"You got a fair amount of carbon scoring on the right mitt from that last hit, but slag is tough to bust up," Trixie May scraped at the limb with a rasp she had gotten from the workbench.
"What'll that do to another Beater?" Junior asked, again at work on the area around the phoenix emblem, using coarse sandpaper to scratch away at the chipped paint.
"Who knows?" Dank was going over performance graphs and verifying heat signatures, "I do know runnin' this Beater on beer is doin' long term damage to the internals."
"What does that mean?" Junior stopped sanding.
"It means we need a higher octane of booze, Junior." Trixie May set down the rasp, "The alcohol needs to burn cleaner. Don't you worry. Daddy has good connections." She winked.
Dank looked up, "Junior, I think what this old girl needs is a name," he said, patting the sheet metal shin guard.
"That's the truth, Junior," Trixie May added, "You can't expect to beat Bessy in some no name Beater."
Junior thought for a moment. He'd always planned to choose a name later, like just before his first tournament match. However, even given the exhibition standing of his upcoming confrontation with Big Roy, he stood a chance, however slight, of bumping Bessy out of the running for the season. That would automatically grant him the right to compete officially.
He drew a blank.
"How about 'The Steel Magnolia'," Dank suggested.
Junior and Trixie May stared at him until he grew uncomfortable.
"I love that data file," He defended, "Sometimes a feller just needs a good cry, you know?"
Junior, for the good of their friendship, had decided that he'd never heard Dank say that.
"Smasher" seemed boring. "De-constructor" was taken. While naming the Beater "Trixie May" could be seen as a compliment, he'd hate even more to have Bessy smash the crap out of a Beater named for such a nice and, in fact, downright amazing girl.
Chapter Seven Interlude
File: Datanet Core Server Theta Delta Delta Three Hundred and Sixty-nine, Galactic Current Events, Era: Modern -0, Index Earth Prime Protection Force, Energy Management, Data Compiled by Press Release
A glorious new era begins for the Faithful citizens of the Benevolent States United, and it is an era of energy availability previously unknown in the history of humankind.
With thanks to the dedicated men and women of the Benevolent States United Science Corp, a small task force composed of highly decorated members of the Earth Prime Protection Force has left Earth Prime orbit in order to gather quantities of Be-esunium ore from uninhabited deep space. This ore will be used to store and release clean, pure and silent energy to residences across the face of Earth Prime.
Devices using Be-esunium will ensure that the Faithful will enjoy uninterrupted power at all times at a fraction of the cost to the Benevolent States United.
When asked why the Earth Prime Protection Force had sent a number of mechanized defense suits along with the single freighter into well-documented uninhabited space, EPPF sources replied with a gracious and benevolent, "No comment."
Junior completed sanding the tiny area and stood up straight as though stunned.
"Firebird." He pronounced.
"What?" asked Dank.
"This Beater is 'Firebird,'" Junior clarified.
"That's nice, but you better work on rubbin' the dents outta that emblem," Trixie May grinned.
Junior set to work on that while Dank fine-tuned the electrical system and Trixie May adjusted the coolant lines.
Gradually, the lines of the bird began to clarify. Lacking gold-flecked paint, Junior did the touch ups with safety red.
The thick smell of paint already filling the workshop prompted Trixie May and Dank to join in, laying thick lay coats of matte black on every part of the Beater except the hood, which got five layers of clear glossy paint to protect the bird in the center, which even Junior admitted stood out like a target right over the pilot's chair.
"We may want to weld a steel bar right behind the bird," he offered, and Dank replied by eyeballing and cutting a two inch thick length of rebar.
Under the blue acetylene glow of the arc welder, Firebird seemed to finally take life.
As the paint dried, the three walked into the bar for a drink and a break. Fortunately, for some reason the bar was mostly deserted.
Away from the low drone of the shipping workers in a corner, Dank, Trixie May and Junior stole away to a booth in the back, having filled mugs already from the tap on the way in.
Over the low foamy heads of beer, they discussed strategy.
"You need to keep her away from Bessy as much as possible," Dank offered, "Get in quick, hit her, and get outta the way."
"Use the enhanced strength," Trixie May suggested, "When you get in close, put the squeeze on her joints and disable them as soon as possible."
"I jus' hope I don't get killed," Junior drained his mug in one extended gulp.
Dank scoffed, "You won't get killed, Junior. Ain't no one actually died in a sanctioned fight since before we was born."
"Well, if Big Roy beats us again I don't see how we can even keep livin' here in Impact."
"What are you talkin' about?" Dank grinned, "I'll be just fine!"
"If you beat him, you'll have to pack up and ship out for Pleasant Station anyway," Trixie May reminded them, "That's where all the tournaments are anyway."
Cold anxiety suddenly gripped Junior. Win or lose, he'd be leaving Impact soon, maybe forever.
He'd never been more than a dozen clicks from the perimeter wall in his life. Neither had Dank.
They'd get eaten alive in the more refined Pleasant Station.
"I don't know nothin' about city life, Trixie May," Junior was beginning to sweat in spite of the cool EcoHope 11 evening.
"Don't you worry about it," she tussled his hair, "I'll be there to take care of you." Her glance turned to Dank, "You, too, Dank." Her smile seemed genuine.
"I thought you'd come home to stay?" Junior asked.
"Hell, no Junior! I'm just here visitin' Daddy before I set up shop in the city."
Junior was not too surprised to discover just how happy this news made him.
