Luke needed to reach the canyon mouth and sabotage Fixer's T-16. Windy tagged along, probably believing Luke to have taken Camie at her word. A ring of onlookers surrounded another fight and moved as the fighters neared the edges. Luke pushed into the ring, intent on cutting through quickly, but found that to be a dumb try, as one man punched at his opponent and came close to Luke's head. Luke dodged the punch, but then a fighter shoved him aside and observers screamed at him to get out of the way. Windy held his arm and pulled him from the chaos as beer cans flew at them.
A man accosted him seconds later and pushed a cup to his front. "Soda and rum. Try it." Luke declined. The man sloshed the drunk on Luke's tunic and laughed. Luke wrung his tunic out, cursed, and remembered his goal. There were more disruptions: solicitations for alcohol, spice, and sex, but Luke resisted them all and finally he and Windy came to the start line.
One T-16 had launched and the second did so as they came within a few meters.
The engines blasted light and dust and ruckus right on top of him and he stumbled back to land on his rear. He rubbed spots from his eyes and spit. He shot to his feet and ran at the craft, calling out for its pilot to stop, but it was a futile effort.
"Fixer hot-wired my T-16," Luke kicked a rock. "He's the only one here besides me who knows how. He hijacked my property and handed it to someone else so he could have his stupid race."
Windy groaned. "Maybe I can get some action in a second round. I was really looking forward to testing our skills against a legend."
"Get real," Luke said. "There's going to be a single round, and I'll see to it that Fixer pays in credits or farm service. That's if he survives out there." They stood and waited. The music drowned the dying sounds of engines in the distance. Beggar's Canyon was twenty-five kilometers, which meant these races were done quick. A few minutes passed and Luke became hopeful that his worries were for nothing. The racers would near Stone Needle at any time. Maybe they had cleared it, miraculously enough.
An explosion sounded. A pillar of fire and smoke rose from the horizon. Some partiers turned to stare in shock, some went about their carnality, and a few women, Camie among them, screamed.
Luke ran to his speeder and hopped inside, turned the ignition and zoomed. He yanked the controls side to side, skirted boulders and turned corners. He switched on his headlights and sped up as the path straightened. Anger faded, replaced by fear for his friend, regardless how often they were at odds. He glanced to cliff edges, wary of Tuskens wanting target practice.
Firelight exposed carnage ahead. A skyhopper was wedged between Stone Needle and a cliff face, turned into a giant fireball. The second was at the foot of the opposite wall, burning but recognizable. Luke spun the speeder ninety degrees and abused the brakes. He ran to the wreckage and began to wrench open the cockpit. Heat burned his palms, but he fought the agony. Fixer and Tank were inside: the former was unconscious, the latter charred remains.