A-GRL

3...2...1...

Natasha's face goes numb and she feels her hand melt away from the throttle lever. All her opponents get away better than she does. Another ship creeps alongside. She sees it out of the corner of her eye.

She turns into her opponent, sure that if she doesn't ram him into the wall, she'll lose the position into the first corner.

It is a strong hit. Not only did she prevent herself from getting overtaken, but she caught one of the leader's slipstreams.

"Shields 75%," Dimi-3 says as Natasha flies over a weapon pad, "Guns, 16."

She sees the Redline ship get held up ahead. I have you now, American, Natasha thinks as she leads her target.

She pulls the trigger but the Redline ship evades almost all her gunfire. The ship is actually quite a large target but its pilot weaves it perfectly. As soon as Natasha burns through all 16 rounds, the Redline ship settles down.

How does he, Natasha thinks. A cube thing falls out from underneath the Redline ship and floats in her path.

Know.

A flash and her world becomes soundless and all light. She reaches for the throttle but her arm is thrown away by a severe impact against the track barrier. That's what she feels she hit, at least. Her harnesses dig into her G-suit and for a moment she can't breathe. A noise rings in her ears and tears spew from her eyes uncontrollably.

Slowly, she starts to see the world outside her cockpit again. The ship is scraping along the barrier. She sees the green shield glow over her dark purple ship's wings. She yanks the controls away from the track barrier and the ship gladly obeys.

It is a long left-hand turn and several ships overtake her on both sides. Dimi-3 speaks but she still can't hear him over the ringing. Rubbing against the barrier cost her all her momentum. I have no choice but to fall behind now. Damn that American!

She flies over a weapon pad but Dimi-3 is just a mumble to Natasha. As long as I can see, I can fight!

Dimi-3 brings up information on her helmet visor. The ship's shield level has fallen dangerously low, in large part to the Redline pilot's bomb. "25%?" Natasha reads, "It hasn't even been a lap!"

"Can you hear me?" the AI squeaks. Natasha only just understands him over the incessant ringing.

"Yes! Yes," she barks, many decibels louder than Dimi-3 needs to hear her.

"Missile, last place, 7 seconds."

"Gah!" Natasha narrowly avoids a line of mines.

"5 seconds."

"Stop telling me the gap. I need max focus!" she yells, knocking the throttle lever to max coming out of the corner she crashed into in practice.

She starts seeing her competitors upon starting the second lap of 4. She takes 7th like her opponent wasn't even there. She uses her airbrakes late into the first corner to take 6th easily.

I'm coming for you, she thinks, slipstreaming 5th place through the second sector.

"Lock on," Dimi-3 informs, "Shield weak."

Natasha squeezes the trigger and lets a missile fly. Her opponent doesn't even have time to react. The missile goes left of its target and curls into the side of it, knocking it off the racing line.

"Thanks, but I don't need you anymore," she says, as if her opponent could hear her. She zooms into the third sector, gripping the controls determinedly.