THE RACING CHAMPION

In my early years I raced everything that could be raced. Speeders, swoops and pod racers. I was able to derive enjoyment out of racing with beasts, such as dewbacks on the ground, thrantas in the air, and bentails in the sea. Once, we even raced stolen AT-STs through the thick jungles of Joralla. Contests, I won with my piloting skills. Any other disputes, I ended with my force pike.
But one by one, the authorities clamped down on racing all over the galaxy. As the racing world came to a crawl so did my life. I was a shell of my former self, lonely, sad and depressed.

Then I tried to revive a pod race in the Sumitra Sector. The old racers finally came out from under the rocks that they had crawled to. But the authorities were also waiting. For transgressors of their law, they only had one easy penalty: death. Dozens died that day. I, however, used an old racing pod coupled to a pair of new Incom turbine engines to escape the massacre. I weaved in and out of sandstone canyons, gorges, and winding caverns of that region with blaster fire awaiting me at every turn.

Finally, one of my pod engines caught a laser blast and was vaporized, my pod slammed into a granite wall and came apart as I jumped for relative safety, and I broke several ribs, an arm and both my legs. Several armed vehicles, speeders and walkers, had cornered me. Suddenly, there was a heavy barrage from the surroundings that utterly destroyed my assailants.

A company of mixed species, bristling with wit and weapon, asked me to join them. They brought me to a hidden base where my injuries were treated. And from that day on, I employed my racing skills to get these Rebels and their equipment safely through all sorts of blaster fire and meteor storm.

It might not be racing, but the enjoyment of it is beyond anything I've ever imagined.

THE PETRIFIED BOUNTY HUNTER

I don't move much. If I sit I can sit for hours without even blinking an eyelid. If I stand I don't even so much as twitch an antenna. Nobody thinks twice about me being anywhere, even when I have a menacing force pike in hand.

It is of course, a dangerous underestimation on their part, for you see I am a bounty hunter. Many times my quarry walks unwittingly within arms' length for me do deliver the coup-de-grace. They don't see me. And if they do, they don't register any danger.

I know body language talks much. So I don't move because I don't want anyone to know (Gran nor non-Gran) that I fear anything with less than three eyes. I have an acute fear of them. I am am not in control of the situation, they can intimidate me into doing unwise things.

Humans, Duros, Shistavanen, Devaronians, Ishi Tibs, even banthas, dewbacks, eopies and ducks scare the hell out of me. So as payback, I make a living hunting them.

As long as I am in control.