[GRT-K19-Berrol's Donn-FZ] Qualifier Race Circuit

On the frontier racetrack of Berrol's Donn...

The ancient forests of Berrol's Donn were known for hiding many secrets over the centuries, not least of them being the mineral deposits that made lucky prospectors absurdly wealthy, but the fresh stillness of their towering pines was rarely interrupted by anything quite like this. The high whine of speeder bike engines shattered the quiet, carrying through the trees alongside the smell of burning fuel and churned earth. Beyond the forest clearing, the rolling grasslands stretched toward the distant foothills, where the occasional ranchstead or weathered settlement broke up the otherwise endless frontier. Today, however, the attention of the locals was fixed on the makeshift racetrack carved through the countryside, where a handful of independent racers had gathered to test their machines, hoping to get the attention of the marquee events through the galaxy.

Arie Blayze had raced all over the Outer Rim, from frozen wastes where slick ice made controlling a speeder an exercise in desperation, to volcanic planets where one's life hung in a delicate balance between a spectacular crash and being swallowed by a plume of lava. Compared to those hazards, the tall trees and wide-open ranges of Berrol's Donn offered a welcome change of pace. Here, she could really open up the throttle and put her customized Arctek VXR-7 Vandal through its paces. With the Son-Tuul Rumble only two weeks away, she needed to know exactly what her machine could do, and how far she could push it before something gave.

"And coming around for another pass- Arie Blayze! She's flying through the sixth lap!" the announcer exclaimed, his voice crackling through a battered loudspeaker mounted atop the timing stand. The modest crowd gathered around the track roared in response. A few spectators cheered, their drinks spilling in their excitement. Some gathered together, placing less-than-thought-through last minute bets on the remaining racers. A few local rustlers had even ridden in from the surrounding ranches, their weather-beaten hats nearly torn from their heads as Arie blasted past the spectator line. Dust billowed in the wake of her speeder, swirling through the dirt path and sending a few onlookers who had creeped too close to the course reeling backward. The VXR-7's engine howled as Arie leaned hard into the next turn, skimming the edge of the course with just enough clearance to avoid clipping a marker post.

"She's pushing that speeder too hard," grumbled Perr Cylot, one of the pit crewmembers supplied by Arie's Flame of Zhar sponsors. She stood beside the maintenance tent, watching the racer disappear behind a stand of trees before reappearing farther down the course. "I have to imagine she's running on fumes by now, too!"

The sound of a hydromallet striking durasteel, followed by a stream of Huttese expletives, was her answer from her companion.

"Argh... what can you expect from these hotshot racers?" the mechanic muttered, lifting his head from the engine he was working on. "They're so dense I'm surprised their speeders even lift off the ground."

By the time the crew had finished their complaints, Arie was already long gone. The engines faded into the distance, leaving the clearing in a brief lull before the announcer began rattling off lap times and the crowd returned to its usual hubbub. Spectators shared drinks, argued over the merits of the various racers, and traded credits over wagers that had gone spectacularly wrong. A couple of vendors worked their way through the crowd selling grilled nerf skewers and cheap caf, while the less fortunate racers limped back toward their tents to assess the damage to their machines.

Despite the revelry, the Flame's pit crew shifted uncomfortably. Rumors had reached them that someone high up in the syndicate was on their way to Berrol's Donn, insistent on seeing the champion their credits had bought. They had spent the better part of the afternoon worrying over Arie, and the status of her speeder, and the prospect of explaining to a syndicate superior why their star racer seemed determined to run it into the ground was not an appealing one.

They didn't have to wait long.

"So who's winning?" came a woman's voice from behind the tent.

The pit crew turned, startled. Perr nearly dropped the hydrospanner in her hand as she took in the newcomer, then glanced past her to the armored bodyguard standing a few paces behind. The woman herself seemed considerably less intimidating, wearing a calm expression that suggested she was accustomed to people stumbling over themselves in her presence.

"Apologies, my lady," Perr managed.

"Just Anja's fine. I'm not one for titles." She offered the crew a warm smile, then glanced toward the track, where the distant engines were beginning to rise again. "Is our champion as good as the reports say?"

The mechanics exchanged glances. Whatever answer they had prepared seemed to have deserted them.

"She's... confident," Perr finally said, shuffling her feet. "I think she could do with being a bit more trusting that we're here to help her win. She hasn't stopped for refueling or a check-up once. We tried to get her in after the fourth lap, but she just waved us off and went straight back out."

Anja followed her gaze toward the track. A thin haze of exhaust hung over the clearing, catching the afternoon light between the trees. For a moment, her expression gave little away.

"We can work on that," she said at last. "We just need a winner. The rest is easy."

The group fell quiet. Somewhere behind them, a mechanic slammed a toolbox shut, and the announcer began building anticipation for the final lap. Then came the familiar rumble, growing steadily louder until the screaming speeder engines returned in full force. A pair of competitors emerged from the far end of the course, jostling for position as they fought to make up time, but it was Arie who came tearing around the final bend. Her VXR-7 shot across the finish line in a spray of dirt, its engine shrieking as she eased off the throttle and swept past the timing stand.

The crowd went wild, cheering as though there weren't a handful of other racers still trickling in behind their champion. The announcer's voice rose above the din to proclaim Arie's victory, and a few of the locals promptly began arguing over whether she had broken the course record or merely come close. Arie brought her speeder around toward the maintenance tent, coasting to a stop as the engine settled into a rough mechanical growl.

"Great job, everyone!" she exclaimed, pulling off her helmet and shaking out her hair. Her grin suggested she hadn't a care in the galaxy.

The pit crew, by contrast, looked as though they'd aged several years in the last hour. They grumbled among themselves and returned to work, gathering tools and replacement parts while one mechanic began inspecting the overheated engine housing.

"That was quite the finish," Anja admitted, stepping forward to clasp Arie on the shoulder. "You think you're ready for Son-Tuul?"

Arie flashed her a broad grin.

"Confident," Anja thought.

"I don't think it'd be much of a race if I wasn't there!" the racer declared.

Anja couldn't help smiling herself. There was no denying the girl's talent, and she had the sort of natural swagger that made people want to watch her race. Whether that translated into the discipline required to win a major event remained to be seen.

"Hah, all right, then. But you need to trust your crew. The Flame has invested a lot in your success. We might need you to win the race, but that doesn't mean you'll win it all on your own."

Behind them, the crew continued packing up, though Perr made a point of giving Arie a particularly pointed look as she carried a crate of spare components past them. Arie either failed to notice or chose to ignore it. The rowdy fans were already beginning to disperse, making their way along the dirt road toward town, where the saloons would stay busy long into the night. The last of the racers loaded their damaged speeders onto battered transports, and the clearing slowly returned to something resembling a peaceful frontier gathering.

"I have to admit, I thought Lady Pria, or at least Carm the One Arm, would be in attendance," Arie said, glancing around the tent. "No offense, umm..."

"My name's Anja," she replied with a reassuring smile. "And I hope you don't take my presence the wrong way. Lady Pria was caught up with Flame business. As for Carm, well..." She paused briefly, then recovered with a touch of her usual warmth. "You can think of me as Carm's better half."

"Works for me! Thanks for coming all this way to see me win." Arie flashed another beaming champion's smile, grabbed her helmet, and clapped a few of the crew members on the back before jogging off to catch up with the fans heading toward town. Anja could barely hear her yell something about buying the first round, and a few of the locals answered with enthusiastic cheers.

Anja watched her disappear down the road, her smile lingering for a moment before fading as the long shadows of the forest stretched across the clearing. The sun was sinking behind the distant hills, turning the treetops copper and gold, and the cooling air carried the smell of dust, fuel, and the last of the food being packed away. It should have been a pleasant evening. Instead, she found herself thinking about the man who ought to have been standing beside her.

"You still think coming here was a good idea?" Bern asked, appearing at her side.

"Of course. I don't think there's any danger here." Anja gave her companion a quizzical look.

Bern turned toward her, his emotions a complete mystery beneath his helmet. "I'm not worried about our safety here. I'm worried about what people will make of your presence. Carm's been gone for weeks. People are going to notice his absence, and despite all your charms, you suddenly showing up in his place is going to raise questions. Especially among people who might already be wondering where he's been."

Anja's smile vanished. She knew Bern was right, and the thought only deepened the worry that had followed her across the Outer Rim. Carm's capture had been sudden, with little warning and even less explanation. Weeks had passed since then, and the Flame had received no ransom demands, no threats, not even an anonymous message claiming responsibility. It was as though he had simply vanished, swallowed by the vastness of the galaxy. Every day that passed without word made it harder to believe that someone, somewhere, wasn't deliberately keeping him out of reach.

She looked toward the road leading into town, where the last of the racers and spectators were disappearing beneath the trees. Somewhere beyond them lay a collection of frontier saloons, gambling dens, and trading posts where people were more willing to talk after a few drinks. If Carm had crossed paths with the wrong people, Berrol's Donn might be as good a place as any to find a lead. And if it wasn't, there were always bounty hunters looking for work.

"Well, we're not doing anything useful standing here, Bern. Let's get into town. Maybe we'll find someone who's heard something. Or at the very least, we can recruit more people to find him."

Anja turned toward the road, her expression settling into a familiar resolve. Behind her, the last of the speeder engines fell silent, leaving the forest to reclaim the clearing one rustling branch at a time. The race was over, their champion had earned her crown, but the Flame had much more serious concerns than races.

As the first lights flickered to life in the distant town, and Anja thought of her love for Carm, she couldn't shake the feeling that her own race against time had just begun.

---

Thanks for reading! This was a fun build that turned into a much bigger post than I originally thought it would be. I'm excited to start exploring more of Berrol's Donn, and always, please share any thoughts, critiques and comments!

Team name: Frontier Racing

Pilot name: Arie Blayze

• Homeworld: Brentaal IV
• Vehicle: Customized VXR-7 Vandal Speeder Bike
• Brand: Arctek

Racer Point Split:

• Racer Speed: 3
• Piloting Skills: 3
• Pilot Recklessness: 4