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The Skies have no Limit

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BdrLineAzn:
--Narrator--

As Courage enters the Inn, he spots the rest of his friends at a table talking to each other. As he nears them, he notices something was off just by the tone of their voices. Courage takes the empty chair at the table and sits in it as the others faces to see who was at the table.

Charles
"Looks like you had a bad day, let me guess trying to flirt with a girl and her boyfriend comes up and went straight for your nose."

Rolling his eyes, he grabs a mug off the platter on their table that was infront of them before he arrived.

Courage
"Just so you know I had a good day today, until thirty minutes ago. And you are wrong on Rhodes points 1) I wasn't flirting, I accidentally fell on a lady and 2) it was her father. Which by the way is the owner of a weapons and equipment warehouse in the southern docks. Bdr you should check on that sometimes."

BdrLine
"Alright, but we have something bigger at the moment. Before you came I was telling Tommy and Charles here that someone may try and sabotage the race."

Eyes now wide, Courage place his mug on the table and leans in.

Courage
"Really? How do you know."

BdrLine
"Plasma told me, and the way he said it, he was skeptical too. Still we can't risk this and he told me to warn other racers we know."

Courage
"Well the person who hit me daughter is competing. I can warn her. But how about our ship?"

Tommy
"Well I secured our build site before I left. If there is a sabatouer, I want to check everything."

BdrLine
"Let's doing tomorrow, I had enough for one day."

The four then finishes their mugs and went up to retire for the evening. Upstairs in another room, Gareth has placed Lyre on the bed waiting for the doctor, now and then he would gave her a sip of water. Soon the doctor Plasma has sent for arrived and entered the room. Seeing his patient, he turns to Gareth and nods to him that she can be saved. Relaxing a bit, he sits back as the doctor looks at the current bandages on her and begins his work.

At the skooter races, Alex come back with his daughter and gunner and sees that most of his crew are back as well. As soon the break was over, the racers take their positions again and resumed the races.

--End Narration--

End of Day 5

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Start of Day 6

Third Day of Spring Festival

Narrator

The next day starts like the past two days of the Festival, a mass influx of people and tourist to enjoy in the merriment. But the day comes with mixed feelings from the different groups. One so is the paranoid feel of BdrLine and his men with the knowledge of a sabatouer in the race. For Gareth, he waits anxiously for the doctor to finish on Lyre. But for Alex it seems like another day, besides the fact of The incident with Courage, he and his men are, for now, unaware of the different happenings and continue their day.

End Narration

Gryphos:
--Wild Winds Inn--

An hour after the Doctor had finished his work, Lyre woke up and was assured that she would make a full recovery within a week.

Doctor
"Luckily, it was a clean entry and didn't severely damage any vital organs."

Lyre
"How long until I can leave this bed?"

Doctor
"I would recommend you stay rested for the full week but, if you insist, I would say you can move around again after a day or two."

Lyre was slightly deflated by the idea of staying cooped up in this room for even another hour, active by nature, the prospect was not attractive.

Gareth
"Thank you doctor."

The Doctor tipped his hat and strolled out, leaving a bottle of painkillers on the bedside table. After he left Gareth proceeded to tell Lyre what happened after she went out, putting extra clarification on the nature of Mockinjay's timely demise, before telling her of how he carried her back to the ship, flew with breakneck speed back to Cathedral, and carried her to the Inn. He then told her of Plasma's procedure and making a mental note to himself to give Plasma a formal gesture of gratitude, before then explaining what the doctor had told him of the extent of the injury.

Lyre
"Well, I'm guessing we're out of the race then."

Gareth
"Yeah, they've already started."

Lyre
"And where's Roc and Garuda?"

Gareth looked out of the window.

Gareth
"I imagine they're fascinated by the fast moving objects."

Lyre
"You know, you don't have to stay here with me."

Gareth
"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I do."

She chuckled, before switching to an unnerving and quite terrifying glare that lasted for around ten seconds.

Gareth
"I'll go."

And so he gave Lyre a kiss and strode out of the room, down the stairs and out the door to enjoy the festivities.

Plasmarobo:
--Wild Winds Inn--

Plasma descends the stares, eyes fixed on something not quite present, absently buttoning his coat.
The Inn, as it has been, is full of breakfasting patrons. He seems to break from his stupor and nods to the few familiar faces in the room.
Emily is once again behind the bar. He strides over to her.

Plasma
"I'm taking a day. I have no idea how you do this job. I'll be somewhere in the middle of the festival should you need me. I imagine if anyone can find me, it'll be you or Newt."

She gives him an almost worried look that instantly melts into indifference. Plasma turns away before allowing a brief bit of disappointment to play over his face. Then he is out the door, gently pressing through the flow of humanity filling the city streets. The races would be starting later, everyone would be making last minute adjustments. It was the last and only chance to figure out what the hell was going on.

--Rented Dock Space, Southern Air Docks--
Plasma crouches by the skylight of a large hangar. He can see the people within working on some kind of odd looking craft. He checks the back. Rocket Engines.
Finally, this is the fourth roof I've been on this morning...

He takes a radio out of his coat pocket.
Plasma
"Time for a 'surprise inspection' captain. Just keep them distracted for ten minutes."

As the guards enter the building, Plasma jimmies the latch on the light and drops onto a catwalk below. He runs along it and swings himself over the stairs, eventually reaching the floor. He rapidly unbolts one of the engines, an ancient model known for it's propensity to detonate randomly.

You wouldn't even need to modify this, it's already a deathtrap... I wonder...

He gouges out several samples of metal from within the engine, and quickly checks over the control mechanisms. He pauses, then plucks out the fundamental reaction controller: A small copper and bronze box wired into much of the device. Satisfied, he scales the catwalks back to the skylight as he hears the crew returning, complaining loudly about wasting time and legitimate practices.

--RF Secure Lab, somewhere under the city, a short while later--
Plasma sits in the center of a nest of wires, scope displays, antenni, and humming generators. A small space has been cleared in the mess of mechanisms, wire, and batteries on the desk in front of him. A brilliant green pair of monitors show identical sine waves. He sighs and stares at the controller.

The interior of the engines had tested negative for everything he could possibly think of. Or so the state chemists had told him. There was no reason to distrust them, at least, none he could find. This little technological wonder then, could be the only alteration. However it performed identically to the standard rocket controller he'd manage to swipe. He leans back in his chair, thrusting his hands into his pockets. They encounter something round and cold. He takes out the little sphere and presses the button.

The mechanical spider gazes balefully up at him from it's perch on his palm. Plasma gazes back, exasperated.

Plasma
"Well, what do you think?"

The spider clicks. Plasma places it on the desk, then rubs his eyes. The spider ticks it's way over to the pair of controllers. It tentatively pokes the altered one. Then grabs it and drags a foreleg across it, a brilliantly blue spark blazing away at the point of contact. Plasma follows it's process with fascination, watching as the little spider finishes, then inserts for of it's appendages and parts the little case down the cut, revealing the internals. It moves back, then waits expectantly as Plasma picks up the control circuit and stares at the unfamiliar internals.

I've never seen a circuit so small! These parts... they're tiny! But what's this?

The space normally taken up by the larger components is filled with a large magnetic relay, and what looks like a chemical timer. Triggered by a certain, very high temperature no doubt... the kind of temperature a rocket engine would reach after several minutes of burn. He grabs a soldering torch from a nearby shelf, applying it's flame directly to the timer. A few tense minutes later the wave on the second monitor suddenly jumps into an unfamiliar pattern.

This...it's designed to...target something? Any engine with one of these will...I need to find the target.

Plasma glances at the clock and jumps out of his chair. He snatches the spider and control circuit off the desk, and sprints to the elevator out of the lab. Yelling to the operator.

Plasma
"Surface! Quick as you can!"

--Cathedral Streets--
Plasma sprints down the road, taking a shortcut through an alley when he is brought up short by a tall, cloaked and hooded figure holding a rather large revolver directly in his path.

Plasma
"You-"

The gun fires once.

Piemanlives:
--Warehouse, South Docks, Secondary Workshop--

The race was in a few hours, everywhere the hustle and bustle of people was much more frantic then ever, however even he was feeling a bit apprehensive, he wasn't exactly sure why, but when he entered the inn everyone seemed a bit occupied. More to the point however is that they seemed worried about something, whatever it was it probably had to do with the races. "I wonder what is going on," the thought had crossed his mind several times over the hour but now wasn't the time focus in it. He looked over the 3 seater craft, it was stripped down and had several parts removed and replaced with lighter ones, the engine was snugly mounted inside of the crafts casing. Wings had been mounted integrated quite well into the hull. Richard was never an engineer but he can come up with some ideas that make more sense then they should. The Mobula was a perfect example of this and one was under construction in Firnfield and was to go under trials soon. With the final piece mounted they took a step back and looked over their craft, it was strangely elegant in a way, they managed to get some fairly large tanks for it too, Well that and an emergancy balloon kit was fitted just in case they needed to make a landing anywhere.

Alex
"Right,  the craft is ready, should we haul it out and do some tests in case it doesn't work?"

Richard
"I'd rather not die during the race, so I'm all for it."

Reagan
"That sounds like a good idea, I'm in."

Alex
"Alright then, Preston, Davidson! Help me load this thing in the ship, we're heading to the city limits."

--Warehouse, South Docks--

Lorena
"Almost......got it.......there."

They've been working on the thing since yesterday night, dad apparently guessed they were competing and decided to make it a crew venture, meaning they had 2 other members of the crew working with them. She looked to her right, Warren and Phillip were looking over the engine for any wear and tear that might effect it later, they hadn't found anything and the controller inside seemed to be functioning properly. She had finally fixed the fuel tanks in place, the engine was ready and they wings had been fitted earlier. Phillip was attaching the engine now, she decided she'd get something to drink for everybody.

Lorena
"I'm heading out for a moment, you guys want anything?"

Dalhia
"If you can get me a sandwich that would be wonderful"

Davidson
"Get me one as well, hold off on the mayonnaise."

Phillip
"I'll have what he's having, just as long as there is extra mustard."

Lorena
"Alright I'll be back in a bit."

She exited the warehouse then, heading towards the inn which happened to have some pretty good food. She was walking when she saw who she though was the owner confronted by a hooded man, who was holding a fairly sizable revolver.

Plasma
"You-"

Lorena
"No!"

Just as the man fired however a stream of crates and boxes fell in front of him, effectively making the shot moot. Seeing this he ran off into the accompanying alley way and sprinted off.

Gryphos:
--Outside Wild Winds Inn--

Roc was bored of fast moving objects and was on his way back to the place where he thought his master was. He was just above the Inn when he heard the sound. He had come to recognise the sound of gunshots and come to associate the sound of it to the act of violence and danger to his master.

With his sharp vision he peered down to see a man with a gun sprinting into the alley, he also knew the image of a gun and was able to put two and two together. The eagle swooped down into the alley and, with a swift movement, slashed at the man's back with his sharp claws. The man stopped for a second out of pain, only to look back and see an eagle fly past his face and slash at that, before swooping around and doing the same again. Roc then went for the legs, sinking his claws deep into the man's calves and shredding his trousers. Before long the man was on the floor with cuts to his back, face and legs, while his gun lay on the ground beside him. Roc picked up the gun and tossed it a few metres away, before sitting on a nearby skip and squawking loudly, trying to attract attention.

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