Focus on the rock...easy...this next pass and you’ll have it. Gerrad pushed hard on the stick, thinking how close Feran was behind him, the gap getting smaller with each minute - he was a good pilot, no doubt...but in this heat, it was anyone’s game, and after their last race he knew Feran had a score to settle...that one was close, but this one was going to be even closer. What was it she said? - Brief thoughts passed through his head as he plotted through the fields of rock. Gerrad couldn't help but chuckle softly as he remembered the talk, “I want the couch over here, on this wall...should open the room some, ya think?”. Breaking atmo in Terra, he’d had a couple minutes talking to Sue before the comms went out - for those last few weeks, they’d been discussing changes to their flat in New Austin - she wanted to change the decor some, make it more Earthy as Gerrad put it, more furniture, art her father had shipped, a new chair - It stays! - he’d said to her as they argued. He liked things the way they were, comfy, uncluttered with the basics -That chair was my grandfathers - he thought to himself while breaking hard port to avoid a small cluster of debris. Sue was born on Earth, and after they were married, fought against moving to Terra, but gave in as the credits made the trip worth the price of giving up her home, or at least, that’s what she convinced herself. She wasn't ever completely comfortable there, especially among the group of hens she had to socialize with...not that they even knew what a hen was, but it was a better term than what she normally called them in her head...or to Gerrad when she’d had a few glasses of synth in her, but such was the life of a “Racer Wife”, and she’d promised to play nice as long as he’d do the same to keep her happy. 6 Km then fast to turn 27 - his mind focusing back on the path in front - Damn mag’s throwing the nav off. The rock in this particular asteroid belt had a high magnetic field, something he knew from the pre-brief, but he didn't expect the navigation computer to show that much of a strain. Ollie’s gonna have to fix that...add in a better compensator, at least let me dial the damn thing in...Shit! Left...ease around - Rocks were filling the front plexi on each turn, but it was the norm on these tracks; they specced them based on difficulty, larger ships would be hard to get through in one piece, but smaller racers like his M50 could squeeze through the showers of debris, as long as their nav computers held up. Dammit Ollie! You told me you upgraded this - Veering through the field was getting tiring, he knew this was going to be rougher on his ship, and on himself, but the strain was affecting him more than he’d like. Oliver French was Gerrad’s mechanic - a Terran-born, filthy pig of a man known by his love of drink, rot-gut intake of food, and tendency to generally piss off those around him...although anyone familiar with this stench, would know never to get that close. Gerrad had known Ollie since they were kids, and although personal hygiene was a passing thought at best, he was by far the best M50 grinder in the system...albeit a bit inconsistent in his approach to maintenance. Son of a... - veering again to avoid debris that didn't track, Gerrad imagined his fist square against Ollie’s jaw, the crack as he made contact...he smiled. Turn 27...easy...easy...punch it! - He felt the push back into his chair as his ship glided forward, both modded TR4’s exhausting faster as he rounded the sharp turn and into a final straightaway. The nav flashed the finish marker 37 Km ahead as Feran smirked out the port plexi - Dammit...thought he was further back. Feran Hollis was Gerrad’s arch enemy, and his only real competition in these short-hop races - they both earned their stripes in the early races together, always finishing within a place of each other, always vying for the one better. Feran had wormed his way into a corp sponsor early on ‘Kissing Brown’ as Gerrad liked to say, and always flaunted that fact whenever he’d been given a chance. Feran was the type to always need, always want more, and to take advantage whenever an opportunity presented itself - never considering those he stepped on along the way - and the corp backing to make sure he always had the latest and greatest. Their competition was well into a decade by the time Sue came along, and even with the bitterness between them, Gerrad knew he and Sue wouldn't have met if it weren't for him. Sue always called that day her “Wonder Day”, but to Gerrad, it was the day he met - and nearly lost - his future wife, something which he’d make certain Feran would eventually pay for - the crash would go down as an accident “officially”, but that look on his face in the vids after...Gerrad knew he caused it on purpose...one day, things would be set right. 28 Km...Where’d he go? Did he drop back? - Gerrad glanced out each plexi, looking for a sign of Feran’s ship - Damn mag’s...Ollie you son of a bitch. The proximity sensor fired off a loud chime as the last set of asteroid debris started to show off his nose - it was a straight shot to the finish, but you had to clear this last field at a fast pace if you wanted to keep your distance on the other racers. Gerrad figured Feran had dropped back to map a better path, or possibly slow to see if Gerrad’s ship would clear things where he could power through on full burn, but he wasn't going to take any chances on this one - he was down on points for the season, but a win would catch him up, even pass Feran by a few if his time was within the mark, so even with his nav system affected by the mag field, Gerrad had to push his way through - have to be fast on this finish. “We should get you a new one...hell, that thing probably has a disease in it with all the rips and tears.” - His mind drifted back to that last conversation - No, Dutch gave that to me, it’s all I have from him...how about we get rid of that piano of yours? It’s not like you even play it anymore... - Probably not the best thing to say, considering he knew her arm was still healing from the bump in that race a few months back; Sue had filled in for Ollie on Gerrad’s last duo race, she’d warned him how close he was to that Connie when he rolled past the Banu pilot to squeeze into third, but he hadn't listened and the resulting crash had her in the med center for 2 weeks. Dammit...you know I didn't mean that hon, I just...I can’t give up the chair you know? You know who he was to me. “You’re an ass Ger...but I love you. I’ll ‘try’ not to get rid of it while you’re gone this time, but do me a favor and don’t do anything stupid with him ok?” Love you too babe, and I can’t promise anything...but I’ll try. Atmo’s gonna kick in here any sec, I’ll send you a comm when I get there, love you. “Lo...v..you..t..zz……..” The comm had broke as he left the atmosphere over Terra III, something to do with the upper-atmo radiation layer, the crackling sound of her last message still stuck in his mind. They’d discussed Feran before each race, mainly ending with Sue telling him not to “get into it” with him, but she knew the rivalry, how he’d felt about Feran and how her words would probably fall on deaf ears, again. But something was different this time, the way she’d looked at him that evening, the long hug she’d given him at the hangar...the quiet walk on the way there… SHIT!! The hell was that? - His shipped vibrated like a metal rod - the impact had sensors going off like fireworks on the HUD, and the front plexi creaked as the crack spread under strain of the cabin pressure and speed. Feran was in front of him, stupidly close, way too close - The hell is he thinking?...what’s he… - Feran’s ship veered up and left as it came into view, bigger than 5 Tallies, a shower of dust in its wake...no time to react. -----