Sean gripped the leather handlebars of his motorcycle tightly, reviving the loud engine for everyone in the stands to hear.  All around him bike engines roared to life.  The Slum Races was the only way for him to make any decent amount of money.  The only thing that paid more was being a slum whore and he swore he'd ever sink that low.  He had a reputation to uphold.  Raising a hand, he lowered his acid green visor glasses from his loose messy brown bangs.  The visor came to life, showing him the views from all around his bike and details on the track.  As he revived his engine again, his speed showed on his visor.  Beside him, a member of his gang shouted out to him confidently.  "You're going to let someone else win this time, right? Make it interesting?"  Sean smirked devilishly, stating back cockily.  "Where's the fun in that? Just get faster. Speed is key, Nate!"  Nate rolled his eyes, kicking up his kickstand as the hovering lights moved out over the line.  No doubt the city built high above the lower city was watching them race for their own petty amusement.  

It was disgusting.  The lower city was falling apart.  It looked as dirty and grimy as the people.  While Valhalla sat above them like a glistening jewel of lights and bright colors.  They lived in luxury. While the people in the Slums killed each other just to eat.  The first orb turned red and Sean revived his engine.  Winning this would give him enough credits for a week of good living.  For the last twelve races, he had gone undefeated.  He just had a natural talent for racing.  The second orb turned yellow and Sean revived his engine again.  Glancing over to his left, he saw his rival gang leader.  Bradley of the Red Cyclones.  Bradley flipped down his half-helmet visor and flicked him off.  Sean rolled his eyes in response.  Bradly had been king of the Slum Races, until he had started racing.  The orb turned green and Sean revived the engine once last time before letting off the brake. His back-tire squealing as it lit up in a stunning green before taking off, leaving green flames in his wake.  In the stands a few men cheered, holding up signs with a large green dragon on it.  Sean smirked leaning sharply into the first turn.  His bike was known for making cutting edge turns.  Behind him, Bradley was hot on his ass.  

Bradley couldn't turn as sharp, but he could turn just fast enough.  Bradley's bike was designed for both speed and impact.  While Sean had designed his to be more for speed and handling.  Dashing down the straightaway, Bradley's bike started gaining on him.  His tires starting to ignite in a bright red flame.  Sean cursed; Bradley was going to force him to use up his plasma charges.  Sean started to drift away from the inside track, but Bradley revived up to block his back-tire.  Through the racing link in his visor, Bradley teased out.  "Not today, Jackass! I'm going to tear your ass up!"  Sean's heart skipped, watching Bradley jerk his bike up into a wheelie to bring his flaming tire within inches of his back.  Sean cut into the next turn, forcing Bradley to put his tire down to make the turn.  Bradley laughed over the com-link, asking him smugly.  "Feeling the heat, Mcloughlin?!"  Sean clenched his jaw and focused his eyes on the track.  Sean kept his speed up, heading for the ramp that was built to be a short cut to pass the muddy part of the track.  

He had to take it. His bike wasn't designed for muddy terrain.  Over the com-link, Bradley stated out to him.  "Out of my way, Mcloughlin!"  Sean's bike launched over the ramp and into the air.  The seconds passed like minutes as the bike fell through the air to land back on the pavement.  Sean knew this track by heart and knew the limits of his bike.  So, just after landing, Sean cut into the next turn sharp enough to give him some distance from Bradley.  Since Bradley's bike was built for impacts, it made his bike heavy and hard to handle after a jump.  While Sean's was built light enough to recover much faster.  Reviving the engine for more speed as the upcoming winding turns approached.  Sean smirked to himself.  He was starting to pull away from the crowd now.  This was the part of the track where his bike really excelled.  It played to his strengths perfectly.  Winding turns was his domain.  In his visor, he saw Bradley a few feet behind him.  Just as Sean was leaving a sharp turn, Bradley was going into it.  

Sean was pulling away farther and farther as his bike cut the sharp turns.  All he could hear was Bradley's distant cursing over the com-link.  The farther from Bradley he got, the weaker the com-link got between them.  After the winding turns, Sean leveled the back out and headed into the hologram track.  Here is where the impact bikes had an advantage.  On this track, holograms randomly appeared to cross the track or stand in the way.  If a bike hit a hologram, it would send out a pulse that sent a bike skidding.  The bigger the hologram, the bigger the pulse.  However, impact bikes were designed with a body that repelled the pulse.  This allowed them to drive through all the holograms without any of the effects.  Sean kept his eyes open for any moment.  His visor would alert him to an incoming object, but he was going so fast that he'd be on top of it before it went off.  He saw a few hologram women step out onto the track in bikini's to wave at him.  It really wasn't fair.  Half the men in the slums had never even seen a woman.  Women were rare and considered to be of extremely high value as pets.  So, there was no such thing as a slum dog woman.  

Clenching his jaw, he raced around them without incident.  You can't miss something you never had and he couldn't imagine himself with one.  They were almost a myth.  However, he had heard rumors from the Valkyrie guards that unwanted bastard pups are what filled the Slums.  Some slum dogs were even released male pets from Valhalla.  They claimed their masters simply got bored of them and let them go.  A sad fate that depressed them and most of them killed themselves before too long... or they were killed by 'true' slum dogs.  The Slums were not forgiving to Valhalla's pampered pets.  Sean winced as the hologram of a truck drive across the track.  Quickly flipping a switch on the handlebar of his bike, he watched the tires shift sideways as it activated the air pressure generated by the rims. Which made the bike appear to levitate across the pavement.  Sliding sideways under the low gap of the trailer bed, he kept his body as close to the ground as he could.  He did everything he could to keep himself from touching the hologram even a little.  Once he was past it, he flipped the switch back down to let the tires rotate back, yanking the handlebars back up to straighten the bike back out.  

Even as Bradley came crashing through the holograms, it was too little too late.  Sean had enough of a lead now that this race was his.  Keeping his lead throughout the other terrains, Sean waited until the last home stretch to use his plasma charges. Which ignited his tires in green flames and boosted him faster to whiz over the finish line.  Sparkler cannons went off on either side of the track as he passed them, lighting up the area in a bright golden light, compared to the dull grey colors around the track.  Sean slowed his bike, cruising back to the line as an unseen announcer told everyone watching in a strange cheery voice. "Congratulations, Racer Mcloughlin! That makes thirteen races undefeated. Your credits have been transferred. Enjoy your week. Until next time."  The announcer's speaker link clicked off and Sean pushed his visor up onto his head.  He had to rub his eyes as they adjusted from the green tint of his visor.  He felt good after a race like that.  People cheered, starting to climb down the stone stadium steps to congratulate him and the other racers.  A few people clapped him on the back, until Bradley's voice drew everyone's attention.  

Sean looked up just as Bradley shoved his way through the crowd to yell at him heatedly.  "The fucking race is rigged! I had you, Mcloughlin! There is no way your bike can be that fast! I bet you're using illegal parts in that piece of shit!"  Sean crossed his hands over his chest, stating out sternly.  "Blow it out your arse, Bradley. Don't blame me because you'd rather ram people off the course than race them."  The crowd chuckled in response, but Bradley growled out bitterly as he pointed an accusing finger at Sean.  "Mark my words, Mcloughlin! I'm going to be there when you're knocked down off that high horse of yours! Then I'll be sure they all see you for the filthy fuck you are! You're a cheat!"  Sean turned off his bike, lowering the kickstand as he relaxed to say to him casually.  "Calm down, man. I'm sure there is other ways you can make up the credits. For starters, you're a good blowhard for instance... So, why not blow a few guys down in Bedders row?"  A few of Sean's gang members laughed or made shocked faces at his comment.  They all jumped back though as Bradley stormed up to his bike to say in a cold voice.  "You think you're untouchable... but you're wrong. I've taken your shit for the last time. And when you least expect it... I'm gonna get you."  

Sean slowly rose off his bike to lock eyes with Bradley, coolly stating back.  "I'm counting on it. The day you go down is the day I seize control over all the Slums."  Bradley smirked ever so slightly, uttering under his breath.  "You just don't get it. This isn't about territory. You've made this personal and I'm going to take it out on your ass."  Sean grinned wickedly, purring out smugly.  "You'll have to get in line. Although, angry sex could be fun... How does fourth place ticket holder sound?"  Bradley turned on his heel to walk away and Sean called after him.  "Third place? Final offer."  Sean's men burst out into uproarious laughter, leaving Sean to grin proudly.  Sitting back down onto his bike, he reached out for Nate's hand.  Nate moved closer to take his hand and Sean pulled him closer to whisper into his ear.  "Get the Green Dragons back to the garage. We're going to stick it to the Red Cyclones tonight. We're taking their raid and shutting them down for good."  Nate nodded, releasing his hand.  Sean then kicked his kickstand up with his heel, turning on his bike as he loudly announced for everyone to hear.  "DRAGONS! TONIGHT, WE DRINK!"  

The Green Dragons let out loud cheers and teased the retreating Red Cyclones as they left.  Sean revived his engine loudly and took off through the stadium gates.  Heading out onto the main road, he sped through the streets to get back to his gangs' garage.  There were no Valkyries down in the Slums.  The only rules down here were the ones laid out by the gang leaders.  The only time the Valkyries took an interest in anything they did; was whenever one of them tried to drive up the white road to get to Valhalla.  No one ever made it past the gates.  Security was just too advanced compared to the Slums.  The only way into Valhalla was by going to a Trader in the Slums.  There he'd make arrangements to ship you up to the auction house to be sold as some rich pricks pet... If you were lucky to be bought.  Most were sent back.  No one wanted a wild, bastard Slum dog. Up there it was all about breeding papers.  Or so he had been told by rejected Slum Dogs.  No pedigree and you were a Slum Dog.  Sean slowed down as he approached one of the white roads that ramped up to the main road for the south gate.  It was so bright and beautiful.  

Coming to a stop, he stared up at the wall surrounding Valhalla and let out a heavy sigh.  He wondered if his mother was somewhere up there.  Was she a pet?  Had she been forced to toss him to the Slums?  Was she a noble that gave him up?  All he had was his name to go off from.  Otherwise, his only memories were of the orphanage in the Slums.  He longed to know what was so grand about Valhalla... but he wasn't going to give up his freedom to find out.  He was no ones pet.  He was his own person, and nothing would change that.  Noticing a security orb take sudden interest in him, he revived his engine and continued on his way.  The stupid orb followed him for a few blocks, before finally leaving him alone.  Pulling up into the garage, he parked his bike and headed up the steps to the second floor.  The second floor of the garage was done up like a living room.  It had large leather couches and dining tables.  Even a kitchen and a Bar.  There were even a few Dragon members already here.  Some were playing cards at the tables, while others were making-out on the couches.  Moving to the bar, Sean slipped up onto a stool and told the burly bartender.  "Tonight's round is on me."  

The man leaned forward to rest his tattooed arms on the bar, asking him smugly.  "Guess that means you won again. Fuck. Keep this up and the Valkyries will step in to slow your ass down."  Sean rolled his eyes, grumbling out.  "They don't give a rat's arse who wins the races."  The man shook his head, seriously telling him.  "You're wrong. Their job is to make the races entertaining. You keep winning like you have... They'll do something to end your streak. Trust me, I've seen it happen before. You think they aren't watching us, but they are. Closely."  Sean waved a dismissive hand in the man's direction, glancing back toward the couple making-out on one of the couches.  The guy on top was unzipping the other guys pants, wedging his hand inside to grope him heavily.  The man's pleasured moans filled the room and Sean swallowed with a slight longing.  The bartender noticed where his attention went and asked him coolly.  "You should pair yourself up with someone. Then you can spend hours fucking like them."  Sean snorted, grimly mumbling out.  "I don't need a partner. It's just more work to maintain... I have enough problems. I don't need to add someone else's shite to my list too."  

The bartender chuckled, teasing out.  "Wow. That bike must work you over good. All that vibrating it does between those scrawny legs of yours. No wonder you don't like getting off it."  Sean finally looked back at him to flip him off with a sarcastic look.  The man chuckled louder, cheering out.  "I knew it! That's why you don't need a partner. You got yourself a special bond between man and machine indeed. Damn!"  Sean rolled his eyes, dryly telling him.  "That's it, Dominic. You owe me a drink for that."  Dominic pulled out a beer from the mini fridge, popping the top of for him as he purred out.  "Gladly, my friend. Does your special lad downstairs need a cleaning?"  Sean took the beer, growling out under his breath.  "Keep it up. I'll make you clean every bike out in public... naked."  Dominic snorted, flexing his muscular arms as he retorted boldly.  "That's not a punishment when I have these guns."  Sean took a swig of his drink and rolled his eyes again.  By now the rest of his crew was arriving.  It was time to get serious.  To Be Continued...