When Zurth returned to the Hidden Beks' base, he was greeted by rousing cheers. Gadon Thek shook his hand and gripped his shoulder, saying something to him that was lost in the roar of those nearby. Carth looked relieved and Mission hugged him tightly, relieved that he was okay. Even Zaalbar looked pleased, barking out that he was relieved that Zurth was okay. When the roars of jubilation had died down, Gadon said, "They're installing the accelerator as we speak. The race in only a few days away. I suggest you get more comfortable with those things so that you don't have to worry about doing so during the race. The Vulkars and other gangs have some very good swoop pilots so you will need all the practice you can get."
Zurth nodded. "Well after something to eat, I'd be happy to jump right back out there."
"Not so fast, hot shot;" laughed Carth. "A meal, a shower and a little more information would probably be a good idea before you venture back out there."
"Yeah;" said Mission, "and you'll need someone who can lead you where the Vulkar's don't go, even under Brejik's orders."
Gadon smiled on the young Twi'lek. "I'm going to guess that you're volunteering, Mission."
"Who else knows the way better, Gadon? Yeah, sure. I'll go with him but only after food and a little more sleep. I'm still tired from only getting a few hours last night."
Suddenly, Zurth's own exhaustion became apparent and he sighed. "Not a bad idea, Mission. Alright, lets eat something and sleep. Danna's hospitality was great but I'm still tired and hungry."
Temporary quarters were set up for them and they slept for some time. When Carth shook him awake, Zurth muttered, "What time is it?"
"About zero-six hundred local time, not that you can tell. The sun never seems to get down here. Come on, let's get some breakfast and then we'll discuss a route for you to practice driving. They finished installing the engine part so you'll get to test that too."
The dining area was a communal one much like one on a military base. The Beks were in small groups here and there, eating and drinking and conversing casually. Zurth and Carth entered, many pairs, or trios as the case was, of eyes fixed on them, causing both the Republic soldiers to feel uncomfortable. Then Mission came up, smiling happily as she set her tray down and plopped down next to Zurth. "Hey, big guy;" she said, nudging him with her elbow jovially, "ready for a fun filled day of swoop riding?"
Zurth grinned. "Sure are, Mission. Where're you taking me?"
She winked cheekily. "You'll find out when we get there. 'Til then, you'll just have to stew in your curiosity."
Zurth sighed. "You are going to be a cruel piloting coach, aren't you."
Mission's only response was to wink and shovel food into her face. Zaalbar came up with an entire haunch of something or another, barely cooked and still bloody. He barked a morning greeting before digging in.
For the next several days, Zurth road through the Lower City traffic lanes, learning the intricacies of piloting the sturdy little craft. Mission, despite her youth, was a good pilot and an excellent teacher. However, Zurth soon left her in the dust and when he engaged the accelerator, they wound up having to just meet back at the Bek's home base later. All too soon, it was the night before the race. Zurth wasn't able to sleep very well but he still laid back and closed his eyes. Experience had taught him that, even if he couldn't relax his mind completely, his muscles and eyes would benefit. When morning came, a Duros came. "It's time, Human. Are you ready?"
Zurth stretched and gave a lopsided grin. "I'm as ready as I will ever be. Let's go."
The Bek's went to where the race was being held in force, all well armed. It was an unwritten rule among the swoop gangs of Taris that no one would cause trouble that would lead to a gang war and if there was a gang war, the trouble was left at the checkpoint. However, no one was confident that Brejik would keep that in mind. He had support of a lot of the weaker gangs of the city bought and paid for. They would do anything to earn a little extra money or favors from what they were sure would be the most powerful gang in the Lower City. Many a hostile eye was leveled at Gadon and the Hidden Beks but it seemed that they were still willing to honor the unwritten laws.
As Zurth and his core group of supporters moved the swoop to the starting line, Brejik and his closest followers strode up. "You have something that belongs to me, scumbag."
Zurth met his gaze levelly. "I'm fairly certain I don't, Thief. Now back off. I have a race to get ready for."
Brejik snarled, "You'd better learn some respect because soon, I'll rule the whole of the Lower City and have a criminal Empire to rival Davik Kang's. When that happens, there is no place in the Upper or Lower City that you can hide. You'll have to join the Exiles in the Under City if you want to survive."
"You're overconfident, Brejik;" said Zurth, no longer even bothering to look at the man. "That overconfidence is going to get you killed."
"We'll see;" snapped Brejik before he stormed away.
Mission hurried over. "Be careful out there. When it comes to the race, the only rules iare no weapons on the swoops and no weapons in the swoops. They still put armor plating on them and try to kill each other sometimes."
Zurth grinned. "It's fine, Mission. I'll leave their sorry butts in the dust."
Mission didn't look so certain. As they prepared to race, all the prizes were displayed in a cordoned off area - sets of valuable weapons and battles armor, cases of credits, highly illegal and expensive ship modifications and, at the center of it all, a cage with a young woman inside of it. She wore a corset that accentuated her hourglass figure and her breasts as well. Her pants were billowy and sheer, showing that she wore only a small garment to cover her modesty. On her feet were knee high leather boots. Her brown hair was back in a braid and she looked dazed as she sat cross-legged in the cage, leaning against the back of it.
Seeing her, Zurth's eyes widened. He hurried over to Carth and pointed her out. "Is that Bastila?"
Carth nodded, looking outraged and anxious about her predicament. "Woah!" said Zurth, his eyes wide as he stared at her.
Carth scowled. "Head out of the trash compactor, soldier! You need to focus on the race and remember that she's a Jedi. They don't do relationships. Have some military professionalism, will you!"
"Sure, sure;" said Zurth distractedly as he headed back to the swoop, still stealing looks at the beautiful young Jedi in the cage. Even though he knew that it was impossible for anything to happen, he couldn't take his eyes off her. "Hey, Handsome;" came a familiar voice.
Taring his eyes away from Bastila, he looked at the Arkanian woman, Danna. She was smiling excitedly. "Good luck out there. Do us proud and I'll see you at the celebration."
Zurth grinned at her. "Not if I see you first."
The other pilots were jumping into their swoops. Before Zurth had the opportunity, Danna grabbed his hand and kissed him quickly. "For luck;" she explained before stepping back.
Zurth felt his cheeks flush and he winked at her as he hopped into the pilot's seat of the vehicle. With sure movements, he powered the vehicle up and ran the system through a check. All systems showed green, including the advanced engine accelerator. He through on a swoop helmet and strapped on gloves that would keep his sweaty hands from slipping.
All the swoops were lined up and ready to go, their engines revving and roaring. The spectators sat in lounges that had view screens since the race track went through tunnels in the buildings, under walk ways and landing pads and even into some of the larger sewer ways. The only time they would see the swoops in person was as they blazed by in a blur.
Zurth's friends sat with Gadon Thek and Zaerdra and watched, sitting on the edge of their chairs as they did. Announcements were made in several different languages explaining the very loose rules and then the three count began. When it hit zero, a loud chime went off and the swoops blazed off. Watching via a series of view screens, the spectators cheered and egged on their chosen drivers.
Zurth was grinning broadly as he gunned the engine. Even without engaging the engine accelerator mod, he was able to outstrip the heavier swoops. The pilots smashed into each other. Some of them even had sharp edges on their swoops, probably claiming that they were 'decorative'. Whether it was the case or not, they smashed and slashed each other's vehicles to pieces. Zurth was in the front running group, easily avoiding the heavier and slower swoops behind him. Even so, there were a few that seemed to keep pace with him and even perhaps be a little bit faster. Faster, that is, without the accelerator. When it looked like they were coming to a straight away, he activated the mod and was pressed back into his seat as his swoop blazed forward, passed the other bikes. Carefully, he dialed back the accelerator as he came to another turn.
Mission watched through the screen intently as Zurth peeled away from the others. However, at every turn, they began to gain on him and the accelerator was a massive drain on his fuel. If he used it too liberally, his tank would be dry before he made it through the race. Zurth seemed to understand this, however because he used the accelerator sparingly. Zaalbar rumbled something in his peculiar language and Mission looked away from the screen just long enough to smile and say, "Thanks, Big Z. I did my best. Zurth's just a natural swoop pilot."
Zaalbar gave a barking laugh and they turned back to the screen.
Zurth was trying to monitor his fuel carefully but the other swoops were seeming to be gunning for him at the exclusion of one another. He had taken a couple nasty knocks that, while not doing enough to damage his swoop, were sure nasty enough to ever so slightly rattle him. He was still new at this. Even so, a couple deep breaths and he was able to shake it off and focus on his piloting. One of them tried to smash him into a building and Zurth was forced to slam the breaks and his malicious opponent slammed into the building, his swoop disintegrating. While the maneuver had relieved Zurth of one opponents, it had given several others a lead and he was too close to a turn to use the accelerator. When he made the turn, he cursed. The track was no straight away but a series of acute angles and zig-zags. Gritting his teeth, Zurth went as fast as he could without being too reckless. As he did, he passed three wrecks and realized that either the track or the racers had eliminated all but one of the competitors ahead of him.
The realization heartened Zurth and he blazed past the finish line for the first lap, a mere hundred meters behind the lead swoop. As the first straight away approached, Zurth's finger itched to hit the accelerated but he waited. Just as he came out of the turn to the straight away, he gunned it and blazed forward, catching up to his opponent and passing him just before having to cut the accelerator and round another bend in the track.
For the next lap and a half, they traded the lead and Zurth began to worry that he wouldn't have enough fuel for the final stretch. At first, he wondered why his opponent didn't try to smash him but then, after one good look, he realized that the thing was only a moment away from shaking apart from all the damage it had taken eliminating the other swoop racers. That gave Zurth and idea. When they were coming to the series of twists and turns, Zurth just tapped the accelerator, pushing himself just ahead of his opponent. Anticipating that the other racer, desperate to win, would take every risk to try to catch up or eliminate him.
As it turned out, Zurth was correct. As they were on the final stretch, pieces of his opponent's swoop were beginning to come off from where he had smashed into the course walls and smash into Zurth himself. It was a good thing too since Zurth's swoop was running completely on fumes. In a last ditch effort, the other swoop driver ran had on into Zurth Barsad from behind. It was futile, however, since all that served was to finish off the swoop and send Zurth over the line just as his speeder shut down, grinding to a halt on the duracrete only four meters over the line.
With a mighty cheer from the Beks and even a few of the other swoop gangs, a crowd mobbed him. The Beks lifted him onto their shoulders and cheered as they carried him towards the prizes. Suddenly, a blaster shot and a yell ended their revelries. There stood Brejik, scowling angrily and glaring at Zurth. "You cheated by using an illegal modification. The Black Vulkars refuse to give up their portion of the prize!"
Gadon slowly eased himself back and Zaerdra took up a position in front of him. Zurth sneered. "Oh, is that so? Illegal, you say? Then why the hells did you steal if from Gadon Thek?"
"I don't need your baseless accusations;" snarled Brejik. "We are taking our portion and leaving."
"No," said Zurth in a deadly quiet voice. "You're not."
They stared at one another as the other members of other gangs began to quickly disperse until only Zurth, his friends, Brejik and the Black Vulkar's remained. Gadon had been physically dragged away by Zaerdra despite his protests and a good chunk of the Beks had gone with them, wanting to be sure their leader was safe. "I stand upon the very crest of the wave of the future;" declared Brejik loftily. "Only those who wish to stay stagnant will defy me. That includes you, off-worlder. There is no need for us to be enemies. You can have the girl - if you join me and help us wipe out the Hidden Beks."
Zurth's jaw was set. There was no temptation. There was not even a hint of thought about how easy it would be to escape with Bastila after he had taken her as his 'prize'. In a motion faster than even the fastest of the Black Vulkar's, Zurth's blaster pistol was drawn and leveled. "Leave now and don't bother the Hidden Bek's again or die now."
"So be it;" growled the leader of the Beks. Immediate several things happened at once! Zurth and his friends opened fire but Brejik managed to knock the blaster aside before the soldier squeezed the trigger and the two of them grappled. From the cage, Bastila had stood and used the force to break out of the cage, summoning a double bladed vibro sword from the pile of prizes and falling upon her captors.
Mission was blasting away from cover, her face drawn in a snarl. Zaalbar was among the Vulkars, slashing at them and smashing them aside with his brutal strength. All the while, Zurth and Brejik rolled about on the ground, pounding away whenever they could.
Zurth had the best Echani martial arts training the Republic special forces could purchase but Brejik was a brawler from his earliest memories. He may not have known official techniques, but he had learned what worked and what didn't. With a nasty headbutt, he gained some distance and stood. Spitting blood, Zurth stood too and they circled, glaring at one another. With a roar, Brejik charged, only to be neatly thrown by Zurth, right into the side of the grounded racing swoop. The soldier followed up with several nasty punches to the chest and head but Brejik was tough. He took all the blows with snarls of pair and grabbed his assailant, trying to knee and elbow him into submission.
Bastila had cleaved through several Vulkars and used the force to blast several more. Within minutes, the only Vulkar left in the area was Brejik and he was still grappling with Zurth. The others refused to shoot for fear of risking their friend but Bastila strode over, waiting for an opening.
Once again, the two combatants gained some distance and Brejik snarled. "You won't beat me, off-worlder! I've been fighting since I was-" but a telekinetic blast sent him smashing into the wall. As he stood back to his feet, his breathing rattled terribly, the evidence of some broken ribs. In a crisp, accented voice, Bastila said almost haughtily, "Despite your keeping me prisoner for the purpose of selling me as a pleasure slave, I am offering you this one chance. Leave now and lick your wounds."
Brejik glared before spitting, "How did you get out? I had you in a neural restraint band."
She looked at him distastefully, "You underestimate the power of the Jedi, Brejik. Now go."
He tried to go for a blaster pistol and Bastila threw her weapon. It cut the gang leader down before flying back to the Jedi's hands. Zurth considered her for a moment before spitting a mouth full of blood to the side. The Jedi pulled a face and said, "It appears I broke out just in time to save you."
"Wha- WHAT?" Zurth all but shouted, nearly spraying blood all over. "You did not save me, Sweetheart! I saved you!"
"Specialist Barsad!" snapped Carth.
Mission and Zaalbar watched with interest as the soldier and the Jedi glared at one another. "I had everything perfectly under control."
"Oh sure you did, lady;" chuckled Zurth as he carefully probed at his teeth to make sure they were all in tact, which they were. "I could tell by the fact that your eyes were rolled in the back of your head and your mouth was hanging open. Kriff sake, you were practically drooling in there."
Bastila's mouth fell open and she stomped her foot. "I was not drooling! I was aware of everything that was going on, you.. you..."
Zurth waited with one raised, bushy brow. "Yes?" he said after a moment.
"GAHHH!" said the Jedi, turning away and all but stomping off. Carth glared at Zurth but Mission and Zaalbar were laughing, leaning against one another. "We are going to have to work on your deference for authority, Specialist."
"Yeah, yeah;" said Zurth before spitting another mouth full of blood.
"Come along, Soldiers;" called Bastila testily.
"Lady, do you even know where we're going?" asked Zurth.
"Of course;" she snapped. "We need to get to the Upper City."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple;" said Carth, still glaring at Zurth who was smirking. "We need to get back to the Beks and see if they can give us a way to get to the surface. without the Sith detecting us. They have control of this planet."
That stopped her up short and she said cautiously. "I see. Well then, lead on, Lieutenant Onasi. I'll follow your lead for now."
Zurth chuckled and then spat out another mouth full of blood as Bastila fell in between him and Carth. It took all of Zurth's prodigious self control to not look down at the young Jedi's assets. With a groan, he thought to himself, Oh this is really going to be a pain in my-
"Is there a problem, Specialist?" asked Bastila haughtily.
"No, nothing at all;" he all but ground out. "While you were in your cage taking a nap, I was winning the swoop race that secured your freedom - or would have if Brejik hadn't double crossed us and you hadn't busted out, not to mention the fact that I had to fight without the advantage of your hokey powers. You wouldn't understand."
To his surprise, she considered him for a moment before saying, "When we get the chance, you should let me take a look at those. I can probably help you heal them more quickly than if you only used kolto."
Zurth tried to maintain a glare but even he had to soften his own features and mutter, "That would be great if you could, thanks, Master Jedi."
Carth glanced behind him and gave a quiet sigh of relief. Perhaps Zurth and Bastila would at least be able to be civil after all.
