The Harvest Day Race

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Teagan Stoirm"] | [member="Dunames Lopez"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] | [member="Konan Sunracer"] | [member="Dhakarta"] | @Carter​

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Harvest Day Race - DM​

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The day was an ordinary Tatooine morning. There were no clouds in the sky, there was no rain, and for once no sandstorms hung around the horizon. The track had been laid out all across Tatooine, cutting through the Great Desert Sea and even moving through the Jundland Wastes. Several Tusken tribes had been alerted, though their cooperation was...unlikely at best, but their 'participation' was a bit of a tradition anyway.​

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The Organizers had set up makeshift stands all along the route, huge hover domes and large platforms that had monitors and makeshift restaurants contributed to by the various sponsors and corporate entities that had given to the race. Security marked these areas carefully, ensuring the safety of the guests. It was clear that the organizers had taken every measure to ensure no outsiders would disrupt the races proceedings, dozens of security droids from the Corporate Sponsors as well as hired Mercenaries from Tatooine locals perusing the stands for troublemakers at all times.​

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Within the center of it all of course was the race.​

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Two Dozen pod-racers sat within the middle of the hastily, yet well constructed, arena. Male, female, humans and aliens of all sorts piloted the craft, and a giant countdown clock just above the arena marked the time of the races beginning. Looking up it would read;​

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10:00​

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Leaving the racers a short few minutes to make what preparations they still needed.​

 

[Jorus Merrill]

Last time I raced pods was right here on Tatooine. More stormtroopers than spectators, and a lot of good folks died. Grim day by any measure. So when I buckled in and watched the timer count down, better believe it felt like pissing on the Empire's shallow grave. Empires come and go. The Outer Rim is forever. When the bucketheads are just lumps in the dunes and banthas use the Star Destroyers for shade, there'll still be podracing on Tatooine.

My pod had seen better days. I built it when I was young and dumb, during the five minutes I was the richest guy in the galaxy. Now it had cracks and pits all over the duraplast, and I'd replaced the inertial dampeners more times than I'd changed my socks. But that baby was gonna hold together. And I was gonna finish that race.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Now that Dunames was back on Tatooine, she couldn't help but feel that hopefully, she will finish this race, and not like the last race that she didn't finish. Her last big race was a race where [member="Jorus Merrill"] also was around the racetrack, and she refitted the Gyaban 787 into the Gyaban 789, replacing the UH-2014A by an UH-2015, while also taking advantage of the latter's improved air-braking system. With Merrily seeing the limelight for the first time in years, carrying the flag, she had the pod towed into position on the starting grid of the podracing circuit. Luckily the Polydroxol didn't eat anything whatsoever before the race; just because she can morph into another form should she collide against anything, does not excuse her from having to take other precautions: high-G, high-intensity flying as in a podrace can cause someone to inadvertantly vomit, and, on top of that, eating can make her fall asleep. Which is a very, very bad idea.

 

[Dhakarta]

Grey eyes scanned her surroundings once more from within her helmet, as she flexed her hands within her gauntlets, making sure the Usenye was limber and responsive, or at least as limber and responsive as heavy armour got. Her Podracer had next to no safety features, so in the event of a crash, she was counting on her armour to save her life.

Not to mention the fact that she kept waiting for someone to shoot her in the back. Considering what was on the line here, it was a fair bet the Mandalorian Empire would show up in one form or another. Other than deserting and admittedly in a semi-public meeting making very clear her opinion on the state of her fathers people leadership, she hadn't actually done anything. Yet. Still, it was more than possible that to keep the prize out of a known dissident and Dar'mandas hands, someone might try something. Best to be ready. Always best to be ready.

She gave the Gev'iin another circle, making sure no one was too close or taking undue interest. Call her paranoid. She probably was. Even as she watched for foul play however, her mind was going back over her competitors. Barring any last minute entries, she knew roughly who she was up against, though most of them she'd not only never met, she'd never even heard of. Some she had though, and the competition would be more than stiff. She didn't really expect to win, though she'd give it her best.

No. She had other reasons for being here.

 

[Koda Fett]

TATOOINE​

MEYER HARVEST DAY RACE​

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The Mandalorian was often under the employ of the Sith Empire, frequenting their major and minor deployments all across the Tingel Arm. Even those that had delved deeper in relatively recent times. It was often on behalf of the Empire itself, however, specific contracts from individual Sith had begun to emerge. From Carnifex himself, and now from the Lady of Secrets. Raaf required something from Kurt Meyer, but that something wasn't relayed to the Bounty Hunter; cautious that said item of great importance may be taken for himself, sold to a higher bidder. The only piece of information Koda had on the figure was his name, his face, and this Harvest Day Race. It wasn't a lot, but he could make do.

If not for the internal operating systems of his armour, he may have to admit he was uncomfortable. The sun seemed to beam down over his figure, reflecting the harsh rays elsewhere. The Carbine he was prone to carrying remained slung over his shoulder, kept within close reach at all times. Fett was a wanted man now, after all. Wasn't much for entertainment, but the Pod-Race could do in the process of scanning for Meyer.

Koda resided in a secluded area, or so it seemed. It wasn't within the stands among the civilised, but instead an elevated area amidst the mountainous rocks that's placement was indescribable. For whatever reason they existed, Koda couldn't tell you. Leave that one to a geologist. It was with his rangefinder folded over his visor that Fett observed. There were notable individuals present, but they were seemingly occupied in the moment. Perhaps leave the questioning for after the race. Assuming they survived.

Let's hope this day was long. There were a lot of places to hide, a lot of places to go searching.

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Teagan Stoirm"] | [member="Dunames Lopez"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] | [member="Konan Sunracer"] | [member="Dhakarta"] | @Carter​

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Harvest Day Race - DM​

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2:49​

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The Clock continued to fall lower and lower, the readying pod-racers within the arena began to line up.​

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Everything was getting ready, everything was set. Those that had been placed on the starting line would be ready to race any minute now, the open arena filled with the roaring of the crowd as the clock continued to tick lower and lower. A few more seconds passed, and then the Anouncers voice began to boom over the entirety of the arena. The man was charismatic, tall, and easily recognizable as a Faleen. He was a representative of the Helios Racing Company.​

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"RACERS! GET READY FOR THE RUN OF YOUR LIFETIMES!"​

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The announcement was followed with a quick line of advertising, the mention of a dozen corporate sponsors who had kindly donated to the event and whose names would be featured throughout the entirety of the event. Then screens would briefly flash to the Host of the Tournament, Kurt and Jamie sitting in the VIP box surrounded by others of note and a band of Vanir Security droids. A small wave came from the former racing champion and then the anouncer called out once more.​

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"ONE MINUTE LEFT! LET'S HEAR THOSE CHEERS!"​

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The Crowd roared.​

 

[Dhakarta]

Dhakarta did not hop into her podracer. One did not hop in the armour she was wearing, nor was her beast of a podracer nearly as low as some of the sleeker, more stylish ones. She did however, clamber in. There weren't many readouts to check, she'd stripped most of them as superfluous. Either you were fine or you were going to crash and explode, some annoying little blinking red light or buzzer wasn't going to change that. So instead she kept her eyes on her opponents. Sizing them and their crafts up while on the side of her HUD the countdown continued to tic away. Some of the racers were clearly ready and keen to go, others seemed to be either still seeing to last minute changes or missing entirely.

It would be vexing if she'd come all this way and beaten this piece of junk into something that looked mostly like a podracer for nothing. But then, who knew, maybe when she got out on the track she'd actually like podracing. She grinned slightly within her helmet, might even win and become a galaxy famous podracer. Ha. And Herglics might learn ballet.

 

[Konan Sunracer]

He could barely hear the cheers from the crowd. The low rumble of his podracer and the enclosed space of his cockpit drowned them out. It wasn't a spacious cockpit by any means, but long flexible legs sat atop the dash as he waited for things to start. When was the last time he'd been in a podracer? Probably before he got thrown in the slammer. Konan plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled through tightly pursed lips, filling the cabin with smoke. He could tell things were getting serious though. The hairs on the back of his neck were starting to stand up and he got this feeling, almost like a chill, deep in his bones.

He rolled his shoulders and let his legs fall lazily off the dash as the timer in the upper right hand of his viewport got closer and closer to go time. He could check the readouts later.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

You spend a decade or so as a Jedi, trying to be a real one, and you figure you've mostly put pride in its place. Then a crowd roars for you, and it can't help but feel good. I gave'em a wave, because why not. All the lights ran green, except for the ones flickering yellow. Most of those stabilized when the electrocouplers martyred a pit droid. I did up my straps and watched the clock count down.

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Teagan Stoirm"] | [member="Dunames Lopez"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] | [member="Konan Sunracer"] | [member="Dhakarta"] | @Carter​

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Harvest Day Race - DM​

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0:30​

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"OH MY HUTT I HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS EXCITED!"​

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The voice of the anouncer boomed out over the stadium, deafening to the crowd and even more so to the racers. The Falleen practically danced within his little booth, and then he leaned forward before a small red button that would launch the race. His hand hovered, and the clock continued to count down.​

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He gave a wide smirk as screens all around the arena changed. Dozens upon dozens of camera drones flew out from everywhere, surrounding the pod-racers and zooming down the track itself. Within a heartbeat screens around the arena would show the first length of the race itself, a massive open plain that would stretch into the great desert sea. The Pods would take the first leg of the race in the open, and then move into tightly woven dunes that were rife with corners, turns, and deadly shifting sands.​

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0:15​

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"Annnnnnnnnnd heeeeeeeeeere....weeeeeeeeeee.....!"​

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0:10​

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"GO!"​

A loud blaring Klaxon rang out, and the race was on.​

 

[Dunames Lopez]

With Merrily out of the track and in the pit stop area, and any other attendant, droid or organic, dedicated to taking care of the pods, Dunames knew that, at the sound of the klaxon, the time has come for her to start the race. And here she was grateful for the UH-2015 engines sporting much-improved reverse thrust: it allowed her to turn left much tighter from the inside, without having to bleed speed for too long. Now, the main opponents she need to watch out for, namely [member="Dhakarta"], [member="Konan Sunracer"] and also [member="Jorus Merrill"], are not to be taken lightly, while knowing two of them ride pods that have seen better days. But if any of the opposing racers did, in fact, overtake her, she will have to get behind them before opening fire: it's just the way axial weapons worked. Meanwhile, Althea was in the press gallery, following the race for the First Order State Media and followed every major race ran by First Order pilots away from First Order space, and even the big ones in FO space. In the gallery there were several journalists, such as the Podracing Quarterly media crew, also curiously and anxiously watching the racers' every move.

"Unlike Phu, where Dunames started the Phu-Phuii Classic from the bottom of the grid, here she started from the first line"

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Right engine, check. Left engine, check. Center engine, extremely tentative check.

For all the testing and work he'd done on it, Cotan's podracer was still very much a prototype.

His entire time down in the pit was spent running through a checklist of items to make sure the podracer would run and hopefully survive the race, and doing everything he could to avoid thinking about the other racers. He knew [member="Jorus Merrill"] would be alright; the other racers, though, he had no clue. Given the generally semi-lawless nature of podracing throughout the galaxy, he didn't have particularly high hopes for a clean race, and watching and worrying over the other racers would only serve to make him more paranoid and less ready to deal with it if anything did happen.

The downside of his testing was that he had just finished the third run of all the tests, any of his nervousness at podracing (given that, unlike most of the others, he was entirely new at the sport) being fully directed at his vehicle than at anything else present. "Alright, I guess this thing's going to work," he muttered to himself, hopping into the seat of his podracer and pulling down his helmet. With the flick of a switch, all his engines were fully active and idling, ready to accelerate him far faster than any vehicle that wasn't a starship had any right to move.

At the last second, he glanced over to where Jorus was waiting, giving the man a quick thumbs-up. Showing camaraderie with the man who was sort-of almost his boss.

And hoping that the only other man he could reasonably expect to run a clean race would do so.

Immediately afterwards, the klaxon that signalled the start of the race went off; Cotan hit the accelerator, his podracer zooming out onto the open plain along with all the others, quickly overtaking some of the slower ones. Even then, he didn't push the engines to the absolute limit, relying mainly on the two regular ones he had, saving the turbocharger for later. Can't show all my tricks at once.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Cotan Sar'andor"][member="Dunames Lopez"][member="Konan Sunracer"]@Dhakarta@Koda Fett [member="Kurt Meyer"]

Wouldn't you know it, I hit trouble before we'd gone a hundred yards. Some cyborg chucklehead in front of me tossed a thing. I got a split-second impression of a fireball and yanked my yoke sideways. The thing blew past me: a tiny thermal detonator on an itty-bitty parachute. If that had gone in my engine intakes, I'd have been toast. Crumbly toast. With no jam whatsoever.

Didn't much envy anyone behind me. That detonator looked like bad news.

I triple-checked the inertial dampeners and punched it. The front end of my right engine poked the cyborg's pod, just a touch but enough to crinkle steel. A few duraplast chips slashed past my face, close enough to shave. The cyborg's pod came apart at the power couplers.

Biiiig mess. Yup.