The news had been devastating. Rick would never race again. Don Wei didn't realize how much this news would effect him until he had downed his third bottle of some local alien hooch. This stuff was good; one almost forgot he was drinking.

Don Wei opened up a 4th bottle and began to drink.

Now that Rick was out of the picture, Don Wei had no choice but to rely on the pesky stowaway, Molly. There was something about that girl that did not sit well with Don Wei. She was always getting herself into trouble and into places she did not belong. A woman did not belong on the race track. A woman's place was far, far away.

Far away…

Don Wei started on his 5th bottle.

Drinking problem? What drinking problem? Don Wei had no drinking problem. He could stop anytime he wanted to, he just didn't want to. Memories kept flooding back to him, memories long thought dead and buried. He thought back to the fateful day when his beloved wife had raced her last race. How tragic it was, to sit there with his little daughter, seeing the love of his life go up in flames.

Eva. Sweet little Eva. How he regretted ever taking her to that boarding school. He had to keep reminding himself that it was for the best. If Eva was in that boarding school there would be no way she could ever, ever, set foot on a race track. She'd never suffer the fate of her poor mother.

His beloved wife.

Don Wei was starting on his 6th bottle.

It was amazing how clear things got when one was so smashed he couldn't stand up straight. Don Wei laid in the soft, green grass outside the Earth team's hanger. The night was cool, the skies clear. The stars were amazingly beautiful here on this new planet. Constellations he had never seen laid out before him. Things were so clear...

There were footsteps not too far away from him, he heard the grass go skush, skush, skush with each step.

"M-Mr. Wei?", came a familiar, young voice. It was Molly.

Don Wei sat up suddenly, an empty bottle rolling away from him. "What is it?" he said with his best attempt at sounding sober and uninterested.

"Are you okay, da -er, Mr. Wei?" Molly asked.

"What would make you think I wasn't?" Don Wei snapped.

Molly winced at his rather harsh tone of voice. "You've been drinking. I, I saw you from the window."

Don Wei was annoyed with her presence. She reminded him way too much of his dead wife. He turned and looked at her.

"You remind me of my dead wife", he said point-blank.

Molly's eyes went wide with surprise. Perhaps, finally, he recognized her for who she truly was?

"You're very pretty, Molly. Just like she was."

The smile on his face and look in his eye sent a shiver up Molly's spine. He obviously didn't realize who she was or he wouldn't... be looking at her like that!

"Tell me Molly, am I attractive? Is an old guy like me still hot for the ladies?"

Molly turned blood red all over. Saints above! Her, her father was... hitting on her? She felt sick!

Don Wei stood up, putting a hand on the shoulder of the flushed and nauseated Molly.

"What do you say, Moll, wanna have a drink with yer ol' pal Don?" He grinned at her like any man would grin to a pretty young lady.

Molly couldn't take it anymore, this was too weird, too gross, too.. WRONG! She slapped his hand off her shoulder, the trauma building to dangerous levels inside her mind.

"NO!", she shouted, her voice distressed and disturbed. Molly ran away from her father as quickly as her feet would carry her.

Don Wei watched Molly run away from him. Oh dear, maybe he was too old for girls her age. Ah, life, so fleeting. Here one minute, gone the next. Just like his wife... and his looks.

Don Wei plopped down into the grass and opened his 7th bottle.