Chapter Text
It was the last race of the season and Din felt confident for once. The Razor Crest team had had a rather mediocre performance in the past races and an absolute nightmare of a starting race, but things were looking up. The weather had cleared from yesterday's rainy qualifier and Din had snagged himself a midfield starting position. P11 wasn't too bad if you played your corners right and used your DRS greenlights to their maximum potential. Din’s car stood out amongst the others mostly for its older bodywork design and unconventional paint job (an artificially done silver that makes the car seem unpainted if not for all the sponsorships pasted all over it).
Din’s confidence also stemmed from the fact that 2 cars had surpassed the 107% rule during qualifiers due to the poor conditions and would not be racing today. Less competition to worry about. It was currently 2 minutes to start, and Din’s pit crew finished their last checks on the car, removed the heating pads from the wheels and moved out the way with the other teams’ crews.
Din lifted himself slightly in his seat to see the cars ahead of him. His eyes immediately drifted to the car in pole position. Luke Skywalker, he's been driving for Scuderia Jedi Force for the past 2 years and had made quite the name for himself outside of the shadow of his father who raced for the same team 20 years prior. Din liked Luke a lot. He was passionate about the sport and had stayed away from the bad politics involved by staying humble and kind to all his competitors (as much as he could anyway as just a driver, there were the officials from your team to worry about as well). Din even had a good off-track relationship with the young driver who always found time to come to Din's side of the paddock on the Qualifier Day to gossip about the other drivers and to hit a soccer ball around with him and Din's son, Grogu.
Din can clearly see his son in his mind's eye getting his headphones fitted to listen in on the team's chatter and sitting in front of the multitude of screens to watch his dad race. Grogu was definitely a massive motivator for Din's racing but also for Din to race safely. The field of motorsport was unforgiving, and one slip up could be the end of you in two ways, your career or your death. “One last radio check, Din. Sounding clear?” Din’s team principal, Greef Karga, has been one of Din’s greatest supporters since he joined Razor Crest 2 years ago. Greef himself had also just joined on after a horrible stint with Hunter Racing and had formed a quick friendship with Din.
“Loud and clear, Karga. What’s Grogu’s prediction this time?” Grogu always had a knack for knowing how a race would go and always gave his prediction beforehand to the team. They would take bets on how accurate it would be. Din could hear a sigh over the comms. “He is actually pretty upset at the moment. I asked what was wrong and he just said that there was going to be fire. He’s currently back at the paddock with Peli.” Not a good day then. “Pass along that I love him, will you?” Greef gave a grunt of confirmation just as the warning for the 30 seconds to start came on.
“Head cool and tyres hot, Din. Let’s make this one count.” Din flipped his visor down and relaxed his muscles. Din could see the red lights up on the board overhead. He sees them go off one by one and revs his engine in response. The last one goes off and the race begins.
Din pulled away from starting position and swerved around the P9 car in front of him. The sky-blue paint job tells him it is one of the Nubia Prime drivers, probably Ryoo Naberrie if yesterday’s qualifier was to go by. By the time Din rounded the first turn he had gone up from P11 to P8. It’s the best start he’s had all season and Din wants to push forward with this.
“What’s Skywalker’s position?” Din knows how precarious it is to maintain the first position while sitting on pole. “He’s fallen back 2 spots. Erso is in lead and Vanth just behind.” Precarious indeed. Turn 2 went by without hindrance and Turn 3 was just ahead. The Boonta Eve track was not the trickiest of tracks Din has had to traverse, with three long straights and only 3 sharp corners it should be a metaphorical Sunday drive to keep his driving clean and incident free. Din saw a flash of orange and the sound of a heavy impact just above the thrum and whine of the cars around him.
Fire. Someone had crashed.
Din sped past Turn 3 but didn’t get a first good look. His ear-view mirrors gave him a better view. Worse, actually. What Din saw was bad. Flames were billowing from the metal barrier where the car seemed to have gone straight through. Din's radio crackled on. “Red Flag, Red Flag. You gotta slow down and keep your delta positive until the safety car can lead you back in.” Fuck.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! That was big. Are they ok?” and more quietly, “Who is it?”
“Skywalker… he got shunted on the turn's exit.” Din veered sharply and almost bumped into one of Gunga Racing’s drivers before righting himself.
“I saw it in the mirrors, is he out yet?!” Din was panicking.
“There isn’t any info yet, I’ll let you know.”
“No, no, please…”
“…”
“Any info yet?” Din could hear his voice crack.
“No, Djarin. Get to the pits and we’ll go from there.”
It was a long drive to the pits and when Din finally stopped in his box he scrambled out of his seat and ran over to where Greef was monitoring the camera feeds. “What’s happening?” Greef pointed to one of the screens where the crash was on full display from one of the helicopter cams. The car had split in two with the front half having gone through the barrier completely. Everything was on fire and the first responders were trying their best to control the flames.
“Is he out yet?” Surely in the time that it had taken them to get around the track…
“No, but we are seeing movement from inside.”
Din watched with bated breath as a helmet became visible from the inferno engulfing the wrecked car. “Come on Luke, get out of there.” One of the responders tugged on Luke’s suit as soon as he was close enough to the edge of the flames. Luke reached back and hurled himself over the broken barrier and into the arms of the responder. Luke was being hosed down and carted away to the medical vehicle nearby to wait for the ambulance to arrive. “How he walks away from a 160-mile-per-hour impact… At least he got out.” Greef’s relief is clear in his voice.
He looked a right state and the way he was clutching his left hand to his chest was not a welcoming sign. Din released the breath he was holding and started stripping from his driving suit. “What are you doing Djarin? We’re going to restart as soon as the debris is cleared.” “Put Calican in my place. I’m going to the hospital.” Din turned away from the control room with his suit still hanging around his waist. He could hear Greef sighing behind him as he left.