A/N: Too short…I think it's too short…
Parm fiddled around with the green gear in his hand, checking his scanner with the other. "Huh, very interesting, very interesting indeed…" he murmured. Cyrano looked over Parm's shoulder at all the information reading on the scanner, and he simply stared at it before stepping away. He'd let his more smarter partner do the complicated stuff; after all, a dragon like him won't work unless needed, and besides, he didn't understand Parm's large words of scientific proportions.
Parm spoke to himself under his breath as he punched in a few numbers on the scanner, and it beeped a couple of times before he pressed a button to make it stop. He looked at the scanner's screen, gave a sigh of relief, and looked up to see Lance, Artha and Kitt. "Well, all's good with this gear, and thank the Magna Draconis for that!" he said. "Lance, can you get the mag-rack?"
Lance ran off to the gear room. "So the gear's not infected?" Artha questioned as Lance returned, pushing a mag-rack in front of him.
"Quite so," Parm replied, pulling the mag-rack towards him and setting the gear on it. "But while that seems okay, we'll need to make sure to use our green gear conservatively," he added. "We wouldn't want any more of our dragons getting infected if we have to buy new ones."
Kitt scowled. "That's level one gear, Parmon; I don't think it's possible to conserve it in its current shape," she explained bitterly. "This is already interfering with racing, and I need to race!"
"I hear you there, Kitt," Artha groaned, sitting down in a chair next to Parm. "If we can't use the green gear, then we'll have to think of newer strategies for racing if we need to use it."
"But you guys don't use ramming gear that much!" Lance pointed out, staring at the green gear locked on the mag-rack. Beau and Wyldfyr, who came in the room, looked over at the gear, and then at their riders.
"Well, if it's needed for a race, then we're in trouble," Artha said, looking grimly at Beau. "Green gear also increases a dragon's defense, but our gear's not that good. These races are getting harder and more competitive each day!"
Kitt gave a frustrated groan. "If the races close down, then awards can't be received," she hissed. "They give out prize money too, you know. Some people don't have a choice but to race to get what they need."
I guess I'm one of those people, Artha thought. When his father disappeared, Artha had to start racing so that he could earn money for all their needs, such as food. It was extremely expensive to feed dragons these days and other things don't come cheap. He began hoping that the racing tracks wouldn't close because of the green gear problem.
"Why do you race, Kitt?" Lance asked, his hands akimbo.
Kitt gave a smug smile. "I race because it's my life," she said proudly. "Remember, I'm the number one racer in Dragon City, and I don't let a few little problems get in my way of keeping that position, even if I am on a team."
"Hey, you know, speaking of races, there's a race coming up right now!" Lance said, a grin crossing his face. Wyldfyr's teeth showed as she grinned recklessly and Beau grunted with determination.
"Oh, yeah, I completely forgot about it!" Artha gasped, slapping the palm of his hand against his head. "Thanks, bro!"
"This should be an interesting race," Parm said thoughtfully, placing his scanner on his desk and grabbing a pair of binocs. Cyrano nodded in agreement, and Lance walked up to his technical friend.
"Hey, Parm, you have drakkals, right?" he asked. "After the race, we can buy candy!"
Parm sighed and looked away. When it came to Lance and food, the child was always eager to eat, and spend their money carelessly. "Fine, but I'm buying the Draconee-Yum bars this time," he said.
Lance's face fell. "Aww…" he said, sulking. Artha and Beau looked at each other and chuckled.
- - -
While Race Marshall Budge announced the racers to everyone in the crowd, Artha and Kitt looked around and surveyed the other dragons. Parm was right, the race would be slightly interesting. Green ramming gear was not evident on any of the dragons, except for Decepshun and a racer's Energy-class dragon.
Artha turned his head away as Moordryd and his dragon lined up next to him. Moordryd turned to Artha with a smirk. "Ready to lose, stable brat?" he sneered. Whenever Artha was around, Moordryd took the opportunity to harass him with insults and injury, whichever came first.
"Ha!" Artha scoffed. "Dream on, Paynn!" He nodded at the sleek, green gear placed on Decepshun's chest, rated level six. "I see that you've brought some green ramming gear with you. I thought they were causing some problems for your crew."
Moordryd simply rolled his eyes. "Unlike the other green ramming gear out there in Dragon City and the three used on my crewmember's dragons, my gear is in good shape," he explained smugly. "No little bugs, no dents or scratches, no signs of my dragon having any trouble with this gear. What about you, Penn? I see that you're not using green ramming gear either, like the rest of these cowards. What's the matter? Too scared to use it?"
Artha's hands gripped tightly on the grips of Beau's saddle, and the dragon looked up at him. "Watch it, Moordryd," Artha growled, slitting his eyes. Moordryd simply laughed and turned his attention back on the track, pressing a button so that the lower visor of his helmet rose up and covering the bottom half of his face.
"Artha!" a voice called. Artha looked beside him to see Kitt and Wyldfyr. Kitt nodded her head at Moordryd and mouthed "What about him?"
Artha realized what she was talking about; what if Paynn was responsible for all this? Word Paynn wanted to start a second dragonhuman war and let the world fall under their power, and Moordryd helped him out. The fact that they could be infecting the gear to infect the dragons was believable, since it seemed as though they would stop at nothing to start the war.
Artha turned his attention to the track just as a beep sounded out, and the dragons sprinted off. Kitt was leading with Wyldfyr, maneuvering around the others. Artha did the same, maneuvering around a Dragon Flare racer and the dragon wearing green ramming gear.
As he tried bypassing Moordryd, the Dragon Eye leader maneuvered Decepshun left, bashing her into Beau and Artha, who were knocked off balance. Beau straightened back up and snorted angrily, glaring at Decepshun, who hissed at him and bashed into Beau again. "Hey, whoa!" the dark-haired teenager cried, nearly falling off. He shifted his eyes at Moordryd, who laughed at him again and sped off. Artha groaned as he watched Beau's energy meter drop.
He pressed a button on the levers, and a gear designed as rockets attached to Beau's sides flipped out. There was a burst of powerful flames from the red thrusting gear, and Artha and Beau went faster, keeping up with the other racers, making them end up in fourth place.
The racer who was third looked behind him, and pressed a button on his saddle. Aqua tentacle gear was activated, and flew back at Beau, whose eyes widened. "Whoa, Beau, look out!" Artha yelled, trying to maneuver him out of the way, but one tentacle managed to clip onto Beau's hide. He yelped and started slowing down.
Artha growled and pulled out a mag-staff, bringing it down on the tentacle gear. It snapped off and Artha and Beau had to keep running to keep their position in fourth, managing to get to third. Unfortunately Moordryd had stolen fourth place, and he finally activated the green gear on his dragon. He maneuvered Decepshun right next to Beau and bashed into them. Artha watched as Beau's energy dropped again, this time more drastically, and he gritted his teeth in frustration, shooting Moordryd a nasty glare, who just chuckled sinisterly.
"Oh, keep laughing, Moordryd!" Artha snapped, his knuckles white from gripping onto the saddle controls. The shadows were long as the sun shone above at high noon, and to Artha, that was a perfect day for beating Moordryd. "Laugh at this! Beau!"
Beau roared and sped forward, just past Moordryd. He scowled and pulled out an energy drain whip. Artha quickly slammed his foot on the right pedal of Beau's saddle, and the thrusting gear was activated again, causing them to speed up, the grip on Moordryd's whip just barely missing them.
Artha turned his eyes back in front of him. Okay, if we can speed up even more, we may just hit vortex speed and even beat Kitt! he thought. All I need to do is release the power of the dragon…
He closed his eyes and concentrated. It wasn't just speed alone that could help them win; you needed to be one with your dragon to fully reach the speed. He focused; he tried seeing what was going on in front of him, feeling what Beau was feeling…and then he felt the rush of wind whooshing past him, and his lips curved upwards into a triumphant smirk as he could feel themselves going faster and faster…
He suddenly heard a shriek from behind him…a dragon's shriek. Beau gave a loud grunt, and Artha's eyes snapped wide open. "Wha - ?" he gasped. He quickly slammed the brakes on his saddle. Artha saw Kitt and Wyldfyr standing next to them both, but the close victory was forgotten as they turned around to see the other racers braking and doing the same motion.
Kitt groaned. "Please tell me that's not another dragon victim…" she said, raising a hand over her eyes and squinting to see what was happening.
The Dragon Flare racer that was originally in sixth place had finally caught up to them. There was a frown on her face as she stopped her dragon and shook her head. "You're wrong, it's not another dragon victim," she grumbled. "It's two. And the other racer was using tentacle gear."
Artha and Kitt exchanged nervous glances.
To Be Continued
Laura the Infamous B: Thanks. I didn't get your review after I posted Chapter 3. I'll try doing as you request. :)
Kereea: Thanks. As you can now see, it's not just green gear getting the dragons infected…
Crazy Person: So you're an A/K shipper too? Hehe.