Private Space Cowboys

[Lysander von Ascania]

Haro Aven
​

Lysander stepped out from the halls of Kor’ethr Academy, glancing toward the fading sun, which suggested it was already late in the afternoon. As had become routine, he donned a black tunic and leggings again. Unlike many of the other acolytes, who opted for black combat boots, he adorned sleek black high-tops. A forest green backpack hung over one shoulder, though the written contents inside were from a heart more interested in poetry than academic work.

Though today was a rest day from the gym, it was a struggle to not show up, even if his body was screaming for a much needed break. He’d grown rather accustomed to throwing steel plates around with the Zabrak by now. But tonight was different. He had plans with Haro, which promised laughter.

Only moments after meeting, they were en route to their destination. “Man, I’m so glad classes are over today,” he muttered, rubbing his neck. “My brain was totally elsewhere during the lab.. but at least for lightsaber instruction I could just show up and put in the work. Djem So is finally starting to feel more natural.”

Reaching around and into the side pocket of his backpack, he retrieved something carefully rolled. He held it up for one final inspection. Not his best work, but the acolyte figured it would’ve been good enough to get a nod of approval from Madrona A’Mia who’d also become a mentor of sorts recently.

Bringing it to his lips, Lysander retrieved a lighter from his pocket and flicked it, touching the flame to the tip. Inhaling deeply, he tasted the pine and citrus flavors before a light cough escaped. Tension that had been coiled in his shoulders melted away as he entered a new state of relaxation.

He took another long drag, letting it fill his lungs, while smoothly swapping the lighter for his smaller datapad. As usual, he felt foolish for even checking—it wasn’t like he expected any messages from Sibylla Abrantes . Smoke curled into the cool air as he exhaled slowly. Pulling himself from deep contemplation, Lysander glanced at Haro and offered the rolled item along with a wry smile. "I'm pretty sure when a girl says 'I'm fine,' she’s actually not fine,” he mused. With the device no longer threatening to consume him, he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair and gazed ahead. "I've come to realize it's actually the exact opposite. It's like.. a Jedi mind trick or something, you know?”

Neon lights from the arcade in the distance beckoned him forward. “Loud music and trying to beat someone’s high score sound fun.”

​

 

[Haro Aven]

LOCATION: KORRIBAN > KOR'ETHYR ACADEMY​

TIMESTAMP: AFTER DETENTION IN DUNGEON, BEFORE SITH HOLY WORLD TOUR​

EQUIPMENT: CASUAL CLOTHES | BODIE | DATAPAD​

OBJECTIVE: HANG OUT WITH Lysander von Ascania ​

Running a few minutes behind, Haro jogged to the spot he was suppose to meet up with Lysander. He'd nearly lost track of time working away in the mechanics shop on the cargo speeder he and Naamino Zuukamano intended to bring to the upcoming Tuk'ata Tears concert. He'd been spending every little chunk of free time he had getting it repaired ahead of schedule so he could get away with 'borrowing' it for the overnight trip without getting caught. Time keeping had never been Haro's strong suit, but his head had been exceptionally airy lately since his date with Leshanna Dromar and he found that she occupied his thoughts more than usual now that they were getting so much closer. He was still in disbelief that it had even happened and that he even had someone as amazing as Lesh to go on dates with. She wasn't the only one taking up space in his mind or his heart though. That, and the true circumstances of his attendance of Kor'ethyr Academy certainly further complicated things in a way he couldn't risk talking to anyone about, except maybe Bodie. When he'd imagined coming to Kor'ethyr, he figured it would be pretty easy for him to make friends and connections, but he could've never known just how much he would care about them or how lonely it could feel to be surrounded by people he was lying to.

Despite their decidedly rough start, Haro found he was actually looking forward to spending some down time with Lysander at the arcade—shoot the chit, play some games, distract his overactive brain with something mindless and simple, maybe get a better read on his fellow Derriphan. Considering Haro had been acquainted with his fist before even having a proper conversation with the guy, he was admittedly surprised when Lysander had reached out and invited him to hang out after class. Logically, he knew he should maintain a healthy caution of the boy since all he knew about him was what he'd seen at Woostri, what had been shared during detention together, and what he'd learned of the name von Ascania in the little bit of research he'd done. Perhaps he could learn what a guy with a surname that seemed to be associated with Inner Rim politics and the Jedi Order was doing in a Sith academy. Perhaps they had more in common than Haro had initially thought.

Upon arriving, Haro offered a greeting and a quick apology for his tardiness, and they were off. Lysander slipped effortlessly into small talk, lamenting about being distracted in lab but feeling better about his lightsaber lessons, specifically Djem So. Haro recognized the term from his lessons with Niynx Ioune and nodded along. He could certainly relate to feeling distracted during class but he was curious where Lysander's brain might have wandered. He was about to ask when the blonde boy pulled what appeared to be a little rolled up something from his pack, then proceeded to light it up and smoke from it. Since he'd been working on a Undercity shipyard since he was a kid, Haro had been around smokers his whole life. Though she permitted her mechanics their smoke breaks, Mrs. Khaal didn't tolerate anything too "hard" being used at the shipyard, and she made sure Haro didn't get involved with any of it. Haro watched curiously as smoke curled from Lysander's lips—he had to admit it did look super cool—then noticed him check his datapad wistfully.

Haro eyed the offered item with a raised eyebrow, cautious but very curious.

"I'm pretty sure when a girl says 'I'm fine,' she's actually not fine," Lysander mused.

Haro lifted his gaze to study the boy's face, a wry smile of his own pulling at the edge of his mouth. He took the little rolled up paper between thumb and forefinger and gave it a closer look. The burning smell of it filled the air around them.

"I've come to realize it's actually the exact opposite. It's like... a Jedi mind trick or something, you know?"

"I mean... I think it depends on the girl, and how much she trusts you," Haro offered in response, still contemplating the smokable in his hand. Before he could change his mind, he shifted his grip on it so he held it casually between two fingers, all suave like Lysander, before he brought to his lips and inhaled. The smoke was actually pretty smooth at first, but all at once it became overwhelming and he quickly pulled it away from his face, coughing uncontrollably for a moment. He held it out for Lysander to take back as he desperately tried to recover and play it cool even though his lungs felt like they were on fire and his nasal passage was stinging like crazy.

"Loud music and trying to beat someone's high score sound fun." Haro heard Lysander say once his coughing settled and he followed his gaze to the neon signs ahead.

"Sure does," Haro managed in a tight voice between barely restrained coughs. As he found his breath again, he started to notice the effects settle over him like a pleasant haze. He felt a bit lighter and a bit sillier, almost like how the whiskey had felt but clearly and inexplicably different. He huffed a little laugh that was kind of a cough too.

"What is that stuff?" He asked, realizing in hindsight that probably would've been a good question to ask before smoking it, but he was more amused by the thought than concerned. It couldn't be that bad if it felt this good, right?​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Haro Aven ​

The acolyte watched silently as Haro accepted the offering. Beneath the steady gaze, relief settled in his chest. Though he wouldn’t openly show it, he was glad that the boy accepted the offering without hesitation, so there wouldn’t be any awkwardness by puffing away alone. From a few afternoons spent hanging out in the greenhouse, he learned a little about these herbs. Apparently, there were two main types: the first was uplifting, but that one had a way of trapping him in his own thoughts— something he already did enough of during class. The other, however, brought all the relief he desired With training wearing him down and muscles constantly aching like he’d been run over by a Dewback, that one did wonders.

Suddenly, relaxation bloomed through him, feeling lighter, happier even. While there hadn’t been anything troubling him, the effects were all the same. Haro’s words were now floating in his mind, and he found himself appreciating opinions different from his own. Lysander, ever the hopeless romantic lost in stories from HoloDramas and holobooks, knew he needed to find other sources of wisdom.

The response to his initial question sent the mind veering, but then a sharp cough snapped him back to the present, back to the path they walked. Glancing sideways, a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took back the item. “It’s like.. some kind of magical plant that has a way of solving all of life’s little problems, I guess,” he said thoughtfully. A soft chuckle followed. “You don’t have to be Force-sensitive to obtain the powers it can give you either. It even makes the awful Academy food taste amazing. I never thought a bowl of boring noodles could be so satisfying.”

Touching the papers to his lips, he inhaled deeply once more, this time holding the smoke in for several seconds. After an exhale, a small cough slipped. His own lungs were still getting used to this new substance. The other boy's comment almost slipped away, but mentally, he grasped it. For a beat, the blonde's gaze flicked downward to the device. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “I think it’d be much easier if I could actually see her more. I hate that all we can do is talk through the stupid datapad. I wish I could see her laugh.. or smile, instead of always trying to decipher messages through the HoloNet.”

As the arcade came closer into view, music danced in the air. Another hit sent euphoria crashing over him. Lysander knew his limits; apparently, his peers viewed him as a lightweight. But he wasn't about to waste what was left either. Amusement was written all over his face. “What about you?” he asked, tone light. “Bet you got reserves, huh? Like.. one in each of the Holy Worlds. So that would be at least seven.”

With thoughts constantly drifting and his gaze following, it now lifted toward the vast sky above. “And since you're the Captain, you could just fly away whenever they become too annoying.”

Finally, he handed over the last bit of the roll-up to his companion.

 

[Haro Aven]

Lysander von Ascania ​

​

Lysander's whimsical explanation of the substance actually fit the relaxing hazy sensation it created quite well, Haro silently mused to himself, but he was only half listening. Part of him was busy analyzing the effect this so-called magical plant was having on him. The nervous energy and latent anxiety that the teen carried around within him started to slowly unwind, the ever-turning gears of his mind becoming a bit more sluggish.

"Huh, cool..." With a blissful little half-smile, Haro glanced around at the surrounding desert city landscape—people milling about, speeders whizzing by, day time shops beginning to close up while the late night venues started coming to life. The tantalizing smells drifting from the various food vendors and restaurants they passed made him excited to test the alleged taste-enhancing effects after the two of them worked up an appetite.

Lysander's admission pulled Haro's focus back to the conversation. Right about what? Oh, yeah, girls. It soon became clear that his friend was still dwelling on whoever he'd been talking about earlier. Haro studied the other boy's face as he talked about this girl and, for a moment, he thought he could see behind that well-practiced mask of aloof nonchalance and effortless charm—thought he could hear the sad truth to his words. Haro's gaze fell to his feet as he was struck with just how deeply he could relate. What he wouldn't give to be able to send messages back and forth to Niynx Ioune so easily, to see him smile again, to at least know he was alright. His chest ached as it always did when such thoughts bubbled up, but the magical plant blessedly numbed some of it or at least made it feel less painful.

"What about you?" Already working to reconstruct his own mask, Haro looked up to find Lysander looking back at him with loopy amusement and he couldn't help but smile back. "Bet you got reserves, huh? Like... one in each of the Holy Worlds. So that would be at least seven. And since you're the Captain, you could just fly away whenever they become too annoying."

Haro laughed at the ridiculous fantasy Lysander painted him into—like he was some character out of a holodrama with a new love interest every other episode.

"Seven is crazy, bro." He shook his head as accepted the rolled herbs, giving it one last curious look before he brought it to his lips and took another drag. His lungs and throat were still a bit roughed up from that first hit, but the second went down a bit easier and he only coughed a couple times.

"I think I've got enough goin on right here on Korriban to keep me plenty busy." His voice was still a little tight from his lungs adjusting and his eye lids felt heavier. He took in a deep breath of cool dry desert air as carefree bliss rippled through him again, only this time it was more intense. Though it was little more than a roach at this point, Haro passed back the roll-up as they approached the entrance of the arcade.

"Tell me about this girl that's got you so glued to that datapad of yours. What's keeping you from seeing more of each other?"​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Haro Aven
​

The teenage acolyte’s eyelids drooped a bit, just enough to blur some of their surroundings. For a moment, his focus was flickering like a malfunctioning protocol droid--in and out, as the herbal remedy took a firm hold on him. Still, he’d smoked enough in recent weeks to gauge his limits properly; the void wasn't looming. Besides, the effects didn’t entirely weigh him down as one might think; instead, it lent a sense of clarity he wouldn’t otherwise feel, enhancing his concentration in ways the Force could not.

Every little color and sound became richer.

A simple and easy smile kept Lysander’s expression soft. When Haro answered his question, paired with a chuckle, a spark rippled through him, which elicited a genuine laugh that was full of warmth to fill the space between the two boys. “You’re not entirely convincing, my friend,” he teased with a slow shake of his head, “but perhaps there’s a bit of truth in your little tale somewhere. I suppose some secrets are worth guarding.”

Accepting the roach, its weight pressed between his fingers, and he continued to stride forward while absorbing Haro's words, each one an invitation to open the gates of his inner fortress. The weight of all he carried inside was consuming at times; so, he contemplated the possibility of lowering those walls, if only for a moment, to find some much needed relief.

"I guess you could call it an unspoken game between us. One that always has me on my toes, and keeps me sharp. And I like it.. but bro, she's so guarded. It keeps me from feeling vulnerable you could say." Bringing the roll-up to his lips, he inhaled deeply one last time; the acolyte savored the burn sliding down his throat before finally flicking the stub away. The neon glow of the arcade was now before them; he could hear cheering crowds and different gaming machines in the background.

But sometimes.. every now and then, even if only for a second, it feels like she's actually there. More than just the polished image she lets everyone see. And she definitely looks like she belongs on a holoposter. But there's something else about Sibylla that makes it impossible to look away, something I can't quite shake. I never really second-guessed myself until her; I'm usually pretty good at getting what I want."

He caught a few familiar faces from Kor’ethyr Academy and nodded to them. With a deep exhale, he ran a hand through his hair before glancing over to Haro. “Anyway, the truth is, she’s way ahead of me.” Then, a slow inhale, followed by a thoughtful pause. "She’s already chasing something greater. Junior representative, future senator, playing the long game while I’m trying to figure out what my next step is.” Lysander’s tone shifted, a little quieter. “I know our different roads will pull us apart eventually.. but I’m not ready to let go just yet.”

It wasn't self-pity.

Nor jealousy.

Just a fact.

Growing tired of the serious demeanor, he let it slip away before flashing a sly smirk at the non-Force user and playfully nudging him. “But hey," he mused, "that wouldn’t exactly be new for me; the good ones always take off running. And from what I've been hearing at the academy, Dromund Kaas has all the baddies."

He knew, deep down, that he'd never seriously consider it, but clinging to the familiar bravado that served like a shield was simply easier.

Especially now.

Any tension that had been simmering now began to ebb away. “I know we’re here for the games, but damn, now I’m hungry.” His eyes roamed over the entrance, drinking in every intricate detail. “So.. where do you think we should start? Everything looks fun!”

 

[Haro Aven]

I suppose some secrets are worth guarding...

Despite knowing Lysander was just bantering with him, the words hit a bit too close for comfort. Haro's chest tightened, the sudden spike of anxiety at odds with the effects of the herb. That feeling was one of the worst parts of all this—the lingering paranoia of being caught. He had hoped it would get easier over time but the reality was much the opposite. The deeper undercover he was, the higher the stakes became. He glanced cautiously at Lysander, grateful to find that the boy seemed to be in his own world, preoccupied with answering Haro's question. It was just a friendly tease, Haro told himself, nothing more. He found his altered state actually made the thought more convincing. Maybe the stuff really was magic.

Instead of getting too caught up in his own thoughts, he focused on Lysander's explanation of his relationship with this girl. The blonde boy always seemed to have a casual ease to him, a self-assured apathy—especially in the face of consequences—that often got him in trouble. But when he talked about this girl, Haro caught a glimpse of a different side of Lysander von Ascania . The story he wove about this Sibylla was downright poetic, like something out of a Holodrama. So much so that, at first, Haro thought he might be making it up, this tale of his star-crossed lover—the gorgeous junior representative and future senator. Then again, Lysander apparently came from a the kind of story that they wrote those Holodramas about so Haro supposed it could be possible. Regardless, it was a good piece of information to store away for later. Especially because, last he checked, the Sith empire didn't have senators.

"Wow, she sounds amazing. Makes a lotta sense why you wouldn't wanna give that up, even if you are on different paths. Who knows? Maybe your paths will find a way back together someday. The Force works in mysterious ways," Haro quoted in a mockingly ominous tone, gesturing vaguely and wiggling his fingers as if casting spell.

Apparently bored with the current mood of conversation, Lysander shifted into a more playful demeanor. Haro cracked a smile at the nudge, quick to match the more lighthearted vibe, especially considering their environment and their altered state. He laughed and shook his head at the comment about all the "baddies" being on Dromund Kaas.

"Not all the baddies, bro. I've found at least one here on Korriban, and I'm sure we can find you a few too."

The arcade was a welcome shift in atmosphere for the young engineer. The half-lit den known as The Pulse Grid had become a somewhat familiar and favored place to go when he had time to spend and someone to go with. Glowing blue and red neon lights lined the floors and ceiling as beings of all sorts filled the space, mostly of the youthful variety, conversing, laughing, squealing or crying out in frustration, their voices competing with the clatter of tokens and the sound effects of the various games. Haro also spotted some familiar faces, flashing his bright smile that looked a bit more loopy than usual.

The arcade's machines were tailored to their acolyte clientele—combat sims, military strategy trials, and reflex tests—but despite the ominous content, the place buzzed with a playful spirit. Acolytes crowded around a favorite game called Force Volley, where players hurled simulated debris at each other with wild gesticulations, ducking and dodging behind neon shields. Near the center of the room, a game called Crush the Jedi! drew constant attention—a cooperative tower defense sim where players commanded squads of Sith troopers against waves of stylized, cartoonish Jedi attackers. Others still crowded around the Blaster Run cabinet, a game that trained reflexes against simulated Galactic Alliance troops, battle droids, and the odd Krayt dragon. The holo-adverts for candy-sticks, vintage energy drinks and deep fried treats over the snack bar on the far side drew Haro's attention and he was reminded once again how hungry he was.

"I know we're here for the games, but damn, now I'm hungry."
"Dude, saaame. We should definitely get a bite to eat after a few games!"
"So... where do you think we should start? Everything looks fun!"

Truer words could not have been spoken, but Haro still gravitated to his favorite game first—Red Pilot Protocol. The booth was rigged with two sets of neuro-links that promised an immersive dogfight simulation of rival aces competing across debris-strewn battlefields.

"Ever tried this one before?" Haro asked enthusiastically, practically bounding over to the machine. "It's super fun! And it's actually pretty realistic too, the way it simulates G-forces and cockpit stress. Oh! And there are all kinds of missions you can do, like stealth missions and guard missions and all out dogfights." Then he paused in his excited rambling as if belatedly realizing something.

"Oh right, we need tokens." He laughed a bit at his own lapse in memory. Everything just felt so silly.​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Haro Aven
​

Glancing sideways at Haro, an effortless smirk tugged at Lysander’s lips, drawn by the other boy’s sudden enthusiasm. The arcade’s lights flashed different hues across his face, and for a moment, the room felt more like a dream state than anything else. His gaze flickered to the Crush a Jedi game. His head tilted, curiosity piqued, wondering just how realistic it might actually be. Aware and honest of his own skill, he figured that on any difficulty setting, it probably wouldn’t prove to be much of a challenge. Besides, stories of Sith apprentices laying waste to Jedi Knights without breaking a sweat weren’t entirely uncommon in the halls of the academy, and having traveled from the Core Worlds to the Outer Rim, he knew they carried weight. The Light clung to false idealisms, while the disciplined ruthlessness of his kind understood reality as it were.

He had to admit, the arcade style violence of Sith troopers obliterating those of the Light Side was still satisfying to witness.

A soft chuckle left the blonde when the Red Pilot Protocol was mentioned. Of course he would pick the flight sim. It was possibly the closest thing Lysander had come to with actual spaceflight, the furthest thing from his own domain. Such knowledge had always felt withheld from him, and now he was buried under the weight of pursuing other disciplines. And right now? The teen felt like he was already strapped into the cockpit of life’s ride, spiritually ascending across the galaxy.

Then, a switch flipped, and he blinked his way out of the emotional dialogue echoing in his mind. Returning to the now, he offered a subtle nod. “Oh, right. Tokens. Duh.” Lazily scanning the area, he brushed back several strands of hair. “I got it,” he added, turning to retrieve them. “I think the tokens are by the snack–” He coughed, voice faltering, caught mid word as his attention landed elsewhere; it was not on the snack bar, but instead on a young Pantoran standing just a few paces away. The purple hair would've been automatically registered as a red flag had it been a human—but she wasn't, and she wore it naturally in a way that was kind of cool. Bathed in a pink glow from one of the nearby games, her warm smile held his gaze, and the fizzling drink in her hand looked equally tempting—especially with his mouth being so dry. "..bar. Snack bar."

Back to the task at hand, Lysander weaved through the crowds, gathering a large cup full of tokens before returning to Haro, setting them down on the console. “What if this whole game is like.. some kind of recruitment tool for a secret special starfighter unit? You know? If you score high enough, maybe they'll show up during class and throw a helmet at you or something. Broo.. that’d be so crazy.”

As he slid into the machine's cockpit, it felt more like a beanbag chair—almost too comfortable. He pulled the headset down next, completely crooked. “Also, do not let me open the comms, bro. I might start monologuing.”

With a pause, the acolyte began squinting at all the glowing buttons around him, pretending to understand their functions. It probably wasn't much different than guessing his way through final exams. A thumbs up that was way too slow was then given.

Somewhere in the mix of his thoughts, he could recall scenes from a few HoloDramas. Pilots facing ridiculous odds, explosions all around their starship, tears rolling down some girl's cheek.

It all made sense now.

He nodded sagely to his own reflection on the screen.

“Uhh.. all systems go.. and emotionally unprepared. Let’s fly, Captain.”

​