Chapter 11 – Winners and Losers
Amira sat sandwiched between Anglu and Phirk with the galaxy's most smug expression on her face. Amira had outdone herself - she had no idea she could even make those last half-second turns and not go out in ball of flames - and knew no one would be able to do better. She watched smugly as many tried and all failed. Three racers died trying to beat her record. Redros tried nine times to beat Amira's time, coming close to crashing on four of his heats before the engine in his bike finally gave out halfway through his last race.
So it was no surprise when the event was finally closing and the Duros announcer was trying to bring some order into the wild crowd in the stadium and in the pits that Anglu jabbed Amira in the ribs and pulled the woman up.
"You mind if we wing you as you go up there?" the Twi'lek asked, eyes glittering with excitement. "I've always wanted to go on the opener stage, even if it's as an honour guard to the winner!"
Amira knew she couldn't turn down such an exuberant hope. "Sure," she agreed, looking between Anglu and Phirk.
Phirk grinned. "Great!"
"Will Riders 47, 223 and 189 make their way to the stage?" the announcer shouted into the microphone. The crowd in the pits parted respectfully for Amira, her honour guard, and the other two racers that came second and third. Amira was sure that one of the Vulkars' mechanics tried to trip her, though.
A young Rodian wearing the green and black of the Back Streets and a canine-looking Bothan from the Hidden Blades each walked up a different set of stairs on either side of the stage. Amira and her honour guard used the same stairs as the Bothan, on the right side of the stage.
When all of them were standing in the centre and facing the crowd, the announcer awarded the medallions to the respective racers. Then he turned to the crowd in the pits, the microphone and the cameras. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the winner of this year's swoop race!" The Hidden Beks cheered and beat their fists into the air. "Show some appreciation for the most daring rider this swoop track has seen in years!" The Duros turned and addressed Amira directly. "Your skill and bravery has made you the premier swoop rider on Taris, and brought glory to the honourable Hidden Bek gang!" He half-turned so he could address both Amira and the audience. "Here to present the hefty haul of prizes is Brejik, leader of the Black Vulkars."
Behind Amira, Anglu and Phirk both tensed. The young leader ascended the stairs with both contempt and fury. Amira was glad she had strapped her vibroblades on before she had come up. Brejik's expression was promising trouble.
He completely ignored Amira, instead turning to the audience and raising his arms to get their attention. "People, listen to me! The 'champion' of the Hidden Beks was using a prototype accelerator - clearly an unfair advantage!"
The reply to his statement was comprised of boos, jeers, shouted profanities and universally rude hand gestures from quite a few people in the crowd. Amira swore so colourfully at Brejik that many members of the mob were quite impressed.
Brejik, however, was not dissuaded and continued, "Because of this treachery, I'm withdrawing my slave from the prize!"
"Try and take her from me, punk!" Amira shouted above the indignant roar of the crowd, drawing her vibroblades with a flourish. Anger surged through her, tempered by steely resolve. Brejik needed to be slapped down, and now was the time.
"I believe I have something to say about that," a haughty voice called. Heads turned to the cage as Bastila threw the door open and killed the guard with a neck-snapping kick. She ripped off the neural disruptor with one hand while the guard's double-bladed vibroblade flew into the other.
"Dramatic much," Amira grumbled. She unsheathed her own vibroblades and coiled her body, just waiting for the battle to break out.
Brejik's eyes about popped out of his head. "What?" he gasped. "You were restrained with a neural disruptor! How could you possibly summon the will to free yourself?"
"You underestimate the strength of a Jedi's mind," Bastila said contemptuously.
"Vulkars! Kill these women! Kill the Beks! Kill them all!"
Everything went to hell from there. The Vulkars hacked and slashed in the crowd, not caring who they hit. The Beks were on their throats immediately. The majority of the other racers and technicians sprinted for the exits, knocking over those in front of them in their panic and crushing them to death.
Amira lunged for Brejik but was beaten by Bastila, who had him on the defensive immediately. Amira took a single swipe at him, leaving a bleeding gash along his calf before turning to the closest set of stairs. Brejik was a dead man; she had just wanted to get a hit in to make herself feel better. She now saw to defending Bastila's back by cutting down any Vulkar that tried to ascend to aid Brejik. Anglu was hurling some profanity as her blaster fired relentlessly, Phirk by her side as they covered the far set of stairs. The Rodian who had come third raced past Amira into the real fray, only to be downed by a stray blaster bolt. His body did however knock three Vulkars off-balance, a distraction Amira easily preyed on. The Bothan, on the other hand, stayed by Amira and they worked in tandem, occasionally kicking a body down the staircase to hit an unwary Vulkar.
Brejik's death cry sailed through the air, sealing the fates of his remaining men. Amira glanced over her shoulder, but a hiss from the Bothan brought her back. The closest Vulkars broke from their current fights and lunged up the stairs, their mouths curled into snarls and their eyes full brimming with vengeance. The Bothan was happy to snarl right back, his sharp teeth glistening as he met them full on. Amira adjusted her stance and waited for her enemies to get close. She only managed to knock one off the staircase before realising they were in trouble. The Vulkars were bottlenecked at the moment between her and their abandoned opponents, but many more were approaching and she wasn't sure she could hold this position for much longer.
"Could use some help here you damn Jedi!" she hollered. What the hell has she been doing, anyway?
Amira's response was herself and the Bothan being knocked off their feet and a flash of yellow light above her. Amira heard the sound of her head hitting the durasteel before she felt it. Pain exploded across her skull as a starburst of colour flashed before her eyes. She let some foul words slip before regaining enough control to look over in time to see the lightsaber fly back from the smoking corpses on the stairs.
Amira slowly sat up, pressing one hand tightly to the tender spot on her head. That's gonna leave a bruise, she thought. The pain crescendoed for a few seconds, then settled into a steady throbbing.
"You okay?"
Amira glanced around to see the Bothan beside her. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks for your help, by the way."
He grinned, showing his sharp fangs. "My pleasure. I've wanted to do that since Brejik took over."
Amira nodded and made it to her feet. "I'll give you a piece of advice: high tail it now and forget you ever saw that prize girl or the lightsaber."
"Will do," he said, then jumped off the stage and picked his way through the corpses, occasionally kneeling to pocket a few credits or other goods.
Amira looked around for her vibroblades and quickly cleaned them. As she sheathed them, she surveyed the battleground. Beks were robbing the dead or helping injured comrades hobble out of the racing pit. Amira turned, a satisfied smirk forming at the sight of Brejik's body.
"You. . . if you think that you can keep a Jedi as a prize-"
"Can it!" Amira spat, spinning an extra inch to finally see Bastila. "Nice going on your little stunt, by the way. I'd prefer to be off Taris before I get another concussion."
The Jedi seemed derailed at that, her eyes briefly widening as she examined Amira. "You were a crew member on the Endar Spire, weren't you? Yes, I am sure of it."
"Good to see you remember who I am, since you're the one who bloody transferred me!" Amira hissed, her eyes narrowing. "Why else would I risk my skin rescuing you?"
"Rescuing me?" Bastila snorted delicately, her fine features twisting in derision. "If I had not been here, Brejik and his Vulkars would have killed you! I'd say that is a pretty poor example of a rescue."
"If you hadn't been here I wouldn't have had to jump through so many fracking hoops!" Amira all but snarled. "I wouldn't have been roped into helping your ungrateful ass get off Taris, I wouldn't have been bitten by a rakghoul and I sure as hell wouldn't be here listening to you disregard everything I've done!"
"Woah, catfight! Where's the holorecorder?"
If it hadn't been Mission who had said that, Amira would have lashed out. "No holorecorders, Mission," she instead said tightly, forcing herself back under control. "We're going." She turned so she wouldn't have to look at Bastila. Not only was she furious at the Jedi, but said Jedi's clothes left a bad taste in her mouth. Amira loathed the way she felt embarrassed for the girl as she stalked for the nearest exit. She hated the concept that women were toys to be exploited, so she could feel sympathy – even grudgingly – for anyone forced to look like a joy girl, even if the person in question was an arrogant Jedi princess.
To let her stay humiliated or to be nice? Amira wondered to herself, fingering one of the clasps on her jacket. After the way Bastila 'thanked' me, no way. The Jedi could learn that karma did, in fact, exist. Under her breath, Amira muttered, "I need a drink."