Once more, our terrible trio was greeted by raucous applause. Wes, Hobbie, and Tycho stood once again in the Top Gear studio, this time by a starfighter whose design was at once novel and familiar.

'Hello again,' said Wes. 'Hello, ladies and gentlemen! We're back! Now, we've noticed a rather new trend in starfighter manufacturing these days, and you probably have as well.'

'Yes,' Hobbie continued, 'and it's that everyone and their mother is jumping on the stealth fighter bandwagon. After the massive fanfare and success the StealthX-2 received during the hunt for Natasi Daala, almost everyone is following Incom's lead. You've got the Mk IX A-wing, the TIE Spectre, the Stealth Pinook, the C-85E Silent Tracker, the new Stealthviper-class, and more. It seems like the only ones not rubbing their tinkles over the stealth fad are Koensayr, Theed/Nubia, and the Hapans.'

'Well, you can add Slayn & Korpil to the list of stealth manufacturers,' said Tycho, 'because behind us is their newest masterpiece. Well, their newest piece. This is the A/SF-X StealthB.'

It was, indeed, a B-wing, albeit sleeker, slimmer, and clad in dark gray stealth coating. Fitted with all the fixings that went into the StealthX, the ASF-X marked S&K's entry into the great Stealth Race.

Tycho kept talking. 'According to S&K, the StealthB is meant to be a nearly undetectable strike fighter designed for rapid surgical strikepffffffft! Okay, okay, I can't take this seriously anymore. Really, a StealthB? Look at this thing! It's still massive! It's still a gigantic target and fire magnet! Anyone with the standard-issue Mk I eyeball will see it coming from the other side of the galaxy and just take it down with lasers!'

'I'm going to have to agree with Tycho here,' Hobbie said. 'It's not exactly the subtlest thing in the galaxy. It's like a Hutt assassin, a big lumbering ball of love handles and fat rolls that tries so desperately hard to be sneaky and you just have to humor it because you don't want to hurt its feelings. I mean, look at the cockpit! The autoblaster arrangement even gives it a big dumb smile!'

Wes and Tycho cracked up at Hobbie's demonstration.

'It's uncanny how close the resemblance is,' Wes said, pointing out Hobbie's wide, yawning smile. 'And Slayn & Korpil wouldn't even give us the price tag for this thing!'

'I'll tell you why,' Tycho said. 'It's because they're embarrassed about it. It's like getting one of those airheaded, ultra-rich girlfriends who eats only the most expensive snacks and wears only designer ballgowns made in a Hapan sweatshop from the tears of virgin energy spiders. Speaking of which, do we have a video of this thing on the test track?'

Hobbie looked sheepish. 'Forgot to take the B-wing aptitude course this year. My flight clearance is expired.'

'Why would I fly S&K?' Wes asked indignantly. 'I'm a Koensayr man.'

'And I have a medical condition that forbids me from flying anything slower than an X-wing,' Tycho said. 'What about ST-166?'

'He's on vacation,' Wes explained.

'What? Where would a tame racing pilot even go for a vacation? Does he even know how to have fun?'

On distant Fresia, ST-166's luggage was wheeled into his hotel room. Well, it wasn't a hotel room so much as an Incom hangar. From inside, the locks on the suitcase popped and ST-166 came out. Inside the suitcase as a sleeping bag with little X-wings and an astromech plush toy. The pilot unpacked his toiletries (a starfighter field maintenance kit) and clothes (more white flight suits) and popped the canopy on the X-wing next to his suitcase. Then he laid the sleeping bag on the pilot's seat, pulled out a holovid, and got comfy.

Tycho facepalmed. 'So we don't have a test flight filmed for this?'

'I'm afraid not,' Hobbie said. 'Crap. Who else do we know who's-'

There was a crash as something broke in through the skylight.

'HA HA! TIME FOR B-WING!' yelled a familiar voice.

Wes, Hobbie, and Tycho turned to regard the intruder, blasters drawn. The newcomer was clad in the most ridiculous getup they'd ever seen. He wore a flowing red cape on top of his already garish orange flight suit, and in place of the standard deal, his helmet's visor was shaped like a pair of triangular orange shades.

'Oh,' Wes said, holstering his gun. 'False alarm, it's just Farlander.'

'Wait, the skylight,' Hobbie pointed out. 'Why-How?'

Farlander was slated to be tonight's Star in a Reasonably Priced Fighter. They'd even had his timed lap filmed. He was already supposed to be in the studio. But he'd broken in through the skylight. Which meant that he would have left the building, gotten on the roof and-

Oh. Oh. For the love of crap.

'That's right!' Farlander yelled, posing on top of the B-wing with a finger pointed to the heavens. 'When you want a B-wing piloted, you call the greatest, most badass blade jockey in the galaxy! The man who can kick reason to the curb and go beyond the impossible! The man whose drill will pierce the heavens! The almighty Keyan Farlander!'

'Why did we invite him to the show?' Hobbie whispered to Wes.

'I thought he'd have mellowed out by now,' Wes admitted.

'Just roll with it,' Tycho urged.

Wes shrugged and addressed the audience. 'And how appropriate, because it's time for our Star in a Fighter!'

'Isn't it supposed to be "Star in a Reasonably-Priced Fighter"?' Hobbie asked.

'B-wings aren't reasonably-priced,' Wes answered. 'He's one of the heroes of the Rebellion era and quite possibly the only man to ever like the B-wing! Please welcome General Keyan Farlander!'

About an hour later, Farlander was flying around the show's test track, putting the starfighter through its paces.

'You see, viewers,' Farlander explained, 'the StealthB may have a sensor cross-section as large as an A-wing with deactivated jammers, and she may not corner as well as some fighters, but she's stealthy for one reason and one reason only. The only people who have ever spotted her in combat are all dead, courtesy of her voluptuous payload.'

He shot past the Hammerhead wreck, vaping a pair of practice targets and rolling, slipping in between a pair of asteroids as he closed the s-foils. He swung the craft around in a wide arc, nailing another practice target at long range with a torpedo

'And she handles pretty well, too. Corners like a dream, properly tricky once you master the rolling, and enough firepower to make an entire fleet of Star Destroyers cry.'

The first two claims were complete bullshit, as B-wings have never handled properly or cornered well. The only reason Farlander was able to actually maneuver in the damn thing was his seemingly supernatural immunity to the stresses of K-turning in one of these things as long as there was something to blow up. Also, the Force. There wasn't any problem with the StealthB's speed. Even Wes, Hobbie, and Tycho admitted that the new S&K JZ-99 engines were amazingly powerful-enough to give the B-wing a rate of acceleration comparable to that of an X-wing despite its chubbiness. But the fighter's turning radius would make Sienar aficionados break down in laughter.

Farlander gritted his teeth as he pulled the StealthB into a hard turn it was never meant to pull, tagging another set of practice targets during his flight.

'Now, the galactic Star Destroyer kill record was achieved with a B-wing by Wedge Antilles, who accomplished the feat in about a minute,' Farlander said. 'This fighter was built to beat that time. Its built-in sensor suite is top-notch and she carries enough space now for a whopping twenty torps. That is insane, no matter which way you slice it. This fighter? Girl of my dreams. She's my old A/SF-01, all dressed up and ready for the ball.'

When the show returned to the studio, Wes, Hobbie, and Tycho all looked immensely skeptical.

'What?' Farlander asked. 'You saw it. Spinning works. I proved it, Anakin Skywalker proved it-'

Wes, Hobbie, and Tycho all just gave him the eyebrow.

'Alright then, be that way!' Farlander harrumphed on his way out. 'You X-wing mafia and your Incom endorsements! One day, you'll see the light! The B-wing will have its day!'

The three hosts waited for their somewhat obsessed guest to leave before continuing with the show.

'Alright,' Wes said, 'I bet you fifty thousand credits that the new Y-wing model will be not only cheaper, but superior and vastly more cost-effective.'

'No bet,' Hobbie and Tycho chorused.

'Yeah, we all know it's true,' Wes said. 'But now that we're done reviewing the second-biggest money sink in the galaxy, it's time for us to move on to today's challenge. You may have seen in the news recently that the Mon Calamari have established a new colony in the Mid Rim to serve as an aquatic pleasure world, full of resorts and luxuries for seadogs and landlubbers alike. Our producers thought it might be a good idea to have us pay a visit to the planet Kokomo and see just what sort of fun they have down there.'

'Of course, it won't be all fun in the sun,' Hobbie pointed out. 'We're Top Gear, after all, and we never do anything simply. No, our producers gave us a bit of a challenge. So without further ado, let's get this show on the road!'

Tycho was the first to show up to the docks of an island on planet Kokomo. The sun shined in a cloudless blue sky above glittering cerulean waters. It was pleasantly warm and humid-tropical but not so tropical that it felt like you were sitting in Admiral Ackbar's office. Clad in appropriately festive flight gear, Tycho looked comically repulsive thanks to the floral print flak vest and brightly colored jumpsuit. Normally, he would have taken a starfighter for this challenge but due to planetary regulations, he had to get creative.

'As you can tell, I've done this properly,' he said, pulling up in his ride. It looked for all the world like a regular old TIE Fighter, but with a rearward protrusion that indicated the presence of aquatic twin-ion engines. 'This, ladies and gentlemen, is Sienar Fleet Systems' TIE Boat. Exact same specs as the TIE Fighter in terms of durability, armament, and price, but the engines are fitted for blue-water travel rather than the void of space. Also, the lasers are mounted topside next to the exit hatch rather than on the cockpit's underside for obvious reasons. I chose this because I like Sienar product. It's quick, easy to maintain, and I guarantee that it won't break down in the middle of a challenge. For all their craziness, Sienar's R&D is truly brilliant when it comes to designing rugged, dependable engines, and the twin-ion will never break down. And-hold on, it seems wesa have a big bombad guest!'

Hobbie pulled up to the dock next to Tycho's in a Gungan Bongo. He, too, wore something loud and tropical and offensive to the eyes, and he'd already decorated the cockpit of his ride with little palm trees, a hula girl, and those tiny dinosaur figurines he liked so much.

'Hold up,' Tycho said, 'isn't Wes the gungophile?'

'Normally, yeah, but he said he was planning on showing up to something a little more fun.'

'"Fun".'

'Yes. "Fun".'

'Oh boy,' Tycho said nervously. 'Anyway, nice ride. I approve.'

'Thank you, thank you, good sir. This is the classic tribubble model so favored by the Gungan people. She's got the standard electromotive field motor, 1,600 kilos of carrying capacity, and I've taken the liberty of borrowing the luxury model, which means extra cupholders, memory foam seat cushions, and a fully functional refresher and refrigerator. Also, a sweet sound system for when I want to play some music.'

'Nice, nice. How much do those go for these days?'

'About fifty thousand for the standard civilian model, sixty thousand for the luxury civ. You'd have to shell out a hundred thousand for the military version, which comes with better engines, armor, and torpedo tubes, but for obvious reasons, I can't take that to this challenge. And is that-is that a TIE Boat?'

'Oyah,' Tycho said proudly. 'Took me ages to find one because most had been scrapped and nobody really wanted them anymore, but I did and now she's ready to show the galaxy her stuff!'

'Isn't it a bit, y'know, cramped in there?'

'I've flown A-wings. They're not much roomier. Besides, it'll be fun. Like a big bathysphere made of paper-thin armor. Contrast Major Yobbo's vehicle over there.'

Wes' vehicle had arrived on the scene and sweet Space Jesus, it certainly seemed very Janson-esque. It looked for all the world like a quadruple amputee AT-AT. And it was. It was the Aquatic Terrain Armored Transport, designed for deep sea assaultsalongside the TIE Boat and aquatroopers. It was large, heavily-armored, intimidating, and totally not compensatory in any way.

'Oh yes!' Wes said as he hopped down from the cockpit hatch. 'Behold, gentlemen! A masterpiece!'

'You're an idiot,' Tycho said.

'Excuse me?'

'Yousa not be all that thinken' in the noodle, boyo,' Hobbie said in an atrocious Gungan accent.

Before Wes could argue that his vehicle had not been chosen due to deficiencies in the trouser or brain department, a production assistant handed each of them an insulated box and produced the challenge datapad. Wes began reading aloud.

'"Now that you have arrived on the planet Kokomo, you must now demonstrate the luxuries of this world to a visitor. A friend of the show is situated at the other end of this island chain on a resort complex known as Margaritaville. Your job is to deliver the pizza contained in your container to this individual. The first one to deliver their pizza will be declared the victor but there is a catch. The pizza must be delivered intact and warm, which means you have thirty Coruscant minutes to arrive at your destination. The winner will receive a fully paid vacation week here on Kokomo, courtesy of our guest, while the losers get to return empty-handed to Coruscant." Well, it can't be that hard, right?'

'Don't say that!' Hobbie exclaimed.