Sarah Frost.

Seraphina Lionstone Aretmidora Frost carelessly brushed her luxuriously flowing blonde locks, tied back in a loose-yet-stunningly-elegant bun, from her face as she activated the white Aero Gear. She let the thermal breezes of the Aeriel sweep both her and her white dragon Jalliste upwards, spiraling above the highest turrets of Sun City, using the Aero Gear to keep aloft, expertly controlling the flight. Though her mother was a racer on the Elite Class tracks and wanted Seraphina to follow in her footsteps--she had the talent, Seraphina was always told--the sky was the only place where the young woman truly felt free. Free, also, from the lecherous gaze of Word Paynn, who had even asked her mother for her hand in marriage...

LightningFlash.

Several levels below, on the Mid City race track, Anaclaretta Lazuli watched via her binocs as Seraphina Lionstone Aretmidora Frost sailed above. She brushed a lock of her puerly dark hair, which spoke of her inner turmoil better than words ever could, out of her deep, radiantly green, cat-like eyes and patted her Black Bone dragon, Malfunkshun.

"Moordryd said to eliminate her," she spoke quietly to her mount.

Although she had been a member of the Dragon Eye crew her entire life and was fiercly loyal to its leader, Moordryd Paynn, there were times when Anaclaretta's conscience pained her deeply.

"Oh, if only I hadn't been orphaned in the Great Track Accident of one-oh-nine, Malfunkshun. Then I'd still have my singing lessons and we'd be the best racing team on the track."

She turned her dragon back to the Dragon Eye Compound.

"C'mon, let's report to Moordryd." Her heart started racing at the thought of him, but she maintained a cold outer countenance as always.

Sarah Frost.

Moordryd Paynn paced the central hall of the Dragon Eye compound, waiting for--what was her name again? Clarissa? Clairanna? Anabeth? Something long and highfaluting, anyway--to finally return.

"The Dragon Booster stopped a bank robbery, halted a dragon stampede, and saved an old woman from falling a bridge. In the process he destroyed half of the bank's cash supplies, a cart of dragon eggs, and the old woman's shopping, but the news reports are calling him a hero," Cain said, speaking half to himself.

Moordryd turned. "Typical. Any of ours hurt?"

"Well, one of our crew members tripped the old woman off the bridge...but aside from that, no."

"He has been busy, hasn't he?" Moordryd kicked the wall. "What a pity Father doesn't want us to go after him today. With a few wraith dragons I bet we could beat him."

Cain shivered. "Don't bite off more than you can chew, Moordryd. I'd hate to see you hurt."

They broke off the conversation as they heard a door opening behind them.

LightningFlash.

Poor, neglected Anaclaretta, beautifully slim because there was never enough food for both her and Malfunkshun, stepped into the room.

She put on the tough facade she always wore around other people and began speaking.

"Seraphina Lionstone Aretmidora Frost has maintained her dragon exercise schedule every day this week. Her evening 'flight' is the best time to strike, because she always goes alone."

"Anything else?" Moordryd folded his arms and looked at her critically. She'd be pretty, he decided, if she weren't so rough looking.

"Only that I'm leaving." She turned to the door, hesitating a moment before moving into the hallway outside.

She leaned against the door, her sheeny dark locks framing her face as she slid down the door and sat crying on the floor.

Sarah Frost.

There was a vague wailing sound coming from the corridor outside, but neither Cain or Moordryd paid any attention to it.

"She's related to Olive Frost the racer, isn't she?" Cain said. "I bet five drakkals on her once."

"Yeah." Moordryd looked at himself in a conveniently-situated mirror. "My hair's much prettier than hers. But anyway. We strike tomorrow evening."

"Our mission: to rid the world of all other blondes, especially those with ugly hair?" Cain said with a carefully straight face.

"Yes. That, and my father has plans," Moordryd said. "Olive Frost is slated to win the next Elite Dueling competition, one-to-two odds, her fifth in a row, which means that she will gain a seat in the City Council and have the power to upset my father's schemes. Kill her daughter and we destroy her chances."

"In that case, who's going to win the race?" Cain said. "I've got ten drakkals to spare..."

Moordryd allowed himself a smile. "My father's wraith dragons will make sure that the candidates are thrown into a deadlock." He looked around, realising that the wailing noise was still going. "Do make sure the plumbing is fixed, Cain. I'm going to give Decepshun a few runs on the racetrack."

Natasha Karoline Maximov sat on her dragon blue dragon, Typhoon

She shook her head at Seraphina Lionstone Aretmidora Frost "Never" she shouted as Typhoon growled "My loyalaties lie with the Dragon Booster and thay will never be shifted"

Seraphina felt a sudden jerk, and struggled to keep Jalliste in the air. The Aero Gear seemed to be defective, rapidly running out of power, and it was all she could do to navigate past the Sun City towers that suddenly sprung out of the air around her, towers that would be deadly spears of impalement if she made one mistake.

She slammed the top of the gear with her fist, praying to any listening deities that it would hold out in time to see her safely back on the ground.

There was an odd clanking sound from the gear, and suddenly Seraphina's descent became much faster. She couldn't resist releasing a piercing scream of pure terror as she and Jalliste plummeted, any control she might have had over the descent shattered.

At that moment, she looked up to see a large shape above her, a black-and-gold dragon that she remembered from the news.

"Need help, miss?" she heard a masculine voice say, and saw an armoured figure leap from his dragon to her own, a spare Aero Gear clutched in his hand.

Seraphina let out a sigh of relief as they landed safely on a tower in Mid City.

The armoured figure shook his head. "You're lucky I was around," he said. "That's pretty dangerous." He trailed off, the slits in his mask clearly directed to taking in her flawless, perfectly-curved-yet-slender, form.

"I do it all the time," Seraphina retorted, hands on hips, the slight angry flush of her cheeks only serving to make her more attractive.

"Whatever," the armoured man said. "Well, must go. Wars to stop, people to save, you know how it is. Come on, Beau."

The two of them disappeared into the sky as Seraphina watched.

On the ground, she might have noticed the girl on the blue dragon looking up at the armoured hero, but the girl was only one among many, and Seraphina paid no attention to any words the girl on the blue dragon might have said.

Watching from the shadows, Anaclaretta saw Dragon Booster rescue Seraphina Lionstone Aretmidora Frost, clenching her delicate hands into fists as she recalled all the trouble he had caused Moordryd and the Dragon Eyes. Now he'd gone and runied her attempt to kill Seraphina Lionstone Aretmidora Frost by tampering with her gear.

Anaclaretta felt bad, but she was only doing it to protect Moordryd from his father. She could only guess how Word would react if he ever found out about Moordryd's plan.

She led Malfunkshun past a girl, perched on a blue dragon, who was yelling something at Seraphina Lionstone Aretmidora Frost, and turned towards the ractrack. She was to compete against Artha Penn, Kitt Wann, and several other big-time racers in half an hour, and knew she would easily win for her crew.

Besides, winning races was the only way she could provide both her and Malfunkshun with the pitiful amount of food they survived on. Sure, there were a lot of poor in Dragon City, but Anaclaretta as the poorest.

---

((Annnnnnnnnd the sap ozes faster than a cold nose.))

"Artha, you finally made it! Ready to get beaten?" Kitt Wann said.

"Sorry. Being the Dragon Booster's a tough job, you know." Artha puffed his chest out in pride.

"The race is starting in approximately twenty-four minutes." They heard Parm's voice through Artha's headpiece. "You will need to be at the starting blocks as soon as possible!"

"Yeah, we're getting there," Artha said, and turned Beau to start moving towards the tracks.

"Ready to get beaten again, stableboy?" Kitt said, leading Wyldfyr beside Artha.

"Not with your expert teaching," Artha smirked. "Mortis wants one of us to win this race, because the prize is some sort of ancient psi-gear. If Word Paynn got hold of it, he would have the power to control all dragons within a mile of him!"

"And you just told me this now..." Kitt grinned. "Hey, no pressure. I'll just do what I always do...win."

Wyldfyr took off, galloping towards the starting posts, while Beau followed at a more sedate speed.

Artha mounted Beau at the starting posts, ready to race. The rider next to him was a girl riding a rather skinny black dragon. He vaguely recognised her as one of the Dragon Eye crew members, but he noticed little of her other than the fact that her heavy mascara and face powder had started to run down her face, giving her the impression of a gothic, teary-eyed clown who would perhaps in another setting have been stunningly beautiful.

Anaclaretta subtley wiped the tears from her cheeks and turned hetr attention to the track. She needed to win this, they'd not eaten for almost a week, and Down City water was disgustingly filthy.

The starting posts released the dragons, and they took off down the track, Annaclaretta easily slipping into the first few places, along with Kitt Wann.

"Clar-- Claira-- Anabeth-- Girl!" Anaclaretta's vid screen popped up and Moordryd was yelling at her. "My father wants that gear, so either you win this race or you're out of the crew!"

His face disappeared, and Anaclaretta returned her attention to the track.

"It's ANACLARETTA!!!!!!" she screamed, tearing past every other racer and giving Malfunkshun all her remaining energy.

--

"Hey, Artha! Did you see that?" Kitt spoke into her com link.

"Yeah!" replied Artha. "That's a Dragon Eye member, and she's gonna win!"

"Not if I can help it!" Kitt cut connection. "C'mon, Wyldfyr!"

Though in the inital few seconds of her mad race Anaclaretta had not paid any attention to her surroundings, she quickly realised that she would have to race not only with her heart but with her head. She looked up, seeing that the track was about to narrow, and turned Malfunkshun into a leap, running along the edge of the walls of the track for seconds enough to escape the pile-up and emerge at the front of the racers.

Kitt, behind her, managed to jump over the collision, and urged Wyldfyr forward, desperately trying to catch up to the Crew member.

"Artha! Collision ahead!" Parm called. "Be careful!"

"I'll take the other track!" Artha said, and directed Beau into the other side of the fork, heading that group though still behind Anaclaretta and Kitt.

"I'm right behind you, Kitt!" he called, but she'd turned off the connection, and didn't appear to even notice him, so focused was she on beating the Crew-girl to the finish line.

"C'mon, Beau," Artha muttered, urging his dragon forward. "Dragon of legend, remember? You can do this."

Anaclaretta smiled to herself as Kitt drew closer. She had her own plans in mind.

Cain's face popped up on her vid screen. "Kitt Wann is just behind you!" he said. "Use the psi-gear when I say."

Anaclaretta inwardly rolled her eyes. She was an experienced enough racer not to need Cain's instructions, but she needed every advantage she could to win this race.

"Three...two...one...NOW!" Cain said, and at that very moment Anaclaretta released a psi-attack, and was rewarded with cries from both Kitt and Wyldfyr as they felt the stinging sensation pass through their minds.

Anaclaretta had felt that pain far too often to feel sympathetic, and smirked to herself as she rode forward to take a clear lead.

Artha tried to aim a long-distance mag-burst at Moordryd's henchgirl, but with her speed it failed to take effect. "Just a little closer, Beau..." he muttered.

"She is nearing the finish line!" Parm called. "Both you and Kitt may have a chance if you attack together with your long-range bursts."

"KITT? Turn on your comm!" Artha heard Parm continue, and finally--it took too long; the black rider was clearly going to win--Kitt's voice cracked on. "That hurt!" she complained.

"No time!" Parm said. "Longest-range mag bursts you can, in three! No...now!"

Anaclaretta felt the pain in every nerve ending she possessed, desperately clinging onto Malfunkshun's back to try to distract herself from the mag-burst. She could tell it was double-strength, and knew that most riders would have given up at the slightest hint of pain this excruciating, but the finish-line was scarcely six feet away, and she felt Malfunkshun's pain-stretched muscles straining under her fists as she collapsed onto the ground inches in front of the end posts, her dragon equally wounded.

Moordryd had BETTER remember my name now... was the last thought she had as she felt herself slipping into oblivion.

Aleena Lilli Gabreeal McGinks watched the race through her ultra high tech binoculars, a present from the mighty Word Paynn. She fitted her silvery black hemet over her shining midnight purple hair.

Dekadance, her black boned dragon shifted restlessly as he watched the other dragons below- obviously keen to run. She patted his neck reassuringly.

"Plenty of time yet my sweet."

She purred in a dark, purring voice. The dragon gave her an impatient look.

"All in time, we can't move too soon or our generous benefactor might become vexed."

Her comm link beeped and a green holoscreen popped into life.

"Are you in position?" Word Paynn asked. She nodded

"and ready sir."

"Good good- remember, don't move until my signal. I MUST win this race!"

"Yes sir."

"And remember, sucess is worth more then just my passing favour..."

"understood..."

The com link closed.

"Sleeze." She muttered, readying her class four stun weapon.



***
I feel violated >.<
***

“I thought Penn Racing were supposed to be the cleanest on the track!” spat Moordryd as he and Cain watched Penn and Wann hit their racer with a double mag burst. “We’ll never get the gear now!”

“Wait, she’s still going.” Cain pulled out his binocs and focused on the track.

"What?" Moordryd returned his attention to the track.

The girl and her dragon were pulling against the mag blasts, towards the finishline.

"Go on, go on!" Moordryd pressed against the balcony wall, throwing his hands up in the air as the Crew members passed the finish, colapsing just beyond.

"Yes! We got the gear!" Cain punched the air.

---

Anaclaretta struggled to sit up, spitting the taste of blood from her mouth.

"Nice one, Lazuli," said a voice. "You're in Paynn's good book."

She was back at the compound, some inner part she'd never been allowed in before.

"Where's Malfunkshun?" Despite everything that had happened to her, Anaclaretta's concern was for her dragon first.

"Resting in the stables, he'll be fine. A little underfed, but you can be sure Moordryd won't let that happen again. He knows a top class racing dragon when he sees one. And a top class racer."

Anaclaretta realised that it was Cain speaking as he stepped into her field of vision. She tried to stand up, but swayed uncertainly on her feet.

"Sit down." Cain rested a surprisingly gentle hand on her shoulder until she obeyed. "Moordryd's order was for you to be rested enough to race next week."

---

"Oh, no. No, no, no." Parm was pacing around Morti's Dragon Cave, tapping his fingers to his head. "This cannot be happening!"

"Pull it together, professor," Kitt remarked, a tad nervously.

"So, Mortis, you're telling me that we have no hope of winning once Word activates this gear?" Artha asked his mentor.

The four youth listened closely for his answer.

"Once Word has activated the gear, every dragon in the city will be forced to obey him. There will be city, then world, wide chaos as he forces them to do his bidding."

"Wait," interrupted Lance. "Every dragon? Even Beau?"

"Yes," said Mortis, gravely. "Even Beau."

"Moordryd, I'll come myself to get the gear," Word Paynn's voice boomed from the viewscreen. "Keep your compound secure, and do not let it out of your sight!"

"I've got it, Father," Moordryd said, holding it up. It looked more like an abstract sculpture than anything else, a twisted network of lines leading to a perfect sphere at the top. Moordryd idly twirled the sphere with his finger, and noticed that it spun flawlessly around.

"Don't touch it," his father warned. "Once you activate it, you will need immense strength of mind to control it...strength of mind which I do not think you possess. I will need strong psi-gear of my own in my fortress if even I expect to control it to its full potential."

"Okay, dangerous powerful magical artefact. Is anything you've told me to get not?" Moordryd sulkily fitted the ancient gear back into the pack he'd adopted.

"I don't recall you getting this one, Moordryd," Word said. "Who was that crew-member? I would have thought you would have pointed out any racer of such talent to me before."

"Ana-thingy," Moodryd said. "I...ah...thought it would be good to, you know, have a dark horse. A surprise."

"Indeed. An unusual name. Still, one racer is no matter," Word Paynn said. "Suspend any plans you may have involving the Frost woman and her spawn, by the way. Once I activate that gear, the winner of tomorrow's Elite Championships will be immaterial."

Moordryd rolled his eyes. "Yes, Father," he said. "Anything else?"

"Expect me soon," Word replied, and the face on the viewscreen disappeared.

Moordryd waited until he was sure his father was finished with him, and then yelled, "CAIN!"

It wasn't long before his lieutenant came rushing up. "Yes, I got the dragon fed like you ordered, and the girl should be fine..."

Moordryd waved him to silence. "That wasn't why I called you here."

"Well? What is it?"

"Chess?" Moordryd said. "We've got time to kill before my father arrives."

---

"Then let's go raid Moordryd's compound," Kitt said, slamming her fist into her palm. "We totally smashed his maximum security the last time, we can do it again!"

"As the famous general Tacitus said, to race into battle uninformed and unready is the act of a foolish man, or, verbatim, 'Don't pick a fight without knowing exactly where the bastards are'..." Parm began.

"But we haven't got time, Professor!" Kitt broke in. "Moordryd's already got his hands on the trophy!"

"I'm afraid I must agree," Mortis said. "This is a grim situation requiring immediate action."

Artha nodded, and reached to touch the amulet on his arm. "Release the Dragon!" he yelled.

Aleena put her stunner back in the holster, smiling slightly. Neat, clean and undetectable, that's what they hired her for. One well aimed fire at Wyldfire's leg had been all it needed to keep the Penn racer from using the mag blast slow down to overtake the Dragon Eye crewmemeber.

"Well done." Word Paynn said sardonically after she informed him. "Now i have another little job for you....


*

She walked up and down the top wall of Dragon Eye compund, watching everything around her carefully. She resented this assignment rather bitterly. she was NOT after all, a baby sitter, and if Word didn't trust his son, there were better ways of tackling that problem then sending out people to keep and eye on him.

Dekadance nudged her with his nose

"Out of it, impatient bully!" She shushed, fixing the Dragon Eye identification clip to her wristband.

He gave a great huff, and she passified him with a bag of crisps from her pack

"That was all you were after wasn't it...?" She sighed, patting his cheek. He gave her an affirming nudge.

She smiled, patted his neck firmly then nodded at a way down.

"c'mon, we have nanny work to do..."

They made their way down and into the stable area, where she made a bit of a show of tending her dragon. Presently she became aware of another girl in the area, tending her own dragon.

"Hm, today's racer... she doesn't look much from close up, does she?" She whispered to her dragon "I wonder how she mananged to race so well?"

Natasha Karoline Maximov shifted her position in her Saddle as her blue dragon, Typhoon, negotiated a corner on the training track and then sprinted along the straight towards the Finish pegs.

“Good work Typhoon” she praised him when they had past the pegs and Typhoon began to slow his pace back to a walk.

“Hopefully we’ll do well in the race tomorrow” she said to Typhoon, who nodded vigorously in agreement, nearly throwing her from her Saddle.

As she corrected her position “C’mon, we better get back to the Stables” she said to the dragon.

As Typhoon turned and started heading in the Stables direction, however, a shadow passed over them and she whipped her head up, fearing the worst. Natasha relaxed when she spotted a familiar white dragon soaring over head “Seraphina” she murmured.

“Change of plans boy” she said to Typhoon “Follow Jalliste.”

Anaclaretta patted Malfunkshun gently as she watched him feed. They were both still tired, but feeling better after a hearty meal.

She looked up as another young woman and her dragon entered the stable. Anaclaretta could feel the girl's eyes on her as she tended Malfunkshun, and eventually had to escape the cold gaze. She walked slowly and painfully out of the stables, pausing as she saw Word Paynn's private chariot pull up. He was here for her trophy, then.

---

Word noticed the girl watching him as he entered the compound. She was painfully thin, evidently half-starved. She would be an even mightier racer if she and her dragon were in good health. He'd have to speak to Moordryd, or maybe Cain, about that.

---

"Word has just arrived," Parm spoke into his comm link to Artha and Kitt, who were cautiously approaching the compound.

"Yeah, we saw them let him in," Artha replied. "I think the gates are passworded."

"Then we'll tackle a wall again." Kitt prepared Wyldfyr, who was limping slightly, for a mag burst. "C'mon hero boy, let's see if you've improved."

---

The Sues are breeding like rats! We'll be overun. :D

Olive Frost groomed her orange dragon Grunewald, inwardly visualising the race tomorrow. In Dragon City, those who were gifted racers could easily gain power, and if she won tomorrow, she would prove herself the greatest racer and duellist of her generation. Which was why Word Paynn had been pestering her and her daughter of late; were she to gain power after her victory tomorrow, she would be able to put a crimp in many of his schemes.

Not that, on the Elite Class tracks, it was anything like as difficult as the advertising suggested. Many of the Elite riders were from rich Families, their positions handed down to them by ancestors; unlike the crowded, competitive atmosphere of the Mid-City race tracks, Elite racing was far more stable and predictable. Olive liked to use the Mid-City races as a training ground, riding incognito; while she was good enough to have to restrain herself so she would not win and attract attention, occasionally she would admit to herself that certain racers would give her a run for her money if she had truly been competing. She had suggested to her daughter that she should do the same--Seraphina actually had talent, though she spent far too much time in the air--but her daughter paid her no attention, as she typically did, far too self-obsessed and wound up in her own melodramatic imaginings.

"Ready for tomorrow, Grunewald?" Olive said, letting her mind fill with the visualisation of the challenges ahead as she finished the grooming job. She swiped her keycard into the nearest dispenser. "I can't give you too much food today, it'll make you too lethargic tomorrow, but I promise that if we win you'll have all the dragon treats you want."

Olive knew it was to an extent a fantasy, but she would have sworn that Grunewald understood every word she said.

--

"You're cheating," Moordryd muttered.

"I would never do such a thing, not for the world," Cain replied suavely, and moved his rider forward three spaces.

"Yes, you would, if Dragon City were at stake. But then I'd say that was fair." Moordryd shoved his priest six spaces diagonally, threatening Cain's keybearer. "Check."

"Boys!"

Moordryd and Cain jumped up from their chess game, trying to look like they had been working on military strategy rather than playing.

"Re-enacting the Tempest, I presume?" Word Paynn said dryly. "I plan to build a brave new city. The gear, please, Moordryd."

--

Prompted by some unknown signal, Seraphina looked behind her and saw the blue dragon trailing her.

So, I have another stalker, she thought. Damn my cornsilk hair and crystalline eyes and slender waist and creamy skin and double-D-cup bosom!

Even so, she won't catch me, Seraphina thought, and activated a speed-three Aero gear, directing Jalliste in a complex maze around the city towers.

Below, Natasha rolled her green eyes So much for wishing her mother ‘Good Luck’ for tomorrow’s race she thought with a huff But I wouldn’t blame her for thinking I was another stalker after what happened yesterday.

She had been about to try and help Seraphina when the Dragon Booster had appeared.

Natasha knew first hand what the Dragon Eye crew could do, her brother Gabriel and his red dragon; Solaar Flare was a talented racer and had nearly been killed by Moordryd in an important race a few years back.

Still it wouldn’t hurt to offer her some help if ever she needs it smiling at that, Natasha pushed a strand of her black hair back beneath her blue helmet.

“You up for a challenge Typhoon?” she asked her dragon, who nodded his head “Then lets go”

"Excellent. Well done, my son," Word Paynn said, running his hands over the gear in his hand.

Cain looked at Moordryd, who though he was desperately trying to keep his expression controlled was clearly overjoyed at the sign of approval from his father.

"Try to continue to live up to my expectations, Moordryd," his father continued. "I am not an unreasonable man."

"Yes, Father," Moordryd said. The elation on his face had disappeared, Cain noticed. Moordryd had never been as good as hiding his feelings as he thought he was. "Is there anything else?"

"I must get this back to my citadel as soon as possible," his father said. "Have you seen any sign of the Dragon Booster?"

Cain, keeping an eye on the security camera vid-feed, shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "We haven't detected any intruders."

"Good." Word Paynn turned on his heels and swept out of the room.

Moordryd grinned, and ran over to slap Cain's palms with his own. "We did it!" he said. "Well, okay, Ana-thingy won the race and we just waited for a while, but this is the first time the Dragon Booster has not interfered in our schemes. Now it's up to Father whether or not he wins."

"You know anything?" Cain said.

Moordryd shrugged. "No, nothing in particular. But the Dragon Booster has been surprisingly quiet. I wouldn't be surprised if he attacked Father. And then he'll know what it's like!"

The last sentence was said surprisingly viciously, and Cain stared at his friend. "Are you all right?" he said.

"Never better." Moordryd walked back over to the chess game. "You'll move your keybearer to D-12, I think, to evade check."

--

Kitt and Artha were sneaking through the Dragon Eye compound, on foot, leaving their dragons to watch their backs.

"Word Paynn's just left the compound!" Parm's voice burst in on their comlinks.

"What?" Artha looked shocked. "But that leaves us with no time! He already has the gear!"

"He's taking a mag-lift. Get out of there. I'll mag you an Aero gear and the Dragon Booster can attack."

"Getting," Artha replied, running over to leap on Beau's back.

"Wyldfyr, get back to the stables," Kitt commanded her dragon, and she leaped up behind Artha.

"What are you doing?" he said.

"Coming with you, stableboy." She settled herself on the saddle behind Artha. "You'll need the backup."

Artha thought about it. He'd probably have to take on Word's bodyguards as well as Paynn himself, and Kitt was pretty good...

"Let's go," he said. "Release the Dragon!"

They mag-jumped over the wall of the Dragon Eye compound again, rushing for an open area where Parm could mag the aero-gear to them.

--

"Aero gear...aero gear...where is it?" Parm muttered, sorting through the pile in front of him.

"You're looking for the aero gear?" Lance said. A blush started to spread across his freckled cheeks.

Parm turned on him. "Where is it?"

"Well...uh...I kind of wanted to see if I could use it for Fracshun and..."

"The City depends on it, Lance!"

"Uh...wait!" Lance rushed off, and returned a few minutes later.

"Here it is, it's only a little scratched. It kind of fell off the bridge and landed in the sewage dumps and then a really big dragon stepped..."

Parm wasn't listening. "Mag Aero Gear to distance coordinates sixty-three west!" he commanded, and the gear was sent off in the distinctive yellowish mag-energy light.

---

"Artha, hurry!" they heard Parm's voice. "The mag-lift is nearly past Precinct!"

"We're hurrying!" Artha called, leaning over to activate the aero-gear. "What took you so long?"

"Long story," Lance's voice chimed in.

Beau started running, trying for a lift off the ground.

"C'mon, work..." Artha muttered.

"It's working!" Kitt called, and they felt the dragon begin to rise into the sky, carried aloft by the mag-energy from the gear.

---

Seraphina, dodging between the labyrinth of the rising spires of the city, was surprised to see the black-and-gold dragon above her, two figures mounted on it.

"They ascented pretty fast," she muttered to herself. "Let's see if we can't match that, Jalliste..."

She activated a second gear, turning her dragon upwards in pursuit of the black-and-gold dragon.

---

Gareth Chevalier was bored.

There wasn't much to do when you were the martial arts champion of the city and aged seventeen, after all, expert in both armed and unarmed combat and smart enough to have built a reputation for it. A reputation that got you well-paying jobs, such as bodyguard to Word Paynn, the richest man in the city.

He moodily flicked his dark indigo fringe from his face as he did his best to give his bright blue eyes a smouldering expression. Yes, sure, his last girlfriend said that she'd only attracted to the ablities and the salary and they weren't nearly enough to make up for his personality, but did that mean he had to give up on trying to impress women? Besides, the Dragon Eye racer he'd briefly glimpsed stabling her dragon had been rather attractive.

His partner-on-duty, an older woman with dyed-red hair tied back into a practical bun, smirked at him. "Unless you're trying to impress Lord Paynn, and I don't think your sexual orientation extends there, you can give up the smoldering glare through the rather impractical fringe."

Gareth folded his arms across his manly and muscular chest and flung her another glare, this time with the smoulder left out of it. She laughed. "Sweetie, it's not going to work," she said. "I have a teenage son, remember? Gives me that look all the time. Thinks that just because he's a decent mag-programmer he owns the world." She brought a wicked-looking dagger from the inside of her jacket pocket and started polishing it with a dirty-looking handkerchief. "Find something useful to do, lad."

Irritated, Gareth looked down from the mag-lift, watching the city-levels disappear beneath them. It was going unusually slowly, but that was probably because of Abandonn, who had to weigh at least the same as the mag-lift structure itself. There didn't seem to be many dragons around that he could see, and he idly looked around for any signs of flying riders. Usually Chute and her crew did some stunts this time of an evening...

((Yeah, I though the Sues were getting lonely, so I did a Stu...))

Natasha let out a growl as Seraphina and Jalliste disappeared around yet another bend, This is getting really frustrating she thought angrily.

But her thoughts soon disappeared as she rounded the bend and spotted the black-and-gold dragon.

“The Dragoon Booster” she exclaimed “Slow up Typhoon” she called to her dragon, who skidded to a halt.

“I wonder what Moordryd’s done this t…” Suddenly a thought occurred to her The race today, for the black psi gear, Penn and Wann tried to slow Anaclaretta Lazuli down.

She had to help, somehow

“Lets go Typhoon, not a moment to lose”

Anaclaretta sat quietly in the Crew quaters, watching the usual bustle that went on.

"Nice racing today," someone said.

"Like you'd know." She instantly switched to defensive as she realised she'd been letting her soft inner nature show.

"Whatever."

"You ride like skit, man."

"Do not!"

"You callin' me a liar?" Anaclaretta stood up and pressed her face into his. "I could cream your butt right here, right now."

After a moment's distraction of staring at her beautiful features, the dragon rider glared back.

"I'm willing."

"Good." Anaclaretta rolled up he sleeves. "'Cause you're not able."

Everyone else in the room had stopped what they were doing to watch. They'd all seen Anaclaretta fight before, and knew, even in her present state of exhaustion, that she would win easily.

"Wait, wait, wait." Cain walked into the room, stepping in between Anaclaretta and the rider, pushing him away.

"Moordryd wants to see you," he said to Anaclaretta, leading her out of the room.

---

Gareth straightened as Cain led the pretty, pale dragon racer past. He'd heard bits about the race earlier today, and was more than a little curious.

"Chevalier!"

Gareth's thoughts were interrupted by his partner.

"Something's up!"

---

*Embraces Stu*

Gareth stared in surprise at the black dragon looming overhead the mag-lift. The Dragon Booster. Which one of Word's borderline-legal activities had he come to interrupt this time?

"Move, kid!" his partner yelled, quickly assembling the mag-cannon. Gareth rushed to join her, and together they prepared to fire.

"Trajectory calculation thirty-five delta..." his partner muttered, carefully bringing the viewfinder to bear. "Now."

Gareth hit the button, and a beam of mag-energy scythed through the air, hitting the black-and-gold dragon dead-on. The recoil struck both Gareth and his partner, and they coughed at the heavy smoke that had belched out from the cannon.

There were two figures on the dragon, Gareth realised, his mind taking in all the details of the situation exactly as he had trained himself to as his body struggled to throw off the smoke fumes, and while the armoured one was falling back with it, the other, who happened to be a rather pretty girl, was leaping off it, onto the mag-lift, in an elegant martial arts jump that he recognised as the Twelfth King Serpent Leap, as his partner prepared to fight her...

--

Seraphina looked up in surprise as the black-and-gold dragon was hit with a mag-energy beam.

He helped me, though I shouldn't have needed it, she decided. Let's see what we can do here...

"Hey!" the armoured figure called to her, struggling to keep his dragon in the air. "Word Paynn's going to conquer the world and kill your mother if you don't get the black gear from him!"'

That sounds serious, Seraphina decided. I'd better see if I can help that poor girl up there...

--

"Stupid Aero gear!" Artha muttered, trying to get it to function again. "Hold on, Beau!"

He regretted having to ask the civilian for help, but he'd noticed her talents in dragon-riding when he'd rescued her earlier.

"Parm! The gear's not working!" he called into his comlink.

"Lance reports that the gear may have been damaged earlier," Parm said. "Are you sure it isn't working?"

Artha looked down, noticing that the ground seemed to be approaching at an uncomfortably fast rate.

"Yes, I'm sure!" he called. "Mag me another, will you?"

"I can't! We don't have any left!"

"Oh, skit..." Artha muttered.

"Word Paynn's going to conquer the world and kill your mother if you don't get the black gear from him!"' Natasha’s blood froze as she heard that, worse still the Dragon Booster was still falling

“C’mon, c’mon” she muttered to herself, where were the ‘wings’ she’d seen the black-and-gold dragon use to glide a couple of weeks ago.

Then with a blinding flash that caused Natasha to cover her eyes, they appeared and the black-and-gold dragon glided effortlessly to the ground, 10 meters in front of her.

“Hey” she called out, urging Typhoon on, pulling up when she’d reached him “You okay?”

(I’ll be gone for a few days, you gals a free to use Natasha and Typhoon to keep going)

"It's not me you have to worry about." The Dragon Booster glanced skywards, where the white dragon was swooping over the mag-lift, trying to terrorise the two guards. "You got a spare Aero gear?"

Natasha shook her head. "Sorry, and my own's only got one or two draags of energy left." She hadn't realised how low she'd allowed that to get while she'd been chasing after Jalliste.

The Dragon Booster flicked open his comm.

"Hey, Kitt! No pressure or anything, but the world is in your hands!"

--

"Yeah, thanks for that, stableboy..." Kitt mutttered. Both bodyguards looked very competent and very deadly, and she was trying to back away from them.

Above them, a white dragon flew over the mag-lift, narrowly missing the bodyguards, who were forced to dodge, leaving Kitt an opportunity for attack.

She couldn't think of any useful catchphrase to yell, so she simply kicked the guy in the head, and sent him flying off the magelift.

Gareth realised that particular kick was the twenty-seventh Purple Night Doom attack, but with the big white dragon flying far too close for comfort, he didn't have the chance to block it with the standard Fourth Pretty Butterfly.

"Release the wraith dragons!" Word Paynn commanded, not realising as he did so that he was clearly infringing the copyright of the Dragon Booster's catchphrase.

Two wraith dragons shimmered into view behind Kitt, and the remaining bodyguard let herself relax slightly.

--

Anaclaretta was walking through an outdoor path with Cain on her way to Moordryd's inner sanctum when she saw the young man fall out of the sky.

Forgetting for a moment that she had to hide her soft inner nature, she ran over to him.

"Cain! He's hurt!" she cried, emotion filling her lovely-if-slightly-emaciated features.

Cain shrugged. "He's not in our Crew. Leave him."

"But..." Anaclaretta bent over the man. He was about her age, he thought, and he had a broken leg. "He needs help!"

(ah Sarah? Typhoon and Natasha were on the ground while they were chasing Jalliste.. but Natasha's father Michael Maximov rides a white dragon, get him to mag some Aero gear)

((My mistake, I assumed that since Jalliste was in the air Typhoon would be. Don't worry, it's only a little plot inconsistency in a fic that's already got tons of Sues. But OCs pertaining to your OC are your business: if you want to write them, write them, but you don't have the right to dictate to the rest of us how the story is going to go unless you're actually contributing to it. First in, best dressed, and if you don't write about Michael Maximov then I probably won't, because he's not my OC and I have my own ideas anyway.))

Gareth gazed up into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. The were large in a pale face, and rimmed by long, lusterous black lashes.

A sharp pain brought him back to his senses, and he tried hard not to grip the wound.

"My leg . . . ."

"Is broken," the owner of the eyes informed him, and Gareth recognized her as the pretty racer he'd seen earlier. "My mother was a doctor, she taught me everything she knew."

"Oh." Thus assured, Gareth instantly relaxed. "I work for Paynn," he told Cain. "He won't appreciate your attitude."

"Fine." Cain helped him stand on his good foot, not nearly as gently as he'd handled Anaclaretta.

Gareth didn't even wince his strong yet delicately manly features at the searing pain, and even managed to smile down at the pretty racer as she supported his other side.

---

"Artha! Wraith dragons!" Parm yelled into his comm link. Something needed to be done.

"Lance! Quickly!" Parm magged all the gear he could onto Cyrano. "We're going to help.

---

Artha gasped as he saw the Wraith dragons appear behind Kitt. He was so concerned in fact, that he didn't even comment on Word's copyright infringement.

"Mag burst, Beau!"

---

Kitt turned as she sensed the Wraith Dragons behind her, barely noticing as the woman body guard moved to stand beside Word.

"Uh oh . . . ."

Seraphina too noticed the wraith dragons, and prepared to release her White rappel gear. In an incredible display of synchronity, just as Seraphina tangled the wraith dragons with the rappel gear Artha's long-range mag-blast hit them, leaving Kitt a clear path to Word Paynn as the wraiths struggled.

Jalliste landed neatly between the tied-up wraith dragons (bondage fetish? What bondage fetish, I ask?), a dragon-smirk etched on her snout, and Seraphina grinned.

"Leave me and my mother alone!" she said. "And...and you should be kinder to children and small animals!"

(Yes, Seraphina is blonde. Why do you ask?)

Kitt leaped forward towards Word, ready to snatch the gear from him.

"Hey, kids," the bodyguard said. "You know that old chestnut about the old, grizzled mercenary with a heart of gold?"

She leaped in front of Word, moving more quickly than Kitt would have ever expected, and grabbed the blue-haired girl by the neck, holding a wicked-looking dagger to her throat.

"Urban myth. Get the dragon off the mag-lift, or she dies."

Seraphina flung her an imploring glare, crystalline limpid pools of eyes beginning to tear in an expression that would have brought pity in the heart of even the most hardened of people.

The bodyguard rolled her eyes. "My son's a lot better at that puppy-dog look than you, kid. Don't make me repeat myself."

"But you have a child. How can you threaten to kill people?" Seraphina said.

"I like to eat and sleep in a bed."

"You eat in your bed?" Seraphina was momentarily startled. "Eww."

Word coughed. "Well done," he said to the bodyguard. "Drop her off at the Precinct when you've got the time." He turned his attention to Seraphina. "If your mother wins the race tomorrow, your little friend here will die."

"She's not my friend..." Seraphina began, desperately trying to buy some time. She noticed that he carried a black gear in his hand, and was stroking it as he spoke. The psi-gear! He wants to kill my mother and conquer the world with that!

The wraith-dragons started to roar, ripping through the rappel gear that held them in position, and the mag-lift began to shake with the impact.

"Wraith-dragons, stop moving!" Word commanded.

It had no effect.

"The mag-blast must have destroyed the control gear!"

The wraith dragons started howling, their sinuous movements indicating an immediate attack, and the four people on board the mag-lift looked at each other in dismay. Kitt moaned as the blade lightly pricked her throat as the mag-lift swayed.

"Give this to Dragon Booster!" Parm and Cyrano came running into the compound, followed by Lance on Fracshun. Parm tossed some gear to Natasha who tossed it towards Beau, while Parm and Lance stayed out of view.

"Here!"

Beau quickly magged the Green bashing gear that Natasha offered and fired a ball at the Wraith dragons.

---

Kitt tried not to move as the lift shuddered again, but noticed the Wraith dragons turn towards Artha and Beau. They both launched at the Dragon Booster, and Kitt nearly cried out before the blade tightened against her throat as the lift swayed dangerously.

"Hold on, Kitt!" Artha called, pulling out his staff as Beau fired three simultanious mag blasts, two at the Wraith Dragons, and one lifting Artha into the air and sending him towards the mag lift.

---

"What is going on?" Moordryd came running out of the compound and skidded to a halt centimeters from Anaclaretta, Gareth, and Cain.

"Who is this?"

"One of your father's bodyguards. Dragon Booster's in a fix, if you wanted a chance to kill him." Cain informed his leader.

"Right, and you're coming with me!" Moordryd turned towards the mag lift, and Cain shrugged off Gareth before following.

Anaclaretta struggled under the additional weight, but Gareth admired her for persevering. They eventually made it to the stables, and Anaclaretta helped him lie back on a pile of clean bedding.

"I have to go out and help my crew, but I'll be back."

"Be careful!" Gareth's words touched Anaclaretta. Apart from Malfunkshun, no one was ever concerned about her.

---

Hurry up, Artha! Kitt willed silently as the woman guard pulled her off the lift.

"Hold it!" Artha landed with a thud, his staff pointed at Word.

"How about we discuss this?"

Word smiled slowly.

"There is nothing to discuss," he said. "I have the gear, and the girl."

"You're not walking out of this, Paynn," Artha said. "Not with that gear."

Beau reared into the air, and roared loudly. Nearly all bar Word drew back a step.

"Let Kitt go," Artha continued.

Word shrugged. "My only leverage, I am afraid. Unless you would prefer to sacrifice yourself..."

"I won't ask again, Paynn. Let her go." The Dragon Booster's tone did not falter.

"I admit, I am interested in seeing just how much you care for her..." Word said, still smiling.

--

"Artha! You can't let him get away!" Parm whispered into his comm. "He'll destroy the city!"

"But it's Kitt!" Artha whispered back. "I can't just let her..."

--

"Get in position," Moordryd whispered, and Anaclaretta hastened to obey, the last one to join them. There were about ten Dragon Eye crew-members, spreading out in the spearhead attack pattern that they preferred to use, surrounding the Dragon Booster.

--

Seraphina slid a hand around the back of her saddle, searching for the gear she'd put in there that morning as a last-minute decision. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her, and she thought she'd change that. She glanced worriedly at the scene in front of her, the girl held by the bodyguard and the Dragon Booster trying to make threats, and the other girl she'd seen stalking the Dragon Booster once or twice just standing there in the background.

--

"ARTHA!" Parm yelled, finally noticing the Dragon Eye crew.

At that moment, Moordryd gave the signal, and the ten of them released their strongest mag-blasts, directing them at the Dragon Booster. The bodies of both the Dragon Booster and the black-and-gold dragon were captured by the light, and both released screams.

The wraith-dragons sensed the weakness of their prey, and leaped. Beau roared at the attack, swinging his tail as though it was a club, desperately trying to drive them off.

Seraphina took advantage of the momentary confusion to grab the short-range Aero Gear, and direct it to fly at top speed towards the bodyguard.

The bodyguard let out a short cry of surprise as it hit her wrist, and the dagger flew off to bury itself in the leg of one of the wraith dragons. Kitt took the opportunity to release herself, turning around and trying to aim a punch at the woman, but she dodged, one swift kick to Kitt's midsection sending her flying back and nearly under Beau's feet.

--

"Beau, hold still!" Artha called, just in time to stop Beau from trampling Kitt. He reached down and pulled her onto the dragon's back. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Kitt held a hand to her throat breifly. "He's still got the gear."

"Hey, boy? These dragons aren't under Word's control anymore. Can you get them to help us?"

Beau reared onto his hind legs and roared, before wailing to the other dragons.

“Time to go, Sir.” Kyregis began moving Word towards Abandonn as the two freed dragons turned to them.

“So soon?”

Word scowled up at the Dragon Booster as the Black and Gold Dragon of (Random Caps Lock) legend landed between him and his escape route.

“Moordryd! Get him!”

“Dragon Eyes! Close in!” Moordryd and Decpeshun led the rest of the crew into a tight circle around Artha, Kitt, and Beau.

---

Anaclaretta felt a twinge of guilt at how unfairly outnumbered the three heroes were, but felt trapped. She couldn’t betray Moordryd or her crew. It was then that she glanced up and saw Seraphina Lionstone Aretmidora Frost, still on the lift, preparing her dragon to attack.

Anaclaretta let out a surprisingly mellifluous war cry as she launched Malfunkshun towards the blonde beauty.

---

Sarahfina gasped in shock and fumbled her gear as she saw the huge black dragon launch at her.

---

((Sorry it’s shoddy. Feel rather crap today.))

Seraphina (for her mother, despite her...individual...tastes in baby names, could spell quite capably) Lionstone Aretmidora Frost quickly recovered from her brief moment of shock, launching into a duel with the black dragon-rider. It was a fierce and a dramatic battle, black against white, neither rider apparently willing to compromise, desperate movement of golden sun and dark moon.

Everyone else ignored them.

--

"Brown bashing gear!" Parm yelled.

"Coming!" Lance rummaged through the various gears they'd hung on the saddle.

"Got it!"

"Right!" Parm activated his screen. "Mag it at maximum energy to Word Paynn, coordinates ninety-four north!"

"But..." Lance began.

Parm allowed himself a small grin. "This should work!"

--

"Sir!" The bodyguard looked up to see the brown gear hurtling towards them, and pushed Word to the ground as it whistled overhead.

--

"You, attack the wraith dragons!" Moordryd commanded his crew members. "Cain and I will go after the gold dragon."

The crew members hastened to obey, moving to shield off the area, allowing Cain and Moordryd a nearly-clear route to attacking the already-weakened Dragon Booster and Dragon of Legend.

"Let us defeat Random Capitalisation and the Forces Of Good Once And For All!" Moordryd muttered to Cain. "You take the right, I'll take the left!"

--

Artha looked up in dismay at the sight of Moordryd and Cain both rushing towards him, lances raised, and raised his blocking staff. "Get behind me, Kitt," he said. "Parm, can you hear me? Some help would be good, like, now?"

--

"Right, get me Light Blue Tentacle Gear!" Parm called to Lance, who handed him the gear right on command.

"Activate gear!" Parm commanded.

--

In a mighty burst of mag-energy, Seraphina activated her final Aero gear, trying to use the flight advantage in order to finally bring her opponent down. The black rider clearly hadn't been trained by an Elite Class rider--some of those moves were certainly less-than-orthodox, and very dishonourable and besides, were starting to mess up her hair--but she was formidable enough, and Seraphina knew that in order for Good To Triumph Along With Random Capitalisation, she would have to finish this battle quickly.

Yet, Anaclaretta too had great strength of will, and in a miraculous show of effort, her energy combined with Malfunkshun's (for rider and dragon indeed shared a deep bond) caused the black dragon to also levitate from the ground to meet her opponent on equal terms, and the battle continued.

--

"Took them long enough," the bodyguard muttered. She pulled the lever on the mag-lift, which gave an odd sort of clunk and had no effect.

"Machinery's broken." Word put the psi-gear beside his knee as he bent down to study the mechanism. "I've known how to build these things from scratch since I was ten. Watch my back, Kyregis," he commanded, and the bodyguard drew a short-range mag-pistol. Most of the dragons were occupied with each other, and for the moment Word Paynn felt himself ignored, his fingers deftly working the mag-lift so it could transport both him and the gear back to his citadel.

--

"Tentacle Gear Attack!"

The Light Blue gear shot out two tendrils of light blue material towards the black psi-gear, quickly seizing it. The bodyguard drew a dagger, trying to slice through it and reclaim the gear, but two more tentacles appeared, wrapping themselves around her legs, and she was clearly having some difficulty in fending them off.

--

"Come on, come on..." Parm muttered.

--

Moordryd looked up, momentarily distracted, as a scream shattered the air, and saw that one of his crew members had been badly hurt, the wraith dragon's spiked tail tearing through his midsection.

It was distraction enough for the Dragon Booster to use his mag-staff to throw him from Decepshun, as Kitt cheered.

"Way to go, stableboy!"

"Right!" Cain turned to the Dragon Booster. Coershun began running, but Beau stopped him with one final mag burst.

---

"Artha! I've got the gear," Parm whispered into the comm link as he and Lance snuck quietly away.

"Great!" Artha turned to the fallen Crew leader. "It's been fun, but I've really gotta go."

Beau turned around and cleared the gates in a single leap.

---

Seeing him go, Natasha led Typhoon away quietly, needing to rest her dragon before the next battle, as there would surely be one.

---

"Moordryd!" Word and the woman body guard struggled free of the tentacle gear. "Get here!"

Moordryd scrambled up from the ground and ran towards his father.

"He got the gear?"

Word didn't answer his son, he was busy running through the events of the past few minutes.

"Do you have a Crew member called 'Artha'?"

"Like the Penn brat? No." Moordryd frowned. "Why?"

"Never mind. I want that gear back, understood?"

"Yes, Father."

---

"Are you okay?" Artha helped Kitt off Beau, running a thumb over the small red smear on her throat.

"Never better. Nice moves back there, stableboy."

"A-hem. He had help!" Lance rode into the stables on Fracshun, followed by Cyrano and Parm, who waved the Psi gear triumphantly.

---

Anaclaretta didn't falter in her attack on Saraphina when she heard her fellow Crew member cry out, but it worried her greatly.

As soon as the Dragon Booster left, she distracted Saraphina with a swift blow to her shoulder, throwing her off balance long enough for Malfunkshun to break away from the fight.

Anaclaretta jumped to the ground even before her dragon had landed and pushed her way towards the wounded Crew member.

"Get me hot water and towels," she yelled at no one in particular. "And call Dragon City Medical."

---

Word stood at the window of the higest room of his citadel, gazing out at the many layers of track below.

"So Connor Penn, my old friend, only your son was good enough?"

Moordryd kicked the wall.

"Get the gear back, Moordryd," he said, trying to imitate his father's voice in a whiny tone. "Find the Dragon Booster's secret hideout, break into the Dragon Booster's of-course-special mag-shielded safe, oh, and while you're at it, just conquer the city for me, would you, and do pick up some eggs on the way."

Cain was bent over a screen, and took some time to reply.

"We have at least one lead," he said. "Kitt Wann, remember?"

"But we can't kidnap her a second time!" Moordryd said, genuinely shocked. "That would be...just wrong. It's illegal to repeat evil schemes, remember?"

"What about spying on her?" Cain said.

Moordryd looked a little relieved. "Yes. Order it done," he said imperiously. "And what about the other two girls?"

"Natasha Maximov and Olive Frost's daughter," Cain said. "The latter did not appear to be associated, but the former might help us."

"I will order it."

Moordryd, startled, looked up at the voice that had suddenly come from the compound's speakers, and his expression did not change as he watched his father.

"I have a...contact who will carry out half of the spying mission. This contact will focus on Natasha Maximov, though for Kitt Wann you may take care of that, Moordryd," Word Paynn said.

Moordryd nodded. "Yes. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"I will keep you informed, Moordryd. You need only do as I command. I think that even you should be able to manage that. And you will be at the Elite Class tracks this afternoon; Cain too."

Moordryd bit his lip. "Yes, Father," he said.

Word Paynn's image briefly acknowledged his words, and then disappeared from the screen.

"So we'll send that girl after Miss Wann," Moordryd said. "You know whom I mean." He snapped his fingers. "Ana...Ana-thingy."

"Now?" Cain lifted a hand to his communication device.

"Might as well." Moordryd shrugged. "And...well, if you hadn't been there earlier, the Dragon Booster could have killed me. Thanks."

Cain raised an eyebrow. "It's a minion thing," he said. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

Moordryd's expression changed to a scowl. "Just call...Thingy...that girl," he said.

--

"How's your leg?" Anaclaretta asked Gareth, who occupied a bed in the Dragon Eye crew's infirmary, next to the crew member who had been wounded the previous day.

He smiled at her, a brave smile. "I don't feel the pain any more, though that's probably because of the medicine you gave me..." He looked around the room. "Oooh, nice kitten," he said. "Shiny. Did you say that that stuff usually cost hundreds of drakkals on the streets? The little skittering hand skeletons with claws are about to attack me. Can't you see them?"

It had cost her a reasonable portion of her prize money, though the supplier had been known to Anaclaretta, and had given her a sizeable discount, influenced by her good nature.

Anaclaretta shrugged, and returned the stare, gazing deeply into Gareth's blue-green eyes. She did not break the gaze until interrupted by a cough from the other bed.

"Aren't you going to ask how I am, pretty girl? I could do with a nice little nurse too..."

It was the Crew-member who'd tried to pick a fight with her earlier, but Anaclaretta's naturally forgiving nature had come to the fore.

"You'll be fine," Anaclaretta said, her tone far harsher than she had used with Gareth.

Her communication device rang, and she picked it up.

"Moordryd wants you to watch Kitt Wann!" Cain's voice commanded. "We think she might lead us to the Dragon Booster and that gear!"

"I'll get right to it," Anaclaretta said, slightly relieved that she wouldn't have to bother with the Crew-member's antagonism any more.

She quickly walked out of the room, though she flung a swiftly reassuring smile to Gareth as she left.

--

"Yes, we got the gear, highly commendable for us," Parm said. He bent over it. "So what are to we do with it?" He touched the spinning ball at the top. "Precision engineering," he continued. "Despite what the main body of it would suggest--an optical illusion of the sort pioneered in post-Empire days--this is actually very similar to a fully-operational gyrocerebroscope, which I suspect relates to its function..."

A blow from Mortis' staff knocked it out of his hands, and he looked up in surprise and shock.

"It is very dangerous," the High Priest said. "You cannot afford to accidentally set it off."

"You said it needed great mental strength to be controlled, didn't you?" Artha said. "Well, I'm the Dragon Booster. Wouldn't it be able to make dragons independent again?"

"You are not ready for it!" Mortis' voice broke in. "Such control would drive you mad!"

Artha shrugged. "Okay, okay," he said. "I won't touch it."

"Parm's right," Kitt interrupted. "What are we supposed to do with this thing?"

"We will keep it safe from misuse," Mortis said, "and use it when the due time comes."

Lance pouted slightly. "That sounds boring."

Mortis laughed. "Most world-changing events are, at least in part."

--

Natasha began sweeping out her father's stables.

It was work she hated; it blistered her hands, took a lot of time, and served to rouse her fiery temper. Her father often told her that she needed to take on even more family responsibilities, but she far preferred roaming the streets on her dragon Typhoon.

"Hello! Could you tell me where Penn Stables are?" a voice called.

Natasha looked up to see a strange woman on the street, leading a black dragon. She had cold eyes, and hair of a very dark purple shade partially covered by a silver helmet.

Natasha frowned. One intruder was enough to annoy her, and she wanted to get her job done as quickly as possible so she could roam the streets stalking the Dragon Booster. "We're Maximov Stables," she said, "and we don't give the addresses of competitors out."

The woman shrugged. "That's a pity, then," she said, and walked away.

A slight shiver made its way up Natasha's spine. She felt an odd aura of something sinister about the woman, but she quickly banished it from her mind. After all, feeling auras and mysterious shivers was usually a sign of being the sort of person who bought Claw-dust from street-sellers for hundreds of drakkals and then went around seeing weird things.

--

"Mother?"

Olive Frost stopped her limbering exercise with an expression of slight annoyance on her face.

"I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I had a split end emergency to deal with and I forgot," her daughter said, the words running over each other like a quickly-running brook or perhaps a novice flute soloist blurring notes and mistakes equally together.

"...And?" Olive said.

"And Word Paynn doesn't want you to win today and he said he'd kill this girl I didn't know only I helped her escape and she's not in danger any more and that's about it I think," Seraphina said.

Olive shrugged. "I'll deal with that when the time comes," she said. She expected Word probably would try something, but she resolved to simply pack a few unexpected gears on Grunewald and a spare mag-pistol in her boot and use her dueling skills to deal with that when she had to.

"Okay," Seraphina said. "Just so long as it helps."

"Why don't you get an early seat in the stands?" Olive said, making sure she wasn't speaking too quickly and the tone of her voice was set to 'persuasion'.

"All right," Seraphina said, and disappeared.

Olive breathed a slight sigh of relief--at times Seraphina could be very difficult to shake off--and went back to her exercises, making sure every muscle in her body was ready for today's battle.

Being a leader had it's perks, Moordryd had to admit as he ran himself a bath. None of the other suites had anything of the sort- it was communal showers for the rest fo the Dragon Eye crew. After a day like today, he needed the relaxation.

But one of the drawbacks to leadership presented it self as Cain burst in when the Dragon Eye leader was immersed to the neck in fluffy pinkish bubbles.

"Moordryd! Anna...Anna... the Anna-chick-girl-whatsername has left to..."

His voice trailed off and he stared unflatteringly at his superior.

"You were saying, Cain?"

Moordryd asked, sounding vaugely threatening. Cain shook himself, but hadn't managed to thow off a slightly startled look

"uh... the Anna-racer has gone to trail Kitt Wann. Um.. I'll just.. are you always that pale?"

He asked, pointing over hus shoulder at the door and edging backwards.

Moordryd looked daggers

"I don't get much sun..."

He said through gritted teeth, looking down at his shoulders and the top of his chest, visible above the foam.

"Ah, yeah I'll be uh..."

"OUT!"

Cain skedadled


***

Anaclaretta was a brillaint racer, no one could deny that, but, she sighed miserably as she srambled over the rooftop, she wasn't really spy material. As hungered and malnourished as she was, the physical, dragonless exercise was making her dizzy and faint. But she'd be too noticible with her dragon, so on foot it was.

***

Cain retreated to the infirmatory to take stock of the damage the damn Dragon Booster had caused. e also wanted to see if Word's body guard would live- although he was in two minds about that.

The guard looked up at him vaugely

"You're not the pretty girl... you're not pretty at all..."

For a few seconds, Cain was rather tempted to kill the guy and pretend nature did it.
But duty reared it's ugly head.

"No, your shmoozing object has work to do."

He said, having to satisfy himself with waspishness instead.

"Oh pity. She had hair like the wind... whoosh..."

Cain blinked and frowned readign the label of his medicationa nd shrugged.

"She'll be back- or at least she BETTER be back..."


***

Natasha threw down the broom in disgust, unable to concentrate. How could one stupid passerby unnerve her so much?

She took a deep, angry breath. Did they LOOK like Penn stables? besides, the place was wrecked from what her father said. Couldn't the girl read?

She replaced the broom in it's corner, knowing hr Da would have a fit if she left it out again

it was no use, she would never be able to be a decent housewife. Perhaps that's what bothered her, the idea that she was being trained- domesticated, repressed.

In a huff at the idea she found herself wandeirng out the gates on Typhoon before she could register what she was doing. Her comfort in her dragon was so automatic, she no longer noticed herself on his back, they were one...

So caught up in her inner turmoil and uncontrolable tempers, she didn't notice a dark dragon shadowing her

***

Aleena was once again amazed at how easy this job was. there was something about 'good' and 'decent' people that gave them this carelessness. Perhaps it was their lack of really hostile enemies. Having the threat of a dagger in your back at any moment gave life a certain edge.

She smirked and continued to stalk Natasha

Anaclaretta rubbed her eyes tiredly. It had been a long day already, and it seemed as though Wann would never leave Penn stables.

Why am I following her? Because she hangs out with Penn? Oooh, that's a---Oh. Oh!

No longer tired, Anaclaretta jumped up suddenly, knocking herself off balance and falling with a hard thud to the ground. The kids were all inside, but her fall didn't go entirely unnoticed.

---

"Beau? What've you found, boy?" Artha, kitt, Parm and Lance exited the lift that took them to and from Mortis' temple.

The dragon of legend was nudging at something on the ground.

"It's a Dragon Eye Crew member!" gasped Kitt.

"From the race today," Parm added.

The girl on the ground moaned and began sitting up. She paused as she noticed the group looming over her.

"Wha? Oh, hi." So I seriously muffed the spy job.

"Hi," said Artha, a little coldly. "What are you doing?"

"Don't play stupid with me." Anaclaretta stood, swaying a little unsteadily. "I know who you are, Penn."

"Yeah, I'm Artha Penn. Well done."

"Artha Penn, aka Dragon Booster."

"You've made a mistake . . . . " Artha sounded less than confident.

"So leave before I make you," added Kitt.

"I don't think that will be a problem." Anaclaretta used her strong mental link with Malfunkshun to summon the dragon.

He arrived quickly, and stood calmly behind her. Beau growled a warning, but both girl and dragon ignored it.

"And you can be sure I'm not the only person who knows," she added. "Lucky for you, I'm anti-war."

"What are you suggesting?"asked Parm. "That we let you help us?"

"Did I say that?"

"Yes," Lance spoke up.

"Listen." Anaclaretta dropped some of her facade. "I love my crew, but this," she waved a hand at the city. "And this," at Malfunkshun. "Mean so much more."

"You want to play double agent?" Kitt asked sceptically.

"I don't play at anything. I want to do the right thing for once."

---

Natasha had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched as she and Typhoon made their way through the city. She still didn't really know where they were going as her dragon wound his way along varying levels.


"Let's turn back, hey Typhoon? We really shouldn't be out so late."

The dragon snorted in reply, but didn't turn back.

"Typhoon, what're you . . . ?" Natasha frowned. Typhoon never disobeyed. "What's going on?"

---

Aleena frowned in slight confusion. Why was her target going to Sun City?

Michael Patrik Maximov ran a hand through his brown, but greying, hair.

“What am I going to do with you Natasha?” he questioned to himself. His second child was becoming more and more like her mother every day

Natasha had an independent streak in her, just like Kat had had, and that independence had caused her death during a race 15 years ago.

Her killers, Michael had later learned, had been members of her own Crew, ordered by Word Payne. The reason; Katrina had, in Word’s eyes, betrayed the Dragon Eye crew when she had pulled out of the crew altogether to settle down with him to start a family.

At her funeral, Michael had sworn that he would do anything to keep his daughter safe from the Dragon Eye crew. So when she was old enough he began to domesticate her, and it was then that he had discovered just how much Natasha was like Kat.

“Da?” Gabriel called from the entrance of the house, his tone of voice had Michael at the door way in a flash.

“Typhoon’s not in his stable and I can’t find Tash anywhere” Gabriel said in a panicked voice

“Is her Saddle and gear gone?”

Gabriel shook his head

“Gear up Solaar Flare, quickly, we must find her” Michael said as he sprinted to rouse his own dragon.

“Sorry to wake you...” he said to his white dragon, Blizzard, as he grabbed his saddle and Aero gear for Blizzard to mag

“but we’ve got to find Natasha”

The sound of cheering echoed, and Natasha looked up.

The Elite Class races. Of course.

There was no way she would have ever been able to attend; only the richest citizens of Dragon City could possibly have afforded to pay the price. She'd heard, though, that today's battle would mean that the balance of power in Dragon City would be permanently shifted; for here, to race and to win meant power. These days, of course, rich entreprenurs such as Word Paynn had been granted political power in return for their wealth and gifts...but the old legends still existed in the city, and brave racers such as Olive Frost were said to live for the chance of bringing back the ancient glory days.

I might as well stay around here, Natasha decided, guiding Typhoon around another narrow track spiraling up a citadel. At least I might get to hear who wins before everyone else in Mid City does, and maybe even see a little of it.

The racers were clearly filing into the stadium; she could hear the traditional trumpet music being played, and the stomp of heavy dragon feet.

--

"Moordryd! We're late!"

His crew leader peeked out from behind a bathroom door, a fluffy pink towel wrapped around his waist. Cain, who was formally dressed with the Paynn insignia on his jumpsuit, tried not to stare.

"What?" Moordryd said, sounding rather sulky. He'd taken longer in the bathroom than he'd intended, but the warm water had after all been so relaxing.

"Your father wanted us at the Elite races today!"

Moordryd gasped, realising that time had indeed flown a lot more quickly than he'd thought. He slammed the bathroom door and had raced five paces foward before he realised that he was still in the towel, which was slipping. "Get Decepshun ready!" he commanded, and raced back into the bathroom, desperately trying to hold up the towel.

--

"Word Paynn has another evil scheme!" Mortis' voice broke into Artha's comlink. "You'll need to get to the Elite Class races."

"I can't afford to get in," Artha said.

"Go as the Dragon Booster. Survey the area, and if you need to, strike to protect people from the wraith dragons!"

"We need to go, guys," Artha said.

His friends had heard both ends of the conversation, and nodded.

Parm gave Anaclaretta a piercing look.

"Are we going to leave her here?"

"Well, she said she wanted to help us," Artha said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, but do you believe her?" Kitt broke in.

"I can help," Anaclaretta said steadily. "I know a lot of secret entrances and drains around the city. Where did you say you wanted to go?"

Inside, she was jubilant. They weren't going to kill her--as any Dragon Eye crew member would on discovering a spy--and she'd learned that Artha Penn was the Dragon Booster. Not bad for one day, Anaclaretta thought.

--

"You're late," Word Paynn remarked to his son, who slid with damp hair into a seat between his father and Cain. The female bodyguard was standing behind the group, watchful and poised for action.

"I...was busy," Moordryd muttered. "Finding that gear. You know how it is."

Below, the racers were lining up, the twelve who had passed the semi-finals nearly all in the ring, colours forming a bright rainbow; Moordryd counted four reds, spacd evenly apart in the row; the red dragons were valued for their speed and were the most common bone colour in Elite-class races, though Moordryd knew that speed certainly wasn't the only skill that counted; two blacks--their riders were Megan Dedrovic and Khalio Talis, Moordryd knew; Dedrovic had been the Dragon Eye crewleader before she had left for greater things, though Moordryd had made sure her desertion had not gone unnoticed--a purple--Moordryd raised an eyebrow; purple wasn't a common colour in Elite-Class racing; two blues--one of the riders had black hair which reminded him of the girl on the blue dragon he'd seen yesterday--a white, ridden by a large dark-haired rider he'd never seen before; a light blue; and in the centre Olive Frost on her orange dragon, the crowd's favourite.

The ceremonial music blared one more time, and then fell silent; the crowd yelled until they were quieted by the announcer's voice.

"Welcome, one and all, to the Quinta-Annus Sun City Battle Race!"

The competing dragons formed a circle and were ridden around the ring, each rider introduced in turn.

"Mancer Fiamis, on Burstbryght!"

"Liath Krimmins, Stelhard!"

Moordryd turned to his father. "What's your plan?"

"Megan Dedrovic, Percepshun!"

"My wraiths will do their work," his father muttered.

"Meredith Bryant, Hartfyr!"

"And us..?" Moordryd gestured to Cain and himself.

"Selio Cortez, Vitae!"

"You will be needed."

"Bella Nepenthe, Morado!"

"And your plan is...?" Moordryd asked. He thought it would be rather helpful if his father told him his plans well beforehand, so he would have the chance to prepare.

"Lisson Renfield, Pyrro!"

His father waved him to silence. "You will learn, Moordryd, you will learn."

"Khalio Talis, Dystortyon!"

Word Paynn gestured to the bodyguard. "Make your way to the back of the Arena and follow my earlier orders," he said. "Do not allow yourself to be seen."

"Brennen Pol, Stunder!"

The bodyguard let the tilt of her head suggest that she would be leaving Word, and as her primary duty was to directly protect him and she was temporarily partnerless she was reluctant to follow this order.

"Brydda Wulfrid, Fyrflyt!"

"Nobody would be foolish enough to attack here...and my son and his lieutenant are experienced crew-members. Go now," Word said to the bodyguard.

"Sien Moscow, Zephyr!"

She disappeared into the crowd, moving with surprising stealth, and Moordryd decided to turn his attention back to the dragons. It was an Elite Class race, after all--the Elite Class race--and it would be a shame to waste the extortionate ticket price probably paid by his father.

"AND...Olive Frost, on Grunewald!"

The crowd burst into the biggest cheer yet as the favourite waved to them.

Word Paynn allowed herself a humourless smile.

"She won't enjoy the fruits of fame for long, I suspect."

He glanced at that annoying daughter of hers, in the crowd some distance away from them, who didn't seem to have noticed them. It was a pity she had had to turn up yesterday in that fiasco over the gear; annoying little chit, who had probably warned her mother about him. Not, of course, that that would make a difference. In one of his attempts to upset her mother he had offered to marry her on the basis that she was less formidable than Frost senior yet promised power, though the suit had been turned down. Word was half-glad he wouldn't have to put up with her, though the blonde hair and riding skills were admittedly desirable genetic traits.

"The riders queue up for the first event...the obstacle course!"

Moordryd watched as the riders took their places, their expressions serious, and as the starter's flare shot into the air they all took off, leaping and dashing across the artifically-designed obstacles.

It wasn't that different from the All City Racing courses Moordryd regularly took place in him, though the average skill level was much higher, and he found himself watching in interest as Olive Frost took a narrow lead over Megan Dedrovic to come out at the head.

--

Aleena saw the blue dragon stop, and realised that the rider had probably chosen that vantage-point as a way to listen to the Elite Class races and view the part of the course that ventured out of the stadium onto the surrounding streets. Anyone who was anyone in Sun City would have attended; hence, the streets were mostly deserted. The folks in the lower cities were accustomed to getting their news second-hand, and the security patrols of Sun City tended to take a grim view of anyone wandering around without legal business.

Not, of course, that Aleena would ever be stopped by one of them; and the girl she was following was sufficiently well-dressed and with even the slight trace of tan that could get her mistaken for a Sun City citizen.

--

Natasha heard loud cheering coming from inside the stadium, and wondered which rider had won the first race.

"I saw you yesterday," a voice called to her, and she looked up to see a blonde-haired girl on one of the stadium's balconies.

"Yeah. I was going to wish your mother good luck only you ran away," Natasha called back.

"She's just won the obstacle course, though not by much," Seraphina said. "The crowd went wild, and I came out for a bit of fresh air before the next race starts. She seems fine."

"That's good." Natasha shrugged.

"Do you have a seat?" Seraphina asked.

Natasha did a double take. "I'm from Mid City, remember? It'd probably cost as much as my family makes in a year."

"The riders get free seats for two family members," Seraphina said. "I don't have a father or any sisters, and when I asked a friend from school she said that the racing was another symptom of our political corruption that was rising like a festering boil to the surface and needed to be lanced by the fight for freedom and that I was a blatant case of Sueus puella perfectus anyway, which I don't know what means but doesn't sound very nice. So, do you want to sit with me? It'll make up for me running from you yesterday."

Natasha sorted out the girl's long speech in her head. "Sure," she said eventually.

--

"This is a shortcut," Anaclaretta said, showing the members of Penn Racing the large pipe. "Third left, second right, and you've found a secret entrance to the Elite Tracks."

Parm busied himself with his wrist screen. "According to the trajectory, she is approximately correct. I should remind you that she does work for Moordryd..."

"I want peace, Anaclaretta interrupted him. "And you have to follow me if you want to get to the Elite tracks on time to stop Word."

"C'mon, Parm, let's just follow her. What do we have to lose?" Artha set off down the pipe.

"Try 'everything'," Kitt muttered to herself, but nobody heard her.

"Eww! There's slime everywhere! It's almost as bad as girl germs!" Lance complained.

"Yes, Lance. So why don't you just stay home?" Artha said sweetly.

"Yes," Anaclaretta said, catching on. "You should stay here. It'll be too dangerous."

"No! I can stick it out!" Lance strode into the pipe, and his elders exchanged knowing looks above his head as they followed on.

Gabriel Mavryk Maximov sighed as he turned away from the training track, one of his baby sister’s favourite places.

“This isn’t good” he said to Solaar Flare in a grim tone as his vid screen popped up.

“Any luck?” His father’s tone was worried, not that Gabriel would blame him.

As head strong as Natasha could be at times, neither Gabriel nor his father wanted to lose another family member.

“None” Gabriel shook his head

“Something about this is just not right Da, Tash normally calms down after half an hour on Typhoon, and then she comes back to the Stables”

His father looked pensive “True”

Suddenly a memory hit him

"Hello! Could you tell me where Penn Stables are?" a voice called.

Natasha looked up to see a strange woman on the street, leading a black dragon. She had cold eyes, and hair of a very dark purple shade partially covered by a silver helmet.

Natasha frowned. One intruder was enough to annoy her, and she wanted to get her job done as quickly as possible so she could roam the streets stalking the Dragon Booster. "We're Maximov Stables," she said, "and we don't give the addresses of competitors out."

The woman shrugged. "That's a pity, then," she said, and walked away.

Gabriel had passed his sister on his way to the house when the stranger had appeared. In his mind something about the stranger wasn’t right, so for his sister’s sake, he had hovered inside the house entrance to keep an eye on things. When the stranger had left he thought that that was the end of things… but it wasn’t.

There was also one other thing he had noticed, the Dragon Eye mark on her shirt.

“Oh, no. No, no, no” Gabriel said in horror

“What?” his father asked

“I think I know why Natasha hasn’t come home”

“Why?”

“She’s being followed by a Dragon Eye crewmember”

His father turned white “Go back to the stables, get Natasha’s gear, she’ll have no way of defending herself if she’s attacked”

“Yes, sir” Gabriel said as he turned Solaar Flare around.

HELLLOOOOO

Anyone there?

Anyone gunna reply

There was a sizzling sound above her as the stadium's durable floor was flooded with lava in preparation for the Flaming Tracks, but Talia Kyregis ignored it as she ran through the first of the required gear checks. The wraith dragons should have been smuggled into the vicinity already; all she would need to do would be to press the correct buttons at the correct time.

--

"That's Megan Dedrovic, the papers publish all sorts of nasty stories about her but my mother says it's all the fault of the Paynns, and the one on the white dragon is Sien Moscow, from Sky City, she gets called the Angel though she's having an affair with Khalio Talis over there and Brydda Wulfrid. Mancer Fiamis, riding Burstbryght over there, staked his house that he'd win this race. He's got about three other properties, but I think betting is immoral anyway. Selio Cortez is really nice, he used to let me ride on Vitae when I was little. Meredith Bryant, who's also the Dragon City cake-baking champion, gets called the Phoenix, because she only came out of retirement last year, and she's doing really well. Brennen Pol..."

"Okay, enough," Natasha said, cutting the girl off. "I've lost track."

Seraphina looked ashamed. "I'm sorry. I'm talking too much. There aren't many people who want to listen to me and I get carried away sometimes."

"It's okay. Just a bit too much information," Natasha said, scanning the area. She recognised some of the racers, checking their gear and stretching in preparation for the next race, from the news, but not others; Seraphina's information was interesting, but it was a bit too much to take in at one time.

She saw a flash of white hair sitting on the other side of the stadium, and turned to the girl next to her.

"Lend me your binoculars?" Natasha asked.

"Sure." Seraphina handed them over, and Natasha focused on that speck of white. Word Paynn, she realised, with his son and a Dragon Eye crew member. They'd fought him yesterday. What was he planning?