The room was dark. After all, why would the Vulkars spare energy on compact slave pits? I stepped over the dead guard, searching the walls of chains and bodies. There were too many people here...and all of them were giving me the eyes of hope I had seen in Mission before. Was I here to save all of them? Could I even do that after I just tried saving one of them and she died as a result?

I bit my lip as I avoided those pleading eyes. I was only there for one walking carpet...the sad-looking humans and Twi'lek broke my cold heart to pieces.

The Wookiee was in the corner, looking down at his chains. Half of an arm laid at his feet and I began to wonder what Zaalbar had done while he was imprisoned.

"Hey..." I began.

The slaves around me pled in their languages and I tried to look away again.

Zaalbar looked up and his eyes shone with hope yet suspicion.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

His bindings were tight and shined like it had shields woven into the metal. I took out the key that the guard had and unlocked the chains slowly, glancing behind my back.

"Rescuing you."

The chains fell to the ground and the Wookiee rubbed his fur wrists. I glanced around the prison, holding up my blaster, ready to shoot the next goon that decided to join us.

"Rescue me?" the Wookiee asked. "Why? And where is Mission? If she's been hurt—"

"She's fine. But we have to hurry. I haven't exactly been watching my back—"

"You!"

I shot blindly towards the opened doors. It would have hit too if the Twi'lek hadn't ducked. I took a few steps backward and ran into Zaalbar as I tried to find cover after the Vulkars discovered my location.

I had been careful the entire trip up. No one was looking in the slave pens for their intruders. Why would they when they stored all their credits somewhere else? Of course...there was still the issue concerning escaping this "base."

I glanced towards the weaponless Wookiee and cursed after we were shot at again.

And then, a dark thought...

If you release the slaves, then they could distract those Vulkars from you and the Wookiee. They want to be free. Why not give them the opportunity?

My face contorted in horror at that thought of that...strangely methodical plan. The slaves could die...but, it was something. And they could also be free if they survived. Quickly, I threw the keys to the slaves. They shouted with joy and began to unlock each other. The blaster bolts brought me back to the reality of combat. I shot back at them, hitting the Twi'lek arm. He shouted and I smirked...but three more bolts came from beyond the door.

"The cargo is escaping!"

The freed slaves began to charge at the Vulkars and a few were hit in the crossfire.

"Shit," I muttered, taking another charger from my pack and reloading. These damn Vulkars...they will rue the day they made me an enemy.

I felt a heavy claw on my shoulder and looked up to the Wookiee. He growled a war cry and ran out of cover. Was this carpet insane? They were still shooting—!

Fortunately, I didn't have to worry for long. Zaalbar grabbed a metal pipe then tore it from the wall. The Vulkars were reloading when the wild beast struck like that rancor, shouts of pure terror pierced the air of the large room. The slaves trampled past until, eventually, the room had become empty. The screams from both the Vulkars and the slaves called in the distance. When Zaalbar's woolly head poked out like a wack-a-tach, I grinned, shaking my head at the audacious yet quiet beast.

"Warn me before you do something like that, okay? I almost shot your furry ass..."

"You were taking too long."

So, this Zaalbar was crazy and impatient? We had a lot more in common than I thought.

I rubbed the back of my head as I gazed around the empty slave pens. A few dead bodies of those slaves were marked with blaster burns. Had it been worth it?

Zaalbar must have noticed my distraction. "Come on, let's get out of here..."

Sniffling. Some...sensation pulled me towards the corner. I didn't hesitate and walked towards the sound.

The Wookiee called out. "Where are you going? We have to run!"

A young boy who hadn't been passed the keys sat in the corner with wide blue eyes. How could they have left this kid behind? Though...it had probably been for the best that he hadn't been a part of the ensuing action. I found the keys then began to work at the bindings. His young eyes looking up at me with joy. I smiled back at him until I felt a large paw grab my shoulder. "We have to leave. Releasing the slaves as a distraction was...quick thinking. But we don't have much time to waste."

My heart seemed to tug when I heard his words and knew that they were true. But still...I shrugged his paw off of my shoulder and continued to help the boy. I just wanted to save one...just one. His chains fell off of his wrists and I lifted the small boy up and handed him to the Wookiee to carry.

"What are—?"

"We can help this one at least?"

Zaalbar growled a confirmation, though he didn't look happy that he had to carry something.

We entered the hallways once more and towards the sounds of chaos. The beaten bodies of the Vulkars were strewn all along the walls. When the Wookiee caught up with the quiet boy in his hands, he growled in awe at the slaves path of destruction. He then told me to slow down but I was too focused on finding Brejik. And killing him. I will go up to the top level and find that bastard—kill him and all of his Vulkars—then find Bastila. Somehow. Once Brejik died, he wouldn't enslave more of those poor people. Only then.

I was slammed against the wall. My face was red with anger when I looked up at the furball. That hurt damn it!

"Where are you going? The elevator's in the other direction!" the Wookiee shouted at me. I struggled in the furball's grip but failed miserably.

"I'm going to kill that bastard Brejik, that's what," I muttered darkly at him.

The Wookiee slammed me down again as if trying to remind me that I couldn't escape.

"And what will that accomplish? There are hundreds of Vulkars in the way. You will die before you could even see his face!"

The boy at his side was staring up at me in fright and just the innocent look on his face made me pause. He probably thought the Wookiee was attacking me.

I growled back at Zaalbar. "Of course I'm not going to see his face...because he's not going to see mine when I stab him in the back."

I was slammed again and the boy suddenly reached out to the Wookiee and tugged at his fur. The words that came out of his mouth were surprisingly foreign...I couldn't place the language that he was speaking. Wait...there was a language that even I didn't know? Even though I didn't understand what he was saying, he looked frantic...tugging at the Wookiee, tears spilling out of his eyes.

I relaxed when Zaalbar finally released me. His dark eyes stared down at the little one. I twisted around again towards the red engulfed hall. Now was my chance!

Without another word, I found that my feet were being lifted off the ground.

"What the—put me down!" I shouted, squirming. Damn...this Wookiee was strong. I certainly didn't weigh the same as that kid.

"I will not let you kill yourself. If I am to swear a life debt onto you then I don't want you dying in the meantime."

Wait...life debt? As in...a walking carpet following my heels for the rest of my days? I paused in my struggles to look behind my shoulder at the Wookiee. His bear-like face scrunched up in pain. When we were before the elevators, I was thrown onto the ground and I groaning in pain as the floor connected with my knees. Kriff...this Wookiee had a habit of not giving out warnings.

I stood and rubbed my knees.

"Life debt? Are you—?" The boy ran up and grabbed my legs. I hissed when he hit my injured knees. "...serious?"

The Wookiee wasn't able to answer me when a few red beams of light chased after us. I cursed, pushing the boy beyond the corner, the furball following us behind the cover. I forgot all about Brejik and began worrying about this foreign boy's safety. I couldn't let him die, not like that girl. I would only feel more guilty about everything.

The boy was sniffing as I shot towards the Vulkars who had just come out of an elevator. An elevator. That was our ticket out of here.

I hit a Rodian in the groin and he fell to the Wookiee's blaster rifle—one that he probably took from a dead guard. The rest of the gang members only seemed to get angry at their friend being shot. A grenade was sent flying from one of their hands. I turned on my shield, jumping over the boy, and shouted towards Zaalbar to duck.

The blast was blinding. I was so dazed that I probably looked drunk as I tried glancing amidst the white fog. Something tugged at my arm. A language I didn't understand shouting at me. I was still shooting though. I can't just rely on my sense of sight. I have to use...my other senses to defend myself, including this boy now. The hallway's contrast suddenly darkened and I swerved my head around only to be tackled from beyond the mists.

I grunted as a knife descended down towards me, I grabbed the Twi'lek arm and blinked a few times. The young boy was shouting at me, yet I couldn't really do anything about him since I was going to be slaughtered by this bloodthirsty Vulkar.

He laughed. "You're not a Bek, that's for sure," he said lowly.

I saw red streaks above me, I twisted the Twi'lek wrist away from my face. The green alien was laughing at me still, the knife descending. My strength was starting to falter and I knew that I wouldn't be able to hold back this Vulkar for long...

However, those laughs turned into screams when the weight above me flew to the side and into the wall. A furry leg replaced the Twi'lek and I grinned painfully as I gave the Wookiee a relieved look.

The green alien coughed out blood when I tackled him myself, placing the cold barrel of my blaster on his face. A single shot and he grew still, eyes blank with death. I inhaled before getting up to my feet. That flash grenade seemed to have cleared my head of stupidity. We needed to get out of here.

The poor slave boy was scrunched up into a ball and I had to lift him up like a doll in order to get him motivated again. He clung to me like a little tach. I really wanted to hand him over to the Wookiee again but he didn't seem to be wanting to let go. Kriff, I wasn't his damn mother. If Carth saw this...

The Wookiee was already inside the elevator, messing with the control panel. When I entered, the doors hissed closed. He used a Wookiee word that I didn't understand so I tilted my head.

"A password," he muttered. "These Vulkars..."

"Then just hack it," I said, slapping the elevator as it tried to open. I could hear shouting down the hall and my clothes were gradually getting wet with salt tears. The Wookiee saw my humorless look and shook his head, canceling the Vulkars request to get inside the elevator. Then, he pushed randomly at the screen—hopefully hacking into the system. Eventually, the elevator began to move. I sighed in relief as we finally escaped that hellhole.

The boy that clung to me tightly looked down onto the floor sadly yet calmly, probably hearing my dropped heart rate.

I had saved someone. Two maybe more if some of the slaves managed to escape. The boy slackened and I dropped him to the ground, his naïve eyes looking up to me.

Yet...I didn't have the courage to look down.

"Big Z!" the blue Twi'lek shouted, tackling the Wookiee with a fierce hug.

When we entered the Bek base, we were directed to the med bay where Mission was looking after the commander. Apparently, his wounds had been enough to warrant the rare dip inside a kolto tank. Of course...not enough words would be enough to thank the Hidden Bek leader for giving Carth that expensive treatment.

"Aw, who's this little guy?" Mission asked, jumping from the large furry wall to the scared little boy who held onto my leg too tightly. My circulation was starting to stop, a tingling sensation vibrating in my thigh. I grunted, grabbing the boy's arms and pulling them off my leg before I needed serious treatment myself.

"I don't really know his name, but we found him in the Vulkar base. He was..."

My sad eyes looked down to him yet his round eyes were giving Mission a curious look. I looked away as Mission bent down low to the kid's height. I didn't want to even mention that horror of a slave pen to the young Twi'lek...but apparently, the lack of my words was enough.

She frowned. "Oh...well don't worry! You're safe with the Hidden Beks!"

Mission jumped up, all perky again. She really wanted to cheer up this little boy, didn't she? I stiffened when I a large force grab ahold of me. The blue Twi'lek was hugging me and even though she was probably half my mass was beginning to suffocate me. My face tightened.

"Thank you so much, Wessy! I thought...well...I knew you were a softy on the inside!" I glared down at her and she released me with a huff. "Well, fine Mister Serious-Face, I won't hug you. You're worse than the old geezer..."

My mouth twisted in humor. "You mean Carth?"

Mission rolled her eyes as she walked forward, being trailed by the large Wookiee. The little boy grabbed my pant leg again and I narrowed my eyes at his clingy nature. Was I really that motherly looking to this little kid? I doubted that my face appeared kind or nurturing...

Carth laid on one of the few med bay cots and watched us with that dull expression on his face as we entered. The smell of salty kolto hit my nose like strong alcohol. The commander's arm was in a sling and his face scratched up yet he somehow looked better than when I last left him.

"I thought you wouldn't come back," he said, sitting up.

"Have a little faith in me, commander," I said. "Despite the mounting odds I faced, I'm not that incapable."

"No, I thought you were going to run off. You didn't look...happy about the prospects."

I crossing my arms.

"Well...I didn't. Will that get you off of my back now?"

He laid in his bed, looking up to Mission who was smirking at the pilot. I narrowed my eyes at the strange companionship they were showing. Before, I was worried that the Twi'lek would rip Carth's throat out if I left them alone together, but it seemed as if they were beginning to get along.

The boy muttered something in his language and I looked down at him. The Republic soldier finally realized there was someone below his bed.

"Who—?"

"From the Vulkar base. I don't want to talk about it."

Zaalbar growled a sad phrase towards the boy. Carth nodded a few times, appearing as if he didn't want to get too into the nitty-gritty details of my exploits within the base. I certainly didn't feel comfortable giving those details out.

Suddenly, Carth sat up and his expression dropped. "The race..."

I sighed. That was going to start in a few hours. When we first walked in, swoops of all sizes were being towed out and their riders were giving us nervous looks. Without winning that race, we wouldn't stand a chance of getting the Jedi back.

Which meant... I did not like the look the soldier was giving me. No. Not in any hell.

"You have to race, Wes," he said, those unwanted words coming out of his mouth. "Do you think I can in this condition? I just...I might not have trusted you with this before, but I do now. You are the only hope we have of getting Bastila back. And I mean it."

Only hope. That sounded familiar. Wasn't that what Bastila was to the Republic? And now I was the only hope the galaxy had?

That was a lot of pressure to put on one man's shoulders, not to mention the Jedi's. Did this soldier even know what he was saying? Who he was talking to? And the Sith...did he mean for me to fight those bastards back too? How could I even do that? I was only one man—a beaten-down smuggler in fact.

Damn it.

My face grew red and I looked between the two angrily, the boy shook as if he could sense my annoyance. I pointed at the commander, my mouth half opened before I turned around, closing it. What was I supposed to say? Okay, I'll go out there and get myself killed! Sure!

The state of those slaves came back to me and the anger I felt to kill Brejik returned.

I stormed out of the med bay without another word to Carth. The boy released my leg yet followed close behind like a small shadow. Mission followed me as well. The Wookiee trailed farther away. The blue Twi'lek was a quick one though. Her hand grabbed my shoulder.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

Everyone always seemed so concerned about where I was going. What if I just wanted to be left alone?

I twisted around and tried to calm my anger as I responded.

"I'm going to find that ticking time bomb of a swoop. Now, if you don't know where it is...then I'll be on my way." I turned around, pausing to throw my face around to the Twi'lek again. "And you still owe me 1,000 credits."

The Lower City Arena consisted of old speeder roads and deck chairs all lined up on ancient bleachers. Those seats were starting to fill up and I was only just now beginning to feel the pressure. Zax, a hutt that ruled over the Lower City, laughed at me when I said that I was going to race for the Beks.

"You do know that I have overwhelming bets placed for the Vulkars—specifically Redros—on winning this race, right?" he spoke in his disgusting language. "You sure you don't want to change sides?"

I grinned. "I'm sure you tell that to everyone, Hutt. And believe me, I already feel the overwhelming odds. You don't have to tell me again."

The Hutt narrowed his yellow crusted eyes and I retreated before he could spit at me. I couldn't stand being close to that filthy thing.

Stomping towards the garages, I spotted over the crowds of people Vulkar uniforms and a tall shielded cage. I frowned as I casually walked in that direction, fitting my hands inside my pant pockets. I was shoved from behind as I tried to make my way towards the Vulkars—too many people wanted to see what was in that cage.

Bastila.

She looked half-conscious, a collar buzzed dangerously around her neck. I swallowed as I saw the bruises along her legs then paused when I saw the...revealing outfit these Vulkars put on her.

I knew that they were making her do something humiliating.

When the Vulkars huffed, I realized that I was staring for too long at their prize. Muttering something inane to myself, I ducked into the crowd towards the garage. I was there to race for the Jedi...and for nothing else. My heart began to pang with nerves and adrenaline again. So much so that I didn't realize where I was going and ran into a tall red armored alien.

He glared down at me. "Watch where you're going, rookie."

I grimaced but otherwise stepped out of his way. He was in a bad mood, wasn't he? I shrugged as I entered the cool swoop garage, and found the Bek's Ithorian mechanic. He was tutting me as he went over my swoop with a datapad.

"You don't even have a chance of getting through half the race without something blowing off from within the accelerator," he said, shaking his hammerhead. I patted one of the duel engines.

"I could still try though, right?" I asked.

"Not unless you go at a Hutt's speed. You would lose the race anyway."

I grabbed the datapad from the Ithorian's grip. The accelerator was red on the swoop's map, glowing hotter when the engines revved. Well...there went my chances of living through this. I should just back out now...

A Wookiee accompanied by a Twi'lek entered the hanger. I narrowed my eyes as I shoved the datapad back to the Ithorian.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered harshly.

Mission placed her hands on her hips. "I'm not a kid. And we wanted to wish you luck before the race. Is there anything wrong with that?"

I glared up at the Wookiee then at the kid. They had to have also brought the kid? I rubbed my forehead of the tension that appeared. Along with a headache. As if I wasn't stressed out enough...

"No...there is plenty wrong with that. It's dangerous. There are Vulkars—"

"You do know that all gang violence is called off during a swoop race, right? We are as safe here as we were in the base."

"But Mission..." Zaalbar interjected.

She twisted around to face the carpet.

"No Big Z, I won't hear it. We can't just make Wessy race without our loving support."

I really doubted their "loving support" would stop an accelerator from collapsing within itself.

The boy within the Wookiee's arms was speaking rapidly. He fell to the floor and looked up at me with bright eyes.

Ugh...

"Well, take your loving support out of the hanger," I said, waving them away like Alderaan royalty. Mission's face scrunched up and she grabbed the little boy's hand like a spoiled brat who didn't get that fancy albino gizka she always wanted.

"Well fine. I was going to tell you to break a leg...but now, please. Go ahead and break one. Literally."

The boy twisted around to stare back at me. Zaalbar growled sympathetically at me. Meanwhile, the Ithorian mechanic raised his single brow up at the time. I glanced up at the chrono as well and blanched. Twenty minutes until I had to bring this hunk of explosives up to the starting line.

I took that as a sign to get inside the swoop. I grabbed a red helmet from the mechanic's hands and faced the Wookiee.

Zaalbar growled. "Be careful out there. I swore a life debt on you. Don't make that debt pointless."

He stomped away with those final words as I opened the cockpit of what I liked to call the "suicidal" swoop. A few other swoops were making their way onto the old speeder roads—the ones that had to be close to the ground to work. Surprising how recent the modern speeder actually was to these Tarisians.

The road was wide and it seemed as if we had a fair stretch of track before we had to turn dangerously. I wasn't worried about the race of course...I was more worried about the suicidal bike I was racing.

A single-engine swoop came up beside me quickly and I recognized him as that rude tall alien I ran into before. A few Vulkars and others in the crowd were cheering his name "Redros." The name sounded familiar. I was pretty sure Zax had mentioned the high amounts of bets people put on the alien. I made a mental note to avoid this red-dressed alien at all times during the race. I had enough to worry about already.

I pulled up near the middle row. I tried counting the number of swoops, and it was around the fifteen range. That was a lot for an illegal swoop race but... I doubted that anyone cared about Republic laws on an Outer Rim Sith planet.

The people were all spread out around the track. The richer guests were closer to the starting line. Mission and her Wookiee were most likely further down and close to the Hidden Beks. An Ithorian announcer croaked out a few positive speeches about how intense this race against the Black Vulkars and the Hidden Beks was going to be.

He left out my impending doom, of course.

I never set foot inside a swoop and now I had to get used to the controls. They were similar to a speeder minus the fact that there were thrusters instead of a wheel to control the vehicle. Oh, and there were brakes and a...well, I guess that was the accelerator pedal since the engines revved with bright energy. I had to be careful with that one.

Many of the swoops around me were simple in design. Most if not all had single engines instead of double like mine. I crossed my fingers and hoped that didn't put me at a serious disadvantage.

Redros was laughing and spit out curses to his mechanic who was oiling the back engines before the race started. Half of the racers were in red and yellow-painted swoops while the other half were dark blue or black. Redros' was—of course—the only exception since even though he was a Vulkar his swoop was colored a bright red. My own swoop hadn't even gotten a coat of paint yet and was a tin can compared to everyone else's.

A few Bek's looked towards me with sympathy. Yes, I was the madman who decided to ride the suicidal swoop bike. Now, let's just hope I didn't explode in any of their faces.

Before I could even examine what that meter in front of the cockpit window meant, the old traffic lights above us blinked red. I cursed, putting my hand on the thrusters. It was time to die. I hoped that there would be enough of me to have a funeral with when I was done.

My hands shook as I stared intently at the red traffic light and held my breath when they turned yellow. I didn't even notice myself stepping on the accelerator pedal when the light turned green.

My focus was intent as I weaved through the traffic of swoops. I never took my eyes off the track and felt the foot that was on the accelerator sweat. The black market accelerator did indeed increase the speed of this swoop, so much so that I was climbing up to third place.

Four laps. That was all I needed. However, the track was long which was why I wasn't even going to last for two. I tried putting those thoughts aside as I made my first turn, letting my foot go off the accelerator and bending smoothly into the turn. It was almost as if I was one with the machine as cheesy as that sounded.

The first lap was easy. I gradually weaved in and out of second and third place like an unfaithful couple. Redros easily kept first place and the crowds cheered as he whooped on his red swoop like a crazy Ewok. I narrowed my eyes at the Vulkar and decided to risk stepping on the accelerator a little bit more.

I soon realized what that meter was for. Overheating.

The red lights blinked at me from the meter. I cursed as I was forced to step back on the pedal, weaving my bike away from fresh debris. It took me a second to realize that the smoky swoop had been the person who had been in second place—a Bek.

Redros was laughing and sped away like a criminal caught on the scene of the crime. I was forced to back off as I crossed the see-through line, falling into seventh place. Seventh.

And that wasn't the end of that. Oh no. Redros had a few more tricks up his sleeve.

Another explosion ripped through the track and I made a quick and precise swerve as I...sensed the metal engines flying into me. A second later, the engines truly fell from the sky. It was as if I saw that with double vision. Like I could predict the future.

How?

I passed over the debris of another Bek swoop, then held my breath as I had to make another quick swerve to avoid an aggressive Vulkar. The Twi'lek cursed at me. Since I was the only one on the track who had a covered cockpit, I couldn't curse back.

Then, as I crossed the line again, I was in last place. I was starting to lose hope. How could I do this when on this very lap the suicidal swoop was going to backfire on me? My grip on the thrusters was sweaty yet I kept a continued focus on the stretch of road that seemed to be going on forever.

Then...a twinge of hope.

It was soft and in the distance...like a faraway dream in the mists. The images I saw—of Deralia, of my ship, of the wild wilderness of home—filled me with the confidence to keep going. Ha, it was almost as if someone was giving me morale...

Wait.

The Vulkars were slowing down and I passed them as if I had just been catching my breath and meant to save my energy for the final stretch. I glanced out of the cockpit and saw the frightened and terrified faces of the Vulkars...even the Beks. Pretty soon, I was in second place again, Redros' back appeared like an unwanted plague. I was intent on catching up to him though, so I stepped onto the accelerator and ignored the red meter.

A big mistake.

I felt something break inside my mind and all havoc went loose inside the bike. Puffs of smoke trailed out of the suicidal swoop and I was slowing down rapidly. Sirens were going off from somewhere. I didn't know what was happening before I realized that the acceleration pedal wasn't working anymore. And I was stuck, slowing down and gradually being passed like I was nothing.

Kriff...come on! This was worse than exploding in a pile of smoke! I was just sitting there...a failure! I squeezed the thrusters tightly as I felt something within my mind again. It was familiar...

And then, it was as if I felt everything yet nothing at the same time.

The engines sprung to life and the swoop sped forward. One of my hands gripped my seat in surprise. I was going at an even faster speed than before the accelerator broke down. I smirked slightly as the bike began to pass the racers again.

How in all hells did the speeder turn on again?

I swerved around the track as those questions came into my mind as if losing my focus affected the swoop's engines...

Soon enough, I was beside Redros.

"You Beks!" he shouted.

He rammed his red shiny swoop towards me. Fortunately, I was able to weave away, using those quick reflexes of mine again. We passed the line the third time—some swoops stopping to get their bike fixed at a mechanic. I knew that my Ithorian mechanic would be of no help to me. It was a miracle the two steaming engines were still functioning...

Redros tried slamming into me again. The crowd buzzed with strange excitement. I didn't really know what was going on anymore...

"Slemo!" he shouted at me as we came up to the halfway point of the track.

Before I could get too excited at possibly winning, a strange sound came from the front of the swoop.

One of my engines stopped running.

"..."

My face paled, my eyes widening, as I became aware that I was on a suicidal swoop that was only functioning on one engine. One and nothing else. Nothing besides that and the accelerator was keeping this thing floating.

Except for...I had no fucking clue.

I was beginning to panic and it was showing in the swoop, the bike with its own mind jumping up and down like an excited gizka. Redros was so shocked that he didn't notice the pile of Bek swoop parts that he—ironically—left behind. I heard him shout once before his swoop became a manual grenade. My bike ducked along with me as the explosion propelled me across the finish line.

I paled as the body of my swoop dropped. Whatever force was keeping it together disappeared once the race finished. I yelped as I slid to a stop and brushed away fire as the friction rubbed against the metal.

I opened the cockpit door and jumped out while rolling painfully away from the suicidal swoop. A few other swoops passed over me and slide back when my bike exploded, accidentally taking some others with it.

Falling debris collided with the track. The crowd was deathly silent. The few remaining swoop racers had stopped their bikes and were looking between me and my swoop in shock.

I couldn't believe this.

I won.

Only after the Ithorian announced the Hidden Beks as the winners did the crowd cheer.