World Grand Prix Championship season 17 [RP Thread]

[West-East Timor]

Baranburg Circuit,
Baranburg
West-East Timor

Linus, Anthonson, Nick Newman and Parvin Langer sat together after the test session was completed.

"So, what do you think?"

"I'd say Xiaopeng looks pretty strong. He'd be my favourite now. Rustom Ibuna would be good too, but since he is signed elsewhere already, not an option. Aley Dimitrianov did quite well in most sessions too. Harris-Jones and Liuyong Xu did disappoint sometimes, but, overall, I think they'd be solid choices too."

"What about Timo?"

"Yeah, well, he would be my favourite if he wasn't from West-East Timor too, and I know you prefer not to sign two drivers from the same nation. Obviously, that is influenced by me knowing him personally from WGP2."

"What do you think, Nick?"

"Oh I'm not too good at this, you know. But... Hmm... Xiaopeng won the race right? So he's obviously good. Ibuna drove the fastest lap, but since he apparently isn't an option... Yeah, I'd say go for Xiaopeng."

"There might be an issue with that, I suppose. He wants to be a lead driver, and that's obviously something we can not offer to him. He wouldn't be our second driver, he'd be equal with Mick. But yeah, I think he'd prefer a different position. Also, I think he was offered a seat at Bandai Angin.""

"Actually, I heard rumours they withdrew his offer to him, and are now offering the seat to Dimitrianov..."

"Are you fucking kidding me? I wa just about to decide to sign Dimitrianov!"

"Yes, I would have suggested that as well."

"He hasn't accepted yet, has he?"

"No, officially not at least."

"Then we will offer the open seat at Omni Racing to Alex Dimitrianov. He has to decide now, I suppose..."

"What if he prefers to go to Bandai Angin?"

"Then we'll have to choose between Xu and Harris-Jones."

[Mattijana]

Petrovijanka, Central Mattijana

Things were getting desperate for Alex Dimitrianov.

The Eelandii team test had gone pretty abysmally by his standards, he had been at the bottom end of the standings for the Badai Angin and Sinval tests, and despite a better showing in West-East Timor, he'd slipped vital places in the practice race.

His chances of a seat were slipping away. Having competed in the WGPC for the last four seasons, he was now staring down the barrel of a year on the sidelines, maybe even more.

That was an idea that Alex didn't want to entertain. He could slip back into Mattijanan domestic racing without a problem if he wanted of course. The SkladboLiga now had WGP3 accreditation that had bought with it international interest and a higher level of professionalism amongst its drivers and teams. It would never get anywhere close to recreating the buzz that he got every time he took his place on the starting grid for a Grand Prix race though. For a racing driver, there could be no greater thrill.

Perhaps if he desperately checked his emails again, there might be an offer from someone magically sitting there. To be fair to him, he hadn't checked for at least 24 hours. Maybe he was losing hope after all...

Alex's MattiPost inbox chugged into view. The email service wasn't too bad, but after getting used to using the webmail of other team's nations over the last couple of seasons, the basic page in front of him was a bit of a step down. For a country amongst the most socially developed in the world, computing was an area in which Mattijana was yet to make great progress.

After a minute watching the donut of doom rotate lethargically round the centre of his screen, a couple of new emails finally emerged from the depths of cyberspace.

And Alex's heart skipped a beat as he realised who they were from.

The bottom one had been sent over from Badai Angin, from Filindostani team on the grid. Normally he would have had to hold his breath whilst his email provider took an age to load the message, but mercifully the subject line told him exactly what he needed to know and exactly what he wanted to hear.

It was a job offer, and a number one job offer as well.

He held his head in disbelief. There was still the other email to check though. That one was from Omni racing, the West-East Timoran outfit. Alex had seen that it too had been a contract offer from them.

On further reading however, this one was a number two seat. He would have done anything for it 5 minutes ago, but now he had another offer as a number one on the table. Both looked like decent teams, but Alex was an experienced driver now. He didn't want to be an understudy.

He politely declined the offer from Omni.

That bought him back to the Badai Angin offer. Opening a reply box, he started tapping out his acceptance.

Message to: Rudolf Ibuna
Message from: adimitrianov@mattipost.co.mj
Subject: Re, Badai Angin driver's offer

Dear Mr Ibuna,

Thank you for the interest you have shown in securing my services as a driver for the coming WGPC season. I am delighted to accept.

I look forward to meeting you and the team over in Filindostan and being able to drive your car for the rest of the season, starting at the final pre-season test in Turori.

Once again thank you.

Alex Dimitrianov

Alex Dimitrianov accepts Badai Angin's offer to be their number 1 driver.

[Aboveland]

Edvin squeaks his shoes around the paddock, tapping his fingers with the Bic in his opposite hand. He points at every group of more than four people at work, or wrapping up their work, running the final checks before the test runs. Unlike Aada, he's confident in his ability to organize all the thumb-ups in his head, rendering his Bic quite useless. Terho, looking on at him, closes and spreads his hands into his gloves before tightening the wrist ends to fit him snugly. He pulls out his matte carbon helmet, to which he's taken both a liking and a dose of indifference, from his bag, and tears off one of the visors' layers before pulling out the loose straps from inside to slip it on. While it slides down his head, Edvin turns to face him from the pit wall and scurries in his direction. Terho opens his visor once the helmet is on, and Edvin's face is the first thing he sees. He smiles softly, but not in a friendly, playful way, rather seriously, slyly, confidently.

"Ready?" he asks, followed by a clonk to the helmet.

"Is the car?" asks Terho. He isn't annoyed by the cheery tap, but he's not moved by it either. Edvin nods frantically and blinks hard twice before licking his lips and replying.

"Yeah," he says. "This time for sure." He pulls out of his back pocket an anti-static bag, in it a tiny silver square, and with a thrust of his hand into the bag and a flick of his thumb reveals the blue silicon. "Here's the faulty chip."

Terho nods once, preserving the focus he's built up leading to the session. For the penultimate day of testing, after three sessions across two tracks where misfortune had chased him around to no end, he'd receded back into his previous, youthfully determined ways: isolation when possible, focus through quasi-meditation, and minimal talking. All he did lack was a sauna, but what's a driver who can't adapt? "Good," he replies, finally. "Pass me the HANS."

Once he's put on his neck brace he climbs into AGP 002 for the third time that weekend and straps himself in. He cracks his wrists by twirling his hands in circles a few times, then pushes in his knuckles, then clasps his hands together and does a figure eight motion before rubbing his palms and taking a deep breath. His focus is now almost impenetrable, complete.

"Here," he hears someone say, shoving a tablet into his face. "Oh, sorry," winces the voice as Terho jumps back. He takes the tablet in his hands and darts his eyes to where the arms are coming from. It's Aada, apparently sharing the same focus and delicacy as he is.

She continues after they've made eye contact. "Take a look at the final setup checklist and tell me if it's all in order. Should be." She crouches down, inches closer to the screen, and points at a few bullet points with her pinky finger. "The module was changed, too," she adds. "I suppose Edvin already told you though."

"Yeah," Terho replies to all the things he needed to reply to.

"Great." Aada takes the tablet back, but points up her finger to add: "before I go, a heads-up: there's still no way to manually reset the active aero while you're on track, but just so you know we've reverted the system to rely almost entirely on speed, throttle and gyro inputs, so it'll be pretty raw, straightforward and almost failproof. In any case, we're—well, Nortec is— seeing if we can get a remote control system to operate it from the paddock as well, while you're on track, according to what you say."

Terho almost doses off during the final report, but catches all of the information. He's never heard Aada say so much to him at once, one on one; he doesn't realize she's leaned over into the monocoque with her elbows gently poised on the headrest. Her eyes plead for a 'got it.'

"Got it," Terho says, finally. Aada gives him a thumbs up and taps the top of his helmet. Terho grunts quietly. As his race engineer rises, she shakes a finger in the air in a 'wrap it up' motion and orders the team to assemble to let the Abovian out and onto the track. He flips down his visor, turns on the ignition, fires up the engine and grips his steering wheel, twirling his fingers around the back and into the grip holes. Show time, he thinks, the flutters and whooshes and roars of the engine behind him flaring up and idling before he accelerates gradually off onto the pit lane. Once he crosses the green light at the end and waits for the Chase Cutter of Ryker Lane to zoom by, he drops the pit limiter and accelerates out onto turn one. This was the moment of truth for his troubled AGP 002.

For the opening laps he's instructed to take it easy and get his braking and power points clear while the team reviews the aerodynamic systems' performance. Once they're sure its working properly, he can set off on his flying laps. Surely enough, to the relief of both him and the team, the winglets are operating as designed, flexing downwards and back under acceleration, raising on braking, and molding to the line the car takes around corners. And immediately, even at his reduced pace, Terho is flying, breaking the top 10 times and his previous best on his first full lap. After three acclimatization laps, Aada radios Terho the okay to floor it. He turns the engine map to 3, fuel mix to rich, and hammers the throttle out of turn 15, going wide on exit and screaming down the pit straight. He grips his steering wheel again, a little tighter, and blinks hard.

Terho takes turn one almost flat, with a lift right before turning in, the adaptive aero gluing the car to the tarmac. At the apex he brakes and slows for the tighter turn two, his body lunged forwards with the car's immense braking force. He barely clips the inside of the turn as he rockets back onward to turn two, an increasing radius sweeping left hander which tightens quickly into turns three and four. The machine, however, is unbothered, and makes the most of its four wheel steering to turn on a dime around the tightest bit of the track. Towards turn five the engine wails again at its peak, its whistling turbos fluttering and whooshing as they come on and off, and he makes it through both five and six with ease. Seven, eight and nine were where he'd felt the worst effects of the faulty aero, but this time around, his legs feeling the asphalt scrape against the skidplate, he was absolutely on rails through the line. On the braking for turns 9 and 10, he sighs a little, relieving the tension the intense sensations of finally driving the car in anger (while he wasn't racing, he was truly angry) produce in him. He's slightly eager out of the twistier section and fishtails a little before the right-left of 12 and 13, but regains his lost time with a late braking into 13, the pressure of his brakes instructing the aero to activate to its fullest capacity and slow the car down almost as if it were a fighter jet. The motors moving the winglets barely whir or wince, and activate exactly on queue. Aada giggles, but doesn't transmit the message.

A dab of the brakes before turn 15 and he powers on down again to complete his lap. 01:35.330 flashes his screen. In the paddock, whoops of joy and success. On the team radio, "fucking fuck hell shit yeah!" says Terho. "We're back baby!"

Yet Edvin is quick to intervene, in a sudden, drastic change of character. "That's good, Terho. P2. Keep your head down, run a few race simulation laps like the ones we missed last time. Head down, keep pushing. We're on to something." Terho is taken aback a little, but replies affirmatively, with confidence and a surge of passion and excitement.

When the session is over, he rolls the car back into the garage and shuts off the engine with a satisfying, throaty grumble. Everyone, including the perpetually busy iBen Toralmintii, is in the paddock waiting for the first AGP car to sign off for the day. He can see, through the blue polarized tint of his visor, everything from golf claps to fist pumps. iBen smiles his gentle, proud-of-you, proud-of-us smile. He clambers out of the car slowly but as quick as he can manage and slips off his helmet and gloves, chucking them inside and the whole package in his duffel bag before pulling off his balaclava, ruffling his moist, compact hair, and chucking the cloth into the mix. A tap on his shoulder is followed by a voice, and it's Edvin. "Nice job," he says.

"And not even 100%," Terho adds.

Edvin nods, smiling wearily and with precaution. "That's good," he replies. "I'm so fucking tired," he says, rubbing his eyes. "Go freshen up, because you smell like shit, and we'll pack everything up and hit the beds. We leave for Eelandii tomorrow night." Terho grimaces. "Yeah," continues Edvin. "But we'll get there with enough time to get things properly prepped." He lowers his voice. "It's iBen's home track and it'll be a source of pride for both him and the team. And you like that track too. Wanna make the most of it."

"Yeah, okay," Terho says dismissively, the fatigue setting in as the adrenaline high begins to fade. He slings his duffel bag around his shoulder and begins walking towards the showers, looking back at his team busy like worker ants around their laptops, tablets and notebooks. iBen, again, is missing, making his way towards his own team.

The shower head right above him and expels water with the most indulgent pressure, and Terho sighs in relief as the water rushes down his body, making its way down from the back of his neck and putting his hairs on end as the temperature rises. He froths and kneads at his head firmly to form a thick soap afro and puts his face against the incoming water stream to rinse off his hair. For the first time in that weekend, he unclenches his jaw, relaxes his hands and releases the tension in his shoulders. It was just one test, just one lap, just one day, but it had finally been the start of something great. He could breathe easy, knowing the car was quick, knowing he was quick, and knowing he had all the cards in his hands to win.

And yet he knew, most importantly, Edvin's wise words were to stay in his head, present and pinned:

Head down, keep pushing. We're on to something.

[WGPC]

CUTOFF

for Pre-season Practice at Eelandii Grand Prix Course

[WGPC]

Week 3: Practice

Conditions:      	Dry
Lap Record:      	00:01:22.409
Session Length:	180 minutes
Nation:         	TUR
Circuit:        	Eelandii Grand Prix Course

Drivers have 180 minutes to complete as many laps of the track as they like.

POS #   DRIVER                         FASTEST LAP     BEHIND LEADER		
 1 33 ▍Jai Kardaeri                	00:01:22.538	00:00:00.000
 2 51 ▍RL Cruisin                  	00:01:22.541	00:00:00.003
 3 18 ▍Taylor Blake                	00:01:22.562	00:00:00.024
 4 20 ▍Mick Schramm                	00:01:22.566	00:00:00.029
 5 56 ▍Terho Talvela               	00:01:22.598	00:00:00.060
 6  7 ▍Vijay Tripathi              	00:01:22.628	00:00:00.090
 7 29 ▍Esteban Guilhermez          	00:01:22.719	00:00:00.181
 8 15 ▍Tabita Novax                	00:01:22.751	00:00:00.214
 9 22 ▍Jasmin Kranjska             	00:01:22.778	00:00:00.240
10 71 ▍Rustom Ibuna                	00:01:22.794	00:00:00.256
11 17 ▍Evdaden Carnétier           	00:01:22.927	00:00:00.389
12 14 ▍Sigur Bjarnason             	00:01:23.021	00:00:00.483
13 63 ▍Dalia Dahl                  	00:01:23.116	00:00:00.579
14 77 ▍iBen Toralmintii            	00:01:23.205	00:00:00.668
15 41 ▍Jean Mercer-Daly            	00:01:23.242	00:00:00.704
16 64 ▍Carsten O'Rourke            	00:01:23.379	00:00:00.841
17 47 ▍Erica Okumura               	00:01:23.381	00:00:00.843
18  3 ▍Darius Castellammare        	00:01:23.480	00:00:00.942
19 49 ▍Benjamin Talison            	00:01:23.496	00:00:00.959
20 42 ▍Alex Dimitrianov            	00:01:23.757	00:00:01.219
21 27 ▍Gregori Krupin              	00:01:23.803	00:00:01.266
22  1 ▍Jessica Franssen            	00:01:23.958	00:00:01.420
23 94 ▍Ryker Lane                  	00:01:24.154	00:00:01.616
24 52 ▍Sayono Souzare              	00:01:25.768	00:00:03.230

[Ethane]

Wesley Garret listened intently. He had his ideas of what he wanted to offer Tyra and Solymok Tyres, but wanted to hear their ideas before he committed to anything or put anything down on paper.

He hadn't expected much from the offer, previously considering this just a speculative effort to get Tyra a seat on some team. How he had been wrong. Solymok had come in with great plans and strong support for their driver, willing to commit to a large sponsorship deal - even larger with Tyra on the team. He was still suspicious about the arrangement between Tyra and Solymok Tyres. But was this deal too tempting for him?

He looked at his computer screen. Two documents open - one accepting the offer and one rejecting it. The dotted line at the bottom ready for a signature. He opened the tab and hit print on the document he wanted.

''Kristian, Tyra...'', he looked up at them, a serious look plastered across his face. He grabbed the sheet he had just printed out - one for each of them.

''As you can see, we are willing to commit to working in partnership with you, both Solymok Tyres and Tyra Tabuso.'' An elated sigh. ''While Tyra will be accepted as Fireline's other driver, and we will accept the Solymok offer from you, we would like to enquire about the relationship between you two. This isn't because we fear anything wrong, but we need to carry out due vigilance to ensure there is no corruption and that we are not in the wrong according to Ethani law.'' He grabbed another document out from the draw beneath the desk.

''There are a number of things that we will need from you before you properly start. These include documents on the contract and relationships between Solymok Tyres and Tyra Tabuso, as well as address history, income, and other documents related to previous employment as well as anything else that may be relevant that you feel needs to be brought forward.'' He hands over the document.

''You will also need to fill out and sign this, which admits the legality of your employment with Fireline and your right to work with and in partnership with the Fireline Independent Racing Association. We're sorry about the hassle, but this is required by Ethani law for this partnership to work. We can offer any support you need as well as people with knowledge of Ethani law to ensure everything goes through as quickly as possible. This process should only take a matter of a few days. In the meantime, we can get you all prepared and start your driving around here before we head out for the season'. He looked across at the calendar. There was plenty of time before the season.

''Soon, you'll also be able to meet the other driver who will be racing with you in Fireline - Ben. He's a great lad, I'm sure you'll love him''.

[Mattijana]

WGPC 17: What to take away from testing

By Sara Kovacevic, WGPC Correspondent.

With the conclusion of the final pre-season test in Turori, our next look at the cars and competitors of the WGPC will be at the Dashoze Circuit for the season-opening Grand Prix of Hodori.

The mood will be a much different one there, with the laid-back atmosphere of teams tinkering with their car's setup and drivers getting laps under their belt replaced with a bitterly competitive desire to go as fast as possible without crashing or breaking down.

Testing is notoriously difficult to make any reliable conclusions from. Many teams get better between testing and the opening race, many choose to hide their true pace and some inexplicably seem to get worse.

Often though, testing results can provide a reasonable indication of who is going to fare well and who isn't. I've had a cautious poke around the timesheets to see who might be at the sharp end and who will be languishing at the rear of the WGPC tail.

Mattijana's record turnout for the first race of a WGPC season, confirmed by Alex Dimitrianov's signing for the Filindostani Badai Angin team yesterday, will be looking to build upon MRT's constructor's championship victory last year in what should be a hugely exciting season for the multiverse's premier racing league.

Same Again for MRT?

The Mattijana Racing Team have built a reputation for building technically excellent and highly consistent machines over the last few years and that trend seemed to have continued over the 5 sessions of pre-season.

MRT fared very well at the three sessions in Mattijana at their home track, the Kopylov InternazionRing. The Kopylov is a track that requires a decent chassis and based on their results, Johan Struna and co have come up with another one. The final session was especially impressive, with Sigur Bjarnason going fastest of everyone across all three sessions and new signing Gregori Krupin placing 4th, less than a tenth of a second behind his teammate.

But whilst the defending champions have produced some ominous results in their own back yard on a friendly track, things have looked a little more average elsewhere.

The final test in Eelandii yielded only a 12th place for Sigur Bjarnason and 21st for Gregori Krupin with most of the time lost in the more straight-based first and third sectors. So despite promises of a new and improved engine for this year's championship, it would appear that any progress made has not significantly lifted the MRT up the grid.

That may not be a major loss though. MRT won the championship last year with a pretty abysmal record at speed-heavy circuits and they still look decent everywhere else. There is certainly room for one of their rivals to sneak in however. The Mirrors cars both performed well in Turori whilst Omni also looked promising.

Kranjska Finding Pace

After two years having to wait for a starting seat in the WGPC, bright young talent Jasmin Kranjska has finally got one. The 23 year-old will race for the SinVal team after the former engine provider to MSA-SinVal formed a breakaway venture.

That follows a pretty successful half-season last year in which the Puljankan rose to 11th despite her lack of races relative to her competitors. She seems to have followed on from that promising start too, finishing third in the final Kopylov test and coming 9th in the Eelandii test. She has also finished well ahead of her teammate Dahlia Dahl from Eastfield Lodge, who claimed a win in the Olympic race, in two out of the three tests she has participated in, showing that driving round in circles is quite different to driving round proper corners.

MSA-SinVal struggled last season, but there are hopes for an improvement this time around. The change from a joint venture to a single one should help coordinate the car's engineering and a fresh-faced driver line up will inject some fresh enthusiasm. Whether Kranjska can mount a challenge for the top 5 is a different question.

Sandbags at Dawn?

One of the mysterious and frankly annoying parts of testing is having to decifer who is genuinely running on full whelly and who is hiding their pace, presumably to laugh at the media when we try to make bold predictions from testing results and they turn out to be completely wrong.

Fortunately, we've (touch wood) got better at working them out though and our prime suspects this year are Nexus Racing.

Jean Mercer Daly and teammate Ryker Lane found themselves higher up during the first three tests whilst everyone was still running at lower pace themselves, but have settled down to the back of the leaderboard in the final two events. On a combined leaderboard of all three tests in Mattijana compiled by Filindostani analysts, the two Nexus drivers found themselves only 13th and 22nd. Even in Eelandii where the circuit favours the setup of the Chase Cutter, the two could only place 15th and 23rd.

There are two explanations for this. The first is that Nexus were already running at full capacity in the first three tests and couldn't match everyone else's pace when the other teams turned the wick up. The second is that they were deliberately running way below their true pace by setting their best times on heavy fuel loads, slower tyres or with the engine turned down. Given the team's infrastructure and the talent and experience of their driver lineup, the first scenario would be surprising, so we would expect the team to find some pace come Hodori.

Franssen Struggling?

Defending constructor's champions MRT seem to have picked up where they left off, but the defending driver's champion has not been hitting the heights expected of her.

Of course, we should be cautious once again. She could just be doing the same as Nexus (probably) are to disguise her pace from rivals, whilst allowing new teammate Vijay Tripathi to do the headline runs. The disparity between the two VMR drivers has raised eyebrows though. In Turori, Franssen was 1.4 seconds behind the pace of Jai Kardaeri whilst Tripathi's fastest effort was less than a tenth behind. Across the Kopylov tests, Franssen set only the 20th-quickest time whilst Tripathi found himself half a second up the road in second.

That surely is too much of a gap to be down to driver mediocrity alone, especially considering that Franssen has redefined what is possible in the WGPC during her short time in the sport. It might still be something to keep an eye on though and if the star of last season really is struggling to find her rythm, it may open the championship up to some unexpected competitors.


All these times and places mean nothing in terms of points or prizes, but they may provide at least a rough indication of how events in Dashoze will play out. The circuit layout is arguably the best on the calendar, although unlike the Kopylov, it does favour acceleration and power over technical expertise.

Anything could happen and it probably will.

[West-East Timor]

Eelandii Grand Prix Course
Turori

The evening before the final pre-season test, Mick was meeting with Linus Anthonson in a restaurant near the race track. He saw Linus sitting at a table and sat down opposite to him.

"Ah, there you are."

"Yes I am."

"So... what do you think of the tests so far?"

"It's going pretty good for us so far, no? The car feels great out there. Pretty balanced, as it is supposed to be. I can't wait to finally race it."

"Yeah, I've had a pretty good impression too. Let's hope it'll remain this good during the season."

"What about our second driver? I heard you offered the seat to Dimitrianov, but well..."

"Yes, I know, he signed for Bandai Angin..."

Anthonson was interrupted when Kamil Waller appeared in the restaurant.

"Kamil, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I thought we'd have a second driver by now, and I'd have something to do. But you let those Bandai Angin bastards snatch Dimitrianov away from us. And since thus I still don't have anything to do, I thought I could go eat something."

"Can you stop complaining at once? We will have two drivers for the race."

"And who are you planning to sign?"

"Ryan Harris-Jones. I will make him a contract offer soon."

"Harris-Jones? He raced in WGPC some years ago and did pretty bad, no? You want to sign him."

"He seems to be a pretty decent driver, and I'm sure he'll do well this year."

"You're a bit too confident."

"Well who would you like me to sign?"

"I don't know, but..."

"I should sign Liuyong so we need a Chinese speaking race engineer and I have a good reason to fire you."

"You would fire me?"

"If you keep that attitude up, certainly."

"Well, try to sign Harris-Jones soon enough so he doesn't go somewhere else too."

"You know what?"

Linus Anthonson took a laptop out of the bag he had with him.

"I'm gonna write the offer right here, so you can't complain."

To: Ryan Harris-Jones
From: Linus Anthonson
Subject: Contract Offer

Dear Mr. Harris-Jones,

I would like to offer you a seat at Omni Racing for the coming WGPC season. You will officially be our second driver, but factually we will treat you equally with your teammate, Mick Schramm. Also, if there is someone you would want to be your race engineer, let us know. I'm looking forward to hopefully working together with you soon.

Best Regards,
Linus Anthonson
Team Principal Omni Racing

"Wait, you'd also consider firing me if he wants someone else?"

"Perhaps."

"Well fuck you too."

"Errm. So. Well. What do you all think you're gonna eat."

"Nothing here."

With that, Kamil Waller left again.

[Vilita and Turori]

Kardaeri, Eelandii VTGP top the charts at final Pre-Season Test

Eelandii Grand Prix Course, Eelandii, Turori :: While iBen Toralmintii was busy working with his Tropicorp Racing Aelund team to fund the perfect long-run setup tweaks to the #77 Tropicorp / Nortec machine, the two drivers he had spoken with during the pre-season about driving his Race Eelandii Vilita and Turori World Grand Prix Motorworks machines were topping the leader board. Only one of which was driving for the Vilitan and Turorian team, and it was not the Vilitan but instead Jai Kardaeri. Kardaeri, the all-time Lap Record holder at the Eelandii Grand Prix Course would certainly not have been a surprise to see atop the leaderboard... five seasons ago, but the fact that the Starblaydi driver could scrub off the rust and return to the top of the pack so quickly had some media outlets talking. Some had pegged iBen Toralmintii's Race Eelandii Vilita and Turori World Grand Prix Motorworks as a mid-pack team at the start of the season and even Toralmintii himself opted to drive for the more established Tropicorp Racing Aelund team instead of his own Eelandii, Turori based outfit. Instead, Race Eelandii VTGP were one of just two teams to place both of their drivers inside the Top 10 at the final open test session of the World Grand Prix Championship Pre-Season, with Jai Kardaeri atop the board with a fast lap of 1:22.538 and Filindostani driver Rustom Ibuna 0.256 seconds behind with a best lap time of 1:22.794. The only other team to post two drivers in the top 10 was Starblaydi-based Mirrors Racing with Vilitan driver R.L. Cruisin leading the way with the second fastest time in the Pre-Season test just 0.003 seconds behind Kardaeri in the Eelandii VTGP.

Prior to the testing at the Eelandii Grand Prix course, Race Eelandii VTGP officially unveiled their two race liveries for the new season with both of their drivers bringing personal sponsorship into the fold. For Jai Kardaeri it was in the form of the Ozuwara Corporation, a true Starblaydi Zaibatsu looking to provide some support to their countries most famous driver. On the #71 Dart powered machine of Rustom Ibuna would be Puroll, Filindostan's leading producer and distributor of house and industrial cleaners.

Both sponsors appear on the nose of the vehicle under the numbers as well as on the front wing of their representing drivers car.

[Former Citizens of the Nimbus System]

Forest Cross Raceway, Vertress, Rainier, Esmerel
11th of March

“Just keep this going, Ryker.”

“Data’s good?”

There is a pause. “Gertrude’s eyes are about thirty centimetres away from her screen. She has a manic grin on her face, she’s got her hands clasped together and she’s speaking animatedly to who I believe is Victoria. I think that that is a safe assumption.”

Ryker laughs. “Good to know. I’ll carry on, then.” The Nimban drums his hands on the wheel, letting his concentration lapse for the feeling of motion to flow through him. For a few moments, he feels the air rush around him, the force pushing him back into his seat fading as his Chase Cutter accelerates to its mightiest speed. The radiant blue surrounds him, as does the whirr of the car beneath him. He closes his eyes, experiencing.

Then he opens them again. He nudges at the brakes, inclining the wheel into 24 and then pulling hard the other way into 25, letting the dynamic thrust from the Chase Cutter’s second Imagination convertor slingshot him through the turn. Ryker focusses now, keeping the car first steady through the long, long Balcony turn.

Then, mind straining with the steady, careful, minutely precise adjustment, he slowly pulls the car outwards.

Then inwards again.

Then outwards.

Then inwards.

At last, relief sweeps over the Nimban as he draws the car through the final stages of the turn. Ryker breathes. “How’s that?”

“Well-done. I’d imagine that you’ve covered the majority of the… You have indeed covered the vast majority of the track’s extremities. Well done.”

“Mapped telemetry?”

“Mmm. I should think that you’ve done more than enough.” There is a pause. “Yes, that will be. Feel free to come in now.”

Ryker lets out another breath, nodding, as he draws near to the pit lane. Think I need to.

His mind relaxes as the car slows; then it wanders. Imagination, it’s a pity that I’m not going to be going at it at full speed here this season. The Centrifuge and Balcony… Even with the changes before the latter, there’s really very little like them on the calendar. Even back home… Still, it’s Jean’s track. He should be doing the stress testing here.

The car draws back into the garage, angling itself and reversing with all the precision of an automaton into the space cleared amongst the bustle. Ryker smiles, levering himself up over the DIADEM and then gliding over to Martin. “How is it?”

“The signs are positive, Victoria tells me.” Martin gazes at his screen, then turns it to Ryker, lips curling upwards into the gentlest of smiles.

“She did say that anything like this is difficult.” Ryker recalls her words. “Simultaneous fix on the car and the Imagination… Difficult to code.”

Martin doesn’t react to that – or perhaps his smile deepens a little. “The location does seem to be consistent; it is arriving in the right place, in spite of your weaving.” He takes up a tablet, showing Ryker as he taps at it, bringing up a line graph not unlike that showing a digital signal – all up and down between two distinct levels. “The current task is ensuring that that delivery of Imagination to the car is constant. The sensors indicate that at the moment it’s ‘stuttering’, with short bursts of teleportation rather than a single, constant stream. As of now, randomness and the car’s internal reservoir seem to be smoothing the flow. Still, Victoria has informed me of her wish to resolve it quickly.”

That’s her, alright. “Ah, no rush. Car still felt great, even if I wasn’t pushing it. Rear’s so much more stable through the long corners than last year. Need to thank Vance for those new endplates.” Ryker nods to himself, then looks back at his race engineer. “You want to go discuss the…”

He trails off, seeing past Martin to a live feed of the session. One of the frankly gorgeous TRÆ cars sits, impotent, at the trackside. The camera zooms to its driver – his body tense, his visor firmly down. The black helmet only confirms what Ryker thought he had seen from the number on the car.

“Actually… Could we do that in a few minutes? Think I should be somewhere.”

---

Ryker half-hops, half-strides through the garage door. Terho…

The Abovian driver had been as his motions had suggested: curt, voice laced with irritation – loathing too, perhaps. Imagination, please don’t do what I did in my first few races.

I could – should – intervene, he thinks, nodding to the woman with shaded gaze, leaning on the wall beside the portal, as he passes through. Carefully, he rapidly qualifies, and only if it seems to get worse. Keep a watchful eye. He clasps his hands together, decision affirmed. The negative energy fades, positive energy rising to replace it. Keep a watchful eye.

Nexus Racing HQ, Crossbay Circuit, Nimbus Bay, the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System
16th of March

“And round the final corner she comes – Olivia Stone, taking back to back victories here in her home city with the Shimmerstream running alongside her! One of the youngest drivers in the competition, still studying at the University of the Second City, and she’s already won two races in the third tier of the World Grand Prix series!”

“Well-deserved.” Ryker leans back, smiling at the projection. “That was a masterclass in defensive, strategic driving. Jean’d be proud.”

“You think?” Victoria turns her head away from Ryker’s wall, hauling her leg back up onto the bed as she inclines her gaze towards him. “Tim’s watching this, for sure. With these past couple of weekends… Well, I wouldn’t put it past him. You’re not leaving, I know, but if Jean does and Rebecca or even Janne moves up, there’d be a place…”

Ryker frowns. “I don’t think that Jean’s going to leave – I hope not, anyway.” He matches Victoria’s gaze, smiling. “He does seem pretty intent on breaking some records before he goes.”

Both turn away, back to the images, as the race comes to its end and the results flash on screen. “Well, Plutarch still shouldn’t be too worried. That buffer he has is nice.”

Victoria raises her eyebrows at that, a little incredulity reaching into her voice. “Wouldn’t be so sure about that. Still… What, a hundred and sixty-eight points left if someone wins all the races left?” She grins, poking Ryker in the ribs – gently, barely enough to register. “More than enough for Celica to come back.”

Ryker laughs. “Hey, I get it, I get it. She doesn’t want to be a symbol, you’ve reminded me. She’s just got that combination of determination and inventiveness… It’s awesome.”

“Never doubted that.” Victoria rubs at his shoulder, then swings herself into standing on the floor. “Now, come on. Testing in a few hours.” She raises an arm. “To our stations!”

“Don’t overload yourself, alright? You have a team for a reason.”

She pauses, pursing her lips; then she gives something between a nod and a tilt of the head, her smile returning. “Gotcha.”

[Filindostan]

Badai Angin Tim Headquarters
Yogyakulta, Pelita Raya Island, Filindostan

After the confirmation of Alex Dimitrianov as the last signing for Badai Angin, the team prepared for its official launch prior to the last pre-season testing at Eelandii in Turori, just weeks after Alex partook in a private testing session for the Eelandii VTGP team, which seats ultimately went to Jai Kardaeri and Rusty Ibuna. The paint job for the two cars was done, and along with Alex who just arrived that day from Petrovijanka, was Carsten O'Rourke, with Rudolf Ibuna, Eko Wayudi Pratama, and Bryant Gambal, who just came from the testing session at the Kopylov InternazionRing via a private jet from Petrofilindo.

"All set for the launch?" Rudolf asked the personnel at their Yogyakulta base, upon arrival. "We'd like you to introduce to our drivers for this season, Alex Dimitrianov, and Carsten O'Rourke." Rudolf proudly announced the duo, showing them to the working personnel at the base, followed by a series of clapping hands. The team principal then showed them around the factory, where the car's chassis is being made, and to another building which houses the team's powerplant. Assisted by several Ajian engineers who worked on the previous Kissan Motorsport team, the engine was proudly made in-house with similar technology with its predecessor, the KS01, which would have been used by this year's chassis, the prototype KS02, but the marque's sale to the current Badai Angin led to the evolution of the prototype to the BAP001, with the final livery shown in their team launch tomorrow.

After the tour of the factory, Rudolf showed them to their motorhome that they will use for the several rounds of the season, and lastly to a village near the office where two houses where the two drivers can stay while avoiding the paparazzi and the media, complete with a Badai Angin J2293, one of the flagship cars of the company, for each of them.

"Okay, I'll let you two check the houses. They are already fully furnished, so let me know if there are issues need to be fixed for that. See you tomorrow night then." He said before letting them go.

Arena Olahraga Yogyakulta
Yogyakulta, Pelita Raya Island, Filindostan

The time has come for the official launch of the BAP001, the challenger of Badai Angin Tim Motorsport to this season's WGPC 17 season. Unlike last season's KISMO team launch where parts of the Joshuyo Square streets were closed to the public for the grandish launch of the KS01, the team decided to have a simple launch event in the main arena of Yogyakulta, one which saw some basketball teams in the multiverse play in the Silver Edition of the International Basketball Championships.

With no other suitable venue in which the launch can be done, only the arena's lower box and the floor area were open to spectators, and around 2,000 of them flocked the arena for the launch. After a two hour intermission and some free concert from 6 to 8 PM, the lights started to dim again for the team's introduction, which started with some techno music, before finally showing the logo of the team, basked in aqua blue and red:

After the logo reveal shown in the screens, Rudolf graced the stage for the opening remarks. He showed a slideshow of the Badai Angin's history and the current crop of driver and team sponsors that will grace the car come the first race in Hodori:
- Yogyakulta Tourism Board, the city's organization that mainly focuses on the tourism and beautification of Yogyakulta, which bares plans to make a new airport and a technology park to be built near the Yogyakulta International Circuit
- Cepat, oil and fuel brand from Petrofilindo, which will also sponsor the first Filindostani Grand Prix at Round 7 of the WGPC.
- Descension, a local BPO company which focuses on delivering different technologies. Most of the teams' engineers and support staff of the team were outsourced by this company, and thus its logo are incorporated in the car.
- Jaganya, a Filindostani food and nutrition company, carrying over their sponsorship from the KISMO team last season.
- Solymok, a Gergarian tyre company supplying the team's tyres for at least three WGPC seasons.
- Kirola, an Audioslavian sportswear company, sponsoring Carsten O'Rourke.

He thanked the sponsors first before announcing the launch of the car, in which a car covered in blue clothing was presented. But not before announcing the two drivers that will be driving for this season:
- Alex Dimitrianov (#42), Mattijanan WGPC veteran, who started his career at SinoMotors Racing, and had racing stints at MRT, Fireline, and recently, McPahan Racing. Currently has two race wins under his belt and five podium finishes.
- Carsten O'Rourke (#64), Audioslavian rookie, who impressed at the WGP3 Audioslavia series last season and made his jump to WGPC competition.

The two drivers, along with Bryant Gambal and Eko Wayudi Pratama, helped unravel the car beneath the blanket, with the raucious applause from the spectators:

The team held a press conference after the launch session, with several questions directed to Rudolf answered by the team principal. Several questions that came his way was regarding the current contract the Audioslavian has with the team, and the team's attempt to sign Vangazi hotshot Xiaopeng Jang.

Journalist: We have information that the contract Carsten O'Rourke have with the team is not a full season contract, would you want to expound more on this?
Rudolf: I would like to keep the contract details of our drivers remain confidential, though we evaluate the driver's performance with the team and decide should we keep them or find alternatives, though I do not want to dive deep to that.

Journalist: According to our sources, you attempted to sign the best rookie last season, Jang Xiaopeng. Was there any reason why this never materialized?
Rudolf: I admit we offered him a ride for this season, and was confident a deal can be struck by the time we come to Eelandii for the third test. It was my decision to pull the plug on the deal, and I apologize to him that I did it, I wanted to have two cars at the final pre-season test, and decided to offer it to another driver. It was entirely my decision, and I'm prepared to take full responsibility for it.

Journalist: It seems that you don't have exclusive usage of tyres for this season, as we have heard that another Esportivan team will be supplied with the same rubber as your team. Any thoughts on this?
Rudolf: I'd like to actually have another team using the same tyres as us. I'm not speaking for Solymok or some sorts, but I believe they will be happy with more data to improve their product and that will help both teams in the long run as well.

Journalist: The latest news is that former Ibuna-Gambal Racing driver, Tyra Tabuso, is rumored to sign with Fireline as part of some sort of a deal. Any comments?
Rudolf: I'd wish her luck for this season, if this rumor is true. We had plans for her for this season on our junior team, but when opportunities elsewhere arise, you should be ready to take them. That's what I failed to do when I was offered a private test session at McPahan some seasons ago and failed to take opportunities to help my former teammate win the WGPC13 title.

Journalist: Had you wished to sign your son for this season?
Rudolf: I'd rather not to go to details with that, but whatever decisions he make, I wish him luck and I hope him well.

Journalist: Where do you put yourselves this season?
Rudolf: We just want a good season, avoiding car problems, and finishing the race with the car intact. I honestly want to have a finish better than seventh, as with our predecessor last season. A sixth place in the championship is already an achievement for us.

Journalist: Which teams do you think will contend for this season's constructors' championship?
Rudolf: I actually want to include ourselves to the conversation. But in case that doesn't happen, probably MRT, TRAE, VMR, and Nexus will be the four to duke it out. MRT, we know, are a team always in contention, from the times of Franssen, to Talvela, and the two rookies helping them to the title last season. TRAE with the nostalgic lineup of iBen and Terho, VMR, with the drivers' champion, and Nexus who stood pat and bringing more innovation and cutting edge technology to the table.

Journalist: Who is your bet for the drivers' title come the finale at Audioslavia?
Rudolf: Well I can name three drivers: the two of my drivers for this season, and Rusty. Who wouldn't want his child to do well this season?

[Liventia]

RHJ looked up from his laptop. There was no doubt he was happy to have received an offer of a drive, but he was slightly confused. Matthew Portland, the two-time world champion, had been acting as his agent this season while the young driver tried to find a new team. Why had this offer not come through Matt?

His train of thought was interrupted by his phone buzzing. "MATTHEW PORTLAND" read the display. Just as well, I was about to call him, RHJ thought to himself.

"Alright mate? It's Matt. Congratulations on the offer!" Portland's words only served to add to RHJ's confusion. Everything spilled out into one long sentence.

"I thought you were handling everything for me? Why have they emailed me their offer? How did you know about the offer? I've got no clue what's going on, Matt."

"Relax, chill," Portland tried to calm his protégé. "I am handling your stuff. Omni obviously got in touch with me. I think it's a good drive," he added. "Second driver on paper, equal status in practice, a team that finished third in the constructors' last year. No brainer. We've already banged out the contract details. You know I'm in your corner. Once we got all the legalities out of the way, I told them it was best to offer you the seat directly. I'd accept it, if I were you."

"What about McPahan?"

"McPahan? You can't be serious, Ryan. Omni were third last season. McPahan have no money. They're the WGPC works team. It'd be a step down from Macllynlleth. Besides, I think they've gone for Colac and someone else. You'd best take this offer if you want to drive in WGPC this season, mate. I'll be in Hodori for the season opener. Hopefully you'll be there too."

"Right. Of course. Yes, yes of course I'll tell them I'm taking the drive. See you in Hodori."

"Good lad. Omni will be a good fit. Let them know, obviously, and we'll look at getting you out to West-East Timor to get fitted for the car."

---

Ryan Harris-Jones accepts Omni's offer of the second driver spot.

[Falcania]

Camden Pit, Eelandii, Turori
Four Hours Ago

Eelandi looked like it had been dropped from the sky. It truly was the middle of nowhere. But at least the people here had seen Falcanians before - there was even a Falcanian restaurant in Almintora. It was good to be back in AO, even if only for a weekend.

Tab was munching on fried mouse tails in the briefing, where Sait Mivex was thrumming with pride. A large, complicated machine was on the workbench.

"This is the first major modification we've developed. We've taken the gearbox off the Camden and we're replacing it with this. Seven-speed semi-automatic sequential transmission, plasma-forged steel, computer-regulated differential."

"Lot of 'S'es there," Crax said.

"What does it do?" Tab asked.

"The short answer - the same as the old one, except faster, smoother, and significantly lighter," Mivex said.

"Today's practice, we're testing it. You're testing it, specifically, Tab. Gear changing is maybe your biggest blind spot, racing-wise."

"Jets don't have gears," she shrugged.

"This should help. Remember, the indicator lights on the wheel are useful, but they're a guide, not a crutch."

"Okay. Right, let's see what this Camden can do."

[Aboveland]

As per usual, Terho prances into the paddock slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder and with a styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand, taking small sips of the scalding liquid, making a yummy sound. The coffee in Eelandii is the best by far.

The tormenting buzz of the busy pre-season testing paddock has gone today; or maybe, the sounds of the garage no longer frazzle him, but make him feel at home and part of the bigger picture. In his stride, the confidence and optimism is apparent: he isn't smiling or laughing or shooting finger guns at anyone. Instead, he's walking steadily, determinedly, to the TRAE paddock, looking ahead humbly with his chin down. His ears are plugged with earbuds ringing familiar tunes, emotionally neutral but harking back to times of success, though not because he needs the support of a good memory of a pole or a victory. This time around, few people turn to face him as he heads towards his team. The ones who do turn around are mostly drivers, among them Sigur Bjarnason, to whom he smiles and high-fives, but most of the people today are deeply entranced with their tasks at hand.

Terho tugs at the cables snaking out of his ears when he finally reaches his car, and his facial expression becomes welcoming. Firm handshakes all around and a quick briefing before he sets down his duffel bag on the nearest chair. He places his hands on his hips, sighs, and walks around the car, smiling. To him, AGP 002 is undoubtedly the most gorgeous car he's had yet. Chassis Y', his championship-winning car, was sexy in her nude matte black paintjob, which told no more than had to be known; Anni, which took him to a crushing third place in the championship, was as quirky as her name suggested, but her livery was nowhere near as refined or stunning as his previous car; Nanna was sleek, but quite dull. Yet, none of them could hold a candle to AGP 002, its paint sparkling with its swoops and dives and vents. It sat there, quiet and soulless, peacefully unnamed. Perhaps, in time for the start of the season, it was christening time.

That thought, however, sparked another one. Terho remembered, briefly, Ryker Lane's naming conundrum of the previous year, and in turn, remembered Esmerel. The Nimban wasn't one to show discontent with a situation, much less a social one—or at least that's how he seemed to Terho—but he could distinctly remember him trying to approach him during his rage-fueled march back to the garage. He'd been dismissive of the poor soul's ever friendly attitude... yeah, he'd been a total dickhead.

Terho raises his head after having lowered it in remorse, scans the paddock for any incoming questions, and then heads out of the TRÆ paddock in search of the Nimban garage. He heads to the left, and it's Mirrors and MRT and the restrooms, so he turns back around to where he'd come from. Eelandii, Bandai Agin, MRT, Polaris (where he stops to ogle the livery) and, ah, Nexus. One of the two Chase Cutters is missing, but before he lets his shoulders drop in defeat he spots Ryker's helmet, burrowed inside a box shelf. He looks around the team, waving to whoever might be looking in his direction, but fails to find him. He stands for a moment, for as long as he can before he gets kicked out, and starts to walk back after a few minutes.

On the way back to the TRÆ garage, he crosses paths with him in the hallway, and lets out the smallest gasp he could muster.

"Ryker!" he says excitedly, stretching out his arms before collecting them back towards his body. He tries hard not to stammer. "How is everything?" he asks, and after a pause, apologizes: "I'm... uh, I'm sorry about the other day... Rough weekend. I'm sure you understand."

[Nekoni]

"I know the numbers look shite, mate, but it's OK. You know what we've had to go through." Polaris pit boss, Alexandra Mayari, seemed to be beginning this season with the same fair-handedness that she took the last one with. If this was a couple of seasons ago, when Mayari was in the driver's seat, she probably would have been given a bollocking for not cracking the top 10 in practice. However, she had the experience of driving the car for so long, that she of anyone in the Polaris paddock knew that if the car wasn't playing ball, it wouldn't matter how good the driver was, the times wouldn't match.

Sadly, it seemed that the decision to start on their new car late this season came back to bite them, with some notable issues occuring during these five test sessions with it. The main thorn in the team's side was the engine. It appeared that the fancy bodywork designed to be as aerodynamically efficient as mathematics would allow did its job fine, however, with the engine seeming to be prone to overheating, the cooling air being pushed away from it meant that the car could only keep that pace for one qualifying session, if they were lucky. Fortunately, the problem had been identified, but with the team having to up sticks and move to three different practice locations so close to each other, the only real situation was to let the three team members who didn't have the right visa to travel remain in Neocastella with a few toolkits to sort out the problem themselves. The car would be ready in time for the first championship race in Hodori, no problem.

However, that was in the future, and now, Souzare and Okumura had just done their final training session in Turori. Whilst other drivers were attempting to show off their fastest laps to let their rivals know how dangerous they could be, sadly, Polaris could not for the sake of the car. Engines weren't cheap, especially for elite racing ones. Therefore, the days were more a test session of switching between the various setups of car that Polaris envisaged would be necessary throughout the calendar, maximising grip levels under the different tire compounds, even contingency planning training, automatically disabling traction control and seeing if the drivers could react quickly to correct it and drive to the pits relatively unscathed. The only thing that couldn't be tested was work in the rain. Sadly, the five track days were all bone-dry; despite some cloudy skies in Mattijana, the only difference on the track itself was a temperature drop of a few degrees. Still, Mayari thought, we could knock up some fake weather tests back at the test track. They had enough people with enough hosepipes to do it.

Erica wasn't that convinced. "I get it, but...it's hard to look at numbers like that and get a positive out of them. Especially as the car had the engine issue all along and we never tested enough to fix it."

"Ain't your problem," responded Alexandra, who was now at home in Varea, trying to futilely peel an orange with her free hand, her other hand occupied holding the phone to her ear. "It's my mistake. I suggested holding out a little to scope the competition out. We went for a gamble, and it didn't quite work. I'm sorry. However, that's not stopping us from being ready when it matters. Nobody's going to be bollocking anyone at this point. You didn't crash and injure yourself, there's no points on offer anyway, we got tons of real-world data, and the engine is intact for us to tinker with. That's a pretty successful sojourn, if you ask me."

Attemping to pinch at the rind of the orange, it fell out of her hands and onto the floor, to which Alex instinctively cursed. "Damn it!"

"Is everything OK, there?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Alex reassured, bending forward to pick it up. "Just realising that I really should stop biting my nails. Tried to peel an orange and it's more like I'm massaging the bloody thing. Might be more successful doing that until I get juice." Erica sniggered a little in response as Alex continued. "Speaking of, have you seen your advert for that energy drink?"

Erica sounded almost ashamed to have been involved. "How can I not? It's everywhere!" As it turns out, despite the objectification of women in the media being a hot-button issue for quite a while, you could still in this day and age advertise something to great succcess by dressing an attractive woman up in a spandex witch costume with tears in the right spots, give her a mask for mystique, tell her to look 'alluring' and add thunder in Photoshop. Sex sells, as does controversy. Alex laughed in mild sympathy. "Well, I'm glad they got you to do it before me. You look a damn sight better than I'd do in that. And besides, the puritan types in the newspapers hate your ass right now. And if you piss them off, you're probably doing something right."

Erica responded. "Amen to that. To be honest, they've been pissed off with us ever since we decided to get in a WGPC car. One more poke can't hurt."

[Sorlovia]

Solnichniy, Orovets Oblast, Sorlovia
WGPC Post Training Break

Solnichniy was a small harbour town that still wore the scars of a harsh Communist past. Dull grey apartment buildings lined wide streets set out in a grid pattern. Their hulking concrete slab forms arranged in neat uniform rows interspersed with gloomy public spaces that had once held security cameras and guard stations. The Communists might be gone but their impact of their rule would be felt for a long time to come. The town was doing its best to reinvent itself as a modern democratic capitalist Sorlovian town but the Communist-era urban design was not easily replaced. Some of the old apartment complexes had been demolished to make way for more modern residential areas of the kind seen other towns and a few of the urban spaces bore signs of being developed into parks.

But the town's darkest relic was the ruins of the extermination camp on its northern fringe. The old camp had been used during the rule of the Perestroya to detain Jews and Gypsies. Its gas chambers had seen the murder of one thousand Jews and six hundred gypsies in a brutal genocide carried out by the Communists against what they'd seen as the 'subhuman' populace ravaging their nation. The camp had been liberated by the Sorlovian Revolutionary Army during the 1933-1938 Civil War during which the rebels had summarily executed every soldier, doctor and officer stationed in the act in a bloody act of revenge. The rebels had backed the former inmates as they set off explosives and fires to destroy the camp on their way out. A two-story high memorial now stood at what had once been the entrance to the death camp listing the names of every single Jew and Gypsy murdered within its walls. Local legend said that the ghosts of the dead now haunted the grounds.

Gregori had opted to make a trip to his birthplace to visit his parents before the WGPC season got busy like it always did. It was only a four hour flight between Mattijana and Sorlovia so it wasn't like it would be hard to get back to Mattijana with plenty of time to spare if he needed to. Besides, he wanted to see his birthplace. He wanted to walk the streets and feel the familiar feelings he'd once felt. He wanted to see if the town was begin to heal at long last. To see if the rumours were true. He wanted to visit the memorial at the old extermination camp to lay a bundle of roses and think about all the lives that had been cruelly cut short. Then he wanted to piss on the memory of the local Communists by spitting on the site where the old Perstroya Command Centre had been. It was a tradition many young Sorlovians from Solnichniy held to as a gesture of cutting themselves off from the Communist memory that continued to darken their nation. The Perestroya had been a disgrace to their people. A power-mad enclave of evil men who had carried out unspeakable acts of evil to the great shame of their nation.

"Communist bastards," Gregori said to himself softly as his plane flew over the ruins of the damp on its way to the airstrip "You will be remembered as monsters. Evil men who disgraced this nation."

Gregori was a racer. But like all Sorlovians his age he was painfully aware of the Communist past of his nation and the damage that had been done to his country by those evil men. It was a large part of the driving force that made young Sorlovians so passionately determined to be different to the generation that had gone before them. None of them wanted to resemble the Communists in any way, shape or form. Rather, they would eradicate any trace of that past. The Communist Party had been outlawed and the wearing of Communist regalia, the playing of Communist music and the use of Communist phrases had all been made illegal. The Perestroya would not be given the honour of even being referenced. They'd disgraced Sorlovia, so now they would be disgraced.

Every nation had horrors and darkness in its past. Owning up to them and remembering was part of the healing process. Gregori turned his mind back to the WGPC as his plane touched down at the small underdeveloped airstrip on the eastern fringe of Solnichniy. The final training session had proved to be disappointing. He'd perhaps pushed his car a little too hard causing it to have underperformance-inducing pitfalls. Not pitfalls in the car but in the way he handled the track and his performance in the practice. He'd perhaps been a little too hard on the car coming into the corners and had been a bit rough on the engine. The MRT car was a masterpiece of race engineering. But he was still learning and adapting to it after his experiences with the VMR car last season and his familiarity with his training car in Sorlovia.

Learning a new car was like breaking in a wild horse. It took patience and due diligence. Raceday would be a great chance to show what he and the car could do together.

[Esmerel]

Eelandii Grand Prix Course, Eelandii, Turori
Friday, March 22, 2019

Five sessions in and it seemed like the pre-season excitement had finally worn off. Teams were getting themselves set in to their new builds and drivers, and just about every one of them looked competitive in some way.

That was good. But, it was trouble. The first was that either Nexus had slipped back into the middle, or that testing provided nothing but practice for the drivers on circuits they wouldn't be coming back to anyways. Both scenarios were disturbing to Jean. Mostly due to the fact that he hated the lack of definitive information. For the first time in his mind, he had no idea what the pecking order of the drivers and teams would be come the first race in Hodori.

But it was good to find a footing in the first place. These first few sessions were just rehabilitation- Jean needed a few dry runs of the car before the positions mattered. Of course, so did everyone else- though Jean still had a cybernetic arm to deal with. Replacing your dominant hand, no matter how good the replacement, is bound to shake something up. Besides, Nexus had yet to approach him with an idea on how to connect said cybernetics to the new machine.

And there was now the shadow of... him. I never should have brought him up. Just brings back confusion. Why he did what he did.

"Jean? It's Max, I have the testing results."

"Anything more definitive than just numbers?"

"I... admittedly, Jean, not much."

"Then show it to the tech guys instead, if you don't mind. I need a few moments."

"...Jean? Something up?"

"No, no, it's nothing at all-"

"I have time. Just tell me."

"I... Alright. I'm confused. Stressed out. Not for myself, I know that's been taken care of and everything... but how things are going to play out. I have goals to achieve, but I hate being overambitious."

"Jean. That isn't your job to worry about. You need to drive the car and aim to achieve those goals, but it's not like you're being pushed to achieve them now, it it?"

"Well, yeah... Esmerelians do remain healthy and vigorous longer than most others, so my age doesn't play much part in this, but I'm almost 37. What are the chances they just kick me out when I grow too old in numbers?"

"Oh, Jean, buddy. I'd say you shouldn't worry about that either. Come over here and sit down. I'm going to give you a little Trondheim Tip."

"Huh?"

"Oh, it's just something I learned when I was younger. Tip number 24: never let the past or the future consume you. Live in the moment."

"No offense, Max, but living in the moment doesn't really help a racing driver. Gotta look a few seconds up the road and all that."

"I was only halfway through. And as you live in the moment, go ahead and look forward just a bit. Make that the moment too. Make it so that when it becomes the moment it's the best moment it can be."

"Hm. You know what, Max? We picked well. That's a good tip."

"Well, thank you, Jean. There's more where that came from, too."

"Real nice. So, I guess I could mention one thing. Any idea on how I could connect my new arm's systems to Lucifer's systems? The rest of Nexus haven't said anything yet."

"Huh. I'm not a pro at that stuff, Jean, but if that Imagination stuff does what it says on the tin, you should be able to figure it out yourself."

"...Duly noted. I'll think about that. We should start packing for the trip back to HQ, for now at least."

[WGPC]

McPahan Swoop for Digri and Colac-Strek

Audioslavian WGPC Motorworks outfit McPahan Racing have announced their intention to sign Mytanija driver Jelena Colac-Strek and Hunter Digri of Vadkness for the up-coming WGPC season.

Colac-Strek, 21, proved to be more than capable during the Eelandii try-outs and comes from a nation with a history in the WGPC, whereas Digri had been courted by various teams without any being brave enough to pull the trigger on the talented yet un-tested Vadkness driver.

McPahan have received confirmation that Colac-Strek will be behind the wheel of their first car in time for race one, but are waiting on confirmation from Vadkness about Digri.

[Vadkness]

The Vigo Viga
Vexby, Vadkness

Hunter Digri zipped up his bag and sat on the bed, opening his laptop. He signed in and headed to the news page. With all the other teams signed up and ready to go, if McPahan was going to jump in and sign some drivers, it would have been the ideal time. He easily found an article of McPahan's signing intentions and skimmed through, his eyes latching onto the name 'Colac-Strek'. He nodded to himself. A good choice. A little further down it mentioned that they were waiting for a response from their second driver. Hunter paused. 'Surely not?' He thought to himself. He pondered the possibility for a few seconds before opening his inbox. What harm could it do just to check? The internet had taught him about email folders, so everything he received related to the WGPC went straight into one now, so he opened it up.

The pause that followed was a long one, and Hunter ended up having to jolt forward to grab his laptop and stop it from sliding any more off of his lap. No, he wasn't dreaming. That was certainly an email from McPahan. He rubbed the sides of his face and opened it up. Reading through it, his grin widened. He grabbed his mobile. It rung for a few seconds before the person on the other end picked up.

"Hunter?"

"Father!"

"Are you coming back soon, son?"

"No, Father, I'm not coming back at all! I have good news - brilliant, in fact!"

"Oh?" Hunter could hear the excitement in the old man's voice. "Do tell."

"McPahan wants to sign me as their second driver."

There was a pause on the other end. "I must be going deaf, son, I thought you said McPahan."

"Yes, Father, I'm not joking you."

"Son, that's fantastic. You're going to drive in the WPGC."

"As soon as I reply to their email," Hunter laughed.

"Then don't let me keep you, go."

"Alright, Father. I'll do you proud."

"You already have done, Hunter," his father said, then the faint click of him hanging up followed. Hunter cracked open his email composer to write up a reply to McPahan, to confirm his seat with the team.

[Former Citizens of the Nimbus System]

Nexus Racing HQ, Crossbay Circuit, Nimbus Bay, the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System
17th of March

Lucia Vanderbilt, purposeful as ever, leans forward, pulling. She stands at the front, leading the rest; she is a consummate organiser, after all, ever at the forefront of the design and engineering team’s operations. Perhaps some would call her a control freak, not trusting enough – not even trusting enough of herself, one could argue – but as a force, it is a powerful one.

“And there we are.” She places the trolley’s handle on the floor, then turns to Xander and Virgil behind her. “You’ll deal with them?”

The two nod, smiling; she answers with her own nod and her trademark half-degree upward curl of the lips, then turns away – to come face to face with Vance Fleetfoot. He stares at the trolley’s contents – two half-wings, each supporting a piece of bodywork in the shape of a triangle with one side caved in and its corners drawn backward around it – and witnesses the two Nexus Racing engineers slot them into gaps in the side of the car with a pair of sharp clicks for each. He shakes his head, wide eyes looking over the vehicle. “I helped make those,” he whispers. “And the S-duct. And –”

“You did,” Lucia interrupts; Vance jumps several centimetres into the air but recovers himself quickly, delivering what must be a half-bow. A touch of warmth flows through in the usual chilled seriousness of her tone. “Well, too. Your improvements have been to the benefit of the team and you should be proud of them. We would not hold as strong a position to succeed without your efforts, Vance.”

He blushes at the praise, staring down at the car. “Thank you… I just… I’m amazed. A couple of years ago I was just doing theory work and now…” He gestures with one hand towards the vehicle, arm staying close to his side. “There are things here that I made. I can see them, you know? It’s… It’s wonderful.”

Lucia nods, closing her eyes. “I agree. It is special.”

Eelandii Grand Prix Course, Eelandii, Turori
22nd of March

Ryker Lane stares up at the deep azure skies of Turori: endless, without clouds to weigh it down or impede a view into the abyss. People pass around him; most fail to spot his unmoving, inconspicuous presence but a few glance his way, wondering why the Nimban driver is spending time gazing upwards for no apparent reason – or grinning knowingly at the Nimban driver spending time gazing upwards for no apparent reason.

As for the Nimban himself… He is aware of little but the sky. How beautiful. Simple but… Magnificent. Glorious. It’s so…

Mmm. ‘So.’ That about sums it up, really.

Ryker lets out a deep breath. Then his mind notices that breath and his prior awareness dissipates. He sighs, then smiles again, re-orientating himself – just to one side of Nexus Racing’s garage. Right… Just finished the final tests for the refuelling. Not the most engaging thing in the world but everything seems fine, so that’s good. Victoria needed it.

Strange that nobody on Gertrude’s team’s come up with an acronym for it yet, though. He hums to himself in amusement. Maybe I think of something myself and submit it to her. There’s something to think about for the next Terho.

Ryker’s train of thought promptly derails, destroying at least one coach, and collapses onto his mental ground as he comes face-to-face with Terho. In his brief surprise, Terho is the first one to speak. “Ryker!” he exclaims cheerily, putting out his arms as if to embrace him before apparently thinking better of it.

Well, he seems happier. That’s good!

“How is everything? I'm... uh, I'm sorry about the other day… Rough weekend. I'm sure you understand.”

Ah. Never mind. Well, at least I’m in a position to alleviate it!

“Hey, you’re forgiven; don’t worry yourself!” Ryker answers Terho, smiling warmly. “It’s good to see you again too.” He leans back a little, bringing one leg across the other. “I remember I had a few moments like that back at the start of WGPC 15; happens to all of us at times. Just got to make up for it if you can and keep going.” He frowns, glancing down; then a corner of his lips quirks up as he reminisces. “Imagination, that feels so long ago now. It’s only been two years but…”

Ryker shakes his head, looking up at Terho again. “You remember those days? You, me and Maria fighting for the Championship. We’d just turned up, VMR wasn’t even a thing yet…” He pauses, recalling something, then continues: “You know, I never actually got to thank you in person in Audioslavia – went over to your garage but you weren’t there. So, ah…”

He smiles again, then offers a hand to his once-rival. “Well fought.”

[Sorlovia]

Solnichniy, Orovets Oblast, Sorlovia
WGPC Post Training Break

"You made it Digri!" Gregori thought to himself "Good on you. I knew you would."

Gregori leaned back in his coffeehouse booth and smiled. McPahan Racing had only just made the announcement but it was already circulating on various news services. The reporters were quick to pick up any announcement relating to the WGPC and once it had been reported once it was picked by other news services. From there it was recycled and re-reported until it was all over the media. News travelled fast in the racing industry with even the smallest stories being hungrily snapped up by reporters and media personalities waiting in the wings. For good as well as bad. The WGPC was a favourite topic this time of year. Everyone wanted to know which racers were racing for which team. The juicy details, statistics and goings on at the tracks became hot topics. Any scandals or fallings out were favourite gossip topics.

Last season his brooding rivalry with Terho had been discovered by the media and blown well out of proportion causing him trouble. The media had dramatized until to such an extent that it had seemed like he and Terho were at each other's throats. He'd been forced to make a statement at the VMR Race Headquarters disproving the hype and stating that he and Terho were no more than friendly rivals on the track. As was to be expected in such a high paced industry with racers from a wide assortment of nations. When Jess had visited him in the hospital late one night after he'd been involved in a serious crash the media had tried to turn it into a sordid love affair and he'd once again had to make a statement disproving it. The media often liked to embellish things and scandalize. He hoped Hunter was ready for the attention. Racers, like other celebrities, were a favourite media target.

Gregori took a long sip from his latte and looked out the window. Solnichniy was indeed trying to reinvent itself by way of urban upgrade. Most of the main streets had been widened and resealed with fresh asphalt and carefully styled pedestrian areas. Two of the largest and ugliest apartment complexes had been leveled and a town park had been developed on their site. Even the modern coffeehouse in which he was now sitting was new. It closely resembled the kind of coffeehouses he'd seen overseas and bore a similar catchy name. The street that housed it was also home to a new modern cinema, a convenience store, a new gas station and what he assumed was a high-end barber. Solnichniy wanted to be seen as a new generation Sorlovian town that had done away with its Communist past and dark history. A few well laid out urban parks, a public library sponsored by a local community group and a smattering of appropriately placed public artworks.

"You're changing Solnichniy," Gregori said softly to himself "maybe we can get a bit of WGPC spirit here. That would be nice."

The World Gran Prix Championships had only just gained a spot in the Sorlovian spotlight. Gran Prix itself was a motorsport that was only just beginning to develop in the country with Gregori serving as a posterboy. But its entrance into the Sorlovian sport arena signalled that the country was changing from focusing on the traditional Slavic sports to include other international sports. That was a very good thing. Perhaps that would mean that other young Sorlovian men and women would have the courage and ambition to try their hand in the WGPC. He hoped so.

[The Sherpa Empire]

Jessica Franssen reminded Tripathi of a Vannish Asmira Doleeb. This was a good thing. He liked Doleeb. Back home in SIMS, they had been teammates for a season before Doleeb moved on and went to drive elsewhere. They had dated briefly, but it didn't go much of anywhere because Tripathi was just looking for a casual relationship and Doleeb wanted something more serious. They still got along, though. Tripathi liked a woman who knew her way around a race track, and Doleeb liked a man who could respect her talent and not be condescending about it.

Ordinarily, when a woman caught Tripathi's eye, he would ask her out; but this time there was something holding him back. He wasn't intimidated by Franssen's fame or afraid of being turned down. He was conflicted because he still had his heart set on wooing Yuan Qiang, but she was far away in Guilin.

Franssen's lap times in the last couple of practice sessions had not been the most spectacular, but Tripathi knew enough about her career to believe she was just working the kinks out and not pushing herself or the car too hard when there was nothing at stake. He reassured himself that later, when there was something at stake, she would push a little harder, giving it that extra little oomph that made the difference between decent and great. She had shown in past seasons that she had it in her. It was just a matter of hitting her stride, so to speak.

As for his own driving, things were falling into place. He was comfortable with the car and his pit crew. There was still room for improvement, though. There was always room for improvement. Tripathi had not become a star back home in the Sherpa Empire by resting on his laurels after getting a decent result. He was always looking ahead, trying to figure out how he could be just a little faster, a little better.

[Esmerel]

Nexus Racing HQ, Nimbus Bay, The Nexus Wardship
Thursday, March 28, 2019, 08:00 PM

Admittedly, this was a pretty rash idea. But sometimes a situation called for things like that. This was one of those situations.

It's just me and Lucifer alone in a garage, trying to see if I can figure something out here. Get it working.

Working with Imagination had already proved very interesting- despite the limited quantity Jean was legally allowed to use, he had found a few leads. His main goal for now, though, was to find a way to link the systems on Lucifer with his arm's multitool. It would make the job easier. He could focus on driving with his hands, while adjusting anything that had to be adjusted with just a few thoughts.

It had been 30 minutes so far. Nothing had worked entirely, not yet at least.

Alright. Let's try the link again.

Jean began another attempt to activate the machine. Nothing. Again. A spark, but then nothing. But he's not stopping. This is going to work.

Then he gets something. He already feels something different in his mind. The Imagination is helping the multitool create a seamless, lagless link. Now, one more try. Start the engine.

The engine turns on. So do the systems. Jean, already suited up, hops in.

It's working.

WGPC championship, here we come.

[Mytanija]

“Admir, Admir, I’ve some cracking news for you mate,” Tomas Colac said, excitement laced around his every word. “Yeah, yes mate – you’ve seen the news? Fantastic isn’t it! Yeah, yeah she’s got the seat. It’s with the McPahan WGPC Motorworks team, yeah. Great pedigree McPahan, here’s hoping they can produce something half decent to work with, hey?” The question was rhetorical, both Tomas and Admir knew that most Motorworks teams did not usually fight it out at the sharp end of things but they were both relatively pleased with the result. It was certainly better than Jelena having no seat at all.

Admir worked for Guinec, the biggest Mytanar brewing company, a brand ubiquitous across the country and served in every bar and pub in the land. He was a good friend of Tomas’ and he had known Jelena since she was a little girl. He had his own sense of pride about her success, obviously not quite on the same level as her father’s, but it was good to see all the same. It also meant that his bosses wouldn’t be badgering him about their investment, there was a chance they could see their brand get some extremely high-level television coverage now that Jelena had guaranteed herself a seat. She would be wearing Guinec baseball caps at every opportunity she could, along with the usual team issue stuff.

“I’m going to have to get off Admir, mate, yeah. I’ve not even told Jelena yet, to be quite honest with you mate, no, no I’m not sure she even knows. She’ll be ecstatic. What’s that? Oh, what’s she doing? She was doing a workout I think, we’ve just had a new home gym installed. Yeah, it’s fantastic really, great for her to use when she’s back here anyway. I’m going to have to go tell her though, yeah, alright, speak to you later. Cheers. Nice one mate.” Tomas put the phone and sat back, pride almost beaming out of his every pore. He sighed and let out a small chuckle. She had done it! It might not have been the level she had hoped, but it was certainly a start. The WGPC was a tough circle to break into and now Jelena was inside.

Some had said that Tomas was trying to live his dream vicariously through his daughter. He had always been a fan of motorsport, but he had gone down a different route entirely into architecture and that was how he had made his money. Sure, he had taken Jelena to look around the Petrinja Factory as a child and all that sort of thing, but it had always been her own decision. He hadn’t forced her to try karting – and it wasn’t like he had much of a hand in her success in it, that was all down to her own raw talent.

It was one of the arguments that he and Jelena’s mother, Élodie, had had a lot when Jelena was younger. Her mother had thought that Tomas was forcing Jelena into it and making her shut off other potential opportunities too early. It was regrettable that she hadn’t been able to see the potential opportunities that motorsport actually could open up for Jelena. If she was successful now, who knew what she might achieve? Then all the modelling and writing and whatever other opportunities Élodie had wanted her to pursue would be that much easier to actually try and achieve. Jelena would already have a name for herself and famous brands would actively want her to appear in adverts and model their stuff or write articles for them.

Tomas caught himself, it wasn’t even about that for their daughter. She just loved racing and wanted to be the best she could be. The other stuff was all nice, sure, but it wasn’t why Jelena loved to race. That was down to competitiveness and an inner drive to be the best. Perhaps both he and her mother were too caught up in it for other, wrong reasons.

He got up from his seat and went through to the gym where Jelena was jogging on the treadmill, set to a semi-steep incline and listening to music through her oversized headphones. She could see him come in in the mirror in front of her and immediately stopped the treadmill, turning to see what it was that he wanted.

“I have some absolutely fantastic news for you Jelena.”

“Have we managed to get another test set-up with a team?”

“Even better than that,” Tomas beamed. “McPahan Motorworks want you as the driver of their first car for this season.”

“You’re joking?!”

“Not at all.” Tomas laughed, holding his arms out to embrace his daughter. “You’ve done it Jelena!” She let out a shout of glee and hugged her father. This was what she had been working towards and she had done it without ever driving at WGPC2 or even international level. It was quite impressive. The achievement wasn’t wasted on her, she had worked very hard to make it to this point.

“Have you spoken to Admir and the people at Kikinda too?” Jelena said, tears of joy springing to her eyes.

“I’ve spoken to Admir, he’s absolutely buzzing, I’ll need to get on the phone to Kikinda. I’m sure they’ll be just as pleased.”

“Fucking hell Dad,” Jelena said, realisation creeping into her voice. “I’ll be racing in the WGPC this year.”

“Yeah, you’re going to have to remember to not be too star-struck when racing against the sort of people you’re usually only watching on television, you know.” Tomas said, laughing.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that,” Jelena smiled. Then a thought crossed her mind. Perhaps this was the chance to make things up with her mother. She could phone her and tell her the news. “I’m going to ring Mum.” She said.

“Oh? Really?” Tomas said doubtfully. “Have you spoke to her recently?”

“Well, no, but she rang saying we had to talk before the Eelandii test. Maybe this will be a good chance to sort everything out.”

“I think that’s a brilliant idea, Jelena.” Tomas said. “You should ring the McPahan WGPC Motorworks team as well, to confirm you’ll be racing for them this season!”

“I’m on it, Dad!”

If it wasn't already clear, Jelena Colac-Strek will be racing for WGPC Motorworks: McPahan this season.

[Aboveland]

Eelandii Grand Prix Course, Eelandii, Turori
22nd of March

Terho chuckles when Ryker replies positively, relieved to find he's not offended after how he treated him in Esmerel. He speaks in his usual way, laid back but always en garde, friendly but serious and sincere. He breaks from his mold slightly and relaxes his posture a bit.

“Hey, you’re forgiven; don’t worry yourself!" he says. “Imagination, that feels so long ago now. It’s only been two years but…”

Ryker shakes his head, looking up at Terho again. “You remember those days? You, me and Maria fighting for the Championship. We’d just turned up, VMR wasn’t even a thing yet…” He pauses, recalling something, then continues: “You know, I never actually got to thank you in person in Audioslavia – went over to your garage but you weren’t there. So, ah…”

He smiles again, then offers a hand to his once-rival. “Well fought.”

Terho winces when Ryker mentions Audioslavia the first time, but looks back on the race with a distant fondness—or maybe, a tad bit of remorse. Still, he shakes Ryker's extended hand. "I say the same," he says, smiling back, "even if we didn't go too far together in that race, eh?" He withdraws his sorrow by lowering his eyes. "That championship you netted that year was really something." He pauses, carefully thinking his next words through. "You know, I'll be honest, even though I was well in a position to make people doubt, uh, you know, switching up teams at the last moment, I was really skeptical about Nexus' chances in the WGPC. Unorthodox... and alien, technology we'd never seen before and, even, a fully electric car. It was all pretty wild." He looks up at him now, having lowered his head earlier, gazing with admiration and stretching his arms wide, signaling the Nexus garage. "But this," he says, "this you've got here is really amazing, from the bottom of my heart I say this." He smiles warmly, the awe in the words he'd just said flowing back to him. "A team so close knit and talented, so devoted not only to their common good but to the good and future of the sport, innovating non-stop, race to race... It's something I'd love to be a part of someday." He finishes those words in a slightly lower tone of voice. "I guess I can live it out through Janne's WGP3 ventures for now?" He makes the face that precedes breathing in through his teeth. "He's struggling somewhat, isn't he?"

Briefly, he strokes his chin, a little irked at himself for having spoken too long and cut off his spontaneous display of admiration.

---

Iskajärvi, Aboveland
Terho's flat

Terho dozes off on his couch, his phone slipping from his hands; exhausted after the quickfire testing weekends, anxious but confident about the first race week of the year, which stands just a flight and a day away.

Unlike every other time he falls asleep shortly before something important he should be awake from, he realizes he's begun to dream but doesn't jolt from his slumber. It begins in black and white, then the pastel colors fade in, and then the palette explodes vibrantly. He’s walking into the paddock—a paddock, at least; none in particular, the concept of- you get it—, and while he can’t hear the rumbling and rattling of the race week garage he feels it viscerally. It’s indistinct chatter all around him, with little more than fake, generic people who, were he able to focus on them, would turn out to be collages of everyone he’d ever seen. A few names and faces do arise however, as the first tangible elements of the dream: the lauding of returning, almost ancient champion Jai Kardaeri; the unmistakable tired face of modern cyborg Jean-Mercer Daly; he thinks he sees the long, silky hair of Jessica Franssen, and can’t quite make out if, next to her, it’s hotshot rookie testing star Vijay Tripathi or the troubled Tabitha Novax, whose name makes him giggle at the brilliance of it. Because of them being next to the VMR driver, he settles on Vijay; the undefinedness of the overalls in the dream does no favors.

He does eventually arrive at his car, and suddenly it seems he’s wearing his helmet, now painted some undefined color, and gloves. Perhaps he’d been wearing them all along. And then, again suddenly, a blur, and he’s speeding down the main straight of Dashoze Circuit, and he’s pinned against the sidewall of his monocoque, and he’s apparently coming down on a purple and a green and an orange car through the esses, and he’s passed them all, and there’s cheers and whoops and a glass of champagne in his car, which he promptly chucks out, only to find his car is in fact on a podium, where a tray of glasses sits on his front right tyre. He clambers out of his car, in a suit, and jumps up in joy, knocking over the tray of champagne glasses but taking another one from the other driver on the podium… who looks like Axel Novikov.

And despite the commotion, he awakes with a jolt, with a cheeky, somewhat weary smile, his phone alarm having nearly blown out one of his eardrums. The time reads 5:59. He heads to his bedroom, rubbing his eyes, to pack his bags for the flight at 11. While he sifts through his closet, looking to pack a pair of jeans or something of the sort for kicking about, he spots the suit he’d just worn on the Hodoran podium, drenched in champagne. He promptly exhales rapidly through his nose.