Slow and Steady Wins the Race [Gran Prix]

Dwet Tsemp was not usually a particularly fast racer. And 'not particularly fast' usually meant crossing the finish line after most others had already been given medals, popped and imbibed fizzy alcoholic beverages, and passed out. His racing machines were usually... unique. To put it kindly. Others preferred flash, style, and - well - speed. But this time, Dwet knew his tread-bike had something that most other racers on Haruun Kal lacked. Reliability.

"Get out of the way, space-slug!"

Dwet smiled to himself as the flimsy swoop bike swept by him. They had just entered the lowlands, where toxic mists attacked both riders and their vehicles. While most racers were aware of the need for breathing masks, fewer realized how quickly the mists could corrode unshielded vehicles...

*CRASH*

He trundled past the smoking wreckage of the swoop that had passed him moments before, its front durasteel bars eaten completely through by the corrosive toxins. No one was laughing at him or his sturdy tread-bike now!