Chapter 1.6: The Fastest Play

Day 1, 8:49 AM

"Gotcha, Ophelia!"

Al catches Lia before she falls. Meanwhile The Director doesn't notice his fiancé's almost broken her neck, staring ahead blankly and looking like a ghost in the low light.

Lia's eyes glow and she clenches her fingers toward the oblivious announcer. "Da-a-a-laaass," she hisses through bared teeth.

"Let's ah, gather 'round, please!" Al says, clapping his mismatched hands together. "First off, does everyone have their ID on them? Yes? Good! Now, interwoven into the fabric of your uniforms are little special fibers that make them have harmonic resonance with the stage's field of energy!"

"Cool, harmonic resonance!" Skidd cheers, pumping his fist in the air. "...uh...so, can I have a quick refresher on that, Al, dude? You know, for the people that don't know about it and all..."

"Basically, it'll make things happen around you whether you want them to or not. On further notice, if there's ever an issue or something doesn't seem right, which," Al scoffs, rolling his eyes. "I mean c'mon, now, it'll probably not happen here. In the less than negative ten point seven chance that something does go wrong, you all know you can call me. I am the lead stage technician...um, in theory."

He slips up behind the Director. "GUZ-MAAAAN!" Al sings, making him jump and look around wildly. "Ah heh heh, it's your call now. I can't proceed legally and with good a conscious until YOU say so!"

Guzman looks completely puzzled. "Well of course you could," he says.

Noinah saunters up, slapping him in the back and making him stagger. "C'mon now, doc. Wake up. Now it's time to grab your balls and gird 'em up nice and tight."

Lia sighs. "Noinah..."

"The saying is gird up your loins." Clank corrects.

Noinah grunts. "Same shit, different flavor."

"Don't you mean smell?" I wonder.

"Nah, I'm into some weird stuff. Are you?"

"Ehh..."

"Yeah, you are. Got any new recommendations for me, Sugar?"

"Ahh, you'd be better off talking to my girlfriend about that," I chuckle. "I will say she's more interested in my top end."

"Damn, now I've gotta guess?"

"Guys!" Lia exclaims.

Buz cuts in. "And gals."

"Gal," Teddy says to her. "You're the only one in our block." Noinah glares at him.

"Is two," says Wun.

"Tree, actually. I mean three," Too says quickly, then yells, "No, two! Two! I mean two!"

"You okay, dude? Why're you saying your name over and over again?" Skidd wonders.

"GUYS! GALS...EVERYone..." Lia shouts, dropping her hands in exasperation. "Can we...can we just get on with it? Like, today? Now?"

Qwark huffs, looking around suspiciously. "Yeah, look at all of you stalling! I'd say it's in conspiracy against me!"

"How do you figure?" the entire, and yes I mean the entire room, responds.

"Nothing's getting done by us standing around! Let's do it to it!" He turns to a random wall. Skrunch already knows what's coming because he screeches at Qwark to stop.

The big guy charges, knocking in a previously concealed panel. All of us competitors peer out from around him. Now we're looking into a long, dark corridor backlit with a soft yellow light.

"Wow!" says Al, impressed. "How'd you know where the entrance hall was, Qwark?"

Wade chortles. "I certainly didn't tell him."

Lia claws at her wide, twitching eyes. I feel like she's aged fifty years within the last thirty seconds or so. "Copernicus...you...are such a..."

"Dork?"

"Blockhead?"

"Huge hunk'a lunk?"

Too, myself, and Noinah offer our guesses. Lia just lowers her head into her hands.

"Stop blathering and follow me! I'm ready for my photo op on stage!" Qwark exclaims. Wade takes his place by the entrance and extends an arm. "Right this way, everyone. And...I'll have this wall fixed right away, Mr. Vox, sir."

"Me first!" Dallas exclaims, shoving past Qwark. "I'm the one with the great hair."

"No, ME first! And I don't need fake hair to make myself look good!" Qwark retorts, almost turning Dallas into a smoking hole in the wall.

"This isn't fake! Just because I wear wigs made from my mother's hair doesn't mean it's not authentic."

They start bickering with each other. The rest of the block begins to shuffle after them, excitement joining the emotions brewing in the air. Guzman is the only one who hardly budges. I let myself drift towards the back of the group.

"Manny?" Lia asks.

"I'm…fine. Just give me a moment, please," he says.

"O...Okay," she says, watching him carefully. "Don't take too long, alright?"

She exits. Wade spares me a knowing smile before following her.

"What is it?" I ask Guzman.

"I've got to stand on stage and give a short introduction. As-as an official start to the events."

He's jittering and fidgeting with his hands, unable to stop shifting. His smile is weighed with anxiousness. It might be because I'm hung over but I've got little patience for his squirming now. "O-kaaaaay. I can see you're pretty nervous about it," I say.

"Very, quite. Oh but I knew this was coming, for a long awhile. It's not anything long or dramatic, it's just that...I...last night, well..."

"Oh...right. I'm really sorry about that. I should've paid more attention."

"Don't be, it...well, we both were not...thinking right."

"So, you've got an idea of what you're going to say, right?"

"I do. Well it's, all of it's sort of unorganized, I'm so flustered right now..."

"Okay. Just calm down and breathe. It's good you at least have an idea. And you're already good at speaking in front of an audience, I've heard you. Just go out there and do it and it'll be over before you know it."

He doesn't answer, now staring distantly at a spot over my left ear.

"Guzman," I bark, and he jumps. "Come on, don't zone out on me. I know you can do this. Remember what we were talking about last night? How you got to this point and why you did? If all else fails, just project what you said to me before out to the crowd. You'll do fine because you'll mean what you say. Yeah?"

He tugs at his collar, giggling slightly. "Right, right, that's a good foundation..."

"And as for the crowd...it is well out of normal proportions, so I don't fault you for dreading going out in front of all that..."

"It won't bother me in this scenario."

"Really? How's that?"

"All lights will be on us. The audience will be dark," he stresses. "I do much better when I'm unable to make out individual faces. I see...audiences like that as a single entity, in a sense. They don't intimidate me as much. I'm not sure how to explain it...it's a little strange."

"Nope, I gotcha. That's interesting."

"Ohhh, but I could never actively perform in front of any audience," he says, prodding a finger towards me. "You've been in front of big crowds, haven't you, Ratchet? Ah...well clearly you have, but, how can you...do things and keep focus, or..."

"I just can. It's how I've always been. Then there's the energy I draw from the audience. That gets me going even more!" I say. "I love it."

"Don't you ever think about messing up?"

"Nah! As far as I consider, it'll happen anyway," I crack.

"Goodness me," Guzman mutters, standing straighter. "And I don't mean to burden you with this. I've...needed to talk about it, just to vent a little, I suppose...oh, it's just this awful headache that's thrown off my entire balance. All those bright lights won't make it easier. I feel even more for you, though. You'll be the one spending the morning underneath them."

"Eh...yeah. I've been trying not to focus too much the coming discomfort."

"Maybe that's it. Or, it'll work for now at least. If I don't focus on my own discomfort or my mistakes, they won't happen! Of course! It's brilliant! It's-it's the closest thing to mental comfort I can possess now!" Guzman says, beginning to laugh. It transitions smoothly into him sobbing and he hangs his head.

"Okay, okay okay," I say hastily. "Alright. If you can do that, do it. Whatever will work for you in the meanwhile. Just...narrow your focus, uhhhh, shut off your emotions and do it. That's my advice. Sometimes we gotta do stuff like that in life, y'know."

One of his eyes blinks slower than the other. "Uh huh."

I glare at him. "Okay you know what? If you don't get your act together this instant, I'm going to stomp your spine until it shatters in fifty different places. Deal?"

He leans back, looking down at me in amazement.

"You said it, you KNEW this was coming! What, you want me to go out there and give the speech in your place? Huh?" I stalk closer to him. "You know what, Noinah had the right idea. I'll kick you in the nuts and maybe that'll get your ass in gear. Right? Will it? Answer me!"

As predicted, my sudden aggression takes him off guard and he retreats, though not fast enough to outpace me. "I-I, Ratchet, no please don't...!"

"You're the Director. This is ALL your responsibility, and your doing. You've GOT to learn to dig deep for strength when things do get tough for you. You want to let down the people who're relying on you?"

"No...that's clearly not what I want, I just..."

"You're nervous," I stated. "You're not alone. Everyone who was just in this room was. No one's going to put you down for feeling that way. If they do, forget them."

Guzman stops suddenly, raising his eyebrows. "Is that really so? Even you...you're nervous, too?"

I stop, blinking at him slowly. "I'm in the room, aren't I?"

"Yes, but you said everyone who was just in here, not everyone who is currently in here."

I shove him into the wall. He slips and falls to the ground. He looks guilty, still off guard but not fearful. That's a very good sign, actually.

"It's elementary that people tend to learn from pain," I say, cracking my knuckles. "So here's what I'll do...and I'll do this every time I have to, from this point on..."

"I'm quite thankful for any help Ratchet, but...why're...what're you about to do...?"

I shake my hands, flexing them as I advance on him further. Initially he doesn't react out of shock.

"...no, wait! I-I understand completely now, I've got it!" Guzman panics, pressing himself up against the wall. "Heh heh, I...oh, feel quite motivated and please don't hit me, please...!"

I seize the front of his dress shirt, yanking him forward. He doesn't even try to push me away and only cowers behind his hands.

"Are you kidding me?!" I shout. "I'm about to maul you and you're STILL not fighting back?"

"I could never!" he cries. "I, I get what you're saying, I'm telling the truth, promise! You're right, you're right, you're right...!"

"Alright then, just let me knock more sense into you, you can never have too much, right?"

The trick is to hit him hard enough but not leave any noticeable marks. A bit of a challenge, not one I couldn't beat.

Speaking of beat, time to get to work. I pull my fist back. Guzman is frozen and wide-eyed, like his mind hasn't fully caught up to what's happening. When I swing hard towards his face his only reaction is to flinch back slightly. If I'd been serious and if my fist hadn't stopped an inch from his face, he would've at least gotten a shattered nose.

He holds still for a few more moments, trying to work words forth.

"I...i-i-it's amazing at how you and Ophelia have similar ways of showing...tenderness," Guzman says carefully. "Almost, I would say...maybe you should have hit me, just to make a distinction..."

"Oh, that's curious to know."

"The shock of it coming from another person is different," he says quickly. "It-It-It breeds the same feelings...oh, but you know, Ratchet...the difference is, you're not quite fed up with me yet. Ophelia...she's been rather softer towards me lately. In general. Now I believe she's afraid of putting too much pressure on me. But she's good at this, too, this sort of tough love. She gets heated, and she gets scary...but I know she means well. Am I right in thinking the same way of you?"

I let go, pushing him hard for a good measure. His smile doesn't tremble as he catches himself on the wall. He politely refuses my hand and stands on his own. At least it doesn't appear he's about to topple at the slightest of pokes.

"Hm...that'll do," I say. "I don't think I see all of the apprehension gone."

"Well of course not," he says with a laugh. "It's surely...less of a bother now, though...I believe I still want you to hit me as hard as you can, Ratchet. You were right about never having too much sense..."

"Where would you want me to land a hit? If it's to where my eyes are, it'd be a little above the belt. Is it your idea to be limping up on the stage?"

"Careful, now...if you were to do that, you'd be liable to take my place for..."

Guzman falls silent, now looking over my head in growing terror. I whirl around, expecting trouble. Somehow neither of us had noticed Ravenda is still in here, lurking in that dark little corner of his. He twitches slightly.

Then I blink and he's practically gone, vanishing into the entrance hall. I had just barely perceived his motion.

"Ratchet, did you see..."

"Yeah. Hardly. He's gone now," I add, since Guzman is still peering into the dark.

"Oh, he scared the...why in Solana's galaxy was he still in here?"

"Maybe he wanted a show. I dunno," I say, shrugging, and Guzman turns even more flustered. "Pun intended, the dude's hard to follow. But...there's only one way forward, no?"

Guzman frets softly with his hands, looking towards the entrance hall.

"Let's...let's go," I say after a moment. "Come on. No more dawdling."

The hall echoes with the clacking of our footsteps. I'm tired, but not exhausted. Not fully energized, but just enough. It's a familiar feeling.

"Have anything to say?" I ask. I'm a little ahead of him but I've felt his eyes on the back of my head for a while.

"You meant it when you said you were nervous?"

"Everything I said, I meant. In truth, you didn't see me while we were in the waiting room. Pacing and stuff."

"Oh, really?"

"Uh huh...it's all good now, since we're about to get started," I say, then stop short and face him. "Guzman...don't ever think you're alone in how you feel, alright? It must be difficult being at the top of a business...it doesn't make you weak if you express your emotions."

"Okay," he says.

"Alright? I said this last night, but to reiterate...if you've got trouble with something, anything, and you're not sure...just come talk to me. I won't give you hell for it. Well, unless it's something worth giving hell over—you know where that line could stand...right?" I add, as he stops.

There's a very awkward few seconds of silence that passes. His expression is suddenly mask-like. He looks too calm now, like...like he was trying not to betray something from within.

An ugly discomfort writhes through my stomach. "Riiight?" I press. "You can trust me on that."

"Yes," Guzman says, giving a refreshed sort of nod. "I will. Thank you, Ratchet."

He takes the lead suddenly, moving forth with long, sweeping strides. I feel stuck for a few awful moments.

No, he couldn't still be keeping something from me. Not after all of our discussions. He was just still a bit nervous. We were good. It's all good.

Before us now are seven pedestals arranged in a half circle atop a raised platform. They're alit with the primary color of the team they represent.

Qwark and Skrunch stand on the pedestal that glows a piercing white. Qwark has his arms folded, impatiently tapping a foot to the ground. Skrunch is leaning up against him, legs crossed, with an open tome on astrophysics in his hands.

Next in the row to their left, the single-man team in red, is Skidd. He's holding his phone up to his face, grinning and flashing smiles as he takes pre-match photos of himself.

"Ahhh...purple and orange sort of clash, don't they?"

Too mutters the question to his brother, who's shaking his head as they check each other's gear.

"No, skin tone is just fine with outfit," Wun says. "Be proud."

Noinah and Buz are next. The shade of yellow they wear makes me crave buttered toast. Buz darts about, prodding Noinah along her head and shoulders. "Noinah, wake up!"

"Girl, QUIT!" Noinah snaps.

"Two of your eyes were closed just then, I saw them!"

"No they weren't!"

"Yeah they were," I say in tandem with Buz. The latter yells, "Hey everyone, look! Noinah's falling asleep!"

"Need an early morning nap, gramma?" Crootch calls.

"Oh, eat shit," Noinah growls, and he laughs. I'm snickering myself as I join Clank, standing on the podium illuminated in light that matches the wintergreen on our uniforms.

"You took a minute with Guzman," Clank tells me. "Well, about six minutes and nine seconds to be approximate."

"Oh, yeah, sure," I say, hitting his shoulder. "Why, jealous?"

"Perhaps a little bit. It was getting a bit stale being on this platform by myself."

"UH, can you two stop making out and help me?" Teddy cries. He's on the sixth team, represented by the color cyan. Somehow he's gotten his legs locked behind his head while stretching and can't dislodge them.

Oh, no wonder he's calling for us, since Crootch is now obliviously and enthusiastically digging into his ear, no doubt mining for the most obscure secrets of reality.

"No, not you, I want the robot," Teddy says angrily when I step forward. "You should've pissed off with the rest of your insufferable kind."

"Ha ha! Ah, so that's why you've been sending me looks this whole time," I ask, slapping Clank in the back to scoot him forward. "So is it just generalized racism on your part, or something a little more personal?"

He bares his teeth. "I ended up losing my warehouse job several years ago because of all the damage you did to the infrastructure in Kerchu City, jackass."

"Hah?"

"When we were looking for the Secret," Clank answers, threading his fingers and cracking them. "Though, it was not just us, the Space Pirates did plenty of destruction on their own."

"Oh yeah!" I say, recalling. "Sorry, I've still got a fog in my head. Hate to hear that, man."

"You really don't sound like it," Teddy says. "It's bullshit. And now I've got to be stuck in this death pit that'll take fifty years off my life, just for the negative chance of us getting rich quick..."

Clank walks forward, whipping his magic fingers back and forth in a whirlwind. Teddy is soon spinning, ending up on his back and with his limbs limp but free.

"Thanks domehead…and no thanks to you," Teddy snaps to his partner, who just at that moment happens to look over. "It's all hitting me hard now, why am I here? How the hell did I let you convince me to be your partner in this death trap...?"

"For one, I waited until you were drunk to ask you. And unless you want to go back soliciting alternative entertainment," Crootch laughs, jerking his head over. "it'd be best if you shut up and get ready, like darky over there."

Ravenda shows no acknowledgement of anything or anyone. He's standing quietly in a glowing ring of lavender with his head aloft, eyes closed. I've never felt a greater sense of reserved focus from anyone else.

"Got your mic there, alright..." Lia says quietly.

She has her hands on Guzman, patting him down hastily and gesturing to stand on his designated spot down in front. After one last supportive pat to his shoulder she goes and hops on her commentator's platform. Dallas in on the one next to her. "Dallas, be careful not to fall off your platform again, just use the side rails if…...Dallas?"

He doesn't hear her, ogling at his reflection in a mirror.

"DAL-LAAAS!"

"OH, right, fall off the platform—I won't do!" Dallas says hurriedly, flashing a finger gun towards her. "Way ahead of you, Louie. I cried for five minutes straight the last time, it's not happening again!"

"Right. That's very good." Lia answers, as the veins in her neck throb terribly. "Then we're READY. Everyone, have fun! I insist."

Her eyes are a furious, burning red, and her tone is void of any benevolence. Then as if nothing is amiss she turns and smiles at Guzman kindly. "Go ahead, Manny."

"Uhhh...!" The Director quickly looks to Al, who's standing at the entrance hall next to Wade. "We're ready. Let's hurry, hurry, hurry…!"

"Finally! I thought you'd never—"

Al's pants fall down to his ankles. Wade looks off awkwardly, reaching down and pulling them back up for him.

"...say it! Um, pardon me," Al says sheepishly, pressing a metallic finger to his ID. He's like Dr. Quasar, with his cybernetics linked to the Dome's geometry. The ceiling above us is sectioned off, peeling back in a clockwise motion and revealing we're at the bottom of a shaft.

A heavy net of sound and vibration falls onto us. It's got to be the distant roar and din from the mouths of countless, restless people. We're so rattled that Dallas and Lia almost go unnoticed as their platforms rise in the air and over our heads.

Al holds a hand to his ear, frowning a second before winking up at them both. "You're all on," he says almost indistinctly, looking between the commentators and the Director. He and Wade step back. "Good luck!"

Lia and Dallas shoot upwards, leaving us behind.

"Ladies and gentlemen—"

When Lia speaks, her voices reverberates down to us from the stadium. We all buckle down, feeling the stage quiver.

"—here's what you're waiting for!" Dallas adds, "The filling to your donut! The key to your lock! The answer to your existential questions!"

"People, creatures, ne-er do wells of all ages! This is the beginning of the first events at the Big DEE!"

The stage rockets upward, making some of us stagger and cling onto our partners for stability. The end of the vertical tunnel terminates in a bright circle of light, and the noise from the stadium climaxes.

The intensity bombarding our senses draws away our breath. Once we get used to the sudden change in lighting and sound, most of us gaze around in weary shock. We've been transported to the middle of a shining field of white. The audience roars and screams from all sides.

It is way too loud. The light tears at my eyes and I have to close them until the stimuli plateaus. From the general silence and tension I feel, the other competitors are feeling just about the same. Well, not as much, since you know they didn't get hammered last night.

I crack my eyes open as the whispering starts. Everyone is looking around in wonder, blinking dazedly. Teddy is holding his hands to his ears with his face screwed up slightly. I'm trying hard to not to do the same thing.

Qwark is the only one who's hardly phased, and I'll admit I'm slightly envious of him. He's biting at his bottom lip, striking pose after pose as flashes of thousands of cameras go off. For that matter Skidd has recovered swiftly, already waving around with a wide grin.

"Hey, all you people! I'm Dallas Wannamaker!"

"And I'm Ophelia Tauron!"

They both hover down in the center airspace, each holding out an arm to the other. "And WE'RE—" they cry, hovering back.

"—not your fairy godparents..." Dallas says.

"...but even better!" Lia adds. "We're your hosts for the Big DEE games!"

"They're finally here, folks! These are the people that'll get the ball rolling! The starship sailing! The relationship cruising."

"The wonderful group you see here is the Sunrise block! They're the ones starting out of the gate, first thing in the morning, every day of the week! Congratulate them on being the first group to make history at the Big DEE games!"

Another wave of thundering screams come from the audience. Buz is rattled out of the air by the shockwaves. She flitters onto Noinah's shoulder, swearing.

The Director remains still a little ahead of us and currently the center focus on the cameras, which capture a face of tranquility. His arms are folded behind his back, but there's a slight tremble in his hands. I hope he's not in a state of shock or something like that. Some awful part of me expects him to drop dead on the stage at any moment.

"And now," Lia continues, hovering above us in the midst of the crowd and flashing lights. "Allow our lovely Director to officially start the many excitements and mysteries to come! None of this could be done without Guzman Vox, people!"

The Director steps forward, and the crowd quiets.

"Thank you, every single one of you," Guzman begins. "I very thankful and blessed for the amount of support that myself and my crew have received in the makings of this project. While this is the first of hopefully many events, there is something exceptionally special about its debut."

He pauses, straightening his tie.

"This is...I-I am..."

Guzman falters. He falls silent, staring out at the abyss of people. One second. Two. Three...he doesn't say anything.

His face is stuck. No fear, no worry. Just empty.

The crowd rouses, beginning to murmur.

"Oh no...!" Too gasps quietly. I skew my ears, giving Clank an uneasy look.

Noinah fidgets with her claws. "Oh, c-come on, now, doc. Don't you do this..." she utters.

"...I am...just speechless," Guzman finally continues, as though he'd never stopped. "Never did I imagine it would turn out like this, when I first started. I can only thank you all for the first, and hopefully not the last events at the Dome of Effective Entertainment...I believe that the rest shouldn't be said, but done...by all our fifty three champions!"

The crowd comes back to life. All of us on the stage tremble with nerves.

"Yes, thank you. Now, I'll make way for the real stars of the show!"

He bows, then vanishes in a flash. I look around and upwards, seeing him walk into view in the Director's Box, taking a seat next to Al. I'm not sure if he can see me but I hope he knows I'm proud of him.

The crowd is still riled up as Dallas zooms in, exclaiming, "That's my cue, folks! Are—you—READY?! Then let me introduce this lovely group of assorted aliens and mechanical midgets joining us here today!"

The cameras focus on Qwark and Skrunch.

"Here's the first team, rocking the old-fashioned black and white style! It's Skrunch and Cofveve Quart on Team Nanner!" Dallas yells.

Qwark's face drops like a nuke.

I blink slowly several times, looking around in amazement. Everyone is either in stitches or trying not to break down.

It's when I look at Qwark again I fall apart. He looks lost, eyes nearly unfocused and his mouth hanging open. Skrunch is going crazy next to him, bowing and clasping his hands together, shaking them over his head.

"Tuh-heh, T-Team Nanner consists of a strange pair, people!" Dallas continues. "Stranger than normal, I mean! We have an apparent galactic hero of some valuable importance, and his faithful partner Skrunch is a monkey with a doctorate! Ha ha, let's hope he takes the captain's shine!"

Qwark shuts his mouth, forcing a smile. His nostrils flare with each breath and one eye is twitching. He's been getting pissed off over and over again lately, and I'm becoming a bit concerned he'll snap and kill someone.

"Now for the next team!" Ophelia exclaims, holding a hand out. "Or, should I say, one of our two one-man armies!? We've got the famous Skidd McMarxx riding by himself on Team Double D! I'm shocked that got by the ratings. Ratings or not, he's in enemy territory! He's good at hoverboarding, so let's see how he tests his meddle with pure roughhousing…all without someone to share his pain with!"

"Yeah-heah! I can totally make it on my own, just watch me!" Skidd yells, pointing out into the audience. "Make sure to make it to my funeral if you can!"

"That is grim," Clank says.

"Eh...he didn't specify a time," Buz says. "Could be tomorrow or could be a hundred years in the future, you know?"

"Onto team three!" Dallas shouts. "We've got a pair of thuggish twins from the Bogon Galaxy joining us, it's Thing Wun and Thing Too! Man, I wonder where their parents got the inspiration of their names from?! The older of the pair is a retired monster hunter, and his brother is a professional puppy petter! Give Team Twinkle a round, folks!"

Teddy makes a face. "Twinkle?"

"Yeah, 'cause we're triplets! Well, uh, twins! Only us TWINS are here right now!" Too exclaims.

Wun flexes for the cameras, adding, "And we will shine like all stars in space, us both!"

"Next up is a team that hardly anyone's seen or heard from before, but maybe we wouldn't want to—it's Team Flatline."

Noinah growls, cracking her knuckles. And little Buz looks oddly, suddenly conniving…

"Apparently our old Tyhrranoid gal is a selective recluse after a long career of being a corrections officer! And her gal-pal may be the tiniest competitor here, but crossing her means you've crossed out on life!" Lia screams. "Let's hope their combination of eyes and wits doesn't turn this into a one-sided tournament!

Dallas tsks, hovering into view in the large spotlight above. "Oh, and look at who we have next, folks! Looks like our next team is taking a break from galaxy saving! Or rather, universe saving!"

"Involuntarily," I say. Clank gives a wistful nod.

"Weeee've got Ratchet and Clank riding the wind as Team Dark—erm, Team Cruise, but hopefully they're not cruising for a bruising, ha ha ha! I shouldn't have much to say, except to let their actions to speak for themselves…this battling bromance pair ain't packing poorly, folks!

"That's not to say we don't have others who are willing to take a stand as the underdogs!" Lia exclaims. "We've got Teddy and Crootch on Team Krash milling from the Polaris Galaxy, of course! Not much is known, except that they're both unemployed and Teddy has an infatuation with toilet seats!"

All of us, including Crootch, slowly turn to look at the tiny Kerchu. He shrinks back on himself with a nervous grin.

"And, we have a bonus," Dallas says. "For a new event that specifically focuses on using a partner to help your cause, we have one contestant that intentionally entered to stay by himself! He's from a galaxy so far away they didn't even bother giving it a name, but he is a renounced sportsman who travels all over, happening to find a gig here!"

Dallas holds a finger up. "The only member of Team Rex goes by the name Rover Ravenda, and if you don't know it, you're about to! Because this guy is all about the blink-and-you'll-miss-it action! He may have the luckiest number in the book, but, that's not gonna stop the composition from blazing on! Folks, now is when we begin the newest, grandest, most expertly crafted event, and hosted by Guzman Vox! Get strapped in, because it's going to be a magnificent, gravity defying, wild ride! Yeah, baby!"

Pop.

The stage vanishes out from underneath us. It doesn't sink down, it doesn't poof away in a cloud of dust, it just vanishes. We plummet, slowing to a hovering halt several inches above the ground. All over, walls and other obstacles jut out from the ground, emerging from the stadium in a wave of movement.

"What in the…" Clank wonders, as the teams are floated into a circle. Each of us gets a pair of…Hoverboots?

"So, let's kick it off with the first event, the nice and classic Keep-Away!" Lia exclaims, circling over our heads. "Each contestant has been provided with a nice clean pair of standard hoverskates for this event! They'll have to scrape and scrounge for the object of interest, the Solana Sphere! It's not a keepsake though, and to get more points, you've got to keep it in your grasp. The longer you do, the more you score! Don't be blinded by greed and forget your partner..."

"And well, if you don't have a partner. Good luck to you, I suppose, since it's by your own prerogative! Ah, the fine line between foolishness and confidence!" Dallas states, leaning on his podium. "Which one of you is going to be dancing in the dark?"

I'm barely paying attention to what they're saying, trying not to laugh at Clank's attempts to balance himself.

"Doing alright?" I ask lightly.

"These feel a little big."

"Just like your helmet?"

It's crooked again. Clank takes a moment to fix it, quickly putting his hands out when he comes close to falling. "I never was a fan of non-holographic shoes."

"Hmm…if they're holographic, doesn't that mean they're technically not real?"

I bite my lip eagerly, waiting for his response. He doesn't bite. Aww, that was no fun.

A hatch in the middle opens up, revealing the Solana Sphere. Its middle is a fiery orange, with yellow rolling off the edges. All of us focus raptly on it, all banter forgotten.

"Now, contestants!" Lia exclaims, "Everyone ready? Everyone set?"

"Then...START!" Dallas cries.

All contestants react at once, surging forward in a rush and closing in on the ball. Ravenda reaches it first.

Instead of grabbing it he leans back, then kicks it hard, sending it rocketing up into the air. It almost hits Dallas, who has to jerk his head back and fall against the railings of his platform.

Dallas hops back up quickly, exclaiming. "Ha HA! Ravenda takes the first contact! All of you who owe me money, you better not forget it!"

"Oh, I don't think so," Noinah snarls. For some reason she suddenly targets Crootch, shoving him hard and making him wreck into Wun. "Buz, get over here!"

"Stop having a coronary, I'm right next to you!"

In a flash, Noinah has her little partner in her hand. She spins, winds back and sends Buz airborne towards the Solana Sphere.

Then with a snicker she sticks her leg out. Qwark has his eyes upwards and fails to notice.

"Wait for the daring doo'oh-ry of CAPTAIN QWARK, people! Am I on camera? I'm on camera, right? 'Cause I'm about to make an alley—" he trips, toppling mightily. "—OOP!"

"Oh, come ON," I complain. He's falling right this way; I swear he's got some sort of magnetic attraction to me. Before I can get out of the danger zone Ravenda comes up and shoves me in the small of my back. I crash into Qwark, having a moment of panic before he takes us both to the ground.

Lia's cackle could raise the dead. "It's already getting rough and dirty, folks!"