Podrace Calling All Daredevils & Gamblers! || Starship Race & Sabacc

[Aerin Denno]

Tags: Inhye Oh-chai
Objective 3: BYOO
Location: Adras

The cool Adrasi night was a welcome change for Aerin, who'd spent the last several weeks since the League's inception visiting its new constituents. She let the evening breeze refresh her sun-kissed skin for several enjoyable moments before giving the doorbell a ring.

As she stood there waiting, Aerin considered what exactly brought her here. Officially, Adras was a prime candidate to join the League of Autonomous Worlds - it was an agrarian paradise compared to the dustbowl planets like Sevarcos or Tatooine, perfect for producing a helpful sum of nonperishables in exchange for offworld luxuries. But in truth, Aerin was actually here to get away from the onslaught of bureaucratic nonsense.

She might have been the First Administrator now, but very few beyond the League's domain knew her as such; around these parts, where the RTL stood proudly just a year prior, she was simply Aerin Denno.

When the door slid open, the spacer woman let out a soft sigh of relief. Inhye Oh-chai stood on the other side, a pleasant sight after the lunch jump from Toshara. "Hi there," Aerin said kindly. Her lip quirked up in the corner, forming a happy little smirk. "Thanks for havin' me." She withdrew a small gift box from her backpack and passed it over to the Atrisian with a nod.

"This is for you," Aerin said. "Just a token from me, and a gift from the League." She wanted the Adrasi homesteaders to know that the League valued them, even from afar and even if they did not join officially. Inside the bag, Inhye would find a glass bottle of dark Kabalian rum with a lovely aquamarine bow tied around the neck. It lacked any sort of label on account of it being brewed locally, by Aerin's father, Huxley. Alongside the personal gift was the one offered by the League: an amberine pendant, hand-shaped by the Tosharan wind fishers themselves.

"I hope you like it," Aerin said with a smile.

 

[Dani Stellaris]

Dani was more than happy when the bell dinged. She was still listening to the others chatter and well, she was all for it. The blonde was wanting to get the race going anyway. She looked to the gathered.

"She's definitely a bit of my pride and joy!" She admitted. The one thing she could really share with most people was the ships. The woman loved racing after all. The starfighter combat was not so much but she still knew enough.

Some races were a cat and mouse. Some were more a tag race to stall out a ship and catch up.

"Call her the Slice Hound. Got the original frame on Corellia." She nodded as she looked to the trio of others.

"I'll see you out on the course then!"

The bell dinged again and an intercom went live.

"Last call for the Junk Belt Circuit. Pilots please begin to report to your ships. Race sequencing will begin shortly."

**

This was really where she was happiest. She took the Slice Hound out into space. The crews were given their map and the count down.

"Ladies and gentle beings! Welcome to the Junk Belt Circuit! Let's load up the leaderboard! And let's get down to the count down!"

For all screens that were tuned in, there was a countdown and the ships highlighted as they were fast approaching the starting line.

Dani grinned as she jockeyed for position. She saw the green and jumped her fighter forward.

Sor-Jan Skywalker Lossa Aureus Spek Zhio

 

[Lossa Aureus]

Toshara, Outer Rim Territories
Wayward Jumpsuit and Armor
Lightsaber, Turmoil, Concealed Blaster, Nasty-Stabby, Dual Broken Core Daggers
Skiptown

Dani Stellaris Sor-Jan Skywalker Spek Zhio
​

It was tempting to join in on the merrymaking and friendly banter. Her visor fixing the three of them for a moment at the idea. Quickly pushing the idea aside as the reminder of her goal cleared away the distraction. Another time she would be here to make friends maybe. These were competitors all angling for different prizes.

Her's however was entirely different from what the other three likely wanted.

A deep breath in focused her mind, drawing her back to that secluded dune she had found herself picturing on Jakku. No animosity for those competing against her. But hopefully they didn't get in her way. She had to put on a show, so maybe getting in her way was a good thing for the one watching her race. Was hard telling with some beings though exactly what criteria they were looking for. Trudging into the belly of her freighter to finish stowing all the loose things she had ignored in the meantime. Thoughts free to run their course as she busied her hands.

Would she at least get a sliver of information to point her in the right direction if she didn't win? Would they be willing to share everything if she won? How much time did she have to spare jumping through all these hoops looking for her daughter? Was she still alive? The sick feeling in her stomach grew as each thought compounded on another, until all she could do was close the container door and retreat to the pilot's seat to try and calm herself down. The cockpit viewports darkened with a tap of a button on her chair. Her helmet coming off finally.

Hands wiping away the tears as her mind settled on the worst possible outcome of her missing child.

Her breathing interrupted by the choked sobs as she tried to get the ship prepared. Each step of the sequence a reminder that she was no closer to finding Zeriana than she was the day before, and she was burning fuel with no destination or course to go off of. Frustration bubbled as she tossed the helmet aside, cradling her head in her hands and leaning forward to shut out the world around her. What good was she doing trying to be nice and play by the rules? It would have been easier to make a scene, to demand rather than deal, and take the information she needed.

The only rational part of her mind finally spoke.

That would make you a target. Announce a predator. And make others hide.

Piece by piece she began to rationalize the slow speed of her search. Calming enough to stand and gather her helmet once more before finishing the start up sequence of the Skiptown.

The intercom finally announced the start of the race as she finished warming the engines. Lifting off and drawing in the landing gears with a glance over her shoulder. About to speak to a droid that had long been gone as she frowned and turned back to the viewports. Watching the engine trails ahead of her as she queued.

"Ladies and gentle beings! Welcome to the Junk Belt Circuit! Let's load up the leaderboard! And let's get down to the count down!"

For all screens that were tuned in, there was a countdown and the ships highlighted as they were fast approaching the starting line.

Dani grinned as she jockeyed for position. She saw the green and jumped her fighter forward.

Behind the helmet, her brow rose as the starfighter punched it. A soft whistle passing her lips as she grinned.

"Should have brought the Zipper.” Shaking her head as she wondered about letting the ship shift modes. Letting her fingers dance across the buttons before deciding against it for the time being. Instead allowing the ship to reach it's maximum speed in standard mode for the time being to see what tricks the others had up their sleeves. Keeping herself as close to the starfighter as she could keep the Skiptown.

 

[Sor-Jan Skywalker]

Tags: Dani Stellaris | Spek Zhio | Lossa Aureus
Objective 1: Junk Belt Circuit
Location: Renpalli Station, Toshaal System

​

When the pre-launch bells rang and the intercom announced it was time to suit up, Sor-Jan waved his goodbyes and passed his good-lucks to Dani, Zhio, and Lossa. He lowered his pilot helmet onto his head and clipped the chinstrap tight. BB-7D chirped eagerly, prompting a much-appreciated head pat from his human companion. "I'm excited, too!" Sor-Jan said with a giggle.

He nestled into the pilot's seat and did some pre-flight status checks while BB made adjustments and other astromech calculations. "Ready?" Sor-Jan asked. The droid beeped in the affirmative.

"Patch us into Renpalli's comms," the boy said next. They'd need to be on the local channel to hear from the station if any callouts were given during the race. It would also give the pilots the means to engage in some friendly banter, which Sor-Jan was all too eager to partake in. He'd been adding all sorts of colorful words to his vocabulary during this solo trip to Toshara and couldn't wait to test them out.

As the announcer counted them down, Sor-Jan gripped the Xanadu's yoke and readied himself.

​

 

[Spek Zhio]

As luck would have it, Spek managed to register for the race just in the nick of time. The kiosk was about to close and some of the racing ships and their pilots were already preparing to take off and fly towards the starting line. The spacer did not even had the time to place some wagers on himself. Walking with haste, for he did not want to get a late start, Spek waved wishes of good luck to the few racers he had briefly met, as they all broke off into their own ships. "Good luck, everyone. May the best Zeltron win!" he jested. feeling uneasy, to some extent, by how Alcyone would react to his idea of entering them into a space race. Particularly one taking place on such a debris-filled circuit, without even having the opportunity to perform some rudimentary maintenance beforehand. Which, was the sole reason they landed on that space station to begin with. That hull seal patch would have to endure for just a while longer.

"Hey, kid," he called out to Sor-Jan, "stay sharp out there!" Maybe he came off as condescending but there was something troubling him all of a sudden. More of that pesky Force precognition, no doubt, that he could never figure out exactly what it meant until after the fact.

Then there was the somehow familiar female figure clad in an armored jumpsuit, who had not said a word to them. What was familiar about her, Zhio could not tell. Maybe it was the fact that her features were hidden behind her clothes and helmet, which reminded him of recent encounters with a - somewhat - similarly concealed woman. One he planned to met up with after getting his ship in order. Or, could it be his Zeltron empathic telepathy stepping in? Was that anguish, he was picking up from someone? Could that be the source of his apprehension, instead? Or rather, was he sensing some imminent danger to his starship and to himself? A race could not be harder than a dogfight where he was outgunned and outnumbered, and Spek had had his fair share of those. So that could not possibly be it... could it?

Nah! I mean, I couldn't possibly wipeout on the first leg of the race, he thought, as he entered his light freighter. Could I?

The race course info was already being downloaded by Alcyone, which caused her to greet him with a couple short roars of the imminent collision klaxon. She was not happy, as he expected her not to.

"I know, I know, this isn't what we talked about," Spek told his ship's computer, while making his way onto the flight cabin, "but we stand to make some good credits here!

"C'mon, Alcy! Have I ever steered us wrong?"

---

Dani Stellaris Lossa Aureus Sor-Jan Skywalker

 

[Pal Veda]

“Hyperspace explorer, huh?” Pal smirked a bit. Mars was here, in a Mirogana casino, surrounded by Hutts, Pykes, and Crimson Dawn types, playing thousand-cred-a-hand Sabacc. Hyperspace explorer was a nice euphemism but failed to shed any light on who the gambler was other than the fact he was trying not to shed any light.

Seeing as Rissk had already introduced himself, and now he knew Mr. Aloof went by Mars, at least in certain company, he figured it was his turn. “Pal Veda. I do a bit of hyperspace explorin‘ myself.” He paused for a second to let the waitress sit his beer on the table, catching her gaze with a sly smile and passing her a tip in appreciation. “Of course, this is Toshara. I imagine everyone here has visited a system or two in their day.”

Recognizing it was his turn, Pal took a card from the dealer and peeked at the number. 2. With a half grin and a cock of his head, he held onto the new card and discarded one from his hand. Lower, but still not Sabacc. One more round and one of these jokers may end up taking the first pot.

Keep ‘em talkin’. “I met young Rissk here on a job not that long ago. Pyke lieutenant turned on the family. They paid us a nice little sum to bring him in.“ He winked at the Trandoshan then turned back to Mars. “Toshara ain’t a place you stumble upon by accident. Surely you were invited by the Spacer’s League?”

——
Original hand: 3 + 6
First round: 3 + 1
Second round 1 + 2

Rissk Mars Raynor

 

[Inhye Oh-chai]

Objective: BYOO
Location: Inhye's homestead, Adras

The parcel ended up in her hands before she knew that she had reached for and accepted it. When she came back to all of her senses, she first realized that she was staring, and then that she held Aerin's gift in her own hands. "Thank you." Inhye forced the syllables out of her mouth before stepping back from the door to let Aerin through.

Back on House Chiyo's estate on Atrisia, she had trained herself to tamp down any attraction she might feel for Katashi's female guests. Though she had only lived in the Outer Rim for less than a year, it seemed like that was as long as it took to unravel her carefully-honed skill. Perhaps she didn't need to be as careful here. She was at no one's whim but her own—and her ORDC handler, but mostly her own.

Still, she didn't want to be quite so obvious, or make anyone uncomfortable.

"Come on in," she continued, trying to shift her focus to hosting from accidently gawking at one of her guests. "Shoes at the door, please. The first leg's just starting." She had heard as much from the living room.

The homesteader led the way down the entryway. Towards the end, she shifted the giftbox into one hand and indicated with the other into a large room that opened in one direction off the hall. "Holoscreen's in there." She continued walking straight, where the entryway terminated at the kitchen's threshold. "Food and drink's in here." She moved behind the granite island, set down the box, took a plate from the top of a stack of them sat nearby, and offered it to Aerin with a smile. "You can eat wherever you'd like."

Aerin Denno​

 

[Dani Stellaris]

The line was definitely always an interesting place in a race. What Dani wasn't certain of was that bigger ship that was starting on the same line as some of the fighters. Could be that they're handicapped? Most likely not. If this was a race that was an all-comers, it may just be fastest-ship to the finish. Some of the circuit races were a bit different, they had all ships racing, but some were handicapped to others.

Based on engine size and manuevering rating, really. Her ship was part of an older line, but still, it was mostly personally kitted out. Made it prime to use in these races that didn't have so many rules. She'd just have to keep ahead of anything that had lasers.

What she wasn't expecting was the two issues at the line. She didn't have time to figure them out as she was just going to keep focusing forward. Dani hit the throttle and the Slice Hound leapt forward. She grinned as she had her hands on the yolk and sent a message back to Mack.

"Keep an eye on those two, if they need anything see if we can help?"

She may be competing but Dani was a softy and wanted to help everyone out to the best of her ability. Biting her lip, she was focused, especially on that YT that was coming up. Shaking her head she pushed the throttle again. She had to catch up!

Spek Zhio Lossa Aureus Sor-Jan Skywalker

 

[Aerin Denno]

Tags: Inhye Oh-chai
Objective 3: BYOO
Location: Adras

Aerin leaned down to unlace her durasteel-toed boots. She pulled them off with more care than most spacers would, perhaps revealing the speck of poshness that landed on her during the last few weeks the League's de facto leader. Or not-so-de-facto? She volunteered and no one objected, at least. It was all semantics anyway; she realized by the end of the first day. It didn't matter much who was in charge so long as the spacers carried on spacing, the smugglers were smuggling, and the bounty hunters were hunting.

Of course, there was so much more to being the League than that, but those things needed to be guaranteed before the grittier bits could be sorted. Things like restoring local systems and pushing back against the Sith who'd settled in the RTL's stead were on the horizon.

Tonight, though, she was here for the race.

"Your home's lovely," Aerin said warmly from behind Inhye Oh-chai as she followed the woman inside. The decor wasn't wholly Adrasi, nor was it particularly spacer-ey either. Some flair of... Atrisian? Aerin didn't want to presume. She liked it very much. The gathering room was full of eager spectators as they passed by, but Inhye carried on to the kitchen.

"And the food looks lovely, too," she added, taking a plate. Aerin took a few brightly colored fruits and some roasted meat. "Have any bets on the racers?" Aerin wasn't a big gambler personally, but she threw in the occasional credit when the odds seemed favorable.

 

[Lossa Aureus]

Toshara, Outer Rim Territories
Wayward Jumpsuit and Armor
Lightsaber, Turmoil, Concealed Blaster, Nasty-Stabby, Dual Broken Core Daggers
Zipper

Dani Stellaris Sor-Jan Skywalker Spek Zhio
​

The Skiptown had started the race with engines roaring. Before quieting down to a dead silence as the communications line chirped. Her hands frantically dancing across control panels before cradling her head in her hands with a frustrated growl as the comm line continued to chirp. Scowling from behind the visor as she toggled the speaker, barking at the comm before the other end could get a word in.

"I know, I know, get off-” Pausing in her continued efforts to get the ship started as a buzzing cackle filled the cockpit.

"Stupa girl. You think we not remember?" It took a few seconds to recognize Scilla's voice over the line. And only a split second to realize exactly what that meant for her situation.

"You fethed with my ship, Scilla?” Her arms folding into themselves as she made a few facial gestures beneath the visor. Activating the beckon-call system of her starfighter. Hoping sincerely she wasn't going to need it as the rodian buzzed happily.

"Yes. Goody two shoe jedi gonna be a bother no more. You go boom now. Bye bye."

She closed her eyes as the comm cut out. A sigh escaping her as the first sounds of an explosion came from the core of the freighter.

"Feth.” Hand sliding to her hip as the white blade ignited. The seat lurching as she scrambled to undo the harness she was buckled into. The first licks of fire beginning to consume the corridor behind her as the buckle came loose. The blade extending forward and into the viewport as the helmet sealed itself. Fire consumed the cabin as the blade shut off, the force from the explosion behind her propelled her shoulder into the spot with a sharp cry as pain rippled across her whole right side.

The viewport gave way as the tail end of the freighter ripped itself apart. Barely off the start line as the shell of the ship split. Sending the cargo pod into its own trajectory as shrapnel of what was once her ship was sent in every direction. Her whole body spun and cartwheeled, throwing her senses for a loop.

Bright and dark blurring together as thoughts raced. Sharp pains tagging different spots along her legs and back before she remembered another part of her gear.

It was a struggle to conjure the thought as thr bright light began to dim, spinning wildly before the hud of her helmet shone brightly and the rocket system in her boots ignited. Becoming a haywire missile briefly as blood began to circulate properly and the stars became bright speckles in the dark once more. Slowly orienting herself as her hud warned her of more debris. A timer making itself known in the bottom corner of her helmet as the Droid brain in her starfighter tried to interact with her.

"Not now, trying not to turn-” The white blade ignited once more to her surprise from the death grip she had kept around the lightsaber. Swiping a piece of debris aside while slicing against the one side to send it spinning away.

"Into mincemeat. Hurry up please!” The rockets engaged once again as she made a note in her helmet system to find Scilla after she made it back in one piece.

 

[Sor-Jan Skywalker]

Tags: Dani Stellaris | Spek Zhio | Lossa Aureus
Objective 1: Junk Belt Circuit
Location: Toshara Orbit, Toshaal System

​

The Xanadu Fire bolted from the station when another racer’s ship, the one belonging to Lossa Aureus by the looks of it, seemingly exploded out of nowhere. Unfortunately for him, the explosion was right ahead of his own ship…

Chunks of shrapnel and burning starship debris peppered Sor-Jan’s cockpit at first, then pelted it. A sizable piece made direct contact with the starboard rail contact, one of the anchor points where the AD-1S chassis connects with its wing framework. The impact wasn’t strong enough to rip the wing off, but it did force his ship into a partial barrel roll. BB squelched at the unexpected maneuver, while Sor-Jan managed to spit a well-deserved curse.

“We’ve got this!” Sor-Jan said as he reached for switches and flashing buttons. “BB, get that contact repaired!” the boy ordered. Right away, the ex-Imperial astromech began welding and rewiring. In his ear, Sor-Jan heard the announcers on Renpalli Station commentating the explosion and apparent double-pilot pile-up.

“Ooo, did you see that?”

“I sure did! Racer Aureus seems to be out of the race - and likely out of this life, too, judging by that explosion!”

“Looks like Skywalker may also be down for the count - take a look at that wing damage!”

They were already counting them both out, and even worse, they thought the other racer was dead. “This isn’t good, BB,” Sor-Jan groaned. The astromech bleeped a reassuring note, then immediately squealed, making the pilot jump. “Kriff! What’s wrong, BB? What happened?”

His eyes snapped where the droid was telling him to look, and through the dust and debris, Sor-Jan could make out the shape of a person. “Is that Lossa?!” the boy panicked. “BB, we gotta get her aboard!”

Once she was safe, he could bring her back to Renpalli to get medical attention or even reship if she still wanted to race. Or she could copilot with him! But first, he needed to pull her into the Xanadu and make sure she was okay.

​

[Leg 1 = 1]
[Leg 2 = 6]

 

[Spek Zhio]

[[OOC: Accidental double post with no roll? Seems my browser crapped out on me and posted while I was proof-reading or something. Apologies]]

 

[Spek Zhio]

"Are you sure you've downloaded the right coordinates?" Spek asked his ship's computer, "That puts us right through this so-called Crucible here. Nothing but a ship graveyard... Humph! Guess they're after cheap thrills..."

With a jumpstart of the aft thrusters, they were off. Aerodynamics meant nothing in the vacuum, but the mass of the light freighter when compared to that of fighters, could mean a slower acceleration. Hopefully, the Alcyone's powerful sublights would be enough to remediate that. They still had the SLAM but that would be best left for a final stretch, preferably one with less hazards on the way.

"Slow and steady, slow and steady..." he repeated the mantra to himself. A blunder on the first leg could very much cost them the whole race. The ship was wide from port to starboard and bow to stern, but narrow from top to bottom. Spek's best bet was to rotate it and thread the needle between those debris. The real challenge was not to do it once or twice but to not engage the thrust vectors too much, sending the vessel into a spiral which would require more fuel and time to compensate for the inertia and reverse the roll. Even the slightest of delays in maneuvering into a right position in time could prove catastrophic.

Therefore Spek, flying the Azure Alcyone, managed to keep the angle corrections at a minimum, as if slightly titling the ship, and selecting the right path forward. Luck would pay a huge part of it, since visibility on subsequent hazards were often concealed by larger leading ones, and Zhio's ship lacked navigational data on the sector. Spek himself would never admit to it, but it was the Force showing him the path, and not just blind luck.

The Alcyone and the Slice Hound were neck and neck for the lead, though as Spek glanced over the aft cameras for visual confirmation on the trailing ships, he caught a glimpse from the Skiptown's hull being sundered. He frowned while returning his focus to the race up front. That was weird... It seemed to blow from within... Druk could happen to anyone at any time, even to the most experienced spacers. But none of the people on the race seemed inept enough to allow such a critical failure at such an equally critical moment. If it was sabotage, then unless they were being the target of some personal vendetta or bounty, it could mean that more ships than one were tampered with. Maybe other than playing the Jedi in shining armor, helping them could be useful, in case they had information to share.

Returning his gaze over to the display, after the one second during which those considerations rushed through his brain, he noticed the Xanadu Fire being caught on the wake of the Skiptown's destruction. Any other day, two for the price of one, would have been a great development! Now, for some reason... not so much.

"I'm just slowing down a little, Alcy," he answered the complains of his ship. "Look, we still have a narrow lead. The kid seems to be trying to help the other flyer. I'll keep a watch for now, but I won't leave those two to the void.

"Not if I can help it."

---

Dani Stellaris Lossa Aureus Sor-Jan Skywalker

[Previous Total : 7]

 

[Dani Stellaris]

Always keep your eyes forward. See what was ahead of you. Its what her instructor always used to say. Back on Rolas, Dani was one of the leading families in her house, but it didn’t mean she had to be held to attention all the time. Her brother was the one who took over the House, which left her plenty of time to explore this galaxy, away from Firefist, and help out how she could, and how she wanted.

Sometimes that meant racing, and using the credits to help others. But first, race, help the others after. They had staff to do that. And while she wasn’t certain what happened to at least two at the start, she knew there was the one ahead of her.

Keep pushing.

Roll 3

 

[Inhye Oh-chai]

Objective: BYOO
Location: Inhye's homestead, Adras

"Thank you," she replied to both of Aerin's compliments. When anything of hers was described as lovely, she often didn't feel much. Such a feeling, Inhye was rather sure by now, came from a deep fear that she would lose it all as quickly and drastically as she had lost House Chiyo's favor and been exiled. But, this time, butterflies of pride warmed the bottom of Inhye's stomach.

"No, no bets," she answered afterwards, idly watching Aerin serve herself from the buffet. "The elders of the village I come from taught me that every credit cast in a game of chance was like a stone thrown into a calm pond." Inhye pursed her lips and shrugged. "Now, do I believe that or use that as an excuse?"

She allowed the question to go unanswered as she turned back to the kitchen island and the box set atop it. Carefully, she first removed the bottle of rum with both hands, holding it in the air to admire it. "Woah..." Then she set it aside gently and moved on to the pendant. She drapped it over her right palm and held it up to the light, which shone brilliantly through the amberine. "You really didn't have to do this."

She turned to face Aerin again wherever she now stood. "I'm, uh, Inhye, by the way." Her name had been on the advertisements for this watch party, but she was suddenly overcome by the urge to introduce herself personally as well.

Aerin Denno​

 

[Aerin Denno]

Tags: Inhye Oh-chai
Objective 3: BYOO
Location: Adras

A red blush of embarrassment colored Aerin’s cheeks as she feared she’d asked a culturally insensitive question in her small talk, but she smiled as she realized it was less a matter of tradition than simply keeping the house in order. Aerin valued that, considering how nasty even her adoptive father, Huxley, could get at functions like this when the odds were not in his favor.

“I never have to do anything,” the woman said with an another smile. Her thick Kabalian accent shined through her words, revealing to anyone who didn’t know that she hailed from the Southern Systems. “I wanted to.”

She carried on, adding a few more snacks to her plate – she’d rather risk a comment being made about her portion than have to come back just to grab an item or two on a second plate – when it dawned on her that she’d forgone proper introductions. “I’m Aerin,” she said, setting her plate on the countertop and reaching for a friendly handshake.