Jedi Fugitive (The Bad Batch)

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A/N: Almost 5k reads! Kinda an accomplishment thank to everyone who's loving it so far haha

Astera:

I had only just finished the final modifications to the speeder when the call for my race sounded. It was just as well: there was only so much tweaking I could do, and I was pretty sure I had reached the limit. At least it was far more manoeuvrable than before. I could only hope it would be enough.

The pit droids helped us move the speeder down to the start line, where the rest of the competitors were already lined up. Jet Venim sneered at me from the other side of the track, mouthing several words in his native language I already knew were violent and filthy. Several of the others were sizing me up too, the newcomer with flashy looking armour and a beat up speeder. I wondered how many of them were on Millegi's payroll. How many I'd have to dodge to avoid the 'Venim Crunch.'

"I hope you know what you're doing." Wrecker said to me, voice low so the others couldn't hear. The racers were all warming up in some way or other, all of them looking far more experienced than I was. And all of them were either male or droids.

"Yeah, I hope so too," I muttered to myself, glancing towards the speeder that suddenly seemed much larger than it was. Tech said nothing, only making final calculations on his datapad with an affirming nod to both it and me. I nodded back, the only communication we needed. We had our plan. It was just a matter of implementing it right.

Omega put a hand over my arm, gazing worriedly up at me. "Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine, kid." I tried to grin down at her, forgetting she could not see my expression. "I've got this."

She leaned in close, tugging me down so she could whisper into my ear.

"May the Force be with you."

"Thanks, Omega. And with you." The smile that spread over my face was real this time, and I ruffled her hair before the three of them were shooed off the track. It was only me and the other racers now. It was time.

"Aaaaalright, place your bets! Our racers are ready!" The announcer was far too cheery for such a macabre event. I swallowed against the nerves that had suddenly begun rolling in my stomach, climbing into the cockpit. This was our only chance. And I was up against competitors with way more experience. But it wasn't the first time I'd gone up against odds like this before. The last four years of my life had prepared me for situations like these.

"Safa Toma's Riot Champion, Jet Venim!" The cheers erupting from the crowd at Venim's announcement snapped my attention back to the announcer as he rattled off the rest of the contestants. Bosco "The Mad Bomber" Brix, the one I definitely had to avoid putting behind me, "Steel Claw" Kane, "Vicious" Vid Santari, and at least four more with flashy nicknames that hinted at their true nature on the track. Until... "And finally... Ashe!"

Silence. The stirring of the dust on the ground was the only sound at the proclamation of my name. Even the announcer was confused, launching into a spiel that was almost half to himself. "Ashe? Anything else on this guy? No? Guess he's a late arrival. Is that his name? Ashe? Just Ashe? She?"

He fell silent for a moment, as though listening to someone else before returning, having recovered himself enough to address the crowds again. "We have a female on the tracks, ladies and gentlemen. The first one in, well... forever!"

I could hear the murmurs even from here, the spectators whispering to each other as all eyes turned to me. It was an uncomfortable feeling, having all the attention on me when I'd spent so long staying as far away from any kind of trouble for so long, but I ignored it as best as I could and hunkered down further in the cockpit. They didn't know I was Jedi. I was just a faceless racer to them, fresh meat ready to be torn to shreds.