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Daisy zips up the trail toward home, grateful for how much faster the speeder is when it's not laden with supplies. Today, the only things weighing it down are her, the human passed out over the handlebars, and the unresponsive and immobile battle droid lashed carefully but inelegantly to the storage area.
Up ahead, there's a flash of red light. There's really only one thing that can be, this time of the morning.
The moment of falling is incredible.
The sudden grip of the telekinesis might be even better.
He grins at her when he lands.
"You caught me!"
"I did say I don't want to bring you back unconscious," she giggles, and ruffles his hair. "Silly."
"Yeah. Well. Still."
He rubs his head up against her hand.
"Are they all this good?"
And on they go. She slows to a stop in front of the next piece: A sheet of iron, fractured into pieces and arranged to capture the first moment of exploding outward, on a backdrop of stone with rust stains dripping bloodily down it.
He hops off again and walks slowly around it, looking from every angle he can.
Dusk stays on the speeder, leaning on the handlebars as she watches him take it in.
"It's, uh..."
He looks for the right word, doesn't find it, and gives up.
"Pretty relatable."
"Yeah." She turns off the speeder and dismounts to give him a hug.
"That's a pretty lousy way to feel, and -" she gestures at the art- "'s kind of a self portrait, y'know? So I know how it is."
"...that makes sense. Thanks. It's still weird for somebody to respond to that stuff like I'm being serious."
She kisses his forehead and heads toward the speeder. "Let's go see something cool."
She passes a statue - a twist of dark metal, claws, and fangs, glittering menacingly in the moonlight - and stops at something that doesn't seem to be artwork at all: a large metal frame, a few stories tall, studded with various bits and pieces with unclear purposes. She scoops him off the speeder again and settles the two of them on a stone bench across from it. "So, I don't know how much you know about Sith, but there's a thing where - we have what we can defend. It's not very nice but it makes things very simple, in some ways; if you want things to be different you know exactly what you need to do to make that happen. Understand?"
She nods, too. "So my master - well, tried to kill me and keep the corpse, more or less." A sharp note comes into her tone. "And here's what I did about that."
She stands and strides over to the structure, pausing to retrieve a red-painted rod that she holds like a lightsaber and to turn on the floodlights that light the lowest section. Then she stalks into it, assuming a dull, feral, crouched stance as she does.
The bits on the frame come to life as she approaches them, swaying in mimicry of robes; she follows the robed figure farther into the structure, inattentive to her surroundings, saber held slack.
Then, suddenly, she darts forward to attack, and the sketched figure retaliates with a bolt of lightning; she brings the saber up to parry, and the figure jumps back, startled, and leaps away, up into the second level of the structure.
He wants to follow her up but he's too transfixed by the display to move.
(It's like seeing her really fight. It's beautiful.)
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