JEDI HoloNet

*Hmm* what could I say about myself? I could begin by saying that my name is Maleena Nellik, and that I’m 19 years old. For most of people here, I am ”old” but let me say that for the humans, I’m pretty young. Young yes, but not inexperienced. Life granted me ability to grow beyond my years, by pushing me into events that leaded me here, on Yavin IV.

In my youth, I had have to move so many times, taking away time to make friends, time to settle in. I had to take care of my ill mother, Inette. As for my father, Sipir Nellik, he was a pilot in the Galactic Alliance’s Navy.
Like most navy guys, he would come from time to time, spending some nights at our house but it was pretty rare, that was before my mom got sick… now he doesn’t even call! Even though I moved a lot, from planet to planet, I was born on Malastare; the world of pod race, methane lakes, the world of Gran and Dugs.

This is actually there that everything starts, following my fathers steps I hooked myself in the pod racing industry, the frenzy speed, the motor roaring, the danger of the sport was all that pushed me into getting hired as a pod race track mechanic, fixing the pod racer during the race, reseting it so little more terrain could be gained on our adversairies. All was good for more than a year and a half, until being a mechanic was not exciting enough. The thrill of speed, fast paced action, going 600 miles per hour at only a feet off the ground: that’s what I call exciting.

So I went to my boss, an influencial Gran merchant, begging him to start off as pilot. His first reaction was to widely laugh as I stood still in from of him. Once he came back to a calm, he realize how serious I was in my request. That seriousness gave me the opportunity of a life-time. The next week I would time trial on Phoebos Memorial Run, where I could try myself at pod racing. My boss only gave me three laps to prove him it was worth betting on me.

So it had begun, the engines roaring louder than I had ever heard before, shaking my heart, heck, my whole body, strapped tightly into the small cockpit. The light turned green and in a glimps, in a blink of an eye, I rushed already to the first curve. Knowing it was my first time, I decided not to push too much on myself, not totally confortable with the handling. After a few seconds, which at this speed feels like hours of incoming danger, unknown reactions from the pod, and basically everything that makes this sport interesting, I finished the first lap, way…way…way after Sebulba’s record. I think by then that my boss told himself “what am I doing”.

But I continued into the second lap, pushing harder on the thrusters, climbing up speed – and danger – challenging myself into making the second lap better than the first. After longer hours of shorter seconds, I passed in front of my boss for a second time with a better record which probably made him think about more credits as I was only a couple seconds over Sebulba’s time. The Dug’s record on the Phoebos run has had never even came close to being challenged.

And third lap it was. Gaining confidence in myself and my abilities I pushed harder again on the thrusters, hot blood rushing through my vienes as the twin engines roared even louder, breaking the semi-silence that enveloped the run as I took the last ”V” shaped turn, into the last stretch before finish line. So far, so good I had made perfect lap, or so I think, until a fateful incident made my heart bounced in my chest, as if it wanted to explode out of my body, as I noticed a red flashing light on the pod’s screen. It indicated an over heat of the right engine. Thus I had to lower speed into the finish line, leaving Sebulba’s record still unchallenged.

Stopping the pod a few meters away from my boss, I anticipated his total disappointment in my performance. To my surprise, he rushed to me arms wide open with a joyful voice, telling me that I did great. He then explained me the basic lines of my future contract as a pod race pilot. I couldn’t believed what I was hearing, but when I did, I couldn’t help myself, screaming and jumping all over saying “Thank you” “Thank you” “Thank you” “Thank you”!
It is strange, as I wanted to race, the next two weeks, the closes I got to a pod was to its engines, tens of holophotographs asking me “smile!” “turn this way” “No that way!” “Malee! Over here!”, all of it was more stressful to me than pod race.

We travelled to Tatooine for the Boonta eve, where I would face off reknowned pilots, from all across the Galaxy. The heat of the twin suns baking the engines, the crowd, the pilots, heck, everything. As I waited for the signal to climb into my pod, I watched the announcers pass review of each pilot – career, exploits and records – until they reached mine. They showed my Trial time, saying I was of the greatest pilot to hit the tracks, being the sole woman ever to pod racer – a rare incident, especially that I was human. The announcers assured I was worthy of the tracks, and that I was going to put up a good show.

The announcers then gave the signal, as Racer officials rushed through the hangar, giving Go to the pilots to get into their pod. So, I climbed the silver and gold plated craft, settling myself in the tight, leathered chair, grasping the controls with excitement and fear – it was my first race, after all.
Driving the pod at slow-pace onto the starting line, and unlike regular sport, new comers always end up on the last line, with the worse scum the Galaxy could offer. I had a lot to gain, but much more to loose. I tried to convinced myself that all will be alright, trying to see the race in my head.
My day-dreaming was cut short with the Green lights, and the contestants were launching themselves at great speed, but over all, with urge of winning, with agressivity that I never had seen before. Lacking experience, I had lost already a few seconds, and in this sport, it was all that was needed to pass from winner to looser.

I pushed harder than in my third trial lap, as I floated around the circuit, coming close to the rocks and cliffs of the baked planet of Tatooine. At times, I could see spark flying from the sides of the engines, from scratching the wall-sides of a tunnel, or from another Pod Racer, who’d came too close of me. As the second lap begun, I gained back what I had lost at the start line, and even worked myself up a few positions. Each second passed, I had a feeling growing inside me, something strange, illusive and unclear : I knew when to push gas, when to brake, what to expect.

I guess it was all about the thrill of the sport, by then, as I was a novice racer. I had passed off 5 pods already, picking on 6th place. There was much still to pass to win this race, but I wouldn’t let myself be beaten down by ‘probabilities’. At the end of the second lap, in the final stretch before the spectator stands, where a crowd of thousands of race fans, from all different species, cheering together, encouraging their favourite pilot, or simply trying to discourage their most hated… who knows.

Passing the crowd, I marked second best lap, from position 4. I then thought it was all or nothing : Pole or nothing. Thinking this, a wide smile of pleasure and anticipation alighted my face. As the wind whipped the pod with ferocious strength, my sweaty hands coming across the controls with precision and agility, to my own surprise, as I chilled from the thought of being the first rookie to ever win the first race.

The thought went away as I passed through 3rd position : only two more. They were way ahead of me, but I then felt the surge once more : confidence, accuracy in manoeuvres, perfect handling, the gap between the leaders shorten as I lifted sand and dust into the air, speeding around 600 miles per hour – the locked speed since 20 years.

And then, the moment was near : the racer, hurling insults at me, from the look of it, shaking his hand out of the pod in signs of frustration, becoming smaller and smaller behind me. Next was the pole. All that was needed, was getting into the first position now.

There was one stretch left, right after the Corkscrew. Bashing on the Hutt Flats, I came side to side with the leader, can’t remember who though… I was too focused on winning. I looked at the Veknoid that was confused to see me there, apparently, or atleast, from the way he looked… And I was then surprise, as I saw the pod go straight left, smashing into bits in one of the pillars sprouting out from the Flats.

I crossed finish line, only to be wooed by the crowd… They thought I had pushed the guy out… or something like that.

I dropped from the pod, not to meet with the locals that came to congratulate me, or so I was thinking. There were some gunners too, then they said I cheated, and I was to face the Hutts – big, slimy, disgusting blob, who thought they were crime lords – and probably be fed to a rancor or some other creatures like that.

As I waited in a cell, pending my trial, most probably my execution, a strange man came in. He was short, for a man though, wearing black robes, showing great deal of fatigue, and a somewhat sad look on his face. He was odd, and I knew there was something about him… another illusive feeling. I first thought that he was to bring me to his master and have me given as fodder for the pets. I was so wrong, though, as he introduced himself as Axem Keigoku, a Jedi – never would I had thought those were real. Only bed stories for kids, you know, people jumping tens of meters high, shoving things with their mind, using swords of light – yea right?!

He then sat next to me, without any words, I sensed a great calm surrounding me, and penetrating me. Next, the most surprising he turned to face me, and a dim slight smile which wrinkled his old looks, with simple sentence that lifted all the weight from my shoulders, faster than a pod would cross a finish line.
“Today, you’ll be freed”

And he left. That was it. I stayed in the cell, though, and only a hour later, a Garmorean pig opened the cell and let me out. As I reached the Twin suns, still baking the yellow desert of Tatooine, the Hutt halted me. In his own language, he spitted a few words then turned around. I wasn’t too sure what he said, but a familiar voice, coming from behind me translated.
“He said you lucky to have Jedi friends”

I turned to face the wrinkled man that came to my cell an hour later. I wondered what would he still be doing around, old peps should be sleeping by now, anyway! He walked close to me, and the feeling grew stronger than in the cell, the surge of calm and peace emanating from this old man was intriguing.
“If you wish to know your destiny, go to the Yavin system. Search for the Jedi Temple there…”

He lifted his hood, turned and walked away. That was the last time I saw him. But his word carried, somehow, sense and tickled my curiosity. I then packed my stuff, leaving my boss to his own fate, and since he did win loads of credits, he was more than happy to let me go since I was now known as a cheater – even if the Jedi guy proved them wrong, or so I believe. I requested my pay for the race, and I could buy ticket to Yavin system. Boarding the shuttle, I knew my destiny was at hand, but only with the help of that Axem Keigoku, would I truly know where I was heading, for real.

All in all, I’d say that if my life was filled of experiences, it is nothing compared to what is coming up before me… I am sure of that.