"That's correct, but you're missing the nuance behind that term." Raider watched the rider work. "In our language, that name has negative connotations. Simply put, it's considered an insult. It's another word for mongrel or mutt. Often called a mixed breed or someone who is unfriendly and aggressive."
Wren considered him. "Why would an elite force take such a name?"
"It's a reminder."
"Of what?" Amila asked.
"Kira built a family out of people others considered the dregs of society. When she gave us that name, it was so we would remember that no matter how others saw us, what was important was how we saw ourselves. She took something that should have been bad and made it a name to be respected. Curs are fighters. We're the junkyard dogs of the Consortium. Vicious and loyal only to our own. We decide how we win or lose. No one else."
From what Graydon knew of Kira and Raider, the description fit.
"Apt," Wren said.
"You think so?" Raider tilted his head at the racer. "I always thought that name suited Kira best."
*
Finished with the repairs, Kira slapped the panel into place and straightened.
"You're running out of time. The leaders of the pack will clear the first third of the race in less than two minutes."
"What are you talking about? That's plenty of time." Kira hopped onto her board, grinning at its throaty purr when she activated the engines. Its rumble felt a lot like home after a long absence.
"Much better," she said to herself.
She lifted her head. "Locate targets."
On her ocular interface, small squares appeared, little arrows above them. The squares were spread throughout almost a mile of the course, the leaders tightly clumped together with the pursuing pack a little less uniform. The racers framed by the squares were little more than fast-moving specs at this distance.
"Let's get started then." Kira tucked her hands into her pockets as she zoomed forward. Her stance was easy and relaxed as the board slowly picked up speed. It was only when she approached the first obstacle that she got serious.
Commonly referred to as the rhythm section, it was a group of continuous jumps. Many waveboard runners used it as an opportunity to show off, executing flips and twists that did little more than add time to their run.
Kira hit the first jump and held her stance, soaring over the second and third to save time. She hit the final jump and kept it short, heading into the berm without a hitch in speed or positioning.
"Good. There are three more berms coming up, each shorter than the last. Stay low and to the outside," Jin advised.
Kira adjusted her balance, swaying left then right then left again as she followed the twists and turns.
She came out of the final turn fast, the next jump appearing before her in a blink.
"Incoming fire."
Kira flipped, rotating her body to move the board from its original position. Heat flashed past her, narrowly avoiding her.
Jin whistled. "Close, close, close."
Kira came out of the flip as the lasers lit the air up beside her.
"You’re still operating in the green," Odin informed her.
A good thing. Had any of the lasers scored a direct hit, she would have taken damage and a reduction in the number of points she could get for the event.
The lasers were designed to simulate battle conditions. Because what was more fun than a race? A race where you could get knocked out of it at any moment, of course.
"The Haldeel sure like their fireworks," Odin said.
"The Haldeel didn’t create this course." Kira entered a tunnel. Her ocular implant switched one eye to night vision.
