Outer Rim Thrills

A glowing handheld tablet lay propped against the plush fabric of the sofa cushion, broadcasting high-speed amateur drone racing through a neon subterranean course. *Hsssh-krrr.* The raw, chaotic thrust of twin turbine engines tearing through hairpin turns was undeniable—the closest spectacle this sector offers to true Outer Rim podracing. I positioned myself squarely upon the armrest, boots firmly planted into the woven upholstery. When a yellow drone executed an illegal, razor-thin overtake along the concrete pillar, I could not suppress a sharp forward lean and an affirmative clench of my right gauntlet. Such reckless maneuvering possesses crude tactical brilliance. For forty minutes, the galaxy was properly pacified beneath the whine of repulsorlifts.