| Posted by Xebidos (Darqwan) on 12-01-2001 | |
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Yawning, stretching, Xeb got rid of his sleepiness with a vigourous shake of his body. Unmoved, unfazed, the Pazurkan sun retained its constancy, a circle of light cut in twain by the horizon. Bathed in the morning glow of it and a good night's sleep, Xeb smiled fondly at it light an old friend. Grimacing slightly, he rubbed his jaw: he'd been silinig so much, his muscles were beginning to ache. Sith, if all the pain I have is from smiling too much, then it's a good day. Indeed, yesterday was a good day for Xeb. Literally flying amongst the clear skies of Pazurka without anything, not even gravity, to hold him down, Xeb found the sensation both uplifting and humbling. A sense of freedom, of release had filled his heart, warmed as it was by the gentle wonderment that was Teri. With the entirety of Paz at his beck and call, the Twi'lek did not want the ride of a lifetime to end, in many ways, he had yet to plant his feet firmly back on the ground. Since landing on Pazurka, there had been many moments that he had wanted time to speed by, but others too, when he wanted time to stop. With radiant energy bathing his entire being and shining into his soul, with the sky clear, the air still, the sound of gentle waves echoing in his heart and with Teri resting peacefully nearby, this was one of those times. Yet the part of Xebidos that had seen more trials than triumphs spoke with whispered certainty of the times to come. Though volunteering to race that day was partly inspired by Xeb's attempt to recapture his youth, now it came clear to him that it was also a way in which he could let it go. No longer could he afford to, no longer did he want to live for the moment alone, there were too many things he held close to him that would suffer from such an attitude. Now he had to think for the future and that meant leaving a little bit of himself behind. Just this last race..., he nodded, solemnly, to the sun. Next thing he knew, he was on an airbus to Aren City. From up high the race's starting point, the grandstands and the pennants mirrored each other in perfection of position, as if they were left there long ago by a long forgotten space faring race to mark their passing...and to perhaps mark their return. For Xeb, the view served to bring his spirits home. Hand trembling in Teri's, to say that the Twi'lek was nervous in anticipation for the occasion was an understatement. Once at ground zero, the feeling was overwhelming. Surrounded on all sides by the buzzing of excitement and expectation in sentient form, Xeb was submerged in a kind of pressure he could only liken to the pressure Xvrena had placed upon to race: the pressure to perform. ...and not to make a damned fool of myself. True to form, however, Getthel provided and ample, and timely, opportunity for Xeb to embarass himself. Blending in completely with the myriad cluster of races and race goers that collectively formed the crowd, it took Xeb several moments to remember that he was racing for Lerros Group, and another few for them all to convince the concierge droid to call them to confirm it. Once inside, Xebidos realised fully that this indeed was not mere fun, but an Event. Appearing to be only slivers of pink metal from above, the arena's grandstands were virtual monoliths up close, dwarfing Xeb and the others in a living wall of spectators. Everywhere Xeb turned, pennants fluttered in the morning breeze, a colour for all occasions assembled together for this one occasion. Every breath, every heartbeat, every molecule of air seemed to buzz with the static of anticipation, of grandeur, of racing. Xebidos gulped. And swallowed as he was led into Lerros Group's 'War' Room. Attended by guards, with the soldiers clustered in thoughtful preparation, the Twi'lek knew now that this was going to be more serious than not... "Your task is simple. You will each have a prime target to disrupt, harry, or crash. Destroy their race, then move on to a target of your own choosing." A whole lot more serious. With a slightly concerned look to Teri, Xeb settled down and read over his datapad, trying not to be distracted by the war room's General. Dressed as she was, Xvrena was more alluring than ever, yet it was plain now that there was a definite edge to her soft curves, an edge that was sharper than any vibro blade could ever be. And that was enough to convince Xeb to handle with care. Looking at the other races, Xeb tried to read their thoughts. Absorbed in their own readings, Getthel and Taytul seemed unmoved by the tactics to be used, whereas Rooko, to whom they would all be working for, looked nonchalant enough to make Xeb conlude that these were part and parcel of these races. Races that Xeb was beginning to want less part in. Having dallied only briefly with the vagrancies of under-handed tactics, the Twi'lek knew that he drew the line at safety. With 'crash' outlined as an objective, and knowing first hand how flimsy the sky slicers were, any crash, Xeb figured, was going to put the victim in a galaxy of hurt. So there was the dilemma, placed strategically, it seemed, right at the end of a long tour of grand atmosphere, the final hurdle that had to be made before Xeb completely involved himself in the race. He admitted that it had snuck up upon him well and to a certain extent, he had denied its existence. But faced with it, then and now, no Falleen, no matter how she dressed, could convince him to compromise himself. And no amount of credits either...I have everything I need, he turned to Teri, then Ahrkid in turn. But though principle held, Xeb knew that subtlety was needed. He still would race, that much was sure, but it would be his way. "Why don't we focus on Rooko's biggest threat first. We all know he's good enough to beat most racers, so once his main rival goes, who was it, Nagai Marow, he should be clear."