SPOILERS: Spoilers from the episode Missing in Action are in this story!
Disclaimer: I own no copyrighting privileges from Lucusfilm nor Disney I do not own any characters and the basic storyline is inspired by the episode Missing in Action. However, many little details within this story are my own and are therefore Non-Canon.
"Home is Behind, the Wo-or-rld Ahead"
Who am I? Do you really want to know? If you can imagine half a thing that I can learn or if you believe my story is supposed to be interesting to anyone outside the City, then I am here to tell you that you came to the wrong place.
I'm sure you would believe the same when you hear what my job is. I am merely a humble dishwasher of a diner. My boss is a greasily greedy Sullustan named Mr. Borkus. Although everyone else believes he is very impatient and an unfriendly parasite, I know he truly is a kind fellow. He saved my life and took me in as my only family. He gave me a job at his eating establishment, even when none else would hire me. Pons Ora (and the rest of Abafar for that matter) was an extremely unforgiving, godforsaken place. It takes everything from life and never gives. As for me, my story began-
Oh my, I forgot my manners! I could keep narrating until the darkness of this planet can cease to settle that I forget to introduce myself! My name (surprised I even have a name) is Gregory Boss! But everyone knows me simply, for short, as Gregor... Gregor, I know, I know. Sounds like I am a tough man. Well, I have to hand it to you: 'Names can be deceiving'. I am no man. I have no meaning. I am just a dishwasher. My sole purpose in life is to clean excess waste of others. I am just a misfit.
And if that's makes you sad, don't. You don't need to worry nor pity me. The truth is I don't have a life. All I remember in my birth was fire, despair, and the Void.
I woke up into life on a ... bed. Well, I guess it's a bed because it had a pillow, but it looked as if someone chiseled into the white, rocky wall. There was something..., familiar about this place. There was white floors, white tables, white bookshelves, white chairs, and white doors. It was like I was laying in a large test tube.
I raised my head and groaned, except...- except, I felt a very grueling bump on my forehead. It was very painful.
I tried to remember what caused the pain, but... I couldn't remember. I don't remember how I got here nor what happened beforehand. I don't remember anything. But I knew something or someone brought me here.
Strange. I had no memory of how I ended up here and yet I had enough intelligent knowledge to know that I did not magically appear here by accident. No, someone brought me here. I just could not put my finger on what-
The door quickly slid open and a very fat man came in the room. At least I thought he was a man because...- I couldn't tell. I knew he had awfully flabby cheeks to be a man. Perhaps that was due to his obesity.
"So choo vinally decided to wake up." Said the strange man with the most strangest accent I could never have expected for a man that fat. Then I asked the question I was so dying to ask since I woke up.
"Where am I?" I rubbed my head, suddenly realizing how much of a headache I had. "Ouch!" I exclaimed when I put pressure on the bump of my head. I looked at my fingers and there was a bit of blood on it. Boy, I didn't know my head injury was that serious! The hulking man must have known I was in pain because he headed over to the sink, grabbed a ceramic cup, poured some water into it, and handed it to me.
"To choo'r health," The fat man said. I looked taken aback, not knowing what he expected me to do, but when he noticed that I did nothing, he nodded in a 'go-ahead' way and said hostly, "G'on! G'head! Drwink!" Drink? I didn't know what that meant at all. He seemed to understand my confusion for he took the cup from me without request and said, "Like t'is." He tilted the bottom of cup up, opened his mouth, poured the liquid in; and after he took a sip, he placed the cup back, gulped noisily, and gave a sound that approved he quenched his thirst. "Now choo do what I did."
I took the cup again, mimicked his actions, and quickly slurped the contents of the cup; except it dumped all over my shirt, drenching it. I jumped back in disgust at my failure and the man didn't do anything but laughed hysterically at my accident. "Ho, choo act like a three-year-ol' chil'." He continued his boisterous snigger and sighed after he had his fun.
I was curious of who this man. I gave him a questioning look and asked, "What are you?"
"Well," He bellowed, "I'om a Sullustan! I uwsed to work at de mining vacilities on de uther side of toon-" Man, was it hard to follow his accent! It was one I never heard...- well..., I can't remember!
"No, I mean..., what's your, uh, name?" I interrupted.
"Oh, course! Where ar' ma manners!" He burst into unnecessary laughter once again. "I... I-I must have, he he he- I must have left them to deep vry!" He continued guffawing as if there was no tomorrow, slapped his knee, and continued bursting out tears of hysterity. "Ugh..." He got back to his senses, "Ma name is Bosius Borkus. I own a diner doontoon of here called 'Power Sliders'. I'is not much of a restaurant, but 'ey, it sure beats da back-breaking labor that men usually do a' da mine."
"Hold on a minute! What is this place?! What's going on?!" I wistfully asked. "Um, Bosius-"
"Pwease," He insisted, "call me 'Mr. Borkus'." I took a deep breath and asked my question again, this time much slower.
"Okay, Okay..., Mr. Borkus..., what is this place?"
"Hmmmmm, ouh, yes. This place, this toon is known as'a Pons Ora. It is a mining vacility rwon by de Sep'ratist drwoids. E'ryone 'oo lives here ar' smugglers or pirates 'oo crwash-landed on this...," He sighed spitefully. "dustball. People 'oo crwash usually never come out o' de desert that surrounds this place. Those 'oo do ar' da lucky ones. The drwoids rescue us vrom the ones 'oo ar' lost and give them a peaceful life away vrom de Void."
"The Void, sir?" I asked questioningly.
"Ouh, yes. The Void! It t'is de desert that surrounds this toon. A'yone 'oo is brwave enough to venture out there..., never return." He shook his head and sighed, "Oh, how I lost so many good friends to that..., that op'ressive desert. They believed it is right to leave this pwace for a better life, but their effort becomes only a vool's errand. It is suicide to have adventure, choo musta un'erstand that. I'is better to have a simple life than no life at all." He sighed again, "They were very good pweople. Good... but voolish. I lost so many good pweople to de Void. It brwings hopelessness, choo see. Makes me wonder why people bother."
"Perhaps they do it because they are brave." I commented.
But that only caused the hulking Borkus to guffaw once again. When he finished his fit of laughter, he looked at me again and said, "There is no such ting as brwavery, ma boy. Brwavery only leads to annihilation... Choo wou'd have died had it not been vor me."
"Yeah," I interrupted once again, "that is my next question. Where did I come from? Who am I?" I needed to know, and if I cannot remember myself, then I need someone else to do it for me.
He skimmed ahead to the details, "When I came to choo'r ship, choo were barely alive. I saw that bump on choo'r head and figured choo needed help. I brought choo here, ma medical drwoid checked on choo, an' it vound ou' that choo have amnesia." Amnesia? Was that some kind of bug?
"What is amnesia?" I asked.
"It t'is the condition of the brwain where someone loses part o' their memory. It is sometimes short-termed, but sometimes it never comes back." He answered. My heart puddled into the pit of my stomach. So, I may never remember who I am? That made me extremely grieved and fearful.
"Is this amnesia gonna last forever?" I begged desperately.
Mr. Borkus' pitying facial expression said it all, however. "Prwobably so." He answered. I fell back into my bed, completely depraved. "I'm sorry that choo have to deal with this..." He commented sympathetically.
I said nothing. I still needed to know who I am. I just had to. "Was there anything in my ship that survived my crash?" I asked...
Borkus did not immediately answer like last time. Then after a suspiciously hesitant moment, he promptly said, "No. I am sorry. What ever choo carried on choo'r ship was either lost in space, or was not there at all." He said frankly. Well, he did have a logical point. What would I have with me that could be so important?
"Okay." I retorted stiffly.
There was a long silence until Mr. Borkus finally said, "I'om sorry with what choo have to zeal with..." I said nothing. He was just repeating himself. "Lis'en," He said with a sudden amount of enthusiasm, "if it would make choo veel an'a better, how abou' choo work at ma eating joint, hmmm...? Choo can be dishwasher." He punched my shoulder encouragingly. "It will be better than the rough manual labor that ev'ryone has to do here." I continued to say nothing. When he spoke again he was much more threatening than before. "Oh, and choo owe me vor saving choo'r life. Choo ar' lucky to be here, an' better yet choo do not have to toil in the voundries of the fuel mines." He offered, but I quickly pipped in by interrupting.
"What is the fuel they excavate here?" I asked.
"Abafar's Rhydonium. A very small amoun' can equal a lot of power, he he... Powerful power... The drwoids are goin' to use them vor a particular plan in their war with de Republic."
I was thoughtful... I didn't know what a Republic was, but for some odd reason it sounded familiar. But I kept my mouth shut on that matter. "Hmmmm," I hummed to myself, "is there anything I can do here besides cleaning or mining-"
"NO!" Borkus shouted, way too hastily. "Choo must remember that choo owe me choo'r life. Choo ar' lucky to be alive and not suffering vrom despair."
"Okay." I reassured.
But he was not so acceptable of my wishy-washy attitude for he stood up, dominating above where I laid, and elaborated, "Choo musta un'erstand that this is a cruel place. Choo either survive or perish. Nothing more, nothing less! DON'T CHOO UN'ERSTAND!? If ay'one were to come by choo'r dying body they vould have casually left choo to rot and have choo'r remains eaten by buzzards! And this is de thanks I get for saving choo'r life!? Choo owe me!"
I simply cowered as far as I could... I suppose I do owe him respect for what he did.
"Alright, alright, I'll work for you, sir. As long as I get a sufficient salary." I coiled.
"I will pay choo however I can to keep ma profits. Choo just know choo'r place. Okay?" He ordered.
"Yes, of course." I listed out quickly.
"Yes, 'boss' or 'Mr. Borkus'." He scowled.
"Yes, boss." I said salutary.
"Very good. Choo're learning. I expect proper appreciation when choo work at ma place. Just choo remember: Choo ar' lucky to be here."
"Yes, sir." I sniffed
"Does this make choo feel bad?" He asked with an unexpecting concern.
"No..." I said, "Just a little gregarious. I want to go outside and have a look around."
Borkus chuckled. "Choo use very big words vor someone 'oo just received amnesia."
"Well, I can't help it, boss. It's almost like it's bred into me."
Mr. Borkus snapped his fingers. "That's it! That's what I will call choo! Gregor! Gregory Boss, how's-a that! Choo like it?"
I just smiled and said, "You can call me whatever you want boss. It doesn't matter to me."
"Of course it doesn't. Choo jus' remember that it t'is worth it to have a simple life than none at all. A man like choo deserves it. Just remember choo'r purpose."
I closed my diary and put it back on my shelf. It was the only thing I can do in my free time other than drink all the alcohol that I can afford... And I didn't mind.
Today, I needed to get ready for another day at work... But what I didn't know was that this is the last day that I had to toil under Bosius Borkus.