En Bref (Short Stories)

The Mementos (SWTOR Fanfic)

A young Twi'lek perched on the railing surrounding a high platform overlooking the Wilds next to the Korriban Sith Academy. His back was turned to the Imperial Fleet shuttle. He doodled in the datapad, looking up from his work once in a while to give the valley lined with the colossal monuments an 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.

The second Twi'lek, this one a girl with a 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 Sith suggested.

The girl nodded: "Yes, my lord. The Sith business, and all that. Rrgh."

"Well, what should we do?" he twisted his head this way and that. "This fine valley offers us a wholesale slaughter of giant poisonous slugs, wild tulaks and an assortment of possessed acolytes... Hmm."

"Maybe you can kill some junk droids deep in a shady tomb, my lord?" Vette suggested. "If you get sunburned..."

"Ah, Vette, Vette. Take a good look..." he draped his hand around her shoulder and turned her to make sure she saw what he did. "The sands are red. The statues are red. The well-born Sith are red."

Vette nodded her agreement. There was a whole lot of the red things.

"My skin is far too green," he sad with a sad twist to his mouth. "Maybe with a bit of tan I can wing it."

She made a face. "Sure, my lord, you'll blend in."

He chuckled. "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... "

She bit her lip, and picked up the datapad instead of answering. It turned on when she touched it, and a half-decent sketch of the statues was still there, along with the wild spirals and cross-hatches "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!" He dashed off, then froze on the spot. "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 girls' mouth remained open after her voice trailed off.

Her Sith Lord and master swung over the railing and started scaling the cliff.

Vette followed him with a growing apprehension.

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

The Sith laughed so hard, he'd almost lost his footing: "Sure they would. Desecrating the monuments! How we! But they have to spot us first. They are so intent on killing each-other, they'd never look up. 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 fine, 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 the proud facial appendage of the stone Sith. Another pull and he was standing on the statue's lip. He extended his hand to Vette, but she swung herself up 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.

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 instead.

Vette rolled her eyes.

Yvolgar ouched, and turned to his companion still sucking his bleeding hand. "Did you say the shuttle was leaving in an hour?"

"Yep!" Vette said.

He inclined his head to one shoulder, and cocked an eyebrow, the very sight of the exaggerated expectation.

"Erm," Vette mumbled. "Lord Yvolgar."

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

She ran her finger along the top of her collar wordlessly.

He bit his lip. "Sorry. My bad. Now, let's make the shuttle."

"How? By climbing down real fast?" Vette looked down at the sheer cliff extending forever and got dizzy. "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 right back to the rock. "Rocket boots?! Have you gotten too much sun after all... erm... lord Yvolgar?"

"Vette, those were made at my dad'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 her 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."