Horsepower #2

After the reporters stop applauding you are directed towards the stage, while the unicorn with the clipboard from earlier stands up at the podium and looks down at the assembled press. “It was an intense Trottingham Derby, and one of our most exciting to date. We hope this will become a new standard for what you can hope to see, and we’re happy to announce that our security measures were a total success, bringing us up to the Haymaker Circuit standards. We only suffered minimal injuries, the very worst we got was a broken leg from a particularly nasty roll. Of course, you’re not here to listen to me talk, so without further ado, here’s your Trottingham Derby 17 AR Champion…” She pulls up the clipboard and scans it briefly. “... Comet Streak!”

There’s another round of clapping as you stand up at the podium and give them all a wide smile. Public speaking isn’t your specialty per se, but you’ve got a kind of personality where you don’t mind just talking, so this isn’t nightmare status like it would be for Lug Nut. “Thanks everyone, it’s been a really great experience, and I’m not just saying that because I won.” That gets a round of polite laughter, so you pause before continuing. “This isn’t just my victory, my mechanic Lug Nut was the one who put the car together after all.” You gesture over to the Earth mare.

Lug Nut is standing off to the side of you, behind the podium and very content to languish in obscurity until you mention her. Panic quickly begins to spread over her as you mention her. Her first instinct is clearly to hide, but a light gets shined on her real briefly and you realize that you did make what’s essentially her worst nightmare come to life. She tries to make the best of it, though, and gives a painfully awkward smile and wave to the crowd before the spotlight mercifully moves back to you.

You look back at her for just a bit longer to make sure she’s going to recover. You’re not entirely certain that hiding behind a potted plant is the best answer but it would almost certainly cause an even bigger scene to try and drag her out into the open. She can have her panic attack for now. You look over at the reporters, who are equal parts perplexed and amused by the sight. “Uh. Any questions?”

There’s a flurry of hooves, claws, and paws waving in the air jostling to be first. It’s a bit disorienting and your eyes take a second to adjust as you try and sort out which one to ask. Eventually, you just point at random. “Uh. Diamond Dog. Third row.”

“Yes!” the creature says in a high-pitched, rasping tone. “The Daily Gem! How does pony feel being first to win Trottingham Derby with no more than two ponies? Pony.”

Your brain takes a second to parse the question, and another to build a response before you smile as best you can without terrifying the herbivores in the crowd. “It felt awesome! Like I could do it again… well, maybe if I had another car anyway. But it’s a testament to the power of friendship, corny as that sounds. ‘Stick by your friends’ is my takeaway here, and I’m just glad I have one as good as Lug Nut.”

There’s an ‘awww’ from the crowd, and a brief pause as the recorders scratch out their notes, but the flurry of limbs quickly returns to pose questions.

“Fast Times in Canterlot,” the next reporter asks. “There’s little doubt that you’re heading for the Haymaker next, especially with a showing like this. Can you confirm this, and do you have plans to expand your crew for the event?”

You look back at Lug Nut with a grin, and she shakes her head no. Your grin only gets wider, though, and you turn back to the microphone. “You bet your flank we’re going to the Haymaker!” you triumphantly declare, and Lug Nut’s groan of anguish is loud enough that you can hear it over the scratching of reporters furiously taking down your remarks. “That was the plan from day one and this just makes me one hundred percent certain I can pull this off.” You thump your fist against the podium to exaggerate this. “As for rounding out our team, we’re gonna think about it, but it’s a pretty big move and it’ll take agreement from both of us. We made it this far on synergy, y’know? Can’t screw that one up. Uh, one last question. The emerald crystal pony, near the back.”

“That’s Green Arrow of the Crystal Empire Times, the BEST publication in Equestria,” the stallion confidently announces. “What makes you the GREATEST racer there is? And, I suppose it makes sense to ask if you have any significant weaknesses, too.”

“Well, I guess my cars catching fire is a pretty big weakness,” you say with a smile, and get a brief burst of laughter. “But in all honesty, not focusing on the whole safety thing has always been a bit of a weak point… But hey, I’ve put the blood, sweat, and feathers into being the best. I’m just a great driver. Don’t even need weapons to win! Uh. Maybe. I’m probably gonna try a few out.”

The questions start to pop up again almost immediately afterwards but the organizer mare sees that you’re just about done with the Q&A and steps forward to take your place as you back away, thanking the reporters and wrapping things up while you grab Lug Nut and slip away.

Outside of the designated public areas, it’s strikingly quiet. It’s late evening, with sunset just starting to color the sky. All around you ponies are taking down the stands, cleaning up trash, and dismantling various pieces of equipment fairly efficiently. There’s a certainly beauty to the skillful undoing of the racing event but you’re not quite composed enough to appreciate it. The adrenaline from the race has been wearing off slowly for the past fifteen minutes and with it gone you’re beginning to feel pretty tuckered out. This doesn’t escape Lug Nut’s notice and she helps direct you through the cobblestone streets and brick buildings towards the hotel the two of you were put up in for the race, a quaint little cottage-like bed and breakfast.

There’s a bit of hubbub as the two or three race teams other than your own mill about the lobby. A couple of them are talking about the race amongst and within themselves while one of the teams is going through check out, either eager to get out of town or having another commitment they need to get to. Instead of an uproar of applause as you slip into the cozy house there’s a few quiet nods of recognition. Vastly preferable anyway now that you’ve got a headache starting to spring up. After nodding vaguely back you let Lug Nut lead you up to the room the two of you are sharing. As yet more proof that you were the dark horse you were given the attic room, still comfortable but more out of the way.

Just fine for two mares who needed a place to crash more than anything. You had spent most of the night before flying above the track, getting the lay of the land and finding the right headspace for the race while Lug Nut was doing her special technique: TEN THOUSAND CHECK-UPS. The fact that she was willing to work so hard to get you into the race made you feel a little guilty about wrecking the car… but not enough to make you regret doing what you do to in order to win.  Besides, the prize money was made entirely so that you guys could build a really kickass car and pay the exorbitant fees to enter the Haymaker.

You collapse onto the nearer of the two beds and sigh with relief as your slightly battered body gets a chance to relax, grabbing the pillow and putting it over your eyes to block out any extraneous light and sound. Now is the time for nap. Lug Nut seems to disagree. Within seconds, she’s poking at your cheek intently. You hold out for as long as you can but she’s always been vastly more patient than you and you eventually groan and pull the pillow off of your face. You roll over to face her and grunt questioningly.

“We weren’t gonna tell anyone we were planning to enter the Haymaker,” she protested.

“But we were gonna,” you say with a lazy yawn.

“But we said-”

“C’mooooooon,” you say. “They were gonna figure it out eventually, and everyone there pretty much knew already anyway. What’s to worry about?”

“Well…” Her face screwed up at the thought. “Now we’ve just hyped ourselves up really big and what if we do a bad job? Then we’ll look stupid and then I’ll-”

You’ve been her friend long enough to know where this is going. To respond, you extend a single pointer claw and poke her snoot, booping her until she scrunches. “Nutty, we’re gonna do AWESOME,” you assure her.

She starts to protest, but you shake your head. “Awesome,” you repeat as emphatically as your sleepy tone will allow.

She sighs, but nods. “Okay. But that means I need to get to work on our car right away. Did you decide which of the classes you wanted to be in?”

You groan and turn over in your bed. “Tomorrow,” you mumble. “I’m passing out over her.” That lasts about a second before she starts to jab you in the sides again.

“No!” She says emphatically. “I’m gonna start sketching it out today. You gotta tell me which one you want!”

You look over at her with a glower. But, she does have a point. And it is  something you’ve been thinking a lot about. You take a second to try and remember which of the three classes you were hoping to drive.

A speedster would be your most basic car. A metal frame attached to an engine and a couple of add-ons. They’re good at going fast… and that was about it. Lug Nut had the most experience with these ones, but they were also the most difficult from an engineering perspective, since there was so little fluff all the time when into just tuning, tuning, tuning.

Cruisers were the next stage up, and they were a bit more robust. Compared to the one-pony crew that speedsters had, a cruiser was designed to be run by three. Consequently, they could fit more junk onto it, like weapons or accessories. An extra booster or turret was usually something nice to have, but cruisers also weren’t as fast as speedsters. They won by endurance: survive attacks, beat out speedsters when they got damaged, and outpace their opponents.

Finally, you had tankers, big-ass trucks with a five-pony crew. Newcomers onto the scene, but quickly carving out a niche for themselves. While they were still pretty fast compared to civilian vehicles, they absolutely paled in comparison to speedsters and cruisers. They made up for it in a couple of ways: one was that they just did not stop for anything, and the other was that they were terrifying offensive forces. With plenty of accessory and weapon options, they tended to break their opponents before they outsped them.

What kind of vehicle were you thinking of? Anything else to ask Lug Nut about?