And now for more Galaxy of Sports!
Welcome back sportsfans! Today we'll be ending our broadcast with a special report from Syzutash space, following on the 8th Paragon Arin Firenz's "victory lap" from her first Wager.
And what a victory lap it's shaping up to be, Cacao; as she accepts the Human Polity's desire to Wager a faster reclamation of the Lyra system against zyr demands for a permanent embassy in the system.
Known for its scenic archipelagos and riot of cultures from the surface-dwelling Sytan, Zutan, Tatan, and Shatan peoples, as well as the subaquatic Tanshidan, the homeworld of the Syzutash Confederation, Ta, is the premier planet for those who wish to study or experience archaeological machine racing by land, air, and sea!"
"Indeed, Aqua, one could say their entire pre-space culture used to revolve entirely around racing."
"An unfortunate stereotype, Cacao, given the lesser-known yet vibrant culinary scene on the planet. We go live to Sc'kree Mac Ta D'dfu Hej'een Smith for a preview of this Ta-cycle's Grand Racecourse.
>Scene Transition<
"Hello Aqua! ... Cacao... For those of you who don't know, I'm Sc'kree Mac Ta D'dfu Hej'een Smith, standing here at the delta of one of Ta's most active shield volcanoes as the recently subsumed portions of the track are being re-printed in anticipation of the big event. Racers from across the galaxy have come here to settle their planets' grievances at one of the deadliest land race courses in the galaxy!"
"How deadly are we talking, Mac?"
"Well, Aqua, since the race was limited to only one hundred participants post-galactic integration, the record for the course's deadliness remains unchanged for the last four hundred Earth years, when a staggering 200% of racers died during the eruption known as the Grand Draw."
"How does one lose more than 100% of racers, Mac?"
"Well, they used to keep backup racers back then. Also, don't call me Mac, Cacao. Not after what you did at my wedding."
*
"Brake! Fucking brake!"
"I am braking!" Arin shouted.
CRASH
The holographic ground car dissolved around Arin as the simulator began its reset.
"Who the hell accelerates into a ninety-six-degree turn?" her instructor, a genderfluid and presently female-expressing impala demi-human named Vladislava practically shouted.
"Cats do!"
"You're driving a car, not a cat!"
"Who the hell races in ground cars?!"
The pair of them had been going at it like this practically from the first hour. Arin couldn't understand why Vlad - as she'd affectionately nicknamed the impala - didn't just let her customize the settings on the Syzutash Traditional Racer (TR) model to something that actually matched her instincts.
"The Syzutash Confederacy do! And if you don't learn how to drive standard, then the first time someone back-ends your settings, you're going to crash! Not that you seem to need it!"
"Then I just won't get hit!"
"Quit fucking dreaming!"
The Syzutash TR was... very traditional. Nobody drove ground cars anymore, but somehow the Syzutash kept the tradition of making them alive. And for the Grand Race, they absolutely insisted on everyone using the exact same model, with only approved modifications to ensure the same weight, thrust, and balance for every vehicle. Tuned to within nanometric accuracy. A degree of ensured equality rare in machine sports across the galaxy, but then again as a confederacy of five completely different sentient species who evolved on the same world, the obsession was warranted.
Unfortunately, that meant the design of the TR had changed very little. Every tendency and flaw was known - in the basic frame, the basic computer, and the basic stars-damned controls. One of those flaws was the tendency of customized settings to reset if the front of the car took more than a light tap, making turns deadly and straightaways vital for re-establishing customization in the roughly five-hour race.
"People!" Cherry shouted, her annoyance obvious from the control room. "Let's take a break."
"A break?" Vlad protested. "She has three days!"
Arin was already heading for the door, ignoring Cherry's attempts to ameliorate her instructor.
Outside of the simulator, Arin walked the now-familiar grounds of the LSR dome, heading for her favorite restaurant.
"Burger please."
"Medium-rare, crinkle-cut fries, sauces on the side?"
"You know it, Julian."
"That'll be 950."
"Bill it to the Polity."
The chef turned his back, smiling as he began to julienne the onions for their fate of being mashed under one of the waiting balls of ground beef. In short order, he was giving meal his all and Arin was left alone with her-
"Penny for your thoughts?" a woman's voice asked.
Arin turned to find Autumn Summers sitting next to her. "What's a penny?" Arin smiled wide.
"Some old coin. Like coppers in fantasy," Autumn smiled. "I think the point of the phrase was that I would pay you a penny to hear what you think."
"Call me a Polity girl, but I like my thoughts to be free." She looked Autumn up and down. "What's your disguise this time?"
"Housekeeping. Want me to fluff your pillow?"
"Again you mean?" Arin gave her a wink. "How does that work? The disguise."
"I set up a spoofer that makes the hotel V.I. think I'm just another cally with a theme."
"Call-ly?"
"A person of negotiable affection. Come on, did you really think everyone here is an athlete or security? The LSR is famous for its 'horizontal activity specialists' once you turn off the child-safety filters." She made air quotes.
"I can respect that. But I don't think I'm the type who likes to pay for that. Too easy."
"What was us meeting up the first time then?"
"A final act of freedom before becoming the Paragon put me out of reach." Arin lightly batted Autumn's side with her tail, only to have the offending limb gently pulled.
"Trust me, even Paragons are never out of reach," she gave Arin a wicked wink.
"Your burger Miss Paragon," the chef turned around, sliding the well-made union of meat, grease, and fries in front of her.
"Did your burgers get bigger than last time?" Arin joked.
"That's just your eyes being bigger than your stomach. But if you'd like it to go..." The older baseline human winked.
"Nah, I'll eat it here." She settled in to wait for it to cool. "So what's the occasion? Haven't found a way to sneak out?" she asked Autumn.
"More like... looking for inspiration in between jobs."
"Jobs? So you work on top of your whole slog thing?"
"Yep! Luxury is the benefit of labor. Usually, I just do one-hour gigs. In and out, make sure the clients are satisfied. Whatever's available where I go..."
"Sounds like a hassle. When I was getting started, I did construction work. Well... demolition work too." Being able to swing a steel support bar was a lot of fun in Earth gravity.
"I've done a few demolitions in my day," Autumn smiled. "Although lately I've been wondering if I should try something new..."
"New how?"
"Well, word on the grapevine is that you're heading out-system for a big race."
Arin snorted, "Yeah, if I can get my instructor to stop being an absolute bitch."
"Most drivers would consider themselves lucky to have Vlad the Impala's foot on their pedals." Autumn reached across and gave Arin's hand a light caress.
"You're flirting with me, Miss Summers," Arin purred. "Does your 'something new' involve me somehow?"
"If you're willing... Maybe we could help each other. I know a few things about how not being where you're supposed to be can help you get ahead." She scooted in, tempting Arin with her pink hair and the memory of her soft, smooth skin. She smelled like cherry blossoms.
"And what is it that I can do for you?" Arin leaned in as well.
"Just put your Paragon stamp on my travel credentials. I'll sneak in wherever you go and we can... work together."
"Only travel?"
"What can I say? I prefer the thrill of the break-in. Call it... freedom to go."
Arin burst out laughing. "I like that. What do you need?"
"Oh you know, just a DNA sample..." she leaned in, and Arin started to close her eyes...
Swipe!
Instead of a kiss, Arin felt the rough nub of a sampling stick across her lips.
Autumn was already leaning back and poking the stick into a medi-reader.
Disappointed, Arin sat back. She felt a bit catty when she asked, "I'm pretty sure you need more than just my DNA for my Paragon stamp."
"Oh, I already got your prints the last time we met," Autumn said with a wink, before standing. "I should go before your guards finish figuring out who I am."
True enough, the "crowd" had started to converge on their location.
Arin sighed and nodded. When Autumn was a few steps away she called out "Get a job!"
"Oh, I will!" Autumn shouted back.
Arin shook her head and turned back to her meal.
"Looks like it's just you and me, Miss Burger."
She picked it up with both hands and took a bite.