Once we`d found our seats, having weaved our way through what seemed like thousands of mini-markets and various pre-race attractions, we began chatting about what lay ahead. Each of us had our own favourite racer, and mine was certainly Pascale Rouser, Auricom`s cool but cute flying ace. To me, the other seven teams just didn`t have the same sense of style.

The first race, following tradition, is based at our home town in Florion Heights, so we took the opportunity to come and see the races. After this, the season would continue over 6 more locations, each featuring a wide array of different courses, but we wouldn`t be able to afford to follow the league that far. Instead, we`d watch it at home, though that was nearly as good these days.

The protective shielding only 30 feet from us was deceptively strong. Going on appearence it looked like a decent blast from the many weapons employed by the racers could take out the audience completely, but these shields had been tested to the extreme. Still, it`d be a massive shock to see missiles impacting against the surface!

Moments later, our chatter was halted, and similarly, people around us began to quiten down. An announcement had begun, and the race was about to start. In the distance, near the start line, we could see the craft being transported to the surface, though at this distance, it was hard to tell who was who. Shortly, the music began, and this was something world famous. In every race, a song from the Wipeout sound track would be played, and today, for the opener, it was Papua New Guinea, from Future Sound of London - one of my favourites out of the selection.

The deep computerised voice of the starter thundered over the speakers "Ready...". There was a pause, and nobody in the race or the audience, was even going to breath until the start. "Go!!" came the powerful tones of the starter, and within a split second, all 16 racers lurched forwards, and began jostling for position. The weapon pick ups and speed boosts had been initiated, and before long you could see and hear, the loud explosions, tearing apart the slow starters.

Seconds later, the racers passed us by. Unsurprisingly, only 14 were left at this stage, the other two had ejected and were being picked up by the safety vehicles already. Now it was time to watch the computer displays as the race progressed around the far reaches of the course. To my dismay, Pascale was only in 5th place, but there was still time...

After a few minutes, we could hear the craft approaching again, but this was suddenly drowned out by a deafening thunder clap as a quake disruptor (one of the more spectacular weapons) brushed past the shield, causing it to glow red, and shimmer. Everyone jumped and leaned back, but soon realised the shield had it under control. As I watched, I realised that Pascale had fired this, and it had enabled her to reach second place. "Keep going Pascale" I shouted, though I new she couldn`t hear me.

Near the end now, Pascale was side by side with Daniel Johnson of Feisar, and joint for the lead. People were on their feet, cheering, shouting, and letting the music guide their emotions. A loud explosion, audible even in our position, was the result of Pascale firing a rocket to decide the race. She powered ahead of her rival... and roared over the finish line.