"I told you this was a waste," Temor said. "But what should we do with him? He could alert her."

 

"How the f*** can I alert her if I don't know where the f*** she is?" Arruvus asked. "She never contacts me directly. Always uses some b*tch named Vera Browning lately. On a lark I hired some Asari PI to trace her a couple years back. She came back with nothing. 'It's probably an alias,' she said. Before that it was Carina. Now I gave you what you asked for."

 

"Who was the PI?" Temor asked.

 

"Nyxeris," he replied. "Works for a Liara T'soni, why?"

 

Temor tapped his omni-tool. "T'soni checks out. Nyxeris had license and... she's dead. Someone killed her a year ago. Case was never solved. Strange..., about six months ago the police reported a break in the case, and then there was a break into the NAPD forensic building and all the evidence was stolen. Asari incompetence."

 

Paral read the Turian and sighed. "Come on. Let's go," he said, then waved his gun in Arruvus' face. "But if we find out you weren't straight with us, we'll be back and we won't be so friendly next time."

 

Paral and Temor left. Arruvus went back to processing transactions. Ten minutes later Arruvus typed on his computer. 

 

"To: Vera Browning

 

Two STG agents Capt. Paral and Lt. Temor stopped by looking for T'sarius. Esheel has a death warrant out. Warn her."

[Kel Riever]

Armali Raceway

"Bandit?  All right, if that's what you call them."  Longbow was accelerating, and the list of information being given by the onboard VI scrolled past Irina on her HUD at barely readable speed.  There were other bikes closing in, not moving ahead, but getting closer to the Mark V.  Longbow spared a second to glance at the dark blue gloss jetbike with red trim Irina had pointed out. "That's Gallant.  We'll use her."

Irina could feel the eezo engine beneath them, and the thrust it was putting out.  They had pushed beyond the speed of sound, and the other nearby bikes, including Gallant, were trying to get an edge on the inside line, but Longbow was moving ahead too fast to prevent them.  The turn was getting closer, its hard light bank showing not only 'the Tube' but protecting the series of skyscrapers beyond with its barrier.  As a group, the Armali team and its competitors were closing on the 6th and 7th place bikes to the point they would either catch their thrust or have to slip out to a less efficient position.

Suddenly, it seemed that all the competing bikes with Longbow and Irina started working together.  With none able to catch the pefect line to pass those ahead of them, or each other, they closed ranks.  At well beyond the speed of sound, Irina watched as three other jetbikes moved within a meter, alongside the left, and the right, as well as below, and as if flying in a planned, perfect formation, the pack went into the turn.  Irina understood.  None of the bikes could get the perfect line.  Longbow was forced to share part of the line, but also held one of the two ideal positions.  The two other bikes would still be close.  As they hit the turn, directional thrusters activated and every ounce of aerodynamic technology went into effect as the four pulled a supersonic, nearly one-hundred and eighty degree turn.  The combined wall of thrust they fired out put distance on the sixty seven other bikes behind them as well. 

Irina could feel the forces of gravity on her, but mass effect compensators made taking the turn possible.  She couldn't see Gallant or her S.O.'s expression behind their helmets, but she was close enough to at least see them in their bike.  The S.O. on Gallant's bike turned her head to see Irina, and somehow, Irina knew she approved.  Then they were out of the turn, Longbow and Gallant neck and neck, the other two bikes beneath, but somewhat behind themselves now.

Thrust poured from the Mark V again.  The bit of an S turn jog was coming up and Longbow set her sights.  Neither Longbow or Gallant was close behind the bikes head, but they were now part of the eleven that had put distance on the rest, even though their ranking hadn't changed.  Longbow and Gallant shot through the S, each gaining the nose on each other for a minute before sliding back into the neck and neck.  Turn 3 was approaching, a sharp bend around a simple marker over the ocean, but after that, it was the corkscrew.  There was no room for a side by side in that, so an answer was going to have to come up, and fast, for how to get ahead on Gallant.
 

[sH0tgUn jUliA]

Three solutions appeared on Irina's HUD, none acceptable. All involved dropping back a position. She gave Longbow a red line. "Tap the AB (afterburner)," she said. "Trust me."

 

It was a little unorthodox, but Longbow tapped it and the line turned green as she shot ahead of of Gallant into the corkscrew. 

 

"Now ease up and let gravity slow us a bit for the drop. Then punch it," she said. "Here's your line into 5. I'm starting to feel them. The VI isn't always right. Gallant isn't giving up. She's right on our six. I don't think she liked that maneuver."

 

They went through five and came out high. "Perfect. Now stay here and go low on 6 and out mid-high for 7 and drop the hammer," Irina said while flashing lines onto Longbow's HUD. "We might move up a couple places in turn 8. The plan is to go outside before pulling in single file for turn 1. Who's in front of us on #22? They're real good."

 

*******

 

Iallis VIP Box

 

Naleena's omni-tool flashed and she tapped it. 

 

"Boss, 

 

Your bookie informed me that he received a visit from two STG agents looking for you. They were hired by a political queen, Esheel. Apparently she still holds a lot of power and wants you dead. The agents did not discover your location.

 

VERA"

[Kel Riever]

Longbow followed Irina's plan, and hit the corkscrew, which was a section of hard light track again.  At supersonic speeds, the maneuvers were surreal, with the VI compensating for much of the movement, though Longbow seemed to be quite in control.   Gallant was literally just out of the rear thruster blast range, following the same line.  Then there was the setup for Turn Five....

...Which wasn't so much the setup of a turn as a duck under a marker at the end of the corkscrew and a straight verticle climb.  Both riders had to use controlled breathing as even with all the mass compensation, anyone of lesser ability or not using the breathing technique would have blacked out.  Irina saw bikes ahead in the sky, their thrusters like blue stars.  Below were the chasing bikes, firing everything on full to push away from Thessia.  At the marker near the top was 'Turn 5', and the stars of thrusters seemed to get closer, until Longbow let up on the thrust. 

Vaulting skyward while rotating the bike, Longbow and the other racers floated just above the marker horizontally before firing the engines again and shooting across at high altitude.  Longbow took the moment to finally inform Irina that the rider directly ahead was Stormfront, and then going on about a few of the other racers beyond that.  But before she could finish, Irina saw they were approaching land again, in particular a mountain that wasn't on the course she'd flown.  There were lighted markers outlining the entrance to some sort of cave opening in the top side of the mountain and while she knew what was coming next, it was a whole different experience coming at a ten meter wide hole at their speed.

The engines from the lead bikes could be seen entering the cave.  Longbow pointed nose down, following the virtual outline of 'The Tube' provided by the VI, and dove towards the mountain.  But while the bike wanted to naturally pick up even more speed, Longbow was firing the reverse directional thrusters while opening the air brakes.  It was clear riders ahead and behind were doing the same.  And as the cave mouth approached, it got very crowded again.  Longbow was just barely outside the thrust trail of Stormfront, while Gallant caught just behind, and was in turn followed by another bike just behind her.

Into the cave they went, Longbow dropping the Mark V into a flat fall by firing the directional thrusters on the rear of the bike.  Irina could feel the stress on the bike as the body vibrated.  Plummeting through rock at speeds that would disintegrate, Turn 6 was an artificial tunnel through the mountain which would launch them horizontally again as they left.  Again, the feeling of blackness threatened to encroach on the edge of the eyes, but finally Irina could feel the directional shift and there was only an instant of daylight at the tunnel's end before they were blasting back into the illumination of Parnitha shining down onto them.

The turn was critical.  Stormfront and the bikes ahead had gained distance.  Meanwhile Gallant and the chasers had fallen behind.  Overall, the eleven bikes in the lead were a good amount ahead of the rest and they hadn't even finished the first lap.  Another part of the city was in front again, and another, very long hard light curve which was Turn 7 guided The Tube around and back out to sea.  Everyone was accelerating now.  With what was coming next, there was no need to slow down. 

Irina could feel the heat of the excitement from Longbow, though she said nothing.  The asari and the bike were one, with Irina included. 

"We're settling in, Red," Longbow said.  "We're settling in well."