Swoop Audience stands

Carth Onasi

Another Swoop bike crashed into a horrific explosion to the cheers around him. The anxiety gripping his stomach made Carth the outlier among them all. It should be him down there committing guaranteed suicide. A lifetime career of flying dangerous maneuvers and where was he? On the damn sidelines unable to do nothing but pray that she was going to be fine. This had become a dangerous recurrence. He was the ranking officer, but it was Aria who kept putting herself on the line. First it had been the dueling arena, infiltrating the Sith Party, volunteering herself into a gang war for their mission, and now risking it all on a hot supped up swoop bike, threatening to out-class all the current flaming hunks of twisted wreckage on the tract.

They were relying more and more on her. A smuggler that had as much patriotism as a Hutt's sense of charity. He knew her motivation was just to get past the Sith blockade. After that it was more than likely she was going to slip away never to be seen again. What bit him most wasn't that he didn't trust her, but the conflict of wanting to. Her charisma wasn't lost on him, Aria displayed the decisive nature to make risky but rewarding decisions. Naturally drawing others into following her lead. Traits he had learn to spot in good soldiers that could climb the ranks, but it worried him what else he saw. Like the cruelty she displayed, he got the feeling that most of good deeds she had done was tempered by her present company, and non of the good acts were really selfless.

Was he just imagining things? His ability to trust others was non-existent these days. Still, he wasn't going to let his guard down, but his inability to get a good read on her frustrated him. It was like she was wearing a mask. One he needed to peek under if he wanted any chance of trusting her. Unlike the kid who practically skipped to his side. The gleam in Mission's eyes told him everything. She had already fallen head over heels for someone she met just yesterday. Mission was too young to see the future heartbreak coming, but if Aria survived this he was going to have a word with her.

"How's our champ?", He ignored the eye roll she gave. Smirking Mission pointed at the starting line where Aria's swoop bike pulled in, "Ready to win it thanks to me saving her ass."
She answered his question before he coild ask it, "Looks like Brejik was getting nervous. Don't worry I handled it."
"Huh…", It just made him worry more, "Well good job. Now it's just up to her." His eyes locked onto the winning time that had been whittled down to 00:28:78. His mouth felt too dry as he asked, "Theoretically what is the best time anyone can possibly get?"
Mission drummed her fingers as she thought about it. "Hey Big Z, wasn't it something like…" The wookie who had been a silent vigil over his shoulder growled out something Carth could feel resonate in his bones. "Yeah 00:25:12 is probably the most achievable time."

Carth rubbed the back of his neck trying to get ahead of the stress knot forming there. The sound of the starting lights counting down thundered in his ears. He couldn't watch. He needed to. Mission and Zaalbar cheered as Aria took off. Going so fast it looked like she was about to enter Hyper-speed. The tract had become littered with wrecked bikes that she zipped by so close he thought she hit them, but the swoop bike carried on like a red streak unharmed. Hitting speed ramps one after the other like she had memorized the entire track from her previous heat. Speeding so quickly Carth could barely follow with his eyes. The lump in his throat prevented him from cheering alongside his companions. Aria was so close! Zaalbar was punching both his great fists out while Mission jumped up and down screaming her head off. Carth had never seen such sharp reflexes in his life.

The Speeder zig zagged past every obstacle in its way. Barreling down the last few hundred meters of tract beyond breakneck furry. Crossing the finish line in one final burst of acceleration before breaking in a sudden jerk. The roar of the crowd already told him the answer before he saw the time.

00:22:59

Carth caught himself from falling. Able to breathe air again like he had been holding his breath for an hour, not less than half a minute. Gripping the rough railing hard enough to imprint it onto his fingertips. Over the speakers came the announcers calling the race, "That's it folks! A brand-new Taris record not likely to be broken today, or tomorrow! We have our champion!"
'Holy crap she actually did it!', Carth allowed himself to smile. His rare optimizing wasn't allowed to last by the rules of the galaxy. Ending quickly as he watched Brejik stride up at the winner's circle to make an announcement. Stealing away the attention focused on Aria accepting her newest title.

Scowling down Carth was already planning the fastest way down to help before Brejik opened his mouth.

Bastila Shaun

'Something is very wrong', Bastila emerged from her unconscious state. Her mind sharpening itself to focus on her surroundings. A powerful familiar call had hooked itself into her, and pulled her out of the meditative state she was in. Thunderous applause assaulted her ears. It appeared that the criminal sporting event had finished, and some fool who falsely believed they now owned her was being celebrated. She steadied herself and practiced flexing her muscles. Finding all of them responding at once with their strength restored.

The force was calling to her. Its message shrouded in meaning, but she understood the time to act was fast approaching. The gang leader had just made a declaration to the jeers of the spectators, "People, hear me! Before I present the so-called champion of the Beks with their prize there is something you must know: the winning rider cheated!" Brejiks sniviling voice carried over them all, "Your swoop bike was using a prototype accelerator, cleary an unfair advantage! Because of this Hidden Bek treachery I'm withdrawing the Vulkar's share of the victory prize!"

An aghast cry came from the race Announcer, "You can't do this, Brejik! You know the rules: nobody's allowed to withdraw a victory prize after the race. It goes against all our most sacred traditions!"
Brejik only scoffed, "You old fool! Your traditions are nothing to me, I am the wave of the future! If I want to withdraw the prize and sell this woman on the slave market myself, nobody can stop me!"

It was against the teachings of the Jedi, but she couldn't help but smirk. "I might have something to say about that, Brejik!", He whipped his head around mouth agap when she spoke. She was going to enjoy this. Calling upon the force she gathered it . Coiling around her tightly then letting lash out in one powerful explosion destroying the cage and her chains.

He could only stammer out, "What? Impossible! You were restrained by a neural disruptor! How could you have possibly summoned the will to free yourself?"
Bastila walked over the rubble of her cage "You underestimate the strength of a Jedi's mind, Brejik, a mistake you won't live to regret!." Her two guards came over their shock and tried to subdue her. Their movements were slow, undisciplined, no match for the unarmed woman who ended the fight in one swift back spin hook kick that snapped across both their jaws. Knocking their brains against their skulls from the blow and turning off the lights upstairs. The pure panic in Brejik's voice humored her, "VULAKARS, to me! Kill this woman! Kill the swoop rider! Kill them all!"

Blasters were drawn with shots coming in from every angle. Bastila didn't let herself think. Only moving in a dance of forced enhanced reactions. It felt good to fight again. To move her body after an untold time encaged. Revenge wasn't the Jedi way, if any of them surrendered she would have stopped, but no one did so she got to bloody her knuckles plenty. Each one she defeated closed the distance between her and their leader.

Brejik who she could feel was seething with rage did something unexpected. Clearly none of the other gangs had took kindly to his withdrawal. They attacked him and his gang with vitriol, but the first few who got close to Brejik were cut down by his, by her, surprise weapon. Brejik had withdrew her doubled-bladed lightsaber and ignited its first golden yellow blade. A sacred weapon of peace was in the hands of a criminal. Now the Jedi admitted to herself that she was pissed.

Her momentary lapse of anger broke her concentration. Losing her connection to the force just long enough for Brejik to make use of it. He was skilled enough to avoid cutting himself as he slashed at her. Bastila nearly tripped over one of the dead Vulkars. Avoiding her own weapon being used against her. She tried to call the force to her aid, but something blocked her attempt. More of his gang attacked her separating the two.

Bastila blocked the vibroblade of one catching it between the palms of her hand. Redirecting it into the side of the second. Then with the hard blow of her elbow into its owner's throat freed the sword for her own use. The Vulkars just kept coming no matter how many she put down. Their leader circled the outside of the never-ending fight. Watching her begin to get overwhelmed. All her extremities began to burn from overuse. There were too many of them and it was only a matter of time before she couldn't fight on anymore.

"GET DOWN!" A voice at once familiar and foreign called out. She saw the reflecting silver of the bomb as it flew overhead the crowd and she obeyed immediately. Throwing herself down as far away as she could, hearing a single stray shot followed after by the concussion bomb explode before it hit the ground. The shockwave riding just above her eradicated the mobbing crowd. For a brief second she believed herself safe, but then Brejik appeared once again standing over her.

Brejik raised the lightsaber high ready to cut her down. His face twisted in a sick early gloating of his victory over her.
PSHIEW!
The blaster sound aligned with the widening of Brejik's eyes. They went cross-eyed trying to look at the new hole just above them. His body stood for but a second before going limp and thudding onto the floor. Her lightsaber rolling free from his hand to her. Moving on its own without the aid of the force to its master's side. Bastila collected it, feeling a restored sense of security with it and took in that the fighting was now over at least on the platform.

All the Vulkars were dead with half of the other racers. The fighting seemed to end as quickly as the Heats had. She stood ready to defend herself as Brejik's killer, the winner of that day's less than legal events. Breaking free of her cell along with the ensuring fight had drained her heavily. She didn't get a clear look at them as she began talking. Bastila squared her shoulders back and put a hand on her hips defiantly.
"Well, maybe those bloody Vulkars will think twice next time before trying to keep a Jedi prisoner! And as for you, if you think you can collect me as a prize…Wait…"
Revan the Dark Lord of the Sith was looking at her with those domineering beautiful eyes. Looking at her in such a way it undid her composer.

"I don't believe this! You're…", She swallowed the lump in her throat understanding. Recognizing the unfamiliarity Revan had for her. Bastila composed herself, "You're one of the soldiers with the Republic fleet, aren't you? Yes, I'm sure of it. How did you end up racing for these swoop gangs?"
Revan gave a chastising gaze as though she had something cruel to say before laughing dryly, "It's a long story."
Bastila almost expected Revan's voice to still have the metallic ring of being filtered though her old helm. There wasn't enough time for her to process everything. "Well, we don't have time for it now. We have to get out of here before the Sith show up to sort out this mess. Is there somewhere safe we can go?" It wasn't lost on her the irony of asking the Dark Lord of the Sith for shelter. Revan didn't show any fear of such a thing, "I've got somewhere safe to go. I was planning to take you there after I saved you from Brejik."

"Save me?" Revan was here to save her? It made her laugh. The tactical war strategist who had brought the Republic to its knees, and this had been their plan? Try to get one over a violent gang by themselves without any help? Maybe the Council had damaged her skill for such things. "Is that what you were trying to accomplish by riding in that swoop race? Well, as far as rescues go this is a pretty poor example. In case you hadn't noticed, I managed to free myself from that neural restraint collar without your help. In fact, it's more accurate to say that I saved you! Brejik and his Vulkars would have left you for dead if I hadn't stepped into that fight. You're lucky I was here to get you out of this mess!"

Now it was Revan's turn to laugh sardonically, "Yes you saved me right there at the end didn't you. With all of them ganging up on me, and he almost had me before you put a hole in his head. No, wait that was me wasn't it now? So, tell me Jedi, if you don't need any help at all. Why wait till someone won you? Did you get a taste for dressing like a slave? Were you hedging your bets in case the winner was your type after all?"
She got under her skin so effortlessly, "I may have been a prisoner, but a Jedi is never helpless. Maybe you've heard of a little thing called 'the Force'?" Bastila took in a calming breath realizing her response wasn't the most mature for someone of her rank. Putting a more appreciative if exasperated tone in her voice she delegated, "But I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on you. You did try to save me after all, even if it didn't go quite as planned. So, let's get down to business, we're not out of danger yet."

She needed to take charge. Bastila studied their surroundings. They were in the lower levels of the mega-city planet. She had learned during her imprisonment the current state of the Sith blockade. "If I'm going to figure out a way for us to get off this planet, I need to know what kind of resources we can draw on. First, are we the only two survivors left from the Endar Spire?"
The amusement in Revan's eyes ticked her off, but thankfully the amnesiac dark lord had some good news to share. "We aren't the only survivors. Carth Onasi is alive as well." Revan jerked a thumb without needing to look at a connecting roadway to the platform. Pointing the Republic pilot out as he raced fighting through what was left of the Vulkars to get to them with the accompaniment of two others she didn't recognize. Real hope for a chance at victory raced through her.
"Carth Onasi is alive? Finally, some good news! Carth is one of the Republic's best soldiers. He's proved himself a hero a dozen times over!"
"Well don't suck his dick before he even gets here."

"Oh shut up!", Bastila pinched her furrowed brow. Repeating the mantra that despite what she was wearing, she was a Jedi. The least a Jedi can be was to rise above an immature Sith's crass nature. Holding up a hand to cut off any remake she composed herself. "Maybe I misjudged you. Just on your plan. Carth wouldn't have sent you if he wasn't confident in your…abilities. Forgive me, despite my Jedi training, I still tend to act a bit rashly sometimes."
"No offense taken. Now, before our dashing hero gets here.", Revan suddenly tore off her racing jacket and was suddenly coming too close at once. Bastila's brain faltered unable to understand, reflexively bringing her guard up trying to avoid focusing on how the tiny clinging tank top Revan wore bounced up and down.
"WHAT ARE-?", was all she managed before Revan threw the jacket around her shoulders, and pulled it closed. Coming to cover up her just down to her hips.

Again, that irritating studying look, "By all means, correct me if I'm wrong, but I imagine the latex fuck doll look isn't your usual style."
The act stunned her, "I-..Thank you ,but do you HAVE to be so crass!"

Revan's smirk told her she could only be worse.