A-GRL

Can't Breathe

Natasha lies in bed, unable to sleep because of the night she's had. Victor made some moves - some of which seemed dorky to her then and some of which make her smile like a dork now.

As to whether the man is cheating, she doesn't care so much now. Victor is not only handsome, but fun and gentle at the same time.

He told her he started his career as an A-G ship mechanic. He did repairs on a Redline engineer's A-G craft; this man later watched Victor test-fly the machine. After that, Victor flew as a test pilot for two years, learning about the A-GRL ships and getting to know every single member of the Redline team. Some of them were at the club and they greeted her from afar before nodding at Victor.

He's the only person she talked to there. Her own engineers didn't seem to mind her or the fact she shook her stuff near an American. I was told to have fun, she reminded herself while grinning.

Her hands lie on her belly, fingers interlocked. "Dimi-3," she summons.

"Yes?" the voice says.

She couldn't stop herself from comparing the AI's smooth voice with Victor's. She forgets what she was going to ask for.

"Nat, you called me."

"Oh, I don't remember what I..."

"Okay. Can't sleep?"

She shakes her head.

"You are smiling. What's so funny?"

"Nothing."

Dimi-3 does not press on. Natasha sits on the edge of her bed, much like she did in the morning. The pixel wall again falls away, revealing a calm night sky above the structures of Nuevo San Francisco. The Gate, no longer so busy, looks more white than gold and seems to hold up the sky itself.

Natasha rises and clothes herself. Leggings and a tight hoodie.

The AI lights up the room gradually so as to not hurt her eyes. "It is 14 degrees Celsius out there."

"I'll be fine."

She leaves the room, walking hurriedly.

The shuttles are nearly empty, which she's thankful for. She's been awkward when fans have spotted her in the past.

The shuttle flies past the Gate, but not through it. She heads for the A-G track. She wants to see the ship.

None of her team members are in the hangar. It's not like there's any reason for Bai or Grigoriy to be around here, anyway. The race is done.

The Marux ship is stationed before in the center of the hangar. Its trident shape give it an aggressive look, even under dim moonlight. Natasha's locks her hands together and feels a floaty feeling in her chest. She then runs her hand along its smooth, celest edges. The livery feels spitefully cold, but she drags her hand across the dozens of sponsors on the purple wings. She pivots her finger on a wingtip as she turns to face the cockpit.

I brought this beautiful boy back, she thinks.

She notices the canopy isn't fully closed and figures the engineers retrieved the onboard data or something. But then she feels a warm aura she didn't feel anywhere else in the room.

A gloved hand snaps to her face in a way that makes it impossible for her to breathe. Instantly, she is in a hold she can't escape and on a timer equal to the capacity of her lungs.

Natasha struggles and flails, desperately shoving her palm into her attacker's mask. A second pair of hands pry her arms away. She turns and see this second person. She sees through the mask's eye holes and thinks, I know those eyes.

She twists and jerks this way and pushes against the lock but the man is too large and too mighty. Trying anything is harder now. His partner mutters something to this brute but she doesn't hear what it is.

"Don't kill her!" the accomplice says then, latching on to his friend. "What are you doing?!"

"Get... off," he responds. She doesn't know anymore. Her head hurts.

Natasha collapses and lies quietly on the cold floor.

"Get the link. Go, go, go," whispers one of them. The other reaches into the cockpit and yanks out a small device. They scramble away, leaving Natasha on her side and unconscious in the hangar.