The Dragon Void Run

[Acheli San Maronea]

If you're just tuning in to HoloNet Band 674, you're in for a real barnstormer folks. The Palaroo Amino Slam Sluis Van Invitational is entering its decisive hour. I'm Gawlrir Kanto, and with me in the Palaroo Amino Slam booth is the one and only Vokroo. After two days of interstellar coursing, a field of sixty four racers has thinned down to a pack of twenty six. We've lost twenty-seven to damage, nine have run out of fuel. We're sad to inform you that Gannt Ruvor from the Covenant Corsairs and freelancer Woprish Wurruoroh have both been destroyed with a loss of all hands on their racers. Folks, I don't have to tell you these interstellar races are dangerous. These pilots are pushing themselves and their ships to their limits. We hate to see any loss of life on the course, but space is a dangerous place. As we head into the dramatic final parsecs, how is the race shaping up, Vokroo?

Well, Gawlrir, a pack of four ships are poised to contest the finish line. They've each got at least a half parsec on the fifth position, so it's safe to say that we're looking at a fight to the end. Fourth position is an interesting racer. Sponsored by Haor-Chall Hiveworks, PPT-5540 is one of three non-organic racers competing today.

What's so special about PPT?

I'm glad you asked, Gawlrir. The Hiveworks team is really proud of this model. It's programmed with a redundant computational array that allows it to calculate over ten thousand course corrections per second.

That sounds pretty impressive. What about third position?

It's none other than Ottan Resk, the Spirit of Mandalore. He's a perennial contender, and it's no surprise to see him at the top of the heap today. Of course his MandalMotors SK7 is extensively modified, but the race marshall assures us that all of the modifications are above board.

Still, the incident Gannt Ruvor...

...happened in a blind spot in the course. Unless there's something that says otherwise, that's incidental contact.

That's just the kind of thing that gives Ottan Resk the kind of reputation he's known for.

Well, sometimes it pays to be infamous.

Well, infamy is one end of the spectrum, and at second position we've got the crowd favorite.

You bet! You can go from one corner of the galaxy to the other and you'll never mistake Captain Maron's Quasar Fantastic for any other ship.

She's an amazing contender, that's for sure. What's she doing differently here?

Well, Maron's always leveraged speed over tricks, so it's no surprise that she's tried to leverage herself in the straightaways. But with all of the solar activity in this stretch, she's had to be careful. One errant solar flare could put her out of the race completely.

Not to mention messing up that brilliant paint job!

She'll be hard pressed against the local favorite. J'Quiissh K'rrisshii circles this date on the calendar every rotation. He knows the Sluissi course better than any sentient in the galaxy.

That's right, Vokroo. He may not have the speed, but his custom-built ship is nimble and tough, and has the shielding to take a bruising. He's known for cutting across the stellar corona to gain a nose on his opponents.

You can bet that he'll know exactly where Maron and the rest of the pack are at any point.




The Sluissi red giant star dominated the cockpit vista, being artificially dimmed by the screen controls to a tolerable level. Maron sat in her seat in the calm before the storm, content to maintain her cruising speed through this leg of the race. Soon, she'd need to make a move, but racing was a game of timing. For now, she controlled what could be controlled. The Selonian fetched her water bottle, squeezing a few mouthfuls down. She wiped her muzzle with a gloved hand. There was a cool seriousness to her demanor. They were nearly at the tip of the spear. J'Quissh's engine glow could barely be seen in the distance ahead, just beyond the immense red orb that swallowed half her field of vision.

"Freddie, how's everything holding together?"

[Fredal Rabeak]

The gray-furred Nehantite glanced from screen to screen in his co-pilot's seat, fingers subtly adjusting power balances, fuel mixture ratios, and shield harmonics through myriad toggles, dials, buttons, and switches. He kept his head down, avoiding looking at the viewscreen ahead and it's intense brightness, focusing on his job.

His job. His real, honest-to-goodness, full-time job. Freddie could still hardly believe it. After a 30-day probationary run, and a week of deliberation, he was a full-fledged member of the Quasar Fantastic race crew - his new shirt even said so, and had his name on it! A smile crossed his young muzzle as he thought about it, and it was evident in his voice as he replied, "Going strong. Engine three's got some minor fluctuation, but it's well within spec. I'll look at it tonight."

Sweeping his paw over to another screen, he flicked through data points, glad he didn't have a proper co-pilot's flight yoke to get in his way. "But we're gonna need to push to gain on J'Quissh. Either that or dip closer to the star, beef our shields on that side, and use the gravity well to slingshot us. Still, second today wouldn't kill us. This is J'Quissh's back yard, and he won't be near as much a threat on any of the other legs.:

A second place finish today would still put them well within striking distance of first place in the overall race, by Freddie's calculations. In both overall time, and placement point spread, the Quasar Fantastic had put on an excellent show, and they still had Freddie's shield-based thrust vector amplifier they could try - if it worked properly. The teenager glanced down at cap covering its activation switch, with the word "NO" written on it in marker.

[Acheli San Maronea]

Pride didn't drive Maron the way that it pushed some ace pilots on the circuit. She was a professional, and there was a code she lived by as a professional. Everything Freddie said was correct. Unless something drastic happened, they were comfortably in the money. Top five racers won a purse. With the race coming down to a pack of four, that meant that as long as they finished, they were bringing in a prize. Even if they took damage and couldn't finish under their own power in the leader pack, the raft of sponsors Maron had on her jacket effectively covered their overhead. What they could win beyond that, that was the real difference.

The key was in the calculation and the risk. Maron was dancing on the razor's edge of a dozen different contingencies, weighing the most conservative options against the most brazen, and trying to run the final leg of the race in her head as much as possible. That would leave her with only a simple understanding - there were always more variables at play than the ones you could see. Still, it was a continuously refining process to control what could be controlled. If there was anything for the Selonian to hitch pride onto, it was her constant quest to make the right choices.

"Gee Three Tee, plot a HUD overlay of the coronal solar wind patterns."

A cooing beepboo chimed from the integrated droid brain, calling up the information on demand. Maron spent the next minute looking at the holographic representation of the miasma of stellar radiation. Her small dark eyes flicked left and right as she studied the soup, looking for something to speak to her.

"There."

She looked at Freddie to see if he noticed it too. When realization didn't brighten on his face, she reached up a paw, dragging one of her broad fingers along a crease of deep red forming like an undulating snake against shades of brighter red.

"A thermal subversion. A stream of slightly cooler plasma subsuming deeper into the corona. Looks like a difference of a hundred thousand standard, more or less."

Which, for the rest of the corona's temperatures of nearly a million standard, meant dealing with bad instead of really bad.

[Fredal Rabeak]

Freddie's pink eyes attempted to follow the mess brought up on the overlay. It was a test, he knew it, but a test he failed until the answer was pointed out. Ears drooping a touch at being caught not knowing something apparently important, he squinted at it again, starting to wonder if he needed glasses.

A hollow in a sandstorm, the Nehantite equated it to. Yeah, you could manage to walk it, but you certainly didn't want to. Still, compared to bearing the full blast, the minor refuge of a hollow seemed like heaven if you were trapped in a sandstorm.

But this wasn't a sandstorm, and there was no need to be trapped in it. No need except that it just might clinch first place. Something fizzed inside the boy as he split his attention between the overlay and his control panel, fingers tapping over keys and flicking through screens as the turbocharger in his brain spun up, fed by a flow of ideas.

"If we can follow that, we can sling into first - if everything goes right," he announced, basing everything upon his first impression, and the understanding that solar coronas, plasma streams, and the like were all standard. It probably wasn't a good time to mention he'd gotten a D in Astrophysics, in school.

"But we're gonna have to tank the shields hard," came his follow-up. "If we crank engines one and three to max, we won't lose velocity, but I need to drop two into basically being just a generator to feed the shields. And we're probably gonna have to cut life support for a bit, so I hope you don't mind stale air."

Don't fart. This would be, like, the worst time to fart. his mind told him, though his face cringed for all the world to see.

As a trial run, he pulled up the engine and shield control systems, then chewed on his lip as his expressions performed gymnastics of calculations and best guesses. "We're gonna go through all the capacitors and relays in engine two if we do this, but we can make it, even if we just get up to speed and use momentum to the finish."

And maybe some in the shield generator, his mind added, but he kept that one to himself.

[Acheli San Maronea]

Maron didn't emote the way that humanoids did. So much of their emotions were projected on little contortions and movements of their face. Instead, the Selonian projected her excitement with bright eyes.

"That's a good plan."

In other words do it.

"Keep the power plant in the black and the coolant online, and I'll keep us in the crease. If we both can do that, we might pull this off."

Maron balled up a paw into a fist, holding it in front of her mechanic expectantly.

[Fredal Rabeak]

Ears bursting back up, pink eyes wide and sparkling with joy, Freddie couldn't hold back a goofy, throat-stuck giggle as he eagerly returned her fist-bump. He just got a fist-bump from Maron! How cool was that?

The extreme rush of emotion had slammed into him like a tidal wave, and only as it began to wash by did he recall what he was supposed to be doing. Fingers flicked over switches, hit buttons, and drove levers forward or back as he rerouted their power. The Quasar Fantastic groaned behind them at the change in strain upon her engines, forced to push with all her might on two, while one spun up without being able to convert its energy into thrust.

In seconds, Freddie's plan found itself put to the test. A wall of solar plasma hammered against their shields as Maron dove through it, but the shields held, and moments later his sensors displayed the heat dissipating - some. A glance up through the cockpit window, and immediatley Freddie had his head down again, focusing only on his controls and readouts. The blazing, almost blinding tendrils of solar miasma and waves of visible radiation burned like fire before him, and he could feel his back crawl, despite knowing much of it no longer had the capability to register sensation.

"Holding well," he announced, though temperatures were starting to climb again. Shields were meant to block high-velocity matter, as well as plasma, but they were never intended to sustain it for long. Only by continuously charging them would the be able to hold, and he watched his gauges with the eyes of a hawk. Small adjustments here and there kept things balanced, slowly ramping up power output from engine two, while pulling from other sources. For the moment, life support was safe, but at the rate temperatures were climbing, he'd have to dip into that power supply sooner than he had expected.

"Still holding," he called out again, though there were nerves in his voice, and he didn't dare look up. Not at the sun, at its fire, at its... flames. A jarring wave of intense radiation slammed against their shields, jolting them, and Freddie let out an uncharacteristic yelp of fear before biting his lip, already silent cursing his own cowardice.

I can do this. I can do this. I can make it. I'm not piloting. I'll be okay. The words ran over in his mind as he slowly began to turn off unnecessary systems to reroute their power to the shields.

"We're catching him up!" the young Nehantite then announced, eyes tracking to the race monitor screen. It was then that the life support went, and with it the soft refreshing breeze through the cabin. In his mind, Freddie wondered how warm it was actually going to get.

[Acheli San Maronea]

The atmospheric scrubbers and other readouts on life support blinked on Maron's HUD. She only spared a glance, nothing to be done about that now. Her paws clenched tight at the yoke, keeping the responsive controls from juddering too much with stellar turbulence. One wrong pitch could take them out of the crease, and that would be a turn for the drastically more perilous.

"It's fine! Redistribute the power back to the shields! Take it all!"

The Selonian's tongue pressed into the cleft of her upper lip as she instinctively leaned forward. They were almost to terminus. Just another couple of hundred thousand kilometers.

"The moment we're thrown clear, throw twenty CC's of hypermatter into the line! We'll hit open space like a mynock out of hell!"

[Fredal Rabeak]

The power was already going to the shields. All of it. Freddie scrambled to find other systems to shut down, cannibalizing every scrap of power he could find, all while refusing to look up at the viewscreen. The sonic shower, non-essential exterior lighting, most of the interior lighting, the fridge, everything was cut as he redirected power to the rapidly-draining shields.

"Shields aren't holding!" he called out. He watched with dread as the the strength meter practically melted away before his eyes. The cockpit was already growing uncomfortably warm, and he could feel sweat starting to spike the short fur on the back of his neck and forehead. A hard hit of turbulence rocked the Quasar Fantastic, but it shattered what remained of Freddie's courage.

Pink eyes looked up at the maelstrom of solar flame about them, and the boy froze.

Fire. So much noise, shaking, and heat. The flames wanted him, they demanded him, as punishment for his hubris, and he could feel his heart plummet as he prepared himself to accept the fate he had denied them once before.

The whining alarm of thermal sensors snapped him back to reality, and he panicked at the sight on his control panel. Engine two was overheating, hard. As he predicted, capacitors and regulators were popping one after the next, and the engine threatened to conk out into protection mode any moment if it could not release its heat instead of just acting as a generator. Then the worst light flashed upon his console.

Fire.

A fire had broken out in the engine bay. Freddie initiated the fire suppression system, but the light wouldn't go out. Another glance at the race monitor and he knew what he had to do. They were nearly clear of the corona, and his fingers danced upon his controls as he queued up eighteen, not twenty, CC's of hypermatter. Twenty was too much for two engines, Maron was still thinking of running three, but engine two was not going to be firing with one and three, not while there was a fire.

But, running two engines meant it was time to run his latest build, the force-field generated boost cones around those two engines. Everything was set, and his finger hovered over the injection button. The moment the corona began to fade, he clicked it, then felt himself slammed back into his seat as the Quasar Fantastic exploded out of the star's immediate gravity well, streaking toward the finish while her engines screamed. Engines were holding - barely.

"Full power to the finish, you got this!" he called out while frantically unfastening his safety restraints, then half-stepped, half tumbled out of it in a mad dash to the engine room. Careening off a hallway wall, he winced as he knew his shoulder would hurt later, but he had a fire to put out. Snatching up an extinguisher and an oxygen mask, Freddie slapped the door button to the engine bay, then entered his own personal hell.

[Acheli San Maronea]

The air was rapidly turning oppressive. Heat mixed with ozone and turning quickly stale. Maron only released one hand from the yoke long enough to snatch an emergency oxygen mask from the overhead, pressing it against her muzzle to draw a few deep breaths. The orange and yellow wisps at her periphery were beginning to feather into black as engine two folded.

This was the best hand she was dealt. So she was going to play it now.

"Full burn now!"

Maron opened the burners wide, watching with amazement at the displacement efficiency as the Quasar Fantastic sling-shot out of the star, flames licking the paint off the ship's forward hull. Ionized gas compressed and dispersed as wispy contrails as the Corellian ship's engines surged with a roar.

She could only hang on while the speck in the distance that was her opponent slowly began to grow. She pushed the oxygen mask back against her muzzle.

"Good job, kid." she said where only she could hear.

[Fredal Rabeak]

Freddie's pink eyes reflected flashes of yellow and orange as the engine room door slid open, before a rolling cloud of black smoke fell over him. Half the surfaces inside were already white from chemical fire suppression, but it hadn't been enough. Lines of ruptured capacitors glowed with flame as they burned up from the inside out, threatening the rest of the engine, and engine room if not addressed. Freddie knew what he needed to do.

He needed to put them out. His paws gripped his fire extinguisher, ready to aim and fire. It would be a simple enough task, and the Quasar Fantastic would be saved.

But he was frozen. Frozen in place while the familiar scent of burning electronics and engine components worked in through his oxygen mask, and he could hear the popping and crackling of the fire. Everything in his brain told him to run, to get away, or to put the blaze out, yet there he stood while smoke filled the room once more, the door having shut behind him. The fire wasn't done with him, he knew. It wanted him. It needed him. He could not run from it.

But I'm wearing a fireproof racing suit, this time. His higher reasoning somehow sparked through his panic.

It was enough to break the fire's spell. Eyes narrowed against the stinging smoke, and Freddie hoisted the fire extinguisher, then squeezed the handle to release a thick, gleaming white spray of dousing chemical foam upon the burning, ruptured capacitors. The foam was claggy and thick, sticking fast, smothering the ember glow until the room went fully dark, the boy having forgotten he'd shut down interior lighting. In pitch blackness, Freddie's ears rang from the roar of engines one and three, while he dropped his extinguisher and felt over the area before him, locating the manual shutdown for engine two. Shields were no longer needed, and keeping it running would just incite more damage until he could repair it. With a hard whine, he could feel engine two power down, then feel himself slammed against the console as engines one and three took the power which had been going to it, jolting the Quasar Fantastic's velocity even further.

Coughing despite his oxygen mask, Freddie reached up to the comm button on his headset.

"F-fire's out," he reported. "Two's down, all power to one and three. You got this, Cap" his voice came hoarse over the line, followed by another cough. The comm was released, and Freddie turned back to blindly find the door. He could already see the little pops of color exploding at the edges of his vision. Despite his oxygen mask, there was too much smoke in the room for him to remain and survive. Frantic paws slapped and slid over the wall where he thought the door was, cursing having not reactivated the lights, until at last he found the control panel. "C'mon c'mon c'mon!" he spoke to himself, until at last the door opened. able to see the faintest light through it, and he spilled out onto the floor, feeling it close behind him. Fighting inertia to even get to the door had been enough of a challenge and getting back to the cockpit would be impossible, so there he lay, at the end of the hall, and would remain until they crossed the finish line.

[Acheli San Maronea]

The thrust efficiency from Freddie's modifications kept the Fantastic at nearly her full straightaway efficiency, and Maron kept the hammer down with her intention to overtake. J'Quiissh K'rrisshii had certainly picked up on his tail. He began vectoring to cover Maron's overtake opportunities, trying to buy as much time as possible as the finish line quickly approached. The maneuvering stymied the faster Selonian as the distance closed. Feinting starboard, Maron drew J'Quiissh in the same direction to head her off, then cut her remaining engines into a tight barrel roll towards port. She winced at the sound of a thud and a screech - they'd traded paint in the pass. But no breach klaxons sounded, and she retained full rudder control. Eyes wide, Maron let J'quiissh catch engine wash as she rocketed ahead.

With her last competitor sliding out of the hunt, Maron fixated on the distant ring that hung in space next to a space station. It was the end of the line. All around were ships and specators, with a wide berth for the racing course. They all faded from Maron's vision, save for the end of the line. She didn't let up until she heard the beep signaling she'd crossed the end of the course.

"Captain Maron wins!!"

The general broadcast lit up with applause. Only now did the Selonian Captain ease back against her chair. She relaxed aching fingers from around the yoke, and permitted herself to breathe. When she did, her brow furrowed. The air was laden with smoke.

"Freddie?


Freddie?"

She unbuckled her crash webbing, setting her cruising course to autopilot as she headed to the rear of the ship.

[Fredal Rabeak]

With the race over, and engines throttled back, power was naturally restored to multiple systems. Lights flickered on overhead, as the atmospheric scrubbers sucked tendrils of oily black smoke into vents, churning out cool, clean air once more. The haze lifted enough to reveal a figure in the Quasar Fantastic's purple, orange and white color scheme, on its side near the engine bay doors. It was Freddie, curled up, paws clutching his head, eyes squeezed shut, hyperventilating into his oxygen mask, trembling - though he appeared unharmed.

The slingshot effect, when compounded with the increase in engine thrust, had been too much for the inertial dampers to fully overcome, having made it impossible for the Nehantite to advance through the hallway back to the cockpit, and he hadn't moved from where his back was pressed against the wall. Through distant echo, Freddie could hear someone calling his name, yet he couldn't respond. In the echo, he could also hear the crunch of rubber tires skidding to a halt upon scrabble-dusted sandstone flats, and the wail of a fire engine. All around him, he could still smell the smoke. Smoke, and the acrid stench of burning fur and flesh.

[Acheli San Maronea]

Her engineer was down, sucking on the oxygen line like it was a lifeline. The Selonian carefully dropped to four legs, cradling Freddie's head as one paw kept his oxygen mask pressed flush.

"We made it, Freddie. You did great."

A sudden shift in inertia signaled that the Fantastic had been scooped into a tractor beam, no-doubt being drawn in by the emergency servicing crew that waited at the finish line. With one engine out and extensive damage, it wasn't any surprise that the YT-2400 needed assistance.

[Fredal Rabeak]

The sirens grew louder, as did the popping and crackling of fire. Searing, all-consuming pain tore through Freddie's body, robbing him of the ability to scream, as every breath felt as if he were being stabbed.

And then it was gone, ripped from his consciousness as he felt a paw holding him, then his mask pressed against his muzzle. White-knuckled, trembling paws of his own reached up to grasp the rim of his mask and pull it down. One eye opening just enough to make out Maron's shape, his weak, hoarse voice asked, "Was it fast enough?"

[Acheli San Maronea]

Maron nodded with bright eyes as she doted over her engineer.

"More than enough. You were brilliant."

[Fredal Rabeak]

One leg, then the other, Freddie slowly uncurled, his breathing growing deeper while his head continued to swim through both past and present. "I'm sorry about the damage," he said, though he wasn't sure if his brain was either here or there in what he was apologizing for.

With a grunt, the slender teenager pushed himself up to his paws and knees, then wobbled to his feet before bracing himself against the wall. Beyond the door to the engine bay lay a hellscape of work, but at least he'd saved engine two from melting down, so it certainly could have been worse. Fingers reached up to wipe greasy smoke soot from his forehead, and he paused, looking at the residue upon his fingers.

"I need a shower," he announced, voice hollow. His pink eyes lost their focus upon his paw as it simply hung there, and he stared into the oblivion beyond it, removed entirely from the situation at hand. When he looked up, he looked straight through Maron as well, then started to turn before stumbling and catching himself, slamming his shoulder into the wall, yet remaining upright. The youth's typically expressive demeanor had vanished, replaced by a blank void of mechanical action instead.

[Acheli San Maronea]

"Hey, hey!"

The Selonian Captain draped her broad forepaws over Freddie's shoulders, keeping him from caroming against a bulkhead or a piece of equipment. He looked half-spaced.

"Focus on me. Right here."

For emphasis, Maron tapped at her snout, keeping Freddie squared up. He didn't look great. Balancing on a hind paw and her tail, the Selonian scooped up the oxygen mask with the other paw, passing it up to a waiting forepaw to ease towards Freddie's face.

"Slow breaths. Calm. One-two-three in. One-two-three out."

[Fredal Rabeak]

Freddie's paw came up to gently accept the mask, absent-mindedly holding it in place as he followed instruction without question. Lingering coughs from the smoke cleared, while his weak, wobbly stance grew slowly stronger. His typically expressive tail still hung slack, though its tip dared to flick just slightly.

Head rising slowly, his eyes met Maron's. For a moment within his daze there was clarity, then he was gone again. Freddie was still in there, somewhere, but clearly not at the forefront of his faculties. A tear which had been welling in his right eye broke free, and trickled down into the grimy, smoke-dirtied fur of his cheek, bringing with it a flood of emotion which had been locked away by the void which had overtaken him.

Voice cracking, everything about the highly emotional young engineer returned. "Please don't take me to the hospital, Captain!" he begged. "I don't want to go back! I'm okay! I'm okay! I'm not burned this time! I'm okay!" The words tumbled from his mouth in rapid desperation, his ears falling in utter defeat, and he began to pull back away from the paws on his shoulders, seeming ready to bolt.

Emotion and fear crackled in the air, Freddie having gone from zombie to hysterical faster than the Quasar Fantastic could hit 1.2 MGLT from a standstill, and tears rolled down his cheeks as the side of him he never wanted Maron to see put itself on full display.

[Acheli San Maronea]

He was having some kind of panic. Maron kept him close, knowing that he'd be a danger to himself until he calmed down.

"You're not burned, Freddie, I see you. You're not burned. You're here with me, and we made it. You did good, kid. You did good."

[Fredal Rabeak]

Hyperventilating into the oxygen mask, its clear surface misted with Freddie's hot, panicked breath, until finally the flares of steam began to slow. Wild eyes trembled as they tried to hold Maron's gaze, deeply red with fear, yet they too slowly melted back to their normal pink, and the boy relaxed once more.

A paw reached up to wipe away the tracks of his tears, smudging his face with soot, before he looked past Maron to the engine room door.

"I'm sorry, Captain," he finally managed. "I smelled the fire, and it... it..." he trailed off, his right paw moving to hold his left arm, pushing back the sleeve subconsciously as he rubbed at devastating burn scars that the motion revealed. "It won't happen again, Captain. I promise. I'll stay in control, you'll see."

The lad still wasn't all there, a vacant expression written on his face, and echoing in his voice, yet he seemed to know what was going on, again, and no longer pulled against the Selonian's grasp, instead standing shamed before her.

[Acheli San Maronea]

The hatch sealed with a clank as the Quasar linked up with the service cruiser. A few seconds later, the air hissed as the hatches opened. A team of medics and engineers entered. Maron waved them off gently.

"Take care of my ship."

Paw around Freddie's shoulder, she looked to him and nodded.

"Any race you can walk away from, kid. That's a good race."



An hour later


It took some pushing with her agent, but Maron got a little time between the finish and the inevitable press conference. That was enough time to hit the sonic showers and change into a clean jumpsuit. More importantly, it was enough time for Freddie, hopefully. She sat with her mechanic in the pilot's billet on the race hub station. There was a little privacy here. Once they passed through the doors, that would be gone.

"Here."

Maron tossed Freddie a bottle of electrolyte water as she took the seat opposite the Nehantite. Opening a bottle for herself, the pilot took a few thirsty gulps, then sighed.

"I need to know what you're feeling."

[Fredal Rabeak]

"Right now, I'm feeling pretty stupid," Freddie sighed.

A breath of clean, fresh air lifted his shoulders before they slumped again. Gone was the smell of soot and melted wiring, replaced by de-scented recirculated air, laundry detergent from his own fresh jumpsuit, and the sharp, almost metallic taste of a few ions still being released from his fur after his sonic shower. It was the shower that had done him the most good. Private, well-lit, clean. Freddie had focused upon the sound of the emitters, hearing only them until his mind could calm itself once more. Fingertips fumbled on the cap of his water bottle until at last it popped open, and he tipped back a few swigs before he could look his captain in the eye.

"You said any race you can walk away from is a good race," Freddie stated. "Well, I had a race I didn't walk away from. It was bad - real bad."

Biting his lower lip, the boy had to look down again, eyes closing as the memories came back once again, but this time he didn't panic. "I was thirteen, barely. I'd built a speeder bike out of... well, basically whatever I could get my paws on at the junkyard. It was overpowered. Not like a little, but deadly overpowered, and I was too young and stupid to realize it, so of course I took it out for a run, then a high-speed run. It went well at first, but then it overloaded. I don't even know how fast I was going, I'd exceeded the speedometer I was using, and the bike caught fire, and it dropped. Me with it. The crash was spread over about three hundred meters, and I was sprayed with fuel on the first impact. It ignited when I was scraped along the ground, because I couldn't get free of the bike until it began to flip, and I was thrown."

The boy paused there, eyes shut tight, toes curled in as well as he tried not to squirm. "The fuel kept burning. My head and my paws were saved because of a helmet and gloves, but my back, my arms, and some other parts of me kept burning. I broke... a lot of bones. Arm, both legs, back, my tail, ribs, you name it. Concussion pretty bad. But I could see it. I could see it and smell it, the smoke, the fire, the twisted wreckage. The smell of my own fur and flesh burning. And I couldn't do anything about it. I wanted to get away from it, to be safe, but I couldn't move. The doctors said the paramedics told them I was screaming until I passed out from the pain. I spent several months in the hospital, after that, and my dad brought me home before I should have been discharged, because he thought I was being lazy.

"I nearly died, and he thought I was being lazy. That absolute piece of..." Freddie stopped himself, forcing a deep breath before he could finally look up again.

Another drink, and his toes began to uncurl. "I don't pilot anymore. I can't. I - I just can't. I panic, and I can't. So I turned to just being an engineer, a designer. I got a buddy of mine to be my new pilot, and he did all our runs from then on. We were good. I was good. Then he stole what I'd built, said it was his own, and joined up with a bigger outfit. So I left, and now I'm here, working for you." He reached up to hold his muzzle, pulling and rubbing at it as he fought back the fear of rejection he was already starting to let in. "And you just saw me have a panic attack, because I was surrounded by smoke and fire, and all I could think of, all I could feel, was that crash. I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth before. But I knew you'd never hire me if you knew, and I needed this job so bad!"

By the end, his lip was trembling, despite his best attempts to hide it.

You're so fired. What were you thinking, imagining that some trailer trash nothing like you could play at this level? His mind told him.

[Acheli San Maronea]

It was a heavy, earnest revelation. For her part, Maron listened patiently. She had at least a few minutes to do so - and more if she pushed back if her agent came running.

"Confronting your fear is an important part of racing, but most importantly, it's an important part of living. I've met a lot of people in this career. Most, I haven't gotten the chance to know, but the ones that I do get to know, they all have something they face."

Maron set aside her electrolyte water.

"For me? I'm afraid of failure. My family, they rely on the purse money I win. It goes to buy food, power converters, medicine, everything they need. While I can go on a streak of losing a few races, if its a long one, there might not be enough to make ends meet. So I'm always racing to stay at least one race ahead of that reality."

Her whiskers buoyed.

"That's a feeling that doesn't go away. I always feel that fear, sometimes more than other times, but I'm not suddenly over it. The best I can do is to regiment myself, give myself time to work, and allow myself time to feel."

She draped a broad paw across one of Freddie's knees.

"You told me that you need this job. I need a good mechanic to keep my edge, so I can look after my family. It sounds like we need each other. So I think you need to consider the best way to confront your fear."

[Fredal Rabeak]

Confront your fear. Face your fear. Overcome your fear. Learn from your fear so you need never fear it again.

They were words he had been told over and over, sometimes be those who meant well, but often by those who had made him fearful in the first place. To Freddie, fear was a thing you ran from, so it could not catch you, could not hurt you again. Confrontation got him hurt. Facing it got him slapped down. Overcoming it wound up with his face in the dirt. And learning from it? All he had ever learned was how to try and doge it. Fear could not be overcome. Fear was always, it was constant, it would hunt you down if you did not cover your tracks and hide. Fear was a thing that others thought they felt, but didn't truly know.

But Maron feared as well? His eyes came back up. Her words passed into his brain, where years of anguish attempted to comprehend them. She feared for her family and loved ones, instead of living in fear of them. It was a concept he thought existed only in holovision shows, and old books; a notion he had never known, himself. And yet he was faced with a dilemma: if she cared for him as her mechanic, did she fear for his safety as well?

Then the paw came to rest upon his knee, and the boy stiffened while recoiling slightly. "I'll... I'll do my best," Freddie nodded. His knees drew closer together as he eased back a bit, sheepishly stating, "I... I don't like being touched, Captain." Like a puppy who had once been kicked by someone, he wanted to trust her wholeheartedly, yet the damage had already been done.

"We should probably be getting out there. I bet the press is getting antsy." He at least attempted a smile. If he could not overcome his fear, at least he could put on a brave face as best he knew how.

[Acheli San Maronea]

Maron retrieved her paw without protest, rising from her seat.

"Are you ready for this? When you step out of this door, everyone is going to know your name. Your life will be different. It may be for the better or for the worse, but you can't undo it."

The Selonian rolled her shoulders, cinching down her jacket over her long torso.

"I can keep the spotlight off of you, if you want. But if you really want the galaxy to see your brilliance, just follow me."

[Fredal Rabeak]

Freddie looked to the doorway, caught between fight and flight. On the other side lay everything he ever wanted: fame, recognition, possibly lucrative licensing deals, and perhaps even some cute girls. He would be one of the youngest race engineers out there to have ever served on a premier level team, and he'd show everyone that he was important. That he had value.

But it would strip him of anonymity, and thrust him into spotlights he wasn't sure if he could handle. And even worse, his dad would know where he was. Know how to find him.

For a moment, he simply looked at Maron, pulled in each direction. Just as his shoulders began to sink, a spark of bravery shot through his heart, and the boy stood, nodding. "Let's do this. Together."

If it were a question of what to say, he'd call back to the countless speeches and press conferences of racers he'd watched as a boy. Or he'd just wing it. The surge of endorphins racing through his system were prepared to make anything possible, bringing a smile to his face. In one final check, he glanced in the mirror to make sure his headfur was right. After all, there might be cute girls out there, and if he could manage to safely boost a starship through a star's outer corona, he just might have a shot at saying hi to a girl.

[Acheli San Maronea]

The splayed whiskers on Maron's muzzle showed she was glad that Freddie had decided to face the galaxy. She gave him a single nod.

"Alright. Let's go."




* * *

The walk down the hallway had been a dress rehearsal. There were a few staff members and the occasional member of the press without a conference room pass. They pressed Maron close, shoving holorecorders and microphones at her to get a few shots and - if they were lucky - a soundbyte. Maron politely breezed past them, careful to walk tandem with Freddie so he didn't get separated from the protection of her deference.

When the arrived in the conference room, the pulsing sound of holographic shutters and flashes created a fantastic sort of ambiance. Maron led with a gesture, allowing Freddie to take point up the right aisle towards the dais. The crews of the other top two racers were already there, but their moods were understandably ambivalent. As a racer, placing second earned you a sleepless night of what ifs.

[Fredal Rabeak]

Spots of purple and flickering yellow flashed in Freddie's vision from just his trip down the hallway, and he staggered in his first step as a barrage of flashes bombarded him. Pink eyes squinting at first, his face flinching, he Nehantite was tempted to raise a paw to shield his eyes from it all, then remembered just what the flashes were.

They were the press. Fans. The media. And they were taking pictures of him. Well, not just him, mostly of Maron, but still he was going to be in them! He was going to be in them, representing the Quasar Fantastic!

A forced smile tried to cover his initial flinch, and he straightened his jumpsuit while putting his best foot forward. Within a few steps, the fake smile blossomed into a real one as cheers went up from the crowd. A few cameras got waves and direct smiles, but overall he knew his job was not to take the limelight, but instead warm it up for Maron. After all, everyone at home knew who the pilots were, and very few cared about co-pilots - even fewer gave a second thought to an engineer like himself. But still, if he was going to be allowed to bask, then bask he would, all the way up to the dais, where he stood neatly, giving Maron plenty of room.

He'd made it. He was a winner.

Wait, what was he supposed to do next?