World Grand Prix Championship 13: RP Thread

[WGPC]

Cut-off for the very first race of the season.

Race One: The Grand Prix of Liventia

Laps: 52
Weather: Changeable

Pos	Car	Name			Team	OVERALL TIME	TIME GAP	
1	16	Matt Hingis		 1:29:05.366	0:00:00.000	
2	70	Moisés Delgado		 1:29:28.393	0:00:23.027	
3	11	Enu Noel		 1:29:42.303	0:00:36.936	
4	99	Rudolf Ibuna		 1:29:54.433	0:00:49.066	
5	29	Esteban Guilhermez	 1:30:02.621	0:00:57.254	
6	4	Riku Äijälä		 1:30:03.744	0:00:58.378	
7	1	Alexander Lund		 1:30:06.581	0:01:01.215	
8	64	Crimson LaRoja		 1:30:11.300	0:01:05.934	
9	14	Maxwell Song		 1:30:42.034	0:01:36.668	
10	17	Ryan Harris-Jones	 1:30:49.567	0:01:44.201	
11	24	Lovisa Landenberg	 1:30:50.952	0:01:45.585	
12	18	Wayne Forrest		 1:30:52.769	-1 Lap
13	52	Sayono Souzare		 1:31:30.717	-1 Lap
14	15	Alex Dimitrianov	 1:31:35.495	-1 Lap
15	74	Alexandra Mayari	 1:31:38.990	-1 Lap
16	39	Tyler Brooks		 1:31:41.878	-1 Lap
17	51	R.L. Cruisin		 1:31:42.052	-1 Lap
18	10	Lauren Ashburton	 1:31:48.527	-1 Lap
19	24	Victoria Gardner	 1:31:51.087	-1 Lap

	55	Asao Nadakei		 Retired, Lap 16

DRIVER'S STANDINGS
Pos	#	Name			Team				Pts
1	16	Matt Hingis		McPahan Racing			25
2	70	Moisés Delgado		Hansa-Nyrota Racing		18
3	11	Enu Noel		Aston Tickford Racing		14
4	99	Rudolf Ibuna		Team Dekijika-Tarogama		10
5	29	Esteban Guilhermez	Aston Tickford Racing		8
6	4	Riku Äijälä		Telaris Racing			6
7	1	Alexander Lund		McPahan Racing			4
8	64	Crimson LaRoja		Frontiere Racing		3
9	14	Maxwell Song		SinoMotors Racing		2
10	17	Ryan Harris-Jones	Macllynlleth Clockwork Racing	1
11	74	Alexandra Mayari	Scuderia Fuoco e Ghiaccio	0
11	24	Victoria Gardner	Scuderia Fuoco e Ghiaccio	0
11	39	Tyler Brooks		Macllynlleth Clockwork Racing	0
11	55	Asao Nadakei		Team Dekijika-Tarogama		0
11	52	Sayono Souzare		Archer Motorsports		0
11	10	Lauren Ashburton	Archer Motorsports		0
11	24	Lovisa Landenberg	Hansa-Nyrota Racing		0
11	51	R.L. Cruisin		Frontiere Racing		0
11	15	Alex Dimitrianov	SinoMotors Racing		0
11	18	Wayne Forrest		Telaris Racing			0

CONSTRUCTOR'S STANDINGS
McPahan Racing			29
Aston Tickford Racing		22
Hansa-Nyrota Racing		18
Team Dekijika-Tarogama		10
Telaris Racing			6
Frontiere Racing		3
SinoMotors Racing		2
Macllynlleth Clockwork Racing	1
Scuderia Fuoco e Ghiaccio	0
Archer Motorsports		0

The next race will be the Grand Prix of Audioslavia. Scorination of Friday practice will take place this coming Friday.

[The Glorious Han Chinese]

SinoCom Sports News

Weekend Overview: Grand Prix of Liventia

The WGPC 13 season has finally started, after a hiatus of 15 months from unknown reasons. Here in the Glorious Han, millions watch the Grand Prix of Liventia eagerly, cheering on their home team, SinoMotors Racing.

Friday-Practice
During practice, SinoMotors Racing managed to stun WGPC fans when Alex Dimitrianov managed to crawl to a seventh after sitting at the bottom of the timesheets during pre-season. SinoMotors fans took their joy to the Internet, expressing the desire to see a continuous increase in pace. Meanwhile, SinoMotors' rival, Frontiere Racing, went in the other direction when R.L. Cruisin slipped to 9th after an excellent pre-season performance. However, the practice was bittersweet for both teams when the final results were announced, with LaRoja managing a 3rd with a blistering display of pace and Song sitting at 18th. McPahan, the runner-ups to the crown last season, topped practice with Matt Hingis. Archer qualified with only one driver when they were unable to secure another driver. WGPC officials issued a statement allowing Archer's second driver to start from the pit lane, if they manage to find one.

Saturday-Qualifying
Qualifying results sent the grid a mean surprise, when the grid from practice was shuffled about. Alex Dimitrianov was sorely disappointed when he qualified 18th. Blame cannot be all placed on him, as the SM-1 suffered a brake issue when he took a different line through the track, and sent the SinoMotors engineers scrambling to assemble another pair of brakes and to try and prevent this problem from happening again. However, Maxwell Song delivered his first above-average performance when he qualified in 8th. McPahan driver, Matt Hingis, fell to sixth and will start alongside his teammate. Hansa-Nyrota's Delgado managed to secure pole position, but whether or not this rookie can hold it the next day remains to be seen. Frontiere Racing continued to inexplicably slip in pace, with LaRoja in 9th and Cruisin starting by himself at the back. Archer seemingly pulled a miracle out of thin air when they announced Lauren Ashburton as their second driver, despite Ashburton refusing to race for archer during pre-season.

Sunday-Race
The race threw all racing fans in the Glorious Han to festivities when home team, SinoMotors, finished in 9th with their home driver, Maxwell Song. Despite starting 8th, the inexperienced rookie was unable to withstand the ferocious assault by LaRoja and gave up his position. But he delivered another excellent performance when he manage to hold the 9th position. Alex Dimitrianov was given more attention by the team as he tried to push into the scoring positions from 18th. Unfortunately, he only managed to reach 15th when the race finally ended. But the main performance of the race was Hingis' push into 1st. Starting 6th, he flew past car after car to take a well-deserved win, overshadowing his more illustrious teammate, Lund. The only retirement came from Dekijika-Tarogama's Asao Nadakei.

Overview
WGPC veteran, McPahan, seems to be in position to challenge the title after recovering from the death of their manager last season, along with newcomers Aston-Tickford and Hansa-Nyrota. Hodori's famed ENSADRINK Dekijika-Tarogama just missed out on the final podium spot and their reliability comes into question when their car is the only retirement. However, they cannot be discounted from the title fight, with an extremely prestigious pedigree. Telaris seems to be comfortably ahead of the midfield rivals, SinoMotors and Frontiere, while Macllynlleth and Archer seem to be slightly off the teams in front. Scuderia Fuoco e Ghiaccio sits in the back, and will have a lot of work to do if they don't want to become mobile chicanes for the frontrunners.

[Nekoni]

"Fifteenth? Fif-SODDING-teenth!?" yelled Christian Fatali, the chief mechanic. His face was not a pretty sight at all, and Alexandra Mayari knew it. Today was not her finest hour, not by a long shot. It was a pretty disastrous weekend from start to finish for SFeG, with the top ten continuously out of reach all weekend. They had looked a third-rate team out there, and any excuses were not going to cut it with Mr. Fatali.

"You're not being brave enough. You finished a whole two and a half minutes behind Matt, three seconds a lap. You know full well how important shaving seconds is, and you know full well that this is NOT good enough." Alex didn't say anything. She couldn't really think of anything of worth to. In short, she ballsed it up. It was a sub-standard drive from start to finish: throughout, she looked almost a completely different driver to the Mayari who notched up two podium finishes last season. Every opportunity, every time there was a window to pass, she just couldn't do it. And she couldn't even blame her car. The vehicle was fine, it was her brain today that needed an extensive service.

"Look, look at this bit," Fatali sped up the video playback to lap 35. Her car was exiting turn 12, into the fast back half of Gold Park Circuit. She had Souzare from the Archer team in her sights. In single file they both shot through the quick turns, the silver Ghiacci steadily gaining thanks to the slipstream. However, this was expected, as these turns were fairly simple - if you weren't taking them all full throttle, you had no business racing in the championship in the first place. "Here were are, turn 19, watch your line." Alex had attempted to squeeze into a gap right on the edge of the line, but it was poorly orchestrated. Sourzare saw it coming a mile off, and had already moved into the space to get all of the turn. It played out with Mayari having to brake hard to avoid rear-ending the Archer, and wrecking her speed on the pit straight. To Souzare, it was a simple brake-turn-and-accelerate action, and with one easy swoop, utterly shamed Mayari.

"See that? You went for opportunities that weren't there. You didn't go for opportunities that were there. Look, I know you've been out of proper racing for a while, but so has everyone else." Fatali then took a deep sigh, and took a heavy glug of sports drink from his sponsorship-clad silver bottle. "Normally I'd give you the benefit of the doubt, but...this ain't you, Alex. You're so much better than this. And both you and I know the team took a gamble with Vicky, so all of us need you to be consistent. If you keep getting good results, it'll give Victoria a benchmark, and you'll both improve. But not when you're this...bad."

Fatali then moved over to his laptop and brought up an image of the Audioslavian Crossport Raceway. Next round is in Audioslavia. Different track, It's more focused on speed. Your exit from the end of the lap is going to be cruicial. See that Linco turn at the end of the tunnel, right there where it tightens? If you aren't hitting the apex there for each and every lap, you're ruining two laps. Study this track, until you can do that in your sleep. We need to get some points this time, so get to it. You have a lot of work to do." He picked up his laptop and walked out of the garage, leaving Alex to collect her telemetry data.

This was not the start she wanted. Understatement of the century there. After such a big fanfare of Nekoni entering their own team, their first race ended in what could only be described as humiliation. The only modicum of a positive to be taken was the fact that both drivers finished, but even so, that shows up as nothing on the leaderboard. She could hear the baying press from her home country calling her over, commanding her for some kind of an explanation during the long walk from the garage to her trailer. And she knew full well, that if she didn't book her ideas up, and fast, this would only get worse.

[Apox]

"FUCK YESSSSSSSSS"

Matt screamed into the radio as he crossed the finish line, remarkably, finishing first. He'd had a brilliant race, starting 6th on the gird, just ahead of his teammate Alex Lund - quite the surprise seeing as his teammate was the reigning champion and generally had a much better history in this competition than Hingis.

"Top race Matt, back to the pits then" came the voice of Jacky Johansen on the team radio, as Matt cruised another lap towards the pit lane. He reflected on what he'd just done. 25 points.... wow. That was more than triple his entire haul from the entirety of last season just in the first race. Admittedly this car was altogether a much quicker and lighter beast from the more sluggish Works team car he'd driven last time out, and McPahan were a much more... professional outfit than the works team, but still.

It had been the race of his life, everything had just felt right. He'd hit the corners right, managed to impose himself on the the track and indeed on the other drivers - eventually catching up with pole Moises Delgado in the 34th lap and managing to dodge past him through the 16th turn, having braked much better through the preceding couple of turns. A super tight pit stop shortly afterwards had extended his lead, and he hadn't looked back since.

Time to go and celebrate the win, before the real hard work of maintaining a strong position in the drivers and constructors standings really began.

[Yttribia]

"FUCKING BULLSHIT!"

Those were the only words Tyler Brooks could come up with saying after the atrocious race at Liventia. He was absolutely pissed with what was going on in the car recently, with terrible performances at the Gold Park Circuit. He felt as if he wasn't living up to the hype at Macllynlleth, and was just down and out. It really was terrible seeing the Frontière team celebrating with Crimson for getting three points, he felt that should have been him if it weren't for that Gaston Duval idiot. He could see Duval popping bottles upon bottles of champagne for getting three points, which was something that irked him a lot. So there he was, standing in the pit lanes, helmet in hand, looking on, depressed at the sight of what went wrong.

This was the life, he thought. This was the life.

[Liventia]

*Bzzt*

"That's P10, mate, P10. Well done Ryan, top drive mate. Home grand prix and your first championship point. Proud of you mate."

Ryan Harris-Jones recognised the voice over his radio. It wasn't team principal Rhys Macllynlleth but rather close friend and personal mentor Matthew Portland, Liventia's two-time world champion.

"Woohoo! Fantastic work! Thanks Matt, thanks to everyone in the pits, everyone worked really hard this weekend. Where's Tyler?"

Tyler Brooks, Harris-Jones's Yttribian teammate, had 'finished' ahead of him, although he had been lapped by race winner Matt Hingis of Apox.

"Tyler crossed the line ahead of you mate," came Portland's reply half in jest.

Harris-Jones was crestfallen. "Well that's good for him and the team then I guess," he mumbled. Getting beaten by his teammate on his home track?

"Don't worry, Ryan," Macllynlleth interrupted. "Your status as sole points scorer for Clockwork is safe. Tyler was lapped by Hingis so crossed the line a lap down."

Things could have gone better for Harris-Jones. Starting from 13th, he overtook Victoria Gardner after the latter suffered an early puncture which forced her to pit and subsequently drop to the back of the field.

Wayne Forrest was dealt with on a smart sharp move heading into the fast last sector of the circuit on lap 27 at the halfway point, by which time Asao Nadakei had already retired with mechanical issues.

But Esteban Guilhermez, who RHJ had marked out as his closest competitor heading into Sunday, was nowhere to be seen - the Aston-Tickford driver had raced off into the distance, getting past even defending champion Alex Lund.

Not to mention he had that brilliant chance when racing wheel-to-wheel with Lund…

He was snapped out of his parc fermé reverie when Portland came over to his car and patted him on the helmet.

"Well done mate," he grinned, giving the youngster a big hug. "Good race. Look over there –" Portland pointed at the grandstand, where large numbers of home fans waved large Liventian flags and a giant banner with Portland and RHJ's faces adorned on it – "and wave to them. You're the hero today to them, not Hingis."

"Ah well," RHJ shrugged. "It's a start I guess. On to Audioslavia, eh?"

[Audioslavia]

It's impossible to slam the door of a WGPC car, and yet Matt Hingis managed to convey having done just that as he exited his #16 car after Thursday's pre-practice run-round-the-circuit that McPahan could afford themselves, what with having their offices just a few miles from the Crossport Raceway track.

"Like a dream" said Matt, whipping his helmet off and loreal-ing his hair as best he could and walking over to where his team-mate, Alec Lund, was sitting, with a swagger. "Last time I rode an Audioslavian that fast it was Mardi Gras"
"Explains the walk" said Alec. "But aye, she's running a lot better now, aye"
"She runs like a Cazaran firefly to a Starblaydi" nodded Matt, "meaning 'fast considering all that weight on her'"
"She's heavy, aye" said Alec. Matt shrugged.
"The last one I rode was a heavy-un as well."
"We still talking about cars?"
"I think so"
"She can run even faster, too" interjected Stan McPahan, tapping a clipboard against his be-suited chest as he strolled up to the two drivers. Matt nodded at his manager.
"Good morning boss" said the Apoxian. Lund simply took a swig from his water bottle.
"You can both get that car round the track quicker" said Stan, "one minute thirty should be possible. Probably below that too. What's important, though, is you guys should have steady lap-times come the weekend. None of this one-thirty-two followed by three one-forties like you had out there, Alec"
"Pushing, boss"
"You were pushing yourself, not the car. There's a difference."
"Hey, man" said Matt, "I could have gotten out and pushed it and taken Hammerhead faster than you". The Apoxian winked.
"Very funny" said Alec, smiling a little too sarcastically. "That one was served up to you on a plate as big as.... as big as... hey, as big as this". Alec turned and plucked off the wall a large silver plate with 'WGPC Champion' written on it.
"That's the third time you've made that joke today" said Matt
"It won't be the last"
"Gents, if we could all stop measuring our cervixes" interjected Jacky Johanson, rounding the corner of the garage. "Stan, you're required over at the office. Gents, you're done for the day."

Stan nodded at the two drivers, and was lead off elsewhere by Jacky. Alec tossed his helmet in the air, caught it in his left hand and invited Matt to lead the way.
"You know, It's just banter, right?" said Matt, with a look partially of concern, yet with a wry smile from the corner of his mouth.
"I get five hundred thousand people bantering with me on twitter" said Alec, before shaking his head. "Sorry. Pressure. I'll get that stick out of my arse as soon as I get this car ahead of everyone elses."
"Attaboy"

[WGPC]

Cut off for Friday's pre-qualifying practice session

Friday Practice: Crossport Raceway, Audioslavia

The Crossport Raceway, Audioslavia's newest and most modern grand prix circuit, has a long straight down to turn one, the so called 'turn of the century', a mid-length left-hander just deep enough to whittle a pack of 24 roaring cars to single file. Alec approaches at a modest speed, pumps the brakes and coasts around the corner, missing all apexes by a mile, before accelerating downhill, through Turn 2 before easing off for the tighting right hander that ends with the 'Hammerhead' turn - a sharp right onto a long straight. The g-force from the right-hander presses his helmet into the side of the cockpit - a force his neck isn't quite strong enough to counter. He lets out a grunt as the corner opens out into the straight, which he accelerates down as fast as is possible. A shallow incline levels out into a 10-degree left, followed by a hard, hard braking zone which puts extra pressure on that neck. The car judders to an almost standstill, thankfully without any wheelspin, and he feeds the car through the turn as best he can. It's still.. not quite right. Not only are his, and therefore the car's, movements not quite smooth enough, but the g-forces are still messing with him and everything is still... it's somehow sluggish. Was the car heavier? Was the engine not giving him as much as last season? The car, like him, felt a little more lethargic and a few pounds too heavy. What was wrong?

Knock corner hones into view in front of him, and Alec takes it at a safe pace, feeding the car through Hold and Loose before accelerating up the part of the circuit named after him. Lund Hill. A big, steep climb with a slight right-hand lilt. He builds speed up the hill, levels out for a short straight before starting the descent down Bunn Straight - named after his former team-mate.

Alec's eyes open at the sight in front of him - perhaps the most dangerous part of any circuit on the current WGPC calendar. The rail tunnel. It wasn't technically a rail tunnel - the cars weren't driving on rails - it was, rather, a bridge, with a functioning railtrack above. The track had originally been built to end just before it, but problems with the steep descent down Bunn hill meant that either the track had to wind back out and in again to negate the steep clim, or be extended just a little past the original boundaries. It was the quickest part of the circuit even with the slight bend, and at the end of it was a wall. It may have been a wall angled so that it would give even the most out-of-sorts cars a long, grinding slide rather than a head-on crash, but it was a wall nonetheless, and even clipping a tire in the wrong place could spell the end of one's race.

Alec brakes as late as he dare - which isn't that late, it turns out - and banks right, and right again, before embarking on the main straight. He stamps on the accelerator as quickly as possible, and curses under his breath as the engine goes through the gears just a fraction of a second slower than he'd like. The horizon hurtles towards him, he passes the line, and it's the start of his flying lap. This is definitely it, now. Now he goes about earning that big old salary of his.

The Turn of the Century soon arrives, for the second time, and this time the McPahan F180a is flush on the right hand side of the track for the approach. A pump of the brakes kills his speed and lets him decellerate through to second gear. He misses the apex on the inside, but his the outer one. The right-rear spins as he fails to get the traction he needs to properly hit top speed down the short downhill straight before turn two, but he does manage to take the second turn smoothly and coast round to Hammerhead. His head, once again, is duly hammered onto the side of the cockpit as he swings round, a little too fast, onto the main straight, and the car eats up all of the generous rumble-strip and even a few blades of grass as he begins the shallow climb on the eastern part of the circuit. The car, once again, gallops a little labouredly up the hill, still feeling as if he's dragging a wheelbarrow full of tar behind him. He's thankful for the absense of said wheelbarrow as he brakes hard for Hammertail. The tyres squeal in protest as he again carries a few too many horses round the corner, and he's rocked by a sharp mount of the outer rumblestrip as the car straightens out again.

Flush onto the right hand side of the circuit, Alec narrows his eyes with determination as Knock homes into view, and he swings the car violently into the left-hander. The rear end feels like it's about to slip away... it thankfully doesn't, but he's certainly gone in too hard, and has to keep his foot off the accelerator in order to get himself into Hold at the correct angle. The car drifts slowly round Hold before Loose comes into view, and Alec pumps the car forward into the corner, getting good traction and good speed out of it in comparison to last time, and hurtling up his own hill as quick as possible. He hears the engine struggle against the combined forces of gravity and air resistance. The shallow right almost takes Lund by surprise, but he keeps his foot pressed against the accelerator all the while. Now, it's time for the right-hander down to Bunn Hill, and Alec can't help but glance at the speedometer as it dances to and beyond the 200 mark... well beyond... scarily beyond... the tunnel gets too close for comfort. Alec brakes hard, the wheels scream in anguish. The right-rear locks up, forcing Alec to pump the brakes again. He's just in time for the right-hander, and gets the car round Linco Turn quickly. The engine lets out a bloodcurdling warcry as the start-finish line rushes towards its wheels.

"Nice first lap. One-thirty-three point oh-three-three. Top marks for repetition. You can go quicker. Over"...

Pos	Car	Name	Team	
1	51	R.L. Cruisin		 1:30.929 (new lap record)
2	24	Lovisa Landenberg	 1:30.936
3	16	Matt Hingis		 1:30.971
4	1	Alexander Lund		 1:31.059
5	64	Crimson LaRoja		 1:31.099
6	70	Moisés Delgado		 1:31.111
7	4	Riku Äijälä		 1:31.183
8	15	Alex Dimitrianov	 1:31.236
9	14	Maxwell Song		 1:31.312
10	18	Wayne Forrest		 1:31.318
11	24	Victoria Gardner	 1:31.321
12	17	Ryan Harris-Jones	 1:31.323
13	74	Alexandra Mayari	 1:31.370
14	39	Tyler Brooks		 1:31.404
15	55	Asao Nadakei		 1:31.515
16	10	Lauren Ashburton	 1:31.523
17	99	Rudolf Ibuna		 1:31.555
18	29	Esteban Guilhermez	 1:31.915
19	11	Enu Noel		 1:31.922
20	52	Sayono Souzare		 1:32.386

[Mattijana]

"That's P8 Alex, you're about 3 tents off the pace, do you think you can get a bit more around sector 2?"

"I'm trying, the 6-7-8 section needs a better line, I'm trying to work it out, but if you could look into it, that would be great."

"Understood"

...

...

"How's Maxwell doing?"

"He's P9, just under a tenth behind you. Let's keep it that way in Quali."

Overall it was a good all-round practice for the SinoMotors team. Alex Dimitrianov was once again faster than his teammate, but this time by a very small margin. Both cars were comfortably inside the top ten however. The main issue this time was to convert strong practice results into hot laps in qualifying and points in the race. So far, that was the problem on Alex's side of the garage, and that was how he'd get up in the standings and make a name for himself.

[The Glorious Han Chinese]

Max sped down the straight and whisked passed the finish line.
"Alright Max, P13. Push it up."
Max clenched his hands as the Turn of the Century came up. He slammed the brakes and turned into the corner, and spun into the gravel. He punched the limp wheel."Dammit, every single time. The track's too narrow."
"Focus, Max. We need to get into the points."
--------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------
10 laps later, Max no longer spun at the Turn of the Century every time. In fact, he barely made any mistakes. He got into a trance, as the track became a sort of tunnel, his hands and feet almost subconsciously guiding the car around.
"Okay Max, P9. You're a tenth off Alex. Now come back in."
"Why, it's only my 14th lap?"
"You're MGU-H is overheating on the last section, and we don't want to lose it."
"Is Alex's car fine?"
"Yeah, the new ERS unit on his is doing fine. We have one for you by the race."
Max turned off into the pits, and stopped at his garage. The engine technicians peeled off the engine cover as the pit crew pushed back opportunistic photographers. Max climbed out and placed his helmet and gloves on the counter. He picked up a set of headphones and put them on.
"Hey, Alex. Make SinoMotors proud."

[New Matawan]

(First, I'd like to apologize for my activity, or lack thereof. I've been working on personal issues, and I haven't had much access to the Internet lately. Secondly, I would like to confirm San Jose Guayabal's note that Riku has signed with the Telaris team.)

Riku climbed out of his blue and white car. He eagerly looked at the timing screen above: 1:31.183. Seventh best. Not bad for an old rookie.

Signing with Telaris looked to be a good move, so far. First and foremost, it meant he didn't have to run around scrounging for a sponsor anymore; the Telaris Company was, of course, footing their own bill. Telaris could afford to build competitive cars without needing its drivers to bring the dough; chew on that, Dirk! And while Telaris was undoubtedly a corporate entity, it didn't feel corporate; the friendly atmosphere and devotion to learning made him feel like he was back home.

So far, his hard work seemed to pay off. He consistently qualified in the top half of the field, and while he didn't seriously contend for the win, he scored a solid sixth at Gold Park last week. Of remark was his position above the de jure #1 driver Wayne Forrest, by over a tenth of a second: he hated pointing this out, in fear of offending anyone (especially the young teammate himself), but setting the team's fastest time was a good sign that he was getting the most out of his car.

However, speedy time trials meant little in the actual race if the car was slow come race day. Setting a good pace in a 90-minute low-pressure practice session was one thing, but keeping up with 19 other cars all vying for first, while factoring in all the other possible variables, was another matter entirely. Poor passing strategy was exactly what had doomed his chances at Gold Park, after all. What if more of the same happened in Crossport, and he finished half a lap behind again? Or worse, a full lap? That's not even considering if he got into a wreck, or got stuck on pit ro-

Snap out of it, Riku said to himself, flicking his wrist to derail the train of thought. I'm being too negative on myself. I'm one of the most experienced drivers in the league on a team that can afford to build the best cars. Hell, I earned points in just my first race. I just have to prepare for qualifying, is all.

Riku removed his helmet, placed it gently on the nose of the car, and began his trek to the garage, where no doubt press reporters would be waiting for interviews again. Dear God, press reporters.

[The Glorious Han Chinese]

The SM-1 is SinoMotors Racing's first attempt at a WGPC car, excluding a prototype built for a domestic feeder series. The SM-1 is all built in-house, with the only purchased components being the electronics systems and brakes. It features an extremely compact power unit, due to design constraints on the size of the car's "waist". However, the compact size held back the car's pace during pre-season, when the team was still finding ways to increase power and reliability. The chassis is developed by studying WGPC cars of previous seasons, and SinoMotors' own "research" (disclaimer: which is in no way affected by any corporate espionage that has gotten the team banned from several foreign racing series). The long nose has slits that better facilitate airflow to the rear of the car. The front wing has a deeply stepped U-shape undercut towards its outer edge to affect the air pressure below the wing, and the rear wing features two gills at the front and top, and a low-downforce main profile and flap, which can be replaced by a higher-downforce rear wing if necessary.

All further information is classified as a state secret, under the National Teams Protection Act of the People's Republic of the Glorious Han (PRGH). Violators who disclose any further information will be persecuted by the PRGH and the SinoMotors Automobile Corporation.

[Audioslavia]

"To start, gentlemen, that was an acceptable performance" began Stan McPahan. He proffered a quick 'well done', though neither Matt Hingis nor Alec Lund felt it was a particularly warm one. Stan had, before practice began, said in not so many words that he felt first and second in practice should be possible. When you worked with Stan long enough, you came to appreciate that the phrase 'this should be possible' tended to mean 'this is your minimal god-damn requirement'.
Stan McPahan, Matt Hingis, Alec Lund and Jacky Johanson were sat around a desk in the room Stan had made his office for the weekend. On the desk were a number of things that a leyman might simply call 'print-outs', yet were probably deeply important for at least a couple of the people in the room. Matt was perusing one of them - the power output from his car - while Jacky was busy comparing notes between her clipboard and an array of smartpad screens in front of her. Alec was leant back in his chair, counting the tiles in the ceiling.
"So, with regards to the car... any questions"
"Can we make it lighter?" asked Alec, immediately. Stan sighed.
"Not without risking your life"
"It was fine last..."
"No, Alec" said Stan, already exasperated, "it really wasn't. The car you won two races in? That car you won the championship in? It had the same weight as this one, not including the weight of the engine, which is big and heavier and less likely to explode in your face"
"Not more powerful, though"
"No. The boys at Link are working on that. No word on improvements yet. In the mean time, though, we can talk improvements to your racing line at this circuit, unless you've anything to add about the car, Matt?"
"There's no space in the cockpit for the enormous erection I get driving her"
"Moving on" said Stan, shaking his head. "The first turn is.."
"There was a time when you'd have laughed at something like that" said Alec, still leaning back in his chair, right leg crossed over his left knee, occasionally balancing his weight on the chair's back legs.
"And there was a time, Alec, when you respected me enough not to interrupt me"
"Calm yourselves, you two" said Jacky, "you're both utter ***** when you're stressed."
"I'm not stressed, just frustrated" replied Alec, "can't find my rhythm"
"You had rhythm last season" said Stan, "and it took you months before you even gathered a solitary point. We don't want you to play reggae, we want you to drive like a professional"
Alec uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. Matt Hingis, who didn't know the Audioslavian so well yet felt he knew when a tirade was about to happen, jumped in before Alec could speak.
"Turn one is a dream for time trials" said the Apoxian. Alec shook his head and leaned back.
"What do you mean?" said Jacky, raising her volume a little, trying to make sure the boys knew that this, here, was the new topic of conversation.
"Take a wide line and don't hit the apex until right at the end of the corner, then accelerate through turn two and brake late for Hammerhead. Works a charm. Bought me a split second at any rate"
"Didn't see you take that line, Alec. Make a note of that" said Stan.
Alec's reply started with an 'F'. The room fell silent again. Alec leaned forward and looked Stan dead in the eye.
"I'm completely aware that it's possible to take an open line into that corner, delay acceleration til a breath past the apex and then get yourselfthe perfect line down to turn two. I'm also aware, however, that in doing so in an *actual race* will encourage some gubbins to cut inside, cut you off for that corner, and deny you the opportunity to use your momentum to get the jump on them either round turn two or at Hammerhead, so what I do, Stan, because I'm a racer, and a world champion racer at that, is I don't rely on that line because that's going to cost me come race-day, and I make sure I get the closed variation of that line down as quick as possible. Yeah, I'm two hundredths slower because of it, but that two hundredths doesn't mean nothing if I'm right behind that 'quicker' car, because I'm gonna scunner him when he runs wide for that corner"
"Alec, don't tell me to eff off" was Stan's calm reply, having had the chance to calm himself while Alec talked.
"Don't assume I don't know what I'm doing, then" replied Alec. "I had Matt's line mapped out ages ago"
There was a pause as all four of them figured out what they should say next. Matt spoke first.
"Yeah, Alec told me about that line first. I'd recommend you take it for qualifying though. Y'know, obviously"
"Aye" said Alec.
"You could properly take Hammertail properly too, though" said Jacky. Alec furrowed his brow, as did Matt.
"You've both taken that corner differently. Alec waits til as late as possible to turn, tries to use all of the apex at the start of the corner. Matt is braking earlier and turning earlier."
"I get more momentum from my line, though" said Alec. Jacky shook her head.
"Well, yes, you hit the speed-check before Knock at a higher speed every time, but the straight runs out too early. You're the same speed through the apex, but crucially, Matt is a little bit quicker approaching it."
"Right" said Alec, sighing, "I underestimated how short that straight is, then"
"I think we can all agree, guys" started Stan, "that neither of us has the answers if we just work on our own. We need to compare notes like this every evening, even if we're all tired and crabby from a hard day's work"
"And if you could stop biting eats others' heads off and getting into short bouts of cock-measuring, that'd be great" said Jacky, with a smile.

She heard a couple of grumbled 'sorry's in Audioslavian accents.

---

"They were thick as thieves, last season" said Johan Johanson, Jacky's father, on the phone, later that evening. "Joined together to fight the 'big' fight against Linco McPahan. Had each others' backs at all times, proper bromance stuff"
"So why the change" sighed Jacky, sitting on the hotel bed with her phone resting on her shoulder, both hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea, "it's like they're both two bitter runners-up in a 'being a div' contest"
"Success" said Johan, "plain and simple. Both of them are successful. Alec is the reigning world champion, Stan turned McPahan from a joke to a.. well.. successful joke. Image of the company has been changed right round. Thing is, both of them still have something to prove in the eyes of the public and, if they were to be honest with themselves, in their own eyes too. People are always gonna look at Alec's victory last season and say, well, he was lucky, he benefitted from the misfortunes of others, and occasionally caused those misfortunes himself. Stan gets accused of 'lucking out' and inheriting a team that could already build fast cars. He's yet to actually prove himself to the public, and only a successful season 13 is going to help that. On top of that.." - there was a pause. Jacky heard the unmistakable sound of the remnants of a coffee being finished off - "..it's been so long since the events of season 12, they've both had time to start believing their own bullshit. Alec grew his hair, started fornicating with anything that moved and started listening to all the posh twats who wanted him on their yacht. Stan shaved his hair and started wearing designer suits and writing columns on 'how to be a success' in aspirational magazines. They've become twats over the last few months. Your problem, pet, is to figure out a way to un-twat them. Make them humble."
Jacky stared at the ceiling for a second.
"How on earth do I do that?"
"Beats me" said Johan, "never seen a twat get properly untwatted before. You could start by sabotaging their car, though, and blaming it on someone else. That's what I did..."

There was a pause. Jacky processed what she'd just heard.

"...just kidding"

[Eastfield Lodge]

The up and down life of a racing driver. Being a hot shot one season to a nobody the next season. Even in the same season, the differences between the high and low points can be larger than one would expect - a few wins intermingled with a few non-point-scoring finishes, or even non-finishes. And it had been a very up and down weekend in Neverend, Liventia for Victoria.

Friday practice had been nothing short of a nightmare. She just couldn't get the lap hooked up properly, so often she felt the car was just a bit sluggish coming out of many of the slow corners, especially on the first corner hairpin and the turn 19. But try as she might, she could only eke out some tenths here and there, and by her seventh lap, was somewhere in the midfield with a 1:41.298. And that would prove to be her best time of the day, as on the next lap, she would beach the car in a gravel pit, having locked up her front brakes on the hairpin at turn 3 and going straight on. She was clearly frustrated, and a rare burst of that frustration showed as she kicked the tyre on the way to the marshal post.

And her day just got worse after that, first with a ticking off from Christan Fitali, the team's chief mechanic; in retrospect, she probably deserved it for a horrendous display in that practice session, and for losing valuable running time by beaching the car in the manner she did. That was just compounded as the session went on, and the times tumbled as the track rubbered in and grip increased - one by one, the drivers initially slower than her got faster, and began overtaking her. Minute by minute, she inched closer to the bottom of the pile, a position she had been in so often as a test driver in the MSA-SinVal. And about 20 minutes from the end, she turned away from the screen, just as Maxwell Song overtook her time, and relegated her to the bottom of the pile.

Moving on to Saturday, and Victoria's first ever WGPC-level qualification session was looming. A new day, a new start and a new chance for her. And she took it. Perhaps she needed the reminder, the taste of what it felt like to be at the bottom again, to get her going, and it seemed to work (in the grand scheme of how the weekend panned out). Her first lap was already less than a tenth behind her best practice time, a decent 1:41.381. Staying out, she pushed harder, and the demons that had been plaguing her the day before had seemingly disappeared, and the times started to fall as well. For the first time so far this season, she'd felt at home in the car. By the third lap, she'd cut the time down to 1:39.903, and was sitting pretty inside the top ten. She came in after that, having been one of the first on track, but the team could see a subtle change in her demeanour.

As the session rumbled on, the rest of the teams had gotten their first few runs on the board, and by the halfway mark of the session, she'd fallen to 14th, at which point she suited up and got back into the car. The second half of qualifying just went in the same vein as the first, but on her second lap of that run (5th in the session), she had clawed out another tenth of a second, going down below 1:39.8, and putting her back into the top 10 for a few moments. A few more hundredths in the following lap had taken her time down to a pretty good 1:39.764, just a few tenths off the leaders, but a small slide on the fourth flying lap saw that run end, and she returned to the pits with about half an hour left in the session. Mayari was still out on track, and more or less keeping pace with her, judging by her previous lap times.

Cool-down period over, she went out with 10 minutes to go, trying to take advantage of the track being at its most rubbered in; there was some improvement, taking her time down to 1:39.712, and 11th, as the front-runners began pulling away and lapping tenths quicker. Another lap, full focus, getting as much out of the car as she could. Result: improvement - but only in time (1:39.700) - Wayne Forrest had beaten that by a mere hundredth of a second, from what she could hear from the pit wall, pushing her down to 12th. A target, one to aim for, and quite reachable. And Victoria tried, eking out as much as she could, but in the end, she fell 3 thousandths of a second short, finishing in 12th with a 1:39.693. A great time, after the disaster that was the practice session, and P12 was just outside the points...

Come raceday (again, another first for Victoria in her WGPC career), Victoria's spirits were at the highest point at the weekend - despite being extremely nervous, she was excited at the prospect of a proper race. P12, 6th row - not the best place to start on the grid, to be honest, but if she could convert that to a point scoring position, then what a way to start her season. Mayari would start behind her - best place to have a teammate when outside the points really, they could help fend off challenges to one's position. The Telaris of Wayne Forrest was the co-occupier of the sixth row, with Esteban Guilhermez's Aston-Tickford and Crimson LaRoja's Frontiere filling the row in front - they were the targets. It was a long run from the start to the first corner, enough to make a couple of places with a good start before forming up ahead of braking for the corner. The grid was clear, parade lap was over, engines being revved. This din was so familiar, and she cracked a smile before the first light went on. Two, three, four, five red lights. Concentration intensifies.

Lights out! The Race Started! Victoria had a decent start, making a few feet on Guilhermez. Nose ahead, first corner approaching. Cars bunching up, chaos begins. A nudge from the side, defending from Mayari and Rhys-Jones. Another nudge, a worrying wobble. Something wasn't right. Where was the grip on the exit? She got the car around, but just couldn't put the power down. Then came the message "Possible puncture, Vicky, front right". Well great! She had to back off, let the field pass her on the run down to turn 3; every passing car was a hammer blow to her confidence - her race was pretty much over at this point. The tyre had properly gone, and she would have to limp all the way around the track back to the pits. And to add insult to injury, the tyre then exploded halfway around the track - the marshals were quick to remove the debris before the cars came back around, but dragging the car along on three wheels did no small amount of damage to the underside. She was well lapped by the time she limped back into the pit box, and the pit crew were ready to get a fresh set of tyres on the car. They did it quickly, and Victoria went back out, but being nearly two laps down at this point, there was little she could do. She tried her best, but in the end it was in vain, even though she finished a mere 2.5 seconds behind the Archer of Lauren Ashburton, who she was desperately trying to overtake at the end. A dismal end to a rollercoaster weekend, and Victoria was too dejected to talk to the team straight after the race.

The life of a racing driver - the ups and the downs. Over a career, over a single season, and even over a race weekend.

[WGPC]

Cut off for Saturday's qualifying session

Saturday Qualifying

Drivers have ninety minutes to record a maximum of ten laps. The fastest is recorded.

Pos	Car	Name		
1	51	R.L. Cruisin		 1:30.944
2	16	Matt Hingis		 1:31.052
3	1	Alexander Lund		 1:31.077
4	70	Moisés Delgado		 1:31.135
5	4	Riku Äijälä		 1:31.154
6	15	Alex Dimitrianov	 1:31.171
7	55	Asao Nadakei		 1:31.294
8	99	Rudolf Ibuna		 1:31.302
9	18	Wayne Forrest		 1:31.356
10	14	Maxwell Song		 1:31.484
11	24	Lovisa Landenberg	 1:31.489
12	64	Crimson LaRoja		 1:31.522
13	10	Lauren Ashburton	 1:31.668
14	17	Ryan Harris-Jones	 1:31.672
15	39	Tyler Brooks		 1:31.989
16	74	Alexandra Mayari	 1:32.172
17	52	Sayono Souzare		 1:32.458
18	29	Esteban Guilhermez	 1:32.728
19	11	Enu Noel		 1:32.866
20	24	Victoria Gardner	 1:33.378

Drivers line up as follows for tomorrow's race

[Vermark]

"Thanks for clearing up that whole jail situation. You really saved the day."

"No problem. Let's take a seat and talk about these sponsorship issues you've been having."

The team principal and ex-detainee nearly sat down, but before he did he recalled the pain that would come with such an action. He was explored in jail in a way that should not have ever happened. It was a feeling that won't be forgotten. It keeps him up at night, unable to sleep, and now unable to sit. Why did I have to drop the soap? Why was I so naive in that scenario? Will my asshole ever be-

"Uh, are you going to sit or..."

"Um, sorry," the principal lowered himself over the chair but stood back up at the last second. "You know, I'm just going to stand."

"Okay then," Spectersson, the high-level corporate attorney did not quite understand what was going on with his client, but he did not really care. "So what's the deal with Nyrota?"

"Well as you know, Nyrota makes high performance all-electric automotive engines. They've become the biggest auto manufacturer in Vermark; it's a big hit with consumers. Their sponsorship of us is a big deal for their advertising scheme. It helps them create an image that contradicts the idea of electric motors being weak and slow. However, Nyrota is upset that we are using petroleum combustion engines instead of their electric motors."

Spectersson stared blankly for a few seconds. "That's...what the fuck? Do they realize that we can't just use whatever motors we want? Do they realize we have to fit the spec that WGPC gives us?"

The principal began to feel like the messenger being shot. "I gue-I don't know. Maybe we could just try just to see if anyone notices."

"Really? You want to race a car that's going to make no sound at all and recharge every pit stop instead of refuel?"

"Well, yeah. That'd be pretty cool."

"How would that work? Would you just plug it in from behind?"

As the lawyer said, "plug it in from behind" the principal arched his back, grimaced, and yelled, "NO!"

Spectersson looked even more puzzled then he did before. "Sorry?"

The principal woke up from his flashback. "Erm, no, I'm not sure how it would work."

"Alright, well, Nyrota is not being reasonable, so we should just tell them to go fuck-"

"STOP!" The principal had yet another flashback to the frisky men in the jailhouse.

"What?"

"I mean, we should just make sure we're being nice. They're good sponsors."

"You're right. They've really helped us penetra-"

"AHHH!"

"What's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Okay. I'm going to fly back to Videnhagen and make sure all your paperwork is in line. Call me if you need anything." Confused and somewhat freaked out, Spectersson left the building. Meanwhile, the principal was exhausted and took a seat in the chair. When he landed, he felt a sharp pain and screamed before falling on the floor. Lovisa Landenberg came running in.

"What happened?"

The principal was on the floor in a post-traumatic trance. "LUKA! LUKA, NO! IT'S TOO SMALL TO HANDLE! NO!"

The driver turned around and called Spectersson, "Hey...yeah...we might need a new principal...Not sure, seems like a bug crawled up his ass..."

"The principal screamed.

"Oh...It must've been a really big bug.

[Krytenia]

Mike Dewhurst slammed his headset down on the pitwall worktop. There was an ominous crunching sound as several important pieces of electronics became smaller pieces of electronics.

"slanislanilanilanilanilanilanilanilanilanilanilaniSLANISLANISLANISLANISLANISLANISLANI!"

Esteban was the first to reach the pit garage. He was...not a happy bunny either. He got out of the car, took off his scarlet and navy helmet, and walked up to Mike.

"What is happen with car? I hit the gas on straights and...engine is not morning person."

"It's the turbocharger, Esteban. So sorry, the boys at Tickford sent a new unit, but it still lags like a bitch."

"But this track, this track is all straights! How can I score for team with no va va voom? Is outrage!" Esteban kicked a bit of tyre rubber. It bounced contentedly along towards the Archer garage.

"I understand, Steb. Look, there's not much we can do for this weekend, so I just want you to run this as a test session. Don't worry about getting lapped, if you see blue flags get the hell out of the way. Just keep it going, get miles on the clock, get us some good telemetry. When we get back to Ousevale, I'll bash the Tickford boys over the head till they give us a turbo that works."

Esteban sighed. "What about overtakes? I am to be racing, not testing. I want to get up the board!"

"I know, Steb, I know. Look, if you get the chance, if you can get a tow or someone else is running slow, go for it. Just understand I'm expecting a finish, don't do anything too crazy, K?"

"K, jefe. Guess is try again next time, si?"

"Si." Mike's hangdog expression suggested to Esteban that both men were just as pissed off about this situation as each other. Their quiet contemplation was soon broken, though, by Enu's car arriving. The Madesene got out of the car, wordlessly went to the back of the garage...and straight out of the garage altogether, slamming the door behind him.

"Shit," muttered Mike under his breath, "this conversation is going to suck."

[Nekoni]

"What am I doing wrong? Seriously, the hell is this!?" Alex Mayari was frustrated. She threw her helmet across the pit garage in anger, thankfully saving from being smashed by hitting a pile of tyres. "I shouldn't be this bad! I THOUGHT I had this one."

"That's your problem," Fatali responded. "It's one thing to THINK you have it. It's another to get out and do it, isn't it?" In a way, he was right...but this so nearly could have been her session. 15 minutes to go in the session, it was business as usual: she was sitting uneasily in 14th. However, despite a fairly haphazardly-done Turn of the Century, the rest of the turns were shockingly good for her. Somehow the first turn set her up in just the right way to tackle Hammerhead, blasting down the straight into the next hairpin. Down the hill, around T4 into the hairpin. Mayari dropped it into 1st gear, and caught the apex beautifully. Exiting onto the straight, the radio came through "projecting a low 1'31, keep it up!"

Three winding, tricky turns faced her next, the complex of Knock, Hold & Loose. Weaving the car from right to left, the first apex was hit, the second two were just missed. She wouldn't have had as good a run as she hoped, but it didn't detract much from what would have been a decent time. Only the tunnel comes next.

Tearing through the hill straight, unflummoxed by the quick right after Loose, Mayari's car shmashes 200mph upon the entry into the tunnel. This was going to take some cojones. Alex dropped the gear to 3rd as last as she could to enter into the double-apex. Nursing the car around the first turn, she made what would be a horrific mistake: she misjudged the turn, believing it to be a straight turn. Her mind off the next turn, she mistakenly believed that if she stuck to the inside of the line like glue, she'd be set up for the best possible exit onto the pit straight. What actually happened was that she was set up for the best possible way to get her front right wheel mangled into the wall.

Alex could hear the exasperated gasps of the pit crew as she skidded around the turn. Wrestling the steering wheel as hard leftways as it could go, the functioning three wheels just managed to straighten themselves out of the spin. Leaving the tunnel in a drift, the car's damage was clear - the wheel itself had been effectively crushed in half, and the tire, already stretched to its maximum, had shorn in half, spewing chunks of hot rubber over the tarmac. She wasn't going to get that fixed in a hurry, and her qualifying session was done.

Despite the yellow flags for the clean-up operation, there was still enough time for even more bad news: she had been overtaken during the final stages of the session, and would be starting in 16th.

"I know you're frustrated, and you broke the car, but I'm seeing progress. You had a lack in concentration, which before you think I'm going soft, trust me, we will have much, much stronger words if it happens again, but your perfomance is finally getting there. More of this, and we'll be in the points."

Later that night, Alex made the mistake of checking the news. The local press were not enamoured with her crash, and coupled with a lacklustre performance last race, the knives were out. "Miss Mayari has fallen from grace!" the top papers displayed in their sports pages. "Both the driver and the team are so far embarassing for Nekoni's image, and at the moment, it seems the question is not if it can get worse, but how deep the rabbit hole goes." Multiple blogs were complaining that the Grande Scuderia Nekoni team should have entered on their own merits, bringing their two drivers with them, complaining that Mayari shouldn't have been given the first driver on the base of her nationality, even so far as to suggest that Nekoni shouldn't have entered a team at all.

The challenge for Alex, then, is to prove her doubters wrong. Again.

[Vilita and Turori]

Cruisin eyes Audioslavian's Embarassment

Crossport Raceway, Audioslavia :: For Vilitan World Grand Prix Championship driver R. L. Cruisin, only one thing in the world could be better than winning the Vilitan Grand Prix. That would be winning the Audioslavian Grand Prix by besting a pair of McPahan drivers on their home turf.

That's exactly what R.L. Cruisin intends to do on Sunday. Cruisin will lead the field to green with McPahan drivers Alexander Lund and Matt Hingis in tow.

Cruisin has been fast off the truck as his purple and creme colored Frontiere Motors formula car set a new lap record of 1:30.929 in the Friday practice session. Cruisin about matched that speed in qualifying turning a near-record time of 1:30.944 to take the top spot, over a tenth of a second faster than Hingis and Lund in the McPahan rides.

The toughest bit is still ahead, however, as the Frontiere Motors team will have to be flawless on pit road - a factor not considered during the practice or qualifying sessions. While the purple phantom is fast on a lap by lap basis, the McPahan team is certainly the more experienced in major grands prix and will likely have the tactical edge over a Frontiere crew still learning the ropes.

It will be up to the experience Cruisin to overcome any mistakes the crew might make and fend off the home team drivers to come home with the upset in the land of the Bull.

[The Royal Barangay]

After being one of the slowest cars on Friday's practice, Rudolf and his team pondered on how to make the car faster. It was not a very big deal though, as he was just 0.63 seconds slower than the fastest guy R.L. Cruisin, who actually broke the lap record on his Frontiere car. He was told by the crew not to worry too much, as they intended to preserve the engine and the gearbox for the qualifying and race sessions.

The next day, Rudolf sat in his car and waited for the signal from his engineer to start his run. After sitting the first twenty minutes of the session, he was given a signal to start his run. "OK Rudolf, we need to preserve that engine, don't push yourself too hard over there."

"Roger."

And his first lap was a 1:32.348, followed up by 1:32.023, 1:32.234, 1:32.093 and 1:31.839. He was called to the pits and his car was returned to the garage, on standby mode. He looked at the timesheets, he was still slower than Asao, but not as much that he needed to be wary of losing his seat.

Thirty minutes to go, and with the same tyres that he used in the first run, Rudolf started his second run. Three laps was the maximum on that run, after which he pull over the pits and change tyres and run the last two laps of the maximum ten. His laps were 1:31.638, 1:31.588 and 1:31.772. Still slower than Asao's 1:31.294. He started to get serious after the race simulation pitstop as he was given the green light to push as hard as he can. His next lap was 1:31.302, just 0.008 slower than his teammate, and he seemed to run faster than his teammate when he spun near the Bunn Hill, costing him the lap. No damage was done to the car though.

His performance was good enough to start alongside his teammate at the fourth row of the grid. Points finish again? Very possible.

[The Glorious Han Chinese]

Max parked his car in the garage and climbed out. The technicians opened the engine cover and rushed to inspect it, only to be surprised by a swift glove-clad fist landing a punch on the engine. It was quickly followed by a yelp of pain, as Max had forgotten about the temperature of the engine, and scorched several fingers.
"Dammit!" He looked at a bench, where an ERS unit sat in pieces. "Is that my stuff?"
His engineer tossed a bag of ice at Max and said, "Yes. I'm sorry about this. The parts just came from the factory."
Max walked away, ignoring his engineer and sat on a stack of tires, away from the bustling team. He kicked the wall over and over again. He expected to be in a comfortable starting position, not lounging in tenth. It must have been those ENSADRINK drivers. Max remembered his surprise in the track, when his engineer was reciting the results to him, he almost missed his braking zone for the Hammertail. But what really ticked Max off was the consistent performance of his teammate. The ever beloved Alex Dimitrianov, the poster boy of Glorious Han motorsports. Something Max usd to be when he was rising in national junior formulae. But now the whole world knows that the rising star, Maxwell Song, was nothing more than a mediocre driver standing out from fields of bad drivers.
"Aye, Max. Feeling bad? Ah, but you shouldn't. I give you car and all you do is drive. It very easy. So all you need to do is to try harder."
Max looked up into the face of a large foreigner, the head of the technical department, Herman Fabel.
"Herman? What are you doing here?"
"I brought some stuff here, good stuff for next race. But either way, I saw you sitting here and I think, man he must be very angry at tenth place. Let me tell you, tenth place is good in WGPC. How many little children get into WGPC? Not a lot, so when you score points in your first WGPC race, it must be like standing on top of the world! My little son, he want to become racer too. Everyday, he say, daddy bring me to work and let me see Alex-"
"Thanks Herman, but I don't want to hear about Alex anymore." With that, Max rose and walked out the back, slamming the door behind him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vincent Liu turned at the sound of a slamming door. "Oh, it's him. Why does he always mope around like that? Just like a teenager. At least Alex doesn't do that. Would be a shame if there were to be a fallout between the Han and Mattijiana over the execution of their driver."
Max's engineer turned. "Ha, you wouldn't want to execute your best driver. And Max is just pissed off at Alex outperforming him."
"Duh, I knew that all along. Now back to work! Or off to the labor camps you go!"
The engineer's face whitened, and scurried off to somewhere out of the sight of the manager. Vincent turned back to the reult board. Alex was on his last lap, and made sixth. A solid position. But Frontiere was the one that caught his attention. Their first year, and their car just seems to be leaps and bounds ahead of SinoMotors. Perhaps I should do a little snooping, Vincent thought, many photographers would leap at the chance for a few hundred grand just for some high-resolution pictures. He turned and looked out the garage. A horde of photographers and journalists milled around, looking for an interview to steal. Vincent started thinking again. I still have a lot of money to get rid of. And there does seem to be an awfully large number of photographers outside. Perhaps he can hire around, say 50, and have them all take hi-res pictures of the cars of every team. And no one needs to find out who the pictures are for...

[Barunia]

Gil Spencer slapped his grease stained hand to his forehead in frustration. It was a good car - Gil knew that better than most - but right now it looked more like a wreck. Gil had the entire back assembly off and the engine in several pieces. So far, he could not find any problem with it, which was annoying. If only the drivers knew how it all worked. "teach a mechanic how to race, and we'd never have a problem." thought Gil. Both Lauren and Sayono had complained of problems with the acceleration. "It feels like I'm towing a fucking cathedral" was Lauren's turn of phrase. The problem was, she couldn't tell Gil more, meaning he was scratching his head. Sayono had giving him slightly more information, telling him that the problem seemed to be when she pressed down hard on the accelerator, and only above 100km/h. It sounded like a problem Gil had encountered before, so he had gotten under the car and pulled out the accelerator pedals and their connection to the engine. Nothing was wrong with them, so he'd taking his investigation further. The engine was in pieces, but it all seemed to be working in order. Gil ordered his team to double check anyway - no sense in not being thorough. Gil thought about what the problem could be. Maybe getting the power to the wheels was the problem. The mechanic groaned. That meant he'd have to pull the gearbox apart.

The problem with that was putting it all back together again. The race was less than 24 hours away, and he had to have the car up and ready to go before than. This was the number 1 car too; or the 52 car, depending on which way you looked at it. Sayono's vehicle, Archer's lead driver. She'd come dead last in practice, so Gil and the team had tinkered with the car, made a few adjustments. It had improved the situation slightly, but the underlying problem was still going on. So a more in depth investigation had been launched. What Gil had hoped would be a quick fix was quickly turning in to an all-nighter.

----
Lauren Ashburton was also struggling to sleep. She ran through the events of the last week in her mind. The first race in Liventia had been crazy. After signing with Archer, she'd jumped on a plane to Liventia, got off the plane, into a taxi, went straight to the racetrack and reported to Henry Baltimore. Less than two hours after she'd landed in Liventia, she was suited up and sitting behind the wheel of Archer's number two car.

The number 10 on the side was black instead of red - obviously it had been a rush job to get the sticker printed and on. It seemed appropriate, in a weird way; after all, Lauren's application had been so rushed that her own preference for a number had been missed on the paperwork.
Lauren wondered what number she might have chosen, if she'd remembered that she had the option. She'd never had the choice before. 97 was her Super Formula number, but that was Archer's choice not hers - it was the company founder's birthday. Domestically, it was 99, because Archer raced with number sequences from 70-80 and 95-99. Lauren had never thought about her own number before. 1st of May was her birthday, but she didn't really want to pick her number based off that. Besides, 15 was already taken. Maybe 16, the age she started racing…but that belonged to the Apoxian, Hingis. Of course, the point was moot. Someone at the WGPC organising body, seeing the blank space on her form, had assigned her the number 10, and that was that. Why exactly they'd chosen 10, she had no idea. She probably would never know.

That first race had been rough. Apart from some problems with the car, she was suffering the effects of jet lag. That caused her to lose concentration more than once, which apart from her causing some minor mistakes that let others pass her, caused her to spin off completely in the 39th lap, at the difficult section through turns 14-16. She got it back on the track, but there was no way she could make up the ground. If Victoria Gardner hadn't blown a tyre on the first corner of the race, Lauren would have come last. Still, she finished in 18th place, and six and a half seconds behind R.L. Cruisin in 17th, and a lap down on the leaders. Despite the poor finish, Lauren was optimistic. After all, she finished the race and didn't come last, which isn't bad when you're jet-lagged, tired, and starting from the pit lane of a track you've never driven, in a car you've had less than an hour's practice on.

Audioslavia had been much better. 16th and 13th in qualification, with a car that shakes every time she mashes the accelerator? Not that bad, and if Gil and the crew could work their magic, she might have a chance of some points. If she could only get some sleep, she might be ready for what she was considering her first proper world grand prix race.

[WGPC]

Cut-off for Sunday's Audioslavian Grand Prix

The Grand Prix of Audioslavia

Laps: 52
Conditions: Wet

Pos	Car	Name			Team		Time	Interval
1	70	Moisés Delgado		 1:22:47.433		
2	17	Ryan Harris-Jones	 1:23:10.331	+22.898	
3	1	Alexander Lund		 1:23:30.850	+20.519
4	18	Wayne Forrest		 1:23:36.464	+5.614
5	10	Lauren Ashburton	 1:24:18.918	+42.454
6	99	Rudolf Ibuna		 -1 Lap		LAP
7	39	Tyler Brooks		 -1 Lap		+21.388
8	29	Esteban Guilhermez	 -1 Lap		+3.438
9	52	Sayono Souzare		 -1 Lap		+15.171
10	24	Victoria Gardner	 -1 Lap		+11.145
11	64	Crimson LaRoja		 Ret. Lap 51
12	4	Riku Äijälä		 Ret. Lap 49

DNF	55	Asao Nadakei		 Ret. Lap 46
DNF	16	Matt Hingis		 Ret. Lap 45
DNF	24	Lovisa Landenberg	 Ret. Lap 43
DNF	14	Maxwell Song		 Ret. Lap 32
DNF	51	R.L. Cruisin		 Ret. Lap 23
DNF	15	Alex Dimitrianov	 Ret. Lap 23
DNF	74	Alexandra Mayari	 Ret Lap 9
DNF	11	Enu Noel		 Ret. Lap 5

Drivers' Standings

1	70	Moisés Delgado		Hansa-Nyrota Racing		43
2	16	Matt Hingis		McPahan Racing			25
3	17	Ryan Harris-Jones	Macllynlleth Clockwork Racing	19
4	1	Alexander Lund		McPahan Racing			18
5	99	Rudolf Ibuna		Team Dekijika-Tarogama		16
6	11	Enu Noel		Aston Tickford Racing		14
7	29	Esteban Guilhermez	Aston Tickford Racing		11
8	18	Wayne Forrest		Telaris Racing			10
9	10	Lauren Ashburton	Archer Motorsports		8
10	4	Riku Äijälä		Telaris Racing			6
11	39	Tyler Brooks		Macllynlleth Clockwork Racing	4
12	64	Crimson LaRoja		Frontiere Racing		3
13	52	Sayono Souzare		Archer Motorsports		2
13	14	Maxwell Song		SinoMotors Racing		2
15	24	Victoria Gardner	Scuderia Fuoco e Ghiaccio	1
16	74	Alexandra Mayari	Scuderia Fuoco e Ghiaccio	0
16	55	Asao Nadakei		Team Dekijika-Tarogama		0
16	24	Lovisa Landenberg	Hansa-Nyrota Racing		0
16	51	R.L. Cruisin		Frontiere Racing		0
16	15	Alex Dimitrianov	SinoMotors Racing		0

Constructors' Standings

McPahan Racing			43
Hansa-Nyrota Racing		43
Aston Tickford Racing		25
Macllynlleth Clockwork Racing	23
Team Dekijika-Tarogama		16
Telaris Racing			16
Archer Motorsports		10
Frontiere Racing		3
SinoMotors Racing		2
Scuderia Fuoco e Ghiaccio	1

[Krytenia]

Enu Noel, all in all, hadn't had a bad start. OK, so being at the back of the grid sucked, and yes, it wasn't a track that suited the Aston-Tickford particularly well, but the weather was levelling that particular field, and he was catching the Archer of Souzare up ahead. The Madesene tapped the brakes for the left-hand kink at Turn 4.

Nothing happened.

Well, that's not actually true. Something did happen. Enu had the misfortune of not quite being on the drier line; as the brakes were applied, the tyres found moisture rather than friction, and the car decided that straight on at high speed was a brilliant idea. Enu, of course, disagreed, and wrenched the steering wheel left to attempt to at least stay in the general region of the asphalt.

This...might not have been the best of ideas. The car didn't go as left as Enu wanted, and hit the gravel trap at an angle. The car did not agree with this angle.

And then the world went all spinny.

From a point of view of anyone who wasn't Enu Noel, the Aston-Tickford launched off the gravel trap sideways, and then barrel-rolled in the air, missing the rest of the reasonably narrow strip of gravel and rolling, bouncing, along the tarmac on the exit of Hammertail, sending shards of white, black, and orange carbon fibre all over the shop. The inevitable yellow flag, though, was the last thing on Enu's mind, which at this point was bouncing around the inside of his cranium.

Eventually, the car landed, thankfully right-side up, in the grass. Enu released his belt, took off the steering wheel, clambered gingerly out of what was left of his car, and walked groggily off the track.

Now I know what my laundry feels like, he thought, as the marshalls ushered him into a car that took him to the medical centre.

[Mattijana]

"That careless Bastard" said most of Alex Dimitrianov's garage.

Whether the insult was aimed at Alex or the man who had just been forced to retire alongside him, RL cruisin, was unknown-although knowing the slightly biased nature of the SinoMotors garage, probably at Cruisin. The two drivers had negotiated the chaos in the early stages of the race and we're now running with Cruisin in front, but closely followed by Dimitrianov. As they barrelled down to turn one, Cruisin missed his breaking point missing the apex and Alex saw his chance having made ground through the slipstream and braked for the inside.

Unfortuanately, his later braking only caused about fifty yards of aquaplaning before finding solid ground and so he skidded up to the middle of the corner before finally managing to turn in. The result was that neither driver was particularly in control. And by the time they reached the exit, the two were side by side.

As they swept round turn two, the same problem occurred. Dimitrianov tried to sweep round the outside but found little grip around the outside of the corner whilst Cruisin got massive understeer and speared into the side of the SinoMotors car breaking open the sidepod and snapping the wheel support on his own car. Both vehicles went spinning onto the grass eventually burying their noses in a nice solid tyre wall.

Neither team were particularly impressed with the other with Frontiere feeling that Dimitrianov didn't leave enough space when turning in and SinoMotors complaining that Cruisin just lost it and carelessly T-boned Dimitrianov. The truth was that neither car was really to blame in the tricky conditions, but that didn't stop either driver feeling pretty aggrieved when they got back to the garage.

For Dimitrianov, the crash was particularly upsetting. Two races had pastsed which both promised a decent result, but a brake failure in the first race and now this had cost him points. Still his less talented teammate led him in the championship.