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Under a cloudless sky, across the sun-beaten mesas and plains of Zygerria, hundreds of thousands of spectators flocked to the stadium in the East Province for the annual podraces to begin. Announcers, vendors and music bands kept the amassing crowds entertained, awaiting the pilots and vehicles to emerge onto the track. It was the first race of the season. Competition was fierce, often violent, which attracted all the more fans and visitors to the prosperous slave world. Cities throughout the East Province reaped large profits from the yearly influx of showgoers, advertising the event on every street corner.
Edej didn't understand the appeal of it all. Podracing. The crowds and engines were far too noisy and smelly for her liking. What was so fun about watching hunks of metal fly around in circles? People really wanted to lose their lives over this…"passion"?
She would avoid going to these races if she could. But it wasn't her call.
Golden horns glinted in the sunlight as the Chironian stepped out from the hangar, her jewel-encrusted harness hitched to a sleek podracer as she joined the lineup of contestants - the only sentient among beasts and droids found in hauling their owners' vehicles onto the starting grid. The booming audience was deafening to Edej's sensitive ears, barely muffled by her long, thick mane; much to her chagrin, though she had no choice but to walk on and bear it patiently.
Among the names of contestants exuberantly announced was one of East Province's local Zygerrians, Shyael Johzarr, daughter of renowned baron Branus Johzarr. Family wealth had lavished this noblewoman with the finest ship builders, mechanics and trainers. Regardless of how much was foul play, raw talent or balls of steel, Shyael had landed several wins throughout her twenty-year career, becoming a crowd favorite. Of course her father had placed heavy bets that his own House would "steal" the gold, this time, in kicking off the season. Quite literally, beneath the nose of the public. The baron was careful to balance his daughter's number of wins, keeping the playing field "fair" for other competitors, else the crowd's interest would wane. Too long of a winning streak would raise suspicion that Branus had indeed used illicit methods - usually in the form of bribery - to secure nearly every one of Shyael's victories.
Not that financial gain had been his motive all along, in propelling his daughter's podracing career. Shyael had no small inner fire for piloting, herself, thoroughly enjoying the thrill of the sport. If not for her interest, Branus would have never cared to partake in these races. Monetary winnings were of little value to his substantially wealthy House. But an extra bit of fame and glory…Why not? Deep down, one could argue that he was simply being a supportive father, giving his daughter happiness and success in her pursuits.
As the pilots and pit crews performed their final checks, the flag-bearers would parade their way across the track—Edej lifting high the emerald, maroon and gold banner of House Johzarr, the same colors and House insignia emblazoned on her halter top. Remember to step high, step proud—she did, lifting each leg cleanly in a slow, collected prance. If her performance slackened by a hair, her master (and mistress) - always keeping an eye on such details - would be sure to harp on her case later on. She did not want to lose their favor. Or worse, her horns.
Once the flag ceremony was over, Edej would return to the podracer hangar, where the noise of the stadium was a dull roar to her ears, quiet and peaceful compared to the boisterous commotion out on the track. Her service would not be needed until the race was over. Only then could she breathe a sigh of relief, if everything had gone well with the race and the Baron found no fault with her performance. She would then have the honor of towing the podracer back home to the Johzarr Manor, which Edej honestly looked forward to. "Home" was more tranquil and comforting. For her, at least.
Until then, Edej would keep to herself in the hangar, venturing over to the pens to pet the blurrgs that the Baron's guards had ridden on their way over. Even without a transmitter chip planted in her head, the Chironian's size alone prevented her from sneaking away and escaping if she wanted to. And even then, her eternal confoundedness over technology and limited communication practically rendered her helpless in being able to navigate galactic civilization. Either way, she was stuck here.
Malok
Edej didn't understand the appeal of it all. Podracing. The crowds and engines were far too noisy and smelly for her liking. What was so fun about watching hunks of metal fly around in circles? People really wanted to lose their lives over this…"passion"?
She would avoid going to these races if she could. But it wasn't her call.
Golden horns glinted in the sunlight as the Chironian stepped out from the hangar, her jewel-encrusted harness hitched to a sleek podracer as she joined the lineup of contestants - the only sentient among beasts and droids found in hauling their owners' vehicles onto the starting grid. The booming audience was deafening to Edej's sensitive ears, barely muffled by her long, thick mane; much to her chagrin, though she had no choice but to walk on and bear it patiently.
Among the names of contestants exuberantly announced was one of East Province's local Zygerrians, Shyael Johzarr, daughter of renowned baron Branus Johzarr. Family wealth had lavished this noblewoman with the finest ship builders, mechanics and trainers. Regardless of how much was foul play, raw talent or balls of steel, Shyael had landed several wins throughout her twenty-year career, becoming a crowd favorite. Of course her father had placed heavy bets that his own House would "steal" the gold, this time, in kicking off the season. Quite literally, beneath the nose of the public. The baron was careful to balance his daughter's number of wins, keeping the playing field "fair" for other competitors, else the crowd's interest would wane. Too long of a winning streak would raise suspicion that Branus had indeed used illicit methods - usually in the form of bribery - to secure nearly every one of Shyael's victories.
Not that financial gain had been his motive all along, in propelling his daughter's podracing career. Shyael had no small inner fire for piloting, herself, thoroughly enjoying the thrill of the sport. If not for her interest, Branus would have never cared to partake in these races. Monetary winnings were of little value to his substantially wealthy House. But an extra bit of fame and glory…Why not? Deep down, one could argue that he was simply being a supportive father, giving his daughter happiness and success in her pursuits.
As the pilots and pit crews performed their final checks, the flag-bearers would parade their way across the track—Edej lifting high the emerald, maroon and gold banner of House Johzarr, the same colors and House insignia emblazoned on her halter top. Remember to step high, step proud—she did, lifting each leg cleanly in a slow, collected prance. If her performance slackened by a hair, her master (and mistress) - always keeping an eye on such details - would be sure to harp on her case later on. She did not want to lose their favor. Or worse, her horns.
Once the flag ceremony was over, Edej would return to the podracer hangar, where the noise of the stadium was a dull roar to her ears, quiet and peaceful compared to the boisterous commotion out on the track. Her service would not be needed until the race was over. Only then could she breathe a sigh of relief, if everything had gone well with the race and the Baron found no fault with her performance. She would then have the honor of towing the podracer back home to the Johzarr Manor, which Edej honestly looked forward to. "Home" was more tranquil and comforting. For her, at least.
Until then, Edej would keep to herself in the hangar, venturing over to the pens to pet the blurrgs that the Baron's guards had ridden on their way over. Even without a transmitter chip planted in her head, the Chironian's size alone prevented her from sneaking away and escaping if she wanted to. And even then, her eternal confoundedness over technology and limited communication practically rendered her helpless in being able to navigate galactic civilization. Either way, she was stuck here.
Malok
