Star Wars: Rise of the Sith

Chapter 4

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            "Nike I think we need that."

            "No we don't."

            "Well then we defiantly need that."

            "That's just for show."

            "I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to take that off."

            "It's fine.  Look, I'm the one who knows the most about fixing things around here, therefore I'm in charge."

            "First off, Miss I-threw-a-turbo-combustor-out-the-window-when-I-got-mad-at-it, I'm the mechanic around here, secondly, what you just took off it the thing that gives this thing its power."

            "According to the holocharts-"

            "Moria, I don't need a holochart."

            "Yeah but that goes there and you got the flow systems reversed."

            "Do not."

            "Actually you do."

            "No one asked you Damian."

            "You will all stop this nonsense immediately!  You're parents will sell me when they hear of this"

            "WooooooEEE."

            "What do you mean 'good riddance' you insubordinate heap of trash?!"

            "Hey, Goldie, go somewhere else and scream."

            "My name is not Goldie it is-"

            "HEY!  Can it out there I got customers you're scaring off! Unless you all want to end up on some moisture farm!"  The five children and two droids stopped their arguing when Nord yelled at them.

            "I'm not getting this…thing," Ben finally said, looking at the pod and all the pieces that had been removed from it.  

            "Yeah well," Sylor said, "we're supposed to be fixing it, not taking everything off of it."

            "Yeah well, we want it to be fast don't we?"  Nike said.

            "Nike!"  Ben groaned exhaustedly, "you don't even know if you can pilot it yet!  Why do you want to make it faster?"

            "Because," she replied, "the faster the better and when I'm done with this it's going to have a hyperdrive."

            "You're suicidal," Damian informed her.

*~*~*~*~

            Lane looked at Launie.  Launie looked at Reuben.  Reuben looked at Lane.  Three hours.  Lane looked at Reuben.  Launie looked at Lane.  Reuben looked at Launie.  Three hours and thirteen seconds.

            Pure silence.

            Everyone was staying as far away from the command room as possible.  The tension was so thick that it even made Jag feel uncomfortable when he entered.  The children hadn't talked, just had been looking between each other, although Lane and Launie had exchanged a few mental notes, but besides that everything had been silent.

            Lane personally would have liked to talk, but she could sense it in Reuben that he didn't want to.  So she sat there, watching either the simulators or the boy, wondering what to say.  That was when Padme entered.

            "What 'cha doing?" the little girl asked.  She was wearing a little brown dress, fit for the toddler she was, with her brown hair pulled back in small curls, and her green eyes shining.

            "We're working," Lane replied to her cousin.

            "It don't look like you're workin'," she pointed out innocently.

            "That's because we're not working just yet, we're waiting for work to come to us," Lane explained.

            "That doesn't sound very assertable," the little girl had a habit of taking words she didn't know and making them into bigger, nonexistent words.

            "Padme, isn't it past your bedtime or something?"  Launie asked.  Lane shot her sister a look.  Padme and Launie were infamous for not getting along very well with each other, and it caused just about everyone else to get very annoyed at times, Lane's look told her sister that she didn't what to hear their banter, and so she shut up, Padem ignored the question and turned to Reuben.

            "And how are you?"  She asked.  Reuben smiled and ran his fingers through his thick brown hair.

            "Pretty good, and yourself?"

            "Okay, I guess," the little girl shrugged, "'cept my daddy's gotta leave for Hoth."

            "What?"  Reuben asked, "Jacen's going to Hoth also?"

            "Yup, Uncle Luke said that that Master Kyp would need some help, and so Daddy's goin' too," the little girl said.

            "Ah," Reuben said with a nod.  Lane and Launie frowned.

            "I wonder what exactly is going on over on Hoth that makes it necessary for two fully trained Jedi Knights to go sneaking around over there," Lane said.

            "Whatever it is," Launie said, "it can't be good."

*~*~*~*

            Air.  Something that he knew, but hadn't felt for a long time filled his lungs when he sucked in.  He was standing in a very dark room with nothing in it except himself.  He looked around, and wondered where he was.

            Or who he was.

            Everything had been black, and then suddenly, there was light, not much considering that only a small window near the ceiling of the room gave in light, but it's small energy was like burning brightness on his new eyes.

            New eyes?  Were they new?  Was this body new?  Was it old?  Had he ever had a body before?

            He was confused, more confused then he had ever been in his life…or non-life, whichever it was.  He tired to think, and remember things, but it all seemed like a blur.  Or was there even an 'it' to be thought of as a blur…

            He sat down on the floor and put his hands to his head.  He wanted answers, and he wanted them soon.

*~*~*~*

            "Alright," Nike said, standing up from a crouch at the pod and wiping her grimy hands on her grimy coveralls, "I think it's time we see what this baby can do."

            "If it can do anything," Ben said dryly.

            "It'll be great," Nike said.

            "Yeah," Sylor said sarcastically, "after you ripped the engine off, I'm sure it's gonna do a great honkin' lot."

            "Hey, I put it back on," Nike said defensively.

            "Yeah," Damian said, "backwards."

            "Hey, cut me some slack this is my first time," she said.

            "Alright, let me see how much you've ruined it," they heard Nord call as he came around the pile of junk.  Nike bit her nail nervously, but then instantly regretted it as an oily, metallic taste bit her tongue.  Nord inspected the Pod

            "Well," he said, circling the Racer, "it looks good enough.  But will it actually move?"

            "I'll test it!"  Nike said, jumping into the cockpit before anyone else had a chance to register his question.  She instantly noticed that there was a reason that humans didn't race these things.  They were small.  There was just enough room in it for her to fit nicely into it, but if she were any bigger then she guessed her butt might have gotten stuck.

            Damian placed a helmet on top of her head, and then punched it down to fit around her head, causing a great deal of her hair to get stuck in front of her face.  Using a few Corellian curse words she had learned from her father, she pulled the helmet off and fixed her hair before placing it carefully back on.  She strapped a pair of goggles around her head and adjusted them to her face.

            "Do you know how to start 'er up?"  Nord asked.  Nike nodded, and began flicking on power switches as her friends moved away.  The engines on the Pod roared to life and she began to vibrate as the harnessed power shook the Pod.

            "It's working!"  She called out joyfully.  Ben, Sylor and Damian all smiled with the job they had done, and Moria rolled her eyes.  She never got these peoples' obsession with fixing things.  Nord smiled too.  And Nike shut off the Pod.

            "Now it's good to sell to Sab'lou," he said.

            "No!"  Nike cried, "you can't sell it!  We just fixed it so that it can race!"

            "I know, race for Sab'lou, I can't let anyone race my Pod."

            "Why not?"  Ben asked.

            "Because everyone worth racing in the Boonta race has already been sponsored."

            "Boonta race?"

            "Boonta Eve Classic," he explained, "it's the most difficult Podrace course around."

            "You can sponsor me," Nike replied.

            "You?"  Nord asked, "haven't we gone over this before?"

            "You don't understand," Nike said, "I'm a pilot!"

            "Yes well, there's a difference between pilot and Podracer."

            "I've run asteroid courses," Nike replied, "I've fought against TIE fighters, I…made the Kessel Run in less then twelve parsecs."  Ben and Sylor exchanged glances, knowing full well that it was all a lie-except the part about TIE fighters.

            Nord raised a thoughtful eyebrow, rubbing his chin with one of his hands.

            "You're not gonna let me sell 'er until you race 'er are you?"  He asked.

            "I've been known to be a pain about these sort of things," she admitted, knowing full well that she had won.

            "Very well," he sighed, "you can give 'er a test run.  But if I don't think you can handle 'er I'm sellin' 'er to Sab'lou.  And don't bust 'er up."

            "You're the best!"  Nike declared, and threw her arms around the salesman.

            "Can we eat first?"  Ben asked.

            "Really," Sylor agreed, "my stomach is eating my kidneys!"

            "Of course," Nord said, and headed inside.

            "Well let's hurry!"  Nike said, running ahead of all them, "we're loosing daylight and the race is in a week!"

*~*~*~*

            "Alright," Nord leaned against the Pod's cockpit, where Nike sat, and explained to her the trial course she was going to be taking, "you'll go around those rock mounts, then through that tunnel, it's a wide one so no need to fright, then back here.  And watch out for Tusken Raiders."

            "Got it," Nike said, pulling the helmet on.

            "You mean there's really people who sit on rocks and shoot at people?"  Ben whispered to Sylor, who shrugged.  Damian looked at them quizzically, then turned back to watch Nike.

            The girl started up the engines, and before anyone could mouth a word to her, she was off.  The Pod was a lot faster then she could ever imagine, and she was at first spiked with fear that she wouldn't be able to handle it.

            Come on Solo, she told herself, you can handle this.  You can handle anything.  She focused on the tall pillars of rock that she was coming up on, and weaving in and out of them.  She came dangerously close to hitting one, but pulled quickly to port to dodge it.

            She entered the entrance of the cave that Nord had directed her to, and realized that it wasn't as wide as he had made it seem.  I need to slow down.  But if I do then I'll never be able to race.  If you can't get through this then you have no business Podracing, much less trying to save the Alliance.

            She gritted her teeth and focused her mind on the task before her.  Get out of the cave as fast as you can without dismembering yourself.  She pushed forward on the acceleration stick on either side of her and surged forward.  She got closer to the wall of cave, and then right before hitting it, jerked to starboard.

            "Sith spawn!"  She hissed as a few rocks banged into the Pod.  She swiveled a bit before pulling the Pod straight and exited the cave.  She surged across open ground until the reached her group, where she pulled the Pod to a sharp halt.

            "Forget an X-wing," Nike said, pulling the helmet off her head, "I want one of these."

            "That was amazing!"  Moria said, "I mean, you were flying!"

            "It makes me sick just watching it," Damian retorted.

            "What?"  Nike snapped, "are you scared of flying or something?"

            "Scared?  No.  Immensely not fond of the idea that anything that goes up can come down, and come down hard or could blow up into a million pieces?  Yes."

            "Scared," Nike muttered, but the dark haired ex-Sith ignored her.

            "Well, Solo," Nord sighed, "with flying like that I would be an idiot to just sell this without giving you a chance-"

            "YES!"  Nike whooped, throwing her fist into the air.

            "-but it's a lot different when you're racing actual other Pods, and not just yourself, and the terrain's harder."

            "Yeah, a lot more fun!"  the girl exclaimed.

            "I lot more death," Damian muttered.

            "Let's just get you ready for the race this weekend," Nord suggested, and Nike beamed.  Her father would go into shock when he heard about this.

*~*~*~*

            "THEY WHAT?!"  Han Solo demanded, slamming a fist down on the control panel.  The man on the holoscreen-a worker on the docking bay on Coruscant, where the children were to be dropped off-somehow found a way to flush even more then before.

            "Uh, we uh, are unable to locate them-"

            "Unable to locate them?" The man asked, putting on a look that he usually saved for a certain silver-legged droid every time he told him something about the Falcon that Han didn't know.

            "Well sir, they weren't on the ship-"

            "What do you mean they weren't on the ship?"  Han asked.  Luckily, his wife stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder before he could threaten the man and break the holoscreen.

            "Are you sure they weren't on the ship?"  Leia asked, hardly able to keep worry out of her voice.

            "Of course they weren't on the ship!"  Mara snapped angrily, "and when I get my hands on that idiot son of mine I'll."

            "This was probably Nike's idea," Han snapped, wondering why he couldn't have at least ONE obedient child.

            "I can't believe Moria would go along with them on something like this," Luke said, "I would at least think she would have more sense then the rest of them."

            "If  I may be so bold," the man on the holoscreen said, "there was another ship departing around the time you dropped the children off."

            "Where to?"  The four parents asked in unison.

            "Tatooine," the man replied.

            "Tatooine?"  Mara asked,  "Why would they go there?"

             "Who cares," Han said, "as long as I get to beat Nike raw when I see her?"

            "You're never in your life even spanked one of the children," Leia pointed out, "much less beat one of them."

            "Yeah well your daughter's really pushing it," her husband muttered, not even claiming parentship of his daughter.

            "We'd better go get them," Luke pointed out.

            "No," Han shook his head," I'll go get them.  I'm the one out of us who's not needed for this war, so I'll be the one to bust their heads."

            "Be sure to give my children my regards," Mara said with a smile.

*~*~*~*

            Moria's red hair stuck to the back on her neck as she and Nike walked down the street towards BiLow's Market under the hot sun.  They both wore cloth tunics, breeches, and leather boots, all shades of brown.  The clothes were rather plain for both girls' tastes, and Nike was rather disappointed with the humidity and how it messed up her hair, no matter what she did with it.  Nike was about the fussiest person Moria knew when it came to her hair.  Now she was wearing it in too buns on the sides of her head, a style her mother had worn when she was younger.  Moria had just pulled her curly mass up and a band held it loosely.

            "Emperor's black bones it's hot out here," Nike complained, "I mean, why would anyone want to live here?"

            "I don't think they necessarily want to," Moria replied, "some were just raised here, and others are on the run from someone."

            "Like their parents," her cousin joked.  Nike skipped ahead and Moria furrowed her brow.  Was this what they were doing?  Running from their parents?  Or were they running from something else?  Like responsibility.

            "Hey!  Watch it!"  Moria's thoughts were interrupted by Nike yelling at someone.  Nike was snapping her head off at some alien-a Dug-who was snapping his head off back at her, both speaking-no, screaming-separate languages.

            "Is she a politician?"  Moria practically jumped out of her skin when Damian came up behind her.

            "What?"  She gasped, spinning around to look at him.

            "I asked if she's a politician, because she sure sounds like one," Dame replied with a smile.  Sith lords he was handsome with that smile, and that sparkle in his blue eyes.

            "Who is that she's fighting with?" Moria asked him.

            "Sab'lou," Dame laughed, "ionic isn't it.  They're going to be racing against each other tomorrow.  What a perfect way for them to meet for the first time, in an argument."

            "So why do you say she sounds like a politician?"

            "Mostly because I don't like politicians, and secondly because she sure can throw out an argument like nothing I've seen.  I mean, she clearly ran into him but she's got him stumped and is practically convincing him otherwise, "he looked back at Moria, "and if you're able to stump a Dug then you're very well off."

            "Can you understand what he's saying?"  She asked.

            "With my ears?  No.  But through the Force we can understand things that even our mind can't begin to comprehend," he told her wisely.  Moria smiled.

            "You know, for a guy who was raised to be a Sith you sure act like a Jedi."

            "Well that just happens to be what I want to be," Dame told her.  "I never wanted to be a Sith."

            "Well that's nice to know," she replied with a smile.  The two watched in silence as the Dug and Nike yelled at each other as they parted ways.  Nike walked back over to them looking disgusted.

            "Can you believe that creep?"  She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

            "Could you understand that creep?"  Dame asked.

            "Some of us, Damian, can tell by their tone what other are saying," she informed him.

            "Ah," he nodded smartly with a smirk.  She scowled at him, piercing him with a stare of her hazel eyes.  "Hey lighten up bread rolls."  He patted her hair and Moria could tell that only the fact that she knew she wouldn't be able to actually hurt Dame if she attacked him was keeping Nike from chocking him.

            "Don't touch my hair," was all she said, shoving his hand away, "Come on Mo, let's go to the market."

            "Okay," Moria said, "see ya later Dame."

            "See ya," Dame replied and then they parted ways.

            "Why do you call him that?"  Nike asked irritated.

            "What?"

            "Why do you call him Dame?"  She repeated.

            "Um…" Moria said, not sure how to answer, "I guess 'cause we're friends.  It's just like how you guys call me Mo, and we call Sylor Sy, and how we tease Ben and call him Ben Ben, like Mom and Dad used to do."

            "Yeah but Damian's not…"

            "Not what?"  Moria asked.

            "He's not…part of our…group."

            "Group?"  Moria asked.  "Look Nike, I know you don't like change, but it happens, and "our group" is going to grow, or it may shrink.  That's life."

            "Well thanks for that Yoda," Nike muttered, and Moria laughed, glad to have her cousin's dry humor along, even if it was mocking her.

*~*~*~*

            The day of the Podrace Nike dressed in a dark green sleeveless pilots uniform.  She pulled on knee high black leather boots and black gloves.  She did her hair in a braid and coiled it into a large circle on the back of her head.

            She checked herself in the mirror, making sure she looked presentable, a habit she had learned from her mother, and had been mercilessly teased and badgered by Jaina about.

            "Hurry up, Shorty," Damian barged into Nike's room, causing her to gasp and jump away from the mirror shaking from be startled.

            "Did I scare ya, Princess?"  He asked with a satisfied smile.

            "Scared?"  She asked, "no.  Immensely not fond of little boys intruding on my privacy?  Yes."

            "Well then," he said, leaning against the wall, "it's a good thing I'm not a little boy."  He smiled even wider, and she turned back towards the mirror, not wanting to look at him for fear that she might smile or he would see her blush.  She fumbled with her belt and felt his eyes boring down into her.  That didn't help her shaking hands very much.

            "Will you get out?"  She asked.

            "Sure," Damian shrugged, "but I must ask why you're getting so dressed up when you're just going to get all dirty."

            "I'm not dressed up too much," she informed him, "but I just like to make sure I look good no matter what I'm doing."  Damian looked as if he were about to say something, but then stopped when Moria came in.

            "Hey, you ready to go?"  She asked.

            "Yeah, one minute," Nike said.

            "Well I'll see you guys in a few minutes," Damian said and left the room.

*~*~*~*

            Dame poured himself a cup of whiskey and downed it, then set it down to be filled again.  He didn't like flying, he liked the ground.  He planned to live and die on the ground.  He had hated living on that space station, and now that he was on Tatooine he had planned on staying there and drinking away the rest of his life.

            And then he had met the little Skywalker-Solo-Hall gangbang.  They all turned out to be pilots-a job he would never be able to fulfill-and the children and apprentices of legends.  Yet they seemed unhappy with their lives.  He wasn't sure how anyone could be unhappy being the son of the most powerful Jedi Master in the galaxy, but then some of the new cadets were jealous of his for being Reth Slayner's son, and he certainly didn't see anything great about it.

            He had only planned on having a few drinks so that he wouldn't be conscious enough to worry the entire time Nike was out there on the course.  She wasn't his favorite person in the world, but he didn't want to see her decapitated or blown up.  He was thinking about going over to the Pod Compound at the arena, where all the racers prepared their Pods, when he heard something very interesting.

            "-trying to find Ben Skywalker-" Dame turned his head fast to see an alien-he was fairly certain it was a Toydarian-talking to the bartender.

            "Awful shame when a parent's got to put a bounty on their kid 'cause they can't find them," the bartender said.  Dame tuned in with the Force to hear the whole conversation.

            "Yeah well, Han Solo's coming down to get 'em," the Toydarian replied, "but if them kids don't wanna be found I'm sure they can find a way to stay not found."

            "I hear one of 'em's enterin' the Boonta-" That's all Dame listened to because he was out of there.  He ran-which is quite hard for a half drunk guy to do-to the Compound and searched frantically for Nike.  He saw her, under the Pod getting her clothes that she had spent so much time perfecting dirty, and jogged over, knocking over a bucket but hardly noticing.

            "Nike!" He hissed, not wanting anyone else to hear him.  She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, clearly not wanting to talk to him, "we need to talk."

            She pushed herself back under the Pod.  He scowled and used the Force to pull her back out.

            "Your father's coming here," he told her.

            "What?"  She asked.

            "Your dad's coming to get you," he repeated, "but it gets worse.  Apparently your parents have put a bounty on you so they can find you faster."

            "So now I can't race," she said, "or they'll know who I am."

            "We could use code names!"  Ben came out of nowhere and said happily.  Sylor and Moria were right behind him.

            "Have you registered yet?"  Dame asked Nike.

            "No, I'm waiting for Nord, we have to register together," she told them.

            "Good, then put a different name down," he said.

            "But Nord will want to know why," Moria reminded them.

            "What will Nord want to know?"  Emperor's black bones! Dame thought as Nord came walking up, I've gotta start paying more attention!  People just keep sneaking up on me!

            "Er…well uh…" Nike said, everyone else was just about as literate.

            "Seein' how we're know each other for almost a week now, I'd figured ya'll'd be able to not lie to me," he said.  The children blushed in shame.

            "If Damian knows then he should know," Nike reasoned.

            "Um, yeah, Damian was the one who found out in the first place," Dame pointed out, waving his hand at her.

            "Stop chatting and start telling," Nord snapped.  Within minutes the entire story was told and Nord listened, only interrupting a few times to ask questions.  When they were done he nodded slowly before finally speaking.

            "So I could turn you over to your parents and get paid," he mused, rubbing his chin, and smiled when he saw the children tense, "but then I wouldn't be able to see Nike win the Boonta."  The girl beamed and Dame rolled his eyes.

            "Well we'd better get her signed up," Dame said, "Unless you want her to watch the race."

            "Come on then," Nord said, "let's go register, just think up a name before we get there."

*~*~*~*

            "Name?" The droid at the desk asked.

            "Chewie Loso," the hazel eyed, brown haired girl told replied.

            "You do know that humans can not race Pods," the droid asked.

            "Yeah, I know, now shut up and register me," Nike snapped.  If the droid could, it would have scowled at her, but instead just added her name to the race forum.  She briefly wondered if anyone would actually bet on her.  She had gotten her codename from her father's former partner and best friend, who had been a Wookie.  She had heard many stories about Chewbacca-more then she had her brother Anakin-and wished that she had gotten to meet him.  As so Loso, it was just her last name, but with the So and the Lo reversed.

            Nord talked to the droid, giving the model and year of the Pod, while Nike looked around.  The compound was full of aliens, Dugs, Twi'lek, Bothans, Jawas, and many others that she couldn't place.  She saw Sab'lou, screaming at the droids that were working on his Pod.  She then looked over to where her cousins and Damian, and Sylor were arguing with C-3P0 about something.

            "Alright Chewie," Nord said throwing a wink at her, causing her to smile, "let's get that Pod out there and ready to go."

*~*~*~*

            Moria and Damian watched a group of people make bets on different racers, and noted that none were going for Chewie Loso.

            "I can't believe that people actually bet on these things," Moria told Dame.

            "Gambling corrupts even the most genuine men," Dame said wisely.

            "Anyone who does this is just wasting their life away and will end up in debt and poverty."

            "Mo!  Dame!"  The pair turned to see Ben and Sylor running up to them.

            "You dolts are gonna get us shipped off to on the first transport to Coruscant if you don't stop using our names," Moria hissed at them.

            "Oh, my bad," Ben muttered, "anyway, guess what we did!"

            "What?"  She asked, not really interested.

            "We're gonna get a ship," he said with a huge smile.

            "What?!" She cried.  "How? We don't even have any money!"

            "That doesn't matter," Ben waved a hand at her, "we placed a bet on her.  She's nice, sleek, even got a cloaking device."

            "What is it?  A Star Destroyer?"  She snapped, "And what do you mean you placed a bet on her, what happens if you lose?"

            "We're not gonna lose," Sylor said confidently, "and if we do then we'll get off this planet as quickly as possible because this ship costs about as much as this whole planet."

            "My hair tie costs about as much as this planet," Moria told him, "and I can't believe you would stoop so low as to gamble."

            "Hey, Dame bet too and you're not jumping all over him," Ben said.  Moria looked over at Dame, who shrugged.

            "I said it wasn't wise, not that I don't do it," he told her.  She scowled.  "So what's this ship look like?"  Ben smiled and pulled out a little data pad out of his pocket.  He pressed a button and a small holograph of a ship appeared.

            "It's an older Corillian model," Sylor said, "She's got a hyperspace countdown of two point three seconds, two cockpits, and three gun rooms, as well as a sleeping quarters, living area-"

            "And a kitchen," Ben said.  Dame seemed very impressed by all this, and Moria could only scowl.

            "So what do you bet on?"  She asked him.

            "Just money," he shrugged, "There's a lot of different people I'm betting against."

            "What's the total?"  Sylor asked.

            "Something like three million."

            "Credits?"  Sylor and Ben cried at the same time.  Dame nodded.

            "Three million credits?"  Moria gasped, in some kind of daze.

            "Do you have enough money to reimburse if you lose?" Ben asked.

            "Yeah," Dame shrugged, "when my mom died she left all her money to me.  It's like, thirty three billion or something like that."  All three children stared at him with their mouths hanging open and their eyes popping out of their faces.

            "Thirty three billion?"  Moria hissed.

            "Yeah," Dame shrugged, "I'm rich."

            "No, Dame, that's not rich that's…Dame, there are kings who don't have that much money," Ben said.

            "Yeah, like the King of the Ewoks," Dame replied.

            "No, like the freaking king of Hapes!"  Ben screamed.

            "Actually, on Hapes the women-"

            "Shut up shut up shut up!" Ben yelled.  And then lowered his voice, "so where is all this money?"

            "Beats me," Dame shrugged.

            "You don't know?"  Sylor asked.  Dame shook his head.  "How can you not know?"

            "My dad threw the data pad with the directions to the money out the main hull of the space station," he said.

            "Thirty three billion credits," Sylor sighed.

            "That's enough money to buy my ship," Ben said.

            "That's enough money to buy Coruscant before the Yuuzhan Vong invaded," Moria replied.

            "Well I doubt that," Dame said.

            "I don't understand why money means so much to you humans," Threepio said, "it's just so materialist."

            "Well," Ben said, "we're living in a material world."

            "And I'm a material boy," Sylor said.

*~*~*~*

            The Mos Esra arena was huge.  All different species covered the stands, intermixed, none of them segregated.  Various creature pulled the Pods out to the starting line and the pilots began making last minute touches on their Racers.  One Pod floated in the air to it's starting point, and then sat down nicely.

            "Ben you idiot!"  Nike hissed, "I'm pretty sure that whoever is looking for us will know that you have the Force, and a floating Pod is a bit suspicious."

            "Stop being such a spaz," Damian told her, walking swiftly by.  He still wore the cape, and appeared completely oblivious to the fact that he looked like the stinking prince of Hapes.  Ben, Sylor and Moria followed him none of them finding a problem with floating a Pod around.

            And they say us Force-blind are naïve, She thought, scowling at them.  Zero rolled up next to her and she leaned against him on her arm.

            "You've got more brains then them," she said.  Zero tootled a reply and she smiled, happy that she still had the little droid.

            "Alright Chewie," Damian said as Nike settled into the Pod, "don't die, and win, I got a lot of money riding on you winning this."

            "Then I'll be sure to lose," she told him.  He rolled his eyes and handed her her helmet.

            "Break a leg," he said dryly.

            "You lose and I'll run you over with the Pod," Nord told her.

            "If you do die, can I have Zero?" Ben asked.

            "So what exactly does your will say?" Sylor asked.

            "Now don't die," Threepio said, "because I'll be the one stuck explaining it Master Han."

            Nike sat through all their comments until they finally left to their seats.  She glanced over at the Pod beside her.  It was Sab'lou.  He looked at her and said something in his language that she couldn't understand, but knew it wasn't anything nice.

            "You're going down!"  She screamed at him, which wasn't the greatest kind of threat, but was something that her father would have said.  The announcer went on about the race and how it was three laps, and how with was the whatever year annual race.  Finally, he said, "Racers, start your engines."

            Nike did so, and the power of the Pod rumbled under her and shook.  The race would start at the sound of the gong.  Nike waited and waited, listening for the sound that would commence the race.

            The blood ran through her body at lightspeed.  There was an flittering feeling in the pit of her stomach that was both excited and nervous.  She took in a deep breath, trying to relax herself with some kind of trick that Uncle Luke had taught her, even though she wasn't a Jedi.

            And then there was the gong.

            Nike's reflexes weren't as fast as the other alien pilots, and so they surged forward just a second before she pushed down on the accelerators and shot forward.

            It wasn't just the beginning of a race.  But the beginning of her destiny.