Throttle Nineteen
“Smile and wave,” Diana muttered. “Or whatever the galactic equivalent is.”
The announcer, who unfortunately wasn’t the same high-energy person who had sportscasted the race, was speaking from a booth not too distant from the stage. This one sounded a lot more pompous.
The stage was a hovering platform, with hovering steps leading up to it from the backroom where they waited. There was a podium, with camera drones skittering around before it, and the entire arena of aliens were primed to cheer and shout as the winners were called up onto the stage. The entire stage was made of rusted parts. The machines that allowed it to hover were a patchwork of different models, and the main deck looked like it had been ripped off the side of a warship.
It fit the aesthetics of the race, Diana supposed.
There were aliens of a hundred species, there were strange devices, there was screaming from a section to the side where journalists were held back, but none of that weirded Diana out as much as seeing five places on the podium instead of three.
Diana and Ahvie were called in last, and she sauntered up to the podium, only slowing down so that Ahvie could jog up next to her. The little alien’s face was more blue than usual, and her ears were flattened back. Diana assumed that was how she showed embarrassment.
They climbed up to the top of the podium, and Diana grinned at the cameras. This wasn’t her favourite part of racing, but it was hardly the worst. Once, when she was younger, newer to the sport, she had revelled in the attention, but once her ego calmed down and she matured a little, she found that the pomp and ceremony was all rather boring.
The announcer prattled on, and a long-legged alien in a skimpy outfit stepped out, followed by even more aliens in equally strange garb. They had a few different races, including a mirian in what was essentially a bikini.
Diana had to work to keep her cocky grin from turning into an all-out laugh. Were these the sexy model babes who were ubiquitous at these kinds of events?
The others were given trophies, small ships on stands.
They cheered, some waving their trophies above their heads, others were a little more restrained. Krison accepted his with little more than a bob of his torso.
The largest, most ornate was handed to Ahvie by the mirian in the bikini, who then leaned in to give Ahvie a peck on the cheek.
The little alien nearly fainted.
Diana laughed, knelt down, then grabbed Ahvie and stood back up, the alien pressed into her side for a moment before she shifted Ahvie around and raised her over her head. Ahvie caught on, and lifted the trophy even higher up.
The crowd cheered, the camera drones fought for the best angles, and the reporters flung even more questions their way.
The announcer turned everyone’s attention to something else while Diana lowered Ahvie back down. “Had fun?” Diana asked.
“Ah, yes?” Ahvie said. “We really did win.”
“It took being in front of this big a crowd for it to sink in?” Diana asked.
“Sink in? Ah, yes, Ahvie guesses so.”
Diana nodded. That was fair enough. She looked over to the side, where the osel who had been guiding them around was directing the other winners off the podium and towards a place where they were being bombarded by questions from reporters. “Want to run off?” she asked.
“What?”
“Would you rather have a bunch of reporters scream stupid questions at you for an hour, or would you rather get back to your ship?” Diana asked.
Ahvie only took a split second to make up her mind. “Ahvie would rather be back in the Slow and Steady.”
“Then let’s get you back,” Diana said. She glanced around, then up. The floating stage with the podium was near the front of the arena, nearly over the edge. The space beneath it had lines of cables and wiring passing through it, and a few alien technicians were looking at feeds from the camera drones.
Diana grabbed Ahvie in a one-armed hug, stepped towards the edge of the stage, then hung onto the edge. “What are you doing?” Ahvie asked. She didn’t sound as afraid as Diana might have expected.
“It’s only a three metre drop,” Diana said. She jumped off the edge, using her grip on the side to slow herself down before she let go and landed in a crouch.
The technicians startled, but Diana paid them no mind. Instead she walked right through the nearest doorway and into a warren of cables.
“See, nice and easy. Now we just need to figure out how to get back to the station!”
Something crackled in her ear before ChaOS’s familiar voice intruded. “Mistress, are you causing trouble?”
“No,” Diana subvocalized.
“Mistress, what sort of trouble have you started?”
“Hey now, Ahvie and I just decided to head back to the station and our ships a bit early.”
There was a pause as ChaOS processed that. “I see. There are three shuttles currently en route to the arena that will be heading back to the station within the hour. I can arrange passage on any of those.”
“That sounds decent enough,” Diana said. “Do you have a map of the arena’s interior?” She trusted her sense of direction to eventually get her out of the passages under the stadium, but having a map was always better. One flickered into her mind, and she scanned it quickly, then charted a path to the landing pads at the rear of the arena. “Thanks. Ahvie, do you have anything you need to fetch while we’re down here?”
Ahvie shook her head. “Ahvie doesn’t. The Scrap Rocket will be disassembled once they’re done inspecting it. Ahvie isn’t sure if she would want it regardless.”
“Disassembled, huh?” Diana asked.
“It’s a way to prevent people from using parts that are very good. They’d lose them at the end of the race,” Ahvie explained.
Diana nodded along. Soon, they made their way down a staircase with bizarrely short steps, and out of a sliding door that led onto the landing area at the very back of the arena. They were only a hundred or so metres from where they had landed earlier.
ChaOS was kind enough to give her an ETA on when the next shuttles would arrive; they still had a good ten minutes to wait. Diana glanced around, determined to find a spot that was out of the sun and that would hide them from the inevitable search parties.
She found something better. A familiar face. More or less.
“Hey, Cynie!” Diana called out, one arm raised in greeting. Ahvie looked up to her, then followed her gaze to a nearby ship. It was a small starship, bulky and square, with a pair of VTOL nacelles on the side and a large open cargo hold in the middle, one door of which was partially opened. A young ktacha was standing there, her head rising up from a tablet to take in Diana and Ahvie as they moved closer.
“You!” the woman said. “You won the race.”
“Well yeah,” Diana said. “I told you I would, didn’t I?”
“Yes, and all you gave me for an interview were two lines and a boring joke,” the ktacha snapped. “It’s barely better than whatever those idiots in the stadium are catching now.”
“I have the feeling that’s not on me,” Diana said. “I also… wait, let me see… yep, I lack any remorse.”
Cynie stomped a foot down, tossed her tablet back into the ship, then started to fiddle with a device on her belt, which revealed itself to be a miniature camera drone. “We’re doing a proper interview, now, before those boneheads at Skull Crusher News get here and start wasting everyone’s time.”
Diana shook her head. “No no, I don’t just give things away to anyone for free.” she pointed to the ship. “Is that yours?”
Cynie looked at Diana, then up to the vessel. “It belongs to Rogue Racer Intergalactic,” she said. “Why?”
“That’s close enough. I’ll trade you. One quick ride up to one of the stations up in orbit, and you get an interview. A short one. One we’ll do en route.”
“That’s not the best place for an interview,” Cynie said. “And the trip is only a few minutes long.”
“I’m sure you can make it count.”
There was a clang as a door opened not too far off, and ChaOS stepped out, walking at a hurried pace that made the droid look a little silly. “Mistress, there are already officials looking for you, as well as reporters. Though it seems as though you have found one already.”
“Nah, what I found was a ticket out of here,” Diana said. “So, Cynie, what do you say? Your only chance to get an early interview with the galaxy’s greatest racer just moments after her debut. And one of the world’s best mechanics too.” She patted Ahvie on the head, giving into the temptation.
“…Fine. But you’ll answer all of my questions, alright?”
***
Throttle Nineteen
“Smile and wave,” Diana muttered. “Or whatever the galactic equivalent is.”
The announcer, who unfortunately wasn’t the same high-energy person who had sportscasted the race, was speaking from a booth not too distant from the stage. This one sounded a lot more pompous.
The stage was a hovering platform, with hovering steps leading up to it from the backroom where they waited. There was a podium, with camera drones skittering around before it, and the entire arena of aliens were primed to cheer and shout as the winners were called up onto the stage. The entire stage was made of rusted parts. The machines that allowed it to hover were a patchwork of different models, and the main deck looked like it had been ripped off the side of a warship.
It fit the aesthetics of the race, Diana supposed.
There were aliens of a hundred species, there were strange devices, there was screaming from a section to the side where journalists were held back, but none of that weirded Diana out as much as seeing five places on the podium instead of three.
Diana and Ahvie were called in last, and she sauntered up to the podium, only slowing down so that Ahvie could jog up next to her. The little alien’s face was more blue than usual, and her ears were flattened back. Diana assumed that was how she showed embarrassment.
They climbed up to the top of the podium, and Diana grinned at the cameras. This wasn’t her favourite part of racing, but it was hardly the worst. Once, when she was younger, newer to the sport, she had revelled in the attention, but once her ego calmed down and she matured a little, she found that the pomp and ceremony was all rather boring.
The announcer prattled on, and a long-legged alien in a skimpy outfit stepped out, followed by even more aliens in equally strange garb. They had a few different races, including a mirian in what was essentially a bikini.
Diana had to work to keep her cocky grin from turning into an all-out laugh. Were these the sexy model babes who were ubiquitous at these kinds of events?
The others were given trophies, small ships on stands.
They cheered, some waving their trophies above their heads, others were a little more restrained. Krison accepted his with little more than a bob of his torso.
The largest, most ornate was handed to Ahvie by the mirian in the bikini, who then leaned in to give Ahvie a peck on the cheek.
The little alien nearly fainted.
Diana laughed, knelt down, then grabbed Ahvie and stood back up, the alien pressed into her side for a moment before she shifted Ahvie around and raised her over her head. Ahvie caught on, and lifted the trophy even higher up.
The crowd cheered, the camera drones fought for the best angles, and the reporters flung even more questions their way.
The announcer turned everyone’s attention to something else while Diana lowered Ahvie back down. “Had fun?” Diana asked.
“Ah, yes?” Ahvie said. “We really did win.”
“It took being in front of this big a crowd for it to sink in?” Diana asked.
“Sink in? Ah, yes, Ahvie guesses so.”
Diana nodded. That was fair enough. She looked over to the side, where the osel who had been guiding them around was directing the other winners off the podium and towards a place where they were being bombarded by questions from reporters. “Want to run off?” she asked.
“What?”
“Would you rather have a bunch of reporters scream stupid questions at you for an hour, or would you rather get back to your ship?” Diana asked.
Ahvie only took a split second to make up her mind. “Ahvie would rather be back in the Slow and Steady.”
“Then let’s get you back,” Diana said. She glanced around, then up. The floating stage with the podium was near the front of the arena, nearly over the edge. The space beneath it had lines of cables and wiring passing through it, and a few alien technicians were looking at feeds from the camera drones.
Diana grabbed Ahvie in a one-armed hug, stepped towards the edge of the stage, then hung onto the edge. “What are you doing?” Ahvie asked. She didn’t sound as afraid as Diana might have expected.
“It’s only a three metre drop,” Diana said. She jumped off the edge, using her grip on the side to slow herself down before she let go and landed in a crouch.
The technicians startled, but Diana paid them no mind. Instead she walked right through the nearest doorway and into a warren of cables.
“See, nice and easy. Now we just need to figure out how to get back to the station!”
Something crackled in her ear before ChaOS’s familiar voice intruded. “Mistress, are you causing trouble?”
“No,” Diana subvocalized.
“Mistress, what sort of trouble have you started?”
“Hey now, Ahvie and I just decided to head back to the station and our ships a bit early.”
There was a pause as ChaOS processed that. “I see. There are three shuttles currently en route to the arena that will be heading back to the station within the hour. I can arrange passage on any of those.”
“That sounds decent enough,” Diana said. “Do you have a map of the arena’s interior?” She trusted her sense of direction to eventually get her out of the passages under the stadium, but having a map was always better. One flickered into her mind, and she scanned it quickly, then charted a path to the landing pads at the rear of the arena. “Thanks. Ahvie, do you have anything you need to fetch while we’re down here?”
Ahvie shook her head. “Ahvie doesn’t. The Scrap Rocket will be disassembled once they’re done inspecting it. Ahvie isn’t sure if she would want it regardless.”
“Disassembled, huh?” Diana asked.
“It’s a way to prevent people from using parts that are very good. They’d lose them at the end of the race,” Ahvie explained.
Diana nodded along. Soon, they made their way down a staircase with bizarrely short steps, and out of a sliding door that led onto the landing area at the very back of the arena. They were only a hundred or so metres from where they had landed earlier.
ChaOS was kind enough to give her an ETA on when the next shuttles would arrive; they still had a good ten minutes to wait. Diana glanced around, determined to find a spot that was out of the sun and that would hide them from the inevitable search parties.
She found something better. A familiar face. More or less.
“Hey, Cynie!” Diana called out, one arm raised in greeting. Ahvie looked up to her, then followed her gaze to a nearby ship. It was a small starship, bulky and square, with a pair of VTOL nacelles on the side and a large open cargo hold in the middle, one door of which was partially opened. A young ktacha was standing there, her head rising up from a tablet to take in Diana and Ahvie as they moved closer.
“You!” the woman said. “You won the race.”
“Well yeah,” Diana said. “I told you I would, didn’t I?”
“Yes, and all you gave me for an interview were two lines and a boring joke,” the ktacha snapped. “It’s barely better than whatever those idiots in the stadium are catching now.”
“I have the feeling that’s not on me,” Diana said. “I also… wait, let me see… yep, I lack any remorse.”
Cynie stomped a foot down, tossed her tablet back into the ship, then started to fiddle with a device on her belt, which revealed itself to be a miniature camera drone. “We’re doing a proper interview, now, before those boneheads at Skull Crusher News get here and start wasting everyone’s time.”
Diana shook her head. “No no, I don’t just give things away to anyone for free.” she pointed to the ship. “Is that yours?”
Cynie looked at Diana, then up to the vessel. “It belongs to Rogue Racer Intergalactic,” she said. “Why?”
“That’s close enough. I’ll trade you. One quick ride up to one of the stations up in orbit, and you get an interview. A short one. One we’ll do en route.”
“That’s not the best place for an interview,” Cynie said. “And the trip is only a few minutes long.”
“I’m sure you can make it count.”
There was a clang as a door opened not too far off, and ChaOS stepped out, walking at a hurried pace that made the droid look a little silly. “Mistress, there are already officials looking for you, as well as reporters. Though it seems as though you have found one already.”
“Nah, what I found was a ticket out of here,” Diana said. “So, Cynie, what do you say? Your only chance to get an early interview with the galaxy’s greatest racer just moments after her debut. And one of the world’s best mechanics too.” She patted Ahvie on the head, giving into the temptation.
“…Fine. But you’ll answer all of my questions, alright?”
***
