Mission was pretty sure that she was going to lose her voice before the first lap even ended. As soon as Seth's swoop bike sprung from the starting line, an enthusiastically wild shout erupted from her throat, drowned out by the thundering ovation booming throughout the stadium. Even Carth's own shouts directly to her right were hardly audible over the noise. She noticed, however, the absence of Zaalbar's voice, and elbowed the hairy wookiee in the ribs when she realized her best friend had been more focused on a stick of fried Nerf meat than it had been on the race in front of them. He gave a halfhearted roar that Mission was sure had no meaning other than to get her off his back before proceeding to take a gigantic bite from the delicacy.
Mission rolled her eyes and turned back to the race, where Seth was approaching the first turn. His black bike faltered a bit as he came into the turn, leaning more towards the outer wall of the track as opposed to the other racers who kept to the inner side of it. The slip-up, although momentary as the black swoop bike swerved back inwards, had cost Seth, and he was bumped back to the rear of the pack.
From what Mission could tell, Seth was at about seventeenth place, behind five other swoop gang racing teams. She tried to pay his current placement no mind, however. At the beginning of the race, the bikes were always in a tight group, but Mission knew that the cluster would thin out the more laps the riders took around the track. For now, it was difficult for just about anyone to advance at all. She allowed herself to whoop wildly for her friend as Seth managed to jostle his way up to fifteenth place, however.
By the time they'd approached the second turn, Seth had learned to keep his bike closer to the inner wall of the track, and came out of it quite smoothly. Mission marveled at how quickly he was picking up on the strategies of the race. She wondered if it would be enough to help him catch up to the other two Bek riders who were neck-and-neck with Redros for first place as the first lap began to wrap up.
She became vaguely aware of Carth's voice above the buzz of the crowd, but as she turned to him, she couldn't quite make out what he was saying. She mouthed "what?" and Carth tried again.
"I was asking how many laps there are?" Carth shouted over the din of the crowd.
"Two-hundred!" She kept her eyes on the bikes as she replied, and failed to notice Carth's jaw dropping in shock.
"Why in the good name of the Jedi are there so many?"
Mission shrugged, still locking her vision on the track, and more specifically the black swoop bike battling through the middle of the pack. "Each lap is only about forty-five seconds or so – it doesn't really take that long!"
"That's at least an hour and a half!" Carth's arms were now folded over his chest in indignation.
"Just… try to get into the race a little more and time will fly," she suggested. "Just wait until the first crash."
"Hopefully it won't be Seth," he pointed out.
"It won't be," Mission said confidently. "He knows what he's doing."
As she tracked the movement of Seth's bike with her eyes, however, Mission couldn't help biting her lip nervously and adding under her breath, "I hope."
Twelve laps later, Seth had finally battled his way into the ranks of the top-ten racers, although he still wasn't able to advance as quickly as he'd originally hoped. The pack was still cramped and frustratingly difficult to navigate through. Each racing team was working as a unit, trying to advance their riders while keeping their riders at bay. The racers riding for the Black Vulkars seemed to be exceedingly proficient at it, letting Redros take the lead while the remaining Vulkar racers hung back to keep the others bunched up. Seth was finding it difficult simply to maintain the position he'd taken, let alone advance.
The rider he'd just passed up, who Seth assumed was a member of the Crouching Nexu gang if he was recalling Mission's crash course on gang symbols correctly and had properly identified the image of the coiled jungle predator on the bike's pontoons, was giving him a bit of trouble. Frustrated as he was that a human had been the one to take his position, the rider was trying to retake ninth place by banging into Seth's bike repeatedly and attempting to pass him. Each time the rival bike's offending pontoon ground against the side of Seth's engines, the teen had to immediately make adjustments to keep from spinning out of control.
"Come on, I need some help here!" he implored the other Bek riders as his bike was violently jostled once again.
Go'lung made a noise through Seth's earpiece that the boy assumed was the Bith equivalent of a sigh. "We would, but we're too far ahead and there's too many bikes. Sorry, we couldn't get to you even if we could afford to drop six places."
"Have you tried shaking him?" Livana offered.
As the bikes curved around the first turn, Seth was granted a small reprieve. Thankfully, everyone was concentrating on hugging the inner wall as closely as possible and avoiding becoming the first crash of the night. As they came out of the turn, however, Seth threw another look back to see the Crouching Nexu bike lining up for another go.
"What the hell do you think I'm trying to do?!" he replied frustratedly, unsure of how many more hits his bike could take.
Livana's response sounded defensive over the speaker. "Well, you could be f-"
"[Avery, it's Tor-Fy,]" the Rodian's voice cut Livana's retort, and accompanying sass, off immediately. "[Try looking for a big enough break in the bikes in front of you to fit your bike through. The guy on your tail will have a bloody hard time following you then.]"
"I'm going to file that suggestion into the section titled Easier said than done," Seth mumbled, but cut his thoughts off for a moment as the Crouching Nexu bike came in again. He sped up just enough for the bike to swerve in behind him.
"Tor-Fy," he restarted with a breath of indignation. "I can't exactly get through a break if there isn't any-" Seth stopped himself. After missing his bike, the rival bike had plowed into the swoop immediately to Seth's right, gouging a chunk out of both their pontoons and sending them both careening sideways to crash into the outer wall. For a moment, they ground against the tall duracrete barrier, sparks showering everything within fifteen feet before losing velocity and slipping out of Seth's field of vision.
The sudden departure of the two racers left a gap in the crush of bikes, and Seth gunned his engine to take advantage of the opportunity before the other racers could. He let out a sigh of relief as his bike broke through the pack of swoops. He heard Go'lung whoop and holler in excitement over the radio.
"Nice job kid, I'm impressed," Livana commended, and Seth could hear the smile in her voice. "Now step on it – we need that bike up here and a hundred yards past Redros." He wasted no time in complying, pressing the accelerator pedal down to the floor and sending his bike rocketing ahead once more. There were a handful of bikes that had made it past the throng, but they couldn't hold a match to the speed that the prototype accelerator granted Seth. He passed the closest swoop in seconds, lips curling into a sly smile as the adrenaline flooding through his body nearly doubled in the time it took him to complete the thirteenth lap.
Seth had four more bikes to pass before he would catch up to the leading three racers – Livana, Go'lung, and Redros. He was more than ready to settle his score with the egotistical Nikto. Out on the track, the two-ton durasteel racing swoops provided a much more simple and visceral way to resolve disputes than words ever could.
The next racer, however, proved much harder to pass, as they tried to block Seth's advance by sticking directly in front of his bike. Gunning the engines harder still, Seth slammed his bike into the back of the rival racer's left pontoon, critically damaging his bike's maneuvering flap. Normally, Seth would have felt convicted at such a dirty move on the racetrack, but the stakes were too high to play by the rules for the entirety of the race. The other rider visibly decelerated, recognizing the fatal damage to his bike's maneuvering system. However, this did not stop him from gesturing obscenely at Seth as the younger rider pushed past.
The black swoop was now gunning at a speed that any reasonable person would call "reckless." And, were he offered the chance to consider the proposition, Seth likely would have agreed with that person.
Right now, Seth's concentration was solely focused on the track. He couldn't even see the crowd as the faces blurred past anymore – just the permacrete track in front of him. The completion of the fourteenth lap barely registered in Seth's mind.
Another twenty laps passed, then twenty-five, and still Seth lagged behind the leading three. The prototype accelerator worked like a double-edged vibroblade. It gave Seth a definite advantage in speed that was unobtainable by the other bikes, but it was difficult to remain as close to the inner wall on the turns as the other swoops could. It had ended up costing him a frustratingly large margin of distance that he'd needed to catch up to the top three.
For the next hour, all Seth could do was chase the leaders, inching closer and closer with the completion of every lap. Behind him, the other bikes were knocked out of the race one by one, due to issues such as mechanical failure, knockout, or simply crashing. There had been a particularly nasty dropout of the latter category recently, happening much too close to Seth for his comfort. One rider had tried to pass Seth on a turn, and ended up throwing his bike into an uncontrolled skid, smashing his bike into the outer wall and blowing into countless pieces in an impressive explosion. It had taken several laps for the automated disposal droids to clear the remains off the track, since every time the bikes looped back around to the crash site, the small floating droids had to lift themselves clear of the looming bikes.
By the time the one hundred eleventh lap came, Seth had finally caught up to the leading three, his pontoon just beginning to come parallel to Livana's cockpit. Go'lung was right on Redros' tail. Seth was all but putting his foot and accelerator pedal through the steel floor of his bike when, for the first time in an hour, Tor-fy's voice came through his helmet radio. "[Step on it, Avery, we're running out of time!]"
Now directly next to Livana's deep blue swoop, he adjusted the power flow to the prototype accelerator slightly, trying to squeeze as much speed as possible from the engines. "I'm working on it!"
"Hang on!" Go'lung's voice came through the radio excitedly. "I think I can pass Redros!"
Seth glanced up at the Bith's bike, and sure enough, Go'lung appeared to be gaining on Redros and was in a prime position to pass. He was slightly in awe of the professional rider, admiring the fact that he didn't even need the accelerator.
But as Seth studied the way Go'lung was passing Redros, something seemed off. It looked far too easy, as if Redros was letting the Hidden Bek rider slide past, and it made Seth's instincts buzz with alarm. His fears were confirmed as Go'lung passed Redros and left himself vulnerable to what Seth could now see the Nikto lining his bike up to do. The youngest rider shouted a warning over the comm, but it was too late. Redros jammed the reinforced durasteel tip of his pontoon into the presented side of the right engine of Go'lung's bike, shredding it. A shower of sparks and a gout of flame erupted from the wrecked engine, and the bike immediately lost speed. Redros easily retook the lead.
"[Go'lung, give me a SIT-REP! Now!]" Tor-fy ordered firmly, sounding slightly shocked at Redros' bold and unexpected move.
The Bith grunted, the shaky sound of his ruined engine accompanying his voice. "I can't keep going, the right engine's totaled and the left is overheating. Sorry, but I'm out."
Tor-fy uttered the Rodian equivalent of a discouraged sigh. "[Understood, come on in.]" Fortunately, they were near the pits, so Go'lung was able to bring his bike limping back to the waiting Hidden Bek mechanics.
Seth's frustration and anger with the Nikto rider doubled, coupled with anger at himself for not warning Go'lung about the danger sooner. He vented his pent-up fury by banging his head against the back of the cockpit.
"Guess it's just you and me then," Livana's voice was utterly serious, her own ice cold wrath audible in her voice. "Let's get this son of a Hutt."
Almost simultaneously, they accelerated, gaining on Redros' red and orange swoop bike. The remainder of the bikes were almost an entire lap behind them, so they had all the room available to deliver their comeuppance to the Vulkar rider. Seth and Livana clung to his tail like Kath Hounds after a fleeing Nerf. Under his helmet, by the way Seth's teeth were bared, he felt as if he were just that.
Catching up to Redros was an insufferably slow process, taking another ten laps. But as soon as he was in range, Seth swung his bike in to hit Redros'. This act of retribution, however small it may have been, was surprisingly satisfying. He slammed his bike into Redros' again, trying to knock him into the outer wall. However, the elite rider was well versed in the techniques of swoop bike combat. Instead of trying to fight Seth's push, Redros leaned along with it, and decelerated at the same time. The tactic allowed him to slip behind Seth and make the teenager impact the outer wall himself. Seth immediately swerved away from the wall, but still, in a thick line along his bike's left pontoon, the black paint was now scratched and ground off. The impact with the wall had also robbed him of speed, once again allowing Redros to retake the lead.
"[Careful Avery!]" Tor-fy cautioned. "[Don't get cocky out there.]"
Seth did not need to be told twice. He had seen over half of the swoop riders that had started the race be disqualified and he had no intention to join their ranks. He knew that he would get his chance to knock that Vulkar into the wall as hard as he possibly could.
While he was unable to rough Redros up, the opportunity to pass him was presented to Seth during the one hundred fiftieth lap. As the Nikto was bringing his bike around the first turn, the Vulkar's maneuvering flaps seemed to seize up a bit, causing the bike to fail to hug the inner wall as it went around as it had been able to do on the previous laps. Suddenly, a wide gap opened up in front of Seth and he could see, for once, a clean stretch of track ahead of him
"Take it Avery!" Livana shouted over the comm. Seth gunned the prototype until it he was sure it was near overheating and his black bike shot into the lead. The pit crew and Livana's cheers buzzed in his helmet radio.
He winced at the volume, but couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as wide as the gap that Redros had left. "Ow! Not in my ear people!"
Mission was sure she was going to have a sore throat later in the day, but at the moment, she didn't care. After watching Seth trail behind the leaders for over an hour, the entire Bek section fell silent as Redros stumbled, and consequently erupted in wild cheers when Seth finally took the lead for the Hidden Beks. Any booing Vulkar supporters in the surrounding seats was utterly drowned out by the ecstatic roar.
She jumped up and down, pumping her fists wildly into the air. Never before had Mission been to a swoop race as exciting as this one, and never before had she had such a personal investment in the race itself. Sure, she always had cheered for the Bek riders and booed the Vulkar riders, but Seth was quickly becoming one of her best friends, and his victory was the second most important thing to her today, aside from his very life.
Still whooping at Seth's overtaking of Redros, she turned and punched Carth excitedly in the shoulder. He wasn't exactly pleased with that celebratory action; still, even as he massaged the area Mission's fist had likely bruised, Carth managed to cheer along with the Beks at Seth's achievement. His chest swelled with pride for the boy, and Mission could have sworn she heard him mutter, "Must be the pilot's charm."
Eventually, there were only ten more laps to go.
Ten more heart-pounding laps to go and if Seth had thought that keeping lower placing was difficult, holding first place against the best rider of the Black Vulkar gang would be the new defining point for difficulty in the future. He had to somehow keep his bike going at the absolute top-speed, but still stay on the inside of the track when approaching the turns.
Sweat of extreme concentration beaded on the end of Seth's nose. His knuckles were growing stiff and screaming with pain from gripping the steering sticks as hard as he was. So far, his efforts were successful, the distance between him and Redros was growing. Then again, he could attribute some of that success to Livana's slamming her bike into Redros' when she could. The Twi'lek, realizing that Seth and the prototype accelerator had the best chance of maintaining a lead for the Beks, did her part in ensuring Seth's eventual victory, even delivering warnings to Seth whenever it looked like Redros could gain on him.
By the time he completed the hundred ninetieth lap, Seth's confidence had grown considerably. He refused to let himself relax, however.
There were still nine additional laps to go, and he knew that a lot could happen in that time.
He entered the first turn, bringing his bike so close to the inner wall that if he came any closer, he would start grinding the side of his bike against the impregnable duracrete. Still, the gap between him and Redros was now as large enough that at least two swoop bikes could have fit between them. He allowed himself to take a deep breath. "Focus, Avery. Come on. Nine more. Count the turns."
The frantic beeping of a system alarm tore him from his forced calm. Seth looked down at the harsh red light on the dashboard, and what he saw filled him head to toe with cold dread. The flashing light signaled a dangerous buildup of heat in the engines, or more specifically, the prototype accelerator.
Looking back again, he saw that a bright flame and column of thick black smoke belching out from his right engine.
Frantically, he attempted to vent the heat from the accelerator while still running it. Deactivation now would result in Redros retaking the lead. Ultimately, Seth's efforts were unsuccessful. The right engine failed with a last explosion of flame, and with only one operating engine coupled with the force of the final blast, Seth's bike went into an uncontrolled spin.
In the midst of the rising cheer climbing at an unprecedented rate within the grandstands from a crowd growing in anticipation of the spinning black swoop bike's impending crash, the Hidden Bek fans could only watch in mute horror. The bike hurtled down the second straightaway at speeds unobtainable even by the prototype accelerator.
Mission felt her throat constrict. "No, no, no! This can't happen. This isn't supposed to happen!" she yelled mentally, helplessly watching Seth's swoop spin closer and closer to the second turn where he would crash into the wall. Gadon had told her, no, he had promised her that this was not a feasible possibility, and yet here she was frozen in place as someone she very much considered a close friend rocketed toward certain death.
Beside her, Carth silently watched as well, his expression one he'd worn in the Mandalorian Wars as he'd watched fellow soldiers die.
The bike was spinning so fast that Seth had to fight his body's urge to black out form the G-force. Straining, he reached over to the control screen and began trying to reactivate the failed engine.
"[Avery! Do you read Avery?!]"
Seth's chin was unable to press down on the button to respond. And even if he could, he found he couldn't even breathe. Black spots appeared on the edge of his vision, and it felt as if a dewback had sat itself down upon his chest.
"Ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap!" he thought over and over again as he tried to reopen the flow of power to the right engine.
Still, the engine remained silent. Tears of bitter frustration welled in Seth's eyes. As a last resort, he desperately punched the 'Engine Start' button repeatedly while frantically flipping the 'Boost' switch.
Finally, he heard the sound of the engine roaring back to life. It was the sweetest thing he had heard all day. Seth managed to straighten his bike's trajectory just before he hit the wall of the second turn. Pulling the hardest turn he had ever attempted before, Seth couldn't suppress a maniacal laugh of relief and triumph even as the tail end of his bike scraped along the outer wall and left a trail of sparks in its wake.
The spin, however, had cut the distance between Seth and Redros to next to nothing. The Vulkar was now almost alongside him. The younger rider attempted to get the prototype accelerator working again, thankful that it hadn't been completely fried by the overheat.
As they completed the one hundred ninety-second lap, Seth and Redros were racing neck to neck, with Livana coming in just behind them, the first two trying to get the upper hand although Seth was in the lead by a few feet.
The accelerator was stubbornly failing to reactivate according to the commands Seth was entering into the control display. As it was, he and Redros were equal in speed. The Nikto slowly started to swerve over to Seth's bike, edging him closer to the outer wall. If he were broadsided now, he would be ground against it.
"Come on, Avery! You're faster than that, get out of there before he crushes you!" Livana ordered as the Redros' red and orange bike edged closer.
"Incredibly, the prototype got knocked out by that little spin I took earlier and now I can't get it to freaking reactivate!" he replied. He considered avoiding Redros by braking, but discarded that idea as quickly as it had came to mind. He had come too far to finish in second place now.
Redros' approach abruptly sped up, in seconds he would smash into Seth's bike.
"Ah, screw it," Livana snarled, suddenly thrusting her bike in between Seth's and Redros' and ramming into the Vulkar's swoop, thwarting the potentially lethal move the Nikto had planned.
Before Seth could thank the Twi'lek rider, the consequences of her defense of her fellow rider came into play. The bike repulsors on the side she had hit Redros' swoop with were destroyed, causing the entire pontoon to cease hovering over the track and fall to the ground. Seth heard Livana utter a vicious swear in Huttese as her bike twisted sideways and began flipping side over side, twisting the deep blue swoop bike into an almost unrecognizable heap of metal. Unable to maintain the speed Seth and Redros were going at, the wrecked bike vanished behind them.
Seth was silent with shock for a moment. As they entered the first turn, he looked over at where the Bek rider's swoop was being grabbed by a team of disposal droids to be hauled back to the pits.
"[Dameos, can you hear me?]" Tor-fy asked tentatively, concern clear in her voice.
Silence. Seth assumed the worst.
But then the comm crackled back on, static buzzing loudly through it. "Okay... that's one way to get a nasty knock on the head." A relived grin broke though Seth's sober expression. "Sorry kid," she continued, "it looks like it's up to you."
"No problem," he replied. "Redros will be complaining about a lot more than a knock on the head when I'm finished with him." Seth turned his focus completely towards the track ahead of him.
His lesson learned, he brought his bike away from the outer wall, banging into Redros' swoop while he was at it, but not with quite the ferocity he had earlier. Redros moved to strike back, but Seth swerved forwards before the Nikto could make contact, firmly gaining the lead.
As the Vulkar had tried to knock his engines out similarly like he had done to Go'lung, Seth knew exactly what to do, veering from side to side, foiling Redros' attempts to line up with his engines.
Seth recalled one of the things his commander had told him.
"Sometimes you don't have time to think. When that happens, just let the battle take over you. Focus on nothing. Use your instincts. Thinking will get you killed."
And that was exactly what he was doing. His mind was clear; he wasn't thinking, instead using his instincts to dictate his actions. It was a trance-like state. He hardly even registered completing the one hundred ninety-third lap. The sounds of the engines seemed like they was coming from a distance. He no longer saw the cockpit, only the track ahead. He felt the flow of his bike, his mind touching and recognizing every contour.
The ninety-fourth was completed. By now, even his breathing and heartbeat was at a normal, steady rate. The track was simple- straightaway, turn, straightaway, turn, repeat. The movements of the control sticks needed to guide the bike around came naturally now.
His calm finally slipped when he realized that he was on the final lap. His heartbeat once again climbed back up to its excited gallop.
The realization caused Redros to become more desperate in his efforts to regain the leadm and attempts on hitting Seth's bike became much more frequent. An especially hard one was delivered just as they entered the first turn.
Incidentally, this locked the maneuvering flaps they used to navigate the turn to get tangled together, locking the two swoops with each other.
Seth swore under his breath, realizing that every move he made was being countered by the Nikto's connected bike. Redros was doing the same thing. Seth could hear the metal straining, but it remained stuck together.
While going down the second straightaway it was all Seth could do to keep his bike going in a straight line. Now Redros was also trying the smash Seth's bike into the wall. The battle to keep from losing control again was a battle Seth knew he was losing. He needed to break away from the Vulkar's bike and he needed to do it fast. He longed for the extra speed the prototype had given him in the previous laps. If he could gain enough speed, he could probably break away from the other bike with minimal damage to his own.
Once again, he attempted to reactivate the prototype accelerator, first trying to reroute the flow through the energy lining, next powering it directly from the energy cells. Neither option worked, and he was drawing ever closer to the next turn.
Seth growled with frustration, slamming a gloved fist down on the display screen. "Stupid 'cutting edge' piece of-" he was interrupted by the accelerator suddenly whining back to life, providing a sudden burst of speed.
The unexpected boost turned out to be all he needed. As Seth entered the final turn, he heard a sharp crack as his maneuvering flap tore off Redros'. The Vulkar lost control and crashing into the outer wall of the track in the most satisfactory manner possible.
The next thing Seth knew, he'd flown across the finish line.
Seth pulled back on the throttle as far as he could, slowly coming to a stop. The entire Bek pit crew ran out onto the track and surrounded his bike. Yelling ecstatically, they motioned for Seth to exit the swoop.
He raised the canopy of the cockpit, standing in his seat. The noise of the crowd was one unlike anything Seth had ever heard in his life. Raising the tinted visor of his helmet, he stared at the grandstands, taking in the sight of excited and disappointed spectators all reacting at once. He was certain was that the noise they were making could probably be heard for miles.
Stepping down, Seth was instantly mobbed by his pit crew, who all seemed to want to give him a pat on the back or shake his hand. The other Beks that could make it out onto the track came to add to the crowd surrounding their triumphant rider.
Soon enough, the two other Bek riders managed to muscle their way through the teeming throng to personally congratulate.
Livana only had a few bruises and a thin bandage wrapped around a lekku, and judging by the little Seth knew of Bith expressions, Go'lung looked very happy. Livana's excitement was easier to tell, by the way she was ginning from one red ear to the other. Fortunately after the mandatory hand shake and back-slap, or in Livana's case giving him a crushing hug, they started assisting him through the gathering crowd of congratulatory Beks.
Seth took a deep breath, the truth of his situation finally seeping in.
He had won.
Fortunately, due to Mission and Zaalbar's Hidden Bek ties, they, along with Carth, were able to reconnect with Seth in the winner's circle. Seth started to give Carth a crisp salute from behind his helmet, but then he remembered that he wasn't supposed to be a soldier at the current moment. "Thanks for the pilot's charm sir, I think it may have helped." He held out the star-shaped pendant, offering it back.
Carth shook his head. "Nah, keep it. You never know when you'll have to race again. And besides, given your performance out there, you probably wore the luck out."
Mission rolled chocolate eyes. "Or, he's just that good."
"[I agree with Mission,]" Zaalbar chimed in. "[You raced well, Seth.]"
"And how exactly would you know that, Big Z?" Mission looked up at her Wookiee companion, hands on her hips. "It's not as if your attention was on anything besides the free food you got during the entire race." She turned back to Seth, who had been watching the exchange with no small amount on amusement. "Well I guess you're famous now. You can expect every other girl to be throwing themselves at your feet wherever you go."
Seth smirked under his helmet. "Oh, trust me Mission, they'd just be after fame by association, not my looks, and that's not cool with me," he joked.
"Oh don't sell yourself short," she replied. "You are kinda cute."
Seth's eyebrows shot up. "Is that so?" He was silently thankful that his helmet hid the triumphant grin that split his face.
Mission rolled her eyes again. "But don't bury yourself in the part either."
He shrugged. "Nah s'okay, I was going for the 'dashing' or the 'stunningly handsome' look… maybe I should grow a beard?" he tapped a leather encased finger against the area where his mouth would be under his helmet, considering.
Shaking her head, Mission smiled at him. "Oh wait, I forgot - burying yourself in the part is your calling."
Seth shrugged. "It's what I do."
Their conversation was cut short by the Duros announcer, stepping up onto the platform and situating himself behind a microphone stand. A droid hovered close by as he began speaking, capturing video for the holonet. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is the pleasure of the Professional Swoop Racing League to introduce our new champion." He waved Seth up to the stand as he spoke.. "Representing the Hidden Bek gang, Michael Fure!"
It took Seth a few seconds to remember his alias before he waved to the cheering crowd. He could make out his image on the huge display screens placed around the stadium as he made his way up to the podium. In this moment, Seth felt as if he could do anything.
It was at that time when Brejik stepped up to the platform followed by the defeated Redros and a sizable number of Vulkars following him. Seth waved sarcastically at him and at Redros he held up all his fingers except for his fourth and thumb, a very obscene gesture among the Nikto. Both Vulkar leader and rider were absolutely fuming at Seth's show of impertinence.
The Duros turned to the newly arrived gang leader. "And here to present the grand prize in person, the leader of the Black Vulkar gang: Brejik!"
Brejik stepped forward and eyed Seth with a mixture of rage, disgust and self-assured superiority. He turned to the gathering. "Before I present the so-called 'champion' of the Beks their prize," he gestured at a nearby cage where Seth could see a tall, brown-haired woman. Her posture was slumped and her head was looking down at the ground, so Seth couldn't make out her face. "There is something you all must know; the winning rider cheated!"
Seth's head snapped back to the Vulkar leader. "Resorting to lies to numb the pain of loss, Brejik? I expected you to be ugly – you fulfilled that expectation – but I had assumed you were above poor sportsmanship." The crowd laughed at Seth's jab, aside from the Vulkars, whose collective glower remained.
Brejik glared at Seth, wild-eyed. "Your swoop bike was using a prototype accelerator, clearly an unfair advantage! And now because of this blatant show of treachery from the Hidden Beks," he twisted the last two words like a curse, "I am withdrawing our share of the victory prize!"
The Duros spoke again. "You cannot do this Brejik! You cannot withdraw the prize after it has already been won, regardless of whether the winning rider cheated! It goes against our oldest and most sacred traditions!"
The dark-skinned man whirled back around to the Duros. "You old dithering fool! Your dusty, outdated traditions are nothing to me! Nothing! It is time for the future! And I am the future!" He promptly pulled out his blaster and shot the Duros in the head, shattering it like a ripe melon. "Vulkars to me! Kill this filthy Bek! Kill them all!"
Pandemonium ensued as the Vulkars pulled blasters out and started shooting blindly, not caring whether or not it was Beks they hit. Several people in the crowd fell, some wounded, others dead. Seth saw Livana, Go'lung, Tor-fy and the rest of the pit crew, who were all fortunately the the rear of the crowd, flee for their lives.
Seth dove out of the way as a Vulkar took aim at him, blaster shots lancing through the air where he had stood just a second before. Mission, Carth and Zaalbar charged up the small set of stairs leading to the platform. Mission and Carth were firing their blasters at the attacking Vulkars while Zaalbar whipped out a vibroblade and started hacking away at the nearest enemy.
Mission tossed a blaster to Seth who made a grab at it. And missed. Seth's eyes tracked the weapon as it spiraled away until it finally came to rest a few feet from him. He made a dive for the blaster; however, another hand also was reaching for it. More specifically, Redros' hand. The two riders took hold of the weapon at the same time, but it was Seth that grabbed it around the grip. Straining against Redros' attempt to pull it away from his hand, he twisted the blaster up until it was pointing at the Vulkar and shot him one, two, three times in the stomach. Redros slumped to the ground and lay still.
All around Seth, Beks were grappling with Vulkars, trying to wrestle the blasters out of their hands. Sometimes a Bek managed to gain hold of the weapon and start fighting back, but more frequently they would end up shot dead. Bodies were piling up, various colors of blood running together. The Beks who stood and fought were outnumbered and outmatched by the ferocity of the vengeful Vulkars.
Easily spotted by his signature orange jacket, Carth was holding his own against the swarm of enemies. A blaster in each hand, he downed Vulkar after Vulkar, the gang thugs no match for his military training and experience.
Mission however, was in trouble. Her blaster had been destroyed by a near miss and she had lost hold of her vibroblade. As she was frantically searching for it among the bodies on the ground, a hand grabbed her lekku and pulled her head back until she was staring into the grimacing face of another male Twi'lek Vulkar. She was weaponless and the Vulkar was hefting a vibroblade in a sickly green hand. Ironically, Mission saw that it was her own. Her breath caught in her throat. She didn't want to die, but all she could do was watch and wait for the killing blow to be made.
But it never came. In fact, she was very surprised to see the thin blade suddenly jut out from the Vulkar's chest. And appearantly, the Vulkar was too, an expression of utter shock frozen on his face as he toppled forwards. Seth stood a few meters behind the Vulkar, blaster gripped in one hand as he ran forward to grab his blade with the other. Mission knew that he would've had to make his sword curve in midair to hit the Vulkar that cleanly. She didn't know how it was possible, but she was thankful for Seth's special talents.
She pulled Seth's sword out of the Vulkar's corpse and tossed it back to him, which he grabbed and brought it to bear just in time to meet a heavy blow from an enraged Brejik. Seth staggered under the brute force of the Vulkar leader's strike. He had to block again as Brejik pushed his furious attack, each hit becoming more and more taxing on Seth's defense.
'Use your head Avery!' he told himself, taking a swipe at Brejik's midriff. The older man jumped back, the blade only scoring the silver armor he wore.
"You may pull some fancy moves out on the track wormo," Brejik jeered. "But in a real fight, you're no match for a real man!"
"When do you think I can get to fighting him then?" Seth asked flippantly.
Brejik uttered an feral growl and swung at Seth again. This time, his vibrosword broke the end off Seth's much more lightweight sword and continued until the blade smashed into the side of Seth's riding helmet. If Seth had taken it off, his head would now be in two pieces. Brejik took opportunity of Seth's downed defenses and sliced a short but deep cut on Seth's sword arm.
Seth's grunt was muffled by his helmet. Defiantly, he struck back with his sword, which was now almost a third shorter, slashing and thrusting over and over again at Brejik. He seemed completely oblivious to the blood running down the length of his arm. With one last blow, mustering all his strength behind it, he locked blades with Brejik. It was a test of strength now, each straining with all their might to force the locked blades against the other. Seth could see surprise register on Brejik's face as he found that Seth could easily match him in such a trial of muscles.
"Say your prayers wermo, because the last thing you're gonna see in this-" Brejik was interrupted by a snap-hiss sound and a bright streak of yellow that swept his sneering head right off his shoulders. Seth stumbled forward as all the weight he'd been putting against Brejik now had no force opposing it, and landed in a heap at the feet of his savior.
Seth didn't get the chance to see who it was, because she immediately set on the remaining Vulkars, her twin bladed lightsaber twirling and dancing through the air as it cut down enemies in droves. It didn't take long for the last Vulkar to lay slain at her feet.
Bodies carpeted the ground around them, everyone who'd been part of the crowd either counted among the corpses or had fled the site of the brawl. A strange silence suddenly descended upon the arena.
However, that silence was quickly broken as the newcomer, the brown haired woman he had seen in the cage earlier, turned to face him. "Well maybe those bloody Vulkars will think twice next time they try to hold a Jedi prisoner."
Seth realized in an instant that this woman must be Commander Shan, and he instantly set about trying to pry his helmet off.
"And as for you boy," she continued, her voice becoming as brittle as ice. "If you think you are going to take me as a prize-" she stopped as Seth finally managed to pull his helmet from his head, her eyes widening. "Wait, I don't believe this you're- you're one of the soldiers from the Republic fleet aren't you? Yes, I'm sure of it! How did you end up racing for these swoop gangs?"
Seth immediately fell into his military mindset, becoming straight as a rod in an instant and saluting crisply. "Private second class Seth Avery of the 2902 Infantry Battalion reporting for duty ma'am!" his voice was as clear as it would be on any parade ground.
"At ease Private, we don't have time for this," Bastila waved her hand impatiently. "Pleased to meet you."
"Thank you ma'am." Seth dropped his salute and relaxed his stance. She looked extremely familiar, but couldn't place her face.
"Bastila! You're alive!" Carth shouted, running from the opposite end of the arena. "Come on! We need to get out of here before the Sith show up to sort out this mess."
Bastila nodded and turned back to Seth. "The Captain's right, we need to get moving. Grab your friends, and let's leave."
Seth saluted again, turned and waved over Zaalbar and Mission.
It struck him in that instant, and the color drained from his face as he remembered where he had seen Bastila before.
She was the woman from his nightmares.