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Sette's worry for Disel was the last piece. Not that the super hadn't figured it out before, but now she was sure just how much Cosette like this guy. Oh the taunting that was going to take place, once things were settled down of course. "You should listen to your friend hotshot, hurt anything else and you'll start to be as bad off as that female racer."

Well, now that things were actually interesting, Liam was glad that he had ventured out on his day off. Just where were they heading anyways? Back to tha apartments? Thinking about it, Liam was pretty sure that the famous racer and his partner lived in the same apartments as they did. They were apartments that attracted the famous and discreet.

Nash maneuvered them along dimly lit corridors, all secret back entrances known only intimately by the garage hands and racing crews. The Racers themselves had very little reason to go anywhere not strictly in view of other crews or the fans. Nash had to bend over slightly, as the ceilings here were low and the walls narrow. He always felt a little claustrophobic.

Diesel blinked as they emerged into a sun-drenched back lot. He recognized their transport ship, Beckoner, and several others of crews he was familiar with and realized that this must be a storage lot for the teams' larger vessels.

Somewhere behind them they heard a shout, and several slams. It was obvious that the Garage Head had discovered the mess.

Nash shrugged, jolting Diesel into a grunt of surprised pain. "You can stay and evade them on your own, or let us drop you off somewhere. We're leaving either way." Despite Diesel's soft string of curses, Nash ignored him and helped him to find his own footing as he put him down.

Diesel was thoroughly tired of being treated like baggage, and glared at Nash. Usually, it was Diesel's responsibility to put in the codes activating Beckoner's ramp system. Nash had let him save enough energy to do that much. Diesel tapped out a quick sequence of numbers into the com-pad, resulting in a flash of compressed air and heavy metal clanging as the ramp descended into view.

"You can stay or go," Diesel said shortly, "Just make up your minds quickly." Being caught by an irate Garage Head was not the badge on his career that he wanted.

Diesel watched them walk away with his eyes narrowed. They were awfully sure of themselves for people who had obviously not spent as much time around a track as he and Nash have. He knew there was something peculiar about the way they felt too. It was something strange, like they were sucking all the air and light from the room and absorbing it into themselves.

Well, whatever their problem was, he couldn't be detracted with it now. "Throw that junk out. I won't need it." Diesel ascended the ramp and disappeared around the corner of the interior passageway.

Nash quickly looked over his shoulder, noticing shadows forming along the garage spillway. The staff were coming quickly, and they needed to be off. He started the motion to chuck the bottle in a nearby trash basket only to stop and shove it in his vest pocket instead. If Diesel wanted to be a child about accepting help, then Nash would treat him like one.

The Beckoner was in low orbit before the Garage hands appeared into the brightly lit landing courtyard. Diesel had powered up the engines quickly before handing the controls to Nash and stomping off to his quarters. He promptly passed out cold, leaving his Alien friend to pilot them to a safe distance.