"What, it doesn't sound like fun?" (Bonaventure/Alghieri Race Preparations)

[Minion Alghieri]

The Iolanthe wasn't exactly a tempting target, but it was pretty obvious to even the most casual glance that she'd probably be an easy one. Thus, it probably wasn't a surprise to Bonaventure that a large hovercraft filled with men would choose to head straight for her ramp, and that the man - mongrel, orc, whatever - riding shotgun would leap out and knock on said ramp.

Hard.

"Salut, M'sieur Bonaventure!" Alghieri's voice was jovial. Today was looking to be a good day.

[Corias Bonaventure]

What time was it? 4:30 A.M.?

At least, it was Iolanthe local time. Corias had just landed on Brimstone IV, a cosmic stonesthrow from the Varunda system, and he hadn't fully adjusted from Galactic Standard Time to East Prakesh, Daylight Savings. Unlike the planet he grew up on, Brimstone IV had a tilt of two hundred fifteen degrees, meaning the maxim on the Northern Hemisphere ran, "Fall forward, spring back." It was that little astronomical trivium that meant the happy neighbor at the door had shown up a full hour earlier than he would have the other side of the autumn equinox.

Funny what goes through one's head at 4:30 in the morning.

Corias Bonaventure rolled off his bunk and slid open the nearest porthole. Squinting in the blistering noontide sun (so that's what time it was), he could make out the bulk of a sport-utility hovercraft on the tarmac. But the source of the pounding, and the shouting, was out of view.

The spacer pulled on a beater-style tanktop--Brimstone's climate made that perfectly acceptable attire--and marched groggily to the ventral access hatch. On the way, he picked up his sidearm and tucked it against the small of his back. With a few keystrokes, the gangplank whirred down to the dusty pavement to reveal a one-time customer. Corias was glad he'd thought to grab his pistol.

Descending the gangplank slowly, he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and said, "Puis-je vous aide?"

[Minion Alghieri]

"J'ai une proposition pour toi, Bonaventure. Remplace ton canon." Alghieri's cheerfulness was ineffable. "Un associé de moi a laissé tomber ses responsabilités en s'inscrivant pour une race.

"Est-ce que tu pourrais s'inscrire pour ceci?"

[Corias Bonaventure]

"Une race," Corias repeated. "Quelle sorte de race? Une race de pied, une race de pod? Une--"

He shook some more cobwebs from his head and glanced up at Iolanthe's bulky fuselage. "Une race spatial? Attends, ne dis-moi... pas la grande course de Fédéracé?"

The spacer leaned against a support strut and laughed. "Bien, je suis beaucoup obligé pour le compliment, Monsieur. Je suis flatté, vraiment. Mais je suis explorateur, pas un coureur spatial. Désolé. Mais, pendant que nous sommes sur la sujet, qu'est-ce que je recevrais--en plus de tout la mort, dangeur, et aventure de compétition avec une cohue de volous impérials, fortune-chasseurs désésperés, et tous les autres âmes pauvres, honnêts comme moi-même?"

[Minion Alghieri]

"Tu recevrais l'argent pour le carburant, la nouriture, les dépenses autres..." He let that hang for a moment, just long enough for Bonaventure to open his mouth.

"Et aussi chaque pièce de technologie de pointe pour la Iolanthe que tu pourrais vouloir. Une remise en état, totale et à mes frais. Qu'est-ce que tu dis?"

[Corias Bonaventure]

Corias took a deep breath. "C'est une offre plus généreuse." Et ça m'inquiéte, he thought. Mais ce serait dommage à laisser échapper une opportunité comme celle-ci.

"Maintenant, je ne m'engage pas à n'importe quoi ici, mais si je m'intérresse, je voudrais probablement un nouveau manifold d'hyperdrive. Le mien a presque quinze ans. Il est venu avec la navire quand je l'ai acheté, et je l'ai contourné comme un arbre de Noël. Je voudrais quelque chose un peu plus stable pour la course."

The spacer paused to see how Alghieri reacted to this fairly expensive request, then went on. "Je voudrais aussi améliorer les écrans défensifs. De quoi j'ai entendu, je pourrait avoir besoin d'eux. Autrement, la forte d'Iolanthe est ses senseurs, puis je voudrais m'assurer que ceux-la soient en haute condition. Si je m'intéresse, bien sûr."

[Minion Alghieri]

"Tout ce que tu veux, je dis. Ces pièces d'équipage sont très possible. Je les ai sur cette planète...si tu t'interesse..."

OOC/ Apologies for the delay.

[Corias Bonaventure]

"Tu ne dis..." Corias craned his neck to look past Alghieri at his posse in the hoverwagon. "Bien... appelles-moi intéressé."

***

So that was how it started. There was a hangar about ten miles west of Vestibule, the dismal little city where Brimstone's public spaceport languished. True to Alghieri's word, it was well stocked, and there was plenty of manpower to help shape the humble Iolanthe into a true coureur des étoiles. Once Corias saw the mongrel's men knew their stuff, and after he'd shared a little whiskey from the gangster's collection to seal the deal (not the dren he'd picked up at Yog's Bar and Grill--Corias wasn't that crazy), he gave his permission to let them start turning his beloved ship inside out.

Corias hadn't been kidding about the manifold. In fact, the whole hyperdrive was the first thing to go. A 1x was plenty for most civilian purposes--most military purposes, too--but for this race, it'd be severely underpowered. Surprisingly, Alghieri had a .75x drive lying around. It took some restructuring of the drive housing, but they'd managed to make the monster fit, and a dry run of the systems showed Iolanthe was taking well to the extra muscle. Most of the competition would still beat her off the line, but, if the rest of Corias's wish list panned out as well as the drive had, that wouldn't matter.

"La course ne sera pas une ligne droite, bien sûr. Les Impériaux vont la faire plus intéressant que ça. Tu peux compter sur des obstacles--les nuages de vapeur, les tempête d'ion, les régions de météorites--et autres bonnes choses comme ceux. Maintenant, tous les autres devront les circuler, mais pas l'Iolanthe. Avec ses senseurs et un peu bonne chance, je peux tracer une route droite par les régions de danger et couper parsecs outre de la course. Il y a seulement un problème. J'ai perdu la moitié de la matrice le mois dernier à des chats--c'est une histoire longue. J'ai encore le cortex central, et c'est la parte importante."