Liz Ricarro sat in the cockpit of her mech, its back scraping the hard pavement of the track. She was quickly losing speed, and also the race. But she wasn't angry

"Shit!" she screamed, with a smile on her face. She stomped on her foot pedals. Her mech did a backwards somersault, and came up on its feet again.

She turned her mech's wide, imposing shoulders to face her nearby opponent. He stood there, long arms out, blocking her progress. "I'll get you for that, you sneaky little bastard!" She leaned forward, her mech's fist cocked back to strike. She grinned wickedly. "We're just getting started!"

Earlier that day, the atmosphere was much more calm, with no screams, no track, and especially, no opponents. Liz opened her eyes to find herself in her own bed, fully dressed as usual. She sighed contentedly. She liked her workout clothes. They were comfortable, and allowed full range of motion. Plus, they showed off her impressive physique (although she pretended not to notice this fact).

She rolled over, about to go back to sleep, but jumped when she came face-to-face with someone in bed with her. Her half-awake mind wondered what she had done the night before, before realizing that her companion was none other than Luca, her cybernetic-brained feline teammate (not a member of her species, thankfully).

Her heartbeat slowed again, content that she had not done anything she would regret later. She reached up and scratched Luca's head.

"Quite a scare you gave me there, Luca." She giggled. "For a second there, I thought you were Takeshi. Then I'd really have some explaining to do."

Liz sat up, prompting Luca to walk to the foot of the bed. He sat there looking at her, puzzled at her remark.

Liz quickly held up her hands defensively. "Not like I'd ever think of doing something like that with Takeshi! Come on, Luca! What do you take me for?"

Luca tilted his head for a moment, before stretching and laying down again. Snore-like purring quickly followed.

Liz got up, careful not to disturb her sleeping comrade. "I swear, sometimes that cat is just too smart for its own good." She thought she glimpsed one of Luca's eyes open, but he was sound asleep when she looked at him fully. She walked to her personal computer and turned it on, and was rewarded with a new message.

Team meeting in the conference room, 9:30 sharp. -André

Liz glanced at her clock. It read 9:57. She jumped up, grabbed her ID card and shoes, and bolted out the door.

She skidded out of her room, just finishing tying her shoes, when she ran headlong into Takeshi. They fell, leaving her pressed on top of him.

He looked up at her, surprised. "Liz? Where've you been? André was just about to walk out when he sent me to look for you."

She paused, not wanting to let slip that she had overslept. "Uh, I was in the gym, for a morning workout. Yeah, that's right."

"Okay." Takeshi squirmed uncomfortably. "Hey, Liz?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you get off me now, please?"

She blushed a little, but was thankful that her dark complexion hid it. "Oh, sorry."

They stood up, and Takeshi brushed himself off. "Well, anyway, André is still waiting. Let's go before he quits the team, Okay?"

Liz smiled, still a little embarrassed. "Sure. Lead the way."

Liz spent the majority of the team meeting with her chin on her fist, frowning. She had managed to start the day frightened, anxious and embarrassed. And it didn't seem to be getting better. André was babbling on about something or other, and Liz was too engrossed in her own thoughts to pay any attention.

"And that is why we are going to lose horribly, and be shunned by the entire IG-1." Liz looked up at that last sentence by André.

She tilted her head at him quizzically, not unlike Luca had done earlier. "What do you mean, lose horribly? We've already won the championship. We've beaten every team in the league before, and we'll do it again." She crossed her arms. "Are you implying that we're losing our edge?"

André smiled. "Not at all. If you and Takeshi had been paying attention," Takeshi looked up now, and Liz saw that he had been playing a portable game system below his desk. "You would know that I'm talking about the one team we've never beaten. Team Firestorm has just been promoted into the Pro League. We've never even raced them before, let alone beaten them. And they've got an impressive record."

He turned to the room's giant projector screen, and pressed a button on his remote. Three mechs, all bright orange and white, popped up, frozen in place. One certain detail of their formation caught Liz's attention.

"Hey, André. Why is their midfielder in the back? It doesn't even look like they have a defender."

André's smile vanished. "If you had been listening, you would have heard me explain all this the first time. Amy," Liz's third teammate, who had been staring at the screen, looked at him eagerly. "Would you mind recapping my little presentation for your teammates?"

"Okay, André." She turned to Takeshi and Liz. "Firestorm has been sweeping the IG-2. In their debut season , they've only lost one race, to Team Black Egg. And we know how tough they were. They use a new style of racing. You were right in a way, Liz. They have a defender, but his mech isn't exactly your normal defender model." She nodded to André.

He pressed another button, and a blueprint of the third mech came up, with technical readouts pointing to various sections. Its thin form made it look unusually tall, especially with its exceptionally long arms and legs. Its arms ended not in clubs, which was common in the IGPX, but in long, jointed fingers, more like Liz's mech's. She had been right, it looked more like a big midfielder than a defender.

Amy continued. "This is the mech of Jeremy Vardeman, Team Firestorm's defender." A picture appeared next to the mech's head. It showed a young man's head, with dark brown hair and an amused expression on his face. His eyes had a fiery look in them, as if he was ready to blaze into motion at any moment.

Liz raised an eyebrow. "So what's so special about this guy? Sure, his mech's different, but so what? Is he any good?"

André spoke up again. "I'll take over now, Amy. Thanks." He walked in front of the screen and looked at the three pilots in front of him. "Now, what I'm about to show you will come very fast, but is very important. Watch closely."

He stepped back, and tapped another button.

The screen showed Vardeman's mech, closely followed by another, dark blue one. André paused the video for a moment. He pointed to the blue mech. "This is Team Velocity's midfielder, trying to pass."

He pressed play, and the blue mech approached the taller orange one. Orange turned to face blue, and in the blink of an eye, the blue mech was missing both arms, and was tumbling backwards down the track.

Vardeman's mech raised its massive fists, each holding a blue arm, and slammed them on the track, making an echoing boom. He then turned around and sped away, leaving the camera view.

Liz whistled

"Now let's see it a bit slower." André said, pointing the remote at the screen yet again.

This time, the blue mech inched towards the orange one, and they all saw Vardeman charge forward, grab the other mech by the shoulders, and head butt it in the chest, ripping off both arms.

André paused again as the blue mech slammed into the track. He turned to face his pilots. "That's it, ladies and gentleman. If there's one thing you should remember about him, he fights like a beast. No holds barred, no limits, just straight instinct and aggression." He straightened up. "That's not to say that he just goes crazy. He knows when to let go, and when to stay in control. Supposedly, he's pretty normal off the track."

Takeshi nodded at this. "I've heard that. A couple months ago, he caused an opposing mech to fall off the track, and Vardeman never left the pilot's side in the hospital. He felt bad for hurting him, I guess."

André smiled, a bit coldly. "You read my mind, Takeshi." He sat down in a chair at the back of the room. "Let's watch that little incident."

This time, Vardeman faced off against two other mechs, both sleek and yellow. "This is Firestorm's race against Team Meridian. That's their forward and midfielder."

This time, the two mechs separated, and tried to sneak past Vardeman on opposite sides of the track. It did them no good.

Vardeman's orange mech leaped to one side, throwing its shoulder into his opponent. Before it could hit the ground, Vardeman grabbed it by the ankles, swung around, and threw the mech across the track at its teammate. They collided, hurling the second mech off the side of the track.

André rewinded, and stopped when Vardeman was picking up Meridian's mech. He turned back to Takeshi.

"Takeshi, you especially should pay attention to this. Vardeman eats lighter mechs for breakfast. His own isn't nearly as heavy as most defenders, but he knows how to throw his weight around." He tapped the screen, indicating the airborne mech. "This mech weighed just under six tons, and he threw it hard enough to knock another of the same size off its feet and off the track. Don't get caught, whatever you do. Someone will get hurt, and its not going to be him."

Liz, who was by now getting frustrated, grumbled. "All we've seen is this guy beat up on forwards and midfielders. There's no way he'd stop a heavy hitter like me."

André sighed, as if dealing with a naive child, which, relatively, he was. "Liz, you're absolutely right. How could I have forgotten?" He pressed his remote.

A slideshow went past Liz's eyes. Dozens of broken, battered mechs, all defenders. Many were missing limbs, and all were dented and hammered into submission.

Liz whistled again.

"Because of his mech's long arms and legs, no one can get close enough to land a hit. He just staves them off and beats them from a distance. You saw how far and fast he can move. Just imagine blocking and countering that kind of speed. Defenders just aren't fast enough for it."

Takeshi whistled this time, and Liz frowned again.

André continued. "However, as I said, Firestorm has lost. Given, it was Black Egg, but that doesn't change the fact that they have weaknesses. Black Egg's defense kept Vardeman off of them long enough to get ahead. Of course, one of their mechs was still taken out of the race."

It was Amy's turn to look confused. "How did that happen, André?"

"The rest of the team isn't too shabby, either. In fact, Firestorm's forward is also Vardeman's brother." He pressed a button, and a picture, similar to the first Vardeman's, popped up. This man looked a bit more gaunt, with dirty blond, close-cropped hair and a long face. He wasn't smiling. "This is Jeremy's brother, Blaine. He's more of a speed freak, if you know what I mean. He doesn't engage other mechs most of the time, and when he does, he only gives himself some space to take off. But Takeshi,"

"Yeah?"

"Don't let him get away. His mech is made for speed. It can't take as much of a beating, but it's got a good hundred KPH on you for top speed."

Amy spoke once more. "What about their midfielder? How are they?"

Once again, André used his remote to call up another video. He pointed to the stubby, missile-like mech in the foreground. "This is Blaine." He pointed to a shadow in the background. "This is Black Egg's midfielder, trying to pass." He pressed play, and Blaine sped down the track, not seeming to notice his opponent. When the ominous black mech came within striking distance, Blaine leaned to one side, then brought his mech around in a cartwheel. The Black Egg mech backed off.

Blaine began to accelerate, but the black mech went at him again. This time, Blaine did a low spinning kick, forcing his opponent to jump into the air.

Then, out of nowhere, a third mech came on screen. It was painted in Firestorm's orange and white, and had sharp, bladed forearms. It sped up while the Black Egg mech was still airborne, coming right up behind it. It brought its arm back.

And speared the Black Egg mech straight through the stomach.

The Firestorm midfielder lowered its outstretched arm, shaking the now-twitching black mech off. It bounced back down the track, not moving.

André paused again. "That was Laura Milan, their midfielder. Vardeman may be their star, but the rest of the team is topnotch as well. They aren't spectacular by themselves, but they're a good mix. But Amy, you've got it lucky. Milan doesn't do much. She's very team-oriented, kind of shy, actually, and only assists others, like this." He nodded towards the screen. "Don't expect her to face off against you without backup. Which is only going to come from Vardeman. Jeremy, that is. Blaine is very independent, very proud. A bit of an ego problem, if you ask me." He rewinded and played the video again. "That move wasn't planned. Milan saw an opportunity, and took it. Jeremy was probably the only one to congratulate her about it."

Amy nodded. "That should leave me open to help out Liz."

Liz sat up, and glared at Amy. "What do you mean, help? I won't need help. I'll wipe the floor with him."

"That mentality is going to get you hurt, Liz." André said with a sigh. "The only way you can get him is to throw something unexpected at him, something he won't have time to counter. Which would require someone else, preferably Luca, with his enhanced reflexes. No offense, of course, Amy."

Amy smiled, not in the least bit insulted. "None taken. Luca would be much better at that kind of thing."

André stood up again, his head down in thought. He looked up, and regarded his team with what seemed like admiration. "Okay, guys. You're as ready as you can be for this race. You can take the rest of the day off. But remember, you were once rookies too. These guys have yet to prove themselves in the pro league, and they won't let anything get in the way of their dreams. Don't forget that."