The title for this chapter comes from a phrase used two weeks a year in the area where I grew up; one of the most popular NASCAR tracks on the circuit is just a couple of miles down the road from where I used to work.
Whispers of Menace
A Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace Alternate Universe
Chapter Ten:
It's Racin' Time on Tatooine!
Kitster showed up bright and early with the pair of eopies to tow Anakin's podracer to the arena hangers. There, it would get a cursory 'inspection,' and wealthy fans would get a chance for a closer look.
Not that I really expected anyone to be interested in our entry until after the race.
Anakin and I made a brief stop to deliver the cooling unit to the old woman at the market, and she gladly loaded us down with pallies for everyone in thanks. I certainly didn't mind a little extra fuel in my stomach.
"I warn you, no funny business." I looked up from the snack in my hand to see Watto talking to Qui-Gon over by Sebulba's section of the hangar. The Dug was getting a massage from a pair of Rutian Twi'lek slaves, the turquoise-skinned girls dressed in barely-decent yellow mesh outfits. Matching ones, of course, and the girls were either twins or carefully paired to look it.
"You don't think that Anakin will win?" I smirked from atop one engine, wondering how much Master Jinn would be able to get out of the Toydarian.
"Don't get me wrong-o, I have great faith in da boy. He's a credit to your race, but Sebulba there is going ta win, I think." Ah, yet another being who would get a rude awakening soon.
"Why do you think that?"
"He always wins," Watto replied with a laugh. "I'm betting heavily on Sebulba."
"I'll take that bet." All noise in their immediate vicinity ceased.
"You what?"
"I'll wager my new racing pod against, say, the boy and his mother."
"A pod for slaves? I don't think so." Then the small shopkeeper seemed to consider how much the pod would be worth, if it wasn't wrecked. "Well… perhaps. Just one, da mother, though. Da boy isn't for sale."
"He's small, he can't be worth much." I sighed. The older Jedi was displaying his naïveté about slavery again; skilled workers of Anakin's caliber were usually much older, and worth more than their own weight in platinum. As little as my friend was, it'd have to be Corusca gems. "For the fastest pod ever built?" Still, Watto shook his head no. "Both, or no bet," Qui-Gon finally demanded.
"No pod's worth two slaves, not by a long shot. One slave, or nothing."
"The boy, then."
"I think we'll let fate decide, hmm?" the junk dealer said, holding up a cheap chance cube. I saw two blue sides, the others red, and from the way he was holding it, it had to be weighted so that it would come up red on every roll. "Blue, it's da boy; red, his mother." The die was cast, and a tiny Force-nudge from my comrade tipped it one face farther than it would have gone otherwise, to blue. Watto snatched it back up, furious. "You won da small toss, outlander, but you won't win da race. So it makes little difference." I stifled an amused snort as he flapped past me and toward Anakin.
"[Better stop your friend's betting, or I'll end up owning him, too,]" he told the kid snidely before leaving.
"What did he mean by that?" Curious blue eyes turned to me.
"Nothing you need to worry about," I replied. I finished off my pallie just as Qui-Gon rejoined us. Tossing another at him, I slid to the ground. "I'll be back shortly, just need to take care of a couple of errands. You're on watch." Shoulder to shoulder with the man, I paused briefly. "Nobody but our group gets near the pod or my Padawan. Understood?" The brisk nod in response reassured me.
My first stop was an electronics vendor; I selected a pair of headsets, some button holocameras, and a master recorder that would gather the signals from the other devices. They were cheap, but of decent quality, and I knew the vids from them would be priceless. I owed Dex, not only for introducing me to the world of podracing, but also for being one of my few real friends. He'd definitely appreciate this gift.
Then I headed for the bookies, getting some rather strange looks for betting on 'the local kid' at thirty-to-one odds. I figured that many of the resident gamblers were familiar with who and what Anakin was; I'd only heard of the Boonta Eve Classic a few times, including from Dex, and the broadcasts had never gotten as far as Coruscant. Nobody batted an eye at my method of payment, at least.
I returned just in time to set up the equipment before the pods were hauled out onto the track. My little buddy didn't question what I was doing, but when I tucked a headset into his helmet, he gave me a knowing smile.
Fode and Beed, the podracing circuit's famed two-headed commentator, could be heard booming their welcome as the parade of pilots and crews emerged from the hangar. C-3PO led our contingent, holding Artoo's banner aloft. The cloth rippled in the wind, the blue-and-white design matching the one on Anakin's pod, with a bar of the yellow from the engines on the loose end of the cloth.
"[Greetings, greetings,]" Fode cried in Huttese. "[We have perfect weather today for the Boonta Eve Classic, the most hazardous of all podraces!]"
"That's absolutely right," Beed continued in Basic. "And it's a big turnout here, from all corners of the Outer Rim Territories. I see the contestants are making their way onto the starting grid."
With the other pilots and crew chiefs, I strode into the sunslight, one hand on Ani's shoulder as we lined up in front of a specific luxury seating box. Between the decadent furnishings and the size, it belonged to a Hutt. Echoing the starting grid layout, I mimicked the other crew chiefs in standing behind my pilot, waiting to honor the local host while the pods were set up and the racers were introduced to the crowd.
"[Yes, there they are!]"
"I see Ben Quadinaros, from the Tund system."
"[And Gasgano with the new Ord Podrovia.]"
"There's two-time winner, Boles Roor."
"[On the front line, the reigning champion, Sebulba of Pixelito! By far today's favorite.]" The Dug ate up the crowd's cheering.
"And we have a late entry, young Anakin Skywalker, a local boy." The kid waved.
"[I hope he has better luck this time.]"
"And now the flaggers are moving onto the track." Banners cracked in the stiff wind as Jabba the Hutt, followed by his mate, Gardulla, slithered into the box. We all bowed dutifully as they waved.
"[His honor, our glorious host, Jabba the Hutt, has entered the arena.]" The race fans roared.
"[Welcome!]" As the overgrown slug called names, people peeled out of the lineup to head for pods and pits. "[Ben Quadinaros of Tund. Ody Mandrell of Tatooine. Wan Sandage of Ord Radama. Neva Kee of Xagobah. Ark Roose of Sump. Xelbree of Kinooine. Mars Guo of Phu. Elan Mak of Ploo IV. Teemto Pagalies of Moonus Mandel. Boles Roor of Sneeve. Gasgano of Troiken. Ebe E. Endocott of Triffis. Clegg Holdfast of New Plympto. Anakin Skywalker of Tatooine…]" We ran toward the smallest vehicle on the track as he continued, to where our friends were waiting.
"Be safe," Shmi pleaded, hugging her son.
"I will, Mom, I promise."
"Dis berry loony, Ani. May da guds be kind, meesa pal-o."
"You carry all our hopes." The boy lit up at Padmé's words.
"I won't let you down."
Then Sebulba sidled up, a vicious grin on his face. I erected an invisible wall around pod and pilot, and the Dug appeared a bit confused as to why he couldn't get any closer.
"[You won't walk away from this one, slave scum!]"
"[Don't count on it, slime-ball,]" Ani retorted. His glance at me said that he'd noticed my use of the Force.
"[You're bantha poodoo!]" came the uninventive reply.
"[We'll see who still has a pod in three laps.]" The 'champion' sneered at me and stalked off as I turned to hoist my buddy onto his machine and the others retreated to a skybox. The little blond slipped into the seat and began to strap in. "All set?" He nodded. "Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Use your instincts." Then I ruffled his hair and smiled. "May the Force be with you." I backed away as he pulled on his helmet and goggles, then turned and jogged toward our pit, where Kitster waited with a viewscreen.
"Will he be all right?" the boy asked worriedly, handing me the second headset.
"He'll be fine!"
"[The power couplings are being activated,]" Fode announced as binders crackled to life.
"And it looks like they're clearing the grid." Beed paused until the last stragglers were out of the way. "Start your engines!" The mechanical roar was nearly deafening, and I watched the orange-edged blue flames streaming from Ani's engines critically.
"Don't open the throttle too fast," I reminded him over the headset.
"Or I'll flood and stall," he finished, having heard the warning several times already. We weren't exactly sure how fast was too fast, though, since we hadn't had the time or space to test the podracer. It would have taken days to put her through her paces, perhaps a week or more.
A bridge over the track held the signal lights, and a green one blinked. The viewer showed Jabba biting the head off a small amphibian, then spitting it at a gong. The light stopped blinking to burn steadily at the same moment to signal the start.
Racers shot away with a scream of engines. A few swerved around Ani as his right engine coughed up a cloud of black smoke, but the issue was only momentary; he was off in an instant, right on their heels. Quadinaros alone was left on the starting grid, his four engines not cooperating.
It was a very weird design.
"[And they're off!]"
"Looks like little Skywalker almost stalled there. He's behind the rest of the pack, and will have difficulty getting through traffic." Beed, of course, had no idea just how much power those compact engines could produce.
The track's main cameras followed the leaders through the first turns. For a while, it was all Mawhonic and Sebulba, the pair trading paint over a third of the course. But finally, the Dug forced his rival into a rock formation, and the big orange pod was on its own again.
Meanwhile, on my own screens, Anakin slid past Sandage and Kee easily, neither pilot seeming to even notice his presence until he was ahead of them. Dud Bolt fell next, my young friend sliding between him and the near side of a canyon turn. Then he was inside the caves, the dark walls intermittently revealed by flashes of engine flame. Out again into the nearly-blinding sunslight, wheeling gently to port in a sweeping, sand-filled canyon half a kilometer wide.
Blaster fire sounded, and the track cameras focused on the source, revealing four rifle-toting figures swathed in dust-colored cloth.
"Looks like a few Tusken Raiders have camped out on the Canyon Dune Turn," Beed commented. A shot ricocheted off the tail of Anakin's control pod without phasing him in the least. It seemed to me that this had to be a common issue.
Xelbree challenged Sebulba as they moved into a sharper starboard bend, the inner wall so jagged that their avoidance of it made sense. The second-place racer tried to move above, only for the leader to move up in his way. The Dug backed off his throttle a hair, and when Xelbree moved up on his right, a brief flash made him flinch straight into the rocky cliff. Vent ports, I figured.
A pod ahead of my Padawan faltered, one piece headed inexorably for the smaller racer. It fell short of the control section, but only just, instead catching the cable attached to the starboard engine. As quickly as that, Ani was spinning out of control on one tether, digging frantically until he came up with a pole-like tool. He had to slow down as he extended the object toward the loose cable end, but quickly grabbed it and set the end back where it belonged. Bolt and Holdfast had taken advantage of his issue to pass him, but soon the young human was right on their tails again.
By then, I could see the plume of sand being kicked up out on the Hutt Flats as racers approached the arena. Quadinaros' engines chose that moment to start up with a distracting roar, the power couplings crackling unusually loudly for a second before failing entirely, and the four jet engines chose four different directions in which to sail off before exploding.
"There go Quadinaros' power couplings!" One camera showed the pilot pounding his fists on the control pod in frustration.
"[And here comes Sebulba in record time!]"
"Record lap for the sleemo," I relayed to Ani. "Think you can make up the distance in lap two?" The leaders thundered by as a pod just ahead of my friend clipped the top of a dune with one engine and began trailing smoke. I cringed involuntarily.
"Of course I can!" There was a brief pause as the small pod rocketed through the arena and back toward Waldo Grade. "How far behind am I?"
"Less than ten seconds, buddy." I grinned as his enthusiasm bubbled over our bond.
"It looks like Skywalker is moving up the field," said Beed, sounding surprised by how much ground the kid had gained. "He's in…"
"[Sixth place. Not bad,]" Fode finished.
"Four of them between you," I added. "Go get 'im!"
The pod that had clipped the dune pulled into the pits next to the fuming Quadinaros, who was still strapped in, probably waiting for everyone to get through before getting out of the protection of sheet metal and repulsors.
"[Ody Mandrell into the pits for some attention.]" A droid, apparently of the same type that had gotten Jar Jar into trouble at Watto's shop that first day, moved up to inspect the damaged engine and got sucked inside, spit out the back end virtually unharmed. The larger piece of equipment, however, coughed and died.
Out on the Mushroom Flats, Anakin caught up to Gasgano, trying to pass on the right and finding himself blocked. An attempt on the left was similarly thwarted, and the pair slid across the desert floor like a krayt dragon chasing a womp rat. But Metta Drop hove into view, and the smaller racer slowed as if to make a drop shift. The Xexto looked back, checking Ani's position, then made the drop first. The next instant, the boy's thruster bars were shoved as far forward as they would go, and he soared over the astonished veteran racer on to Ebe Crater Valley.
He whipped through Beggar's Canyon next, surprising Aldar Beedo when he slipped past by the narrowest of margins emerging onto the Plain. Tyerell beat him into the Whip by a quarter-second, and the close quarters kept them that way into the caves. Halfway through, fire blossomed in the darkness, and Anakin was forced to go straight through it. I winced. A pity it had been Tyerell; he was a gentleman, for a podracer, and there would be no rescue for him from inside Laguna Cave. The relief crews refused to enter for fear of the krayt dragon that laired inside.
Pagalies, too, lost his vehicle when one of the Tuskens on the Canyon Dune Turn got a lucky hit. That left Sebulba and Ani out front, with nine others trailing behind at increasing intervals. The two fierce rivals screamed through the arena with less than a hundred meters between them.
"At the start of the third and final lap, Sebulba is in the lead, followed closely by Skywalker!"
Daringly, my buddy pulled up alongside the Dug in Beggar's Canyon, obviously attempting to pass the larger pod. A button holocamera showed the flare of a vent port on my screen, and the responding crackle of the shields. Unfortunately, physics pushed the lighter craft off course just a bit. A line of warning beacons got shorter as the power couplings sheared off their tops, and people scrambled away from a barrier just before the tiny pod burst through it.
"Skywalker is forced onto the service ramp!"
"[Oh no!]" Even from the pits, I could see the minute speck shoot into the sky above the surrounding cliffs. But the boy kept his cool, flicking a few switches and then shoving the thruster bars forward as he dove back into the canyon.
Ahead of Sebulba.
"Amazing! A controlled thrust, and he's back on course with the lead! What a move!" That would certainly be talked about for years to come.
Sebulba got ahead again as they crossed the Desert Plain and threaded Arch Canyon, but Ani was only ten meters behind as they entered the caverns for the final time. They emerged side by side, only to be forced back into single file through the Coil, Jett's Chase, and the Corkscrew. The kid went low and flat through the Devil's Doorknob for a change, his pod small enough that he didn't have to shed speed to flip onto one side before he could fit through the tiny gap.
"He's catching Sebulba!"
"[Incredible!]"
The orange podracer slammed into him again and again as they skimmed the sands, until finally they got stuck together, locked steering rods barely in view on a button holocamera.
"That little human being is out of his mind!"
"[They're neck and neck!]"
"They're side by side!"
"[Shoulder to shoulder!]"
~I'm glad they're having fun with this,~ I thought sourly, watching Anakin struggle to free his vehicle. As it was, Sebulba would win, since his steering rods were set further aft.
But they parted ways with a jerk, and the larger racer slammed into a stone arch, leaving the control pod to skip and skid to a halt in the sand. Barely maintaining control as he sped into the arena, Ani reversed the engines' thrust and splayed the control paddles, effectively killing all forward motion.
In the midst of the cheering, I dropped the hardy recording equipment and ran toward the tiny pod. Others followed behind me, but I didn't care, too intent on my Padawan's well-being.
I'm fine, Serra, I'm fine! his voice said from the corner of my mind where our bond now lived.
"It's Skywalker!" Beed cried over the speakers. "The crowd is going nuts! Ooh, aah, ooh, aah!"
"You did it!" He started to climb out of the pod, and I caught him under the arms and swung him around, grin splitting my face. "You won!"
It hadn't taken long, really, but the race had been nerve-wracking. All our hard work had paid off, and for now, we would celebrate.