Part 9

Velocity

Speed is sought, and speed is gained. Trading becomes trickery. Allies compete, and allies work together. A race is run, and a race is won. A storm rages. New friends are made, and an old enemy is confronted.

A legend continues.

Chapter 1: Sure to Lose

Aerrow and Radarr were in Aerrow's Skimmer, racing across the hot, red deserts of Terra Saharr as fast as they could go. Normally, the only thing that would ever draw Aerrow to this dust bowl of a terra was the bazaar. You can get almost anything you want there, and there are some pretty good deals for items if you want to haggle a bit. It was a good place to get supplies. But right now, Aerrow wasn't there for that. This time, he was here for something much bigger.

They came off a mound of dirt and saw the vertical stacks of rocks about them. Other than that, it was mostly clear sailing. Even so, Radarr didn't deploy the wings. They biking it this time.

As they came down the hill and hit the ground, Radarr glanced behind him and squawked. "I know, I know," Aerrow answered anxiously. The Sky Knight was painfully aware of the four skyrides following on his tail, and his heart beat a mile a minute as he sped away as fast as his Vulcan could take him. He came off two more mounds, trying desperately to outdo them, but his pursuers didn't let up.

Then something horrible happened; the needles of his gauges began to go down and his engine began to smoke. His Air Skimmer III Ultra could not take the stress of the race, old and rundown as it was. Radarr looked extremely concerned. "Don't worry," Aerrow assured him. "Like I always say, it's the rider, not the ride."

At that moment, Aerrow smiled. He was in for a thrill now! They were driving off a cliff!

Radarr squawked fearfully as the Vulcan leaped off the edge of the cliff and bounced off one tower of rock, then another before landing on the ground again in the section of Terra Saharr's desert known as the Sands of Sibular, a place littered with rock towers. Radarr churred and shook his head to rid himself of the dizziness from the trick, but he smiled all the same. After all, they were doing great!

But Aerrow knew they weren't home free yet. The four other drivers were gaining on them. "Here they come," Aerrow warned his copilot as he looked over his shoulder. Radarr glanced back and gritted his teeth together as their pursuers drove down the slight incline of the cliff face.

Then he raised his nose to the air. What in the world was that horrible smell? Was something burning?

Aerrow heard Radarr squawk his warning, but the Sky Knight had already seen it. The engine was smoking again and sending up yellow sparks. The Skimmer could not handle the stress Aerrow was pushing her to. She bolted forward, only to growl and slow. Aerrow's heart beat faster as he glanced behind him at the other four drivers again. At this rate, he wasn't going to make it. He turned back to his Vulcan. "Come on, baby, come on!" he coaxed her.

But it did no good. The needles on her gauges sank again. Her bow began to smoke, and when the controls started to spark, Aerrow knew it was time to go overboard. Grabbing Radarr by his long rabbit-like ears, he jumped free of the Skimmer as it fell on its side in a cloud of black smog and dust.

Aerrow gasped as he bounced off his knees, then his rump, before finally getting a grip with his feet. He and Radarr scrambled to find balance, but the force of the fall tripped Aerrow up on his stomach. The copilot squeaked in surprise as he was flung into the air, and he landed on his chest and chin as he hit the ground next to Aerrow, his eyes rolling in their sockets.

Aerrow glanced at him only a moment just to be sure he was alright. Pushing himself off the ground, he turned around and held his hand over his eyes to block the blinding desert sun to face his humiliating situation. Radarr turned around and let his eyes focus, and then he, too, blocked the sun and glared at those amused.

Their pursuers had pulled to a stop before them. One of them was a dark-skinned man with high cheeks bones. Not far behind him, a redheaded woman gazed at Aerrow, her body surprisingly lacking much clothing despite the unforgiving desert sun, although she had plenty of tattoos. She covered with clothing only what was appropriate to cover. The rider to her left was a burly, blond man of Nordic build. The last was also strong of build. His head was bald, and he had a tattoo of flame showing on his shirtless chest between the two sides of his vest. All were well-armored. They were Sky Knights, some of them Sky Knights Aerrow even recognized; the woman was the leader of the all-female squadron, the Screaming Queens; the Nordic-like man was the leader of the burly Buff Buzzards; and the tattooed man he knew by name. He was Blister, Sky Knight of the Third Degree Burners and host of the mighty event that had brought Aerrow to this terra.

All of them smirked at Aerrow from his embarrassing position on the ground. Aerrow could only glare back, although he had to admit that he himself was far from satisfied with his performance. Blister got off his Third Degree Burner Air Skimmer, a type of Air Skimmer that the Third Degree Burners had modified to be even more heavily armored and to have three extra thrusters for the high winds of the frequent sandstorms of the area. And they were fast, faster than almost all other Skimmers. Aerrow burned with envy to have such speed now. But of course, it made sense. Bad-tempered Blister was extremely competitive, and racing was his thing.

Blister marched up to Aerrow and stood before him, frowning distastefully. Aerrow only returned the look and waited for the retort he was bound to get. He couldn't quite see the older Sky Knight's face as he stood under the light of the desert sun. "You want to win the race tomorrow," Blister said in a surprisingly high pitched voice with an Australian accent, "get a better ride." He leaned in and smirked at the boy, blocking the sun and leaning in so close that Aerrow didn't need to strain his eyes to observe the details of his nose ring.

Aerrow and Radarr exchanged glances, and Radarr churred in irritation as the other Sky Knights laughed at them. Blister got back on his Skimmer, and the four of them drove away in hysterics, sending up a dust cloud behind them.

Aerrow coughed on the dust as they drove away. Radarr lifted his goggles, and he and Aerrow exchanged desperate looks. Aerrow knew they were right. His Skimmer could not take this. It was too old, the engine was too slow. There was little hope of him winning the Great Atmos Race, the annual bike race across Terra Saharr. He longed to take home the Velocity Crystal Amulet, the powerful velocity crystal on a chain necklace that served as the prize for the winner, but he couldn't see how that would be possible for him. Radarr whimpered as if he could read his thoughts, and two sat there cross-legged on the dusty salt flats in despair.

Across the desert flats, beyond the red mounds of dirt, was a huge wall of stone. Within its walled boundaries was Tent City where Sky Knight squadrons from around the Atmos had come for their Sky Knights to enter in the Great Atmos Race, each hoping that their Sky Knight would take home the Velocity Crystal Amulet. Their carriers were parked not far from the city. Four of them were parked close by at either corner, the choice spots reserved only for the Sky Knight squadrons who got there first. It was no surprise that the Third Degree Burner Airship was among them. Yet in the opposite corner was the Condor, taking her rightful place after ten years of being absent.

Bunches of chickens flocked the streets, undisturbed by the noise and clamor around them. The Sky Knight of the Absolute Zeroes walked down the middle of the dusty street under an umbrella. The Absolute Zeroes were the Sky Knight squadron of Terra Blizzaris, thereby Blizzarians. Blizzarians were coyote-like humanoids with rabbit-like ears and pointed teeth. Their fur was long with a soft undercoat and the course outer coat like that of a wolf, so thick that snow would not melt on their bodies. With all these tools used for cold weather, it was no wonder the Blizzarian Sky Knight was looking for shade from the hot desert sun under the umbrella.

Not far from the Blizzarian, the Rebel Ducks were hammering away at their Sky Knight's Skimmer. Blister walked down the street purposefully past the Blizzarian. Two Sky Knights drove down the street. The lead chicken of the flock clucked as she passed others working on their skyrides. The Blizzarian headed toward its Ice Grinder, where the other Absolute Zeroes were examining it. Everyone was anticipating the big day.

Aerrow noted all of this as he told Finn what happened to him and Radarr out on the flats. He sat on his partially repaired Vulcan, feeling miserable about his humiliating crash. Everyone else was doing fine but him, it seemed, even the cold-loving Blizzarians. The good news was that the other Sky Knights had been generous enough not to spread rumors. No one was whispering or glancing at him. That was something.

When he finished explaining, Finn smiled. "So the other Sky Knights totally blew past you in the practice run," he said. "Big deal. That's just practice."

Aerrow rubbed the back of his neck and let a little light in on his anxiousness as a small smile crept across his lips. Yeah, Finn was right. Only practice.

"The Storm Hawk always win the Great Race," Finn assured, waving his hand dismissively.

Aerrow knew he was right. It was Lightning Strike, Aerrow's ancestor, who had won for so many years. And if he could do it, than so could he!

Aerrow didn't have much time to take confidence in that before Finn grunted as someone ran into his back. "Always won," corrected a voice with an Australian accent. The sharpshooter turned around, and Aerrow raised his eyes. It was another tattooed, bare-chested man, which revealed him to be another Third Degree Burner. His fiery-red hair stood up in a Mohawk with small, pointed beard to match, and he sported a ring in his left ear. It was Burner, in charge of the Third Degree Burner's heavy ballistics. "The Race hasn't been run in ten years," he reminded the boys. "I'd bet you new pups aren't half as good as the old Storm Hawks." He crossed his arms, smiling smugly at them.

"Oh, really?" Finn challenged, pointing a finger at Burner.

Aerrow put a hand in front of his sharpshooter. "Let it go, Finn," he advised.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Radarr stand up and turn around, attracted by his boy's voice and churring in wonder that Aerrow wasn't standing up for himself.

But Aerrow had his reasons. Finn didn't always think before he leaped. Aerrow didn't either, come to think of it, but at least he made educated guesses. Finn normally got into trouble. Besides, traits that all the Third Degree Burners had in common were that they were big, strong, had bad tempers, and had a love of good fights and bets. And Burner was the worst of them all. When he said "bet," he meant it.

Finn seemed to realize that last bit as well, but he wasn't approaching with caution. "Well, I'd be willing to bet anything on Aerrow," Finn declared as he pointed a thumb back at his Sky Knight.

Aerrow frowned. That wasn't always necessarily a good thing, especially in this situation. Besides, Finn was giving credit where credit wasn't due, in Aerrow's opinion. Sure he was good at some things, but certainly not always great. And anything was pushing it. Big time.

But Burner was interested. "Really?" he said, leaning toward Finn. "Then how 'bout this? If your boy doesn't leave Saharr wearing the Crystal Amulet, you wash our carrier," he motioned toward the Third Degree Burner Airship, "for a year."

Finn cast Aerrow a confident grin, but Aerrow kept frowning and raised an eyebrow at him. Was Finn actually considering it? He hoped not. He didn't need his sharpshooter employed on another carrier working as a janitor for a year.

It was a pretty nice carrier, Aerrow noted. His eye was not quite as skilled as Stork's or Junko's at recognizing great vehicles, but his Sky Knight experiences and his own interest in good rides had given him a good idea of something somewhat worthwhile. The Third Degree Burner Airship was a massive two-tired ship, nearly twice as large as the Condor. She had four crystal jet turbine engines for extra bursts of speed, typical of something designed by the speed-loving Third Degree Burners. She had two separate tiers, the lower appearing to be the living quarters. Three legs kept her upright in her parked position. A good ship as far as Aerrow could tell, but her flame-painted side was dusty and grungy. Aerrow admitted to himself that a little cleaning would do her some good.

Piper walked onto the scene just in time to hear the bet proposed, and she stopped and looked at the carrier with her hands on her hips. "Hmm, a year of Finn doing all the cleaning?" she said as she turned around and placed her hand to her mouth in fake shock. She pointed a thumb back at the ship. "That's gonna be one dirty carrier."

The bettors frowned at her, almost as if they were angry at her for interrupting man talk. Finn even crossed his arms. However, he didn't respond to her comment. Instead he turned to Burner and held a finger to his face, saying, "You're on!" The two gave each other a high-five and bumped knuckles, substituting for a handshake. The deal was set.

Aerrow wasn't really happy about it, and Piper didn't look so certain, either. She put her hand to her cheek, giving Finn a concerned look. The sharpshooter just smiled at her as Burner walked away. "Relax," he insisted. "Aerrow's a Storm Hawks." He shrugged and beamed. "There's no way he can lose!"

Stork lifted up his protective mask as he finished his examination of Aerrow's Skimmer. "There's no way he can win," he stated from where he sat on the supply box with his tool kit next to him.

Finn and Piper stood behind him, and Aerrow was beyond them getting a box of supplies for Stork to work with. They were in the tent marked with the Storm Hawk's symbol, which they had set up close to where they had parked the Condor. Aerrow didn't like the sound of what Stork was saying, but he refuse to limit his mind's eye to his ride. But Finn was more openly concerned. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"It's a simple matter of gimbal rotation and gyroscopic procession," Stork answered.

"Um, once again," Finn asked, sounding confused this time, "what do you mean?"

"Aerrow's ride isn't fast enough," Piper defined for him as Stork went back to turning his wrench on one of the Vulcan's bolts.

Finn and Piper turned around and looked out the tent when they heard engines roaring. The Blizzarian Sky Knight was at the starting line, and the dark-skinned Sky Knight and the Buff Buzzard Sky Knight were gunning their engines, waiting to begin their practice run against each other. The Blizzarian lowered its arms, and the Sky Knights shot forward. Finn frowned. They had taken off at much faster speeds than Aerrow's Skimmer had ever dared to start, even though Aerrow was able to get every last ounce of energy and more out of his ride. "Oh!" Finn moaned as he shrugged.

Aerrow wasn't going to let his own hopes run too high, but he had to believe in chances and so did his squadron. "Hey," he encouraged Finn, stopping in front of him as he held Stork's next tool box. "It's the rider, not the ride. I'll be fine with what I got."

Just then, Stork drew away from the Vulcan, saying, "Whoa!" as she set off sparks, expressing her thoughts on Stork's vain attempts to adjust her speed. Aerrow grimaced, forgetting to hide his lack of confidence from his squadron. It didn't look as if there was much hope for him after all.

Finn turned to Aerrow with an air of despair. "Easy for you to say," he said as he pointed at him, referring to Aerrow's old saying. "If you lose, you'll just end up crashed somewhere in the desert. Me?" he added, putting his hands on his chest. "I'll be humiliated!"

Yeah, Aerrow thought sarcastically. I have it so much better. There's no hardship or humiliation when you're stranded in the middle of the desert.

They both turned as they heard Stork using some sort of drilling tool in a desperate effort. It only resulted in the right wing, the cockpit, and the front wheel falling off. The Skimmer fell over on its side, the wheel rolling away to crash in another pile of metal. Finn put his head in his hand. Aerrow didn't feel any better.

Finn was beginning to give his pride up for lost at the sight of Aerrow's Vulcan being a disaster, so he retreated to the one place where all the Sky Knight squadron members hung out when they were overly cheerful, overly despaired, or just wanting something better to do. He went to the tent hosting Tent City's bar.

It was more than just a bar, of course; otherwise the idea of letting a fourteen-year-old in would have been looked down upon. It also served as a restaurant, a sort of cafeteria for the racers and their squadrons. However, the food tasted suspiciously of sand, but Finn wasn't picky at the moment.

He listened to the bustle inside as he waited for his meal. The Sky Knight of the Buff Buzzards was happily draining a metal cup, and Finn had the feeling that it didn't contain water, and skoat's milk wasn't served here. Two Blizzarians entered the bar. Their Sky Knight was at the booth, clanking jugs with a Screaming Queen.

The Sky Knight of the Screaming Queens and the dark-skinned Sky Knight were in the corner, smiling shyly at each other. The dark-skinned Knight was leaning very close toward the Screaming Queen. Finn wondered if there was something going on over there with them. If so, then the queen of the Queens must have had more than a few drinks because the Screaming Queens had a thing about sex and love affairs . . . and men in general, really. The dark-skinned one certainly was a little tipsy, holding his jug in his hand. Yet they might be just having casual talk. If it was gossip they were discussing, Finn had the itching feeling that it was about the news of his Sky Knight's Skimmer and his chances in the race. It made Finn feel about as comfortable as the first thought did.

Although one of the lovely Screaming Queens was sitting only too seats away, Finn didn't care. He leaned forward on the table and rested his head on his hand as the waiter shoved his lunch in front of him. It was chicken, as always. Tent City was crawling with them. Alongside it were potatoes and some purple desert fruit that Finn did not recognize. It looked appetizing enough, though—almost like grapes. Maybe the fruit wouldn't taste like sand.

The dark-skinned Sky Knight whispered something in the Screaming Queen Sky Knight's ear, making her frown and turn and glare at him while he shrugged and smiled expectantly. The sound of punches in the background confirmed Finn's earlier suspicions about the two and also assured him that the Screaming Queen was now putting the dark-skinned Knight back in his place. Even then, with all this excitement, Finn didn't care. He was about to be a janitor for year. With that looming over his head, no amount of excitement could lift his mood.

Finn was about to begin to eat when suddenly Junko was there. He put his arm around Finn's shoulder and picked up his bowl. "Aw, cheer up, buddy!" he encouraged Finn before pouring the sharpshooter's lunch in his mouth. Finn frowned in annoyance as Junko set the bowl down again. The things you tolerate for friendship! Whether or not the food tasted like sand, he was hungry. He ignored Junko and held up a finger to call the waiter for another bowl.

"I'd save your money," a familiar voice said, "cuz you're gonna need it to buy yourself some soap and sponges when your boy loses!"

Finn's skin prickled with irritation. He and Junko turned around to see Burner and two other Third Degree Burners smirking at them and laughing. Finn hated the way they gloated and laughed and the way they kept calling Aerrow his "boy" rather than his "Sky Knight." Hopeless as it was, Finn wasn't going to look chicken if only to stand up to the big fellows. "Hah, hah," he mimicked them. "Laugh it up." He pointed to them. "You'll be singing a different tune when the race is over."

"Well," Burner retorted, "it might sound different because I'll singing it in my freshly-cleaned cruiser!" At that, the three of them walked away laughing.

Finn shrugged and sighed. Junko looked at him with concern. They were probably right, Finn thought to himself. It didn't look like Aerrow was going to win. Oh, if only he hadn't made that bet! He turned back to the counter and held up his finger again. "Better make the next one a double," he told the waiter.

A coin flew forward and spun around in front of him. "Allow me," a voice offered.

Finn looked up. A Sky Knight dressed in a purple uniform and sporting X-shaped shoulder plates and a helmet with an X-shaped symbol on its front stood before them. The helmet hid his face like a dark mask that only his blood-red eyes penetrated. It was the Sky Knight of Terra Xerxxes. He was a rather secretive Knight, so secretive that no one even knew his name or the name of his squadron. No one had ever seen his face. It was a miracle that he had even shown up at the Race all this year considering his reputation of never competing. He trusted no one but those in his squadron. And yet, he was talking to the Storm Hawks, the pups of the place. "I think you and I can," he leaned forward and stopped the spinning coin, looking straight at Finn, "help each other out."

Finn and Junko exchanged glances. Finn looked back up at the Knight of Xerxxes, who blinked at them expectantly. There was something about his voice that Finn didn't like, but he couldn't place it. For some reason, it reminded him of Aerrow in battle, but he didn't know why. Something in him was warning him off the purple Knight's offer, but just like he did with the bet, he ignored that voice. Anything to help Aerrow win the Race couldn't be that bad.

Author's Notes: Oh, Finn you are playing a dangerous game . . .

Storm Hawks related trivia: I'll explain Stork's gadget talk. You know, the talk that Finn couldn't understand. "Gimbal rotation" refers to the revolving of an interconnected mechanism with independently moving parts. "Gyroscopic procession" is . . . well . . . I'll break this one down. A gyroscope is a mechanism that consists of a rotating heavy metal wheel that pivots inside a circular frame. This frame's movement doesn't affect the wheel's spinning unless it's touching the ground (which it should be). So "gyroscopic procession" is how efficiently the wheels turn and the number of times they spin in a certain unit of time.

Rather than have another trivia this one time, I would like to take this opportunity to credit Magus732 and Sakariwolfe for pointing out things that I didn't know or overlooked. Magus732 stated that, back in "Gale Force Winds," when Finn shouted, "Niner, niner!" he was probably referring to direction, "as in at his nine o'clock" as Magus732 said. Sakariwolfe reminded me that there is a city called Bogotá and that Terra Bogaton may possibly have been named after that, although I don't see any similarities between the two. Also she pointed out that scientists are thinking of switching dinosaurs from reptilian to avian.

Well, I got Aerrow back (yay!) and I also got to do some Finn toward the end. I was actually very surprised while watching this episode again to write about it. I didn't notice what was going on between the Sky Knight of the Screaming Queens and the dark-skinned Sky Knight at first, and when I did, I was shocked. I didn't think Storm Hawks had any hit themes bigger than its age group other than war and tyranny, but apparently it does, because it was apparent that the dark-skinned Knight wanted to do something with the Screaming Queen. Whether it was just a simple statement of, "Nice butt," or something as drastic as "getting down and dirty," I guess we'll never know. All we know is that the Screaming Queen did not like it! Don't believe me? Well, next time you watch the episode, watch the two of them very carefully in the bar, and you'll see what I'm talking about!

Oh yes . . . and review. Reviews are always nice. They make me happy! What? Why are you looking at me like that's a bad thing? ': /