Author’s Note: This is a story set in the Star Wars legends (expanded universe). It’s a story I’ve wanted to write for a VERY long time, yet never got around to. Now that I’ve gotten around to the first chapter of the first episode, I realize that it probably should have stayed in my head until the day I died. This seemed like a MUCH better idea before it was transcribed. I actually have no idea who this story even appeals to, as it’s got a lot of stuff in it that doesn’t even appeal to me and I’m writing the thing!
If I ever get around to writing all 10 chapters of Episode 1 (and that is a very big if) then this story will have way too many different fetishes to conveniently list all at once. As for this first chapter, it includes (spoilers ahead skip to next paragraph if you want to be surprised): decap, necro, non-con, and some minor cutting and burning.
Also, as an aside, I’d like to point out that I am fully are of the fact that the premise of my main characters is extremely similar to the recently released game Jedi: Fallen Order. This is completely coincidental. The general idea for this story came about a very long time ago (you might be able to guess when I first got this idea based on the planet I chose to start the story on) and I didn’t even know of Jedi: Fallen Order’s existence until 3 weeks ago, after I had already finished the outline of Episode 1 and started drafting chapter 1. Believe me, the obvious similarities almost made me rage quit and throw the idea away forever, but then I thought “Fuck it, Star Wars already rips off Star Wars. Who cares if it looks like I do it?”
Anyway, Chapter 1: The Sword in the Scrap
“I sense,” the young woman paused, her goggle covered eyes squeezed shut as her outstretched arm strained against empty air. “this way!” She swung her arm about in a quarter circle and pointed to a heap of recently dumped starfighter skeletons, the light gray mass standing out like a bullseye against a backdrop of brown, yellow, and yellow-brown. “Yes, something of great value is buried beneath those wrecks.”
“So, scavenge the wrecks that haven’t been scavenged yet, yeah? Such insight The Force offers you!” The hulking reptilian humanoid replied, extending the fingers of his right hand while vibrating the same wrist dramatically.
“Humor is often borne of fear, and fear of the unknown is a natural response when faced with powers such as mine.” The woman responded, narrowing her eyes while the lizard man rolled his. “Tell me if your doubt persists, once we find…” she shut her big brown eyes and screwed her face into a tight knot, her wide set eyes and small puffy lips threatening to collapse in on her bulbous button nose with the effort. “…artifacts of the Jedi Order! Yes, The Force is certain. We are sure to find the belongings of Jedi within!”
“You mean, in those Jedi starfighters?” He asked, pointing to the unmistakable diamond shaped hulls of the Delta-6 Sprite class ships piled on top of the less impressive Torrent fighters and a half crushed LAAT. “Impossible!” He said, sarcasm dripping from the thin ridge that technically qualified as lips and pooling inside his oxygen mask thickly enough to threaten the flow of breathable air. Pushing the repulsorlift cart he had to share with this lunatic up to the base of the mound and pulling the brake lever to keep it locked in place, the scaly figure peered over his wide shoulders and asked “So, Jedi Master Jed, do you need time to meditate, or could you assist me in my noble quest to plunder your dead friends’ stuff to pay our water bill?”
Jed sighed deeply into her oxygen mask, the breath filled with too many conflicting feelings and overlapping sentiments for either of them to decipher its exact meaning. “You can deal with the scrap, Cabe. I’ll be on guff duty.” She said, pulling up her hood, stuffing the ends of her sleeves beneath her thickly padded shock-proof gloves, and tucking her robe down her thick cargo pants. She couldn’t afford to have her bathrobe catch on anything; it was already more stitches than fabric.
“Why am I always on scrap duty?” Cabe complained, removing his sweat stained overcoat and picking up the vibro-saw and coolant spray even as he spoke.
“Because you can lift half a ton?” Jed said, clambering up the hill of ship skeletons to start poking around for any valuable electronics, nick-knacks, or trinkets the Imperial inspectors may have missed before dumping the skeletons on Raxus Prime.
Cabe shook his head as he sawed through one of the of the LAAT’s thicker beams, applying coolant in the wake of his cuts so that he could quickly and safely load them onto their lift. Picking up a freshly cut 500lb hunk of military grade scrap metal and hauling it over to their cart with some grunts of effort but few visible signs of strain, Cabe asked “Well, how much can you lift with the Force? I heard some Jedi could pull ships clean out of orbit. Makes lifting half a ton seem like child’s play.”
“That’s just a myth! No Jedi’s THAT powerful.” Jed replied, leaning into the cockpit of one of the Sprites and peering around.
“So, how much CAN you lift then?” Cabe repeated.
“Well, it’s difficult to say.” Jed said, reaching into a hollowed out instrument panel for any wire scraps that may have fallen out when the controls were being removed. “I can only draw on a finite supply of the Force’s energy at any given time, and once I use up that supply I have to wait for it to recharge over time. Like a battery. I believe that well trained Jedi can recharge their Force battery quicker, and even learn to charge it while they’re using it. Since I haven’t had a master to teach me, I can’t do that. And since I use the better part of my Force looking for the best places to scavenge whenever we go out, I don’t have much left in me to lift stuff.” She explained,
“That doesn’t even-” Cabe started, and probably would’ve continued with “answer my question!” had he not realized the futility of the conversation. “Whatever.” He instead finished, lopping off and cooling another slab of scrap and tossing it onto their cart.
Cabe continued to cut wordlessly, though the conversation he’d been having carried on inside his head. In there, he argued against the imaginary version of Jedha Kraz who could see reason, understand logic, and be persuaded by evidence that she had no connection to the force, would never be a Jedi or rebuild the Jedi Order, and was destined to rot on the garbage dump of the Outer Rim, Raxus Prime, until the day she died. It was fun arguing against that Jedha, though the thoughts quickly became depressing once the implications of victory were realized. No, for all Cabe’s outward exasperation, Jed’s particular brand of unflappable insanity was the reason Cabe liked her. Her insanity gave her limitless reserves of hope, a precious commodity on a literal trash planet. It was adroable, like a stupid pet getting bamboozled by a pane of glass.
Cabe wasn’t expecting to hear “AAAAIE-EEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEE-HEE-HEE!” right then, and as such his jump of alarm, girlish squeak, and the flaring of the needle-like spines running from the top of his head down to the small of his back were justifiable reactions. Turning to the source of the cackling scream, Cabe saw Jed erupting through the empty frame of one of the Sprite’s cockpits. Even with her face buried beneath an oxygen mask, tinted goggles, and a hood, Cabe could tell from the way her body was literally shaking with excitement that she was wearing the widest smile of her life. “I TOLD YOU!” She shouted down at her friend, waving an arm wildly above her head. “I TOLD YOU WE’D FIND JEDI ARTIFACTS! THE FORCE GUIDED ME!”
“What are you yapping about?” Cabe asked, squinting as he tried to discern the small glinting object gripped tightly in Jed’s waving hand. “What is it?”
Jed didn’t respond. She stopped waving and drew the object close to her chest, looking it over in search of something. She found what she was looking for, and after checking one of the narrow ends of the thing to make sure it was facing the right way, Jed held the object out and activated it, answering her friend’s question.
“You’re kidding.” Cabe said, removing his goggles on the slim chance that the light was just hitting them a weird way and making him THINK he saw what he knew he saw. After repeatedly blinking his bared, dull yellow eyes, he was forced to accepted the impossible. Jed had found a lightsaber.
“What’s that?” Jed asked, dramatically swishing the emerald green energy blade through the air and “Hmm?”-ing in time with its humming. Mimicking her reptilian friend’s high pitched gravely voice, Jed said “I’m sorry, Jed. You really are Force sensitive, Jed. From now on I will only refer to you as Master Jed unironically.”
“Be careful with that thing!” Came Cabe’s actual response, flinching as Jed tripped climbing out of the cockpit and slapped the blade the Sprite’s structure with a sharp hiss of instantly superheated metal. Jed half obeyed her friend’s advice, climbing down slowly but refusing to turn the lightsaber off or let it go. As Jed maneuvered her way down the unsecured pile of trip hazards and clothing catchers, Cabe recovered enough of his senses to ask “Where did you find that? How did you find that so fast? Was it hidden somewhere?”
“No, it was in the glove compartment.” Jed replied, Cabe’s light green skin visibly paling. “It wasn’t even locked or anything. I think it’s pretty obvious that the Force wanted me to have this!”
“It’s obvious that some halfwit Imperial engineer needs to be court-martialed and summarily executed for negligence!” Cabe corrected, rubbing the rough ridge that would’ve formed his brow, had he had brows. “How do you forget to check the glove compartment when stripping down a ship for dumping? That is, literally, the first place any sane person checks!” Cabe shook his head, then with renewed frustration demanded “AND WHAT JEDI LEAVES THEIR LIGHTSABER IN THE GLOVE COMPARTMENT?!”
“I think it’s a spare.” Jed said, hopping off the pile with the still burning lightsaber and landing too close to her companion for his comfort. “Look, it’s got no personal touches. No name, no symbols, no customization, and the grip’s just a lump of soft plastic. My parents told me that every Jedi had to build their own lightsaber, and that it was supposed to be a reflection of their spirit. Whoever owned this ship probably carried their actual personalized lightsaber with them, and this was just a backup in case of emergencies.”
“Or you got Master Accountant’s lightsaber.” Cabe said, taking another step back as Jed continued to swish and flick the tip of the weapon around. “Seriously, Jedha, turn that thing off before you hurt me! Or yourself!”
“You know, Cabe, before today, you were technically right about me. I could CALL myself Jedi, but truthfully, I was nothing more than a youngling.” She explained, admiring the emerald blade as though it were actually made of such shimmering gemstones. “It wasn’t until a younlgling constructed their lightsaber that they officially became Padawans, and were recognized as Jedi. With this weapon, I am OFFICIALLY a Jedi.” She said, ignoring or neglecting the fact that she hadn’t constructed the blade she was currently twirling in a figure 8, so even if her hazy recollection of third-hand Jedi customs were correct she didn’t meet the criteria she set. “As a TRUE Jedi, the Force guides my blade.” Cabe hopped back with a yelp as the blade was unintentionally swung in his direction. “It is an extension of my being, like a part of my arm that’s always been there but until now could never be seen.” She swung the weapon back and forth like a bat, before standing in what could best be described as a child’s interpretation of a defensive stance. “So long as I trust my instincts, this blade will obey my every whim.” She turned her hips while slashing diagonally downward, carving a sizzling line of molten metal into the ground of Raxus Prime and completely unaware of just how close she’d come to cutting her left foot in half. “With this weapon, I am one step closer to fulfilling my destiny.” She turned and slashed again, not even hearing Cabe’s continued pleas for her to calm down, turn off the incredibly dangerous and illegal murder weapon, and just listen to him for five seconds. “With this weapon, I am one step closer to becoming the Jedi destined to rebuild my Order, topple the Empire that tried to destroy it, and restore justice to a galaxy ruled by tyranny!” She stepped back, posing heroically with her weapon held high. “With this weaAAAAAH!”
Jed jumped up and down on one foot, howling and flapping both arms wildly as she did. The Force may or may not have guided her blade, but it certainly hadn’t guided her feet. While posing, her left boot had planted itself firmly onto the swath of molten metal she had accidentally carved into the ground, its heavy duty rubber alloy sole bubbling out from under her as she spoke. By the time she realized just how hot her foot was getting, her boot had caught fire.
Holding the lightsaber, trying to remove her flaming boot, and trying to pat down the flames threatening to ignite her pants, proved too much for two hands, and Jed had to abandon one of those tasks. Luckily, for her own sake, some before unused survival instinct kicked in and she dropped the lightsaber before attempting either of the tasks which required her to grab parts of herself. Falling backwards and landing hard on a flat piece of cargo crate, Jed managed to launch her smoldering boot from her foot and arrest the flames licking her pants and robe. A brief moment of calm passed, adrenaline still in full control of her body, then the pain struck.
Jed could feel bits of molten rubber clinging to the flesh of her sole like hot squishy shards of broken glass. While the ankle and even the sides of the foot seemed to have come out unscathed, the boot’s insulation protecting her skin just long enough for her to extricate herself from the flames, she could already feel blisters bubbling up on her sole. Daring to prop her foot up on her knee to inspect the damage, Jed hissed at the sight of the bright red underside of her before pale white foot, the dark black specks of rubber fused to her skin, and the fat blisters bubbling up and threatening to burst.
“AH!” She yelped, touching her burned skin on some primal reflex and immediately regretting doing so. “Alright, so PERHAPS I should have concentrated less on the guidance of the Force and more on my surroundings. BUT, that doesn’t change any of what I said.” She explained, trying to deflect Cabe’s raucous laughter and sarcastic jibes.
Only, he wasn’t laughing. Nor were there jibes that required countering. In fact, all Jed could hear was the sizzling crackle of her nearly burned out boot and the continuous low rumble of trash being dumped in the distance that residents of Raxus Prime had either learned to tune out or learned an expedient method of suicide. Not even the lightsaber could be heard, the weapon somehow turning itself off mid-drop before landing in a heap of yellow-brown junk a few feet from Jed’s foot. “Cabe?” She asked, looking up. “CABE!” She screamed, finding him.
The majority of Cabe had fallen on its back, muscles writhing and twitching involuntarily as its central nervous system struggled to figure out why it was no longer receiving any input from its center of command. A small portion of Cabe was lying a few feet away half buried in debris, a smoldering black stump of freshly lightsabered flesh pointing directly at Jed like a parent pointing an accusatory finger at a naughty child. Jed clapped a hand over her open mouth, scared that she would either scream or puke at the sight. In her panicked arm flapping Jed had decapitated her best, and debatably only, friend.
She took one running step toward Cabe, was suddenly reminded that she was running across a field of rusted metal and jagged scrap with a bare foot covered in first and second degree burns on its sole, and collapsed into a screaming heap as blood gushed from a foot that was now both blistered and lacerated. She clutched the mangled foot and felt hot and unsettlingly sticky blood seep into the thick padding of her gloves, her cries continuing as she squeezed tightly to staunch the flow. When Jed recovered enough of her wits to make deliberate movements and had determined that she probably wouldn’t bleed out in the immediate future, she pulled herself up to one knee and both hands, one hand leaving a red imprint on the scrap beneath her as she steadied herself, and began half hopping and half crawling her way toward her friend’s pieces. At some point during her crawl she must have decided to go for Cabe’s head as opposed to his body, though when or why that decision was made was a mystery even to Jed herself. All she knew was that after crossing the longest 4 meters to ever exist, she found herself turning her dead friend’s head around to face her.
Or, rather, she should have turned her dead friend’s head around to face her. Instead, she was perplexed to turn her still very living friend’s head around to face her, Cabe’s dull yellow eyes staring intentionally into hers as his mouth flapped vigorously enough to shake off his now useless oxygen mask. While he could produce no audible words in his current condition, the ridge that technically constituted his lips positioned itself clearly enough for Jed to tell that Cabe was swearing up a storm, both in Galactic Basic and in his native Londarr.
“LONDARR!” Jed jubilantly cried, squeezing her friend’s surprisingly heavy head to her heaving chest as tears threatened to flood her goggles. Hope filled the buxom that Cabe’s face was buried in as Jed remembered some important trivia about Cabe’s species, the Londarr. Londarr regularly engaged in sexual cannibalism while mating, female Londarr using their sharper and longer talons to tear the male’s head off and consuming it for energy while violently mating with their body. Once satisfied that her eggs were fertilized, the female would dig a shallow pit, lay her eggs in said pit, and cover it with the male’s body. The body not only kept the eggs warm, but also provided the infants their first meal once they hatched, the babies consuming their father’s body just as the mother consumed his head. Because of this (or the other way around), the bodies of male Londarr had evolved to survive for an extended period after decapitation. They had an extremely advanced system of hormones, muscle reflexes, twitch responses, energy storage, and an acute sense of touch that, once the body detected that it had been beheaded, would kick in and allow it to survive for several galactic days. While a Londarr male’s head didn’t need to survive nearly as long, the hardiest and most lively males were the ones that attracted the most fertile females, and as such their heads could still last significantly longer than a human’s head could. One standard hour was the commonly cited galactic record, and that was with a massive drop in blood pressure from getting their head violently torn off. With the lightsaber’s clean and cauterized, Cabe’s head had the potential to not only set a new record, but survive long enough for Jed to get him life saving medical attention. That was Jed’s hope, anyway.
Jed noticed that Cabe had stopped silently yelling at her. Then she noticed that he was no longer looking at her, but over her right shoulder. Then, she noticed a shadow looming over her. Finally, Jed re-remembered why male Londarr had evolved to (temporarily) survive decapitation. It was part of their mating.
Jed yelped and scrambled away as Cabe’s body stood to its full height and spasmed violently, with limbs flailing, spines flaring, and an unsettlingly large tent pitching in its pants as the body disentangled itself from Cabe’s outfit. The clothes, designed to survive heavy duty work on a planet that was 90% sharp objects, was no match for the body’s animal instincts. Within seconds the spines running up Cabe’s spine tore through the back of his tanktop and sent the shirt fluttering down in front of him, and with short claws shredding his belt and a literally inhumanly hard erection that only a specially evolved ‘I will die having sex’ reflex could achieve, the middle of Cabe’s pants were soon jettisoned from his flesh, leaving dull ribbons of cloth streaming out of the body’s ankle high boots. It was certainly a sight to behold, a headless yet still six foot tall mountain of bared and extremely tensed muscle twitching unnaturally in the dull light of a muggy Raxus Prime morning. Every muscle was fully alert, from the abbreviated neck stump that twitched and shuddered as the body closed off its veins to avoid bloodloss, to the unfurled fingers with their short black claws waiting to pin down a mate, to the dark green spines standing just as erectly as the engorged and alarmingly pink cock jutting from the body’s crotch, to the thick thighs and calves that would propel this seed delivery monster onto its target.
Jed, however, had little time for beholding. Tucking Cabe’s equally terrified head into the crook of her arm, she crawled as fast as one good foot and one unencumbered hand could carry her, desperately trying to reach the repulsorlift cart. While Jed and Cabe couldn’t afford a cart with a functional propulsion system, if she could just unlock the cart and push herself along with her good foot she should be able to move fast enough to escape the body. Then, she’d just have to wait out its sex drive, collect it and her lightsaber once the body was dormant, and get then Cabe to a doctor. That was her plan. Unfortunately, her attempts at haste may have made things worse. Cabe’s body had only its sense of touch to guide it, and the vibrations of Jed’s panic driven movement through the shifting scrap made her an easily tracked target. The body turned in place with a sloppy, stumbling shuffle, then fell into a crouch and launched itself at Jed with a terrifyingly precise pounce. Jed had just managed to pull her upper body up and onto the cart, and was reaching for the brake release lever when the massive pile of hormone driven muscle landed right on top of her, its clawed hands wrapping around her shoulders with enough strength to threaten the structural integrity of her collarbones and slamming her chest down hard enough for Jed’s head to bounce off the cold metal bed. Raxus Prime momentarily disappeared behind a sea of stars and the blackness of space, and the only noise in existence was the slow reverberations of a large gong.
Jed very quickly returned to Raxus Prime when she felt a sharp set of claws tear straight through her clothes into the small of her back, then carve their way down her left butt cheek, pulling her pants down and rending the robe tucked into them. Jed cried out and reflexively twisted her waist away from the body’s claws, but with so much muscle pushing her down she could do nothing more than rub her face against the lift as her pants were dropped to her ankles and her robe was thrown up and over her back. Raxus Prime was a warm and muggy planet, yet Jed shuddered like her freshly scarred butt had just been dunked into a tub of ice water as it was exposed to the open air. The body didn’t seem to notice or care that Jed was a dirty, slightly doughy, very pale human that it literally could not impregnate or that she had cut its head off entirely by accident and wasn’t coming onto it. It no longer had an intelligence capable of understanding those nuances. It was programmed to do nothing more than find and fill a warm hole, and it had finished the first half.
The body loosened its grip on Jed as it repositioned for a more firm hold, and in that split second of reduced pressure Jed released a desperate cry and put all of her strength into one final lunge for the cart’s brake lever. The tip of Jed’s finger managed to graze the lever’s handle before both shoulders found themselves pinned to the bed of the cart by a weighty pair of roughly scaled hands. Sharp claws pressed firmly into her flesh, not hard enough to draw blood but so nearly there that any movement on Jed’s part threatened a puncture. She was stuck, and as she felt the bizarrely shaped tip of an alien organ grazed up the back of her thighs and across her folds in search of an opening, all Jed could do was bar her teeth and squeeze her eyes shut.
Jed had been mugged a few months back, and during said mugging she’d been shivved in the gut with a rusty screwdriver. Surprisingly, getting stabbed didn’t hurt right away. She didn’t consciously register what had happened until two seconds later, when the makeshift weapon was twisted and yanked out with a high pressure squirt of blood. That was when the pain hit, but those two seconds allowed her subconscious to brace itself. When the pain hit, she simply dropped to her knees with a low groan and clutched her perforated stomach, a far more subdued display than most would expect of a stab victim. For whatever reason, Cabe’s cock did not afford her those luxurious seconds of pain free shock that the screwdriver had, and as such her response to this impalement was not nearly as subdued.
“AAAAAAAAOOOOOH-OW-OW!” Jed screamed, her legs thrashing uselessly behind her as the engorged reptilian member was forced down to its base on first entry and was immediately pulled back and thrust again before Jed could even finish screaming at the first thrust. The corners of her vision saw the return of stars and black space, though she couldn’t tell if the gong was ringing as her own screams drowned out all noise. If there were any scavengers or bandits in a mile radius they’d be here soon enough to see what the commotion was and pilfer anything of value off the corpse of whatever poor animal was being mauled. In a brief flash of lucidity between the terribly powerful thrusts of the headless rapist, she wondered whether it would be better if she kept screaming. Even the lowliest of lowlife thieves would have to take pity on poor little Jed, they’d at least shoot the deranged humping monster off of her before robbing her at the same gunpoint. It’s not like she had anything of value to-
Jed twisted her head back and craned her neck as far over her shoulder as she could manage with two sets of razor sharp claws threatening to give her ten brand new orifices to scream about if she tried to get up. While her point of view rocked back and forth with each agonizing thrust, at certain angles she could just barely see the tip of the handle of her newest and most prized possession. Jed clenched her teeth and caught her next cry in the back of her throat, choking it down like a particularly pointy rock. She couldn’t have anyone coming to investigate this site, not until she and the lightsaber were long gone. She would have to escape, or endure.
With her cervix getting beaten to hell and back by an unthinking unfeeling sex machine that couldn’t be bargained with or reasoned with, and with her vaginal walls getting a sample of what childbirth would probably feel like, escape was obviously Jed’s first choice. Wincing, Jed slowly inched her right arm in a wide arc across the surface of the cart, moving as gently as possible over the beams Cabe had cut and syncing her movements with the apex of each thrust to minimize the chance of the body realizing that she was moving and tearing her arm off in retaliation. Eventually, around the time her ass had gone numb from the pounding and was wondering whether that was the body’s precum or her own blood that was beginning to lubricate the raw walls of her womanhood, Jed managed to get her arm down to her side. Under normal circumstances, Jed would now be in reach of her blaster, a small but powerful PN-m3 that could easily blow the headless body away (along with a meaty chunk of her own rump if she wasn’t careful). Unfortunately, with her weapon still in its holster and her holster still attached to a frayed scrap of belt lying somewhere around her spasmodically twitching feet, that option was off the table.
What wasn’t off the table, however, was Jed’s Jedi weapon slowly bobbing in and out of view as her hips were tossed up and slammed against the lip of the cart. Knowing where the weapon was, knowing where to direct the force, Jed could summon the weapon to her. She knew she could. She just had to trust in the Force and call on it. Jed closed her eyes, extended her fingers, and beckoned the weapon to return to her. She’d do her best not to completely destroy Cabe’s body. She was sure he’d want it back. She’d start by cutting off its arms and try to wriggle out from under the pumping mass of muscle. If its core strength proved too much for her she’d cut his legs off. She could definitely overpower a limbless torso. Cabe wouldn’t be too happy about her hacking his body up even further, but Jed was confident in their town’s doctor. She knew that Cabe could be put back together. Probably. She’d cross that bridge when it came. Cabe’s dissatisfaction was becoming more and more irrelevant in direct relation to her own vagnial distress. Everything below her hips was now either completely numb or burned like it was on fire, and Jed literally had been on fire today. If she wanted to save Cabe, fulfill her Jedi quest, and ever feel anything in her pelvis ever again, she had to clear her mind and focus singularly on the lightsaber. She had to focus.
OW OW OW!
FREAKING HELL THIS HURTS SO BAD!
“Ngh!- uoh-ho-hooooo.” Jed let out a stifled whimper as the lightsaber refused to acknowledge Jed’s efforts. It remained exactly where it was, not even twitching as Jed focused as much as she could on the weapon. Not that she could do much focusing, what with the increasingly intense pounding she was receiving from the increasingly aroused corpse. No one could concentrate under these conditions. Yes, that must be it. The Force wasn’t ignoring her, it couldn’t hear her.
OW OW OW OW!
With escape provably impossible, enduring was the only option left. Surely the body must be nearing orgasm. Its hips were thrusting at a blazing pace, and the pressure placed on Jed’s shoulders was growing increasingly severe. Jed turned her head down and attempted to bury her face in the metal. “NGH!” It couldn’t be much longer, she could make it. “UNHF!” This wasn’t a big deal. It hurt like hell, but it wasn’t a big deal. “RGNH!” She wasn’t being raped, this was an inanimate object made out of her friend’s corpse. A person could be raped WITH an inanimate object, but not BY one. “CHK!” She wasn’t biologically compatible, she couldn’t get pregnant. “KCK!” She was going to save Cabe, find a Jedi master, become the most powerful Jedi ever, defeat the empire, probably find her long lost sister along the way somehow and get rich and famous and none of this would ever come up again and how and why was this brainless hunk of reptile dung not done yet?!
The body’s pace picked up, and with a whimper ten small pools of blood emerged from her shoulders and began soaking into her bathrobe. The reptilian’s talons had broken skin. Jed knew that the body wasn’t trying to tear her apart. Not only because it had no consciousness at all and was technically incapable of ‘trying’ to do anything, but because Cabe’s species wouldn’t survive if both partners were killed in coitus. But Jed wasn’t a 6’2”, 260lb female Londarr in heat, she was a 5’6” 150lb human and she wasn’t built for this. Jed pressed her forehead into the cart as hard as she could, pulling in each shallow breath with great effort. If only she could reach the oxygen tank on her back, at least then she could give the whole breathing thing a fighting chance.
It quickened, and Jed grunted every curse she could think of.
It quickened, and Jed invented new curses with each thrust.
It quickened, and Jed choked on detached syllables.
It quickened, and Jed gurgled.
Jed felt chunks of the condensed protein bar she’d had for breakfast fire into the back of her throat like the pellets of a leadchucker as she was crushed into the surface of the cart, the talons grazing the muscles beneath her skin as the grip suddenly tightened. The Londarr’s cock slammed into her guts with finality before releasing a payload that, had Jed any ability to sense anything other than immense pain, she would have found unnervingly (and more to the point, inhumanly) grainy and thick. Despite these qualities, since all available space inside Jed was already occupied, the majority of the porridge-like substance found itself squeezing past the very cock that had delivered it and spraying back out onto the body’s lap with a sound that could best be described as “PPFffft-PLAP”. That “PPFffft-PLAP” repeated half a dozen times as the reptilian’s body pulsed out every drop of semi-liquid it could manage in its final act of self driven movement. Either between the second and third or the third and forth pulse, it was difficult for Jed to keep track while she was choking down her breakfast fragments and trying not to move her shoulders for fear of severing something on Cabe’s claws, a new and almost equally discomforting liquid hit her back. The body’s spiked blood pressuregre too great to be contained by the arteries’ naturally evolved shutoff systems and the unnatural layer of charred meat left by Jed’s lightsaber swipe. Geysers of blood erupted from the body’s neck stump, some firing several feet straight into the air in long thin lines and some spraying in sloppy cones of gore, but all of them drenching the shoulders of Cabe’s body and the back of Jed’s robes. As stray strands of blood dank through her short cut brown hair, Jed wondered why Londarr seed had to feel so alien while their blood got to feel so terribly human. She did her best to limit her shuddering as she grit her teeth through the final seconds of her torture. With one last sputter the body had finally completed its duty, and its breeding hormones subsided. The body was given permission to lie down and await consumption, completely oblivious to the fact that no consumption was coming as none of Cabe’s seed could fertilize any of Jed’s eggs.
“Y-AAAH!” Jed yelped, gravity yanking out the body’s talon’s and cock as it pulled the body to the ground. Jed heard a heavy clatter behind her, followed by the dull and continuous clatter of the planet. She remained motionless for a long time, her breathing weak and inaudible over the white noise of Raxus Prime. Pain immobilized her just as effectively as 300 and something pounds of humping alien, her body refusing to do anything more strenuous than twitch as Jed commanded its pieces to move. She didn’t know that a person could feel this terrible without being dead or horribly mutilated, and she didn’t know if she wasn’t among those groups. She concentrated, and between the waves of pain that washed over her with every heartbeat, she could feel the greasy and deflated walls of her devastated womanhood. If she were internally bleeding, she couldn’t feel it for the coating of alien seed that, she swore, she could feel moving inside her. Everything was throbbing equally, so either she’d been hollowed out and was seconds from death or she had survived with no permanent injuries. Other than her butt which was definitely bruised and had had one cheek clawed, her shoulders which had been pierced in ten places, her foot which oh yeah that still hurt like crazy, and her psyche which didn’t need any more damage than it already had.
As the seconds turned to minutes, and as each breath failed to be her last, Jed slowly realized that she had indeed survived. “ha ha.” She huffed, a faint smile creeping into the corners of her lips. “easy peasy.” She mumbled, far too quiet for Cabe to hear. Assuming he was still alive.
“Cabe!” Jed attempted to shout, though in her weakened state it was only as loud as her regular speaking voice. Remembering that the friend she had decapitated was running on borrowed time gave Jed’s body a sudden rush of energy. Jed jolted half upright, leaning on both elbows as her booted foot tried to plant itself firmly and her unbooted foot did its best not to get in the way. She tried and failed to push herself into a standing position twice, the muscles in her leg burning with each attempt and her knee refusing to stay in one place. Closing her eyes and concentrating on her slowly dying and/or currently dead friend, Jed willed herself into an approximation of standing, leaning heavily against the cart and feeling her new shoulder holes stretch and groan in the process. These fresh spikes of pain cut through some of her malaise, forcing adrenaline into Jed’s bloodstream. Her body steadied, and the world cleared up slightly. She had to move.
Hoisting herself onto the cart, Jed winced as weight rested on her lacerated ass. She pulled her pants up to her knees, and picked up an unidentifiable shred of Cabe’s clothes. She shuddered as she wrapped the shred around two of her fingers and began scooping as much of the porridge-like substance out of her crotch as she could and flicking it off into the junk with a series of heavy plops. Why was it so thick?
When she was as clean as she was going to get without a shower, Jed pulled her pants the rest of the way up, hiking them so high and tightening them so much that the belt was functionally a girdle. She was about to hop down from the cart and search for Cabe’s head when she remembered how well her bare foot had handled Raxus Prime last time. Looking past her feet, she saw a pair of very large boots and a lot of cloth scraps, and her plan basically made itself. Carefully reaching over the side of the cart, Jed pulled Cabe’s enormous left boot off along with several fistful’s of shredded pants. She began winding strips of pants around her slashed and burned foot, tying them as tightly as she could force herself to, until a rough and very unsanitary cast was formed. Shoving her enlarged foot into the boot and pulling the laces close to their breaking point before knotting them up, Jed found herself wearing a boot that was still ridiculously too big for her, but critically one that would stay on so long as she didn’t hike her legs up too high.
Bracing herself, Cabe lowered herself onto the surface of Raxus Prime and began to put weight on her bad foot. She managed to get about a little over a quarter of her bodyweight onto it before the pain grew too intense to bear. She’d be limping badly on her way back to town, but she could use the cart as a makeshift crutch. She could make it. She could save Cabe, save the Jedi, and save the galaxy. Her destiny was certain, even if she had to pursue it one step at a time.
One step at a time, Jed limped her way over to her lightsaber and clipped it onto her belt, before adjusting her robe to conceal the weapon. She then waddled her way over to where Cabe’s head had fallen, the grimy feeling of her still oily legs sliding across each other making her feel a little sick. Picking up her friend’s head and turning it to face her, Jed was delighted to see him deliberately glare at her and mouth another curse word followed by some sort of remark that about either her brain or her breasts that was spoken too quickly and angrily for her to lip read. “It’s okay, I’ll get you patched up!” Jed said, smiling and wiping some blood off his forehead. He’d gotten a few cuts and scrapes in his fall, and his oxygen mask had fallen off, though that hardly seemed relevant in his current state. He was alive, and that’s what mattered. She could save him, make this right.
Placing her friend’s head on their cart, completely oblivious to the fact that she’d just set him on his charred and incredibly tender neck stump and that Cabe was now silently screaming in horrific agony as the weight of his skull came down on his exposed nerve endings, Jed limped to the cart’s control panel and lowered it all the way to the ground before deactivating it. With a crunch and an ear splitting grind of metal on metal, the cart sank a few inches into the metal mire, just as Jed had wanted. She hobbled over to the massive collection of muscle and scales that had worked her over and shook her head in a mix of disbelief and some weird emotion she couldn’t comprehend. The Londarr’s slimy cock was still standing at half mast, even as blood trickled out of its neck stump and its muscles twitched in the week long death throes common to the males of his species. She disgusted, but curious.
With a huff she leaned over and began dragging the body inch by inch across the jagged metal surface of Raxus Prime. While Londarr skin was certainly hardier than human flesh, Jed knew that the body was probably getting the hell scratched out of its back. Cabe wouldn’t like it, but she didn’t like getting pinned down and ridden by this monstrosity so that made them even. A little bacta would heal those cuts right up.
With one last mighty heave Jed managed to pull the headless body onto the cart, patting herself on the back less as a form of self congratulation and more to ensure that she hadn’t pulled any muscles or slipped a disc in the effort. After nudging all four limbs onto the cart, Jed hobbled around to the controls again, noting the many thin trails of blood leading up to the cart and deducing that the body’s back had in fact had a rough time on Raxus Prime’s rough surface. Jed activated the cart’s repulsorlifts and raised it to waist height, the body’s stomach and thighs twitching a little but not enough to risk rolling the body off the cart.
Before she deactivated the cart’s brakes and started the journey back to town, Jed hobbled over to Cabe’s head and picked her friend up. “Cabe, I’m sorry I cut your head off. I was stupid and reckless and you were right to tell me so.” She said, the sincerity in her voice almost convincing her friend that she may have had a moment of clarity. “But I hope you realize that this ‘mistake’ was an important lesson on my path to becoming a true Jedi! Even with my amazing powers, I still have much to learn in the fields of discipline, cognizance, and knowing my surroundings, and it was the will of the Force that my blade would meet with you exactly how it did. The Force needed not only to discipline me for my hubris, but to test my ability to endure in even the most trying of circumstances. And I passed the test! So, again, sorry I cut your head off, but it was totally necessary. Also, I forgive you for what your body did to me. I kn-aAAH!”
Cabe couldn’t listen to one more second of his friend’s insane jabbering without going insane himself. It was bad enough that she was trying to tell the only person who ever tolerated her that cutting his head off was a net positive for the two of them, but now she was passing the buck onto the universe itself and shifting blame onto Cabe himself? His body would never have attacked her if she’d just listened to him and put down the incredibly dangerous weapon rather than flailing around like a spoiled toddler! He waited until Jed attempted to brush some blood off the ridge of his mouth, then bit her thumb with all his might. He didn’t even care that his attack nearly caused her to drop his head. If a concussion was what it took to get the silence he craved, then a concussion is what he wanted.
“Jerk!” Jed said, shaking her throbbing hand and sucking her gloved thumb as she half dropped and half rolled Cabe’s head onto the cart. Cabe used much more forceful terminology to describe Jed, though none of it could be heard. How dare he, after everything she’d done and was continuing to do for him! How ungrateful! She glared at Cabe’s head, which returned a cocky leer. Cocky…
“Heh, almost dropped you there! Can’t have that happening on our way back to town! I’d better get you secured!” Jed said, vengeance filling her eyes as confusion and fear filled those of her friend. Hoisting him up, careful to keep all of her digits away from his mouth, Jed lifted her friend up and slowly maneuvered his stump over the half erect cock that had so recently stretched Jed silly. She could only imagine how such a massive unit would stretch out a throat. Cabe wouldn’t have to imagine it.
Cabe’s eyes shot open in wild panic as Jed shoved the thick spade shaped head of his own cock up his gaping throat hole and into the back of his mouth, the slimy organ distending Cabe’s already sore throat and giving the Londarr a taste sensation that could best be described as “no.” The vengeful, delusional, self proclaimed Jedi continued shoving until the base of Cabe’s stump rested firmly on the body’s crotch, and the head of his massive and, much to Cabe’s alarm, slowly inflating penis poked out from between his teeth. His throat wriggled instinctually as it tried to produce a scream, its movements only serving to further excite the brainless organ that tiled Cabe’s view heavenward one painful degree at a time. Cabe willed every muscle he still had control over to remain as still as possible, not wanting his throat stretched any further. Shock had overridden pain for now, but that couldn’t last forever.
“That oughta hold you!” Jed said patting Cabe’s forehead playfully. “Now then, lets get you patched up!”
She released the handbrake of the cart, and began pushing her strange cargo back to town.
I like this.
I'm glad to hear that. If you'd like to read more, I'll be posting the next chapter on December 20th (not so coincidentally the day the next Star Wars movie comes out). After that, I'm planning on posting 1 new chapter every other week until I finish the 10 chapters I have fully outlined.
This chapter contains, spoilers: Decap, surgery, scars, way too much talking and way too little fapable material. Reader discretion is advised.
Chapter 2: Pached Up
“I don’t normally judge what two consenting adults get up to in the privacy of their own home, but this?” She said, resting her palm on the forehead of her potential patient. “I feel it’s my duty, as a formerly licensed physician, to inform you that this is not a healthy way to explore your sexualities.”
“I told you, it’s not like that!” The second possible patient said, stamping one foot indignantly as a blush lit up her cheeks. “It was an accident! We were scavenging, I was using a torch to cut through some support beams, and I accidentally stepped on some hot slag.” She said, propping herself up on a wall and pulling a comically oversized boot along with some bloody rags off of her left foot to reveal an extremely blistered, bloodied, and alarmingly dirty foot. “I fell over, Cabe ran over to help, and the torch I was using cut his head off!” She pointed to Cabe’s headless body lying naked on the operating table, the (technically not a) doctor eyeing it skeptically as she continued. “Then, because he’s a Londarr, he survived, but then his body went into a sexual berserker rage, had its way with me, and that’s how I got all these,” she turned around and pointed to the ten circles of blood soaked into her robes with one small hole in the center of each indicating where one of her friend’s talon’s had pierced her. “and why we’re all messy.” She said, turning back around and motioning to the crotch of her pants, which was significantly darker, damper, and muskier than the legs.
“Uh huh.” The doctor said, unconvinced. “And what’s your explanation for this?” She asked, flicking the tip of the Cabe’s penis with a cold metallic finger. Said penis had been shoved up his recently opened esophagus and was jutting out of his half open and fully grimacing mouth like head on a spike. “He tripped and fell on it?” She asked.
The eyes of the still living head narrowed and focused indignantly on the doctor, the ridge around his mouth that technically were his lips forming the letter “e”, which in this context probably meant he was trying to say “He!” in response to being referred to as an “it”. Feeling his cock twitch inside his throat in response to the involuntary movements of his truncated vocal cords, his painfully distended throat stretching further, Cabe decided that until he was un-shafted he would keep any further comments to himself.
“He bit me!” Cabe’s friend said, crossing her arms and giving her maimed coworker the stink eye. “I said I was sorry and he bit me anyway!”
“I see.” The doctor said, not sure whether this girl was the best actor ever or the most petty person ever to deliver that line with such sincerity. “And what about this?” She tapped the body’s charred neck stump with a gold painted fingernail, rapping against its spinal column causing the technically still living body to tense reflexively as its nerve endings were uncomfortably stimulated. “Unless you’ve got some ridiculously unsafe and counterproductive mods on your torch, or you intentionally held the torch against him for a quarter of a minute, you’d have slashed his throat and set him on fire, not decapitated him.” She looked over at the repulsorlift cart that the woman had brought her coworker in on. The doctor pointed at one of the tools lying among the assorted scraps. “Also, that’s a vibro-saw, not a torch. Vibro-saws don’t cut flesh nearly this cleanly, nor do they burn meat this much.” She ran her nails across the charred stump, black dust that had formerly been Cabe flaking off and drifting down to the operating table. “This is the sort of wound you’d expect to see from a lightsaber.” The female patient tensed like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar, and the not-technically-a-doctor smiled. “So, did little Jedi Jedha find herself a lightsaber and get a bit too kinky with her Jedi role playing?” She asked, leaning over Cabe’s body toward the patient who was suddenly very fascinated with getting her friend’s pilfered boot back on her foot.
“It was an accident!” Jedha shouted. There was a pause, and she realized that she’d neglected to deny the other half of the allegations. Looking up, she saw the doctor’s smile deepen, and she knew the jig was up. “Yeah, I cut Cabe’s head off with a lightsaber. Accidentally! Everything else I said was true.”
“Including the part about not having 25,000 credits to pay for his surgery?” The doctor asked, leaning back against the wall.
“Pach…” Jed said, her eyes and voice implying a deep and emotional begging as she uttered the doctor’s name.
“I’m sorry, Jed, but as I’m sure you’re aware, a lady’s gotta eat. Even cyborg ladies.” Pach said, shrugging her organic right shoulder and her mechanical left one. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten all the freebies I’ve done for you and your friend over the years. Plugging up your stab wounds, sewing his thumb back on, not to mention all the bacta runoff you’ve bummed off me to heal your nicks and scrapes. All that and I’ve NEVER seen a single credit come out of your grubby little pocket, so don’t you dare ‘just this once’ me.” Pach said, a quiet mechanical click preceding and following her hypothetical quote, a quote which was spoken in an eerily perfect copy of Jed’s own voice.
“Paaaaach!” Jed repeated, lightly banging the back of her head against the wall like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “This is serious!”
“Yes, seriously expensive!” She agreed, stepping away from the operating table and sauntering her way towards Jed on legs that were suspiciously well toned for a woman who spent most of her time indoors, eating incredibly processed food of dubious nutritional value, and who lived on a literal dump of a planet. “Removing all this burned flesh, growing replacement cells, rewiring his entire nervous and circulatory system, sticking the parts back together, and a million other things far too technical to even bother getting into with a laywoman such as yourself. So, unless you find 25,000 credits tucked into your back pocket, or have some sort of illegal pre-clone wars Jedi artifact worth a lot of money to curio collectors and bounty hunters that you could trade for payment, you can see yourself out.”
“I… don’t have it on me. I hid it. On my way into town.” Jed said. She wasn’t sure why she’d lied, beyond the fact that Pach was looming over her at an uncomfortably close distance with an oddly cold smile. Pach wasn’t the sort of person who would kill Jed for money or rat her out to the Imperial police if she refused to comply. At least, Jed didn’t think she was. Before now.
“Oh, don’t worry, I can wait.” Pach said, stepping slightly to one side so that Jed could better see her decapitated friend slowly dying on the operating table as she dithered. “I’m not so sure about him, but I can wait.”
“I… I’m not entirely sure I want to trade it to you.” Jed said, deflating an inch with each syllable.
Cabe’s nearest eye snapped onto Jed and filled with a mixture of panic, anger, and disbelief. Forgetting or disregarding his prior commitment not to move, Cabe’s lips mouthed “EH! AH AA UYAAEE!”, the best approximation of “JED! I AM DYING!” that he could manage with a twitching half 2/3rds erect cock shoved backwards up his neck hole.
“Wow.” Pach said flatly, her mechanical hand rising to her perfectly symmetrical and perky chest. “That’s cold, letting your friend die so you can pocket the money for turning the lightsaber in.”
“That’s-!” Jed’s response fell apart. She wasn’t trading this lightsaber in for some measly bounty like Pach was suggesting. She was going to use it to achieve her Jedi destiny! This was her light in the darkness, the small spark that, in her hands, would burn down the empire and kindle the flames of a new Jedi order. That… well, it was for the greater good. Cabe should understand that. His sacrifice… his death… his death that she had kind of sort of been responsible for. The death of the man who took her in after her parents were killed and her sister disappeared… no. No, that wasn’t right. Jed was a Jedi. Jedi helped those in need, stood by their friends, and made amends to those they’d wronged. She’d have to think of something else.
“That’s that, then.” Pach said, overdramatically clapping her metal and biological hand together and wincing slightly as she did. “Don’t worry about finding a dignified spot to bury your old roommate, I’ll have one of my droids dump his remains somewhere after I extract all the useful organs.” She turned around and made another inhumanly uniform saunter over to Cabe’s body, the reptilian’s nearest eye frantically shifting its glare between the cold hearted witch and… that actually described both women for Cabe in that moment.
Pach snapped her robotic fingers, and a small swarm of medical droids beeped and whirred to life around the oddly cavernous room. The droids rose in unison and flew to her side, their cold metal limbs unfurling to reveal an unsettlingly wide assortment of knives, clamps, needles, scissors, and horrifying mystery tools that even Pach wasn’t entirely clear on the utility of.
“Wait!” Jed called out, extending her hand in an attempt to hold Pach in place with the Force. The doctor did indeed stop, Forcibly or otherwise, and turned to face Jed with a genuine smile that sent a chill down Jed’s back. She was really going to let Cabe die if Jed didn’t cooperate. “We can make a deal.”
“Can we, now?” Pach asked, her medical droids slowly rotating so that their little black lens camera’s with their tiny red dots in the middle bore down on her like the eyes of some fairytale monster. Pach hopped back a little and sat on the operating table, her uncomfortably short and certainly not-medically-advisable skirt drawing halfway up her thighs. Jed eyes darted uncomfortably between Pach’s eyes, Pach’s clearly visible Patch, and her own feet which pointed sheepishly at one another in their mismatched boots no matter how hard she tried to take on a confident stance. “Well, I’ve given you my terms. Bring me the lightsaber, I heal your friend. As for you… 500 credits and I’ll let you take a dunk in my bacta tank, buff out all those little cuts and burns of yours. Throw in a free blood transfusion for anything you’ve lost. I’m sure you have at least 500 credits.” She said, leaning back as she eyed Jed and Cabe’s partially functional repulsorlift cart and their thirdhand tools.
“Well, I have a counteroffer!” Jed said.
If Cabe had the lungs necessary to produce speech, as well as a throat and mouth unencumbered by a crusty twitching cock, there wouldn’t have been such a long silence after Jed spoke. It would have been filled with expletives, accusations, and demands aimed at both women haggling over his life even as his world was slowly overtaken by the icy shadows of an impatient death. To Jed, he would have called her a rude word for the mentally impaired, accused her of murder if she didn’t hand over the lightsaber, and demanded that she let go of her silly fantasy and do some real good by saving him. To Pach, he would have used an expletive meaning psychopath that didn’t exist in Galactic Common, accused her of extorting good people who had never done her wrong (even if they had TECHNICALLY never PAID her with money before), and demanded that she stop leaning back because she was now leaning against him, pressing his cheek into his shaft and rubbing the tip of his body’s cock against her soft white shirt which was exciting the organ painfully inside what was left of Cabe.
Alas, Cabe couldn’t provide any input, and instead a dozen seconds of awkward silence passed before Jed finally settled on what exactly her counteroffer was. “So, my offer. My offer is that I don’t have 25,000 credits on me right this very second, but I can get you that amount of money. If you heal me. If you heal me, and agree to keep Cabe’s head and body ALIVE in your clinic for thirty days, one month, I’ll raise the money to pay for both his surgery and my healing.”
“Do you know how much it would cost for me to keep this guy alive, in two pieces, in my clinic, for an entire month?” Pach asked, sounding more confused than rhetorical. “Not to mention all the equipment I’d have to take out of the rotation and devote entirely to him, losing customers along the way. I’d be operating at a loss here. No, no deal.”
Jed sighed. “Fine, if you give me… twenty days. I’ll-”
“Ten days.” Pach said, her voice taking on an ominous air of finality. “I’ll keep your friend alive for ten days, one whole week, starting tomorrow. At the end of those ten days, you’ll either hand me 25,000 credits, give me the lightsaber, or you’ll have the decency to never darken my doorstep again.”
Jed looked at Pach, looked at Cabe, looked at their cart of scraps and scrapping equipment, and Jed realized that she had been overlooking an obvious third option. She could save him, right here and right now, and she would. “How about this. I’ll pay you 5,500 credits TODAY to heal me, and to stabilize Cabe’s head permanently so that I can take him with me. Then, if you keep his body on life support here for the next ten days, I’ll come back with 20,000 credits and pay you to reattach his head and body.”
“And, if you don’t come back with the money, I pull the plug and his body dies? And he has to live out the rest of his days as a severed head in a living nightmare? If you could even call that living?” Pach asked, her and Cabe’s faces twisting in unison into a horrified scowl at the callousness of the wannabe Jedi. While Cabe’s face held this position, Pach’s quickly shifted into a wicked grin. “That’s awesome, I’m in! Assuming you actually have the 5,000 promised credits, that is.”
“Well, I have 1 a little over 1,000 on me.” She said, pulling a small compartment off of her belt and dumping a fist sized mound of electronic coins and magnetically charged plastic cards onto a nearby table.
“1,114.7 credits.” Pach said in a robotic monotone, her green eye flashing briefly. “What about the other 4,385.3?”
Jed motioned to the cart. “These tools are worth at least two th-”
“No.” Pach said, this time in a human monotone.
“One thousand five hundred credits.” Jed said, a little disheartened as Pach nodded in agreement. “That’s half. The metal scraps are worth around 300, and our cart is two thousand. That’s-”
“585 credits short.” Pach said, matter of factly. “Anything else?”
Jed frowned, looking at her feet. She really didn’t have much more she could give. While the air on Raxus Prime was TECHNICALLY breathable, any human who breathed it in raw for any extended period tended to live much shorter and more cancer ridden lives, so her oxygen mask, air tank, and filters were non-tradable. She had some food and water, though it wouldn’t even put a dent in the 85. Her blaster pistol and ammo… well, she had a lightsaber now. Jedi didn’t use guns, they were uncivilized or something. Though, uncivilized or not, they were definitely useful things to have. It definitely would’ve been useful to have access to her blaster pistol while Cabe’s body was riding her like a rented bantha. Then again, it WASN’T useful when that happened.
“No? Well then, I guess we’re back to plan A. Chop up the lizard and yank out its useful giblets” Pach said, dramatically turning on her heels.
“HERE!” Jed said, her temper flaring as she pulled the holster off her belt and threw it, with the blaster still inside, at the doctor.
One of the medical droids intercepted the weapon mid air, and presented it gently to its master. “Hmm… rare build, pretty good shape, and with the power cells included, it should fetch around six hundred. I’ll make sure to put any excess earnings towards your 20,000 credit debt.” She condescendingly reported, then snapped her fingers and jubilantly declared “Alright, then. One bacta bath and one crime against nature, coming right up!” On cue, the droids went to work, one small saucer shaped droid flying over to Jed to assist in prepping her for the bacta tank while the remainder hovered over the quite faint yet visibly furious Cabe as their master wondered how she wanted to do this.
Pach leaned down and studied the charred stump of the body’s neck up close, the smell of lukewarm cooked reptile and stale blood greeting her. Despite the clean cut, lightsaber wounds were counter-intuitively a nightmare to treat. The blade was about an inch in diameter and completely disintegrated any humanoid flesh it came in direct contact with. Not only that, the flesh was cooked for another inch around the cut, so that meat would have to be amputated as well, meaning that there was a three inch long section of Cabe’s neck that would have to be remade from scratch. Pach scanned the diameter and circumference of the blackened cross section of neck, her eye blinking as it measured its dimensions and placement of its veins, arteries, and nerve endings down to the nanometer. The destroyed/amputated section of neck could either be cloned, genetically engineered, and meticulously sutured back on, the significantly harder and more time consuming option, or it could be replaced by a cybernetic replacement, which would be cheaper in the short run but would be greatly disfiguring and would require constant maintenance in the long run. Both head and body would obviously need cybernetics to keep them alive while detached from each other, though whether or not the cybernetics should be kept post-reattachment or replaced with cloned material… well, that was a choice for future Pach. Present Pach saw that her patient’s eyes were starting to glaze over and his jaw was slackening as she pondered, so she needed to start the job before she lost it. Her mechanical eye flashed as she transmitted the appropriate data to her servants, and when she snapped the droids acted on that data.
Meanwhile, the droid prepping Jed for her dunk in the bacta tank grabbed and tugged at the young woman’s clothes in an attempt to speed up the disrobing process. It was counterproductive at best in this regard, the embarrassed Jed doing her best to swat away the overly touchy robot as she stumbled and hopped across the room toward the large tank of light blue liquid whirring to life as she approached. Jed peeled away her bloodied and mangled garments and left them in heaps trailing behind her, exposing fresh wounds and long forgotten scars to the droid chasing her down. The droid seemed to get distracted from its disrobing duties as Jed revealed her injuries, its lone glass eye cataloguing every cut and burn for Pach’s medical files.
There was an old and pronounced scar on the lower left of Jed’s chin, hidden by her oxygen mask until now, and a thin ‘v’ shaped scar beneath her left ear. On either side of her neck were a small series of faint crescent shaped marks, eight in total closely packed in bunches of four. Similarly, the top of each shoulder bore four freshly scabbed over but extremely bloody holes, complimented by two holes stabbed into her back above either shoulder blade. The droid noted that the patient was likely in extreme shock or unconscious when these holes were made, as the punctures were all extremely neat and showed no signs of tearing or struggle in the surrounding skin. Either that, or Jed had lost most sensation in her shoulders over the years, as beneath all the blood and loose bits of skin were a web of scars running down her shoulders, back, and upper arms, common injuries among scavengers who crawled through cramped shipwrecks and caves of rusted metal. The scars were less numerous and less pronounced on her upper-middle back and her slightly lopsided c-cup breasts, only a single thin scar running up the side of her smaller right breast and singe on her back where she must’ve gotten too close to a live wire. Her somewhat pudgy tummy, a product of very little heavy lifting and very many processed meals, had a small and relatively fresh scar three inches to the left of her belly button where a sharpened screwdriver had been used to convince her that she ought to surrender her coin purse. Jed dropped her belt and waddled towards the tank with her pants around her unevenly booted ankles, the droid taking note of the four long and alarmingly deep claw marks running from the small of her back down her left butt cheek. Dried maroon blood caked her cheek with sloppy lumps of deep red scab tissue running through the new ridges of her rear, making the left half of her butt look more akin to an overly scored and overly glazed hunk of meat more so than a partner to her right cheek. The fact that she could lean her rear on things in this state implied either that the talons had severed quite a few nerves, or that the pain in her groin and foot was extremely distracting. The latter was certainly plausible, as Jed’s womanhood was still puffy and raw from its encounter with the oversized Londarr cock. It wasn’t bleeding, externally, but blood had collected beneath the surface of the loose skin and formed several light purple bruises inside her outer labia and inner thighs.
As Jed disentangled her boots from her feet in preparation for ascending the ladder into the bacta tank, she turned to see how Cabe’s surgery was going. A droid with long spindly arms and padded clamps had latched onto Cabe’s head and unceremoniously yanked him off of his body’s cock with a soft ‘pop’, the lips of the severed head quivering as it reflexively tried to gasp in relief. The droid dropped the head of the now barely conscious Londarr into Pach’s hands, the woman staggering a little at the weight but maintaining her footing. Pach carried the head to a smaller table nearby and dropped it on its right side with a heavy thud, as a quarter of her droids tended to the body, a quarter followed Pach, and half flew away to fetch parts and equipment.
The droids over Cabe’s body began by sawing off a one and a half inch thick disk of unsalvageable cooked lizard, a fresh spray of blood pouring from the neck’s arteries as the cork of char and evolved blood constrictions were removed. The body’s legs kicked a little as the droids sliced between the vertebrae, its cock stiffening briefly as the vibrating saw stimulating what nerve endings hadn’t been burned out, but torpor returned to the body when the disk was pulled away and dropped in a bucket of medical waste. The amputation was completed just as their companions returned with the supplies.
Cabe flinched as his head’s neck stump was shortened, his eyes trying to focus on Pach’s but finding that with the further drop in blood pressure and the staleness of what blood remained it was impossible to focus on anything. The whole room was collapsing into a shapeless abyss, and apart from the hot flashes of pain flaring up from his spine as it was truncated, all was ice cold. Even as Pach precisely inserted a series of fine, short needles into the ends of his veins and arteries, her droids reaching past and securing each needle in place with medical glue in a process that surely had to feel like having a bunch of needles shoved into his throat, Cabe could muster up only enough life to twitch the corners of his lips in pain. Pach attached some sort of tube with a bristly end to base of Cabe’s spinal column, only five or six vertebrae by now, and while Cabe could tell that the bristles forcing their way up and between his frayed nerves was immensely painful, he had no more energy to react to that. He was going, going…
The fluorescent lights lining the ceiling of Pach’s operating room suddenly came into focus for Cabe, and had grown orders of magnitude more bright. For a moment, Cabe thought that he was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel that he’d heard so much about, right up until the doctor’s smug face loomed over him. She looked deepy into Cabe’s eyes, smiling one of her robotic minions rubbed some sort of thick, rubber cement feeling paste across the surface of Cabe’s open neck. “You still there?” Pach asked. Still voiceless, Cabe attempted to spit at her, though the last of his saliva had long since dried out and had left him with the worst case of cottonmouth he’d ever experienced. “Good!” She said, seeing the attempt. “I’ve got the life support unit up and running, so you should be getting a steady flow of oxygenated blood running. Well, synthetic blood. Not many Londarr donors around these parts. Don’t worry, it’s high quality stuff!” She pat Cabe on the cheek reassuringly, and while he wanted to reenact the stunt he’d pulled on Cabe, the doctor had either accidentally or strategically chosen to use her metal left hand to do the patting. Cabe wasn’t about to shed any more organic material by chipping a tooth, and so he metaphorically bit his tongue. “The sealant should be set by now.” She poked the end of his neck, surprisingly inflicting no pain on the Londarr and producing a light clicking noise as her nail rapped against the hardened resin the droid had coated the wound in. “Yup. That should prevent any leakages and provide a layer of cushioning for your head to rest on when I secure it into the module. Speaking of which,”
“AUGH!” Cabe screamed, a bolt of lighting running up his nub of a spine and rattling around in his head. When the pain subsided, Cabe realized that “I can talk!”
“Yup. The receptors I hooked your spine up to will not only track your vitals for the life support system I’m hooking you up to, it’ll allow you to directly control your temporary body’s legs and speaker system.” Cabe foolishly got his hopes up for one foolish second, his mouth curling into a smile as Pach reached beneath him and grabbed his life support system. Then, she brought the device into view.
Jed couldn’t hear a word of her friend’s tirade, and saying that she saw his blowup was something of a stretch. By this point, Jed had already shed every piece of her wardrobe save her goggles, put on the bacta tank’s built in oxygen mask, climbed the ladder (one footed), and lowered herself into the semi-liquid semi-transparent semi-blue semi-living bacta. While Jed had rubbed plenty of expired bacta runoff into her wounds, much to the unpaid Pach’s chagrin apparently, she had never actually been inside a tank of fresh bacta. Some people said it was the most serene experience ever, having millions of tiny symbiotic microbes crawl into your wounds, bond with your cells, and heal your body from the inside out. Some people also liked having strangers pee on them. The point being, some people were wrong.
Jed squirmed in the jelly-like substance, the jelly squirming in kind and forming a wriggling feedback loop that the naked young woman could not abide. Her breathing quickly devolved into short, shallow huffs as the jelly crawled its way across her skin and slithered into every orifice not protected by her sealed oxygen mask. She would hesitate to describe what the bacta did as ‘healing’. Bacta runoff healed, the mostly dead microbes only able to speed up the body’s natural processes and holding lightly torn flesh in position. The fresh Bacta, Jed would argue, was un-eating her. It bonded to her flesh, digested itself, and its waste product was more of Jed. She felt the five ridges of her butt wriggle against one another, the bacta seeping between the cracks and making the four superfluous ones shallower with each second until they were completely smoothed over. She felt the deepest point in each of her ten new holes rise until they were flush with the surface of her skin, then vanish. She felt the bits of rubber that had sank into her left sole jettison from her foot, and the blisters peel off and get carried away by the bacta as the sensations grew less and less distinguishable from her uninjured right foot. She felt the walls of her womanhood and the surface of her skin vibrate, her scars shrinking and her raw flesh regenerating its outermost layers of skin. She felt all of the wounds she’d collected today, and many of the scars that she had gathered throughout her life, vanish from existence, leaving behind a Jedha Kraz that was more alive than she had ever before been, yet the biggest sense of relief she got was when the droid tasked with observing her reached into the tank and tapped the top of her head with its metallic clamp, signaling that her bath was done.
“SPIDER!” Was the first word Jed heard as she cambered out of the thick goo that seemed to want nothing more than to pull her right back in, the bacta not really pouring out of her ears so much as it fell out. While only the one word was heard by Jed as she rolled over the lip of the tank and dropped seven feet to the cold hard floor, the inflection and cadence of the word implied that it was not said in solitude but instead was the end of a very long sentence.
Jed was fine, not that Pach or Cabe were checking, and the residual bacta clinging to her skin numbed the worst of the pain and prevented bruising. As Jed rose to her feet, rubbing her sore bottom and taking the unreasonably small towel offered to her by her droid nurse, she saw both the source of the word and the reason for it.
The stump of Cabe’s neck had been secured into a three inch tall cylindrical life support module slightly wider than his original neck, clamps and a rubberized hermetic seal firmly holding his head in place while an crude digital display and speaker on the front of the module displayed his vitals and synthesized a slightly tinny rendition of Cabe’s voice. Said life support module was, for lack of a better term, jury rigged onto a robot spider.
The chassis of the robot was a relatively flat disk shape, slightly wider than the life support unit that had been tastefully wired, clamped, and hot glued to it. Six articulated metal legs with sharply pointed tips sprouted from swiveling ball joints lining the circumference of the chassis, spaced equidistant from one another at the 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, & 11 o’clock positions. While technically the leg count would make this a robot insect as opposed to an arachnid, the distinct bend of the legs and the creepiness factor as they furiously wiggled beneath their new master gave every sentient in the room a very spider feel.
“This wasn’t even part of the deal, I’m giving you a freebie here!” Pach said, shrugging smugly. “So the way I see it, you either learn to love the robot-spider look for the next ten days, or you have your decapitator carry you around all week.”
Having mentioned her, Cabe’s eyes immediately shot past Pach and locked onto Jed. “YOU!” He roared, five of his legs wobbling to keep him balanced as the one at his 1 o’clock pointed accusingly at her.
“Don’t let her bug you, you look great!” Jed said, wincing both at her unintentional pun and her blatant lie. “This is only a temporary condition, we’ll get you back to normal in no time!”
“YOU can get me back to normal NOW! GIVE PACH THE LIGHTSABER AND GET ME OFF THIS RIDICULOUS THING OR SO HELP ME I WILL CLAW YOUR EYES OUT!” Cabe roared, scuttling towards Jed on wobbling legs.
His mistake, obviously, was getting within kicking distance of the person he was threatening before he had even figured out how to comfortably walk with his new body. Jed reached out her left foot, now completely free of even the most superficial burn, and placed the heel delicately on Cabe’s forehead before pushing softly, toppling him with no effort much to the amusement of Pach. Cabe nearly blew out his speaker swearing at Jed, his legs squirming uselessly beneath his chin and spinning him in circles. Jed took the opportunity to dress herself, the filth and dirt of her clothes mixing with the gooey residue of the bacta to create a horrible muck that encased her entire being. She’d need a good-old-fashioned water bath when she got home. When she was clothed and ready to go, she knelt down and place a hand on the side of his head. “I will help you up, but only if you promise to be calm. I’ve got everything under control, we’re going to make it through this.”
Cabe continued swearing, then stopped, then swore some more, then stopped, then with a heavy synthesized sigh said “I hate you.”
“I still hate you.” Cabe told Jed, practicing his scuttling technique as he circled Jed’s bare ankles.
“I still forgive you.” Jed said, refusing to dismount her moral high horse as she scrubbed away the sins of the day. Jed had jumped in the shower the moment they’d gotten home, and had scrubbed with all her might, yet even after blowing through their next week’s water budget in what had to be a record setting shower session, she still felt filthy. She and Cabe weren’t typically the sort of people who were comfortable showering in one another’s presence, or force forbid together, but after the many incidents of the day that had exposed both of them to one another’s nakedness in some of the worst ways imaginable this felt significantly less awkward than any of the preceding events. Besides, it wasn’t like Cabe had anything to get excited about, or with, any more.
“So, do you have any sort of plan on how we’re going to get our hands on 20,000 credits in ten days? Because scrimping on utilities doesn’t seem to be part of that plan.” He said, dodging a soapy cascade as Jed lifted her breasts closer to the showerhead for a concentrated power wash before dropping them with a wet clap.
“We’ve made that much in a week before.” Jed said, observing the spot on her breast where a scar had once been. None existed now, and in fact none of her scars still existed except as slightly paler skin that even now was fading into the surrounding tones. It was like the years of hardship and hardscrabble living had been washed clean off her body, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Heroes were always pretty, sure, and scars weren’t pretty, fair enough, but her scars had stories behind them. They were reminders of what she’d toughed through and survived, and the longer she stared at her baby smooth and unblemished skin, the more those memories started to feel fake. It made her feel fake.
“Yes, WE have. You and me. With tools. And a cart. Once.” Cabe said, clicking his 1 o’clock leg against the shower’s grouting with each point. “You expect to repeat that feat alone, with no tools, no cart, and no leads on anything good?”
“You can still help!” Jed said, her hair whipping forward and slapping across her face like a wet blanket as she looked down at her wet blanket of a friend. “You,” she parted her hair like a pair of particularly heavy curtains, the bacta refusing to wash out no matter how much shampoo she attacked it with. “You can crawl into spaces no other scavenger could! Get loot no one else has access to! Think of all the electronics guff that’s been left in the nooks and crannies over the years by bigger scavengers!”
“And what, carry that guff back up to the surface?” He asked, clicking his 11 and 1 o’clock legs together to demonstrate their lack of thumbs. “Put it between my teeth?” He clicked said teeth together. “And if I get trapped spelunking somewhere, how are you going to get me out?”
“With the lightsaber, obviously!” Jed replied, stamping her bare foot impatiently at her friend’s overly negative response.
“Oh yeah, and cut off my jaw too while you’re at it.” Cabe said, expecting that answer. “Jed, please, I know you’re-” he stopped himself, realizing that saying she’s completely insane and needed immediate professional help to deal with her grandiose delusions and narcissistic personality disorder would probably not help him at this exact time. “I know that you’ve got this notion that it’s your destiny to be some great Jedi or something, but… I need you to think about the people you’re hurting chasing this fantasy. Look at what you’ve done.”
“I can fix you!” Jed shouted, louder and more defensively than she’d meant to.
“I know you can. You just need to do is give Pach the lightsaber.” Cabe said, putting on the best puppy-dog eyes that a scarred, decapitated lizard head attached to a mechanical spider could muster. It was surprisingly decent.
Jed stared at the friend at her feet, remembering how he once towered over her. He’d taken her in, protected her, had always been there when she needed him, and now she was going to risk his livelihood on a hopeless gamble. He was right, there was no way they’d raise the money in time, not without taking some pretty heavy loans from people you really didn’t want to owe money to. It was impossible. Maybe she really did have no choice but to give up her weapon and her dream. Maybe…
Sanity was tackled into the abyss of Jedha Kraz’s subconscious as she recognized the loophole she and Cabe had been overlooking this entire time. “Cabe, you’re right. We need to get Pach a lightsaber. What you’re wrong about, however, is that we need to give her MY lightsaber.”
Cabe raised the spot where a human’s eyebrow would be. “What, are you going to make one yourself? With the energy modulator you don’t have and the kyber crystals you can’t buy? Or are you telling expect to just randomly stumble upon two lightsabers in the same week after I took you years to find one?”
“No, I’m not going to randomly stumble across this one. We both know exactly where another lightsaber is.” She said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts smugly.
“What are talking ab-” his face went blank. Cabe’s life support didn’t allow him to lose color in his face, but his expression of stunned terror conveyed his feelings adequately. He knew where she was going with this. Where they were most likely going. He stared into the eyes of madness, and cursed the day he accepted this deranged lunatic into his life.
I continue to like this.
Thanks, I'm glad someone does. Sorry it's a day late, and also the last few paragraphs have a bunch of glaring typos. Will try and do better next time, two weeks from now.
Please keep going!
I'm glad you like it, I was worried the story would be both way too niche (you gotta like Star Wars, the EU, campy bullshit, and lots of dialogue) and too broad (most chapters focus on different fetishes rather than a single rallying one so people have to have broad tastes or able endure stretches of content that don't appeal to them). Chapter 3 is already done, and will be posted on this Sunday after I'm done editing it. I'm hoping to post a new chapter every 2 weeks, for 10 weeks.
I'm really enjoying the story so far I hope that you continue to post. I like longer stories but I also hope that as the story progresses it will become a bit more hard-core
Thanks. Depending on what you mean by "hard-core", it may or may not.
If you mean gore wise, then yes, some of the chapters I have planned will be WAY bloodier and more goretastic, with much fewer clean and shallow wounds. That said, unfortunately for you, I also have some chapters planned which are actually lighter and less visceral than the two currently posted, though that will be made clear in the fetish listing at the top of the chapter so you can more easily skim or skip those chapters if they don't suit you.
If you mean more hardcore in themes, then yes shit will definitely get more hardcore as the journey continues.
If you mean in language, then probably not. While I personally love swearing and use "fucking" as a form of punctuation in day to day conversation, Star Wars has vey little swearing in it (IIRC, there's like 1 ass, 1 damn, and 2 hells spread throughout 9 main movies). All the swearing is either alien langauges, space stuff that doesn't mean anything to the audience, or characters will just shout and scream in place of swearing, so if you wanted me to make the writing style less saccharine, I'm afraid that that probably isn't happening in this series.
This chapter contains, spoilers: bisection, castration, genital mutilation, knifeplay
Chapter 3: Rodian Run-In
“I’m impressed.” Cabe said, the pointed tips of his metal legs clicking across the flat sheet metal streets of Geen-14.
“With what?” Jed asked, biting into her breakfast bar and slinging the small backpack stuffed with provisions over her shoulders beside her oxygen tank.
“You’ve managed to not only make the three worst decisions of your entire life all in one day, you’ve somehow managed to make each one dumber than the last. I’m not sure anyone else could’ve pulled that off.” He said, the tinny simulation of his voice maintaining a surprising degree of sincerity.
“Oh, Cabe!” Jed said, rolling her eyes and delivering a playful kick to the area between Cabe’s two back legs, which was all that could currently be called his butt. “I know you can be a sore loser sometimes, but you should be happy right now! You’ll get your body back, I’ll meet my Jedi master and master my own Jedi-ness, everyone wins!”
Cabe cursed as his mechanical legs wobbled beneath him, though he managed to keep his balance and continue walking with Jed, albeit several paces ahead of her now. “No, everyone dies. We die. Horribly. Or did you forget the last six times you tried this and the last six times I had to come and save you from possessed zombie droids?”
She took another large bite of her breakfast, and without swallowing answered “Simple misunderstandings. I didn’t have a lightsaber back then, so I couldn’t prove I was really a Jedi. You can’t expect a Jedi master to just let any old crazy waltz into their temple, especially while it’s still under construction!” Jed emphasized her point by patting the section of her robe concealing her weapon, paying no mind to the fact that talking about it loudly on a public street sort of defeated the point of concealing it.
“I don’t expect him to let THIS crazy in.” He said, pointing a back leg at his friend without ceasing his skittering. “He’s already tried to kill you six times, and I’m not going to be of much help saving you this time. Besides, he probably knows your face by now. I don’t think that presenting him with the stolen weapon you pried out of his friend’s cold dead hands is going to warm him to you.”
“How do you know it’s a he? Jedi can be women too, you know.” Jed asked, motioning to her bathrobes.
It was Cabe’s turn to roll his eyes, his scuttle stopping only long enough for him to stamp his spidery legs indignantly. “Well, when THEY send THEIR droid army to tear you limb from bloody limb, would you at least try and throw me the lightsaber before they pull both of your arms out of their sockets?”
“No one’s getting anything pulled out of anything. Trust me, everything is going to work out just fine. We’ll go to the junk temple, speak with the Jedi, get him or her to give us a spare lightsaber, get your body back, then I’ll return to get some training done while you scavenge to feed us. Easy as one-two-three-four-five…six.” Jed said, her tone doing an excellent job of concealing her niggling doubts. To be entirely fair to Cabe, the last few times she’d tried to contact the Jedi of the junk temple (or Jedi, plural, since no one knew exactly how many where in there… if indeed there were any) it hadn’t gone particularly spectacularly. The Jedi (or Jedi) of the junk temple was naturally distrustful of outsiders, what with the whole “Jedi extermination” thing the Empire had going on. As such, Jed had been repeatedly denied entry to the temple grounds by an army of cobbled together scrap soldiers. Said denial involved the droids chasing Jed down while trying to put some new holes in her with blasters and jagged lengths of rusty pipe, and on several occasions they only thing that prevented the droids from completing their objective was the timely arrival of Cabe and his brute strength. Strength which was no longer an asset available to them, as Cabe was keen to point out. Whether or not a lightsaber would allow them parley with the Jedi.
The timeframe of their quest was also something of a worry. Pach was expecting a lightsaber or a lump of money equivalent to a lightsaber in ten days. Since Pach had also taken the majority of Jed and Cabe’s money, they couldn’t afford a pilot skilled enough or stupid enough to fly them anywhere near the junk temple, which was almost as deadly to ships as it was to people. As such, they’d be walking to the junk temple, and since the junk temple was a four day journey from Geen-14 on foot that left Jed and Cabe only two and a half days of leeway, of which Jed had already spent 3/4ths of a day showering, sleeping, eating breakfast, sewing her clothes back together, and shopping for the necessary food, water, and filters for the road. Any delays at this point could prove fatal to Cabe’s body.
And, of course, there was the slight possibility that there was no Jedi at all. The junk temple had started slowly but surely rising from the wreckage a decade ago, the giant complex seemingly assembling itself through sheer willpower. Rumors over who was behind its construction and why they were doing it had become as common as the scavengers who had died trying to plunder it, and since so many plunderers did die, information on the temple was scarce. Some believed that sentient droids dumped on Raxus Prime had banded together and were in the process of constructing an army of vengeful droids to one day lay waste to the organics who had treated them like garbage. More superstitious minds claimed the restless ghosts of those who died on Raxus Prime had cobbled together crude bodies to posses and had gathered around some incredibly haunted shipwreck as ghosts were want to do, building a temple around the wreck for reasons known only to ghosts. There were of course those who thought that a Jedi survivor of the Imperial purge was behind the temple’s construction, which is a theory both Jed and even Cabe supported based on their observations of the junk droids’ mechanically impossible construction. Neither of them thought the droids should even stay in one piece, let alone function, without supernatural assistance. Since neither Jed nor Cabe believed in anything as preposterous as ghosts, the Force was the most plausible explanation. That said, one of the most popular conspiracy theories surrounding the temple was that it’s all an elaborate hoax orchestrated by the Rodian Mafia. According to the conspiracy, the Rodians had found an absolute loot goldmine and wanted to keep it all to themselves, so they set up a spooky haunted temple to scare away any meddling scavengers or Imperial salvage squadrons while they continued to plunder the site.
“Hello, Jelly belly. Fancy running into you, here.”
Jed’s heart stopped, her jaw froze mid-bite, and her legs welded themselves to the ground. Turning slowly to the source of the voice, she saw exactly who she expected to see yet had been praying with all of her being not to see. “Tug.” She said, swallowing hard and forgetting to chew. She bowed her head demurely to the Rodian gangster as she stepped out of the alley, her heart resuming its beat with unhealthy enthusiasm.
Despite being equal in height to Jed, who was not a very tall woman, the swaggering gangster’s presence made Jed feel like she was being towered over. It didn’t help that Tug had brought an entourage with her, a tall and somewhat lanky looking human with the scraggly shadow of a beard and a jawa of indeterminate… everything. The jawa and human were both open carrying blasters, while Tug was seemingly unarmed, yet it was clear from their body language and the way that they obediently trailed in Tug’s wake that she was unquestionably in charge. She may have been a Rodian woman of middling height, unimpressive musculature, sporting a ridiculous mane of mangy orange hair that shot out in all directions, but she was still a Rodian. Ergo, in the Rodian mafia, she automatically held rank over all non-Rodians.
Jed didn’t remember backing away from Tug or her crew, but when her back clanged against the sheet metal wall of someone’s shanty while Tug was still two meters away, she realized she must’ve been retreating. Jed clutched her left side on instinct, painfully recalling her last encounter with Tug and her screwdriver shiv. While that specific screwdriver had been left inside Jed and was now long one, Jed did not doubt Tug’s ability to find another sharp object on a planet buried under metal scraps. “You’re looking fresh. Take a bacta bath recently?” Tug asked, choosing to speak Galactic Basic. When speaking to their marks, most Rodian gangsters spoke Rodian to assert dominance or to make the listener uneasy or something. Tug speaking Basic, however, rattled Jed far more. Speaking Basic was a show of friendship and goodwill, and if Tug impaled her friends, Jed really didn’t want to know what she did to her enemies.
Realizing that Tug was waiting for an answer and knowing that it was a bad idea to keep Tug waiting, Jed said “Yesterday, yeah.”
“Yesterday? I see. And what about your friend?” She pointed down to Cabe, who was cowering behind Jed’s right leg. “If memory serves, your boy toy was a little taller when we last met.”
One of Tug’s associates, the pasty human with the definitely-not-compensating-for-anything sized blaster pistol on his belt and the large cheek scar interrupting his poorly shaved face, chuckled . He firmly but playfully tapped Tug’s shoulder, and remarked “What’re you talking about, boss! That lizard’s ain’t no boy, and without his boy parts he ain’t got a toy for this girl ’neither!” In case the joke was too subtle for anyone present, the human took the liberty of grabbing his crotch while looking down at Cabe, cackling at his own wit.
The cackling continued for a few more seconds, right up until the human realized that Tug wasn’t joining him. “Lerdun, I’m trying to have a conversation here.” Tug flatly stated. The human raised his hands defensively and took a step back, his boss continuing “Seriously, though, what happened to poor old Gabe? Cut himself shaving?” To which the human, Lerdun, laughed. He couldn’t summon a genuine laugh, however, and tried to compensate for his lack of sincerity with volume. One of Tug’s big, black eyes twitched with annoyance, though Lerdun couldn’t see it.
“It’s Cabe.” Cabe said. “And you know I’m still a person. You can talk to me.”
“There was an accident.” Jed said, not wanting Tug to talk to Cabe, or more accurately not wanting Cabe to talk to Tug. “We were salvaging and we got caught under some rubble and I could pull myself out but he was too big so I had to cut his head off but it was okay because he’s Londarr and can survive that for a while and now we’re raising money to get Pach to make him a new body and… that’s it.”
“Pach? The mad cyborg Pach? Heh, that girl is more of a crook than I could ever hope to be. I bet she’s charging you an arm and a leg!” Tug said. She turned, and coldly stared at Lerdun when she failed to hear laughter. Lerdun, who had been daydreaming, snapped to his senses and chortled uproariously, shaking the jawa who, based on their complete silence thus far, was either completely deaf or could not speak Basic.
“Yeah, she’s not making this cheap for us.” Jed said. “But we’ll manage.”
“I’m sure you will, Jedha. You’re a resourceful, talented, smart young girl.” Tug said, taking a casual yet disquieting step closer. “So, how much have you raised so far?”
“Uh, nothing. We just started. Today. Like, we’re going out to salvage right now.” Jed said, her back pressing further against the wall as her legs tried to scoot sideways. The jawa sidled between her and her escape route, slowly but deliberately pointing their blaster rifle at Jed’s feet, and by extension Cabe’s entire being.
“Oh, but you must have saved up something. You’ve bought yourself breakfast after all.” Tug said, reaching out and slapping Jed’s breakfast to the ground. “Come on, how much do you have on you?”
“Tug, I…” Jed said, sweat building on the ridge of her goggles as she stared at the smiling gangster. Her left side flared up, her intestines their master to give the mugger whatever she wanted. “I sold a bunch of my stuff to get supplies for the trip, I really don’t have a credit to my name right now.”
“Trip?” Tug asked, genuine surprise entering her voice. “Going anywhere in particular?”
While Jed managed to stop herself from hissing, she couldn’t stop her mouth from stretching into a hissing shape. She raised her hand to eye level, waving as she spoke in the hope that Jedi mind trick would come to her naturally. “Nope. We’re just gonna wander around. Hope we stumble across some valuable loot. You know, like always. But for longer. Because we need to raise a lot.”
Tug didn’t speak. While her eyes lacked pupils, the subtle twitches of her neck and face told Jed that she was looking her up and down. “Just gonna wander around?” She repeated.
“Yes!” Jed said, excitedly. Reining herself in, she continued “Yes, we have no idea where to look, but I’m sure that we’ll figure something out. Eventually. And, uh, once we raise the money, we’ll tell you if we saw any good looking-
Tug placed her left hand on Jed’s cheek gently, her extremely long and slightly tacky fingers shushing Jed without even touching her mouth. “Jedha, dearie, you know it’s not nice to lie to your friends.” She said, draining Jed’s eyes of hope. Were Rodians immune to mind tricks, or did Jed just not have enough experience to do it properly? It was a hard technique, after all. It probably required a lot of training, and couldn’t be learned on the fly. “Cho’no saubo dondi, ahn?” Tug asked, switching to Rodian and draining Jed’s hopeless face of color. Jed knew enough Rodian to translate the sentence, roughly, as “You do consider me a friend, don’t you?” That said, Jed’s Rodian wasn’t strong enough to allow Jed a timely and coherent response. Before she could untangle her the words and deliver them, Tug’s fingers tightened around the back of Jed’s head as she pushed herself against the human, her snout resting on Jed’s oxygen mask while her larger yet harder d-cups compacted Jed’s c-cups into her ribs and her back into the wall behind her. Between all the terrified thoughts of what Tug would do to her if she didn’t fess up, Jed briefly wondered why so many humanoid reptile species had breasts. Didn’t that make them mammals? Isn’t that why they were called mammals? Because of their mammaries?
Jed felt something sharp press against her left side, in the exact spot Tug had already stabbed her, and realized that taxonomy was not her most pressing concern at the moment. Jed looked down and saw that Tug had fashioned herself a new shiv, some sort of pipe with one end beaten into a jagged conical point, and was now lightly yet firmly holding its point against her. Jed could feel the cool tip of the improvised weapon on her quaking stomach already, the tip effortlessly burrowing through her clothes while the jagged taper caught. Jed did her best to slow her breathing, each exhale stressing her skin against the spike and each inhale causing a few threads of her clothes to split with a quiet yet very audible snapping sound. Her robes and undershirt were trying their best to stay the blade, but the cloth steadily tightening against her even as Tug refused to move a muscle. If the Rodian put even the slightest effort in, Jed would be impaled. Or, rather, if Tug stopped putting so much effort into not stabbing Jed, she would be impaled. And unlike the small point and smooth, narrow shaft of the screwdriver, the pipe’s girth and the jagged, bent angles running up to its crudely fashioned yet fine point would do some serious damage. If Jed didn’t immediately bleed out or go into shock, which was a very real and increasingly probable outcome, she would need a lot more than a quick bacta dunk to heal her. She needed to get out of this, now.
“Tug, friend, listen. I only have a week to raise enough money for Cabe’s operation. I’m going to have to spend every last hour out scavenging. I’m not tripping anywhere specifically, but I’ll be out of town for ten days. I’m telling the truth, you can search-” Jed stopped herself, realizing what Tug would find if she searched her. Then, when she realized what she had implied to Tug by stopping, Jed finished “Search me. I have no money.”
Jed felt a trickle of blood sink into her undershirt and creep down her side, her skin yielding to the tip of Tug’s shiv as the Rodian thought it over. Tug was still staying her blade, but Jed’s skin and clothes had given out. She moaned, her stomach shaking and inadvertently widening the hole as it rubbed against Tug’s blade. A flick of Tug’s wrist, and Jed would be dead. Tug allowed the moment to drag on, basking in the power she held over her defenseless prey. She giggled, and Lerdun joined her. It felt good to be a gangster, especially when the mark was a pretty, powerless little girl like Jedha Kraz. No one could stop her, and even if they could they wouldn’t. Tug’s thigh’s quivered with delight as she felt each of Jedha’s heartbeats run up her shiv and into her palm, each on a vibrating plea of mercy. She felt a wetness in her jeans, and judging from the confused and then disgusted twitch of that crossed Jed’s face the pasty little girl felt it too. Tug couldn’t care less about the money, she didn’t become a gangster for anything as arbitrary as credits. No, she was a gangster because she had a deep love of dominating people, and if she was going to make a living for herself on this garbage heap of a planet she was going to do it doing what she loved.
When Tug was satisfied with the beautiful look of terror in Jed’s eyes, taking a mental snapshot of the sight for future enjoyment, Tug allowed the moment to pass. She smiled, shrugged, and said “Sauban ch’kc’la oten, a hska anau ban!”
Or, in Basic, “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, and I’ll start the search with your guts!”
The eyes of both women widened in surprise at the sharp pop and dull hiss that followed Tug’s declaration, and both looked down in unison.
Jed struck first. Without conscious thought, Jed’s Jedi instincts had kicked in, the Force guiding her hand slowly and carefully down to her robe as Tug brought herself into range. Jed had wrapped her fingers around the weapon’s handle without attracting anyone’s notice, even her own, and when Tug made her threat, Jed’s thumb twitched. Now, a shimmering green blade of justice had pierced through Jed’s robe and through the entirety of Tug’s abdomen.
Shock overpowered the pain of having a glowing rod of concentrated plasma punch through several vital organs and many feet of intestines, and Tug’s initial response was little more than a confused huff. Her brain refused to believe her eyes, even as the green glow began to dazzle her in her unblinking stare. No one on Raxus had a lightsaber, certainly not Jedha Kraz. No scavenger would dare impale a member of the Rodian mafia, certainly not Jedha Kraz. She’d never let a mark get the jump on her, certainly not Jedha Kraz. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening. She couldn’t be impaled. She wasn’t impaled. It was all a trick, somehow. Her organs weren’t sizzling, she couldn’t smell her own flesh cooking inside her, her stomach was unpunctured, and it was Jedha who was about to get it. She just needed to take a closer look to figure out what sort of trick Jedha was pulling.
Without thinking, Tug took a step back. Then, the pain hit.
Tug only screamed for a fraction of a second, yet her abbreviated cry of anguish echoed through the metal streets like the wail of an alarm. The lightsaber hadn’t impaled her exactly perpendicularly, the blade entering her body two inches left of her navel yet emerging only a fraction of an inch away from her spine. In stepping straight back, Tug had eliminated that fraction of an inch, and the blade effortlessly sawed through her spinal column before she knew what was happening. Her legs buckled and dropped out beneath her, the delightful sensation of wetness in her jeans instantly vanishing along with the feeling of her tensed thighs, poised calves, and everything else below her hips. These feelings were replaced with pure, literally burning agony, which traveled up her spine in equally literal fashion as her body collapsed straight onto lightsaber. The blade carved up her flat, tattooed abdomen, between her large, firm breasts, and when her body finally stopped falling, its square-ish and somewhat flat butt landing on the body’s booted ankles with the knees spread out in front of her, the bisecting blade had reached the base of Tug’s throat.
Tug’s bisected shirt, a thin and stained wife beater, fell down her shoulders as they slumped down, exposing the Rodian’s large, firm breasts and hard abdominals. Apart from the blackened line of vaporized flesh and the inch-wide swathe of discolored meat still cooking away from the residual heat, fairly major things to ignore admittedly, it was a good looking body. While Jed didn’t swing that way, not without heavy drinking and coaxing, she couldn’t help but stare at the large, blue breasts as they involuntarily twitched beneath their now former owner. That said, Jed’s brain may have only taken an interest in the taxonomy defying mammaries in an attempt to distract her from the fact that the ostensibly noble Jedi had now managed to mortally wound two people in two days, and unlike her friend Cabe’s injury this wound was certainly lethal.
Whatever Jed’s mental state, Tug was very aware that the end was near. She could feel her neck shifting as her body’s twitching and imbalanced weight began to slump her forward, the line where living agony and deathly emptiness met crawling its way up her throat even as her useless minions continued to do nothing. She couldn’t beg, she couldn’t breath, even if her associates decided to do something now she was well past the point of no return, she was going to die. Tug up, and if her trachea hadn’t been bisected and her lungs severed from it she would’ve let out a cold laugh. With the long, powerful shaft of the lightsaber emerging from Jedha’s robes at belt level, and with her head temporarily halting its deadly descent at stomach level, Tug couldn’t help but notice the suggestive pose she’d fallen into. She’d already taken in a very similar view on more that a few occasions, though normally the face looking down on her belonged to a smug male Rodian, not a bewildered and somewhat remorseful female human.
Tug’s head fell forward and was sawed in two by the lightsaber, black smoke rising from her corpse as a line of messy orange hair was burned away.
When Jed looked up from her first kill ever, her wide and stunned eyes met with those of the human thug, Lerdun. This look seemed to snap both he and the jawa out of their stunned stupor, though their reactions to finally being able to control their limbs were vastly different. At the sight of a mysterious robed figure killings its boss with a forbidden Jedi weapon, the jawa ran away screaming, babbling a string of nonsense noises that even other jawa wouldn’t have been able to decipher. At the sight of someone killing his mafia superior and the human’s only in to the Rodian mafia, Lerdun swore and grabbed for his blaster pistol. Seeing this, and seeing the many meters between them, Jed squeaked in alarm and held up her lightsaber in the best defensive posture she could manage, praying that she’d suddenly unlock her Jedi reaction speed before Lerdun could draw and fire his weapon.
While the Force didn’t intervene, Cabe Zarro and the poor life decisions of Lerdun Whitt did. Lerdun had not only chosen a blaster unreasonably large for his scrawny physique and dainty fingers, he had also chosen to store said blaster in a beefy black holster which, while very intimidating, was terribly slow to unfasten and did not offer its user anything even vaguely reminiscent of a quick draw. Lerdun may have discovered this at a more opportune time, if he’d practiced drawing his pistol in a hurry, but he hadn’t. He was far more interested in posing with his blaster in the mirror and not-so-subtly flaunting its size to any woman who passed him on the street.
While Lerdun’s poor decisions indirectly saved Jed, Cabe’s intervention was far more hands on. Or, claws on. Scuttling out from between Jed’s legs and letting out a tinny warcry, Cabe charged the floundering gunman. Lerdun’s gaze shifted from Jed down to the furious green and chrome blob skittering towards him, and he let out a high pitched squeak of terror as the disembodied alien cyborg head dug its talons into the ground and then launched itself directly at him.
Cabe had actually been trying to latch onto Lerdun’s face so he could poke his eyes out, but the londarr had greatly underestimated the weight of his own head and overestimated the power of his new mechanical legs. He got about as high as Lerdun’s sternum, still several feet away from the shrieking thug, before he began falling. Luckily for Cabe, he had still managed to land on the thug, and doubly lucky he had still managed to hit a vital area.
Lerdun’s high pitched shriek somehow managed to climb several octaves as Cabe’s needle-sharp talons plunged into his groin and inner thighs, digging through the muscles above and beside his junk as the baseplate of Cabe’s body slammed into said junk full force. The thug immediately abandoned his attempts to draw his weapon and placed both hands on the lizard’s spiny head, valuing his real cock and balls significantly more than his metaphorical one. Lerdun pulled with all his might, and immediately doubled over as his pain doubled. Blood soaked into Lerdun’s trousers as Cabe’s claws tore through his groin muscles, the weight of the londarr’s head and the force of Lerdun’s desperate shoves pushing the blade-like appendages assisting the mincing of his meat. Realizing the devastation he was wreaking on his own crotch, Lerdun switched to limp wristedly punching the angry lizard in an attempt to knock himout. It was a fruitless effort, however, and the punches only became feebler as blood continued to drain from the now crying man’s crotch.
Then, Lerdun became a crying non-man. He kicked and squealed as the pain ramped up to a horrible crescendo, then fell to an equally horrible emptiness. Cabe’s head dropped from his body and slid from his grip, and Lerdun’s hands immediately clutched his throbbing crotch. He could feel the muscles of his groin, the ragged flaps of pubic skin with blood soaked hairs, and… nothing else. Lerdun looked down, and moaned pitifully at the ragged stump that had once been the base of his shaft. Lying on the ground, several inches away from the rest of him, were Lerdun’s genitals, a deflated mass of quickly draining blood vessels and oozing skin flaps attached to a lump of eviscerated muscle. It was a surprisingly large thing considering the size of its blaster pistol surrogate, five inches even in its beyond-soft state and it probably would’ve been six if hard, but such facts were irrelevant. It couldn’t get hard, and it wasn’t a manhood once divorced from the man. It was dead meat, dead meat which Cabe took significant satisfaction in further piercing and slashing to ribbons as he righted himself.
“Who’s not a boy now, huh?” Cabe asked, stabbing and pulling off the tip of Lerdun’s penis with two of his claws before flicking the sad scrap of meat into the half conscious thug’s face. “Who’s got no toy now, huh?”
“Uh, Cabe?” Jed asked, stepping over the pile of Tug and tapping the back of her friend’s had. “I think we should leave.”
Cabe’s rotated his body clockwise, and in doing so spotted nearly a half dozen gawkers gawking at the aftermath of their scuffle. Looking the other way, Cabe saw three more horrified onlookers. While none of them had intervened, all of them would be talking about it, and it wouldn’t be long before their talk reached people that would take exception to Jed and Cabe’s antics. Cabe nodded, and the two of them quickly sprinted down the street and out of town, the sparse crowd scattering at their approach.
It was very lucky the two of them would be gone for the next week, and very unfortunate that at some point they’d have to return.
Well, whadayaknow. I still like this.
Thanks. If you ever stop liking it, please let me know and explain why so I can think about changes to make.
Oh boy, I hope Cade's body isn't done doing things quite yet. Regardless it's all so entertaining and fleshed out!
Do you mean his real body or the small robot spider body his head is attached to? Since his real body is currently with Pach at this point the story, when I refer to "his body" doing things in the most recent chapter, I'm referring to the robot his head has been crudely attached to.
Yeah! I meant his real body with Pach. I hope we still have a use for it.
Due to unforeseen circumstances, chapter 4 is delayed until February 2nd. If anyone cares, I apologize.
Take your time!
I will continue to like this regardless of release schedules.