Mitchell's Revenge

Snatch sat at his desk staring at the hard copy printouts in front of him. It was the first run of the events listing for the intergalactic ballroom dancing championship. He found it was the easiest way to manage the information until they’d worked out the complete running order. Then it would be digitised and made available to all the competitors and their support teams.

Registrations were still coming in. They closed in another six weeks. There were currently four and a half thousand dancers registered over the five days of the championship. Snatch was struggling with the organisation of such a large event. He’d never done anything like it before and soon realised he was going to need help. The major events were few and far between.

In the months since he took on the role of arena manager he’d arranged a couple of small weddings and a fundraising event for Covington Military Hospital. Those had only a few hundred participants, not the thousands involved in this one.

Once he realised he could not do it alone, he spoke with Natasha, who quickly secured the services of a specialist ballroom dancing championship event manager by the name of Sonny Riccardo. Sonny had arrived on Tiberion just over a week ago. Long enough for Snatch to figure out that although incredibly knowledgeable, he was very difficult to deal with.

Sonny was a prima donna of the first order. He was a temperamental, detail oriented perfectionist. His suits were beautifully tailored, and he always wore a flower on the lapel. His shoes were polished to such a shine that he could see his own face reflected in the leather if he bothered to look down. His white blond hair curled gently at his collar and his ice blue eyes sparkled with intelligence. Snatch thought him totally pretentious.

Sonny was most comfortable dealing with ballroom dancing coaches and studio owners, not former pirates who were used to bending or breaking the rules. After a couple of screaming matches over how to do things, Snatch decided the best way to deal with him was to act in a support role, and let Sonny have the run of the championship.

Snatch decided it was best to focus on the big picture, to concentrate on the arena and the associated technical issues for the event. By the end of the week he had left the running order and management of registrations to Sonny. Sonny was in his element, prancing in and out of Snatch’s office at all hours of the day.

This morning he had dumped the hard copy print outs on Snatch’s desk and flounced out again without a word. At the time Snatch shook his head in dismay.

“Sonny!” he yelled after him. Sonny paused in the hallway. “You need to explain this to me. I can’t make head or tail of it.”

He sauntered back in to Snatch’s office, muttering under his breath. “She asked me to work with a moron. Why did she ask me to work with a moron?”

“I heard that,” said Snatch. “I am not a moron. I have simply never worked on anything like this before. A little patience would go a long way!”

Sonny spread his hands in front of him. “Alright, alright. This is how it works.”

An hour or so later Snatch had a good understanding of what the printouts meant. He could see that they would have to allocate space away from the dance floor for marshalling the dancers prior to their event. Then they’d need clear space for them to walk out on to the floor. They’d need a practice/warm up floor somewhere near the marshalling area.

Change rooms would need to be allocated, along with storage, hanging racks, mirrors and bathroom facilities. They’d need some masseurs, a physio and a doctor available. They’d need food and drink for the competitors. They’d need separate rooms for the adjudicators, with their own changing facilities and food and drink.

After the final round of ice hockey, the ice rink would be disassembled and stored out of the way. A large dance floor would be laid and checked for smoothness and size. Arrangements would be made for sponsors and advertising within the arena.

They’d have to decide how the program was to be presented to make it easy for the audience to follow along, and for the competitors to find their events. The common language was international English, although Sonny suggested some interpreters might be useful. They’d need to decide how recalls were handled for each round of each event.

Lighting, sound and music would have to be planned. Security was the other concern. He knew that all the Orlov family, except for Anton, were attending. Snatch understood that Yuri would bring his own security personnel. He’d heard from Natasha that the Captain of the Zond and his engineer would be competing in the pylon race off the U.S.E. shipyard, so the Orlov family protection would be down to two.

Snatch felt that his head would explode. This was huge. So many thousands of competitors and so many rounds of events made it a real challenge. The arena would be full to the brim. He wondered how Tiberion would accommodate everyone and whether there would be enough docking bays and moorings for the incoming ships.

Natasha assured him that there would be a rolling attendance, with competitors coming in for their events and then leaving as soon as they had competed. There was always another championship to travel on to so they rarely stayed long.

The pylon race competitors were another concern. Snatch expected them to make a side trip to the moon once their race was finished. It was exactly the sort of place a competition pilot would want to visit to let off steam afterwards.

They expected the betting kiosks to be frantic with business for both the ballroom dancing championship and the pylon race. This was the activity that Natasha was most concerned about. A lot of money was about to change hands. She was concentrating on securing currency handling systems and the personnel to manage them.

Snatch ran his hands through his hair and rubbed his scalp. At least Sonny had explained everything to him. The championship would be here before they knew it. Time was running out. He had a lot of work to do.