[3.5 years before the Brevon Incident]
Mid-morning, and the Red Scarves vehicle workshop is atypically quiet. The only occupant is a lone olive lynx, browsing a line of motorbikes built specifically for off-road riding. Walking down the line of low-power bikes she's spent the last year and a half riding, she proceeds to the more powerful models normally reserved for the veterans and seniors. Stopping by a model with a deep cherry red finish, the lynx looks around her. Seeing she's still alone, she mounts the bike. A few seconds later, she fires the engine into life, the exhaust rumbling promisingly.
"Have you ridden a bike as powerful as that one before?" a rust-brown macaque asks, appearing from behind a nearby bike.
The lynx jumps in surprise, almost falling off the bike, though she rights herself just in time. "No, but it can't be that hard. Meanie, Fluff-tail, and Blondie make it look easy."
Meanie, Fluff-tail, and Blondie? Must be nicknames for her friends. "It's trickier than it looks," the macaque explains as he stands and approaches the lynx. "You get more grip from the bigger tyres, but the greater power from the V-twin makes them harder to control. You've also got gears to deal with. This model has a five-speed manual shift instead of the CVT on the lesser single-cylinder bikes." The macaque then points to a couple of levers on the bike. "The lever is by your left foot: up to shift up, and down to shift down. There's also a clutch lever on the left handle, but you'll only need that for setting off. On change-down, it'll blip the throttle for you."
"Sounds simple," the lynx thinks aloud. "Ish."
"You get used to it very quickly," the macaque assures. "Few take longer than half an hour."
"I'm a fast learner," the lynx replies confidently. "Plus I can use the test track next door."
"Good idea," the macaque agrees. "I just need your name to record the bike's checked out."
"Maria Shanmao," the lynx answers.
"Ah yes," the macaque nods. "I should have guessed based on how you referred to your friends."
"Am I really that well known?" Maria blushes.
"You're an unusual person, even for a group as richly diverse as the Red Scarves," the macaque smiles kindly. "Such uniqueness gets noticed."
"Thanks, I think," Maria replies, a little unsure whether the macaque really was complimentary.
"I meant no offense," the macaque assures, sensing Maria's hesitance.
"In that case, none taken," Maria smiles, visibly relieved.
"Anything else you need?" the macaque asks.
Maria thinks for a moment. "No, I'm good to go."
"Then I shall get out of your way," the macaque decides, stepping to one side. "Oh, before I forget," he adds. "There's a couple of girls already at the test track, and I got the impression they like to race. I recommend you try not to get in their way."
"They're not icky meanies, are they?" Maria asks, concerned.
"No, not at all," the macaque assures. "They're actually pretty friendly. I just got the feeling they take their racing seriously, and would prefer not to be interrupted."
"I'll do my best to give them space," Maria promises. She then revs the engine, lets out the clutch… and stalls. "Oh poo."
"Everyone stalls the first time," the macaque winks.
Maria nods an acknowledgement. She then restarts the engine and pulls away, bunny-hopping a little. Once the bike settles and she's pointed at the right exit, Maria carefully opens the throttle and rides out to the track.