Korriban: The Mementos

It was early enough in the day that the air of Korriban was not pulsating with the heat yet. A young Twi'lek perched on a railing surrounding a high platform overlooking the Wilds, his back turned to the Fleet shuttle. He was sketching in the datapad, looking up from his work to give the valley lined with colossal monuments a long, attentive glance. Sometimes he dropped his datapad on his knees and stretched. Whenever that happened, a smile would inevitably find its way to his lips.

A second Twi'lek, a young girl with a heavy slave collar around her neck, emerged from the shuttle. "It will be another hour, my lord," she said to the man. He turned towards her, wobbled, whooped, and jumped off the railing. The datapad fell down.

"Time to stretch our legs then, Vette." The girl nodded: "Yes, my lord. The Sith business, and all that. Rrgh."

"Well, what should we do?" the Twi'lek mused, turning his head this way and that. "This fine valley offers us a wholesale slaughter of giant poisonous slugs, wild rushing tulaks and an assortment of possessed, insane and deluded acolytes… Hmm."

"Maybe the junk droids in a shady tomb, my lord?" Vette suggested. "Don't want to get sunburned, you know."

"Ah, Vette, Vette. Take a good look. The sands are red. The statues are red. The well-born Sith are red. My skin is far too green. Maybe with a bit of tan I can wing it."

Vette made a face: "Sure thing, my lord. You'll blend right in."

The Sith lord chuckled: "And if I happen on someone blind, deaf and completely devoid of Sensitivity, he'd absolutely mistake me for a pure-blood. Too bad all such are dead on arrival here. What to do, what to do… "

Vette picked up the datapad; it turned on when she touched it, showing a half-decent sketch of the statues. "Huh. A keepsake, my lord? Afraid you'll forget this place once we're gone?"

"Never! It'll forget me though… Unless… Oh, yes, Vette, I got it! We're going to leave something behind for Korriban to remember us by! Can you climb?"

"Ha! Can I climb? Can I climb?! If the Pirate Lord Drayden were alive he'd tell you that I- Hey, where are you-"

The Sith Lord swung over the railing and started scaling the cliff. Vette followed promptly.

"My Lord, wouldn't someone… well, kill us? For climbing the old fogies?" she asked after they've traversed from the sandstone wall to a shoulder of the ancient lord. Which one specifically Vette couldn't tell. Maybe Tulak… Whatever. They were all the same to her.

The Sith laughed so hard, he'd almost lost his footing: "Sure they would. Desecrating the monuments – not good. But they have to spot us first! They are so intent on killing each-other, they'd never look up in a million years! Now, how's your memory, Vette?"

"What?" Vette asked, tightening her grip on the rock, and cursing because she did look down when the Lord prompted her. Stupid slave collar. "My memory is great, my lord. Like Nok Drayden would-"

"Then how come you can't remember three syllables?" and without awaiting her response, the Twi'lek pulled himself up and grabbed a proud facial appendage of the stone Sith. Another pull and he was standing on the lip. He extended his hand to Vette, but she swung herself and was by his side without his help. He gave her thumbs up.

"Aha! I think we are good. Right here…"

The Sith Lord unsheathed his lightsabre and started burning the letters into the proud jaw of the statue.

"Three syllables, Vette. So, pay attention. Y-VOL-GAR…" he leaned back to appreciate his handiwork. "Got it?" Satisfied, he continued with his graffiti: and VETTE….

Vette started giggling.

"That's a serious Sith business!" Lord Yvolgar gave her a wink and finished his inscription with: BEEN HERE.

"Take that, Naga Sadow!" Yvolgar exclaimed and tried to kick the statue's nose. He succeeded in scraping some (still green) skin off his knuckles. Vette rolled her eyes. Yvolgar ouched, sucked at the bleeding hand, and turned to his companion: "Did you say the shuttle was leaving in an hour?"

"Yep!" Vette said. Then added after a pause, since he inclined his head to one shoulder, and cocked an eyebrow, in a show of exaggerated expectation: "lord Yvolgar."

"Better," he said nodding. "Lose the 'lord' next time. I'm a Lord to slaves and the like."

Vette run her finger along the top of her collar. He bit his lip. "Sorry. My bad. Now, let's make the shuttle."

"What, we climb down real fast?" Vette looked at the sheer cliff extending forever below them. "We took the better part of the hour to get here."

Yvolgar pointed at his boots: "Brand new, patented rocket boots. Prepare to be amazed!"

Vette started to throw her hands up, but wisely clung back to the rock. "Rocket boots?! Have you gotten too much sun after all… erm… lord Yvolgar?"

"Vette, those were made at my Da's factory, the super-secret, the best of the best prototype. Add my being a progeny in the Force, and we are going to make the shuttle. You'll see." Before she could object, Lord Yvolgar grabbed his slave around the waist, eyeballed the distance, yelped: "Hold tight and keep your lekku out of my face!"

…and leaped.

Right to the platform. They rolled together a few times, before coming to a full stop. It took a couple of moments for Vette to scramble back to her feet. Lord Yvolgar was already standing, dusting the sand off his pants. He pointed at the shuttle. "RUN!" The ramp started to retreat as they leaped again… just leapt this time. Yvolgar waved their Fleet passes at the steward droid who wore the usual look of resignation and interminable sadness. The droid showed them in.

As the red planet of Korriban fell back, and the black skies opened up, Vette laughed: "Korriban won't forget us now, lord Yvolgar."

"Not a chance!" Lord Yvolgar grinned at her delightedly, dropped into his seat and propped his boots on another one. He gave the still steaming footwear a loving look.

"Made in Balmorra, Miss. Just like me."