Yeah, yeah, don't own any oc's. yeah, myschyf is also mine.

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Chapter 4; On Your Mark, Get Set.

"AHYI!" screamed Parm as he was magged into the air. They had been using the underground obstacle track to practice, and thought Lance and Kett were doing better than ever, Parm had only minimally improved. This was due to the fact that he was scared of being blasted fifty feet into the air, while going two-hundred miles per hour.

After he saw Parm screaming, Lance burst out laughing in mid-leap. The good news was that Beau had enough power to keep Lance up; the bad news was that Lance forgot to duck a ledge. Artha caught his little brother as Lance fell.

Kett idly blasted another target with her mag-bow, a combination of a crossbow and mag shooter. An arrow of turquoise Draconium shot out at tremendous speed. It contacted with the practice target, which dissipated. She and Moordryd shared many Draconium influences, black, turquoise, and red, making them a good team. Their issue was Kett reacted faster than Moordryd, and occasionally jumped before Decepshun could mag her. This resulted in some interesting falling.

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Unbeknownst to the six, Mortis was watching from behind a statue. He was observing, and wondering if having Moordryd join was the right thing. He had done it because the original dragon Booster had had help from the Black Draconium Empire to end the war. He knew that Moordryd still had a slight, though usually controlled, crave for his father's satisfaction. He had seen Moordryd chatting about it with Decepshun from time to time. About how from childhood he had yearned for approval, for appreciation. Occasionally for an acknowledgement of his existence, most of the times though, he just was sad, not knowing what he should do. Mortis had observed this, in shock that anyone could treat their child like this, their own flesh and blood. Perhaps Word was less human than even Mortis thought.

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"Even though I kept getting lectures for not catching the black-and-gold dragon, I think my biggest mistake was when I accidentally locked everyone out of the citadel, I was grounded for three scale-scrapin' weeks!" snickered Moordryd, everyone was recounting their biggest mistakes, and watching the other's reactions. Lance had gotten the biggest ovation, when he recounted the time he raced in Artha's place, dangling from one stirrup. (From Three Times a Hero) They had all taken a break from practicing, and Parm was making gear repairs.

"Kett," he called, "How do you keep using this thruster gear, it's near out of commission. You should really get a new set."

"It's level four gear, do you have any clue how much it would cost to replace?" she called back, and went back to repairing her bow.

Parm sighed, and decided just to try a new Draconium energy core, as there really wasn't much else to do. Moordryd's whip had needed re-calibrating; Lance's flash stick had needed a new light panel, and so on. It was exasperating, as they needed winnings to pay for everything, and there hadn't been races for a week and a half. So they were buying cheap parts, repairing old gear, and (Moordryd and Kett) were getting back-alley bargains. As a result, Parm was swamped, and had showed the others how to do basic repairs, as he had to deal with the major stuff.

At least the dragons were in good condition, aside from basic fix-in five-minute problems, like Beau's pent up energy, or Fracshun's claws getting too long.

Kitt and Artha were putting the star symbol on the racing uniforms. Moordryd's jacket was proving difficult; the Dragon-Eye logo just would not come off. Finally, they poured bleach on the logo, and it faded enough to put the star over it. Basically the star would be on the back of the jackets (Lance had gotten a new totally drac blue one), and on some of the gear, like Moordryd's Psi Assist, and Artha's Light-Green reflection gear from the Keepers Crew.

Moordryd was re-painting his helmet, changing the main part from its reddish-hue to pitch black, he thought it looked better. Moordryd was also keeping an eye on Lance, who was fetching parts for Parm, and was dropping more than he carried over.

"That helmet looks drac!" called Kett, finished with her bow, and moving on to her cousin's broken mag-staff (from Fanning the Flames), as she was fairly good at repair, but not a patch on Parm. The Libris Pike was the next morning, so they all would need to sleep well that night.

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Moordryd stretched, he had slept soundly, and by the looks of it, so had everyone else. They rode down to the track, and found it swamped with crews. The Inner Order, Dragon Eye, Dragon Flares, Army of the Dragon, and the Prophets were there. Moordryd was pleased to see Vysa's eyes widen in shock, and then narrow in furry at the fact that her older brother was here. She leaned over and whispered something to Mecra, who nodded.

Moordryd felt a slight pang at seeing Cain, who was paired with the young Dragon Eye Myschyf. He could tell that Cain wouldn't like this race, Myschyf was a terrible driver, and Cain didn't like heights so mag jumping would be a problem for him. Moordryd sighed, and walked over to the rest of his crew.

"So,' started Parm, "only one group of us actually has to win, the others could be three feet from the starting line, oh, and my scans pick up no wraith dragons."

"That's not Vysa's style, she says wraith gear is too ugly," said Moordryd idly, waiting for the ref to signal for racers to take their places.

whistle

The race was about to begin.

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The next chapter is: Chapter Five; A Defeated Victory. Don't worry not much trouble.