Fernando strolled his way through the pit stop. Although it looked like a regular pit, this one wasn‘t made out of metal. Not even close.

He gazed at the varied assortment of mechanical vehicles, as he walked past cutting-edge technology. The dense forest surrounded them, with an exit paved in stone for the racers on the opposite side. The sunlight reflected off of the sheen of the speeders as they lit up Fernando’s silvery eyes.

Unlike other races in the Galaxy, these speeders had been hand-crafted. Each vehicle, a spitting reflection of its driver. Traveling down the pit-stop, the almost ear-splitting power tools whirred, hissed, and buzzed. Fernando didn’t bat an eye, being so desensitized to the sound of machinery. He couldn’t help but give a warm smile, and wave at the competitors.

One seemed to recognize him, waving his hand and giving a momentary smile, as she continued waxing the rims of her long, purple racer. His light-green, Peoqoyian skin complemented with those of the beige, red, and navy complexions of the others around him. As he finally approached the end of the strip, his eyes landed upon his closest friend.

“Kaspur!”, Fernando exclaimed in delight.

He soon rushed over to him, not even noticing the other racers handing him tight-lipped glares. The glares soon turned into awe when their eyes landed on the golden, turquoise, and emerald lining that were his clothes.

“Oh, hey Fer-” The wind in Kaspur blasted out of his body as Fernando squeezed him.

“Today’s your big day! I can’t wait to see you on the course!” Said Fernando, squashing his friend in his adoring grip.

When he finally let go, the air rushed back inside his dark-skinned companion’s lungs.

“Whew, when did you get so strong? You’re even wearing your celebratory outfit, you really went all out today.”

Fernando flexed his bicep, and chuckled.

“Looks like we’ve got some fierce competition, don’t we? Racers from all over have come to compete, this might be a harder race than I thought...” Kaspur glanced with a slight frown at the other cars.

They were high-tech, sleek, and looked like someone bought them with the better end of a paycheck. Hell, they looked faster.

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“Hey! Don’t mind those drophy’s over there. Just cause they cost more doesn’t mean they’re better. I’m sure our speeder will come out on top!” He raised his fist in confidence.

“It might’ve worked in the past, but we’re not competing with locals anymore. This race is much, much, bigger. 60 racers, all vying for first.”—He paused, and took another look at the official flyer—“But I just can’t miss the opportunity for this beauty of a ship. Money is one thing, but you can’t dangle a suite in space, and expect me not to bite.”

Kaspur scanned the competition once again, his brown racing coat adorned with the number 13, flowing in the breeze.

Their opponents were now covered in women. Most likely bragging about how their speeder was the most expensive.

Kaspur went on one knee to speak face to face. Their ears picked up on the breeze of the wind and the sounds of the swaying trees, as everything went silent.

“Listen. To win this relay, I’m gonna need your help.” His medallion shaded racing pants were already grimy, a little dirt wouldn’t hurt.

“But I can’t ride in the buggy with you, it’s single racers only,” Fernando replied.

“Not like that...I need you to use your-”—His fingers moved in a squirming fashion—“ya know?”

Fernando stared back with a blank face, blinking only once.

Kaspur sighed. His eyes peered to the left for a moment, his speeder had never looked so...garbage.

“I want you to help me...by using your abili-”

“Wait, what, you want me to cheat!?”—Raising his voice to a little less than optimal degree—“That's just...wrong.”

“I know, I know. But when you chase something for a while, you start getting desperate. This race is very important to me. It’s my entire life...”—He paused once more—“You’d only use it when I’m really losing and need some extra kick, okay?” Cradling his young friend’s shoulders at a last attempt of persuasion.

“Erm…”—Taking a view of the ferocious opposition, and then at their red, four-wheeled speeder—“Fine...but only when you absolutely need it. Let’s wipe the floor with ‘em!”

“Thanks, Ollie”—Letting out a tremendous sigh of relief—“I won’t let you down bud.”

He rose back on two legs, leaving an imprint in the dirt.

“And just in time. You better run along now,” Kaspur said, gazing at the announcer’s face, who arrived a second earlier.

Not wanting to miss a single second of the race, Fernando wished his friend good luck with another hug.