"Mr. Grant and Ms. Val would like us to repeat Stadhaven's strategy, Ms. Val in particular. She said it worked well for you guys then, and it might do the same on a standard track like Hungaro," Colt, the head of the engineering department team that came with Ms. Val, said to Luca and Ansel.
Luca and Ansel were in the locker room, suiting up in their training Veststars for the day's drills and sessions. Colt stood between them as Luca adjusted his gloves, while Ansel sat tightening his racing boots.
Ansel's mind was racing, mulling over their proposed strategy. It's not like he disliked the Dual Advance Strategy, where the driver at midfield tends to be more aggressive than the one at the lead so as to create a stable competitive atmosphere. The problem for Ansel was that the positions were reversed, and unlike before where Luca was usually the one who fended off rivals for him, it'd be the opposite on Saturday. And now, they'd need to train for it.
He sighed, grabbing his balaclava. While head socks weren't necessary for training, wearing one always helped him sharpen his focus and maintain control. "No words on secondaries? Alts?" he asked Colt.
"Nope, not at all," Colt replied. "Luca starts at pole, you at P4. The delta's not much when compared to two other positions with a three margin difference. But stakes get higher as you move upfront, so we can't really rely on substrats for formations and all that. Hope you get it?"
Luca picked up his helmet with his right hand, flexing his left as he glanced at Ansel. He wasn't sure if Ansel chose not to respond or if the balaclava muffled his words. "Sure, we'll try our best to adapt well," Luca said, taking a deep breath.
Colt nodded, staying rooted to the spot with Luca as they waited for Ansel to finish suiting up. Once Ansel rose to his feet and grabbed his helmet, they turned toward the door. Colt resumed speaking.
"Don't sweat it, fam. At least now, we have the comfort of strategizing before the race, thanks to the grid being set by Stadhaven's results," he said, leading the way through the door. "For the rest of the season, we'll have qualifying sessions."
Colt was right. Throughout the first half of the season—primarily from the 2nd to 6th rounds—all grid positions were determined by the results of the last featured race. This included the upcoming 7th round. However, the 1st round and the remaining 8th to 12th rounds would use qualifying sessions, like the Sprint Race or similar activities, to set the grid positions.
Luca studied Colt as he spoke, noticing his constant use of the word "we." Usually, it would be McCauley giving him and Ansel this briefing, but Luca sensed Colt had been directed to do it, likely to foster a closer relationship with Ms. Vallotton's group. After all, they were all Trampos Racing now.
The three of them stepped out of the main building, passing the training center's wardens seated by the side as they emerged. Individuals clad in red occupied a section of the track, engaged in animated conversations, with McCauley at the center of the discussion.
The cars were parked at the edge, positioned over the striped curbs near the telemetry room. Luca, Colt, and Ansel navigated through the well-maintained greenery to approach the machines, where Mr. Moritz stood alongside Ms. Vallotton.
As Luca and Ansel neared the cars, the team caught sight of them and moved closer. "Good noon, gentlemen," Moritz exclaimed in his typical upbeat demeanor. "I trust Mr. Colt here has briefed you on what we'll be focusing on?"
"He sure has," Ansel replied.
Without saying a word, Ms. Vallotton turned and walked toward the telemetry room, where Mr. Grant stood looking down from the viewing post. Her arms were folded, and her posture remained composed and authoritative.
"Metric laps will come first for good measure," Colt explained, his glasses giving him a more professional look that made Moritz's seem almost casual. "We'll gather data on driving patterns and car performance. From here, we'll analyze strengths and areas for improvement before moving into the main activity. How long shall this take?"
"Twenty minutes," Moritz replied swiftly.
Luca and Ansel nodded in agreement. The timeframe seemed reasonable.
Colt acknowledged this with a mutter, flipping through the stack of papers he held. "And then," he continued, "we'll have DA drills with Haas and Victor, incorporating some timed pit stops to keep us sharp."
Ansel frowned behind his balaclava. "No cornering practices? No formation runs?" he asked, impatience creeping into his tone.
Colt shook his head slowly, scanning the file again. "Hungaro doesn't feature sharp chicanes or bottlenecks. The turns are relatively navigable. And with Luca at the pole, practicing formations isn't a priority since you both might not be close during the race. We need to dedicate more time to training Luca on maintaining P1 and refining your aggressive passing. We'll have mock drills to polish defensive and offensive coordination."
"It's nice to have someone who can explain things so well for y'all," Moritz sneered, clapping his hands. He gestured to the team crew behind Luca, pointing toward the two single-seaters where Haas and Victor were hanging out. "You heard em. Go make final checks. Let's begin."
Luca and Ansel donned their helmets, securing the straps tightly as they headed toward the cars.
[Vehicle Specifications:
Engine Type: Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit (SomberCore)
[Performance Metrics:
Top Speed: 300 km/h (0 km/h)
Acceleration: 3.5 sec
Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]
Telemetry Status: Active
DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]
"Get two more out here before they're done in 20!" Moritz shouted from the telemetry room he had just entered.
[SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]
[SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]
[Host is now synched with Dallara (F2 04)]
The insides of his helmet had never smelled better. Luca took a deep breath, steadying himself as he brought the SomberCore engine to life. He was so accustomed to this B-level engine now that he often wondered how he'd adapt to the more demanding ones in F1.
Luca glanced in his rearview mirror. Ansel's car was just behind, positioned neatly.
The comm crackled to life, snapping Luca out of his brief reverie. **This track is quite long for a training center, folks. Which is a good thing. We can imitate high-pressure race conditions like we're really in one**
The radio went silent for a second, likely due to Moritz switching transmitters. Then, another voice came through. **Alright, Luca**
Luca's brows arched instantly. That wasn't Moritz's voice—it was Ms. Vallotton.
**Clean exits, good patterns, optimal performance. We keep making such results, it becomes permanent. You understand?**
"Yes, I do," Luca replied confidently.