Race Among the Dunes

[RedneckLoves]

Race Among the Dunes

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Baldr wasn't particularly good at racing a swoop bike yet, but he wasn't about to miss a chance to try it. A large group of Acolytes of all ages had gathered and organized a race far out on the dunes of Korriban - far from the temple that was home to most of them as well as their superiors who surely wouldn't approve of such a game. Normally Baldr was quiet, introverted, and avoided the company of others. He was just a boy, however, and he'd rarely had a chance to make any friends for the majority of his life. There was a small part of him that desperately wanted companionship, though he would never admit it even to himself.

A hefty fee had been charged of each participant in the race, most of which went into a pot as the prize for the winner. Seeing as he had inherited his mother's considerable estate when she was executed by the hated Republic, Baldr had little difficulty in paying the price. He walked up to a large fellow who seemed to be the one taking money and handling all the betting by the spectators. The small boy was half the older kid's height and about a third of his weight.

Baldr Morrigan held out a small leather pouch filled with the required credits to participate and spoke confidently, "I'm entering the race." The big Acolyte looked at him skeptically, but opened the pouch and seemed satisfied with its contents. He briefly directed Baldr to a row of bikes then went back to his own business. Baldr felt a tingle in his fingers that was equal parts nervousness and excitement as he looked around at the others checking out their bikes.

 

[Braden]

Sigurd was here, but he did not know why. He was openly ridiculed when out in the open with these privileged Acolytes, they would laugh at the fact he lived in the pits, was almost a slave in their eyes. But he power kept them from abusing him when they were alone, many knew that even though Sigurd did not have ear of a Sith Warrior or Lord, he had the power to defeat nearly everyone who was present in the starting area. He was their to watch, he was not very skilled in a bike nor had the purse to enter the race. The excitement the thrill of the chase, the underhanded tactics, the imminent death that awaited every race.

He stood in his rags, walking between the swoop bikes assembled, he watched as those acolytes with money and with followers gathered in their teams, droids raced around doing last minute maintenance, or sabotage. He reached the end of the speeders, turning around to walk back through he spotted a young boy walking up to the vehicles. He looked almost as out of place as Sigurd, though his clothing and the saber at his belt spoke of money, though no followers came with him, no entourage, or droids. As he stepped up to one bike Sigurd approached.

"Not that one." He looked down at the boy and nodded to the another two bikes away. "This one has been tampered with." Reaching down he pulled lightly on the power converter, it nearly came completely off in his hand. An accident, a death waiting to happen.

@RedneckLoves