Chapter 1 by Darth Krispies - A Fayteful Encounter.

Panasia slumped to the corridor floor, taking care that her pretty dark-pink gown fell in attractive folds about her shapely limbs. She was bored. Bored, bored, bored. Bored and lost in this maze of service passages that went under most of Theed’s palace complex. Coming down here had seemed like a good idea a few hours ago when all the ‘droid guards had been called away for some reason and it had been ridiculously simple to slip away from her guardian’s house.

Gazing up and down the corridor, waiting vaguely for inspiration, it occurred to her that she ought perhaps to have made some sort of plan before running away. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the moment, although in retrospect heading for the palace was probably not a good idea. She remembered now that her guardian had said something about those Trade Federation people being there, and she was pretty certain she did not want to run into them. Apparently, they were not the kind of people a properly brought-up young woman should meet. She wondered if her cousin had to meet them. Ugh. How unpleasant it must be to have to be queen and sit around all day in hot, uncomfortable clothes listening to other people talk, surrounded by a bunch of stuck-up little handmaidens. But it’s still probably more exciting than sitting by one’s self in an empty, dusty corridor.

At the thought of dust, Panasia stood quickly and checked her dress for dirt, relieved to find it clean and unwrinkled. She chose a direction at random and set off, determined to take the first lift or stairway she found. She’d been underground long enough, and even durance vile was more interesting and comfortable than endless corridors and walkways. This was certainly not what she had expected of life when her guardian had brought her back from the convent on her 16th birthday. She had thought life was going to be exciting, full of adventure and romance, but all it had been so far was dull, and she had already had sixteen long years of dull.

Fourteen years spent with the Sisters of the Holy Force had been dull. Oh sure, the Sisters had been nice enough. The Order was full of meek, plain females devoted to the kind of things she knew she had no interest in – meditation, fine needlework, and that other thing. Chastity, whatever that was. The Sisters were very evasive about it. Well, Panasia knew she would never need the meditation or the needlework, so she probably wouldn’t have any use for the chastity thing either. A contemplative group, the Sisters spoke to her only rarely outside of her simple lessons, but at least they didn’t censor her reading very much. They knew she’d be leaving the convent eventually and would need to know something of the outside, so they let her read nearly anything she wanted to, although they inexplicably removed certain portions of the material. Panasia had the feeling she was missing something in her reading, but was confident she’d figure it out someday. And finally, finally, her guardian had come to take her away.

She knew it was ungrateful, but she couldn’t help not liking her guardian very much. First, he had objected to her calling him ‘Uncle Bibble’, saying it made him sound like a children’s entertainer, which was a pretty strange thing for him to object to anyway since he kept treating her like a child. There was that first night at his home, for instance, when he came into her bedroom hours after she had retired to make sure she had a proper nightdress, and then he had kept trying to tuck her into bed. He didn’t believe that she could even take a bath by herself! Honestly, it was like he thought she was a baby or something. He’d made such a nuisance of himself with his damp hands and persistent nightly visits that she finally begged a sympathetic maid to have a bolt put on the inside of her bedroom door. At least he treated her like an adult during the day or she’d have gone crazy by now.

She thought things would get better when he had her placed as a handmaiden with her cousin, Padme-calls-herself-Amidala-now. Well, that had been a total joke. She had gone in thinking that at last she would have some girlfriends her own age, but they had turned out to be snotty, brainy girls who never wanted to talk about anything interesting and seemed to have some sort of inborn ability to stand around doing nothing at all for hours! And the dress they gave her to wear was a terrible color on her, and didn’t fit her at all above the waist. Didn’t any of those girls ever grow a bosom? (Panasia felt herself blush slightly at that word, one she had read countless times but had never dared actually think.) And she hardly even met her cousin, because she wasn’t there a week before she was sent back to her guardian. Probably the other girls were so jealous they had made up some story to get rid of her.

Her guardian had kept her as cloistered as the Sisters had, so it was ages before she got to see another person, and then it was only that man her guardian wanted her to marry. Well, thank goodness this invasion thing had come along and cancelled that plan, because her prospective groom had been decidedly not her liking, even though he was only the second man she had ever seen up close. He must have been more than twice her age for one thing, and she just didn’t like beards, even blue ones. Certainly she had felt a little sorry for the poor man after she heard his last six wives had died, but pity was not a good foundation for a marriage. Anyway, she had decided ages ago that she couldn’t possibly give herself up to someone who wasn’t dashing and romantic and forceful. Her guardian had not been pleased at her balking and had railed on for hours about money and lost chances and ungrateful girls and upcoming elections and a lot of other things she didn’t bother to listen to. Then he had locked her up in her room and there she stayed, all through this silly Trade Federation nonsense, right up until a few hours ago.

Panasia blinked and looked around impatiently to see where her feet had brought her. She knew she had taken a lift up several levels, but this place was just as boring in a different way. And she was still lost and her feet were beginning to get sore. At this rate she be wandering around until her nice honey-gold curls turned positively gray and her ankles got as swollen as fat old Sister Trepit’s. Urgh. She considered turning back to the lift when her attention was caught by movement on a walkway several stories up. Three moving figures with some kind of flashing lights. Hmm. Probably just technicians, since this looked like a place only a technician would go. Still, it was better than nothing and they could at least point the way out.

She leaned as far over the railing as she dared and called up “Hello! Excuse me!” When there was no reaction from the three figures she decided they must be too far away to hear her and ran back to the lift. A couple moments later she looking down on them. Closer but not close enough. Bother. From this distance she could see that all three were men (not droids! hurray!) and all were clearly intent on some activity that involved a lot of jumping around and waving their lights about. She could only imagine they were testing the equipment somehow, but since she could never get her head around these sort of technical details she decided it didn’t matter. Whoops! One of them seemed to have slipped and fallen off the walkway, but his friends didn’t look very concerned, they just continued with their work. Well, they probably used some kind of safety equipment. She went down the long hallway to the lift again and this time carefully counted the levels, emerging on a circular walkway just as two of the technicians entered from a corridor to her left, still busily engaged with whatever they were doing. She trotted out between them.

“Excuse m-” she started to say, but got no further as the taller of two grabbed her shoulder and pushed her rudely behind him. She stumbled slightly, caught herself, and turned back around furiously to give him a piece of her mind. By this time they had changed position so the one in black now had his back to her. She tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. Without turning he thrust an arm back, and she found herself on the floor some distance away. She yelped, certain that she was going to have unsightly bruise on her behind by the end of the day.

Concentration broken, the two men now stood glaring at each other on opposite sides of an open hole in the floor. Panasia decided she had had enough of this nonsense and stood painfully to go in search of the third technician, who could hardly be any more inconsiderate than his companions. Dusting herself off she started for the corridor as a glowing energy field opened, and was promptly bowled over by the third technician as he charged through. As he tumbled and tried to catch himself, she heard one of the other two call out something like “Obywon, the reactor”. She was just starting to pick herself up again, wondering who Obywon the reactor was and whether HE could tell her how to get out of this horrible place, when alarms went off all around her and more red energy fields down the corridor began to cycle shut in front of her. She squealed and clapped her hands over her ears.

The two techs in white ran for the corridor, the taller one catching Panasia’s arm in passing. She tugged her arm away indignantly, overbalancing and slamming backwards into the tech in black as he ran up behind her. His foot caught in her trailing gown when she grabbed him to keep from falling, and as the last energy field shut they went down in a tangle of limbs and pink gauze. A deep ominous rumble sounded from the open hole in the floor.

The tech shoved her away and leapt to his feet, circling the room rapidly. Panasia got up more slowly, checking her dress for damage. It was intact, thank goodness, but her hair was another story. She reached up to start fixing it and found her arms suddenly gripped tight by black gloves that turned her roughly. The technician thrust an intriguingly decorated face close to hers and growled loudly enough to be heard over the alarms “Don’t stand there like an idiot, girl, show me how you got in. Quickly!”

The urgency in his voice and manner, combined with the still-shrieking alarms and rumbling from beneath her feet made Panasia bite back the cutting remarks on his insolence she had planned to deliver. She looked over at alcove where she had stepped out of the lift and opened her mouth. He followed her gaze and released her, pushing her to one side before she had a chance to say anything. He went to the alcove and stared in for an instant, then turned back, his golden eyes glaring narrowly at her. She walked over, stumbling slightly as a distant explosion rocked the walkway. As she swept disdainfully past him into the barren alcove, the lift door opened by itself. Hah, it had keyed to her when she first came up! She entered and started to give him a smug look when a second explosion made the whole structure shudder and he threw himself in after her. The door slammed shut, an alarm went off inside the lift, and it began a rapid emergency descent.

The noise in the confined space was unbearable. Panasia stuffed her sleeves in her ears and stared at the back of the immobile tech. He didn’t look unduly alarmed, just a bit tense around the shoulders. Hmm, nice shoulders, broad, not round and fat like Uncle Bibble’s and that other man he wanted her to marry. Probably from all that healthy exercise techs on Naboo apparently got. Too bad he was so impolite. She expected he didn’t get a chance for a lot of social intercourse with more refined people like herself. She sighed. It would have been nice to be able to ask him when he and his friends were going to shut off all this noise and fix whatever it was that needed fixing so she could go back home and get a bath, but she didn’t think she could make herself heard just yet.

The lift finally hit bottom with a rough thump that threw her to the floor. The door opened and the tech left without looking back. For an instant she was tempted to let him go and strike off in the other direction but remembering that she was still lost she got to her feet and followed his rapidly retreating back as fast as she could. It took her a several minutes to catch up, and she was cross and breathless by the time she reached him standing at one of the many places where the corridors branch off in a number of directions. Dropping the armload of dress she had gathered up in her haste (pretty as it was, even she had to admit it was not the most practical thing she could have chosen to escape in), she waited expectantly for him to move on. Without turning to look at her he spoke.

“Do you know these corridors?”

She was surprised. “Don’t you?”

“Would I be standing here if I did?”

“Weren’t you waiting for me?”

Now he turned to glare at her again. “Will you cease answering my questions with questions?”

“Oh. All right.” She waited again.

He let out an impatient hissing sigh. “Well? Do you know these corridors?”

“Oh yes. After all this time I feel like I know them all.” He must be new to the job, Panasia thought charitably. His friends were probably showing him around the facility and that’s why he’s lost too. Too bad it looks like a lot of things got broken on his first day. I’ll put in a word for him with Uncle and maybe he won’t get into too much trouble.

“Good. I require an exit that does not lead to the palace.” He waited, his disconcerting eyes making her a little uncomfortable in a sort of exciting way. She looked at the maze of passages blankly for a moment before seeing the smudged dust where she had sat down a while before. She smiled triumphantly and turned back to him, pointing down the corridor she had taken. Her smile faded as he pushed past her. This wasn’t right. He ought to be grateful to her. What was wrong with him, anyway?

“Hey, wait! You might still get lost!” She trotted after him, angry but not knowing what else to do. The corridors seemed much warmer than when she had come down and she was sweating and thoroughly disheveled by the time they neared the exit. She became aware that there was a lot of noise and fuss out there. She hoped it wouldn’t interfere with her plans to sneak back home for a bath and change. She wondered if she should ask the tech in, but he had been so rude what with pushing her around and ignoring her that she decided against it.

He stopped abruptly a turn short of the exit. Fed up, Panasia started to push by him, only to find his hand on her upper arm. She tried to pull free but he merely tightened his grip.

“Ow, let go. I’m going home. You can get yourself out of trouble.” She tried to pull away again but he merely shook her once and retained his grip.

“Shut up, girl.” He stood still, listening for a moment. “Tell me what is just outside this entrance.”

“A courtyard, um, some administrative buildings of some kind, my guardian’s house, of course, um, and some other houses but I don’t know who lives in them.”

He looked at her closely. “Your guardian lives here? Who is your guardian?”

Hah, now he’d be sorry for being so mean to her. She pulled herself up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “He just happens to be the governor of this world. And the queen is my cousin.” There, let’s see him start apologizing. She gave him her haughtiest stare, endeavoring to look down her nose at him even though he was a good bit taller than she.

As she hoped, she now had his full attention but instead of the surprise and regret and maybe a little groveling she had expected to see, his eyes showed only calculated interest.

“Are they indeed? Perhaps this interval on your miserable world will not be a complete loss after all.” He stared deeply into her eyes and Panasia had the sudden feeling that he could see right into her mind. After a long moment he pulled his eyes away, shook his head as if to clear it, and said something under his breath about ‘a swarm of insects in a pink fog’. She wondered if the heat was getting to him. He turned and headed down an adjacent corridor, now pulling her with him.

Surprise gave way to bewilderment, then irritation, and finally an unaccustomed thoughtfulness and she was unceremoniously dragged through a maze of new but identical gray service passages by a very presumptuous and uncomfortably tight hand on her wrist. It had begun to occur to her that however uncomfortable her current situation, she had not been bored in quite a while. Perhaps her life was taking a turn for the better at last. I mean, if a girl’s going to have romantic adventures, they have to start somewhere, even if abduction from a war-torn world by a dark mysterious stranger wasn’t what she would have asked for. Certainly not with all these darn corridors. There was nothing romantic about those. She stumbled.

“Oops! Sorry. It’s this silly dress, you know.” Distracted by the effort of thinking, Panasia had let go of the folds of gown gathered in her free arm, tripping over the hem for the third time, causing the tech (no, I must start thinking of him as ‘my captor’ she corrected herself mentally) to stop abruptly, and release her wrist after pushing her back against the corridor wall. Before she could ask him just what he thought he was doing, he grabbed up a fistful of the gown in one hand, turned on the red light he had been using earlier with the other, and sliced off most of the flowing skirts in a couple quick, slashing movements.

As she stood in wide-eyed surprise, clad in the remains of a very expensive and flattering garment, pressed hard up against a gray wall, a sudden thought leapt into Panasia’s head only milliseconds after it reached her mouth.

“Are you going to ravish me?” she squeaked, hands clasped over heaving bosom.

The question seemed to startle her captor, who merely gaped at her for an instant, before looking away quickly and muttering “Not just now. Ask me again later.” Then he caught her wrist and pulled her forward again.

Freed of the skirts, Panasia trotted easily along behind him in a much better frame of mind. Now she was on firmer ground, with the probability of ravishment in the near future. That was the one thing all the books she had read agreed on. No romantic adventure really got started until there was a ravishment. She wasn’t terribly concerned about the fact that she didn’t precisely know what a ravishment was, since that was always one of the parts the good Sisters had always censored, but when asked one of the Sisters had told her that “ravishing” only meant very pretty, and anyway, it didn’t seem to do any of the girls in her books any harm. In fact, many of them started out as total ninnies who actually seemed improved by the experience. And calling him ‘my ravisher’ would sound even better than ‘my captor.

She studied the back of his head, thinking that she would need to adjust her expectations a bit. She was certain that a ravisher was supposed to have thick, curling sable locks or a gorgeous golden mane, and couldn’t remember horns ever having figured into the description. Not that there was anything wrong with them. They were actually kind of cute. Not easy to tangle one’s fingers into perhaps, but she reminded herself sternly that this was her very own adventure and it didn’t need to be exactly like anyone else’s. I mean, how many adventures started with a girl being abducted by tech of all things? It’s usually a pirate, or a prince, or a dark brooding stranger who turns out to be a prince. She blinked in surprise at that last thought. Wait, he’s dark and brooding, right? And he wasn’t impressed by her connections, and those should have totally impressed just a tech, right? Hah, she thought triumphantly, try to fool me in into thinking you’re a lowly technician, will you? Just wait until we stop then I’ll cleverly draw you out and get you to reveal your true identity.

She was amusing herself with the thought of how surprised her guardian and her cousin would be when she came back and showed off this prince when he stopped and shifted his grip from her wrist to her upper arm, pulling her close. Here? Nobody ever got ravished in a corridor. She was going to point this out to him but before she could say a word he put his other hand over her open mouth. She tried to glare at him but he wasn’t even looking at her, he was looking out into a big open room. She decided it must be a hanger because there was a ship in it. It was a nice-looking ship, but disappointingly small. She wondered if it was his. She hoped not. She really would have preferred him to have a bigger one. Still, any ship was better than none at all, and size probably wouldn’t matter as long as he was a skilled pilot.

Chapter 2 by Dark Lady – Love’s Passion Tamed.

The ship, though small, was quite fearsome looking. It was also black, and metallic, and shaped like a wedge, not at all like the sleek silver ships designed on Naboo, where form was considered above all things, to be more important than function. The corridors had been hot and narrow, and he had raced towards the exit pulling her with him, boots ringing on the metallic floors. In her haste to keep up with him, the fine pink chiffon of the dress had torn in several places, and two ribbons had fallen off. At this rate of attrition, the dress would cover her only for a few more hours, and the thought crossed her mind – after her ravishment, where would she find something more suitable for adventuring? Pink net and six inch heels were clearly unsuitable for escapades, and she did not want to cross the galaxy naked. That would attract the wrong kind of attention.

From the shadow of the doorway to the hanger, her captor pointed a small device at the ship, and a deep low hum commenced. With a smooth action, a ramp started to lower from the rear, and he grabbed her arm again, and ran towards the ship.

She did her best to keep up with him, but after he jumped onto the ramp, not yet lowered fully to the floor, he punched a button at the side of the hatchway, and the ramp started rising again. It was a real scramble climbing in and over the edge of the metal floor. She jumped, caught the lip of the ramp, slid over and tumbled down, tearing more dress in the process, and feeling jolly grateful she had persevered with her gymnastic lessons. Never mind that uncle Bibble had sometimes wondered whether she might do them without the heavy woolen clothes the Sisters provided for her use, while he watched. Good Sister Elastica would purse her lips at this, and ‘tut’ at Uncle Bibble, who would roll his eyes, examine his nails, and grumble a little to himself.

Her manoevre had been quite graceful, in fact, and Panasia rolled onto her shoulder and rose with the easy fluidity of youth, tearing yet more dress in the act. Her captor was waiting for her, leaning back with folded arms against a bank of equipment she took to be some sort of control deck. There were lots of pretty flashing lights, and the deep gentle hum of powerful engines throbbed in the background. The ramp slid smoothly into it’s housing with the soft hypnotic ‘whirr’ of machinery most well maintained. The final clunk made her jump and pull her gaze away from his eyes, but having looked back to make sure the ramp was not going to attack her, she pulled bits of pink fabric carefully about her bosom, and stood up straight to look him directly in the eye.

The aphorisms of Sister Superior rang in her mind. “Your destiny is controlled by the Force, girl! Whatever your destiny is, meet it with dignity and a straight back!” Destiny or not, she was hopping mad and wanted OFF THIS SHIP unless the black ‘prince’, (she was sure he was a prince, now) was nice to her.

The ‘prince’ looked steadily at her without expression. “What to do with you, little girl?” he said, leaning back still, with a speculative look in his fascinating eyes. “Fancy a trip to Corsucant?”

His voice was rich and pleasing, and little shivers ran up and down her spine for some reason beyond her understanding. Perhaps she wanted ON this ship, after all, despite his manners.

“In this rag!” She stamped her foot on the metal floor of the flight deck, and demanded he release her.

He smiled and turned to the central bank of instrumentation and hit a few keys. The low background hum she had almost forgotten changed in tone, and became a roar, making conversation, or even thought, difficult. There was a small lurch, and the ship leapt into the air. Being unprepared, she fell again, and sat very firmly on the deck, with a thud.

“Release you to where?” He turned back to her, and pointed out of the front viewscreen. The ship was already well into space, and brightly sparkling stars of the whole galaxy lay before her. The engines quieted down, and became a steady hum, again.

“We are on our way,”

We? She had always wanted to go to Corsucant! She had heard of the wonderful theatres, the shows, the elegant night clubs – she would take the centre of the civilized galaxy by storm. She would be renowned for her beauty, and become a leader of fashion. Dazed by the immense possibilities which suddenly opened up before her, she became aware that he was standing over her, proffering a hand.

“And we have a few days to spare…”

“Would you show me round?” she said, as she held out her hand for him to pull her to her feet. Which he did.

“Possibly, but first I believe you wanted to be ravished?” He pulled a few bits of stray pink rags from the bodice of her dress, accidentally brushing the swell of her bosom in the process. “And this ‘rag’ isn’t going to last long, is it? You really need something more serviceable, before you meet my Master.”

His eyes glittered a little, and he pulled her briskly to a sealed hatchway at the side of the ship. The door opened when he waved a hand in front of it, and he pushed her into what seemed to be a lift. This descended, the door opened, and he pushed her out again, following close behind. By dint of more pushing, and a couple of barked directions, she found herself in a small room which contained a narrow cot fastened to the wall, and a bench. A wall-mounted screen displayed constantly changing script in a form unknown to her, interspersed with various views of space.

While she looked around for wardrobes, cupboards and somewhere to put her shoes, her captor and soon-to-be-ravisher started stripping off his clothes, commencing with his flowing cloak, and then his belt. He started to pull his tunic off, when she wondered just how far this was going to go, and she remembered that she did not know what ravishment was, exactly.

“Ermm – don’t you think you might get undressed elsewhere, and not in front of a lady?”

By now he had peeled off his under-vest, which had clung magnificently to his well-muscled chest, to reveal the most amazing decoration on his arms, chest, and back. The black and red design curled intriguingly down into the waist band of his breeches, hinting at…

She turned her eyes away with difficulty. Her ‘prince’ sat on the edge of the cot with a grunt, and bent down to undo his boots.

“This is my ship, little girl, and this is where I dress. And undress,” He leered at her, “and you really ought to start getting out of those clothes right now, before I do it for you.” He tugged at another strap and took off the boot. Then the next. He stood, and started to unfasten his breeches, grinning at her the while.

She gulped, and turned away, tugging ineffectually at various clips, zips, and buckles. Bits of tattered ribbon fell to the floor, and a decorative button fell off and rolled noisily under the cot. Immersed in her task, she felt warm breath drift across the nape of her neck, and she shivered, as two firm hands gripped her shoulders and turned her round.

Her eyes traveled upwards from his feet. She almost swooned. He had nothing on! Not even a pair of shorts! His legs were patterned, and so was his stomach, even his… What was that, anyhow? Unfamiliar with male anatomy her eyes opened wide and she found her breath was a little short, and there was a bit of a hot fluttery feeling deep in her stomach. Quite a nice feeling, what is more.

She looked into his eyes, (to avoid looking there) and he looked down her generous cleavage. “Ridiculous!” he said, and gripped the top of her bodice, and pulled hard. The fabric tore to the hem, and the dress fell off. Panasia squeaked in alarm, and placed her hands wherever she could, to cover whatever she could. Unsuccessfully. The ‘prince’ wrinkled his nose.

“You,” He cleared his throat, “Ahem - we rather, need a shower.” He gestured at a hidden hatchway, and a door opened to reveal a small fresher. He pulled her in. She was not unwilling, conscious now of being hot and sticky, thanks to all that running and the hot energy fields in the power unit, or whatever it had been.

A shower of water commenced to run from holes in the ceiling. They were very close together, and they could not avoid touching each other quite intimately, which she found disconcerting.

“But there isn’t room for two in here,” she opined, looking anxiously towards the exit, blocked by the ‘prince's’ well-physiqued body.

Her blonde curls were now very wet, quite bedraggled, and getting wetter by the minute. She would bet that this man did not have curlers aboard, and she wondered how her hair was ever going to get back to normal. The man reached towards her, and she closed her eyes in panic. Was ravishment at hand?

Then a hand, slippery with soap, was sliding over her neck and shoulders. My, that felt good! When the hand stopped, she opened her eyes again, to see the man rubbing a large bar of soap in both hands. He put it in a small recess behind her, and started to rub her shoulders, then down her arms. He turned her round with her back to him, and slid his hands over her breasts. In alarm, she put her hands over his, to stop the delicious motion, but forgot about the ‘stopping’ bit of the intention, and just allowed him to carry on. Which he did. Repeatedly.

Slippery hands covered in soap roamed her breasts, stomach, and thighs, as warm water flowed. She felt sleepy and excited all at once. If this was ravishment, it was quite enjoyable, and she realized that was most likely why the good sisters had not told her about it. Given half the opportunity she would have indulged in it quite a lot, and neglected her studies. A quick slap on her wet behind brought her sharply out of her reverie.

“Now please do the same for me.”

Pity. She was rather enjoying that. Never mind. She reached for the soap and lathered her hands. Tentatively, uncertain where to start, she put her hands on his head and rubbed his bald scalp and around the horns. He raised his arms to the water, closed his eyes, and seemed to purr a little. Bolder now, she continued down, rubbing vigorously, noticing there was no body hair, and that his skin was soft, and rather fine. Rather than turn him round, she slid her hands around to clean his back, pressing her bosom against his chest. At that, he opened his eyes, and looked down.

“Hmmm,” was all he said, then he closed his eyes again.

More soap, and she washed his chest, his stomach, and she wasn’t sure what to do about that bit of him down there, so she paused. It looked dangerous, that’s for sure!

“Have you done?”

His silky voice made her jump. How long had she been standing there just looking at it?

“Ermmm, no.” With heart in her mouth, she took the bull by the horn, and rubbed briskly.

It was his turn to jump.

“Not used to this, are you!” He pushed her roughly to the back of the shower – not far, so it didn’t hurt at all – and pressed his body to hers. Her hands fluttered at the very pleasant sensations this produced, so he took her hands and placed them on his butt, and ran his hand down her flank. Then he ran his lips down her neck and along her shoulder. She sighed. He caressed her sumptuous breasts, and tweaked her nipples with his thumb, and she started to squirm against him, wondering what more she could possibly enjoy. She thought she must look a fright, because her hair was wet, her make-up was gone, she was hot and panting with exertion, but between her legs was the most delicious heat that she had ever experienced ever! It was so delicious that she wondered how she could bear more of it, but there was plenty more. Especially when a skilled and knowing hand went there and did things she would never have thought possible.

By now she was raking his back with her fingers, causing her nail extensions to break off, and moaning continuously. Even her toes were curling. She felt her right leg raised and placed around his waist, then something warm and hard, (it felt like that bit of him) pushed slowly into her, right between her legs.

Ooooh. She sighed. Gosh! That was good! She forgot all about her hair, and concentrated on the good feelings which heightened in intensity as her ‘prince’ started a rhythmic motion, sliding himself in and out of her. For some reason she started her own movement in the same rhythm, and as the heat between her legs increased, she pushed harder and he pushed harder until her back was slapping against the wall of the fresher, then it was yet quicker and harder, until something snapped and everything spasmed into the most overwhelming and glorious feeling ever. As this happened, the last thing she noticed was that he did too, and that his own body was pulsing inside her.

At this point, he stopped, and pushed her back against the wall of the shower. Which was a good thing because she fainted.

***

She woke up to find herself wrapped in a warm fluffy towel, and laid on the narrow cot, with him laid asleep, beside her. The heat had gone, so had the funny pulsing sensations, but she felt safe, warm, and cosy. Frowning with concentration, she slid a hand between her legs to see if she could recreate the same sensations he had made, earlier. After some unsuccessful minutes she grew bored, and wondered if her ‘prince’ would do ‘it’ again, because he was better at that sort of thing. And was ‘it’ sex? If it was, perhaps she would have babies!

That would be one in the eye for those snotty highbrow little handmaids, wouldn’t it! Comforted by hazy dreams of small red and black children with cute little horns holding winsomely onto her elegant skirts, she sighed, and fell asleep again.

***

A soft chime woke Maul, and told him that his ship was approaching Coruscant along the plane of the ecliptic, and would hold steady at 0.0001 parsecs. A glance at the mounted viewscreen told him that he had approximately 30 minutes to calculate entry to atmosphere, and that four local sub-space beacons would soon register his arrival into controlled space. To bypass these undetected he would need to deploy the cloaking device, which used an expensive and rare crystal to oscillate at very high frequency, and temporarily disturb the space-time continuum immediately around the ship. In actuality, this meant the ship flickered in and out of existence at a pulsed rate of a thousand times per second, rendering it almost invisible. He did not like it much, because it gave him a headache, but his Master did not like Maul to use the Force to de-activate the beacons – they were not ready to reveal themselves, as yet, and constant repairs would create suspicion among the Jedi traffic police.

The woman – he did not know her name yet, but had no doubt that he soon would – had curled herself up against him, and thrown her arm over him, in an irritating and possessive manner. At least she was quiet when asleep, so with great care, he slid out from the cot and tiptoed to the control deck, dressing as he went. On the way, he stopped at a hidden closet, retrieved some black leggings, a vest, and a cape, and threw them onto the cot, just missing the feet of the sleeping woman.

She might be a useful catch, he thought. Cousin to that silly little queen – that just might be interesting, if she could be used as some sort of bargaining tool. His Master would decide what to do with her, but she had provided some amusement in a tedious voyage, even if her head was filled with pink fog.

He programmed the navigational computer and prepared to contact his Master.

Chapter 3 by Sooty – A Horrid Battyle and Frightful Kidnap.

The dark coloured ship floated eerily above Coruscant, its inhabitants preparing for an attack on the Sienar ship they had been secretly following from Naboo. They were cloaked in a powerful invisibility cloak and signal disruptor. The leader of the inhabitants of the mysterious ship summoned her advisor, Crii. She approached the throne cautiously bowing before the general, who was sitting half shrouded in darkness.

“Are you sure this plan of yours will work?” Soola hissed at Crii looking impatient as she leant forward into the dimming green lights.

Crii bowed lower “I am sure, if our forces capture the one with royal blood we could easily force the Queen to give up Naboo quietly without the rest of the galaxy interfering. After that we can begin the construction of the Hives there….soon we will have complete control of the lower half of the galaxy, but I beg you we must be patient…” Crii answered looking up at Soola a little nervous.

“And what of the dark being our spies saw accompany her? It was obviously some sort of protector, a bodyguard of some sort. Do you have a plan to deal with it too?” Soola asked with annoyance.

“We have the assassins for that one already picked out.” Crii said promptly.

“Good send them out now, we must waste no time” commanded Soola waving her clawed hand at Crii dismissively, leaning back into the shadows…..

***

Crii went down the dark passage ways and to the barracks where the assassins were patiently awaiting their orders.

“She wishes for you to depart immediately for the mission…and I suggest you all hasten your paces, the target is almost out of our range.” Said Crii as the twelve of them obediently went to the docking bay where their small star cruisers were docked. Before they left they activated their invisibility shields; the scanners to pick up hidden electronic codes; and signal disruptor. The smaller ships took off from the larger ship and began to follow the signal from the dark being's ship. They followed the sleek ship to an industrialized part of Coruscant and hovered in front of what seemed like a wall of a building.

“What is it waiting for?” transmitted Corak to the others, but before anyone could answer the wall slid away revealing a hidden docking bay.

“Now!” Corak ordered.

The Assassins put their ships into full gear and went full speed into the docking bay after the enemy ship. By this time anyone would have noticed twelve small space cruisers suspended all around the sleek ship. The assassins kicked open the doors of theor craft, which opened easily as they all leapt out, activating their invisibility cloaks; their shoulder cannons ready for action; and their razor sharp wrist blades ready to deal death.

The dark being had emerged from the sleek ship, but it seemed he could sense there were many beings circling him. Slowly he lowered his hood revealing his horned head, the eerie clicking sound of the predators around him turning into an angry buzz as he activated his double bladed lightsabre.

The dark being jumped high into the air just as four of the predators’ laser cannons fired at him. Gracefully he kicked two of them hard in the chest and they flew backwards hitting the docking bay wall with a cracking noise, bright green blood seeping out of their helmets as they lay there twitching slightly.

***

Maul spun round, and crouched, sabre humming, then slowly swung the sabre from one side to the other, changing the height and position constantly. He sensed four of them come running at him, their wrist blades held high ready to stab and slash at him.

While four of the predators were diverting Maul’s attention, three others had crept silently into the sleek ship where the one with the royal blood slept peacefully unaware of the danger she was in.

“Hurry, get this one and take her quickly to the mothership…before we are discovered!” clicked Corak “I will distract that creature out there,” he said before running back out of the spaceship to rejoin the fight.

The other two nodded to each other as they grabbed the girl, who gasped and screamed in horror as she awoke seeing the pair. They dragged her up, still naked from the bed, and the one who had grabbed her slung her over his shoulder. The girl struggled to get away punching the predators back, and pulling at the helmet’s oxygen tubes.

“Let’s get out of here!” said the other predator hearing thuds and crashes coming from out side of the ship.

Suddenly Maul sensed something was wrong onboard his ship, and he turned just in time to see Corak running towards him with a drawn laser axe roaring savagely. Maul had already slain four of them - their corpses were on the floor spilling green blood. However to his surprise, the two that he had kicked brutally against the wall were now getting up and beginning to limp towards him with their scatter guns drawn.

The other three that he had been battling with viciously showed no signs of stopping, Maul glared at them gritting his teeth looking into their black merciless eyes. He swiped his lightsabre at one in the scalp, instantaneously killing the predator. This encounter was beginning to annoy Maul as he roared back at Corak and made a sharp jab with his lightsabre at the predator's neck, decapitating him.

Out of the corner of his eye Maul could see two of the disgusting creatures making off for a nearby starcruiser, and they had the girl with them! Maul force leapt over the two limping predators just as they shot out steel nets, and began to run after the two kidnappers. He had almost caught up to them when the three he had been battling against earlier blocked his path, their infrared laser cannons had him in sight then firing at him.

The predators that had the girl were already aboard the small spacecraft and were engaging the initial take off controls.

“Help me! Please!” screamed the girl but was stopped from making any further noises by a green clawed hand clamped tightly over her mouth. The predator that was piloting quickly activated the final controls as they launched off into space towards the mothership.

Maul was livid at the fact that the predators had unbelievably managed to escape his grasp and make off with the girl. He savagely attacked the last five predators with such ferocity that even the ones he had been battling with for quite a while were astounded at his newfound rage.

The starcruiser docked safely in the mothership, and the predators and their captive got off their ship where they were met by forty predator soldiers all making clicking noises. Crii rushed forward and spoke into his comms device to the pilot of the mothership.

“We have her, proceed to depart for Vortex at once!” Crii reported, as he turned to the two kidnappers.

“Congratulations soldiers, you both shall receive extra rations, take her without delay to the high security prison cells, I must go report to her graciousness Soola of this excellent news!” Crii said marching off to the throne room again.

***

“So the mission went well I presume!” asked Soola after listening to Crii and the surviving assassins reports. “Admirable work….and what of this dark one? What became of it? No doubt he was a good fighter to take so many of my assassins down, but did you dispose of his body afterwards?” Soola asked already knowing the answer.

Crii and the two assassins looked at each other nervously and bowed deeply, “Your greatness…we did not manage to um, eliminate him….” One of the assassins said.

“We think it was a Sith lord, the way he fought…….”began the other but Soola raised her hand to stop them.

“Enlighten me for a moment, was it a pathetic human?” Soola asked sneering “Don’t tell me you can’t handle a human…” she laughed.

“No it was a Zabrak….”

“A Zabrak?! This is even more interesting, I would love to place a brilliantly formed skull like that on my mantle place, especially if it’s a big strong male…well shaped horns…nice” Soola leant back in her chair thinking about her hunting days back on Iridonia.

“Yes, nothing like Iridonia….hehehe…”she giggled remembering all the cute native species

***

Down below deck in the control room….

“Captain there’s a space craft advancing rapidly behind us, should we fire?” asked a co-pilot predator.

“It could just be trying to pass us” said the captain not troubled by this new development. “Signal for them so that they can pass….”

The sleek ship seemed to pass by at first but then did a U turn into the still open docking bay.

“You forgot to close the docking bay gateway!” shouted the captain at the co-pilot.

“What do we do?” asked the co-pilot.

“Sound the alert, make certain that all 300 predator troopers know there’s an intruder on board, auto-heat seeking laser cannons and activate the laser force fields.” Replied the captain.

What a good plan he thought to himself, the laser force fields should prevent anything or anyone from entering certain areas of the ship.

“Yes sir” the co-pilot said as he hit the alarm and activated all the ships defence systems………..

Chapter 4 by Erik Böge - Where Panasia Is Saved From A Fayte Worse Than Death!.

Darth Maul didn’t even waste a single thought about leaving his ship and right way jumping into a melee. Having infiltrated the alien freighter he harboured designs of destructing it from the inside, like an ichneumon larvae a caterpillar. Aside this, the scanners told of weaponry loading in the walls of the docking bay.

Allowing the threatening laser cannons to build their activation up to the brink, Maul released just a moment before. The broadsides of his ship’s guns - first the left, then the right and finally a fully circle while the Infiltrator turned like a pegtop – tore open the steel surrounding his dark ship with silent vigour.

Prepared for the counter-strike he holds for a moment and waited. ... And waited. ... And still waited, while the only response he got from the infiltrated cruiser and its owners was the mournful groan of metal cooling down from sudden heating. Okay, that was not the sole answer; there was also the clack-clack of some thick liquid dripping from an invisible leakage. And the hiss of gas decompressing from cut-off tubes. And... no, that was all.

Since no answer is nevertheless an answer, the Sithlord accepted with a sneer this opportunity to determine rules and pace of the ongoing event - he stretched his full six foot in delight. A moment later he perched, girded with the Force of the Dark Side, over an emergency hatch in the belly of the Infiltrator. His nostrils flared as the well-known stench of a multitude of alien-bodies reached them. Ha, those hunters, nightmares of his childhood, death of his siblings and pest to his ancestors! That would make to kill this ships crew not only a simple necessity – they had taken away what was his – but also a splendid celebration of late revenge.

Darth Maul granted himself a second more of investigation, fingering forward with his sense of Force. Thus revealed him the layout of the ship as well as where... she was. He remembered he had forgotten to ask her for her name. However, as it had been practical several times ago, he decided to simply give her a number. And since she was apparently the only female around, ‘number 1’ would be appropriate.

Then he let himself drop from the rim of the emergency hatch, enabling in the downfall the cloaking device of the Infiltrator. A wave of embarrassment flashed through the Force. Darth Maul grinned as his little trick to distract the eyes behind the surveillance monitors did work out nicely. Nevertheless, he didn’t dwell about this small victory but rolled like a wind-hurried leave in harvest over the floor toward a corner.

Not a second too late, because the moment he arrived, a door in the corner opened. In the door a Predator towered, guns ready to aim. It would have been better for Crii – yes, that soon we met him again - if he had aimed already. So Maul simply enfolded from his globular position, stretching the power of rise up to the ball of his left hand – the head of the Predator flew back wards, dragging the attached body subsequently behind. When he landed on the ground a double-foot kick splintered his ribcage.

Darth Maul knew this one had been a simple one, one who has been all too eager to make his cup. The next level would be more to his taste, more challenging. He ignited his sabre.

+++

Panasia fiddled with her blonde locks and yawned shamlessly. Whereas until now the events of the this and the day before had followed each other in a breathtaking speed, life now seemed to have resumed to the same lame crawl it have had when she were stumbling through the subways of Theed. She wrapped herself closer into the black cape – heavy dark folds were certainly the matching fashion for such situations.

Those new captivators had, regardless of their dreadful appearance, acted efficient and aside some raw handling during the transport she couldn’t blame them for atrocities. Actually she couldn’t blame them for anything, because they had not only lacked to torture her, but also lacked to speak to her. She had been captured, restrained, silenced, transferred, de-silenced, re-restrained and released into a cubicle of sorts.

The room was completely empty and disturbingly small. She could pass it with two steps. Moreover, its walls, floor and ceiling appeared to have sound-deadening qualities, because she recognised only from some shifting of gravitation that the star-cruiser did move. At least that chamber was well temperate, so a barefooted and scantily clad person like her would not suffer.

Just to hear a voice she said aloud: "I really want to know what made these guys tick!" And that was closer to the truth than you would expect - Panasia had wondered about the irregular clicks those guys produced. She hoped it would explain itself later. But not too much later, because she felt the call of nature.

In this very moment the door to her detention cell sprang open and in its gapping jaws stand her first captivator. "Oh!" was all Panasia could produce, because his golden eyes glared death and his dark robes were spilled with green smear.

He however grabbed her wordless by the arm and dragged her out of the room and along a maze of corridors. Now that situation was familiar to Panasia so she managed after the twentieth corner and tenth crossroad to shout: "Sir!" and again "Sir!"

"What is it Number 1?" growled he back over the shoulder.

"Those are enemies of yours, aren’t they?" Since he was a prince, the incident should been the result of an adversary’s plot, not just the game of space pirates which had randomly picked a prey. Especially if he was a dark prince enemies were a must.

"No. Just hunters," he hissed, "just filthy hunters!"

"Oh? So you’re out to execute a disciplinary action on rebellious servants?"

"This feud is much older."

Pondering about the mysterious answer, Panasia bumped into her rescuers broad back. She heard the well-known clicks and peered over his shoulder. They had stopped in the middle of what seemed to be a cargo bay, circled by a pretty number of those ‘hunters’.

A dry chuckle dashed through the hall. "Prepare for your last fight, man from Iridonia."

"So-o-ola-a-a...," drawled her dark prince threatening.

But before the cold fingers of fear accomplished the journey down Panasia’s spine, her first captivator and newly rescuer had turned and pushed her into thin air. He followed suit, hammering on the fly a code in his wrist remote. The place they had taken up before was under fire – watching that, Panasia made painfully contact with something that looked like thin air yet was hard as steel.

"Who is that Soola?" gasped she.

"Number 2!" He gnashed.

A black hole out of the nowhere opened at her left side and Panasia was pushed through it. Some mechanics smacked, it was dark for a moment, then the dim emergency lights glowed. Panasia realised she stuck in an escape pod. That was a good guess, because if she had not instinctively snatched the security straps, the acceleration which started yowling would have been unbearable for her fragile figure.

The speed slowed down soon as well as the ear-breaking noise did. Yet now a sickening tumbling ensued. Panasia did fall on hands and knees to prevent the worst. Well, the worst luckily seemed to have other appointments these days but that doesn’t mean the tumbling considered to stop.

So it did went for a while, then her escape pod was crashing against something, heeled to the right, turned, crashed again - much smoother this time - and finally lay still.

The hatch opened slowly. "Ackbar, you egghead of a slave! I didn’t purchase you at Kessel for damaging my ships!" "But the right side was smeared with green goo, Sir." "Ah... that’s true, of course than you have had to turn the pod. Brave man, brave."

"Uncle Palpy!" rejoiced Panasia. Well, actually Senator Palpatine, whose name was so unmannerly shortened, was not Panasia’s uncle. Rather we should consider him as mature friend, her only consolidation back in the days of the Convent, who had won the title of ‘uncle’ just because of a grave attitude he could show at command. And because of his age.

"Panasia? Oh, no! Poor child, poor, poor child... what has happened to you? Ackbar! Now would you lend her a hand up, would you?!" And with the help of the said Ackbar - which revealed to be a young Mon-Callamari with big, wet and shy eyes – Panasia boarded the ship of her old friend.

+++

Ackbar resumed to his pilot’s duties. Sad he watched the planetarian limits of Coruscant coming closer. He sighed. If he would have flown alone, he would have accomplished the docking manoeuvre better. And if not the senator was that fussy about dirt! So she must consider him a clumsy pilot. He sighed again. How had the senator called her? Panasia. P-a-n-a-s-i-a... he let roll the name silently over his tongue. How lovely...

Laughter flared up behind his back and Ackbar tried to catch the conversation. It was something about a big number of cookies they had stolen together from a Refectory just to suffer from an equal big gripe afterwards. And how a Mother Superior had refused to accept his, the senator’s, self-accusation, because she couldn’t believe a mature person of his age would play such a folly trick.

Happily sighed Ackbar – a third time if we count correctly. A Convent! How innocent. And how educated probably too. Not like those girls from the senator’s guard, those troopers, who had a penchant to corner him and ask if he could help them with angling a key or pedant or even breadcrumbs out of the depth of their uniform’s hard cover. They had never listened to him, when he explained his scientific work! But wasn’t the question about did slow down the swimming speed more, slime or water, more important than a lost key or pedant or even breadcrumbs?!

The rest of the flight Ackbar spend in shining dreams about Panasia covered throughout in glistening, gleaming, slippery slime.

The Senator however seemed to be in other moods. After the landing, as Panasia had headed to refresh and change, he snatched the cape the girl had left careless at a divan. "That is his!" he hissed clenching the black fabric.

"How will you know that, whoever you mean with...," ventured Ackbar a response.

"That particular cape was my gift!" shrilled Senator Palpatine. He shakes his fists.

"But..."

"Silence, slave." Palpatine seized roughly Ackbar’s shoulder. "That is his. And I don’t want him to rest his horn-adorned head on a bosom that’s mine." Understanding suddenly, Ackbar couldn’t agree more. "Listen, slave. When Master Sarin arrives – and he certainly after dinner will – his minions will tell him who we rescued today and which suite is hers. So take care to change the access code to her rooms during dinner and stay there."

"But, Senator... !" Icy fear seized Ackbar’s heart – to stay in Master Sarin’s was hazardous!

Palpatine padded his slave’s shoulder encouragingly and nodded. "I know what you want to say, I know. But you can’t do it all alone. I’ll take up the duty to care for Panasia, while you simply have to stay in her suite. Maybe just went to bed," he suggested.

And so it happened. Hours later Ackbar leaned with pounding heart at the inner side of the main entrance to Panasia’s suite, listening how she at the other side of the door tried to key the access code in. After several fruitless attempts she gave in with a curse – a quite innocent one Ackbar didn’t fail to recognise with a mute sigh. Some people from the guard show up as he could hear, she spoke with them and together they left.

Ackbar shivered. He groped his way through the lightless rooms until he reached the girl’s sleeping chamber. Perhaps a nap wasn’t a bad idea at all. He undressed, then went to bed...

The next thing Ackbar felt were two hands sneaking seasoned around his waist and a considerable weight pressing him onto the mattress. Then he realised that to stay in Master Sarin’s way was not hazardous, but deliciously painful. However, all too soon the arousing entanglement of muscles and sinews ended. "Force!" growled his bedfellow after he had commanded the lights, "If you were not Senator Palpatine’s property I would kill you!"

Ackbar clasped the sheet and dragged it up to his neck, but he responded in made up bravery: "I could ask the Senator. If he is in generous moods he would sell me to you. Then you could..."

"Nonsense," the Iridonian pushed the sheet aside, snatched his clothes from a stool and went toward the door.

"But then you could..." tried Ackbar to finish his speech.

Master Sarin hesitated. "You're right.I can." He tossed his cloths back on the stool. "But no tongue!"

+++

The dinner had been a great success. She had worn the first time since days suitable robes and uncle Palpy had been as funny as ever. Courtesy was his second name, so much was for sure. He had even allowed her to sip some liquor. Admittedly, it had been only a tiny quantity. But her royal cousin had never! Let alone her handmaidens.

In elated moods Panasia reached her suite – also an occasion uncle Palpy had shown his taste and kindness – and entered the access code. Nothing happened. Panasia told herself to collect. Then she tried again. Still nothing. For a moment she thought of screaming. Yet at second look that seemed not a promising approach since the door was not voice-sealed. After several repeated attempts with modifications in the code – my, who had created such a long worm of a number? – she gave up, uttering a dirty word she had caught somewhen at the Convent.

"Need help, little Miss?"

Panasia shrieked, but when she turned, it was just a guard saluting. Behind him three others unison saluted too. All four were of equal height - which meant really tall - with equal powerful legs, equal tight hips, equal broad shoulders and daring chests. Every piece neatly clad with the typical white hard cover uniform of Coruscant.

"Oh," breathed Panasia.

The guard muttered: "I’m sorry," and removed his helmet as well as a glove. "I’m Jango," he said offering his hand. "I’m Jango." "I’m Jango." "I’m Jango," introduced the other three themselves to her too after they had removed helmet and glove. All four brandished the same youthful face with apple cheeks, bright eyes and short, wiry hair of light colour.

Fascinating! "My name is Panasia. It appears I can’t access my rooms. The door won’t accept the code..."

"Aw..." "How bad." "What could we do?" "I got an idea!"

Three guards, including the leader, glared at the last one, who had, contrary to the others, removed his left glove as Panasia discovered now.

"We could go to..."

***

Chapter 5 by Darth Krispies: Panasia in Peril!

“…our quarters for a little nightcap” suggested Jango, with a wink over his shoulder at his companions (brothers? They must be, Panasia thought, with that sort of family resemblance).

“Well, I don’t usually wear headgear to bed, but I wouldn’t mind another sip of that lovely liqueur that Uncle, oops, I mean Senator Palpatine was serving this evening” she cooed, gazing up at him through her long, natural (of course) eyelashes.

Two hours later she cast a final, disgusted look at the sleeping, snoring, and slightly flatulent pile of naked, tangled Jangos on the large bed in their sleeping quarters. They had seemed so nice and helpful at first and she had hoped to pump them for information about Coruscant, but one lousy drink and they seemed to lose all interest in conversation. What’s more, they seemed to lose all interest in her as well, while apparently finding each other endlessly fascinating. It had certainly been an educational two hours, however. Who knew that this is what men got up to when left alone? Must be what they referred to as “brotherly love”.

From her chair in the corner she had watched undisturbed, making mental notes about certain, um, techniques that appeared to be particularly popular with the Jangos. She was sure that with a little practice, she’d be able to do some of them herself and looked forward to showing off her new knowledge when she was inevitably reunited with her dark prince. But she was not ready to indulge in that particular passion until she had had some time to indulge in another almost as pleasurable – shopping!

She stopped briefly by her quarters and tried her access code again to no avail. Oh well, it would have been nice to change clothes, but at least she had her gold credits card with her (she never left home without it). Feeling deliciously naughty at sneaking off without Palpy’s permission (which she just knew she’d never get anyway), she headed off to finally explore fabulous Coruscant.

----------------------------------

Alone once more in Panasia’s room, Ackbar sat up when he heard someone try to enter the room again. He hesitated, but after a moment, against orders, he opened the door and cautiously peered out, just in time to see Panasia, shoes in hand, sneaking guiltily away. Oh, that was not good. What happened to the troopers he had heard with her? Torn between staying put, waking his master (baaad idea) or following her and trying to convince her to return before her absence was discovered, he decided the last was the least dangerous. When her absence was discovered, his master would be furious and put some serious hurt on the nearest person, who was likely to be Ackbar. Besides, a sweet, innocent young thing like her should not be roaming the mean streets of Coruscant alone. He pulled his clothes on and ran quickly after her, pausing only to leave a voice message for his master about where he had gone and to suggest he ask his troopers about what she had been doing in the last few hours, thereby diverting a little of his inevitable wrath their way. Sorry boys, he thought, but better you than me.

---------------------------------

Panasia studied herself in the dressing room mirror. Yes, this was more like it. Short, clingy lavender tunic, matching tights, and soft, low-heeled white boots. Smart, sensible clothes a girl could really go adventuring in. She tugged the tunic down slightly in the back, worried that it might ride up and expose a bit too much of her pert derriere. She was accustomed to long, drapy gowns, but had to admit that her long, slim legs were worth showing off. Besides, the clerk had said, while tying back Panasia’s hair with a simple white bow, that this was a very popular style among girls her age.

Leaving instructions to send her gown and heels back to Palpy’s place, she headed out again, this time descending several levels to where she had been told the “action” was. A couple hours later she was hopelessly lost in a dingy, filthy part of the city, stepping over unnamable liquids and solids on the walkways, and fending off the advances of a good many unpleasant looking people. Many of these advances were couched in financial terms, which made her think that if she got lost down here forever, at least she’d be able to get a job quickly enough. Spotting a tavern of some sort that looked slightly cleaner than the establishments around it, she decided to go in and ask for directions.

----------------------------

Having lost sight of her again several moments before, it was with considerable relief that Ackbar spotted her through the window of a vile-looking cantina, drink in hand, and being backed up against the bar by an exceptionally large and dangerous looking humanoid male. With little hope of being able to extricate her safely from this situation, he nonetheless took a deep breath and entered. He pushed his way through the crowd and took her elbow, pulling her slightly away from the looming drunkard. She turned and looked at him with happy surprise.

“Ackbar! How nice to see you! What are you doing here?”

“Please, Lady Panasia” he whispered. “Let’s leave this place as quickly as possible. It’s not safe for young women.” Or young Calamari, for that matter.

“Oh! Then you know the way? I was just going to ask my new friend Crusher here if he knew how to get back to…”

“Yesyesyes” Ackbar said quickly, not wanting any of the cutthroats nearby to know where they were from. He smiled ingratiatingly at Crusher and began to pull her toward the exit.

“Hrrm, I fink da girl’s awready wit’ me, fishface” snarled Crusher, catching her arm with one had while his other dropped to his blaster. Golly, Panasia thought, I didn’t know they were allowed to carry those in public.

“Pardon me,” said a voice behind Panasia and Ackbar, “but is there some problem here?”

At the sound of the voice, Panasia’s body had automatically straightened. Turning, she was at first astonished to see Mother Superior, then realized that no, it wasn’t her but a woman her double in voice and bearing, though not feature. Tall, about 50, with stern but kindly features, in severe clothing much cleaner than that worn by the other denizens of the tavern.

To Ackbar’s surprise, the enormous Crusher dropped Panasia’s arm as if it burned him and backed away.

“Hrrm, sorry bout dat, Phookah. Dint know she was yours,” he muttered, melting away into the crowd.

The woman turned a benevolent smile on Ackbar and Panasia. “What are two such nice children doing in this den of iniquity? Come along, let me take you out of here.” She took them by the hands and led them out, the crowd parting without a murmur to let them pass. “I have a vehicle outside. Let me give you a lift home.”

-----------------------------

Paakgui scanned the procurement list before throwing it aside impatiently. Damn all the slavers in this part of the galaxy. How hard could it be to find one Mon Calamari male? True, they weren’t all that numerous, not like those ubiquitous humans who bred in all seasons and infested most of the inhabited systems, but it still shouldn’t be this difficult.

He reached a claw up under a loosening chitin plate and scratched. Another ten days and he’d have to give up this potentially lucrative commission. The annual cycle of molting and mating in the hot mud baths of his home world was not worth missing, not even for the enormous wad of cash Warlord Maldor d’Viant was paying. Paakgui had managed to acquire twenty-three of the requested twenty-four pairs of young, attractive (by their respective standards, although Paakgui had to resort to using charts to determine the attractiveness of most) beings, lacking only the Mon Calamari male to complete the final pair. The warlord had made it clear that he was only interested in purchasing complete sets, and if Paakgui had to sell them off piecemeal, he would take a heavy loss.

His scratching was interrupted by a crewmember that stood waiting to be noticed. “Yes, what is it?” Please let it be someone with a damn squid, he thought.

“A transmission from a procurer based on Coruscant, sir,” the nervous crewmember said. "A woman named Phookah. She says, ‘Paakgui darling, loosen up your purse strings. Have I got a find for you.’”

“Hah!” Paakgui sat up. “Old ‘Mother’ Phookah! I should have known she’d come through. Best damn procurer anywhere! What is her ETA?”

-------------------------

Four naked Jangos stood chained together in a secret room of the Naboo embassy, trying to avoid the burning gaze of the dark-robed figure in front of them.

“You were given one simple task; to keep watch over a teenage idiot for a few hours. I am curious to know why four of my best troopers were unable, for all their vaunted prowess, to complete this one simple task.” The voice of Lord Sidious was cold and deadly, the initial heat of his anger having been expended on the unfortunate secretary who delivered Ackbar’s message. There would be clean-up work for someone later on.

Jango replied “We were watching her, as you commanded, but, er,…” He looked at his companions

Jango took up the narrative “We became a little distracted, had a bit too much to drink, er…”

Jango continued. “You know how it is, things just got a little out of hand.”

“Or in hand, as the case may be, heh heh” quipped Jango, unfortunately. The others groaned. Jango liked to fancy himself a comedian.

Lord Sidious turned his gaze on the grinning Jango, and a burst of force lightning later, there were only three remaining. They drew a little closer together.

Another dark-robed figure entered the room, diverting the Sith Master’s attention. “Well, Lord Maul? I trust you have begun to make amends for your own errors by finding the girl?”

The other nodded assent. “I have discovered the last use of her credits card was at a tavern near the spaceport only a short time ago. If you consider her worth the trouble, I will go now and retrieve her.”

Lord Sidious blew a gasket “Worth the trouble, you incompetent ass? Do you have any idea who she is?”

Lord Maul impassively filed the insult away with a thousand other casual injuries inflicted over the years against the time when each would be paid for, painfully and individually. “A relative of the queen’s, my master, but surely there are others close to her that may be used as hostages.”

“As it happens, she is sole heir to fully two-thirds of Naboo itself, as well as a dozen other entire systems, and no less than five multi-system corporations. She is possibly the richest and most powerful idiot child in the Republic. That is why you will retrieve her, return her to me, and keep your lecherous paws off her. I intend to marry her as soon as she is brought back.” Sidious turned back to the Jangos. “Oh dear, did I say that out loud? How unfortunate you three were here to hear it.”

-------------------------------

Panasia awoke on a strange ship with a headache. That is, she had the headache, not the ship. She was roused by the sound of voices, one of which sounded like a strident, unpleasant version of that nice Phookah’s, the other like claws on a blackboard. She squinted against the light, but could not make out the speakers.

“We agreed on the price for the Mon Calamari, but I already have a human female. I don’t need this one.” The scratchy voice said. “What’s more, her upper torso is deformed. I wouldn’t have her anyway.”

“Oh my dear Paakgui,” cackled the woman. “That deformity, as you call it, is something that d’Viant will be happy to pay you extra for. You don’t understand human anatomy, but trust me, the warlord does. This girl is a rare find. I’ve never lied to you before, have I?”

“Well, if you’re certain, perhaps we can swap you for the female I already have. And a additional 500.”

“Make it a thousand and you have a deal.” The woman sounded satisfied.

“Just one other thing, Phookah. How can I tell if the Mon Calamari you brought me is, well, the opposite sex from the other I have? I can’t tell the damn things apart”.

“You don’t have to be able to. Only they do.”

“All I know is the other one is half again as large as this one you brought, and a hell of a lot meaner.”

“Ah, that would be a female. I’m virtually certain that this one is male. Put them together for a few days and it will become apparent. Not too long, though, unless you have nursery facilities for 1500 babies.” The woman cackled again.

Panasia became aware that they were talking about Ackbar, so he must still be here. She groped blindly and caught his hand. At least she was not alone. At that moment rough hands with sharp claws pulled the two up and she opened her eyes. A huge gray face with fearsome mandibles loomed over them.

“Put the Mon Calamari in the tank with the other one.” It said, the source of the scratchy voice she had heard.

“Lady Panasia” said Ackbar, clasping her hands, his voice choked with panic, “If you survive this, tell them I went out bravely.” Then he was dragged away by two burly crewmembers.

Panasia turned back to the big insect-thingy. “How dare you! Do you know who I am? You are going to be so sorry when…” her voice was cut off abruptly as a collar was snapped around her neck, paralyzing her vocal chords.

“Put her in the cell and take out the other human female for Phookah” ordered the insectoid, turning away.

Chapter 6 by Sooty: An Olde Embaryssment!

Soola stormed down the dark hallways through her half destroyed ship, sparks flew out of a damaged sensor beam as she passed it. She reached the control room, found the distress signal and activated it - she knew the power generator fuse had not much time left before it blew, which meant that then the oxygen filters aboard the ship would cease to operate... and her own supply of oxygen wouldn't last until backup troops arrive.

She cursed, making a flurry of clicking and hissing noises about the incompetence of Crii letting himself being tracked down by the attacker. She went over to the generator pulling off the hatch to its blown fuses...luckily five were still working ok and she could manage to easily repair the other four damaged ones. Soola checked in the storage compartment for the spare fuses,.... there were only smashed up ones there. She cursed at Crii once again for not replacing the broken fuses, now Soola would have to go all the way down to the main hangar where there were probably more.

She knew she had little time to replace the four before the power cut out completely, she ran down the dark passageways stepping over the bodies of her deceased comrades, furiously remembering the Zabrak who had killed them all. When she reached the main hanger she went over to the emergency supplies room where she found several more of her friends lying dead. One of them was holding several fuses, Soola knelt down and pried open the hand of the predator breaking his fingers retrieving the fuses.

She ran back to the control room and began replacing the blown fuses. Within minutes the flickering of the lights began to stop and the ship made a humming noise, it was still badly damaged from the 'incident' before.

While she waited for the reinforcements she assesed the rest of the ship and thought about the zabrak that had killed all of her soldiers, he seemed familar somehow and he reconized her too.

Ahh...little Khamier...the one that she had let go from her hunt, all those years ago, Soola realized his familiar horn growth development from his particular tribe/clan. She smiled as she reminisced about the hunting days on the harsh planet Iridonia....

---------------

((huntin' days on iridonia))

Soola was the leader of the area hunting party, she and a troupe of about 40 other preds had gone to that particular planet because of the native species skull shape and their strong will to survive, which made for good hunting needing skill. They had wiped out several tribes in the northern area. Three hunters approached her dragging a struggling young teenage zabrak male and a older male. Ahh...she saw the ferociousness in the young ones eyes as he struggled to claw and headbutt them but to no avail. "he is a strong one, will become a strong adult...not quite though maybe a couple of years" reported one of the hunters. "the older claims to be a relative, his uncle."

"We could still have some fun with him though, hey Soola?" asked another hunter. Soola ignored the older one and turned her attention to the teenaged Zabrak.

"Don;t hurt him. He is just a child," the older zabrak said in basic. "Please spare his life, take mine instead and let the boy go...." before he could say anything else the hunters that had brought him there both stabbed him with their wrist blades, instantly killing him.

"Noooo!" yelled the younger one.

"Yes we could...bring him close to me and hold the little renegade still...." she laughed ignoring as the young one yelled angrily at them.

The three hunters brought him closer to her, holding his horned head still.

"Hello little zabrak, my name is Soola. What is your name?" she said very loudly and clearly as she could in basic but still she had the the strong predator accent of which she was sometimes ashamed, when she thought about it. Butt his was not cultured company, and the other three hunters laughed.

The only reply she got was in Zabrakian, and sounded like cursing too. The hunters laughed, the harsh sounds echoing throuout the barren land.

"Watch this" she told the others as she slowly took off her mask revealing a surprisingly humanoid face. The |abrak looked into her bright green shiny eyes, then seeing the casual cruelty that filled them turned away quickly.

"Make him look at me!" Soola commanded the other three hunters. They held the Zabrak's head up higher so he was looking directly into Soola's eyes.

Soola slowly leant forward opened her fanged mouth licked and roughly kissed the Zabrak who immediently began fighting back, Soola ran her green clawed hands on both sides of his face... "What is your name?" she asked again impatiently, as she gave him another slimy lick.

"The old one, when we captured him told us this ones name was 'Khamier'..." said one of the hunters.

"Ahh. So nice to meet you Khamier," Soola hissed releasing the young one, and he glared at her with hate filled eyes, as she smirked back at him.

"Bring him to my quarters..." Soola said motioning to the two hunters that held him. Soola stepped up into her lodgings with the two hunters and prisoner following, and she went and sat on her sleeping couch. Soola told the other two hunters to do something in predator language, and they quickly pulled the young Zabrak's pants down, revealling his private parts. Soola just cackled and pointed, while the other two began assulting him.

"Where is the rest of it?" joked one hunter.

"He is still immature," said the other hunter "He yet still has to become a adult...but still able to produce seed since hes nearing manhood". They then pushed the Zabrak over towards Soola, who laughed and shifted her legs slightly as the Zabrak continued to try to get away.

"Shall we create a new species?" asked one of the hunters shoving him against Soola who had stood up as the other two pressed the Zabrak even harder at her. One of the hunters continued assulting him. Suddenly the younger zabrak kicked one of the hunters in the shin causing them to let go of his head. And he took the opportunity to headbutt Soola right in the chin. She let out a roar as she fell over backwards in surprise and anger. The hunter soldiers let go of the Zabrak to help up their superior, as the Zabrak escaped off into the desert...with a hunter following in hot pursuit.

"Let him go....we will deal with that one in the future.." Soola said standing up watching the young zabrak sprint off into the distance....

------------------

Soola stood up and took off her oxygen mask and put her hand up to the scar where she had on her chin. She heard a beeping noise over on the console, the signal for an approaching ship. Strange she thought usually it would take longer than than for more hunter troops to arrive. Suddenly the hologram device activated itself and Soola reconized the familiar form of one of her ex boyfriends- Maldor d'Viant.....

"Hey there stranger...havent seen you in a while" Soola greeted him sweetly in her predator accent.

Chapter 6 Continued - by Darth Krispies and Professor Fate

“Don’t waste your ship’s weapons on this vessel, Soola. I’m not aboard. It is only here to deliver a message, and an invitation.”

Soola cursed silently to herself as the cool, drawling voice of the Warlord caused a nervous, excited flutter in her oblique frrl-sac. It wasn’t fair that after all this time even a hologram of Maldor should spark such a reaction in her. All that should have been behind her, blotted out by years of seething hatred. All thoughts of the dangerous Zabrak fled as she found her mind cast back to her youth, when she trusted and loved so easily…

They had met on the now-devastated world of Smegma. He was just a young aspiring warrior, flush with the excitement of crushing his first victim system under his booted heel. She had been a virgin huntress, learning her craft, free of the responsibility of followers. She’d been impressed in spite of herself by the sight of his bare, bloodied chest, decorated with a string of severed noses taken from his enemies, blaster in one hand, long knife in the other. All she had intended was to take an impressive trophy, but before she knew what she was doing, she had removed her own protective camouflage and challenged him hand to hand.

They fought like demons, but in the end, the trophy belonged to him. Wrestling her with extraordinary strength to a standstill, he made his victory over her complete when he took her up against a mound of smoking corpses. She could recall vividly how the size of his enormous, cyber-enhanced m’zhhugahst’k made her scream with pleasure as it plunged deeply into her la’afqzt-pouch while his muscular 13-inch tongue wrapped around her left pwibviit. After he was done, she could only lay gasping beneath him, begging silently for more.

For several months they had stayed together, hunting, killing, pillaging, conquering. They made plans to hack out a cozy little corner of the galaxy together where they could rule absolutely, suck the marrow from the bones of their enemies, and perhaps raise a little family. She had never known such bliss could exist, but like all things that seem too good to be true, it was not long before the glow wore off and she began to notice that he did not seem as enraptured with her as he had at the beginning. Not that she ever nagged or accused, but in time it became terribly obvious that the relationship had problems.

She didn’t say a word when he spent ten days in the whore pits on Gommd instead of coming straight back after personally executing 2700 of its leading citizens. She never mentioned the hundreds of concubines he demanded in tribute from Pazatta. She even kept silent when he brought his parents to live with them, too often leaving Soola to entertain them on her own while he went out planet-raping with his friends. But the final straw was the captive he brought back from their final campaign together.

She had gone to Maldor’s luxurious quarters, already suspicious because she had to wipe out a dozen or so of his personal bodyguard who had some foolish idea about keeping her away. Pausing outside his bedchamber, she overheard a strangely-accented voice speaking in passionate tones.

“Ach! Oof! Only for you vould I be a girly-man! Oof! More, more, mein warlord! Show me the Riddle of Steel!”

Bursting through the doorway, Soola saw it was even worse than she feared; it was a human! A weak, pasty, nasty, unenhanced human! How low could he go? The couple on the bed froze, Maldor’s arms and cyber-tentacles wrapped in passionate embrace about the bronzed, muscular figure crouched beneath him. Soola’s eyes took in the scene – the huge sword leaning against the wall, the animal-skin loincloth flung carelessly into the corner, the vial of Kalva’an Klyyne’s “Barbarian Nights” scented unguent on the bedside table – and flung herself on them with a scream of rage.

Maldor had stood back, letting her vent her anger on the unfortunate Teutonic muscle-boy. When she had finished, she turned back to her erstwhile lover, tossing the head of his former bed-mate from hand to hand as she waited for an explanation. She barely heard the cool, unconcerned voice of the being to whom she had given her all as he told her that the relationship was moving too fast, that he was simply not ready to settle down with anyone, and he thought they should see other people.

It was too much, and she had left that night, taking only a ship, her personal trophies, and a planet’s ransom in jewels, no more than she deserved, and enough to set her up with her own followers. And now, finally, after all these years when she could actually go two hours at a time without fantasizing about forcing him to make krabrttaf to her as she slowly chewed off his tresaaqk, he had the nerve to show up again in her life.

The hologram had been waiting for a response. She finally pushed her anger back enough to say, “An invitation, darling? How lovely. Do say on.”

The hologram unfroze and the hated voice continued. “I’ve often thought over the years about what a pity it was that we couldn’t stay friends. We worked well together, didn’t we? That is why I would like to invite you and your little band of followers to join me in 20 days standard for a discussion about expanding my influence in the galaxy. There will be a number of new faces along with some familiar ones in attendance. All the best people will be there. I do hope you’ll come. You know the place – you helped me choose it.”

The hologram ended, and Soola stood still for a moment, her mind in turmoil. The potential for power, carnage and the renewal of an old and disturbing relationship was too much to refuse. Twenty days would be plenty to gather reinforcements and make it to Maldor’s stronghold in the D'jestyv system in time for his little soiree.

Chapter 7 by DarthKrispies and Professor Fate: Sith Happens.

Marko “Long Gone” Silpher stepped over one broken chair, two puddles of used beer, and three drunks on his way to switch off the “Bucket O’ Ichor Bar ‘n Grill – Dining Dancing Cocktails” sign outside his establishment and lock the front entrance in preparation for it’s semi-annual cleaning. He cast a filmy multi-segmented eye on the humanoid hunched over the bar nursing a weak ale and an injured ego. Robi “The Crusher” Bingo had been sulking for hours, ever since he’d failed to score with that curvy blonde female who’d been in looking for directions. Long Gone had cut him off the hard stuff a while before in the hope that Crusher would be sober enough to help out with the clean-up required by the Hygiene Department Inspector. He was generally pretty useless but could be counted on to haul out the bodies and lift heavy things on command. Cheaper than droid labor, too.

“Hey Crush, git your hairy white human ass offa that bar and start moving these guys into the back alley. We needta have this place open again by happy hour,” Long Gone rasped.

Crusher muttered something that sounded obscene, but swilled back the rest of his drink and began to ponderously straighten up. Long Gone started to maneuver the obstacle course back to the bar but stopped when he heard a rap on the reinforced front window behind him. Turning, he saw a figure swathed in black, face hidden in the shadow of a hooded cloak. Shaking his head, Long Gone yelled “We’re Closed!” and waved the figure away. A second later, he heard the click of the lock and a loud crash as the front door slammed open. The figure stepped inside.

“Not to me” the faceless one said. At his gesture, the door slid shut again and locked itself.

Long Gone took a couple steps back, knocking over a flimsy table in his haste to get away from the menacing apparition, his thoughts on the illegal blaster concealed under the bar for just this sort of occasion.

“Hey, hey, mister. This is a mostly respectable place. We don’t want no trouble.” His voice quavered a little, and he risked a quick look over his shoulder at Crusher to see if the big man had caught up with events. Unfortunately, Crusher was several minutes behind the times as usual, watching the newcomer with no more than the sullen hostility with which he regarded everyone else. Long Gone would get no help from him for a while. He turned back to see black-gloved hands push the hood back, revealing a bald, heavily tattooed head encircled with horns, and feral yellow and red eyes. After the sort of customers Long Gone saw on a daily basis, this face was downright homey. Until it smiled.

Long Gone swallowed with some difficulty and made an attempt at a smile of his own. He could tell it was a ghastly failure. “Um, I could prob’ly git you a drink if you want mister, but then I really got to close up.”

The stranger stepped forward, a slight gesture sending a table to crash against the far wall with shattering force. “I do not require a drink. I require information.”

The yellow eyes stared into Long Gone’s, seeming to grow until they blotted out the rest of the room. He thought that it would be all for the best to tell this stranger anything he wanted to know. After all, it wasn’t like Long Gone had anything to hide, right? He heard himself say, as if from a great distance, “What can I tell you, master, uh, mister?”

“I seek a girl” came the reply.

Long gone answered dreamily “A girl? Sure thing. Go out the back door, down to the third door on the left, ring the bell twice, and tell the woman who answers that Long Gone sent you.”

“Idiot! Not that sort of girl, I need to know about a girl who was in your establishment earlier, a young female human, probably dressed considerably better than your usual clientele, yellow haired, with large, er,” the stranger broke off and made a gesture with both hands in front of his chest.

“Oh her. Yeah, she was here. Didn’t see her much, but Crusher over there had a nice long chat with her,” Long Gone said.

The stranger turned his gaze to the humanoid at the bar. “I see. Perhaps I will have a drink after all. Go and prepare a…,” the stranger thought for a second, “a triple Hyperdrive Braindismantler with a shot of New Peculiar on the side.”

Long Gone frowned fuzzily. “I think I got the stuff in the back for one of those, but it will take a while to make.”

The stranger gave him a second bladder-loosening smile and said, “Take your time.”

Long Gone shuffled off hastily to the back room, experiencing the oddest feeling of having narrowly avoided disaster. Crusher watched him go, then turned his attention to the puny guy approaching the bar.

He was half a head shorter than Crusher, but somehow he seemed to take up more space. Seating himself on the barstool next to Crusher, he regarded him quizzically. For a moment he said nothing, while Crusher tried to get his eyes to focus on the being’s face. Between the tattoos and Crusher’s vision being at the far end of a night of drinking, it wasn’t easy.

Finally the creature said, “I believe you have something you wanted to tell me?”

Crusher frowned. He didn’t recall saying anything like that, but the shorter person in black seemed to be expecting something.

“Dunno.” Crusher mumbled. “Don’t think so.”

The creature in black seemed surprised by this. “Really?” he said. “I was assured that you – oh, no. What is he doing here?” he asked, looking beyond Crusher’s shoulder into the shadowed far side of the room.

Crusher turned to look, but saw no one there. He felt a light touch on his right forearm and when he turned back there was a small device clinging to the skin of his thick, hairy wrist. In the center was a small red light that pulsed gently. He reached for it, but the tattooed creature slapped his hand away.

“No, don’t touch it,” he said. “It will kill you if it’s taken off without being deactivated. You’re probably starting to feel a tingle in your arm. That’s the nerve disruptor starting to work.”

Crusher did in fact feel something, like an itch, but under the skin. “Whaa--?” he managed to say.

“It’s just a little something I whipped together to make it easier to talk to people,” the black one said. “It starts by paralyzing the extremities, eventually working up to the lungs and finally the heart. If I leave it on you’ll die in excruciating agony. But we still have a few moments before then, so let’s spend them pleasantly. Tell me about the girl you were talking to a while ago.”

Crusher’s arm felt as if it were covered in crawling ants, stinging and itching. The feeling was moving to his underarm and side. “Whaa--?” he said again.

The red/yellow eyes bored into his. “That really won’t help. You need to tell me about the girl you were talking to earlier. You know the one I mean.”

Crusher tried to move away, but his legs wouldn’t lift and he could only twitch his left side. “She…she was real pretty,” he managed to say.

“So I’ve been told. Was she alone?”

The stinging was beginning to envelop Crusher’s right leg. “Hey…this hurts, you know?”

The black one nodded sagely. “I do know. Don’t worry. You still have several minutes before the pain is too great for you to speak. Was she alone?”

Crusher grimaced through the pain, sweat beading on his furrowed brow. “There…there was the squid guy. He was with her.”

Hmmm. This was new. A Mon Calamari. That would be Akbar, the nitwit. He asked, “Did they say where they were going?”

It felt like both Crusher’s legs were covered in ants, and his toes were starting to twitch uncontrollably. “Going...?” he forced out.

The stranger shook his head at that. “You really don’t have the time to make me repeat myself. Did. They. Say. Where. They. Were. Going.”

“No,” he hissed. But they left with Phookah.” He tried to laugh but could only wheeze. “They thought she was real nice.”

“And they were mistaken, I gather. Tell me about Phookah. Be quick about it if you want to live.”

Crusher tried to move, but he could do no more than turn his neck. His hands were glued to the bar and he couldn’t lift his feet. The tingling in both his arms was starting to turn to a burning and his breath came in gasps.

“She’s a slaver, “ he hissed. “She’s the worst.” His head lolled as his tried to shake it in denial. “People she takes away don’t come back.”

The stranger came closer to look into Crusher’s eyes. “You haven’t much time. Where is Phooka now?”

“Don’t know!” Crusher forced out. “But…but her place is by the spaceport, bay 97!” He could barely force air into his chest, each breath was more of an effort than the last. “But it won’t help! People that goes after her…they don’t come back either!”

The stranger in black shook his head at that. “How distressing. Still,” he touched the device on Crusher’s wrist. There was a snap and the red light stopped pulsing, and the tingling, burning pain was blown out like a candle. At once his muscles were as limp as water and he slid off the barstool onto the floor, where he lay twitching and gasping for breath.

The stranger stood up, seeming to notice for the first time that his drinks had been delivered. Long Gone stood silent, by the Hyperdrive Braindismantler with the shot of New Peculiar on the side. The stranger regarded the taller drink, with it’s steaming blue and green layers, the umbrella and the section of some thorny fruit wedged onto the rim of the glass.

Then he picked up the shot and tossed it back. Replacing the shotglass on the bar, he gave a slight smile to the silent bartender. He turned away as if to leave, then seemed to remember something and turned back.

He reached down to the inert form of Crusher, picked the device off of his wrist and slapped it onto his own, where it began to pulse once again. It wasn’t a very good wristwatch, but he’d still prefer not to lose it.

***

More darn corridors, thought Panasia as she was pulled along by a burly crewmember who ignored her struggling and indignant facial expressions. At least the last time she was in this position she had the promise of sweet ravishment at the hands of her dark prince waiting for her, but who knew what lay at the end of this captivity? She didn’t think she would like it nearly as much, whatever it was.

The crewbeing stopped at a heavily reinforced door and stabbed a code into the keypad next to it. As it slid back, he thrust her inside, pushing her to the back and grabbing the arm of the cell’s occupant, a curvy, dark-haired young woman in a skin-tight catsuit. As he pulled her to one side, Panasia heard her say, “I sense that you are nervous about something. I’m a counselor, maybe I can help…” The voice abruptly stopped when the crewmember snatched the silencing collar off of Panasia’s neck and closed it around the young woman’s throat. He pulled her out of the cell and the door slid shut and locked behind them.

Panasia ran to the door and pummeled her fists against it uselessly, not because she thought it would open, but because that was the thing you were supposed to do in situations like these. After a moment of futility, she threw herself bodily against it, undecided about whether to scream, curse, or weep.

As she leaned silently, she was startled by a voice that said “Well, hel-lo there. You’re certainly an improvement over the last girl.”

Panasia turned and saw for the first time that one wall of her cell was transparent, and in the adjoining cell was the most remarkable man she had yet seen (not that this was saying much, considering the number of humanoid males she had seen close up could be counted without removing her shoes). Two meters tall, broad shouldered, golden skinned, with long, flowing golden locks, only slightly darker than her own. He looked exactly the way her stories had always described a hero. She suddenly realized she wasn’t breathing and let out a long sigh. Gosh, if only he had tattoos and horns, he’d be perfect! But who was he, and why were they there?

Chapter 8 by Dark Lady: Panasia And The Porn Star.

Panasia flashed a brilliant smile and struck a womanly pose - hand on hip and hip thrust forward just a little, and her chest thrust forward quite a lot - and replied. "Well, 'hel-lo' to you too!" At the same time, she fluttered her long dark eyelashes, and was intently curious as to exactly what this improvement might consist of.

The lovely-but-not-quite-perfect humanoid male languidly rose from his bench, and strolled over to the wall dividing the two cells. He leaned on the transparent wall, with a somewhat casual air, and she saw him try not to look at her chest, but he couldn't take his eyes off it. She opened her eyes wide, "Krayte got your tongue?" she said, pushing her chest out a little more.

The male licked his lips, (and she saw his tongue seemed to be extraordinarily long...) and he tapped the transparasteel partition with his nails. "Pity about this..." he murmured, with a shy grin.

She leaned up against the wall herself, in such a position that he had no option but to look down at her thrusting breasts, which now threatened to burst out of the tight lavender tunic. The power of using her body in this way was quite amusing, and she was beginning to enjoy it. She thought he might start slavering soon.

"Why is that? And how am I an improvement?" Innocence wreathed her face and she edged a little closer to the wall.

"Well, you know... We could practice and all. That other girl... All she did was talk." He waved his hand in the vague direction of the door to the cell. "Couldn't get a word in edgeways. Mind you, never could stand career women. You don't have a career, do you?" He had a wistful air when he said this, and he looked at her chest, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Well," she daid, unsure of what a career was, "I don't think so."

"You don't think so?" The male looked uneasy. "Well, how do you earn your living then?"

"I live with my uncle!" she said.

"Oh, I see," and the man laughed. "Your uncle. Ha ha. First time I've heard it called that." He leered at her. "So you know about life and such, then."

"Of course," she replied loftily. "My uncle has looked after me and had me tutored very carefully. I was educated at the convent of The Holy Force, and got an honours in gymnastics."

A keen look came into his eyes and he leaned closer - if possible - to the wall. In a conspiratorial manner he asked, "So you have great flexibility?"

"Oh absolutely! you wouldn't believe the positions I can get into."

His mouth was open now and he nodded his head as he looked at her chest. Somewhat to her dismay, a string of spittle wound it's way slowly out of his mouth, and crept down his shirt front, as he regarded her chest in what she assumed was admiring silence. He recollected where he was, and quickly wiped his mouth again. Then he turned away and sat down again on his bench.

"Well, hey, we just might meet tomorrow sometime. Perhaps we don't need practice."

"Practice at what! I don't need practice at anything!" she shouted at him, as he lay down and turned away from her.

"Get some sleep," he said, voice muffled by the thin blanket he had pulled around his body. "It will be a hard day tomorrow."

She was about to utter a stinging retort, but a guard tramped outside the door, shouted "Lights out!" and then the lights did go out.

With a pout, she fumbled her way to her own bench, found her own thin blanket, and lay down and went to sleep. In no time at all, it seemed, she was dreaming of smooth hands, sharp horns, and black and red babies.

***

The spaceport was deserted at this late hour. Ground crews had finished their tasks for the day, shipcrew were carousing and whoring at the local taverns, and even the local police were taking it easy. Not that any came round here too often, if they were wise, thought Maul, as he negotiated the speeder round a power pylon close to the perimeter. This was the rough end of the spaceport, where shady characters who lived on the fringe of society tried to eke out a living. Or if they were pirates, slavers, and drug-runners, kept a low profile while they negotiated their dubious deals.

High numbered bays were at the back of the spaceport, and were traditionally the preserve of the criminal and dispossessed. Hutched gainst the secure perimeter fence, they were cramped, crowded, and badly lit. This should have led to accidents during takeoff and landing, but paradoxically, the majority of pilots here were superb at their craft, usually better than Republic Navy trained pilots. Approaching bay 97, Maul parked the speeder behind the landing strut of a battered C-240 class freighter, dismounted, and studied the terrain.

The C-240 freighter occupied bay 96. Maul reached out into the Force and checked for life forms inside the ship. There was nothing. A small black insect-like droid crouched motionless at the dimly lit entrance to the open hatchway, a single red light blinking monotonously in the top of its pointed head. He knew that appearances were deceptive. This particular type of droid, innocuous though it appeared, was a state-of-the-art alarm system, armoured so it was virtually indestructible, and packing weaponry of considerable power. Even he would have difficulty neutralising it. He knew, because there were two packed in the hold of his own ship.

The ship in bay 97 was a stark contrast to that in bay 96. Whereas the C-240 was battered, with scratched paintwork, and would have looked at home in a junk-yard, that in bay 97 was a sleek gleaming needle of a ship. The hatchway to this one was also open, and although there was nothing stationed at the entrance, he knew there would be alarms of one nature or another, and thought that the best mode of entry might be the brazen stroll-right-up-and-walk-in type.

Walking briskly up the loading ramp as if he owned the ship and all in it, Maul was met by a gleaming protocol droid, in silver and blue livery.

"Can I help you sir?" The voice of the droid was smooth and masculine, deep and perfectly inflected. It inspired trust. Maul regarded it with a level gaze.

"Take me to your mistress."

The droid made a small bow, of the type used when the status of the person being honoured is unknown. "Of course sir. Follow me. I must warn you, however, that any intimation of actions of a hostile nature may result in your annihilation and dispersal of such remains as remain into space."

"What else!" Retorted Maul, wondering why all protocol droids seemed to be long winded.

The droid glided ahead, and Maul duly followed. The ship was richly furnished. Deep red carpet lay on the floor of the narrow dimly-lit corridor, and warm polished wood rails were attached to the satin-finished black metal walls. Every few feet, there was a small alcove displaying an exquisite item of an artistic nature - a miniature bronze statue, a picture, or marble statue. The ambient lighting was soft and low. Small lights were embedded into the carpet along each edge, and the alcoves were illuminated to display their contents to best advantage. Still following the droid he passed a couple of recessed doorways. A low background hum pervaded the whole ship, and he knew that these were powerful engines on stand-by.

The droid stopped in front of another recessed door.

"My mistress is within sir. I would take this opportunity to remind you of my earlier caution concerning your behaviour on-board this ship, and ask you to respect the hospitality extended to you." The droid placed a metal palm on a plate at the side of the door, which slid open smoothly and silently to reveal an elegantly clad human woman of middle years sat at a carved wooden desk, strewn with ledgers, and a datapad.

As the droid exited, saying he would now fetch refreshment, the woman looked up.

"Maulie, babee!" the woman exclaimed, as she rose from her leather upholstered chair.

Maul froze with shock as the woman stretched out her arms and came towards him.

"Hey. Long time no see, honey. Where you been all these years, hey? That time at military college wasn't so bad, was it?"

Revelation struck Maul! By the Force, it was that little hottie from years back, when he had been a young Sith-In-Training at college. They had really had a good time together, because she had an amazing talent for Wushu and making pancakes. He recollected that he loved pancakes. Her arms slid round his neck, and his arms grabbed round her waist. Lips met.

"I was told that Phookah was in this bay," said Maul, after he came up for air.

"Well, yeah, that's my professional name," she said, pulling at his cloak. "I forget, how do you undo this thing?"

"Like this," and Maul pulled at the Sith clasp at his throat, before pulling at her tunic.

During the ensuing activities, he was dimly aware of the droid entering the room, saying, "Oh, pardon, Madame, Sir..." placing a tray of drinks and snacks on the desk at the side of their heads, and leaving with a 'Hmmpph! How rude!'.

Later - much later - Maul was naked in the leather upholstered chair with a similarly naked Phookah, whom, he had known as Melissa, on his lap, when he attempted to start a conversation about the merits of slaving, the easy profits it made, and how he might find a blonde human with a large chest.

"Darling, they are hard to find and in such great demand," said Melissa. "Mind you, only the other day, I found one roaming the Bucket O' Ichor. She was real easy to pick up, but she is the first for months." One hand played with a horn, the other gesticulated to emphasise what she said. Maul was in heaven, and he threaded his free hand in her hair, the other being occupied with yet more pleasant pursuits which involved Melissa's chest. Melissa made an appreciative sound, and scratched the base of the horn more aggressively. He tried to bring his mind back to his mission.

"Melissa," said Maul. "I really need to find that girl. She belongs to my master,"

"Old Palpy?" exclaimed Melissa, forgeting the horn and sitting up rather abruptly.

"That's him! He's going to marry her. She's quite wealthy, apparently, and you know his lifestyle." Palpatine truly liked to spend money, and he wasn't too bothered where it came from, either..

"Oh. So presumably he wants her untouched, a virgin, and all that."

"Sort of," said Maul, who was not going to let anyone know that he had already sorted that aspect of his master's marriage.

"He gets pretty ratty when he doesn't get his own way, doesn't he?"

"You could say that."

"Hmm. I sold her to Paakgui. She was commissioned for the late show, 'Coming Attractions'."

Maul groaned. 'Coming Attractions' was a late night hard porn show, beamed to the whole of the galactic capital and most of the occupied planets. Repeats were many. It's host was a tall, well-built blonde humanoid male, with the stamina of an ox and a legendary tongue. Like as not, Panasia would be deflowered in a multitude of imaginative ways, in front of most of Coruscant and the civilised galaxy, for quite some years. It was quite possible that 'Coming Attractions' was a favourite of Palapatine's.

"Well darling, the next show starts at midnight. We'd better go and get her, before any damage is done."

To be continued...

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