Disclaimer: Jak and Dax Series is owned by Naughty Dog.
Chapter 14: A Lesson In Racing
"No," Razer stood in the center of the Kras City circuit track with his arms crossed and a fresh cigarette between his fingers. In the late afternoon sun, his composure was that of a solid marble statue, full of resolve and a glimmer of challenge in his narrowed emerald eyes as he followed the pacing Erol's movements. Between them the commander's speeder sat like an immovable wall. "I'm not going to race a speeder," Razer stated bluntly, "and save your pathetic threats for somebody who really cares…" The Northerner cut off Erol as the redhead turned to speak, only to close his lips and glare at the black haired man.
"We should have realized Erol," Sheila's voice called over the low hum of three speeders that were pulling in beside the pair. Sheila, with her hair falling around her spiked deathtrap bike from a single horsetail dismounted along with Cyan, who rode a slim electric blue craft which matched the tint of her short locks, and Magenta on a large maroon cruiser. "He's hiding behind he precious reputation as one of the 'deadliest'," the Icelander put extra emphasis on the word by making quotes in the air with her fingers, "combat racing drivers around. He thinks it's beneath him to really risk his life on the track by racing a speeder."
The manner in which Sheila folder her arms and tossed out her hip to give Razer a presumptuous glare made the Northerner think for a split second he was looking in the mirror at a feminine version of himself. Her mimicry was an invisible slap in the face, causing the corner of his lip to curl upwards in an equally conceited jeer. "Risk?" Razer chuckled. "What kind of risk is there to a sport whose vehicles don't even have submachine guns? All it is, is flying around the track a couple of time to show who as the bigger engine. There's no challenge once you've left the competition behind, no obstacles, no danger." Razer smiled and took a puff on his drag, blowing a thick cloud of smoke between him and the others.
"Really? No challenge?" Sheila glanced over at Erol, whose amber stare was locked onto Razer as if he meant for the Northerner to suddenly be struck down dead by his cold glare. "Then you won't mine showing me a forty-five second lap on the track." She seized the keys out of the speeder in front of her and threw them at Razer. "I'm sure that wouldn't be too much of a 'challenge' since there are no 'obstacles' on the course. Just make sure you don't slam into a wall at those high speeds."
Razer caught the keys in his vacant fist only inches away from hitting his nose. He glanced skeptically from the ring in his hand to the speeder and back to Sheila with a raised eyebrow and a humored smirk. "Impossible," Razer chucked the keys right back at Sheila, who snatched them out of the air as easily as he had. "Nobody can get under forty-seven point sixty-three. That's the record my Havoc V12 set in the time trials before my retirement… Even I haven't been able to beat that time, and I'm pretty sure this bucket of bolts doesn't have the power to even get under a minute." Razer knew Erol was fast on the speeder but this time he knew they were dreaming; he knew the Kras City track like the back of his hand.
"Time trials you say?" Sheila spun on her heel to Cyan. While Razer, Erol and Sheila bickered, the other two had busied themselves preparing for an evening of racing. Magenta had gone off on her speeder patrolling for law enforcement, leaving Cyan to sit casually on the side of the track, a portable control board tapped into the main wiring board of the track. "Cyan? Can you set up Time Trials?" Cyan flashed a thumbs-up, never breaking her rapid typing on the keyboard as it glowed in the rising dusk. "Excellent, Erol?" She tossed him the keys. "Show Razer how it's done…" She smiled self-assuredly.
"With pleasure," Erol shot Razer a smug smirk and settled himself on the speeder, flicking down his mask and firing up the ignition. Ahead of them, the banner projectors raised and blue eco turbos materialized along the length of the track. On the side lines, Cyan hacked though the main frame computer and initialed the countdown, which appeared on both the hollow gram and the various spectator screens around the start line.
The banner flashed green and Erol took off in a blur of yellow down the straight into the first bend. Razer and Sheila were left behind in a blast of air that took Razer by surprise with its force. The commander had vanished in a blink of an eye while Sheila stood with a satisfied expression as she gazed at the Northerner, eyebrows raised. "Don't worry rookie," she teased as her hair resettled around her, "he'll be back shortly…" She stuffed her fingers into her jacket pockets and wandered back to the side of the wide track where Cyan sat atop the bridge wall.
Left standing in the center of the track, there was not much else for Razer to do but follow Sheila's lead in the distance he could still catch the sound of the speeder on the ocean breeze. Razer dropped his skeptical composure and his finished cigarette with an exasperated sigh. He crushed the filter beneath the sole of his boot as he strode over to Sheila, who was leaning on the wall gazing at the screen that sat on Cyan lap. "How did you do that?" Razer asked as he caught sight of Erol on the track monitor. The commander's time and position on the track were in the upper corners of it. Glancing at the computer in Cyan's grasp, he could see the blue and white ribbons of code and text running across the screen along with various other statistics.
"Sorry dear," Sheila rounded back to Razer on her other side. "I'm afraid that's a trade secret until we get legalized. See, not even I can crack all the firewalls the Kras City racing commission has set up, but Cyan here is one of the finest hackers I've ever met." Sheila grinned with pride. "Not to mention ruthless on and off the track…" She gave a side glance to the blue Marauder, who was still rapping her fingertips methodically on the keyboard and paying no attention toward Sheila's boasting for her. "I met her and Magenta when I went back to the Icelands after I retired from Haven's NYFE circuit. With my experience and Cyan's skill on a mainframe along with Magenta to be our muscle, we've managed to set up a pretty sweet gig in this town…"
Razer was taken slightly aback by Sheila's open confidence at her success. For a moment he forgot that the woman was jeopardizing the whole stability of combat racing and possibly his whole future as a driver and returned Sheila's smile with a quizzical half smirk of his own. He was having trouble grasping the concept that the youthful porcelain face of the Icelander before him had lived long enough to become a champion, retire and form her own underground movement. The thought was almost cruel compared to his own age he tried so hard to conceal at times.
The Northerner's train of thought was broken when the sounds of a speeder fast approaching pulled the two's attention from each other and up to the winding bridge. Erol was no more than a streak as he sped past where they sat and over the finish line. Razer glanced up to the track board, which was playing a recording of the run with the time of forty-four point seventy-seven. The Northerner's jaw hung and his upper lip curled in repulsion. He was only vaguely aware of Sheila asking "still thinking this sport's for kiddies?" along with a pat on his back prior to striding away to meet Erol back at the finish line.
"Hey fruit loop," Erol pried Razer's attention from the screen to see him and Sheila with the speeder and banner ready for another run. "It's your turn." A threatening glint as being kindled behind Erol's golden stare, which complimented the sublet up turn in the corner of the commander's mouth. "Unless, that is, you still think it's too hard…" His voice dripped with sympathetic scorn as he jingled the speeder keys in the air like a cat toy.
That was the final straw for Razer. Setting his jaw and returning Erol's gaze with a narrowed glare of his own, he mustered up enough pride to saunter across the track and snatch the dangling keys from the commander's fingers. He threw his leg over the waiting speeder just as Erol had done. It only took a moment for Razer to find the ignition and settled his left glove on the handle as he started the engine. The speeder roared to life; the sudden power that vibrated through his hand and up his arm made the Northerner hesitate. An unprotected feeling crept up Razer's spine when he realized there was no roll cage for this ride around the track. He had no steel bars and sheet metal to separate him and all too mortal body from the unforgiving asphalt.
"Now you do know how to drive one of these things, right?" Razer looked up from the ignition to see Sheila leaning over the front blade of the speeder. With any other girl the Northerner would have had an eyeful, but the Icelander's racing coat was buttoned tightly over any view a man's vision could catch, leaving only her slender neck and face to look at. Her countenance was a step below Erol's; treating him more like a child on his first bike than a baby. Razer swallowed what pride her had when he considered that the woman was not far from the truth. "Throttle is your right hand. Clutch is left hand and foot. Brake is right foot. Just remember to lean into the turns."
Razer gulped as Sheila gave him one last grin and stepped aside. Resting his right hand on the throttle and placing his feet on the pegs, he drew a deep inhale and braced himself. His wrist snapped on the handle and suddenly Razer sped down the straight with the wind blowing full force against his body.
"I'll give him a half an hour," Sheila said as she watched Razer's red jacket disappear along the first bend of the track. Glancing over to Erol, she saw the commander was staring back at her with a raised orange brow. Sheila took his silence with her own dose of pessimism. "You can use my speeder tonight…" She tapped her foot sullenly at the thought of paying for whatever damage Razer may inflict to Erol's speeder. "So," she eagerly jumped on a new topic, "how was last night?" The Icelander flashed a wide, overly-optimistic smile in hope of hiding her anguish of a repair bill.
The redhead's expression iced over before Sheila's eye. From what Erol knew of body language, he understood that the question had no hidden meaning just from her obnoxious grin, but that fact did not stop him from glaring daggers at the woman. He refused to justify the question with an answer and instead stalked right past her to lean on the wall beside Cyan. Ignoring the track monitor, he focused his attention on the ground, arms crossed over his chest. He had only himself to blame for the past night's pitfall. The only thing he wanted at the moment more than Razer driving headlong into a wall, however, was seeing Jak crash in a blazing inferno at the night's speeder race. Beside him, Cyan's constant rapping of keys made Erol glance up from his plotting to the computer screen and the Marauder's face. The woman was completely oblivious to him. Erol sighed and returned to staring at the pavement, brooding over how he was going to impose as much pain into his young nemesis as possible without ending the boy's life too soon.
Out in the middle of the start line, Sheila shrugged off Erol's cold shoulder and gave herself a quirky little simper of amusement. Judging by the commander's silence, Razer had tried out her peace offering with fortunate results on the Northerner's account. The idea was just enough to drive off her previous expense anxieties. Scuffing her boots along the asphalt with her hands folded behind her back, Sheila set off wandering down the road to see how far Razer had managed to go and make sure Magenta's patrolling had secured the area for her competition.
For Razer, the first length of the Kras City track flew by in a blur of adrenaline. All of his concentration was fixed on merely avoiding the walls on either side of the street, which appeared all too suddenly after he dove away from the last, causing him to twist back in the opposite direction. The Northerner was not even sure what in gear he careened down the track. He had shifted through the first thousand yards until he lost the increasing pitch of the rpm's to the monotone of the engine's hum. However, before Razer knew, he was looking through squinted eyes at a wall of red and yellow; one of the sharpest turns of the track and he was speeding straight towards the barrier.
Razer's pulse stopped. By instinct alone he leaned the speeder over on its side, releasing the handle bar and tumbling off the speeder to the asphalt. He landed hard on his shoulder, rolling with the force as the speeder's hum cut out without a hand on the throttle. The speeder crashed into the red and yellow barrier with a heavy clatter, like a large toy being dropped from a high point. The only thing saving the Northerner's face from the rough pavement was his arm and elbow. He could feel bruises forming in dull aches from his shoulder and elbow down to his hip and leg. Beneath his jacket, Razer felt a few of his ribs shooting spikes of anguish through his chest; he was sure they were from being broken in the fall.
Lying on the cool concrete, Razer let the shock of his first speeder solo ebb away. Weapons or not, he learned a hard lesson not to underestimate anything small and unstably fast. Razer used his left arm, which was the less bruised of the two, to hoist himself to his feet when his nerves settled. He ached from head to tow, but pushed the pain to the back of his mind; he had been in worse wrecks during combat racing and still managed to cross the finish line. He would accept no different for a speeder. Gritting his teeth and putting on as calm a face he could, the Northerner walked with a slight limp over to where the speeder laid on its side.
"Not as easy as you thought is it?" a familiar voice caused Razer to look back to see Sheila wandering up the track towards him. She was wearing an uncanny smirk on her face that made the Northerner's blood boil. Drawling himself up to his full height with his teeth clenched, Razer tried to retain what dignity he still had by not showing pain. However, Sheila's grin only doubled into a soft chuckle as she drew closer. "Are you alright?" She asked in earnest when she saw Razer's disheveled coat.
Razer glanced down at his jacket. The red fabric was ripped at the shoulder seam and frayed from the pavement. He shrugged. "Of course, why wouldn't I be? Every race has to take a tumble now and again." He gave a little sneer in return. Razer was not going to give the Icelander the opportunity to prey on any weakness; she did not need that sort of satisfaction from him.
"Too true," Sheila dug in her pocket for a moment and pulled out a glowing green pack, "which is why they should always be prepared." She held up the eco health pack before tossing it to Razer. As the Northerner chose to break the pack over his broken ribs, she closed the distance between them.
"You always have some kind of eco on you?" Razer asked as he felt a cool tingling sensation ice over his side. Beneath his jacket, his broken ribs mended on their own accord leaving a numb line along the freshly healed bone. He took a deep inhale to test the green eco's strength and received only a frosty chill up his side rather than stabbing pains.
"Only when I think it may come in handy," Sheila was standing over the abandoned speeder, running a black finger over her pale pink lip absentmindedly as she examined the damage. Despite a badly bent front blade and a few scrapes, the craft was fin to her relief. She could easily repair the speeder herself if it came down to money. "Listen," Sheila looked up at Razer, her sapphire eyes bright with inspiration. "How about I show you the ropes on this thing," the Icelander pulled the bike upright with little effort. "Then you can drop me off at the top of the home stretch so I can meet up with Magenta."
The prideful Northerner had been prepared to shoot down Sheila's offer for his own sake, but the words caught on the tip of this tongue. He did not want Erol seeing him being taught by a woman. However, Sheila must have understood his dilemma of proving himself while maintaining his self-esteem, and offered to be dropped off before he crossed the finish line. Razer also knew another run on the speeder along would only end in more broken bones. "Fine," he said when no excuse came to his mind and willingly walked over to remount the speeder.
Sheila waited with and hand on her hip as Razer started the engine and positioned himself on the controls. Then, resting a steadying hand on the Northerner's shoulder, she straddled the back of the bike and reached around his broad shoulder to lay her fingerless gloves over his yellow gauntlets. Her chin fitted in the niche above his shoulder, cheek lightly brushing his ear. As Sheila lifted her boot to set it beside Razer's on the peg, she felt the man tense slightly with the closeness of their bodies, her torso pressing flat against his back. "Relax," she said with a quiet giggle. "I know you're not into women…" She had to grin as Razer shot her a dirty glare over his shoulder, but nonetheless relaxed to let her put her final foot on the peg.
"Alright, ready?" Sheila asked and Razer's knuckles tightened on the throttle. "Easy, be gentle with her at first." Razer's eyes flicked to Sheila's lowed voice; it betrayed her passion for having such a cold exterior. Sighing a little with impatience, he loosened his muscles enough to feel Sheila's body against his, wondering at how at ease she was laying her body along the lines of his own until he could hardly tell were they were two separate individuals. Razer had expected the uncomfortable push against his back that came with any woman's chest, but to his surprise, he could not distinguish the Icelander's breasts from the rest of her torso. The fact was unusual compared to the buxom women he raced against and was a welcomed relief from that distraction.
By the beginning of the home stretch which was the winding bridge to the finish line, Razer was able to shift through all of the gears while remaining in control of the speeder. He barely noticed Sheila's hands guiding his movements through the rhythm until she let go. Retreating back to grip her arms around Razer's waist, she let him have full control of driving. Her actions, however, set the Northerner's mind on edge. He half expected Sheila to make some sort of advance on him while he was venerable, but it never came. Before he realized, he was drawling to a halt beside Magenta's cruiser, where the Marauder sat chattering away on a communicator in her hand.
"Thanks for the lift, fly boy," Sheila gave a friendly pat on the Northerner's shoulder for a job well done and hopped off. "Get off that communicator and get back to work Magenta!" The Icelander barked turning on her friend. Without a second thought, Magenta snapped the link shut and scrambled out of the cruiser. Sheila looked back over her shoulder with her hands placed with authority on her waist. "You still here?" She asked to Razer, who was looking at her with a confused expression.
Sheila's attitude snapped Razer out of his daze. The woman was a complete puzzle, one moment she was a complete tease and the next she was totally uninterested in him. A flare of annoyance burnt out his thoughts for the Icelander and Razer shot the woman a final threatening glare prior to taking off down the home stretch to where Erol and Cyan waited.
A feeling of self-fulfillment washed over Razer as he crossed over the finish line and managed to pull a U-turn back to Erol in a single fluid motion. The Northerner gazed at the brooding commander with a confident smirk. Erol, however, only stared silently back at Razer, amber eyes narrowed skeptically. Raising an orange eyebrow, he glanced to the track monitor, which replayed Sheila teaching Razer to drive and the time of twenty three minutes and nineteen seconds. The Northerner gave a low growl and rounded the speeder back to the start line for another lap.
A/N: Finally, finished this chapter... If you ask me its time to go back and check of a bit more of Jak. Looking forward for the POV change in the next chapter as Jak and Erol face off for a little unofficial speeder racing. Needed to take a little more time for this chapter just because sometimes u get tired of the same thing... but i think now im rested and read for another run at it. Horray for Jak!