S2, E5 | In the Name of Unity

“I allow the continuation of this gang warfare between the four of you because I believe it inspires aspirations to be better than the others” Caesar confesses, speaking to a circular table of almost every driver, “however, most of you seem to be too foolish to see the bigger picture here when the stratums open.”

Sitting in the corner of the room in a swivel chair, Pat sets his undivided attention upon the doctor whilst the rest of his former group remains seated at their usual spots, leaning against their tables or further into their chairs as the screen at the front of the room begins to play. “Would anyone care to tell me what they see in this video?” Caesar inquires, playing a feed from Tyson’s onboard camera as it passes alongside his bike through a set of corporation cars pulling apart.

“Butch’s son disobeying his orders” Dale answers in an unpleasant tone, side-eyeing the young man that proceeds to close his eyes and grit his teeth, reserving his temper and allowing the quip to pass. “No, what you see are the corporation’s cars pulling apart to allow Butch’s son as you call him to pass through” the scientist answers, refusing to acknowledge the slight passed toward the younger DSRC member, “they allowed him to pass because... in that moment, Tyson became a non-threat in the race.”

“And he stayed that way too” Dale responds, again digging at the temperament of his club’s younger member whilst the other groups watch on, the Crew’s eyes passing toward the group of bikers whilst Kaiyo eventually returns their glance toward their superior. “My point is that the corporation vehicles took notice that Tyson was no longer a threat to their mission of winning the race and no longer deemed him to be a threat” Caesar responds, again disregarding the slight paid by the DSRC leader.

“And my point is that Butch’s son disobeyed his orders and did absolutely no good in the process” Dale replies, speaking toward the scientist before setting his eyes upon the young man in question, “all that just to not even finish the race.” Angrily slamming the palms of his hands against the table, Tyson shoots out of his seat and looks toward the leader of the group, who stands up just as Butch does, the father attempting to keep the pair from growing hostile whilst Mark laughs from the other end.

“Dale, sit back down. Let’s not do this here” Butch calmly requests, pressing the back of his hand against the leader’s chest as the air grows quiet, gesturing for his son to do the same once it seems like Dale’s come under control once more. Remaining to himself in the corner, Pat maintains his blissful disconcern for the group he’d severed ties from whilst redirecting his eyes just as the other groups had, again placing focus upon the man at the front of the room.

“Dale and Butch remained ahead of the corporation, as did the Crew. The point that I’m making is that, to all of you... you’re unaffiliated with each other” Caesar remarks, standing in front of the monitor whilst it continues to loop the footage, “however, to the corporation... you’re all the same.”

“What if we stayed behind them the whole race until the end then?” Nolo inquires, leaning back in his seat with one foot lifted onto the table for leverage as he rests one arm behind his back, “do we suddenly stop being threats to them?” Shrugging his shoulders whilst puffing out his bottom lip, Caesar shakes his head in refusal and looks back toward the ground as his hands couple at his lap.

“If you stayed behind them for the whole race, they’d just take that as an opening to play defence against you” the scientist replies, his eyes suddenly widening as he comes up with a perfect analogy for the situation. “Think of it like a war. When it’s your turn to attack the team you want to beat, you take your turn on the offensive” Caesar proclaims with a slight-grin of pride, “once you’ve got the lead, you do whatever you must to prevent it from being taken from you.”

“When you say ‘whatever you must’, does that mean what I think it means?” Ronny inquires, pressing his elbow into the table as the scientist calmly answers him honestly. “I believe they’ve made attempts at killing you, or at least immobilising your vehicles, in the swamp, cavern, and warped stratums now” Caesar confesses, “if you’re worried about them actually killing you, I see little reason to believe they wouldn’t stoop to that level. Your remains would simply never be found after all.”

“This isn’t supposed to instil us with confidence, right?” Kurt questions aloud, his arms crossed deeply as he also settles into his chair, “you’re in the wrong business if you think this is a pep-talk.” With a smirk, Caesar bows his head and turns back toward the monitor, giving a nod toward Ellis before watching the picture change, displaying Mark’s dashcam instead as the corporation car that had involved itself in his race with Alec passes by him.

“Whilst I understand that you have the angel buttons, that doesn’t necessarily mean that something like this is incapable of bringing about your demise” Caesar admits, watching as the Crew member in timeout’s Firebird is shredded at the driver’s side by the robotic vehicle’s exterior. “Mark’s a skilled driver just as Alec is, so they were able to thwart this interference” the scientist explains as the video begins looping, returning his eyes toward the collective group, “nevertheless, they were one in the same to the corporation.”

“Why bother telling us any of this when the people that need to hear it the most aren’t here?” Taro inquires, prompting the Kaiyo members on the other side of the table to join with the DSRC in glancing toward the empty side of the room that the Esteemed leaves unoccupied. Without replying, Caesar looks toward the man who asks the question before turning away, returning toward the monitor and pressing the power button without a glance at the unattended end.

“Now that you’ve gotten comfortable with the stratums and understand how this works, I see no reason to continue losing to the corporation or our third party any longer” Caesar explains, looking back at the table as he ends the meeting, “we cannot afford to continue allowing the others opportunities that should go to us. These stratums need to be won and they need to be won by us.”

Taking the refusal to address his question as the signal that he will receive no reply, Taro lets out a sigh and sinks further into his seat, preparing to climb out of it as the meeting appears to reach its end. “That will be all until further notice, you may all leave aside from Tyson” Caesar remarks, catching the young man by surprise as the rest of his group is soon to follow a similar curiosity.

“Why?” Butch inquires, watching the scientist approach the front of the table whilst Kaiyo and the Crew dissipate, venturing off to their own activities whilst the DSRC lags behind. “Because I would like to talk with him about something in private” Caesar answers, refusing to offer the older gentleman an opportunity to refuse by gesturing his hand toward the young man in question, walking off toward the control centre with his requested visitor following.

“It has irritated me greatly to not address this with you sooner, but there have been other measures incredibly desirable of my time that needed to be addressed sooner” Caesar explains, allowing Ellis to close the door as Tyson tucks his hands into his pockets. “Am I in trouble for something?” the young man inquires, stiffening up slightly before his shoulder ease at the shaking of the scientist’s head.

“No, but I am incredibly curious to address your contact with our third friend” Caesar confesses, immediately seeing a slight lift of the young man’s brows at the topic, “what happened in the stratum?” Shrugging with a chuckle, Tyson looks around the room before retreating toward a chair, dragging it to the place in which he stood before lowering himself into it.

“I lifted up my hands, made it clear to them that I wasn’t intending to threaten them, and asked them to roll their window down” Tyson answers, crossing his arms whilst stretching both legs out, crossing his left over his right and tucking the top heel upon the inside of the other foot. “I told them that I didn’t mean to be a threat, but I wanted to know if they were dangers to the rest of us” the young man clarifies, speaking through the silence of intrigue that the scientist affords him with, “he didn’t answer.”

“You were overheard making mention of the angel button during your conversation” Ellis speaks up, standing behind the DSRC team member with his arms crossed, “why?” Looking over his shoulder at the man that stands above him watching on, Tyson thinks back to the conversation and speaks aloud. “He’d gestured toward one of the cars at the end of their convoy. I watched it blink out of existence just like we do when we hit our angel buttons” the young man answers to the surprise of both superiors, “he pointed toward the one on my bike and I asked him if he was suggesting that I use mine.”

“And that’s all?” Ellis inquires, asking the question that Caesar’s mind is too preoccupied to ask aloud, not even bothering to pay attention to the conversation at this point despite still staring at the biker. “Well, I told him that I would if he told me whether or not he was a threat to any of us” Tyson explains, watching the mechanic’s eyebrows lift in suspense as he quietly awaits an answer, “all he did after that was press his finger to his lips.”

Barely catching the last part of his claim, Caesar looks toward the biker for a moment with eyelids parted just slightly more than usual before suddenly ending the discussion. “Thank you, Tyson. You may go now” the scientist remarks, allowing the biker to exit the room he’d anticipated would take more than just a few answers to be freed from. As the door closes behind the driver, Ellis turns back toward his superior whilst the man ponders aloud.

“They have the technology to enter the stratums, the technology for the angel button, and what I’m sure is the warped stratum key” Caesar explains with a squint, “whether they have the technology to use it remains to be seen.” With the tilt of his head to the side, Ellis approaches his boss with a scrunch in his face. “What also remains to be seen is what other technology they have” the mechanic responds, letting his arms fall from the cross against his chest.

“Silence” Caesar whispers to himself, lifting the knuckle of his thumb to his bottom lip as he looks into the back of the room, pondering for an answer as if the gesture Tyson had received were something more similar to a puzzle, “what could that mean?” he asks aloud, unsure of where to begin looking.

= Driveline is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards =

Shunning himself from those beyond his garage, Alec stares at the logo in the middle of his steering wheel and keeps to himself, passing glances every now and then through the windshield at the lot beyond where all he can find are closed and locked doors. Simmering with aggravation that he feels is impossible to display and further than he already has, the group’s leader continues to endure the mental frustration that he refuses to free himself of.

Unnoticed in his approach until the knuckle of his index finger begins gently tapping against the passenger’s window, Eric captures his friend’s attention, stealing it away from the trance that allows time to pass like heartburn. “What are you still doing out here? It’s been like three hours, man” the visitor remarks, overhearing little more than a consistent sigh as the driver seat-occupying racer shakes his head at a loss.

“Because I don’t want to be here anymore” Alec replies, offering an answer that had already been made clear earlier in the day, “that doctor doesn’t own me... no one does. The fact that we can’t leave is bullshit.” Frowning as he looks toward the empty lot ahead, Eric reserves his thoughts for a moment whilst the air grows quiet, prompting the team’s leader to continue speaking in an effort to fill it.

“Who does he think he is, E? He’s not our dad, he’s not our boss” Alec continues, looking toward his friend whilst the man in the passenger’s seat continues staring ahead, “we’re not his employees. We don’t need to do what he says.” Puckering his lips, Eric leans his head to the side as he fights to urge to say what he wishes to, feeling the strength to reserve his comments slip further and further from reach with each passing second of hush.

“You do if you want to get home, man” the visitor finally concedes, looking toward the team’s leader as their eyes take toward each other. “Alec, you really have to take a good look at what’s going on here. We can’t leave this place unless he allows us to. We get to race, we get our ear talked off when we don’t win, we go to bed, we repeat the process” Eric explains, breaking down the situation for his displeased friend.

Shaking his head without replying, Alec stares ahead at the empty lot ahead and presses his tongue against his back molar tooth, allowing the passenger to continue speaking. “You’re gonna have to play nice with him somehow if we’re ever supposed to get out of this place” Eric explains, finally watching the swivel in the leader’s head begin to diminish, “we’re all gonna have to do what he wants. What other choice do we have? Just sit here and bore ourselves to death?”

“Whatever, E. You don’t even want to leave in the first place, I don’t know why I’m ever bothering to tell you any of this” Alec confesses, slightly defeated in his remark as the man one seat over from him lets his shoulders fall, aware of the discontent that his friend carries. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Alec” Eric admits, continuing to look at the man who refuses to offer eye contact with anything other than the logo on his steering wheel.

“Just leave me alone” the Esteemed’s leader remarks, voicing his lone wish before falling silent, offering nothing further as the air goes quiet again. Apologetic and sombre, Eric opts not to pile on the disagreement any further than he already has, stepping out of the vehicle and retreating for the clubhouse. On his lonesome, Alec allows the hush around him to persist as he closes his eyes, trying to lose sight of the garage and the second level that surrounds it as he presses the back of his head against his seat.

|

“What’s up, Eric?” Vert greets, passing the man as he strolls through the corridors that connect each clubhouse, fist-bumping the Esteemed driver as he passes. “How’s it going, Vert?” Eric replies, both leaving their answers off at ‘good’ and moving on with their days, allowing the Kaiyo driver to continue beyond the communal residence as he rubs at his eyes, wiping the exhaustion from his face whilst making for the cafeteria.

Dressed in only a pair of sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt that he’d cut the sleeves off of, Vert takes a moment to pause and refit his right foot into the slipper he’d carelessly shoved into the strap just as a jogging man emerges from within the distance. Keeping to himself and listening to the music that blares through his headphones, Nolo cuts through the second level at the end of his jog in an effort of returning to the clubhouse, surprising his lower-ranking teammate.

“Why the hell are you awake so early?” Vert inquires in a semi-groggy tone, shielding his face as he fights a losing battle at preventing a yawn. “Because I’m a grown man that needs to work out in order to stay in shape” Nolo responds with a grin, slowing his jog until he comes to a stop shortly ahead of his fellow driver. “That still doesn’t explain why you need to do it so early” the younger Kaiyo racer reiterates, earning a widening of the leader’s smile as the older man pats him on the back.

“Good morning, Vert” Nolo concludes, walking past the younger man in search of the Kaiyo clubhouse, allowing his teammate to carry on with his morning before again being brought to a stop. “You too?” Vert wonders aloud, watching a shirtless Kurt venture around the same corner that their superior had journeyed less than a minute before.

“Gotta get that blood flowing, Vert” Kurt replies with a grin, his baggy shorts bouncing off his quads as the man passes his teammate. “That still doesn’t explain why you have to do it so damn early!” Vert proclaims with hands thrown out at either side, prompting the team’s second in command to laugh. Lifting one finger to his lips, the older Wayland sibling gestures for his friend to keep the volume of his voice to a minimum before continuing to jog toward his home.

“Jesus, that smells nice” Vert remarks, his eyes widening slightly as he journeys through the cafeteria’s doors, his nose catching the strongest whiff of freshly cooked eggs, sausage, bacon and hash browns. Smiling at the pure joy that the thought of food brings about him, the Kaiyo driver carries on with his approach toward breakfast before taking a glance into the commons area, finding only one table occupied.

“Where’s everyone else?” Vert inquires, his entry having gone unnoticed by the man who gleefully scoops one spoonful of peppered eggs into his mouth. Without a verbal reply, Ronny shrugs without certainty before carrying on with his early morning meal, allowing the opposing driver to carry on with placing his order.

“Want some company?” Vert questions aloud as he finally receives his tray, not needing to wait longer than a minute and a half to take his order of nearly everything the cooks had to display. “Help yourself” Ronny responds, jutting his chin toward the unoccupied side of the metal picnic table-like bench.

“How’s it going, Monkey?” Kaiyo’s driver proceeds to wonder aloud, putting a smile on the face of the man that quickly covers his mouth, not wanting to spill the food that he chews into a fine paste. “It could be worse, Vert. How about you?” the Crew’s mechanic responds, prompting the friendly driver of the rival faction to lower the coffee he carefully sips from.

“I don’t really know. Things have been pretty even-keel for the last little bit” Vert confesses, sliding the side of his fork into a mound of scrambled eggs, “I’d like to get a win one of these days, though.” Nodding along with the man’s comments, Ronny finishes chewing before attempting to reply, doing so with his hand still covering his mouth just slightly.

“I think your friend, Nolo, would like to win one too. Finally get that monkey off his back, y’know?” Ronny questions back, amusing the man across from him, who points his metal fork toward the mechanic. “Haha. Monkey... I see what you did there” Vert responds, confusing the mechanic for a moment in his amusement before the man who’d accidentally made the joke catches on, chuckling beneath his breath before the Kaiyo leader begins speaking again.

“He would’ve won in the swamp had those assholes not blown up the end of the track” Vert remarks, validating the leader’s place with his defence, “most of those other times could just be boiled down to bad luck.” Leaning his head to the side, Ronny digs his fork into the centre of a sausage whilst Vert scoops a pile of hash browns onto his fork, “he’s still been good enough to get to the end consistently. Most of the rest of us can’t say that.”

“He’s a great racer. He’s a great dude, too” Vert remarks, covering his mouth with the back of his hand whilst he speaks and chews. “All of you are. Kurt Wayland included” Ronny concedes, unphased by the idea of admitting such rivalry-distorting truths, “Mark would hate me for saying it, but I don’t mind any of you. I’m pretty sure you’re the only group here that I can more than tolerate.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Monkey” Vert assures, again bringing a smile to the man’s face with the use of his preferred name, “Eric’s the only guy in the other groups... Well, maybe Pat and Tyson too, we’re not really sure yet... But there aren’t many in the other groups that we like personally.”

Nodding in agreement, Ronny finishes off the pile of his scrambled eggs whilst the rival driver carries on speaking, clarifying lines that had never truly been blurred. “Kaiyo and Crew don’t mind each other personally for the most part, we just hate how the others race” Vert remarks, another helping of hash browns scooped onto his utensil, “I’m pretty sure that now, since we’re having to co-exist with the bikers and the preppies, we’re starting to become a little more appreciative of each other by comparison.”

“You’re not gonna find me disagreeing with you on that” Ronny replies, reaching for his own cup of orange juice, “but then again, I think we’re gonna have to start looking past our personal dislike for the others too over time.” From one side to the other slowly, as if he were amidst consideration, “what do you mean?” Vert asks as if open to the idea, but wanting to hear the reasoning for it.

“As much as this Caesar guy irks me from time to time, I think we all see how hard it is to argue the point he was making yesterday” Ronny confesses, addressing what had become too easy not to, “we’re gonna have to start at least tolerating each other before people start getting hurt.” Falling toward his food, Vert’s eyes carry with his shoulders in displeasure at the thought of their passion proving to be a danger, though that risk is one that he knows posits possibility.

“There’s nothing stopping those maniac robots from running us off the road and getting us out of the way completely. Who would ever find out?” Ronny questions back, the thought itself prompting the spirits of the Kaiyo driver to lower slightly, “we’re all the same to them. Four unified groups of four that can’t tolerate each other probably isn’t as strong as one group of sixteen that can at least get along when it matters.”

“You’re right” Vert assures, finding the branch that the rival driver offers and taking it when given the chance, nodding in agreement as he stares into the distance, “to be honest, I don’t even know where the hell anyone would even start to make that happen.”

Going quiet for a moment, Ronny uses the quiet of the room empty of sound from anything other than the banging of pots and pans in the kitchen to think to himself, squinting as an idea comes to mind. “There is this one thing that might help” the Crew’s mechanic confesses, prompting the Kaiyo driver to look up with intrigue at the pause that proceeds.

“Caesar says he doesn’t know who this third group in the races are. Neither do any of us, but the fact that they didn’t just run that biker guy, Tyson, off the road says they’re at least not remorseless like the corporation” Ronny explains, speaking to a captivated audience of one. “Yeah, but it’s not like coming together, climbing out of our cars in the next race and having a cup of coffee with them is possible” Vert responds, amusing the man across from him.

“True, but we don’t need to go that far in order to get something to bring back home” Ronny responds, again pausing to take a swig of his breakfast beverage, “all we need to do is make contact with them beyond just what that kid got in the last race.” With slight reservations, Vert allows his eyes to trail off as doubts attempt to fill his head, “how would that get all of us to start getting on the same page?” he wonders aloud.

“Well, it might not do anything like that, but it’s at least worth a shot” Ronny remarks, quickly attempting to redirect the conversation from the unity of their groups and toward the lack of answers they own. “We don’t know anything about these third guys. If I’m being honest, I’ve got a lot of suspicion in this Caesar guy now that I know he doesn’t either” the Crew’s mechanic confesses, “I think a lot of us would want answers about these other guys we’ve got to share the races with.”

“How do you suggest we do that then?” Vert inquires, prompting the mechanic to lean back in his seat and shrug, honestly not having thought that far into the plan. “I’m not sure yet, but I did give the idea of breaking off from the Crew in the next stratum some thought” Ronny explains, picking up a packet of maple syrup into his hand and pouring it upon a stack of flapjacks he’d yet to get to, “I figured that if Tyson could have a chat with them, maybe I could too.”

“Doing something like that might require a little bit of backup” Vert responds, prompting the rival mechanic to look at the man that suggests forming a union of at least temporary cohesion. “You don’t think it would start shit between our teams, do you?” Ronny inquires, prompting the younger member of the opposing faction to chuckle.

“Monkey, our teams have one Wayland each. Shit between our teams never stopped in the first place” Vert replies, taking ownership of his cup as steam pipes out of the top, holding it in the air for the driver across from him to assess. With a surprised, yet enthusiastic expression worn, Ronny gives the Kaiyo youngster a bob of his head before grabbing his cup of juice, gently allowing the plastic shells of their cups to collide in agreement.

Carrying on with their breakfast, the pair begin plotting their strategy to maximise their potential in the next race. “So what’s the plan?” Vert inquires, taking a sip of his coffee whilst the rival mechanic takes a swig of his juice, ready to hear out their next course of action.

== Driveline ==