Log:SNSB Race in Space!
The first annual edition of the Shug Ninx's Space Barn sponsored Space Race takes place in the Sunbelt asteroid field. Competing are Verza Vimm aboard the Calamity, Stavros, aboard the Fool's Rush, Sajin aboard Yellow 13, Netep Muri aboard the Doaba Hermi, and Zhu Yan aboard the Redline.
Race Mechanics (and what was once the live scoreboard) found here
The Fool's Errand
The Sunbelt Asteroid Field has been transformed into a massive, free-form arena by the mechanations of a single pilot and the prescence of a hundred ships. Denizens of Nar Shaddaa - and likely beyond - have flocked to this shady, little system to sit back and relax in their own ships to watch the spectacle, or to throw their various hand-like appendages in in for a shot at the grand prize.
And, of course, there are asteroids everywhere. It is not going to be an easy course.
The propietor of Shug Ninx's Space Barn seems to have invested time and credits into the purchase of several droids, which act as markers for the racers to follow, each outfitted with an un-missable, giant, flashing light. Five in total dot the asteroid field, and racers are expected to pass each one - the first one to do so, through the twisting, treacherous course, will find themselves the victor.
<<"WELCOME, Y'TOUB TO THE FIRST - ANNUAL - SHUG NINX'S SPACE BARN SPONSORED - SPACE - RAAAAAAAAAAACE!">> The Coruscanti accent of Jehni'va Cihn screeches through the speakers of those present and tuned into the race's commentary frequency. The woman herself is situated on her own ship, the Fool's Errand, wearing a pair of ridiculous goggles which perfectly match those tied onto the face of the massive anooba in her co-pilot's seat. Her ship has been luxuriously outfitted to act as a VIP sectator booth, with holo-projections of the race set up at various parts of the hold, cushy couches, snacks, and a droid trundling back and forth to refill refreshments.
<<"Our racers approach our starting point now, and in just a moment will begin th'rush of a lifetime! Bu' first!">> She pauses, dramatically. <<"...A word from our sponsor.">> She can clearly be heard clearing her throat before reciting: <<"Come t'Shug Ninx's Space Barn.">> ...Apparently, that was it.
<<"AN' NOW! LADIES! GENTLEBEINGS! AN' THOSE OF YOU WHAT KNOW BETTER! ARE - YOU - REAAAAAADYYYYYYY?">> She can't hear the cheers, but she assumes that they are there. <<"When th'light turns green, our racers will be off!">> One incredibly unlucky droid shakily propels themselves to float in front of the waiting ships, a red light blinking atop it's mechanical head.
They say that you're never supposed to fly while drunk, and that is very sage wisdom. So sage, in fact, that Verza, upon remembering that the big race was today, took a load of uppers to make sure that the whiskey bender he'd been on was sure not to affect him. He's doing great, everyone.
The Calamity, the big workhorse that she is, meanders her way to the starting line under the guidance of the Galaxy's Greatest Spacehand. His palms are sweaty, his eyes are bloodshot and terrifying, but he's got it all under control as he swallows the lump in his throat and stares out of the viewscreen at the track ahead of them. "Verza Vimm's got it. Galaxy's greatest. None better. Propaaaaaa," he repeats to himself, gearing himself up.
The Fool's Rush
The HWK-290 freighter Fool's Rush rests at the buoy signifying the starting place of the race, engines humming with no light emitting from them. Stavros has checked over the systems carefully three times. He waits reluctantly, fingers tapping an irregular staccato beat onto the console. His left foot rests atop his right ankle, bobbing up and down to bleed off the nervous energy.
When the comm chatter begins, he leans forward into the controls, his restless energy shifted into focused attention and a small smile at Jehni'va's terse marketing. He has one hand on the stick and the other on the throttle, watching the droid float to the front. He has fingerless faux leather gloves on, and goggles carefully on his forehead, where they won't get in the way of his vision.
The Fool's Rush.... sits there.
Sajin was not drunk as he sat in the cockpit of his Ewing, sealed inyo his void armor. Bucjets was in the droid socket ready to do what he had to, try to kill his master by any means possible. "Bet you prefer watching from the stands." Buckets whistled a sassy affurmation.
The Ghtroc 720 is a bit of an antique, but a useful one and a personal favorite among some freighter captains who happen to cling to loyalty to the oldies but goodies. One thing the 'space turtle' isn't particularily known for of course is it's need for speed.
Which begs the question why there is one idling along in line with the other racing craft.
Cap'n Muri's voice whOOps over her own ship's comm to the masses, speaking to her personal enthusiasm for this bad life decision number 1,024...or whatever it is. Honestly, she's lost count. The little space gypsy is stuffed securely into an armored flightsuit, helmet sealed, just in case things go from bad to supremely worse in that proverbial blink of an eye. In all likelihood she'll be dead, but maybe there will be a corpse left to retrieve. Maybe.
"Ready Ormond?" she pokes a gloved finger into the squish of 'his' stalk, eliciting a ripple of striated muscle and shimmery colors. The plant-ish thing cants its open petals toward her in a slow but meaningful warning. She gets one poke for free - the second'll cost her. "No need to spit," she scoffs quietly under breath and nervously shifts her weight in seat with eyes on that poor, poor, poor droid. Fingers remain at the ready, prepared to calculate on the fly. What she'll lack in outright speed, she might makeup for in precision and anticipated calculations. Right? It'll be fine....
3... 2... 1...
A massive holo-projection, seemingly situated atop the Fool's Errand, projects a scoreboard above the ship, along with - yet another - 'subtle' plug for the race's sponsor. It is with that green light, that an explosion of engine noises and lights overtake the silent, darkness of space - they're off!
GREEN. Greengreengreengreen. Verza's eyes get even wider as the signal engages. "GREEN!" Verza shouts, hands moving from the steering column to both grab ahold of the throttle. They jam it forward and the Calamity's hefty block of engines flicker to life, spearing the freighter forward. Golden bloodshot eyes blink over to his terminal and his fingers fly towards the keys to begin planning out the best possible route, all the while just letting the ship go where it may.
His terminal bleeps quickly as it plots a course and the Pantoran exclaims happily before he finally grabs at the steering wheel and gets that big rig a'rollin!
Stavros slams the throttle full out, and the Fool's Rush speeds out from the starting zone! So fast - too fast! He jerks the controls to the right and then to the left, spending more time dodging the other ships in close proximity than actually making forward progress. So it is that he ends up falling out of the main mass of ships.
Then he presses the navcomputer's keys, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment, and pulls the hyperspace lever for a fraction of a second. He's back at the main group - adjacent to it, anyway. If the HWK-290 had a personality, it would be disappointed in the Zeltron right now.
While the light turned green the E-Wing sat there while others sped off. See, Hapans wre not good with their eyesight and it was possible that Sajin had a touch of the color blindness as well. Buckets whistled at him, "Wait it's green... Oh no!" He pucnhed the throttle sending the swift and agile fighter forward at full speed. some space rocks hit the shields but it's not overly bad. A few strings of beeps and worbles emit from the droid. "Wait... you're going to Jump. I didn't say..." It was too late, the ship lept into Hyperspace for a total of 5 seconds before dropping back into real space. "Okay... now where?"
The key to doing stupid shavit and surviving it is to not /overthink/ it. Just act and trust that your gut can be trusted! Such wisdom is no doubt what Fortune Fizzpop was talkin' bout when it warned her her ambitions would be her own undoing. Sadly, it's all Muri's got to fall back on at the moment because her computer's being an uncooperative little chit and coming up with bogus numbers and trajectories when she tries to plan the optimal route. So.
The Hermi lurches forward with a good, honest try at pressing those sublight engines to their max while she makes a beeline toward the first marker - or where the marker /used/ to be on her screen before the screen hiccuped. It'll be fine. While her right hand minds the throttle, her left reaches around Ormond to cue up the navicomp, poke out a few coordinates, gesture some superstitious prayer around her person, then crank an overhead lever.
The Ghtroc winks out of existance for a moment and reappears spot on target...almost. An easiy tilt to the right glides effortlessly around the asteroid that so suddenly appeared on her radar (IN HER FACE) and she rounds the thing to blip on by the first mark. A long exhale give her suit's air filter something to do by ghosting a trace of lum breath into the helmet. A wicked little grin angles around to the J9 seated catty-corner to her in the pit and she winks. "Pay up." They aren't dead yet, guys.
Here's the thing when you're Zhu Yan (what a man!), you don't do things by halves. So yes, he was late to the starting block in his janky, beat up, rusty YT-2000 that was missing some critical components like the preflight check computer and low-speed inertial stabilizers, but the diminutive smuggler never had a need for any of that anyway. He'd actually had to make a tactical decision, here. Did he bring along Reddie the Astromech, have her repair things in the event of an emergency, and make his life a /living hell/ with her constant nagging and nattering and demands for grandchildren? Or did he leave her at home and do it himself?
Yan went with the latter. It was easier.
The lights went green and the Redline hiccoughed through space and time and the pack in front of him evaporated. The view in Yan's viewport stretched, turned blue, and instantly reverted to normal space as the ship screamed bloody murder because it was in its fifties and therefore was getting too old for this sithspit. Stars and rocks greeted him, his sensors wiggled... I want to say seductively but it was more like jelly being vibrated into mush. There was a vague haze on the board that indicated that something behind them was called OO484_H3RM1 which Yan guessed was just debris. "Now where in the sithspit is the next marker?!"
The racer's mad dash from the starting line spins the poor, light-bearing droid around and around and around and a- oh, oh it's exploded. That is unfortunate. If Jehn had noticed, she would have felt terrible.
<<"Right out of the 'gate', several ships burst forward in a risky microjump maneuver - but in all cases, it pays off!">> Jehni'va commentates, excitement in her voice - and maybe a little bit of fear, because two of those ships are either A. hers or B. her employer's.
<<"WOAH! Doaba Hermi and Redline take a running leap right off it, our racers are gonna have t'race hard t'keep up! At the lead we 'ave Redline, followed by Doaba Hermi, then Yellow 13, th'Calamity an' - an' Fool's Rush is hangin' onto the tail! But what's this? Hold onto yer hats or other anatomically correct headware, 'cause our racers are about t'hit th'asteroid belt proper! They'll have t'keep their wits about 'em t'keep from dashing their... And... And my... Precious ships against those rocks!">> The racers are approaching the next marker - and a whole lot of asteroids. Did Jehni'va manually /haul in/ more asteroids just for this?
"WHAT ARE THOSE!?" screams Verza as multiple ships around him disappear and then reappear not far down the line. "That doesn't seem fair! Is that in the by-laws? Where's Jehni!?" It's a very real possibility that Jehni is still trapped inside of the bulkheads of the Calamity as a result of VV's birthday party. She will be missed. A dirty hand runs back through that stark white hair of his and he keeps his eyes on the prize, loading up another course for the next marker and pushing the big freighter to her limit. Narrowly avoiding an asteroid, the Calamity's still in the race!
The HWK-290 Fool's Rush slips past ships and darts between asteroids, belying its terrible start. Stavros attempts to slip around the next ship, a YZ-775 that dwarfs the Fool's Rush but is nevertheless outpacing it. A very familiar YZ-775... He opens a private frequency and speaks into the comm in a jocular tone. "Hex, you pirate, I can't believe you entered the race with your _home_. Now kindly shift to the port, the _adults_ are flying today." Even as he says the words, Stavros pulls to the left, bounces off a tiny rock pile, and guns the engines, hoping that "Hex" takes the bait and moves to block him by going the opposite of the direction he requested so he can pull past him.
Sajin had also found it odd that larger freighters were flying in this race. His E-Wing might not be the fastest in the realm of hyperspace but it sure as hell gave the rest of these people a run for their money in the sublight department. Buckets announced a boost to the engines and Sajin was thrown back in his seat as the small escort snub fighter rocketed towards the asteroids and next marker. "Prepare the next jump calculations!"
"HAH!" Netep barks a note of triumphant laughter, thrilled to be alive and putting the old freighter through paces it wasn't built to endure for long. "Yeah, we might be a barvy ke'dem, but least we wont' die bored, hey?" The flask nestled in her captain seat's pocket jiggles /very/ seductively as the Hermi's shields deflect small bits of debris with every close pass she makes, trying to keep the arcs and rolls to a minimum. The helmet is swiftly becoming an undesireable obstacle between her and her 'calm' juice. She may need to re evaluate her priorities here.
<<Look at us sorry lot, eh?>> she broadcasts with a mildly fearful (sweaty) grin while that left hand tries to coax some useful calculations from the ship's brainier bits again. <<That E-Wing looks like it has a right t'be here...can't say what our excuses are!>> Big lunks, by comparison. Specially Doaba Hermi's fat tail. A surprisingly cooperative bleep from the comp startles her out of her banter, long enough to peek aside and nod approvingly. "I like those odds..." and she banks a hard left, altering course just a bit, linging up Hermi's course /just so/ and giving it all the juice she can squeeze out of the sublights while it prepares for another hop. Nevermind the seemingly too-close asteroids looming up ahead. The computer says it's fine. It's fine. It's fine.....
THe Hermi squeaks out the other side, gamble paid off. Her cheer is audbile over comms.
UNTZ UNTZ UNTZ UNTZ. The Redline moved like a much faster ship through the field of rocks and debris. Was that a body? It might have been a body. Yan's talent for navigating anomalies wasn't rusty, and rocks were just big anomalies, right? He flew by eye until the sensors came up, then took glances at those once they started talking properly. "I swear I'm going to kill FabriTech." Because if you wanted budget gear, who did you ask?
The internal dampeners complained loudly as Yan took a somewhat sideways approach around a particularly large rock, he was MOONED by the FAT REAR of the Doaba Hermi, pulling a mad drift straight through the rocks that Yan was trying to navigate around! Ohhhhh boy! "<<Hey! HEY! Meeyuri! Where do you get off doing fancy sithspit like that?>>" Because if Yan could be counted on to do anything, it was WHINGE.
<<"Th'Rush and Calamity are neck an' neck, Yellow 13 holding solid right in th'middle of the pack, an' Hermi is creeping up on Red-WOAH! DIDJA SEE THAT, FOLKS?!">> Jehn all but shouts over her public frequency. <<"TH'HERMI HAS TAKEN TH'LEAD IN A SHOCKING UPSET! Sorry, race fans, I'm gonna need a minute t'catch my breath after that one - but our racers aren't giving me time for it! They're comin' up on th'third marker now! Or, as I've called it, th' corridor!">>
Now it's apparent that Jehn has done something with the asteroids, because a solid line of them have been arranged to form... Well... A corridor. It forces racers to get real close and comfy with each other to fight for space within the tight, tight quarters!
"Yes, I am Hex," responds Verza in that deeply Pantoran (read: South African) dialect. "Which one is port? I am Hex Ashkuri. My wife is very mean!" Verza says, still maintaining his best Hex Ashkuri impression. He's cracking up, tears streaming down his face in joy as he taps away to intercept the next course marker. And man oh man does he do a great job. So great a job, in fact, that he's distracted for too long a time and the Calamity goes crashing at full-tilt through a smaller-sized asteroid. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Stavros can hear Verza's tears and amusement. He doesn't roll his eyes, though. This is the perfect opportunity for an extremely risky microjump by someone who never attended secondary school! He debates finding religion, and instead opts to just pull the levers when the computer spits out its calculations, zipping past (and through, but in another - dimension?) the Calamity. Escaping into the Corridor, Stavros makes up for lost time, pushing the ship and risking a quick messing-around with the engine safety controls. ZOOM!
Despite how consitatn Sajin has been, sometimes that just isn't enough to boost thing as the Fool's rush comes ahead. He reaches the market and Buckets give him an affirmation. He pulls back the hyper level and the ship zips into hyperspace once more for no more than a few micro seconds. Reverting to real space, Sajin shakes the dizzyness from his head and the churning of his stomach from the jump. "I honestly prefer Pod racing." bucket whistles at him. "No it's not because I'm losing!" THe droid doesn't relent with his badgering.
The only response Redline gets from the Hermi is a peal of 'Little Green's maniacal laughter broadcasting over the shared frequency as the testudinal shaped craft essentially cuts off big Red. There might be tears seeping out the corners of her squinched eyes as Netep reaches overhead to crank the lever for a second microjump.
<<THIS AIN'T NATURAL>> she proclaims for all to hear, bulleting into the tunnel of rocky debris. It isn't so much an accusation as it is a shout of bewilderment. For one so well-traversed in the lesser trekked routes through backwater hells, she had yet to encounter something this....perfect. Also, terrifying.
Muri lowers her hand to focus on the steering bit a little while longer, double checking her calculations and trying not to fall prey to the optical illusions her weak, human eyes are like to entertain as they race at blindling speeds through this narrow, narrow shaft of doom. <<YAN....>> as that's the ship nearest on her radar, atm. Up her bum, really. Keep steady....keep steady...
<<Give my love to Stud Nuggets, if'n this goes t'oblivyn.>> And she's gone. The Hermi's gone, skipping through the rest of this tunnel with a blinked escape into hyper.
No. This will not stand. Whether or not Meeyuri liked having Yan right up her backside, it was not the place Yan wanted to be. As the Redline continued to eat the engine wake of the Hermi, the hairy smuggler came up with a plan that would, if it didn't kill him, get him the victory. Death or glory. Instant win or smashed into a rock at lightspeed. The Corridor, Jehn had called it? Well, Yan thought as he gritted his teeth and put his hands on the hyperdrive lever, he was about to throw a hot-dog down it.
The Redline burped as it blinked out and then back into existence, filling the Corridor with a spectral wake kilometres long. The ship screamed in agony as it was put through paces it didn't even know existed. "Alright, ALRIGHT!" yelled Yan back at the inanimate object. "Shut up! Sithspit! You're worse than the droid!" Yan liked the Redline because it couldn't talk back.
Forget about microjumping after the tunnel. Real men microjump IN it.
Fool's Errand <<"If you thought this was going t'be a boring race, folks, you were /wrong/! Doaba Hermi's lead is /quickly/ incinerated by Redline - but that's not all! It looks like - ouch! Calamity has taken damage! That's going t'hur- ah, krif, I'm fixing that, aren't I?">> Jehn clears her throat. <<"I mean- racers an' spectators! I fix all damage! At Shug Ninx's Space Barn! Come see us after th'race. ANYWAY! Fool's Rush makes a KILLER comeback, closing th'gap and worming its way into third place! Yellow 13 is still smashing those jumps, but can they catch up with our two front-runners? Maybe they'll have some issues coming into -">> The announcer pauses for dramatic effect, or because she forgot which order the markers were. <<"THE MAZE!">> Here, the asteroids form... Well, a maze of sorts - the space is clogged with them, asteroids of all sizes. Some of them suspiciously blink in different colors. That isn't normal.
The hyperdrive is beeping. THE HYPERDRIVE IS BEEPING.
"Why is the hyperdrive beeping?" he asks, before reaching over to pull back the levers. Moments later, he reappears in realspace, wide-eyed and screaming. And a few meters...further back from where he was when he left. The Calamity, probably just as confused as its pilot now, jolts back to life, picking up where it left off and chugging right along.
The deep-cleaned HWK-290 with brown paint is more engine than anything else, but its path is only as safe its pilot can chart. Stavros's eyes dart over the asteroids in the maze, trying to catch sight of the appropriately red, unblinking one. He doesn't see it, even after rolling the ship around its axis, so he chooses a promising path and leaves the matter to his reflexes. "Jehn will kill me," he mutters, if he collides with an asteroid. Also he might die, but he thinks if he were going to get himself killed it would have already happened. Remember: no education, much less probability theory. With the easy confidence of a fool, he swings back and past the red light droid into the final section.
"A MAZE?" Sajin blinks behind the helmet of his void armor. Buckets brings up a routed schematic... it's a little rough but it's the fastest way the droid can figure it's way through. "You have my almost flying through things!" The Hapan does his best to push through, angling back on the throttle for safetys sake.
Verza isn't the only one screaming.
Something blasts by on the Hermi's sensors in hyper. Or right before. Or as they exit. Time gets turned on its head really, so who the hell knows. When the navicomp blips and Muri snaps both sets of eyelids widely open, she's staring down a jumbled mess of party rocks. And asteroids. The allure of those colorfully, blinky 'asteroids' is seriously tempting but don't do it, Muri, DON'T.
She inhales a deeeep breath and blows it out sharply, resetting her inner sense of everything and restablishing a sense of oneness with the rubble-strewn expanse she's dwarfed by and navigating through.
This - flashy colors aside - is much more natural an array. Like threading Kafrene's field. Or similarily unnerving routes that only daft pilots dare traverse. It's peaceful, in its own twisted way. The computer is paid its due attention with occasional sideways glances whilst Muri becomes one with her ship and trusts her experience at the helm to guide them through, unscathed toward the next marker. "Times like this I wish y'had eyes, Ormond. And ears. Maybe a mouth..." The very solo pilot Muri caresses her plant friend more gently than before the race began, this time avoiding the tiny, carnivorous monster's ire. "You'd love the view."
The Hermi glides like a manta, swooping with ease over...under...an axial tilt...and so on. As chunky as the medium freighter is, it's managing a bit of grace through this tricky stretch.
"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY..." screamed Yan as he pushed the Redline's throttle so hard the lever strained in its hinge. It was just one of those ships that had to be flown at top speed for the ride to be anything close to be smooth. Not that the ride could be called smooth, so thank god Yan was strapped in.
"OH!" The Redline navigated the maze of asteroids like a drunk on a freeway, flying almost sideways through narrow openings and taking many many near misses to shave milliparsecs off the distance travelled. It could be called art, in much the same way one described a vagrant vomiting on a plate, or Hex coming up with a plan. "OH! OH! OH! OH!"
Freighters just should not /move/ that way.
<<"Look at them /go/, Y'Toub!">> Jehn boasts, honestly shocked. She thought that she would have generated significantly more repair revenue by this point - but apparently everyone brought their A game. <<"Now, our racers are approaching their last obstacle before the finish line - an' it is just a flat out race to victory!">> Beyond the last marker, another droid hovers in the vacuum, looking a little nervous. <<"It's gonna be a close one, folks! In th'lead we still have th'Redline, followed closely by Doaba Hermi, but th'Fool's Rush is closing in! Behind that, we have Yellow 13 an' finally th'Calamity!">>
"Benduday night is was late I was walkin' you home we got down to the gate and I was dreamin' of the niii-" CRASH.
"What the krif was that?" Verza asks, looking over his shoulder as if seeing down the hallway of the Calamity is going to help him figure out what he hit. In reality, the YZ-775 has just speared Stavros' HWK-290. Now, this is a very serious problem, because that's just sent the Calamity well off-course. Verza, realizing this, attempts to make a few corrections. The computer beeps in the affirmative once all of the calculations are done. Sadly, however, in the time that it took the computer to finish figuring out Verza Vimm's addled requests, the Calamity has found itself dug well into the side of an asteroid, with an unconcious Pantoran at the wheel.
Things are going so well! The HWK-290 flashes into hyperspace for mere moments - the third time he's pulled off this allegedly-difficult maneuver, and the hyperdrive isn't screaming like the video on the HoloNet said it would! Everything is coming up Stavros. Don't call it a comeback; Stav's been HERE for y-
The impact rattles the Fool's Rush and gives it an unanticipated velocity as it spins. Stavros licks his lips and overcorrects, but the momentum of the YZ-775 freighter has pushed him where the engines no longer will. When he reaches the finish marker, the small ship is facing the wrong direction, the left dorsal stabilizer is mostly gone, but not cleanly. Sparking wires hang from it, and the port engines flicker intermittently.
It is this view, plus the Zeltron giving a thumbs up and a smile from the cockpit, that will be captured by the holos in third-place finish for the ages. Good thing, too, because when Jehn catches him he is SUPER dead.
"Fighting TIE fighters is easier than this!" Sajin esclaims, shouting out in utter terror as he zips through the maz, smashing into an asteroid with seemingly wreckless abandon. The fighter's shields flicker as they compensate. Sajin looks out to notice one of the wings slight... off kilter. "Ah hell... getting back into Atmo is going to be... impossible." THe last microjump is made. As Sajin passes the finish line, if there's a photo taken it's hardly anything charming for the handsome hapan. You can't see him behind that Void helmet of his.
Calamity's misfortune does not register on the Hermi's pilot's radar. The ship vanished from her proximity scans long ago, and Muri's only got eyes for what's directly ahead, in these final moments. It's unclear even to her if the flash of teeth behind her visor is grin or grimace as the cockpit fills with the sound of complaintive drives and overtaxed engines. The shield array at least has been spared the worst of what could've been! She'd put the craft through more horrid predicaments than this. Exegol, for instance!
<<Ehhhh.....>> Muri's voice winds up in pitch as the ship makes a final run for the finish, captain leaning forward in her seat like that's going to make all the difference in its limited engine capacity. The Redline is too far ahead to be overtaken, but she reaches overhead for a final hop through space and time that maybe - MAYBE - will spit her out a little bit ahead.
It doesn't. <<YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH>> but she's alive. Suck it, Fizzpop Fortune.
Doaba Hermi sprints past the final marker like there's a FO Customs ship on its tail, the expression on its pilot nothing short of /focused/. And relieved.
The eau du Lorrdian hasn't escaped the confines of her flightsuit's seals yet, but when it does....
Chalk it up to nerves.
A straight run? Great! First things first, where was Yan? His sensor board was still blurry from those two microjumps but it showed him in a distant first with the Hermi somewhere far far behind him. "<<HA!>>" Oh, Yan, you're a good sport. He had time, now. The short human pulled a cable out of the panel to his left and plugged it into a slightly different panel, pressed a couple buttons on his control board, did /something/ to his internal compensator that would have any sane pilot gasping in shock and...
The Redline belched out of existence one final time, skipping forward almost a kilometre before re-entering realspace barely a few metres from the finish line.
Momentum was a wonderful thing. If one looked closely, they could probably see a short, hairy, Jacket-clad man standing in his seat flipping a VERY rude gesture to every single poor sucker not in first place as the Redline skidded in reverse, carried by its own hyperspace wake, into the metaphorical victory podium. It was pointless showboating, it cost Yan a few seconds of time, and the smuggler didn't care.
Jehni'va Cihn, owner of Shug Ninx's Space Barn, captain of the Fool's Errand and Fool's Rush, and pilot for the Calamity, can only watch in horror as the Calamity slams into her precious baby. <<"Well - there goes Calamity! It looks like... Yes, it is no longer moving. An' OH that was a close one on Yellow thir- I spoke too soon! Yellow 13 is bruised as well. Calamity is still there so we will... Have to retrieve that after.">> If she killed Vimm, she will never hear the end of it. <<"The Rush seems to be in better shape after that crash! It looks like nobody lost enough hull to lose air... At least I hope not! But WOAH there it is folks! Th'Redline flies across th'finish line first, followed by th'Doabi Hermi, and then th'Rush limping her way across followed by Yellow 13! You saw it here, folks - jury still out on th'death count, but I would call it a success! An' remember: get yer repairs at Shug Ninx's Space Barn! Compensation will be awarded upon landing!">>