Young Writers Society

The rain, again.

These were the words that echoed in Galnet’s head like a magic chant as he contemplated it from a high platform.
It was quite a sight, for him, something never to get used to. Rain drops appeared seemingly out of nowhere, falling down towards Castally Cavern. It was charming how the rain splashed on the ground like a simple melody, then gathered as puddles of water, which added another melody to it. Well, okay – sometimes, it got loud and scary, but… the rain had different moods, and that one was just fine. Mild, tame, and just enough to tickle Galnet’s dark skin with every drop, yet not enough to bother him. He let out a peaceful sigh and nodded to himself, smiling excitedly. Now was the perfect time to explore at last.

******

Castally Cavern was one of the Ninety-Nine known Caverns of Slugterra, a subterranean world, and the only reality for those who inhabit it. There were fairytales of the Burning World above, an infinitely large cavern with a gigantic ball of fire at its center, but few believed the stories. In any case, Galnet, one of the many kids of the White Castle Orphanage, had others things to worry about — and more visible horizons to expand. He was one of the many children of the orphanage to be heavily affected by the sometimes strange climate of the cavern, usually staying inside the orphanage. He was often sick, distracting himself with cartoons in the television room, or both. But finally, he had been allowed to go out by himself for a full day, and he wasn’t going to waste such an opportunity.
With the refreshing rain by his side, Galnet began his hunt for information. There was a reason why “Slugterra” had its name, after all, and it was because of the presence of slugs: tiny creatures not bigger than a man’s fist, but with a variety of abilities. Humanoid species had lived with them for centuries, and at the young age of six, Galnet was only just discovering the many activities that others had with them.
The first activity he saw in abundance was the slug rallies. Thanks to foreign donations to the Orphanage, many of the children living in it managed to get their hands on some sort of controller device with buttons and a joystick, as well as a Slug capsule equipped with wheels and an antenna, making it look like a car.

“What’s a slug capsule?” Galnet asked as he joined the group of kids to watch them play.

“It’s that blue cylinder thing!” one of the kids answered, pointing at said cylinder, inside of which resided a lively-looking blue-colored slug. “I heard that slugslingers use those like ammo. Y’know, to shoot slugs!”

“Oh, yeah!” Galnet exclaimed, nodding. “I know about that.” Galnet was usually among the last children to stay late at the television room and watch episodes of The Slug Spinners of Necrofear, a horror-themed comedy cartoon show that staged two clumsy protagonists against armies of slugslingers and their blasters. “So, here they protect slugs when their cars bump into each other, right?”

“Yeah! It’s so fun.”

Galnet grinned. It certainly looked fun. The children had set up a racetrack around the playground and used their controllers to guide their slugs through it. The slugs were all of different colors and forms, but they all had something in common: wild smiles and eyes glittering with joy.

“So, how can I play?” Galnet asked, a little louder. “I don’t know the rules of this game, at all!”

It took quite some time for Galnet’s request to be met, as the kids had organized turns (supervised by the two adults that had provided the toys and slugs) to allow everyone some time to play. Eventually, it was Galnet’s turn and, controller in hand, he learned all the basics, everything that would allow him to drive well. His slug, a pale green colored one apparently called a “Flopper”, didn’t seem to have any ability of its own, so, Galnet had to rely solely on his driving to survive the race. Stirring, drifting, accelerating, using the brakes at the right moment, dodging enemy fire (as the other kids let their Slugs use their ability to disrupt the driving of the other racers, unless they had Floppers like him), Galnet had to suffer through every step of the game to properly learn it – but luckily, he had understood enough to almost win the many races he participated in, and all that with a Flopper – which, apparently, was some sort of achievement.

Either way, Galnet had explored enough of the slug rally, and ended up wandering elsewhere in the cavern. He discovered a lake disturbed by the never-ending rain – lake by which other kids from the orphanage played yet another game with slugs; – one that Galnet knew nothing about.

“Hi!” Galnet saluted as he arrived. “Is this a game? What are you doing?”

“We’re playing sling practice!” one of the kids replied, turning back to look at Galnet.

“Oh. Is this slugslinging, then?” he asked, eager to know how it worked.

“Nah! Real slingers use blasters and awesome slugs to shoot each other! We just have these.” The child raised her arm: she was holding a slingshot in her left hand.

“Oh, okay!” Galnet exclaimed. He gazed at the other children. “So… you’re trying to shoot the Slugs across the lake, right?”

“Yeah! They swim pretty well, so, they come back just fine. Except Floppers.”

Galnet frowned, remembering the wonderful time he had with his Flopper back at the slug rally. “What’s wrong with Floppers?” he asked, confused.

“Well, they’re useless, everyone knows that! We’re not even sure they can swim, so we’re not using them.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind trying! Is there a slingshot left?”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “You sure? We’ve only got Floppers left, if you wanna shoot slugs.”

Galnet offered a bright smile. “That’s fine! I want to see if they can swim.”

Floppers, could, in fact, swim back to their slinger just fine. Although, they did seem noticeably more distracted than some of the other slugs, so they had a tendency to come back to him at a slow pace. In the meantime, Galnet asked about sluglinging, with both slingshots and those “blasters” that adult used. He learned that the blasters were elaborate guns that fired slugs from slug capsules, instead of directly shooting them with a slingshot. Amazingly, a slug’s speed-induced form was called a “Velocimorph”, and it could only reach that form if it flew fast enough.

“So, then, what’s the small form called?” Galnet inquired, awed before the knowledgeable playing companions he had found.

“I think it was, um… Proto...form? There’s a book about that, back at the orphanage. You can always go read it!”

Galnet furiously nodded. Oh, he was certainly going to do so. Eventually, he managed to get the hang of his slingshot, and nobody seemed to mind him using his three Floppers anymore. He had gotten used to them, so when he left the lake and thanked the boys and girls for teaching him so much, he didn’t initially realize that the three Floppers he had patiently waited for every time they swam back to him climbed on his shoulders to stay – nobody cared, after all, and he wasn’t going to complain.

Next, Galnet found himself wandering around the junkyard of Castally cavern. He had heard of it, of course. And, in fact, he knew already that most Caverns had one. It was a place in which old tools that had stopped functioning, and were abandoned in huge piles of rusty, indistinguishable metallic things.

“Wow.” Galnet whispered to himself. The three Floppers – one of which had decided to stand atop Galnet’s head – gasped along, impressed by the almost tower-sized pile of junk that appeared in their sight. Several, much smaller ones spread across their area, as if they were natural trees that owned the space they had been abandoned to.
Galnet felt movement on left shoulder. Looking at it, he noticed his Flopper jumping around, and pointing its stubby arm somewhere in the direction of the highest junk pile. Frowning, Galnet looked in the direction, and his eyes widened: he witnessed several people riding down the junk pile with what looked to be metallic planks, gaining speed as they did so until they reached the ground. Galnet carefully approached a duo of them as they chatted enthusiastically about something. They were much bigger than Galnet, which led him to believe that they were teenagers. They also wore a very similar getup: a plain shirt with a guitar-shaped symbol on it, one orange, the other blue, with blue jeans and sandals. He witnessed one of them hand over a Slug to the other, while the other laughed out loud, putting a friendly hand on his friend’s shoulder. Eventually, they both turned back, gazing at Galnet with curious eyes.

“What’s up, kid?” the one with the orange shirt began in a neutral tone. He had a pale white skin, small, almond-shaped black eyes and short blond hair. The other one’s skin was tanned, and had round green eyes that silently looked at Galnet. He had a similar spiky short haircut as his friend.

“Hi!” Galnet greeted. “Uh, nothing! I’m just… walking. It’s the first time I’ve been to the Junkyard. And also the first time I’ve seen… this.”

“Oh, right.” The two teenagers shared a glance and a smile – mocking or playful, Galnet wasn’t sure. “Yeah, that’s worm-riding. We call it that ‘cause we’re using dead crystal worm scales to ride down the junk piles. We’re not sure why they’re here, though, but there’s a lot of them in the Junkyard.”

“Oh, okay!” Galnet exclaimed. “Why do you do that?”

“‘Cause it’s fun.”

Galnet grinned. He was beginning to think that that was the best reason to do anything. “It looks fun! But… Isn’t it a bit dangerous?”

“Well yeah, that’s why not everybody does it.” the teenager shrugged.

“And that’s also why we have these.” his friend with the blue shirt said, pointing at his elbows and knees. He was wearing some sort of armored bracelets for his knees and elbows, and his legs and forearms were equipped with similar armor pieces that served as protection.

“Oh, okay.” Galnet frowned. “What are those?”

“Protective pads.”

“Right. And how does worm-riding works?”

“We climb up the junk piles, over there,” the teenager explained, “and then, we take our Worm boards and go down for a ride. Here’s the thing, though: it’s a lot easier to do that in the rain, ‘cause the junk piles are slippery. If they aren’t, there’s more chance that some metal parts are gonna ruin the ride for us. It rains all the time in Castally, though, so, we can do it pretty often.”

Galnet nodded once more. “That sounds fun! Can I watch?”

The pair shared a gaze once more, accompanied with a giggle. “Yep, you can, kid!” one of them exclaimed. “But on one condition.”

“Okay…?”

The teenager with the orange shirt pointed at the highest junk pile. “If you can climb up there! Without our help. Then you can watch.”

Galnet blinked. “That doesn’t sound like a condition. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do if I want to watch in the first place?”

“Smart kid! What’s your name?”

“Galnet! Yours?”

“Alexander. Alex will do.”

“Why not Xander?”

Alexander frowned. “...Because nobody does that.”

“Some do!” Galnet countered. “I’ve got some people at the Orphanage that call me Little Net, or just Net. Why would they call me Gal, if I’m a boy?”

Alexander and his friend laughed at the unexpected remark, and even more when they realized that Galnet was, in fact, very very serious. “Okay, you’re funny.” Alexander commented. “I’m letting you call me Xander if you let me call you Net. We prefer nicknames in this place, anyway.”

Galnet’s grin appeared again. “Deal! Can I go climb now?”

“Yes.”

Galnet pointed an accusing finger at Xander. “Don’t mock me if I fall!”

“We are definitely mocking you when you fall.”

“That’s mean!”

“It’s also fun.”

“I…!” Galnet sighed. “I guess.” Feeling much less excited, Galnet studied the junk pile. It was rather big, and as Xander had specified, it was bound to be slippery. Several chirps resounded next to Galnet’s ears, and he felt the Floppers jump atop his head. Galnet smiled. Well, if he was to be ridiculed, at least he’d have his Slugs to cheer him up.

******

“Well, sure took you long enough!”

Galnet froze in place. He turned back, only to witness Xander staring down at him, a huge grin plastered across his face.

“I...” Galnet began. “But you… When did...” Galnet frowned, dropped on the ground and sat with his arms and legs crossed, glaring at Xander with exasperation. “Explain things to me.”

Xander laughed. “Okay, okay! I’ll… explain things. Ladder’s not here because he climbed ahead of me – seeing you try gave him the ‘itch’ again.”

“Ladder? Your friend, right?”

“Yeah! Calls himself that, everybody calls him that, too. He, uh, likes climbing. Then, while you were having trouble, I just got to the other side and climbed up. Because I’m used to this, and well, not you.”

“Hey! I’m not used to it yet!”

“Oh? You wanna climb again?”

“Not now! But I haven’t been out much, recently.” Galnet shrugged. “Or… At all, in general, so I just… I just want to enjoy things.”

Xander gave a curious look to Galnet. “Why didn’t you go out before?”

“I was sick, most of the time, so, I couldn’t do much.”

“Oh. Well, no worries! You can enjoy things, here. Look!” Xander pointed enthusiastically at a point over yonder. Galnet followed the finger, then his eyes widened. He slowly rose back, contemplating the sight.

It was as if he stood atop an observation tower. Below him, he could see the full extent of the Junkyard, as well as the many, many junk piles that were smaller than the one he currently stood in, but from which several Worm-riders could be seen. They either chatted atop the piles, or raced down towards the bottom. All the piles led to the same place: a tiny isle of unmarked, brown soft soil, on which a pole-sized purple flag had been planted. As the music of the rain continued to play, Galnet realized that he had stopped breathing. He inhaled slowly and shook his head, incredulous.
This was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He was young, of course – and there would be other things to see, but… The vision of the Junkyard, this forest of metal before him was something he wished to carve into his mind forever.

“Pretty cool, right?” Xander commented, watching the look of awe on Galnet’s face.

“No, it’s the best thing ever.” Galnet replied. “You’re gonna race?”

“We don’t just race, you know. We have bet races, too! Basically, we bet Slugs that we have and race with them in our hands. The winner of the race keeps his Slug, and gets the Slug of the loser. We also trade ‘em, or if you don’t wanna bet, you can just race for the fun of it. We’ve got referees, too!”

“Referees?” Galnet repeated. “I don’t know that word yet.”

“Oh, uh… A person that, like… watches the race to make sure that nobody cheated. Or, you know how you’re super focused when you run?”

“Yes?”

“Well, it’s not always easy to tell if you went faster than someone right next you, or–”

“Ooooh! I get it!” Galnet interrupted. “So, the referee is the person that watches for everyone and points who wins or loses, right?”

“Yeah! Pretty much. Well, there’s usually a referee at the end of the race, and a riding referee that checks if everyone’s following the track right.”

“Awesome! Can I be that?”

Xander raised an eyebrow. “Sure! You don’t wanna race yet?”

“Well, you have to learn if you have to watch others, right? I just have my Floppers to bet right now, and people told me they weren’t really valuable.”

“No, no they’re not. Why d’you even have them?”

“Oh, they decided to stick around.” Galnet shrugged. “I don’t really mind, though! I have a lot of fun with them.”

“Hmm… Got a favorite?”

“Uh...” Galnet frowned. He held out his hands, and all three Floppers jumped in them, staring at him with their big, round eyes, chirping with glee. “I can’t… I can’t tell them apart, actually.”

“Well, you can always give them accessories later. There’s a lot of abandoned stuff here, so, you can find ‘em!”

“Okay! So… Where do I find a worm scale?”

“I’ll show ya! We’ve got plenty of those left.”

During the following hours, Galnet found himself learning more and more about the importance, the fun, the joy in observing instead of acting.
He was introduced to the world of worm-riding, and had to choose a crystal worm scale based on a reserve that the riders had amassed. From there, Xander taught him the basics, and eventually found Ladder to race with him. Left alone, Galnet was free to explore the Junkyard. He asked questions here and there, and was given the equipment required to protect his arms and legs, just like Xander’s pads. Once ready, he began to slide down junk piles, from the smallest ones to the bigger ones. From time to time, he found racers willing to use him as referee for their bets, and sometimes, even for their trades. He was more than happy to oblige, becoming increasingly eager to learn how everything worked.
Galnet learned, for instance, to move away from the races instead of closer to them while riding alongside them, as it was easier for him to estimate which one would arrive first. After all, the other referee posted at the bottom of the Junkyards could easily tell which one would arrive first from up close. He also learned that many racers would try to negotiate the referee’s decision or contest it, sometimes leading to fights – so, the referees usually knew how to defend themselves, how to talk the racers down before they even thought of contesting anything, or how to immediately start trading with them. It took some time for Galnet to understand that it was essentially like giving them some consolation prizes, to distract them from their loss.
It was absolutely fascinating to him how intricate the world of worm-racing was, compared to everything else he had seen so far. Even the Slugs seemed in on it: they acted very eagerly when in the hands of certain losing players, but weren’t as enthusiastic when traded away to any other racer. And the referees, oh, how wonderful they were! They held the keys to everything about that world and required riding skill, understanding and the right words to perform well. Galnet had suffered from a lot of falls, before properly becoming one himself, but he had grown to expect it, after some time.

“Okay, done with this ride,” said Plank, the girl that had partnered with Galnet. She wore a tight green jacket above a purple tank top, as well as pants full of fang-like yellow zippers – though the pants themselves were green. She also had black pigtails that fell down her shoulders, as well as a black hood that rested around her neck. She didn’t pull it on, as the rain didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. As she turned back, a light green slug with a dark green face and a foam green stomach made itself visible on her shoulder. From what Galnet remembered learning recently, it was a Lariat Slug, and the one that Plank always had with her.

“So, how did I do?” Galnet asked, eager to hear her reply.

“Not too shabby, Net.” Plank said to him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Problem is, most riders here won’t take ya seriously, ‘cause you’re a kid and all that. I think you’d be better off sticking to being a riding referee.”

“Oh. Is it easier?”

“No, Net, but they ignore you more easily.”

Galnet frowned. “Um… I don’t understand.”

“If you’re ignored, you’re left alone. And if you’re left alone, nobody’s gonna pick a fight with you. Trust me, it’s better if I get the final decision.”

“Well… I like riding better, anyway.”

Plank raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Then why did you talk?”

“Because I didn’t understand.”

Plank once again ruffled Galnet’s hair. “You’re a riot, Net, but you’re trying too hard.” she simply said. “Don’t understand – just trust.”

“But… I can’t trust something if I don’t get it!”

“If you get something, Net, you’re gonna show it. That will make you stand out.”

“What’s wrong with standing out?”

“It makes you a target. You told me you did target practice before coming here, right? Well, you don’t want to be a target for anyone.”

Galnet imagined himself as a standing white and red target, with people shooting various slugs at him with slingshots. That would be terrible. But then, his eyes lit up. “What if I was a moving target?” he exclaimed. “Then I could stand out and try to get things, right?”

“Again, Net.” Plank said, shrugging nonchalantly. “You’re trying too hard.”

“But… But...”

“Shut it, already. Don’t you have Slugs to get?”

Galnet blinked, genuine surprise appearing in his eyes. “Wait, didn’t you just..? So you think I’m ready for my first bet race, after all?”

“No, but you’re better than when you’re started. Most worm-riders aren’t here anymore, though, since it’s getting late — that’s why maybe you can try something. If you hurry, you can find someone who wouldn’t mind betting against one, two or three Floppers.”

“I have a few targets.” Galnet giggled. “I’ll go see if I can find one. See you after my race!”

“Good ride, Net.”

There was yet another thing Galnet had learned from observing the world of Worm racing: a Slug that nobody knew was a worthless Slug, especially if there was no clear way to understand its abilities. Some were ready to bet them away against anything, as an excuse to sharpen their skills, or trade away extra Floppers to trick newcomers into trading away valuable slugs against them. It was something done especially well if said Floppers were equipped with Slug-sized pads that didn’t do anything save for fancy decoration. It was quite easy to spot Slugs that would fit the standard for “uselessness”, as Galnet simply had to look for Slugs that nobody else had – such as, presently, the brown one with a sandy yellow color from below its eyes to the rest of its belly, and blue antennae atop its head. It was held by a worm-rider that Galnet hadn’t yet seen in the junkyard.

“Oh, hello!” Galnet greeted. “Is that a new Slug?”

The boy turned his pale head towards Galnet, looking down at him with curious eyes. “Uh, yeah. Know what it is? Because I don’t think it does anything. I found it on the beach, a few days ago.”

Galnet smiled cheerfully. It was time to be distracting. “‘Now is the time for a man of conviction! The world needs a hero – and I am that guy’!”

“...Huh?”

“It’s a quote! I watched a movie, before coming here. The Bad Sundays, with Max Jackson! He was using one those Slugs. D’you know what a Forgesmelter is?”

“Huh… No. Is that what that is?”

“No, but it’s related! A Forgesmelter is a very rare Slug that shoots lava. And it can melt Smolten – hardest metal in all of Slugterra! The one you have is a Volcapod.” Galnet confidently walked closer, threw a quick “can I?” then took the Slug in his hands, observing it with care. He had to find something else to say, and quickly. “See the blue spheres on his back?” Galnet continued, pointing at said blue spheres. “Normally, a Forgesmelter has holes there, and it shoots lava from that. This guy, though? It shoots small bullets instead. They’re pretty hot, but they’re useless in the rain. You can’t use it without a proper blaster – and even then, you’d really have to aim like a champ.”

“Wow… How d’you know so much about that Slug, kid?”

Galnet shrugged nonchalantly. “I read it in a book! And I saw a lot of Slugs in action, too. Max Jackson is a great actor, but I think I prefer documentaries, sometimes.”

“Oh, okay. So… I can’t use this thing, then?”

“Well not if you wanna worm-ride! It’s best to do that in the rain, so, you can’t really rely on this little guy if you stay in the junkyard.”

“Ugh, this sucks.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. But I’m a bit of a collector! Wanna race? It won’t be for much, but I can always bet you my Floppers against your little guy, if you’re okay with that!” First rule that Galnet had understood of made-up names: to never repeat a piece of made-up information any more than necessary. The less they remember it, the least likely they are to keep it in mind and verify it later.

“Floppers? I mean, that thing gotta be more useful than Floppers. They’re the most useless thing of all time!”

Galnet frowned. “Thirnav, come here.” the Flopper atop his head leaped forward and landed in his hand. “This is Thirnav, brother to Dunav and Unav. And you know what? They have no spines. So, if you want to do this...” Galnet promptly stretched Thirnav in his hands, before making a knot Plank had taught him that made it look as if he had handcuffed himself. “...You can.” he continued, ignoring the surprised stare of the credulous client in front of him. “It gets better! The rain makes them super sticky. So, the only real way to remove them from this position is if you’re their owner, and if you say: please.” upon hearing the last word, Thirnav gasped, and his body rapidly took its original size, with the poor Flopper falling on the ground below, visibly dizzy. Galnet quickly caught it in his hands again, gazing at the boy in front of him. “You can make any shape you want with their bodies, and they actually work in the rain.”

“I want that!” the other boy exclaimed, pointing at Thirnav. “Can I trade it?”

“I’d prefer a bet race!” Galnet smiled once more. “Well, if that’s okay with you!”

It didn’t take long for the race to be set up. The boy had been easily convinced, and though Galnet was exulting, but was quick to regain his focus. He let his Floppers hide in his clothes as the two climbed up the highest junk pile – except for Thirnav, as he was the one to be kept in his hand during the duration of the bet race. Similarly, Galnet’s opponent was to hold his own Slug in his hand.

“Oh, hey, Net!”

Surprised to recognize the voice, Galnet looked up only to realize that it was Xander. “Oh, Xander! Hi! You’re the riding referee?”

“Yeah. I know this spot the most, so, might as well.” he shrugged. “Not my favorite part of being a worm-rider, to be honest, but I’m curious to see how good you got in a few hours,” Xander smirked. “You’ve mostly stayed here watching people ride in the rain from a distance, instead of racing yourself. You sure that’s gonna help?”

Galnet grinned excitedly. “That sounds so cool! It’s like a title from a cartoon! Net, the Watcher in the Rain! Or, just… Watcher in the Rain.” he giggled. “‘In this episode, Net was to take part in his first bet race!’”

Xander chortled. “That’s not… Wow, you don’t stress easily. You should get ready, though.”

“Oh, right.” Galnet hurried towards his opponent’s position. He then placed his board on the ground, taking a few seconds to contemplate it. It was a slim, grayish blue diamond-shaped plate. It was large enough for Galnet’s feet, and had been customized with black straps, to make sure that a rider wouldn’t fall off the board.

“Are you both ready?” Xander suddenly asked.

Galnet and his opponent bent their knees, ready to ride.

“Then go!”

Both worm-riders sprung off, beginning their increasingly fast descent down the junk pile. As the debris, mud, dust and other components of said junk pile sped past Galnet’s advance, memories of all the races he had seen began to assault his mind.
A simple strategy was required, and it was speed. Galnet bent his knees even more, as if he was crouching on his board. He easily gained speed, going straight for the bottom. Then, his memory informed him of the problem: too much speed gave him an edge, but he could easily fall or become unable to slow down. He suddenly changed direction, dodging a broken vehicle’s rather large handle. Taking a big turn on his right, he gradually lost speed, then zigzagged his way down. Behind him, his opponent had seen the movement, and used the opportunity to gain speed as well, moving straight towards Plank’s position, at the bottom of the Junkyard. Unfortunately, Galnet had slid too far away from the main track to avoid the speed loss. His eyes widened as he watched his opponent get past him, but pursued him all the same.
The boy in front of Galnet made a slight change of direction to avoid another handle – it came from a mecha beast, these animal-shaped rides used by slugslingers. But that particular one was rather small, and had been abandoned in its entirety.
So, Galnet crouched completely, leaped, and squashed the ground below him, right before the handle. He had specifically crushed the snout of the mechanical beast, which made the rest of its dog-like body spring up from the ground. The other boy gasped, suddenly making a sharp turn to avoid the obstacle. However, the racing grounds accumulated a larger amount of rain water, and had a tendency to become more slippery, and more likely to lose its balance – which, unfortunately, was why the sharp turn caused the boy to fall below ground. Meanwhile, Galnet came out of his own ditch, hastily beginning the race again. He quickly passed his opponent and rode towards the bottom, gaining speed to avoid falling. Seconds later, he raised his hand in the air and tapped it against Plank’s opened palm, stopped his board after finally reaching the bottom. Galnet had won the race.

“YEAH!” Galnet exclaimed. “I did it!”

“Good job, Little Net.” Plank congratulated, ruffling his hair. “You sure pick up things easily, huh?”

Galnet giggled happily. “Thank you! I try!”

Xander soon appeared, stopping his board as well. He stared at Galnet with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “That… That was the dirtiest win ever.” he gazed at Plank. “Did you teach him that?”

“Nope. Just told him to take notice of the field and the rain.”

“Jeez, it’s like you want people to get hurt.”

“Hey, Plank had nothing to do with it!” Galnet interrupted, frowning. “I watched a lot of races, you know! A lot of people did the, uh...” Galnet’s frown deepened, ad he gazed back at Plank. “Oh. They called that trick: Walking the plank.”

Plank smirked with a discreet hint of pride. “I just showed them the trick. Not my fault if mecha beasts can be stepped on all over the darn place to throw people off, and all that.”

“No, but I mean – why does it have that name?”

“Because, Net, my nickname is in it. Also, have you ever watched pirate stuff?”

“Um… No? What’s a pirate?”

Plank stared at Galnet with passionate eyes. “You and I need to talk, Little Net.”

“Can you give me a Flopper, first?”

“Consolation prize?”

“Just to make sure he forgets me.” Galnet whispered.

“Mm. Sure, if it’s you. Just this once, though. You pay me back next time.” and then, Plank did the thing that Galnet had grown fascinated by. She snapped her fingers, and waited. From one of the zippered pockets on her pants came a Flopper slug. It then jumped on her hand, and she gave it to Galnet. To him, it was like an amazing magic trick – every time she snapped her fingers, a new Slug came out from one of her pockets, and it was always the one she needed.
One day, Galnet hoped to learn how to perform a similar move.
Either way, Galnet hurriedly ran towards his opponent and presented the Flopper to him. Then, the boy gave him his Slug and left, leaving Galnet to stare at his new companion. The Slug stared back, visibly curious.

“Oh, hey.” Plank commented, approaching to see Galnet’s new possession. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I’ve seen that that one before, Xander added. “You sure you want it? Nobody knows what it does.”

“It’s okay!” Galnet replied, eyes glued on his new partner. “I can figure it out!”

“Uh, no you won’t.” Xander objected. “You need to be a Slinger, to fire it.”

Galnet turned back. His smile turned eager, wider, and his eyes widened in excited anticipation. “I think I have an idea for that!”