Campaign The Imynusoph Run: Carida-Taris

[Aeshi Tillian]

CARIDA
COUNCIL OF MERCHANTS SPACEPORT
Milla Kryst Jerec Asyr Coren Starchaser Aeson Keel Okkeus Dainlei Gren Blidh
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Aeshi had made it to Carida ahead of the racers, bypassing Sarrish and the pauses between race legs to set things up ahead. One of the great advantages of being representing a trade league is that most mercantile, or any worlds that rely on commerce, are eager to pitch in and improve their brand marketability. The Merchant's Council had donated their official docking bay for the race in exchange for the privileges of making speeches during the race start. Now, granted, they weren't thrilled at being the starting point for the shortest leg of the race, being only around half the length of the first two, and significantly shorter than the next two.

But, Aeshi had to suspect that in their pompousness they appreciated being the center of the race. Last time she had paid attention, that was something along the lines of what the merchant council members had been saying something along those lines.

It always struck her how different cultures focused on the same things could be so different. Especially ones surrounding commerce, space travel, and trade could end up being so... rigid and stuffy. A whole wondrous galaxy at their finger-tips and they still thought themselves the center of the galaxy.

She wasn't in the fancier garments she had worn for the launch of the race, but back to her familiar grease-coated coat and hat, with the blasters hanging comfortably from her belt. This was when the race was about to flourish into its full challenge level. The first leg had been the Outer Rim, but that side of the Rim was pretty calm and business as usual, except for the First Order expansionism.

This time, they were going straight to the frontlines of the great war that had been tearing at the Core for years, and skirting either through or along the borders of two authoritarian regimes, both of whom had either either forged or was in the process of forging reputations of ruthlessness.

The formal speeches ended and the local sports commentators began their show as she paused in front of the holocam droid that had been following along behind her. Since this was such a short leg, she was going to give quick interviews with each of the racers while the local guild officials finished up their safety inspections. The last leg had been a bit rough on the ships, with everything from running space battles to dangerous hyperspace anomalies she had forward to every system in a wide angle from its initial trajectory, and the ORDC had sent probes and survey ships through the region with stabilizers to try and prevent it from happening again. It probably sounded terrible, but she was glad it was Jerec who had run into it. He and Coren were the two she suspected being the two who could best survive that without killing anyone else.

Coming to the center of the ring in which the ships would be docking as the racers went about their final preparations for the next leg. Behind her, the holocam droid whirred to life.

"Well done racers!" Aeshi called as she approached. "You've got more or less to the halfway point. Only two legs of the race left after this, how are you all holding up?" She gave a half grin. "I can't tell you the odds, but the bets on each of you are skyrocketing at this point. Do tell me, what's been the most challenging part of this race? The most exciting? Some scattered reports I've been collecting through some... less than public channels are suggesting a few of you have been quite adept at turning the race into a more profitable venture so far. And so far, this has catapulted your galactic profile. So, if you survive this, what's next?"

She would leave it open for any of them to answer before the official countdown began as the service and ground crews finally retreated. And as the official ten minute countdown started, she would pop open the oldest, most expensive vintage bottle of Tillian Whiskey that she still possessed and offer it out to the racers. "To the stars, my friends, to the stars! May they forever be beyond our comprehension!"

 

[Jerec Asyr]

When Aeshi Tillian and her holocam droid reached Jerec and the Infinity's Free, the camera centered on one very happy Ithorian with a Gran on each arm. A curvy female on his right, a cut male on his left.

Feth, I love roadies.

"What's next?" Jerec looked straight at the camera and grinned with the big gills on each side of his neck. "I go right back to selling the galaxy's best used starships at Quekko's Choice Ship Emporium, 7242 Kyrric, Lum Rouge, Seven Corners, Denon!"

***​

Later, apart from a very small amount of lum, an effectively sober Jerec hit the gas as the light went green. He'd projected this leg to take ten hours: a quick blitz up the Daragon Trail, then a hop to the Hydian. Might even get a minute to stop in at Thyrsus, inarguably the best black market in the galaxy.

***​

"Captain's Log, uh, is this thing on?

"So we took that nice simple hop from the Daragon to the Hydian, right? Nice and simple. Niiice and simple. Well, the safeties pulled us out near the Perlemian switchback and I kid you not, half a battlefield got dumped on us. Patrol flotilla that someone cut to pieces. I've got Muk going over the data, still not sure whether they were Silvers or Alliance or NIO. Whoever hit them, hit them hard. Ships on fire, shields up and sparking out, taking up defensive positions near their incoming vector like someone or something was chasing them. I'd have liked to stick around and help or salvage, but just navigating that gorram mess cost us four hours, and it would've been worse if our emergency systems weren't up to snuff. Shoved some medkits in an escape pod for them with a Quekko's Choice business card, and that's about the best we could do.

"So much for pulling over at the Thyrsus black market. Maybe next time. Travel time for this leg is fourteen hours, which puts us at seventy-six total. Feth."

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Coming ripping into Carida through the non-hyperlane space didn’t really bother Coren. He knew how to handle himself in his ship, and well, Cuan had flown with the older Corellian for long enough that he wasn’t too concerned. That last leg was doing well, and he was looking forward to a little rack time at Carida. They were going to need to fuel up the ship, and do some routing maintenance, but the glory of an older YT was that parts were almost as plentiful as they were for TIEs.

“Porter, make sure that the safety crews don’t break anything. Let Cuan get some rack time. I’m heading over to find Jerec and Aeshi.” A little trash talking went a long way, even if just for laughs. What he was truly hoping for was a good race, but well, if the Tachyon Rising could prove herself once more, it would just feel like he hadn’t lost his touch. He was aging up, and stepping back from the wars, but his skills as a captain hadn’t failed.

Even without some of the training.

“The Rising is ready! My crew and I know what we’re doing and what we’re getting into. All primed up for the next leg. Its been a while since I’ve done any race like this, the stakes just… you feel that rush? Yeah, its better when you’re the one pushing the fusion reactor to her limits! And after this?

“Well, they’ll all know who to come to when they need some wayfinding done!”

The Corellian winked at the camera, middle age still doing him well as he made sure to get the supplies, some more water, a few Caridian bottles of booze, and, as always, a stone off the surface. For luck and his collection.

*****

After his pre-flight, he and Cuan were ready and raring to go, refreshed and fixed up. Coren did some light meditation to reinvigorate. The thudding of the bass beat was thrumming through the ship as the lights were setting themselves up and counting down.

The rhythm, the hum of the ship, and the song of the Force, Coren heard he was taking the same course as Jerec, but it really only made sense. He thought about taking the lanes but… This was a part of space he knew. He was a Core World by birth. Rush from Carida to Daragon Trail at Castell, turn north to Thrysus, and catch the Hydian at Kiros, then on to Taris.

Was going to take all said and done 10 hours.

As the lights lit up, the Tachyon Rising rushed from its starting gate and as soon as it was out of the well of Carida, to light speed.

Log Entry 7

So, the trip was pretty good, we made it all the way to Kiros without event, set up on the Hydian and I figured I’d man the helm a bit, Cuan had some need to play Dejarik with Porter. As I’m watching hyperspace, and partially communing with the Force (even if Celeste Rigel will say its just me woolgathering), the damn chair broke. Kicked the controls, pulled us out of light speed. Cuan cussing at me in Sullustan.

“Yeah yeah, I got it. Hang out, let me get us to light speed again.” Apparently the reversion pushed us away from the lane, for safety, took us an hour to get back on course.

But hey, 11 isn’t so bad when you planned 10. Should be seeing Taris shortly.

 

[Gren Blidh]

The unrelenting pace of the Imynusoph Run would stop to find a respite here in the hangar bay, where the competitors found themselves together in one room for a rare occasion. Behind them, the whir of drills and clanking of hydrospanners was the music of the hour, sparks flying as mechanics made more last minute adjustments and made any necessary repairs before the next leg of the race.

Whoever said to never tell a smuggler the odds had never met Gren. He would bet on himself if he could. Unfortunately, he'd spent most of his available cash on that hyperdrive from Quekko's. Surely Jerec Asyr would be gloating about that. And this Coren Starchaser was apparently a Jedi, but acted more like the typical plebeian smuggler he would encounter on a bar stool in some Corellian pub, knee-deep in brandy. All the better; Jedi were insufferable anyway. This one seemed to have abandoned his morals, but at least it made him an interesting person.

Finally, the microphone stopped at Gren.

"What's next?" He said to Aeshi Tillian , narrowing his lone visible eye at the holocam. "Wherever space and whim take me. Let us leave good sense behind like a hideous husk and let us hurl ourselves, like fruit spiced with pride, into the immense mouth and breast of the world! Let us feed the unknown, not from despair, but to simply enrich the unfathomable reservoirs of the Absurd!"

Gren pulled his trenchoat tighter and turned away. "Seeya on Taris."

 

[Milla Kryst]

Having that bounty on their head, Scar turned into the edgy, quiet kid that wouldn't come out of their room. No socializing would happen unfortunately, as Scar believed they had a better chance just sitting it out in the ship. Of course, Scar had a bigger trail of bounties but nothing that was so significant to the average bounty hunter, it only occasionally upset local law, or Mandalorians, specifically. However this bounty was obvious and in front of the other racers faces since he ignored that distress beacon, and Scar was right there. So it wasn't a fun idea to go chit chatting when Scar could be nabbed right off the street or in a bar. As lonely as it could be, Scar passed the time with some online Pazaak, enjoying the little game here and there. However, when it was time for the race, no time was wasted as they braced themselves for the big run.

Taris.... a planet Scar actually knew of. So much rich history.... too much rich history. It might have been nice to check out the cantina, even offer up a game or two of Pazaak, except for one small kink in that idea. But there was no time for that, the contestants got to the starting line for the next leg, and Scar was right there with everybody. It was a bit funny, actually. Compared to all these bigger rigs, they could smush the Ba'jur into a pancake, but that was only if they could catch it. See the Ba'jur was designed to track down targets and keep up to speed in sublight, but also occasionally... run away. The flaw with the Ba'jur was the original Hyperdrive. Well, it wasn't really a flaw, it was never designed for a race. But the ships design had been improved and enlarged since the original and it allowed for a lot more flexibility, like the fun-sized jerry-rigged hyperdrive slapped onto the thing in the engine bay. Which was all Scar needed to get their foot in the door to winning.... one of the prizes, hopefully. With the green light shimmering off and the blast of the engines, Scar was off, that much closer to walking away with some seed money to their new life. It was impossible to grab the top spot, but if Scar did, they really wouldn't have to worry anymore...

And what a perfect leg this was for Scar, not a single hiccup along this route was faced. Everything was in tip-top shape and Scar finally got to the finish in record time, maxing out in just a clean 10 hours to finish.

 

[Gren Blidh]

The Somberlane
Captain's Log
En Route to Taris

We must be making some fans on this trip. Can't imagine why, as we're a mile off the leaderboard. Maybe it was the camera time I got back on Carida that did the trick, but at any rate, some customs inspectors waved us through. Said they were fans of ours. It's good to know that true dynamists still exist somewhere in this galaxy. I could tell upon looking at them that these were men of speed - despite their rather tedious profession, they no doubt yearn for the freedom of open space, the feeling of a thousand tons of durasteel cracking through the sound barrier at once! I and the Somberlane shall do my best to vicariously live their dreams as we hurl through space and directly through any that shall oppose us!

For the first time on the Run, we'll actually have some spare time upon reaching Taris. I'll see if Sidra Ater wants to go for a drink. She's a lively whip. She didn't come to bunk with me last time, but after a few ambrostines and a few laughs? Who knows.

The future is my oyster. We dock on Taris within the hour.