Transformations

BY : handcuffgirl
Category: Star Wars (All) > FemSlash - Female/Female
Dragon prints: 2073
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, or any of the characters in this fic, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Authoress's notes: Thanks to Das Flute for all his suggestions and editing! The following story takes place after my Imperial Prostitute & Jedi Submissive series, and after the Fate of the Jedi books. If I may retcon some, in this and my future stories, Jaina, Tahiri, Tenel Ka, and the others never served in the Imperial ProCorps, and the Jedi have never heard of it. Jaina did briefly serve as Daala's Jedi Liaison, until Ta'tan'ia took over that role. Both, as well as Syal Antilles, served her sexually as well. Please read and enjoy all of my stories, and vote me a five! Also, please leave me feedback, public or via email. ahandcuffgirl(at)yahoo(dot)com

 

Tahiri Veila: Transformations

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Part I: Bounty Hunter ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Tahiri strode down the quiet street, towards her nearby ship. This part of the spaceport was mostly deserted at the moment. In fact, besides a Rodian passed-out against a wall a dozen meters or so ahead, she only sensed one other being nearby. Unfortunately that being had been tailing her for a while, and seemed to be ready to finally confront her.

 

“Tahiri Veila, in the name of the Galactic Alliance, you are under arrest,” her tail announced in a determined-sounding voice from several meters or so behind her.

 

Tahiri let out a small sigh. She had sensed the Jedi quite a while ago, and had hoped to avoid him. It wasn't that she was afraid or anything, it was just that she didn't know him, and didn't want him to do something dumb, like try to enforce the arrest warrant that was still technically active for her.

 

“Toss your weapons away, put your hands on your head, and drop down to your knees,” the assured voice of the Jedi instructed her.

 

Now Tahiri let out a little smirk. Like that was going to happen, no matter who was behind her. In spite of his determined-sounding tone, she could sense his uncertainty in the Force. She paused a moment, then slowly turned to face him.

 

She didn't recognize the Jedi. He was a human male, perhaps nineteen or twenty years old, with short dark hair. He was wearing a typical brown Jedi robe, with lighter color Jedi garb underneath it. His feet were about shoulder width apart, with his right hand near his lightsaber, which fortunately was still on his belt.

 

Tahiri, by contrast, was wearing an armored black and dark gray body suit, with a long black nerfhide coat over it. She had full-grade black beskar armor over her torso—a gift from Boba Fett after they had teamed up against Abeloth. She also had full-grade beskar plates—black to match her torso armor—around her upper arms, forearms, thighs, and shins. That armor she had gotten on her own. Her half-finger gloves had beskar protecting her knuckles as well.

 

Boba Fett had also given her a full-grade beskar collar that was six centimeters wide, allegedly for protection. While the collar was useful for that purpose, Tahiri mostly wore it because she liked it. It was black as well, to match her chest armor.

 

Unlike Mandalorian mercenaries, Tahiri didn't have electronics and weapons built into her armor. She trusted in the Force far more than whatever surprises the Mando programmers might try to slice in.

 

Her own lightsaber was on her nerfhide belt, horizontal at the small of her back. Her favorite blaster was on her hip, and a carbine was slung across her back. She also had a full-grade beskar knife on her left thigh and a smaller vibroblade on the inside of her left forearm.

 

Unlike Mandalorians and a lot of other bounty hunters, Tahiri didn't like to carry around an excessive amount of weapons. She only had her carbine because she had been out hunting a bounty. She also had a couple sets of stun-cuffs, and twenty meters of fibercord.

 

Tahiri rolled her eyes in annoyance, and gave him a hard look. “Does Master Skywalker know what you're doing?” she asked him. She was careful to keep her hands visible, as she didn't want him to do anything rash.

 

Now the earnest young Jedi flashed a look of uncertainty. “What do you mean?” he asked, his hand on his lightsaber. “Of course Master Skywalker knows what I'm doing. He assigned me here to be a guardian of peace and justice.”

 

Tahiri sighed. “Look; Master Skywalker and I have an agreement. I don't turn to the dark side, or kill too many innocent people, and the Jedi leave me alone.”

 

The young Jedi considered that a moment. “Master Skywalker would never make a deal with a Scumbag Sith Assassin like you,” he declared. “Now toss your weapons away; slowly. I'm taking you in to face justice for what you've done.” As he spoke, he began deliberately walking towards her.

 

Scumbag Sith Assassin? Now Tahiri was insulted. She had been a lot of things in her life. Tusken Raider. Yuuzhan Vong. Pain Slut. Killik Joiner . . . she guessed Sith Assassin too. But Scumbag?

 

Still, she didn't want to hurt him if she didn't have to. She definitely couldn't let him take her to the local authorities—who would probably do everything they could to enforce the galaxy-wide arrest warrant.

 

“Please, just comm Master Skywalker, and he'll explain everything,” she implored him, using the Force to add a little pressure to the request.

 

“Of course,” he agreed with a nod as he continued approaching her. “After I have you in custody where you belong.” With that he pulled his lightsaber off his belt, and ignited it. “Now toss your weapons away, and drop down to your knees. You are under arrest.”

 

Tahiri let out another sigh. He certainly seemed to be determined to be a good little Jedi today. Still, maybe she could make him see reason. He was only a few meters away from her now.

 

“Please comm Master Skywalker or one of the other Masters before someone gets hurt,” she asked him again, using the Force to influence his mind. As she spoke, she reached for her own lightsaber at the small of her back. There was no way she was letting him arrest her.

 

As she pulled it out, he swung his blade towards her wrists. It was a pretty slow strike for a Jedi Knight. Tahiri wasn't sure if he was holding back, or if his skills were just as bad as they seemed. At least he didn't seem to be trying to kill her outright though.

 

Tahiri effortlessly blocked the strike, then, at less-than-full-speed, kicked out at his feet, which he easily leapt to avoid, as she had planned. In mid-air he flicked his lightsaber towards her wrists again.

 

Tahiri instantly stepped past his blue blade, drove her elbow into his chest, and heard a satisfying grunt as the air went out of him. As he came down, she grabbed his right arm, and slammed his wrist on her armored thigh. She heard an even more satisfying crunch as his lightsaber fell out of his hand.

 

She quickly followed that up with a measured strike to his temple with the hilt of her lightsaber, knocking him unconscious.

 

Tahiri ran through a Jedi calming technique as she took a few deep breaths. The Jedi was lying on his back. She had one knee in his chest, and one hand gripping his forearm above his broken wrist. She shut down her lightsaber, and put it on her belt. Then she located his weapon on the duracrete a meter or so away, and summoned it to her waiting hand.

 

Before she had been interrupted, Tahiri had planned on going to her ship, and meditating on the location of the bounty she was tracking. She couldn't leave the Jedi unconscious in a seedy spaceport though. After another deep breath, she picked him up, slung him over her shoulder, and carried him towards her ship.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Once she secured her ship—and her Jedi—Tahiri retrieved a bacta-splint from her medical supplies. Then, while he was still unconscious, she put it on his wrist. Next she secured his wrists—in front of him—with her stun-cuffs. After that she relieved him of his identichit and other items she found on him. Now she had to contact someone and find out why an over-eager Jedi was trying to arrest her.

 

Since she was a wanted fugitive, Master Skywalker didn't want her to comm the Temple directly. That wasn't really a problem since she had several Masters' direct comm codes. In less than a minute she was in contact with Jedi Master Jaina Solo.

 

“Hey Tahiri,” Jaina greeted her with a smile.

 

The Jedi Master appeared to be slightly out of breath, like she had just been working out, or training. Since she was wearing a jumpsuit and not a sports bra and hotpants, Tahiri suspected the latter.

 

“Master Solo,” Tahiri replied with her own, tight smile. “I see you're training, I'll try not to keep you too long.”

 

“It's no problem,” the young Jedi Master answered with a dismissive wave. Her durasteel comlink was visible on her wrist. “Just sparring with Ta'tan'ia a little.”

 

Tahiri knew that Ta'tan'ia was a Twi'lek, and had served the former Chief of State as under the title of Jedi Liaison, which mostly consisted of being her personal secretary, errand girl, maid, and sex slave. She assumed the sparring session was more of a training session, since Ta'tan'ia wasn't known to be very good with a lightsaber.

 

Tahiri promptly moved her holoemitter so the knocked-out Jedi was in the field. “Does this belong to you?” she asked, gesturing towards the unconscious figure propped up against the wall. “His ID-chit says his name is Wyric Torrin,” she explained.

 

“Yes, that's Jedi Torrin,” Jaina replied with a frown. “What happened to him?”

 

“He tried to arrest me, then he came at me with a lightsaber. I broke his wrist, knocked him out, then brought him to my ship and put a bacta-splint on his arm,” Tahiri explained to Jaina.

 

“And binders,” Jaina commented absently.

 

Before Tahiri could respond, her would-be-arrester spoke.

 

“I was trying to arrest this escaped prisoner, and she attacked me, knocked me out, and kidnapped me,” Jedi Torrin countered as he regained consciousness.

 

“I asked him to please comm Master Skywalker, as we had an agreement,” Tahiri calmly informed her. “Instead he came at me waving his lightsaber. I took him down as quickly as I could.”

 

“She's a wanted criminal,” Wyric insisted as he tried to sit up, which resulted in him wincing noticeably. “And you broke my wrist,” added painfully.

 

“And I could have left you unconscious in the middle of the street,” Tahiri replied calmly.

 

“Thank you for providing Jedi Torrin medical assistance, Tahiri,” Jaina stated, to Wyric's obvious surprise. “I hope he didn't cause too many problems?”

 

“Not really,” Tahiri answered with a shrug. She paused, glanced back at the cuffed Jedi on her deck, then back to Jaina's hologram. “He's not much of a swordsman,” she told her friend. “I hope this isn't a typical product of the Jedi Academy these days?”

 

“Hey!” Wyric replied indignantly.

 

Jaina let out a soft chuckle. “Not everyone can be Master Skywalker or Master Katarn,” she responded. “As matter of fact, he's one of Master Hamner's,” she explained, nodding towards Jedi Torrin.

 

“Oh,” Tahiri said, nodding her head in understanding. While that might not explain his lack of skills with a lightsaber, that did explain his insistence on trying to arrest her. “Well, can you tell him to stay away from me?” she asked.

 

“No problem,” Jaina answered cheerfully. She turned to Wyric, and said, “Jedi Torrin, when Tahiri releases you you are to leave her ship, and leave her alone, is that understood?”

 

“But she's an escaped prisoner with a galaxy-wide warra—”

 

I said, is that understood, Jedi Torrin?” Jaina repeated firmly.

 

“Yes Master Solo,” he answered resignedly.

 

“If you have any questions, feel free to contact Grand Master Skywalker, or anyone else on the Council, but don't bother Tahiri anymore,” Jaina added. “Just forget you ran into her.”

 

“As much as you can while nursing a broken wrist,” Tahiri couldn't help but adding with a smug grin.

 

Wyric shot her a dirty look, then turned his attention back to the hologram. “Yes Master Solo,” he answered with a small nod.

 

“Thanks, Jaina,” Tahiri told her with a friendly smile.

 

“No problem,” the Jedi Master replied with her own smile, quickly turning her attention back to her. “And if you ever want to come back to the Order, I'm sure you'll be welcome.”

 

“Thanks,” Tahiri responded sincerely. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I like bounty hunting.”

 

“Well, keep it in mind,” Jaina said. “We'll even let you train Jedi Torrin there in lightsaber technique.”

 

Tahiri glanced back at the Jedi, who had risen to a sitting position, then back to Jaina. “I'm not sure if that's a pro or a con,” she explained wryly.

 

Jaina chuckled in response. They exchanged goodbyes, and Tahiri shut down the connection. Then she turned back to her would-be-arrester.

 

“Sorry about the wrist,” she told him.

 

He stared back at her a few heartbeats before replying. “Don't mention it.” He paused again, and glanced down. “Can you take these off me now?” he asked, raising his cuffed wrists a bit.

 

“Hell no,” Tahiri answered. “I know plenty of people that will pay big for a Jedi.”

 

Wyric's eyes went wide with shock. “You wouldn't do that,” he replied, quickly regaining his composure.

 

Tahiri eyed him a few seconds. “Lucky for you,” she finally responded. After a couple of seconds of silence, Tahiri tapped her wrist comlink a couple of times, unlocking the binders.

 

Her wrist comlink, which was maglocked around her right wrist, was black durasteel, and six centimeters wide, just like her collar. A matching chrono was maglocked around her left wrist. While a wrist comm was practical for several reasons—you couldn't really accidentally leave it on a table at a restaurant or something—she mainly wore her cuffs for the same reason she wore her beskar collar. She liked the feeling of hard metal around her neck and wrists.

 

Once he was free, Jedi Torrin climbed to his feet, careful of his injured arm. “My lightsaber?” he asked, holding out his good hand.

 

Tahiri rolled her eyes and sighed again, this time in mock annoyance. Then she produced his lightsaber, and tossed it to him. “I suppose you want your ID and credits back too?”

 

“Yes!” he replied with an indignant frown.

 

She gave him the rest of his stuff, and idly played with her binders while he sorted it out.

 

“So you've got a Mando partner?” Wyric asked, gesturing towards the red helmet sitting on a shelf nearby as he pocketed his credit chits.

 

Tahiri followed his eyes to the Mandalorian helmet, then looked back at the Jedi.

 

“Not anymore,” she answered.

 

“What happened?” Wyric asked curiously.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

A few months earlier . . .

 

Tahiri was awoken by a sudden sense of danger from the Force. She opened her eyes in time to see a grenade coming through the open hatchway a few meters away. Almost instinctively, she reached out with the Force and pushed it back towards the opening.

 

Even though the door had only been open a handful of centimeters—and opening wider—when the grenade had come through, somehow it closed again before she could get the grenade back out. It hit against the closing door, and fell to the deck.

 

In a split-second Tahiri reached out with the Force, clenching one fist, to contain the grenade blast. At the same time, she grabbed her beskar chest plate with her other hand, and held it in front of her. A moment later the grenade exploded.

 

Tahiri barely had time to realize that it was only a stun-grenade before her cabin door opened again, and someone began firing blaster bolts in at her. When the first shot hit the beskar armor, she realized they were stun bolts. She also realized that it was her partner Kad'ika—now former partner—who was shooting at her. Tahiri hurled the armor at him, and grabbed her lightsaber from underneath her pillow.

 

As she charged towards her opponent, she deflected another bolt into the floor with her lightsaber. In a flash she was through the door, and facing off with a fully armored Mandalorian bounty hunter in the corridor. Tahiri, in contrast, was barefoot, and only wearing a gray tank top and black panties. Her chrono, a six centimeter wide durasteel cuff was on her left wrist, and a matching comlink was around her right. However, Tahiri had the Force as her ally, which more than made up for her attire.

 

Kad'ika was back-pedaling as he continued firing at her. Tahiri calmly deflected what were now kill shots back at him. She could sense his panic through the Force. While still firing, he suddenly reached for the miniature flame-thrower on his right forearm.

 

As the jet of flame came out, Tahiri used the Force to shove it back towards him. She flashed an evil grin as the fire engulfed him. With the Force, she fed the fire, intensifying it, and keeping it close to his body. He fired wildly at her in response. Tahiri kept her lightsaber in front of her, but none of the bolts came close enough to bother with.

 

After just a few seconds though, her ship's fire-suppression system kicked in. Tahiri knew she couldn't keep the flames going with it activated, so she quickly switched tactics, and made him think he was being burned alive.

 

With real flames all around, it was no problem to make him think his skin was literally peeling off. Tahiri quickly intensified the feeling of being burnt. She also added the urge to take off his armor to relieve the pain. He dropped his blaster carbine, and began yanking at his helmet. She took a couple of steps, and was in the air flying towards him as his helmet came off.

 

Her lightsaber blade sliced through his head about the level of his mouth. Tahiri landed on one knee just behind him, with her lightsaber blade extended away from her body, and her head bowed. She heard the top part of Kad'ika's head hit the deck with a thud, then his body a second or so later. She held her pose a few more moments as she ran through a Jedi calming technique. Then she shut down her lightsaber, and turned to examine her handiwork.

 

Five minutes later she had stripped off her former partner's armor and assorted weapons. She made sure to hang on to the full-grade beskar knife. In spite of being exposed to a brief but intense fire, the suit's electronics were largely undamaged.

 

The next thing Tahiri did was go to the cockpit, to find out if Kad'ika had left her anymore surprises. She settled into the pilot's seat, and made sure they were still safely in hyperspace. Then she ran a diagnostic. Sure enough, the traitorous Mando had tried to upload some programming to take over her ship's computer. Luckily she—through Talon Karrde—had better slicers, who had programmed her ship's computer to defend itself against such intrusion attempts.

 

In less than a minute she had all of Kad'ika's programming flushed. Next Tahiri had her ship's computer check his cabin—and the rest of the ship—for traps. That search came up negative as well.

 

Once Tahiri finished securing her ship, she headed to what had been Kad'ika's cabin. She paused just outside the hatchway, and used the Force to sense danger. After she was satisfied it was safe, she went inside, to see what she wanted to keep.

 

Luckily, Mandalorians didn't normally acquire a lot of belongings. Tahiri quickly cleaned out the stuff she didn't want, and took it to the airlock. Next she dragged Kad'ika and his head to the airlock as well. She closed the inner door, and ejected her former-partner and his trash out into hyperspace.

 

After that Tahiri activated her wrist comlink and summoned the housekeeping droid to clean up the fire suppressant, bits of Kad'ika's brain, blood, and the rest of the mess from the fight. She also left it instructions to go over her cabin, as well as what was now her newly empty cabin. While the droid cleaned up, Tahiri went to the cockpit, and napped in the pilot's chair, just in case.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

The Present . . .

 

“He doesn't need it anymore,” Tahiri explained blandly as she stood up. “And no more questions. It's time for you to go.”

 

Wyric stared at her a second, then slowly climbed to his feet as well. Before he could say anything else Tahiri led him out of the cabin, and down the corridor.

 

“May the Force be with you,” she told him once they reached the top of the ramp.

 

“And you,” Wyric responded with a nod after a brief hesitation.

 

He turned to go, but stopped before he took a step. “You should turn yourself in,” he told her earnestly. “Now that Daala's gone, you'll get a fair trial.”

 

Tahiri considered that a moment. “You're right,” she answered with an air of resignation.

 

She felt Jedi Torrin's surprise through the Force, and saw his mouth open in shock at her announcement. Then she calmly pulled her stun-cuffs off her belt, and locked them around her wrists—over her chrono and comlink—in front of her.

 

Tahiri held her cuffed hands out towards him, and he stared back at her for several seconds.

 

“You're not serious,” he finally stated.

 

“Of course not,” she told him with a grin. “Now get off my ship, so I can find a bounty and make some credits.”

 

Jedi Torrin shook his head in disappointment, then Tahiri watched him turn and head down the ramp.

 

A few meters off the ramp, he paused, turned halfway around, shook his head, then turned back and kept walking. A few seconds after he disappeared from sight, Tahiri closed the ramp, and secured her ship, still wearing her stun-cuffs. Since they were over her comlink, she couldn't unlock them at the moment, not that she was in any hurry to anyway.

 

Next Tahiri went to the cockpit, and took off her boots. Ever since she was a child, she had preferred to go barefoot. For that reason, most of her ship was carpeted. She set her boots aside, and began pulling up everything she had on the bounty she was hunting. Then she turned off the stun feature of her cuffs. She didn't unlock them though; she just didn't want to accidentally stun herself while wearing them.

 

As she stared at her monitors, she mediated on where her bounty was, and how to capture him. She also idly twisted her cuffs, enjoying the feeling of being restrained.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

While Tahiri stayed very busy as a bounty hunter, she didn't go after the biggest bounties. That was mainly because she only accepted bounties to be delivered to legitimate governments. Gangsters and similar scum usually offered the highest rewards, but they always wanted the bounty so they could exact personal revenge for whatever slight, real or imagined, the being had done against them.

 

As an attractive woman and an active bounty hunter, Tahiri had received dozens of offers to be a private bodyguard. She was even offered a thousand credits a day by a multi-billionaire industrialist to protect his son, who mostly spent his days partying and on exotic vacations. She turned them all down though, in order to do something at least somewhat good.

 

Tahiri liked to think she was better than just a bounty hunter. Sure she got paid, but she didn't even necessarily go after the biggest bounties that otherwise met her criteria. She concentrated on the beings that were the most dangerous to society. Tahiri listened to the Force for guidance on who to go after as she looked over lists of active bounties.

 

Another advantage to being an attractive woman was that Tahiri often got information on her bounties a lot easier than other bounty hunters. She was able to walk into a lot of cantinas, smile, chat up the barkeeper or patrons, and quickly find out what she needed to know.

 

With the Force as her ally, Tahiri had no problem finding wanted beings. The problem was turning them in. While she had several sets of top-notch phony identification, she still ran the risk of being recognized when she turned them over to law enforcement.

 

She had, reluctantly, had some minor cosmetic surgery to remove her most distinctive physical feature, the Vee-shaped scars on her forehead she had received from the Yuuzhan Vong as a teenager. The risk of being recognized had just been too great. It was time to move on from that shavit anyway.

 

After Kad'ika betrayed her, Tahiri had gone to Talon Karrde for help in finding another partner. He suggested Kazzok, a Trandoshan, who had been working for him off and on for nearly twenty years.

 

Tahiri vaguely remembered Kazzok from a story Alema Rar had told her years ago. He had helped her infiltrate Schliebak the Hutt's harem, if she remembered correctly. He had also kept her chained up quite a bit, although he wouldn't have sex with her.

 

Unfortunately Kazzok wasn't interested in having a partner. He especially wasn't interested in a human partner who was relatively new to bounty hunting. Only after Karrde told him who his prospective partner was did he accept her.

 

Kazzok insisted that they use his ship though. Karrde agreed to keep Tahiri's in storage, with the understanding that he could occasionally use it if he needed it. Tahiri moved her belongings to Kazzok's ship. Unfortunately the only place he had for her to sleep was his second holding cell. While she didn't sense any deception from him, she made a mental note to always have her lightsaber with her, especially in her new room.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

A few weeks after Tahiri becomes Kazzok's partner . . .

 

Tahiri strolled into the cockpit and sat down in the co-pilots chair.

 

“So Kazzok, what should we do with this one?” she asked as she propped her bare feet up on the console.

 

She was referring to the blue and gray Mandalorian helmet in her hands. The former owner of the helmet had tried to interfere with their latest bounty. He wasn't around anymore.

 

The towering Trandoshan glanced over at her, then reached out and swept her legs off the console with a single clawed hand.

 

Tahiri didn’t even react. “Maybe we can sell it,” she commented, hefting the beskar helmet.

 

“I’m keeping it as a trophy,” Kazzok hissed as he put his forearm back in the control groove.

 

Tahiri rolled her eyes in annoyance. She knew he was going to say that.

 

“We have two whole sets on display already,” she pointed out.

 

Besides the two sets in the trophy room, Tahiri was wearing pieces of a third set of beskar armor. Hers had once belonged to her former partner, who had betrayed her. He wasn't around anymore either.

 

I have two sets in my trophy room,” he corrected her.

 

“There's not even room in there for another set,” she responded.

 

That was certainly true. As a Trandoshan with a bounty hunting career going back several decades, Kazzok had amassed an enormous collection of trophies. In fact, the trophy room was so overrun they could barely get in it.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Nearly two months into her partnership with Kazzok, on a planet named Trallis II . . .

 

Tahiri sat in the booth with her back against the wall, surreptitiously keeping an eye on her bounty, as well as scanning the rest of the cantina. She had been there for nearly half an hour.

 

The mark, one Pajr Urchir, also known by Krayt, was at a table, with three other members of his swoop-bike gang. All four were wearing dirty pants, and nerfhide vests with the Zoloz emblem on the back, and other related patches on them.

 

Krayt was wanted for an assortment of charges including armed robbery, and assault with a deadly weapon. He had a five thousand credit bounty on him—alive.

 

Tahiri was also pretty sure two of the other members of the Zoloz had fifteen hundred credit bounties as well. She hoped to get at least one of them along with Krayt.

 

A few moments later, Kazzok's massive frame was silhouetted in the entranceway. Tahiri slid a bit closer to the open end of the booth, away from the wall.

 

Just as Tahiri and Kazzok had planned, when the four bikers saw him, they got up, and began backing towards the rear exit, right towards Tahiri's booth.

 

Tahiri unholstered her blaster, and put a stun bolt in the middle of the closest biker’s back. The biker grunted, and swung around as he drew his own blaster. Tahiri swore, and shot him in the head.

 

The other three bikers were half-way around now, with their blasters in hand. The cantina's patrons were scrambling out of the way. The biker on her left spotted her. Tahiri slid out of the booth, and dropped to one knee as she fired another stun bolt.

 

From the other side of the cantina, Kazzok fired his blaster carbine at them. One of the bikers fell, and another one fired at Tahiri. She continued to pump rounds into the bikers as she moved. Suddenly one of them broke for the rear exit. Tahiri fired at him, but missed. She swore again, and took off after him.

 

As she reached the rear exit, she felt a flash of warning through the Force. She ducked, and rolled through the exit as a pair of blaster bolts—kill shots—hit the doorway where her chest would have been. She came to a stop on one knee, and fired at the fleeing biker. Her blaster was still set on stun, as the bounty had stipulated live captures.

 

The bolt hit him in the chest. Just like his pal, he grunted, and fired again. Tahiri matched him, and shot his knee. He swore in pain as he dropped. Unfortunately, he kept a firm grip on his blaster, and kept firing. Tahiri quickly scrambled back to the doorway as she returned fire.

 

Tahiri glanced back into the cantina, to see Kazzok facing off against their original bounty, Pajr Urchir. She changed her aim, and fired a bolt into his hips. He dropped, and Tahiri felt a bolt in her shoulder from the other biker. The force of the bolt knocked her back into the door frame behind her. Luckily her armored jumpsuit took the brunt of the shot.

 

She grunted in pain, and fired back on her attacker—who had moved behind a dumpster for his own cover.

 

Kazzok hissed, then, out of the corner of her eye, Tahiri saw him dash for the front exit of the cantina, presumably to flank the biker.

 

Tahiri slid a little more into the doorway as she fired another stun bolt towards the last biker. She fired again, then ducked in as one got a little too close. More than a dozen bolts apiece—an eternity—later Tahiri spotted Kazzok at the front of the alleyway.

 

He paused and fired a pair of stun bolts into the biker crouching behind the dumpster. From Kazzok's reaction, Tahiri could tell the biker was down. She looked back at the three bikers sprawled on the floor of the cantina, to make sure they were still out. Then, she slowly climbed to her feet.

 

Kazzok squatted and disappeared behind the dumpster. When he stood up a few moments later, the biker was cuffed and slung over his shoulder.

 

Tahiri stepped back into the bar, cuffed Pajr, then the other two.

 

“What the frakk was that all about!?" Kazzok hissed at her as he entered the back of the cantina. "What happened to taking out Pajr, and letting the rest go?"

 

Tahiri gave him an apologetic look. "I think these other two are worth fifteen hundred a piece," she explained.

 

"And how the hell do you plan on carrying three bodies to our ship?" Kazzok demanded.

 

"I can take one, and you can take two," she replied as she searched the biker’s pockets.

 

"And who's gonna shoot back at the rest of the Zoloz when they find out we got four of their guys?"

 

Tahiri paused a moment. The plan had been to take down Pajr, then get to their ship before the rest of the biker gang could catch up with them. Carrying three people would slow them down considerably.

 

"Maybe they didn't get off a message?" she suggested.

 

Kazzok hissed in reply.

 

"Let’s just take Krayt and this one," he said, waving his hand at the lighter of the two fifteen hundred credit bikers. "And if we run into trouble, you drop yours, and take care of it.”

 

"No problem," Tahiri replied as she touched temples of both of the bikers they were taking, and put them in a Force nap. Both would stay unconscious until they got them in the holding cells in their ship.

 

Then she tossed the second biker over her left shoulder, wincing from the shot she had taken to her right one. She exchanged a nod with Kazzok, and they left out the back alley.

 

Within minutes of leaving the alley, they were ambushed by four more Zoloz. Just as they planned, Tahiri dumped her biker, and began shooting back with her blaster pistol. Before she could clear an exit path, two more Zoloz arrived on speeder bikes. One of them was carrying a heavy blaster rifle. These two quickly joined the fight on the side of the other Zoloz.

 

One second Tahiri was shooting at a Zoloz crouched behind a speeder, the next she heard a thud, and Kazzok was on the ground, hissing in pain. His agony was was so intense Tahiri had to shut out the Force to stay focused. She looked over to see a large hole in the wall, and Kazzok on the ground nearby, with Pajr Urchir mostly on top of him.

 

Tahiri ran through a Jedi calming technique, and fired several shots at the biker with the heavy blaster. Then she glanced over, and to her astonishment, saw Kazzok pushing the biker off himself, and climbing to his feet. She was even more shocked to see most of his left arm lying on the duracrete. He let out a painful hiss, picked up his blaster, and began shooting back at their attackers.

 

The shot that had severed Kazzok's arm had also went through their five thousand credit bounty's thigh, nearly severing it as well. That pretty much made him worthless, as no law enforcement agency would pay his bounty with such a serious injury.

 

By this point Tahiri had taken out two of the Zoloz, leaving four still in the fight. She also heard more swoop-bikes approaching. Without voicing the plan, she covered Kazzok while he retreated to a good spot, then he covered her while she retreated farther back.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Present . . .

 

After that debacle Kazzok had had to take a long break from bounty hunting while his arm regrew. He also told her he might even retire altogether.

 

That meant that Tahiri was on her own again. At first she wanted to go after the Zoloz for what they'd done, but after meditating for several hours, she realized she couldn't do that. Not because she wasn't capable, but because it would be just for revenge, and that was of the dark side.

 

Somewhat to Tahiri's surprise, Karrde had no interest in seeking retaliation against the Zoloz either. He explained that he didn't have anywhere near the muscle that he once had, and even then he probably wouldn't have gone to war with the largest swoop-bike gang in the Outer-Rim. Kazzok was a grown Trandoshan, who knew what he was doing, Karrde pointed out. He also told her that wars were bad for business, unless of course, you were an arms dealer.

 

Karrde did say that he'd be passing along whatever information he had about the Zoloz' illegal activities to the appropriate law enforcement; anonymously, of course.

 

Tahiri found out from HoloNet News reports that she had killed two of the Zoloz in the firefight, and the one they'd been after, Pajr Urchir, had been severely wounded, and was now in police custody. Even though she had decided not to seek revenge, Tahiri did instruct her ship's computer to highlight all Zoloz members with active bounties, no matter how small, for each system she visited from now on though. She might not necessarily go after them, but she wanted to be aware of them just in case she ran across one.

 

As for the being Tahiri was currently looking for, she wasn't feeling any direction through the Force. He was wanted for attempted kidnapping, aggravated assault and possession of spice. There was a sixty-five-hundred credit bounty on him, alive. After another ten minutes or so, Tahiri reached out with her cuffed hands, and pulled up a list of other active bounties on the planet. If she couldn't find one, then she was confident the Force would lead her to another bounty.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Part II: Kidnapped ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Several weeks, two systems, and nine successful bounties later . . .

 

Tahiri Veila turned to walk out of the so-called antique shop, deep in thought. She had come here looking for information on a bounty, but the shop proprietor didn't know anything useful.

 

As she was about to step through the door, the old man called out to her. She turned her head back, and felt a sudden spike of danger through the Force. She twisted her body, but was knocked off her feet by blaster bolt to her chest.

 

Tahiri hit the floor and slid backwards into a low platform with an ummph. Another blaster bolt hit her thigh. She reached out with the Force as she scrambled to the far side of the platform for cover, behind the front half of the fifty-year-old landspeeder that was sitting on it.

 

Her thigh was mostly numb from the blaster bolt; she was vaguely aware that both shots had been stun bolts, although they felt like they had come from at least a carbine. The first one had hit her beskar chest armor though, and hadn't affected her as much.

 

Since she wasn't expecting to find her prey immediately, and to be a bit less conspicuous, Tahiri had left most of her beskar armor on her ship, along with her favorite blaster carbine. Besides her torso armor, she was just wearing her armored bodysuit and knee boots. Her chrono and comlink were mostly hidden underneath the bodysuit.

 

Several more bolts hit around her as she reached for her own blaster on her thigh. When she pulled it out of its holster, she discovered it had taken some of the stun bolt that had hit her thigh, and was now useless.

 

Frakk. That left her with only her lightsaber, and beskar knife. Well, besides the Force. She could sense at least four people out front. Two of them were only a couple of meters away from the doorway.

 

Tahiri pulled her lightsaber from its place at the small of her back. Before she could ignite it, a stun bolt hit her forearm, sending it flying underneath some low shelves along the wall behind her. She looked towards the rear of the shop and saw three masked gunmen entering.

 

She grunted as another stun bolt hit her shoulder, and two more hit her chest. Flat on her back, Tahiri looked up to see one of the gunmen standing over her, pointing a blaster carbine at her. As he pulled the trigger, she drove her eighteen-centimeter beskar knife into the side of his leg, just behind his shin bone. The stun bolt hit her upper chest, and Tahiri immediately fell into unconsciousness.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

“I told you it was that bounty hunter bitch from Trallis II,” one of the masked gunmen said as he checked out the unconscious woman on the floor.

 

“Yeah,” another one agreed. Then he turned to a third gunman. “Find out who the frakk she is.”

 

The third one nodded, and began searching her pockets.

 

“The old man's dead,” a fourth gunmen commented from behind the counter.

 

“Her name's Terri Rapuung,” the third gunmen said, examining up her identichit. “And she's got a membership card under the same name to the Bounty Hunters' Guild.”

 

“Good, get her, and let's get the frakk out of here,” the second gunman announced.

 

The first and third gunmen quickly put stun-cuffs on her wrists—behind her back. Then they lifted her by her upper arms, and carried her towards the door.

 

Outside the group loaded into a nondescript boxy cargo speeder the other members of the team had brought around. The gunman she had stabbed in the leg was already in the back.

 

“Give her the ryll,” the second gunman said once the doors were closed. “And get her clothes off her.”

 

“Hey, the schutta is wearing a wrist chrono and comlink that look like shackles,” a gunman commented in surprise as he injected her with a dose of glitteryll.

 

“Yeah, I saw that,” the the third gunman answered. He was busy trying to figure out how to remove her torso armor.

 

“Must be a bondage freak,” another one added with an amused chuckle. “Right up your alley,” he added, nodding towards the first gunman.

 

The first gunman barely heard his companion. He had noticed the durasteel around her wrists as well, and was already wondering just how into bondage she really was, and imagining all the things he was going to do to her, whether she was a submissive or not.

 

By now the third gunman had gotten what they thought was durasteel armor off her torso. Then he and the gunman who had injected her took off her boots and socks. Next they quickly uncuffed her, stripped her bodysuit off her arms, then re-cuffed her. After that they finished stripping off her bodysuit, and her black panties, revealing a toned, muscular body that was completely hairless except for her head. All of the swoop-bikers took a moment to admire their new prize.

 

“Frakking schutta,” the gunman Tahiri had stabbed said in disgust. One of his buddies was wrapping a large bandage around his lower leg.

 

“I guess that gives you first dibs on our new slave,” the second gunman said, pulling off his jacket to reveal a nerfhide vest with Zoloz patches on it, including one saying PRESIDENT.

 

“Hey, I'm the one that spotted her,” the first gunman contended, pulling off his jacket to reveal his own Zoloz vest, and his V. PRESIDENT patch.

 

“Come on man,” the wounded swoop-biker interjected, “You'll get plenty of chances to fuck her. Just let me have the first one.”

 

“It's not my fault you let her stab you,” the Vice President replied.

 

As they headed back to their clubhouse, the two Zoloz continued to argue over who would get to have sex with their victim first.

 

Once the gang got their victim safely tucked away in their clubhouse, they attempted to remove her durasteel wrist chrono and comlink. When they couldn't they got black durasteel bands to cover them, and especially to keep her from accessing the controls for her comlink. The bands had the swoop-bike gang's logo on them to show who the former bounty hunter belonged to now.

 

The Zoloz maglocked a five centimeter wide black durasteel shock collar around their new slave's neck. The shock function was there in case she didn't eagerly cooperate with their demands. It also had a tracking device in case she escaped. They hoped not to have to use either feature, but wanted them there just in case. Just like the bands they maglocked onto her chrono and comlink, the collar had the swoop-bike gang's logo on it.

 

They also got a fake ID for her, so she wouldn't accidentally discover who she had been. While they were getting that done, the gang also worked out the story they would tell her as she regained consciousness. The injection of glitteryll they gave her had wiped out her memories, and made her more suggestible.

 

Every time she began to wake up, the Zoloz built on the new background story they had come up with for her. They told her she was a chick who slept at the clubhouse, and had overdosed on glitteryll. They also told her that she slept with all of the club members, or anyone else they wanted her to. When she finally became fully coherent, all she would remember was what they had told her. After that, they would give her smaller doses every couple of days to keep her memory from returning. She was a glit-biter after all.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Nearly a week later . . .

 

“Hey Torri, bring me a beer,” Dirc called from his poufchair, which was a couple of meters from the holoscreen, which had a shockball game playing on it. His lower right leg was wrapped in a bacta patch. He had been stabbed in a fight with another swoop-bike gang a few days ago. At least that's what they had told her; she didn't remember.

 

The blonde woman promptly got up off her stool, stepped behind the bar, and opened the conservator. She was barefoot, and wearing a pair of tight grayish-blue cut-off short-shorts, and a black crop top with the Zoloz logo on the front. A five-centimeter wide black durasteel collar was locked around her neck, and matching cuffs were on her wrists.

 

The cuffs had the Zoloz logo on them, which consisted of a stylized rancor on a swoop-bike, with both engulfed in flames. PROPERTY was in curved print above the logo, and OF ZOLOZ in curved print below it. The collar had the words ZOLOZ engraved in large silver letters on one side of the leash ring, SLUT on the other, and PROPERTY OF ZOLOZ engraved across the back. The Zoloz rancor logo was engraved on either side of the collar, dividing the messages on the front and back.

 

Torri was still getting used to being at the clubhouse again. She didn't really remember anything before her last overdose, but the few memories she had were good ones. They were mostly of her lounging around—naked except for some shackles—with various members of the Zoloz close by, often high, always happy. Several times she had woken up while one of them was fucking her.

 

They had told her her name was Torri Antilles, and that she had been staying with them a few months. Her identichit—which said she was twenty-nine—was dated nearly a year ago, so she had been here at least that long. Before that, she had no idea. She was wearing her collar in the holo on it, so she assumed she had been wearing it, and the cuffs, at least that long as well. The Zoloz confirmed that she had. She looked to be pretty high in the holo on the identichit too.

 

The swoop-bike gang explained that she had overdosed on glitteryll—again. As for the collar and cuffs, they told her that she was really into bondage, and loved wearing them so much she never took them off, and had that she had lost the remote to unlock them. The Zoloz logo was to show her allegiance to the club, and who she belonged to.

 

Even though she didn't remember much, Torri knew she was a bondage-loving submissive. She hadn't really been alarmed when she woke up shackled spread-eagle. She definitely loved it when Cyllir or one of the other guys cuffed her. Some of the other stuff might not quite feel right, but she didn't care. The sex was great, the Zoloz gave her plenty of glitteryll, crude, pleezer, and giggledust, and they let her walk around barefoot pretty much all the time, which she loved to do for some reason. She also enjoyed dancing for them on the stripper pole they had, and giving them lap dances.

 

She slept with any of the members when they wanted her to, but she mostly hung out with Cyllir, who was the club Vice President. He was also the most into bondage and domming her, so that worked out great too. She didn't really mind cleaning up after the Zoloz and everyone else that hung out around the clubhouse.

 

Once Torri got the beer, she walked over, and handed it to Dirc. He promptly grabbed her wrist, and she cooperatively allowed him to pull her into his lap sideways, leaning against one armrest with her legs over the other one.

 

“Thanks babe,” he said with a leer as he caressed her bare thigh.

 

She knew he didn't really want an answer. The Zoloz liked their women to stay quiet, except in the bedroom. Instead she leaned in, and gave him a slow, open mouthed kiss.

 

When Dirc broke the kiss, he lifted the bottle to her mouth. Torri took a hefty swallow, then grinned at him as he took one. She kept grinning at him as he sat the bottle on the armrest, and then put his hand on her breast. His other hand went to the front of her shorts. Before he could do anything else though, Cyllir and Sid came in from the back part of the club house.

 

“Time to go for a ride, baby,” Cyllir announced cheerfully. “You'll have to play with our slavegirl later,” he added to Dirc with a chuckle.

 

Since Cyllir was the club Vice President, Torri knew she had to obey him. She knew that Dirc knew it too.

 

“Sorry,” she mouthed to him with a wink, as she climbed to her feet. “Let me grab my boots,” she called towards Cyllir as she headed to the back.

 

Torri pretty much only wore shoes when she was dancing for the Zoloz or had to leave the clubhouse, so she didn't have very many pairs. The ones she did have were mainly for her to look sexy for everyone, and not very practical—not that that bothered her.

 

She had one pair in particular for wearing on the back of a swoop-bike. They were black nerfhide platform ankle boots with silver platforms and fifteen-centimeter stiletto heels. The boots had a couple of wide straps with buckles going around them as well. The topmost straps went around her ankles.

 

Torri wrapped the straps tightly around her ankles, checked herself out in the mirror, and strutted back out to join her Zoloz.

 

She found Cyllir, Sid, and Dirc outside on their swoop-bikes. She quickly climbed on the back of Cyllir's, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

 

“So, where are we going?” she asked as they pulled away.

 

“Don't worry about it, babe,” Cyllir answered with a smile, and a pat on her bare thigh.

 

Torri only had a couple of vague memories of the world outside of the clubhouse, so she didn't know much about the city. As matter of fact, she didn't even know what planet she was on. She made a mental note to ask Cyllir or someone when she had the chance. It wasn't that big of a deal though—as long as she was with the Zoloz, she was happy. Torri held Cyllir tight, and enjoyed the vibrations of the engine on her clit.

 

Several minutes later, a police speeder appeared behind them. Cyllir muttered a curse, and the three swoop-bikes pulled over and came to a stop. Torri let out a soft groan of frustration as the swoop-bike's engine came to a stop.

 

“You clean?” Cyllir asked quietly, glancing around.

 

Dirc nodded his head in consent, but Sid shook his once, and brushed his hand across one of his pockets. Torri guessed he had some spice or something on him.

 

“Well well well, if it isn't the local chapter of the Zoloz,” the officer commented as he approached them. “Just a few swoop-bike enthusiasts, out for an afternoon ride?”

 

The officer was Human, perhaps thirty-five, tall, and looked to be in very good shape. He moved with an assured confidence while his eyes constantly scanned all three of the Zoloz, and Torri.

 

“That's right Officer Pratt,” Cyllir agreed amicably. “We're just out enjoying the fresh air and sunshine.”

 

“Hhhmmm,” the officer replied skeptically. “Anybody got anything illegal on them?”

 

“Nope,” Dirc answered quickly.

 

“NO,” Sid told him pointedly.

 

“Of course not,” Cyllir responded earnestly, while Torri simply shook her head, and twirled her hair with her fingers.

 

“Hhhmmm,” Officer Pratt repeated. “Who's carrying a blaster today?”

 

All three Zoloz denied the allegation.

 

“Where would I even put one?” Torri asked, posing to show off her tight, skimpy clothes that barely covered her toned body.

 

Officer Pratt gave her a quick once over with his eyes. “I see your point,” he answered with a professional nod. “You even got room for an identichit in there?”

 

“Yeah,” Torri replied quickly. She glanced at Cyllir, who rolled his eyes in annoyance.

 

“Good, let me see it,” Officer Pratt told her, holding out his hand. “I like to know everyone hanging around with the Zoloz.”

 

Torri gave Cyllir an apologetic look, realizing why he was annoyed with her quick answer. Then she pulled her identichit out of the back pocket of her tight cut-offs, and handed it to him.

 

“Torri Antilles,” Officer Pratt commented as he glanced at the identichit. “How long you been hanging around with these guys?” he asked, nodding his head towards the three swoop-bikers.

 

As he spoke, he slid her identichit into a small scanner on his belt. It would tell him if she had any warrants, previous arrests, or anything else law enforcement might need to know about her. Once he finished up here, he'd update the computer to make her a known associate of the Zoloz, and Cyllir in particular.

 

“Um, a couple of months or so,” she replied vaguely, glancing at Cyllir for his approval. As she spoke, she pushed her hands into the front pocket of her cut-offs. Well, her fingers, as that's all she could fit in. Her wrists flexed out, displaying the Zoloz logo on her cuffs.

 

“So why haven't I seen you around?” he asked, glancing back and forth between her and the swoop-bikers. “The Zoloz usually like to show off their women, especially when they wear as little as you do.”

 

Torri glanced back at Cyllir nervously. “I don't know,” she answered with a shrug. “I guess I don't really leave the clubhouse much.”

 

“I'll bet,” Officer Pratt said in disbelief. “They make you wear the collar and cuffs with the club logo and all that?” he asked, waving his hand towards her neck.

 

“Oh, no,” she assured him with a simple shake of her head. “I love wearing them,” she explained, grinning and lifting her chin to show off her collar.

 

“Hhhmmm,” Officer Pratt said yet again, pulling her identichit out of the scanner. “Have you used any illegal drugs today?” he suddenly asked her, staring hard into her eyes.

 

Torri swallowed nervously. She had done a little pleezer a while ago, but she wasn't about to admit it to a cop. She felt fine now anyways.

 

“No,” she replied firmly, wishing he would let it go.

 

Officer Pratt stared at her another couple of heartbeats, then he glanced down at the red welts on the back of her upper thighs, peeking out below her cut-offs. “What about the whipping?” he asked, staring into her eyes again.

 

“That's just a little bedroom fun, Officer Pratt,” Cyllir assured him. “She likes it.”

 

“Yeah,” Torri agreed with a genuine smile. “Those barely even hurt.”

 

Officer Pratt wasn't quite convinced. “If anyone is abusing you, we can protect you,” he told her.

 

Torri frowned in confusion a heartbeat. “Oh, nothing like that is going on,” she informed him, her frown turning into a seductive smile. “I like getting whipped.”

 

Officer Pratt raised his eyes in surprise a couple of seconds. He quickly recovered however. “Well, as long no one's being forced to do anything against their will,” he commented as he held her identichit out towards her.

 

“Not me,” Torri answered with a shrug, taking the identichit and sliding it into her back pocket.

 

“Make sure things don't go too far in the bedroom,” Officer Pratt said, glancing towards Cyllir. “Too many marks, she won't be able to show so much skin around town.”

 

“We'll be careful,” Cyllir replied with an agreeable nod. “Hey, why'd you stop us anyway? We weren't speeding or anything.”

 

“Oh, he looked a little unsteady on his bike,” Officer Pratt commented, gesturing vaguely towards Dirc or Sid. “I just wanted to make sure everyone was safe to ride. You know, wasn't drunk or anything.”

 

“We really appreciate that, but we're fine. No one's drunk,” Cyllir informed him.

 

“Hhhmmm,” Officer Pratt said again. Then he looked directly at Sid. “Aren't you still on parole for that robbery and assault?”

 

Dirc muttered a curse.

 

“So?” Sid barked.

 

“So since you're still on parole, then I don't need cause to search you,” he explained. “Step over here and put your hands on my speeder.”

 

“Whatever,” Sid answered in mock apathy. He shrugged his shoulders, and began walking towards the police speeder.

 

Torri knew that if the cop found whatever it was Sid has in his pocket, then he'd go to jail. She had to do something.

 

“Officer,” she began as she took a step towards him. “We're just out for a ride. Can't you give us a break this time? We promise we'll go right back to our clubhouse.” As she spoke, she . . . wished him to let them go in her mind.

 

By this time Sid had his hands on the speeder, and his feet spread apart. Officer Pratt was standing just behind him, with one foot between his, and facing the rest of the Zoloz.

 

The police officer paused, and Torri locked eyes with him a few moments.

 

“Please?” she implored him.

 

Officer Pratt glanced at her a moment, then to Cyllir.

 

“I won't see the three of you out here at all for the rest of the day?” he asked.

 

“You got my word,” Cyllir assured him with a nod.

 

Officer Pratt considered that a few seconds, then took a step back, while keeping his hand on Sid's vest. “And Torri will still be able to show all of that nice skin . . . if she wants to, that is?”

 

“Of course, Officer,” Cyllir answered.

 

“Get out of here then,” he told them, nodding his head back towards their clubhouse. “And I don't want to see any of the other Zoloz out here today riding together either.”

 

“Okay,” Cyllir agreed as he straddled his swoop-bike and began strapping his helmet back on.

 

Torri climbed on behind him, and strapped hers on as well. By the time Sid got onto his swoop-bike and got his on, Cyllir and Dirc had theirs started up. A couple of seconds later, all three swoop-bikes were turning to head back to the clubhouse.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

“Great job, babe,” Cyllir said, slapping her ass.

 

They had just arrived back at the clubhouse, and were climbing off the swoop-bikes.

 

“No problem,” Torri replied cheerfully, stepping forward to wrap her arms around his waist. “I'll do anything for my Zoloz,” she added, leaning in and rising to her tip-toes to give him a kiss.

 

“Yeah, thanks,” Dirc agreed as he climbed off his swoop-bike. “You really kept Sid here out of some poodoo.”

 

“What'd you have anyway?” Cyllir asked, breaking the kiss with Torri.

 

“Just some ryll,” Sid answered with a shrug. “A few grams.”

 

“Well, as a reward for talking that frakker out of searching you, I think we ought to let this sexy little slut here have a hit,” Cyllir informed him, moving his hands to Torri's ribcage and lifting her up off the ground till her tits were head-high.

 

Torri let out a yelp of glee at his attention. She wasn't quite as thrilled about the glitteryll, though. The last few times she had done it, she just hadn't felt it like she used to.

 

“I'm cool, baby,” she told Cyllir with a friendly grin.

 

“What?” he asked, setting her down quickly, practically dropping her.

 

Torri stumbled a bit in her fifteen-centimeter stiletto heeled boots as she landed. “Can I have some crude or pleezer instead?” she asked. “I don't want to oh-dee again and lose my memory,” she explained meekly.

 

The three Zoloz exchanged a quick glance with each other. Then Cyllir stepped forward, and grabbed her neck with both hands.

 

“If we tell you to do some ryll, then you're gonna do some ryll, understand, bitch?” he told her malevolently, squeezing her neck above her collar. “I don't care if it's enough to fry every synapse in that empty head of yours; you'll do it, and like it.”

 

“Okay, okay, baby,” Torri answered pleadingly. “I'll do it, just let me go.”

 

Instead of releasing her, Cyllir moved one hand to grab her hair. Then he pulled it down, while holding her neck still, forcing her head to tilt back.

 

Torri obediently opened her mouth, and Sid dropped a hit of glitteryll in. It looked to be a little bigger dose than she normally took, but there was nothing she could really do about it right now. She swallowed, then opened her mouth again to show that she had taken the hit.

 

With one hand still gripping her hair, Cyllir reached into her mouth, and moved her tongue to check under it. “Good girl,” he told her, relaxing his grip. “Now why don't we take you to the bedroom, and you can pay us back for that ryll you just took.”

 

“Sure thing, baby,” Torri replied with a vacuous grin plastered on her face. She was already starting to feel the glitteryll hit her. She let out a little giggle as Cyllir picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.

 

A minute later, Torri happily allowed him to flop her onto the bed in one of the clubhouse's bedrooms. She did need a little help getting out of her cut-offs, but he was happy to lend a hand. Once she was naked except for her collar, cuffs, and boots, he shackled each of her wrists and ankles to one of the bedposts, spread-eagle. Then he climbed on top of her, and began fucking her.

 

When Cyllir was finished, he left her cuffed spread-eagle to the bed, and Dirc came in. Torri was still flying high on the glitteryll as he climbed atop her. When he finished, it was Sid's turn. Three Zoloz in a row wasn't really anything special for Torri. She was expecting Jhan or Lukis or one of the other ones to come fuck her after Sid.

 

Instead of climbing onto her though, Sid began unlocking her from the bed. Then he got her up, wrapped his arm around her, and took her back out into the main part of the clubhouse, still naked and high on glitteryll. She barely noticed the handful of Zoloz spread out around the room.

 

“There's my sexy girl,” Cyllir said with a smile, as Sid guided her to him.

 

Sid passed her off, and Cyllir, who was sitting on a poufchair, guided her onto his thigh. “When we left earlier we were taking you to get some tats before that bantha dung cop started frakking with us,” he explained, idly twisting her nipple. “But we got Vik here to come to us, so we can still get you all inked up.”

 

Torri caught about one word in three of what he had said. She followed his gesture to a heavily tattooed bald guy that she didn't recognize. She leaned her head on Cyllir's shoulder. “Sounds like fun,” she answered with a vacant grin.

 

Vik was Human, about fifty, and toned but not really muscular. He was wearing a pair of baggy black pants, and a white tank top with heavy black boots. Pretty much every centimeter of visible skin below his chin was covered with tattoos.

 

One of the things Vik had brought with him in his kit was a small droid, only about twenty centimeters tall. It would do most of the tattooing, after Vik had made outlines of what he wanted. Not only could the droid work much faster than Vik, he wouldn't have to take as many breaks with it doing most of the work.

 

Torri docily allowed Cyllir to lay her face down on a nearby caftable. Then he told Lukis to take off her boot as he removed her other one. She barely even noticed when the tattoo needle began hitting her skin a minute later.

 

The first tat was across the small of her back. It consisted of ZOLOZ SLUT in large black lettering just above her shapely hips, over a background of orange and yellowish flames, just like the Zoloz' Rancor logo. Next Cyllir had Vik tattoo the same thing, without the flames, on the outside of her right ankle, and on the inside of her right wrist between her cuff and the palm of her hand. I SUCK ZOLOZ COCK was tattooed on the same spots on her left ankle and wrist. The wrist tats were orientated so people could read them when she was handing them drinks and stuff.

 

The next tat Vik did was PROPERTY OF ZOLOZ, just above her pussy, with an arrow designed to look like the front end of a swoop-bike pointing down to her slit. The same thing, without the arrow, was tattooed between her shoulder blades a few centimeters below her collar. Both of the last two tats had the flame pattern background as well. The flames of her pussy tat were shaped like they were coming from her smooth slit.

 

The last tats Torri got were of the flaming patterns around the bases of her breasts. The flames were several centimeters wide, and went about three-quarters of the way around, from the inside tops around to the inside bottoms as far as he could get and still make the pattern look good.

 

As Vik completed each tat, he carefully applied a bacta patch specially made for tattoos over it on the ones he could. He put a bacta cream that served the same purpose on the tats around her tits. The bacta would ensure the ink didn't get smeared or anything, and greatly increase the skin's healing. After just a couple of hours, the tats would be as permanent as they could be.

 

It took Vik just a couple of hours to finish her. By that time, Torri was starting to come down off the glitteryll some. The pain of the needle she felt had only served to turn her on more than anything else though.

 

After finishing the tats and applying the bacta patches, Vik got out a pair of durasteel rings a few millimeters thick and about a centimeter and a half in diameter.

 

As Torri lay on the caftable, Jhan and Dirc rolled her over onto her back. Then they cuffed her hands behind her, underneath the caftable. Next they pulled her feet down and back towards her hands, and cuffed her ankles to her wrists, leaving her completely exposed and helpless.

 

Torri let out a cry of arousal as the needle pierced her left nipple. She let out a couple more softer ones as Vik inserted the ring. She moaned loudly again when he pierced her right nipple. That was followed by a few more as he set the ring. Both durasteel rings were quickly laser welded shut, making the permanent unless they were carefully cut off.

 

The last thing Cyllir wanted done to the Zoloz' slavegirl was a tongue piercing. Like her new nipple rings, this one was made out of thick durasteel, and would have to be very carefully cut off if it was ever removed. The part of the stud that would be visible on top of her tongue was shaped like a pair of breasts. The great thing about the stud though, was that it would vibrate when in contact with flesh—like a cock, or woman's pussy, or whatever someone made her lick. Cyllir could also turn the vibrations on or off with a small remote that came with it.

 

Torri obediently opened her mouth and let . . . the bald guy's little droid thing grab her tongue with a set of rubberized pincers. It pulled it out far enough to hurt a little, then rammed a needle through her tongue, followed quickly by some sort of thick stud. Once the durasteel rod was in place, the droid let go of her tongue. Vik picked it up, and began packing it away.

 

Naked and shackled, Torri laid on the caftable, getting a feel for her new tongue jewelry. Then Dirc reached out and got a feel for one of her new nipple rings, causing her to let out a small yelp of pain, and feel a spark of arousal. While he played with her sensitive piercing, Torri glanced over to see Cyllir pass Vik a stack of credits.

 

After paying Vik, Cyllir walked to the caftable. He stared down at Torri with a satisfied smile.

 

“Wow, you look sexy,” he told her, leaning over her to twist her nipple ring. Then he produced an imager. “Let me take a few flatholos of your new jewelry.”

 

Since Torri was cuffed to the caftable, she didn't really have a choice in the matter. It wasn't like they didn't already have plenty of flatholos, and holorecordings, of her naked and shackled. They said they were just sharing them with the other Zoloz chapters, but she suspected they were putting them on the HoloNet. She didn't really care one way or the other. As matter of fact, the idea sorta turned her on. Maybe she'd mention it to Cyllir or someone sometime.

 

Cyllir took quite a few flatholos of her, mostly of her nipple rings and tongue stud. She obediently opened her mouth wide to give the imager a better view of it. Since her tats were still covered by the bacta patches, he didn't take any of them.

 

“Hey, you mind if I get a copy of those for my shop wall?” Vik asked as he packed up his tattoo kit. “It'll be good advertising.”

 

Once again, Torri felt a little aroused at the idea of pictures of her naked on Vik's wall.

 

“No problem,” the Vee-Pee replied cheerfully. “I'll send you a copy of these, and the rest once the bacta patches are off. Kriff, I'll even send her over, so you can take some yourself. Maybe even show her off to some of your customers.”

 

“Thanks man,” Vik responded happily, eyeing the naked woman shackled to the caftable appreciatively.

 

Torri stayed silent while Cyllir agreed to display her flatholos, and her, for Vik's business. She was still buzzing on the ryll, not that it mattered. She knew that if they wanted her to advertise for Vik's tat shop, then she would.

 

“In fact, why don't you go ahead and take Vik here to the back, and show him how much you appreciate all the hard work he did on you?” Cyllir said, patting her inner thigh.

 

“Okay,” Torri answered, the heavy tongue stud affecting her speech. “Tswomebody'll have to uncuwff me,” she added, tugging against her shackles.

 

All of the Zoloz chuckled at her new lisp.

 

Cyllir hit a button on his remote, and Torri felt the chains connecting her wrists and ankles fall to the floor. She carefully sat up, not wanting to mess up her new tats, then swung her feet off the side of the caftable. Next she stood up, smiled at Vik, and strutted towards the back, her arm wrapped around his waist. She felt his hand give her bare ass a squeeze as they walked.

 

There were several bedrooms in the Zoloz clubhouse. Torri mostly used one in particular though, unless one of the Zoloz took her to another room. She guided Vik to it, and spent the next half hour showing him how much she appreciated her new tats and body jewelry. When she finished, several of the Zoloz were waiting their turn to try out her new tongue stud and nipple rings.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Several days later . . .

 

Torri smiled seductively up at Lukis, one of the younger Zoloz, who was relaxing in a poufchair in one of the clubhouse's bedrooms. Then she opened her mouth wide to display her tongue stud. After a heartbeat, she leaned forward, and pressed it against the tip of his cock. Her thumb and first two fingers were wrapped tightly around the base. With her other hand, she gently caressed the back of his balls with her new centimeter-long bright red fingernails.

 

When her tongue stud touched his dick, it began vibrating, causing Lukis to let out a little sigh of pleasure. Then she slowly ran her stud down the length of his shaft, eliciting a louder moan, and licked back up it.

 

Ever since she had gotten her new vibrating tongue stud, Torri seemed to be spending all her time sucking Zoloz' cocks. Lukis was her fourth one today, and it was only early afternoon. She wrapped her lips around his head, and slowly slid it into her mouth, keeping her tongue stud vibrating against his shaft all the way down.

 

She made it to the bottom, and pressed the stud against the base of his cock, causing him to buck his hips a little as he moaned out. She held her stud and lips tight around him for several seconds, then slowly slid her mouth back up to the top. Torri paused there a moment, then began sucking him off in earnest. His moans grew louder as she began rapidly bobbing her head up and down on his cock.

 

For the next several minutes, Torri eagerly sucked Lukis' rock-hard cock. Since he was only like twenty, he didn't take long to reach orgasm. She deep throated him, and held her lips tight around the base of his dick as she sucked him hard. Then she felt him tense, and heard him groan loudly as he shot his load down her throat.

 

Torri kept her lips sealed tight as she struggled to swallow every drop. She made sure to stay with him, sucking him dry before she slid her lips off his cock. Then swallowed one last time, then looked up at him, licking traces of cum off her lips.

 

“Vapin' Moffs, you are good,” Lukis exclaimed breathlessly. “Kriffing awesome cock sucker.”

 

“Twhanks baby,” she answered with a smile. She was still getting used to talking with her heavy tongue stud, but she only occasionally lisped like she had at first. “You were great too.”

 

She lowered her head back down, and began licking him clean. When her tongue stud came in contact with his cock, it began vibrating. With that sort of stimulation, it didn't take him long to get hard again. Torri was happy to suck him off a second time, but instead he stopped her, and pulled her up. She paused long enough to pull off her cut-offs, thong, and halter top, then she straddled him, and lowered herself onto his hard cock.

 

As she began bouncing up and down on him, he reached out, and started twisting and pulling on her nipple rings. As she rose up, he pulled down on them, and as she lowered herself onto his cock, he pulled up. Torri let out a loud moan of satisfaction. The pain turned her on as much as the pleasure.

 

Soon Torri was screaming out in orgasm. A few minutes later, Lukis erupted into her. When he finished, Jhan came in, and Torri gave him a blow-job. He loved her new tongue stud as much as Lukis had. After he shot his load down her throat, he left, and she took a sanisteam.

 

Twenty minutes or so later, Torri emerged from the 'fresher, naked except for her collar, cuffs, and nipple rings. Her new tats stood out against her skin. She still wasn't quite sure how she felt about them, but she knew the Zoloz loved the tats and piercing, so she guessed she was okay with them. The flames around her tits looked kind of cool. She definitely liked her nipple rings, and she was starting to enjoy the feeling of her new tongue stud as well; especially when it was vibrating against a nice hard Zoloz cock!

 

Torri wandered over to the closet, and started getting dressed. First she pulled on a black thong, then a pair of tight red short-shorts. Next came a tight black tanktop with the Zoloz' Rancor logo on the front. The bottom of the shirt stopped about the level of her lowest rib, and there was a tear several centimeters long from the top going down between her tits. Her pierced nipples were noticeable through the thin material. She didn't bother with shoes, since she wasn't leaving the clubhouse, as far as she knew. When she came out of the bedroom, she found several of the Zoloz playing sabacc in the main room of the clubhouse.

 

“Hey schutta, bring me a Rancor Blood,” Quinn, the chapter president called out when he noticed her.

 

Dirc, Lukis, and the others quickly put in their drink orders as well.

 

“No problem,” Torri answered with a smile as she headed behind the bar.

 

A few minutes later she came out carrying a tray full of Rancor Bloods. It was officially the preferred drink of the Zoloz, although she knew several only drank it when Quinn, Cyllir, or one of the other club officers were around. As matter of fact, she knew that Cyllir only drank it when he was with Quinn, and not even all the time then. She passed the drinks out, then began watching from a stool in front of the bar.

 

As the game progressed, she kept bringing them more drinks as they needed them. They rewarded her with slaps, pinches, and caresses on her ass, legs, tits, and just about anywhere else they could reach.

 

A while later, Lukis announced he had to leave. A couple of rounds after that, Torch, who was the gang's explosive expert and resident pyromaniac, went broke, and left the game to watch the holoscreen. Luckily Sid showed up as Torch quit, so they still had four players. By the next round, Cyllir had come in, making it five again.

 

Once Torri got everyone fresh drinks, she perched herself on Cyllir's leg. His hand immediately settled on her thigh, just below the hem of her shorts, which was only a couple of centimeters below her pussy. She responded by spreading her legs a little further apart, and laying her arm over his shoulders.

 

Before, Torri had mostly watched everyone's drinks. Now though, she did her best to watch the cards, hoping to help Cyllir if she could. In the short time since her last overdose, she had already picked up the basic rules . . . again, she supposed. The object was to get as close as you could to twenty-three, either positive or negative, without going over. If there was a tie, a positive number beat the same negative number.

 

For the next few rounds, Torri watched the cards in Cyllir's hand, and the ones that came up on the table. He, Quinn, and Sid all won a hand pot, while the sabacc pot steadily grew. She felt like she was starting to get a feel for the cards. On the last deal, she had somehow guessed that Sid was going to get the Demise card, and win the hand pot. This time, in spite of the fact that Cyllir had a negative twenty, she felt like Quinn was going to win.

 

“Fold,” she whispered into Cyllir's ear, reaching out to tilt his cards down. “Quinn's gonna win.”

 

“What?” he asked in obvious annoyance.

 

“Quinn's gonna win,” she repeated quietly.

 

“What are you, a Jedi or something?” Cyllir asked in derision. “Shut up and go get me an Ebla beer, babe,” he told her, pushing her off his leg. “Leave the sabacc to me.”

 

“Okay,” Torri responded after a moment's hesitation, heading behind the bar. She was a little disappointed he wouldn't listen to her, but knew better than to make an issue out of it.

 

“And bring me another Rancor Blood,” Dirc called out. He had the knife he always seemed to carry out, idly spinning it on the table.

 

“Me too,” Quinn added, watching her suspiciously.

 

“I'll take a Lomin Ale, slave,” Jhan told her.

 

“Coming right up,” Torri replied as they chuckled at Jhan's remark. She flashed him a playful grin in response. She had quickly gotten used to them calling her names and stuff. For some reason the word Jedi was still stuck in her head. She mentally pushed it to the back of her mind, and opened the conservator.

 

While she was getting the drinks ready, she heard Cyllir mutter a curse. She looked up to see Quinn smiling triumphantly. He glanced her way, the smile disappearing, and she quickly turned her attention back to what she was doing. She could feel his eyes stay on her several more seconds as she finished.

 

By the time Torri brought the drinks out, the dealer droid had passed out new cards. She knew she couldn't just serve everyone how they were seated though. She had to serve them by order of their rank in the club. That meant that Quinn came first, then Cyllir, Dirc, Sid, and finally Jhan.

 

As she leaned over to set the glasses on the table, one or sometimes both Zoloz closest to her gave her a hard slap on her ass, or caressed her upper thigh, or ran his fingers underneath her shorts and thong into her pussy. She just smiled, and flirted with them as they did. When she finished, she set the tray back on the bar, then returned to Cyllir's lap.

 

“Here, take this,” Cyllir told her, holding a dull reddish-brown pill between his thumb and forefinger.

 

Torri obediently took the pill, and Cyllir gave her a swallow of his Ebla Beer to wash it down. She responded by giving him a very friendly, open-mouthed kiss. He responded by snaking his hand up her shirt, and twisting her nipple ring until she let out a little yelp of pain. The other Zoloz loved it.

 

Since the crude was a pill, Torri knew it would take a couple of minutes before she felt the hit. Crude usually made her horny, and for some reason want to be spanked or whipped. Then again, she was pretty much always up for some bondage and pain. While she waited, she watched them play sabacc, and still tried to guess the cards, and who would win. Just like before, she was right most of the time. Unlike before, she kept her mouth shut, even when Cyllir lost. She did slip her hand down his pants though, and massaged his dick a little.

 

Instead of fucking her like she wanted though, Cyllir and Dirc cuffed her hands behind her back, and dragged her over to an overhead restraining ring. Then they lifted her cuffed wrists, forcing her to bend over, and locked them to the ring with a chain. Finally Dirc shoved a ballgag into her mouth, strapped it tight, and he and Cyllir returned to the sabacc game.

 

Having her cuffed wrists pulled up high behind her back quickly became very uncomfortable for Torri. She tried groaning through her ballgag, but that only drew a paddling from Jhan, and orders to stay quiet or they'd give her something to scream about.

 

For the next half hour or so, Torri stood bent over at the waist with her cuffed wrists above the level of her shoulders, doing her best to keep her groans of pain as quiet as she could. For once she wished she was wearing a pair of platform heels. She lifted herself up to her tip toes as often as she could to relieve the strain. Since the Zoloz only slapped her ass or pinched her nipples or something when they walked by to get more beer, she guessed she was successful. She had drooled quite a bit onto the floor by this point. When the game finally ended, she hoped they'd at least let her wrists down, and maybe take out the ballgag.

 

From her bent-at-the-waist position, Torri watched Cyllir walk up to her, and felt him caress her sore ass a couple of seconds. Then he pulled her shorts and thong down her legs, and she stepped out of them. He tossed them onto a nearby poufcouch, and pulled her tank top over her head, up her arms to her cuffed wrists. By that time Jhan had returned from the bedroom with a spreader bar.

 

The durasteel bar was a meter long, and had five-centimeter-wide shackles on each end. Jhan and Cyllir quickly pulled her feet apart, and locked the shackles around her ankles.

 

As soon her feet were spread and cuffed, Quinn unstrapped her ballgag, and pulled it out of her mouth. Torri swallowed a couple of times, then opened her mouth again to wrap her lips around his cock. Her tongue stud immediately started vibrating against it. A few moments later, she felt another cock sliding into her from behind.

 

When they finished, Cyllir told Chiv to uncuff her, and for her to go get on a pair of shoes. She quickly obeyed, returning in a pair of clear plastex platform sandals with fifteen centimeter heels. Her shoulders still hurt from being cuffed like she had for so long.

 

“Dance baby,” Quin told her, gesturing towards the nearby stripper pole.

 

Torri obediently climbed onto the stage, and began dancing to the music that was playing. The Zoloz kept playing poker, barely paying any attention to her. She spent a lot of time dancing on the pole for the Zoloz, and loved every minute of it.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

The next day . . .

 

“I ever tell you how sexy you look washing my bike, babe?” Cyllir asked her as he leaned back in his chair.

 

Torri paused a moment, and looked up at him. “Yeah,” she answered with a smile. “And so has Sid, and Lukis, and Torch, and most everyone else.”

 

“They said you look sexy washing my bike too?” he commented with his own sly smile.

 

Torri gave him a wry grin, then returned to washing his bike without replying. She knew that he knew what she had meant.

 

Cyllir chuckled a moment. “Well, hurry up and finish. We got some place to go,” he told her, standing up.

 

“Okay,” she responded, wiping down one of the exhaust pipes.

 

Cyllir headed back into the clubhouse, and Torri continued working. Besides being available for sex and cleaning up around the clubhouse, one of the things she had to do on a pretty much daily basis was wash the Zoloz' swoop-bikes. Not all of them had her do it every day, though. Most days it was just two or three.

 

Currently Torri was out in front of the clubhouse. The Zoloz usually parked their swoop-bikes there, so that was where she washed them. They insisted she always wear shoes to do it. She had a pair of clear plastex platform sandals with fifteen-centimeter heels for that reason. She was also wearing a pair of short-shorts and a thin white tank top, both of which were wet, displaying her pierced nipples through the clinging fabric. The flames around her tits were even visible. It was how the Zoloz liked her to be dressed when she washed their swoop-bikes. She enjoyed showing off for them too, not to mention everyone else that passed by.

 

Quite a few locals had stopped to have a few beers while they watched her work. Some even paid—the Zoloz of course—to have her wash their swoop-bike or speeder while they watched.

 

Once Torri finished washing the swoop-bike, she went inside, where Cyllir made her take some pleezer and ryll. After that he told her to put on something slutty, and slapped her ass to send her on her way. She happily told him she would, and went to take a sanisteam.

 

A little while later Torri emerged wearing her tiniest pair of black cut-off short-shorts, a skimpy red tube top with the Zoloz logo on the front, and her black platform ankle boots with fifteen-centimeter stiletto heels.

 

The cut-offs had no waistband, displaying quite a bit of her hips, and the bottom quarter of her ass-cheeks. They were frayed a little around the top and bottom. The waist strings of her thong were several centimeters above the top of the cut-offs as well. All of her tattoos except the one of her pussy and the flames around her breasts were visible. The Zoloz had told her that her tats always had to be visible from now on.

 

Torri climbed onto Cyllir's swoop-bike behind him, and he started the engine. Torch and Jhan rode with them. Torri wasn't really surprised when they arrived at a tattoo shop—Vik's, she assumed—nearly ten minutes later.

 

Under Vik's direction, Torri began posing for flatholos of her tattoos and piercings. After a few minutes, he had her strip off her tube top. Then he took some images of her nipple rings and the flames tattooed around the base of her tits.

 

A couple of minutes later, Cyllir told her to put her tube top back on. Then they went outside, and Torri posed for more flatholos with Cyllir's swoop-bike. Next Cyllir produced a short chain with maglocks at each end. By this time Torri was feeling really good from the pleezer and ryll. She happily allowed him to pull her hands behind her back, and maglock her wristcuffs together.

 

Vik took quite a few flatholos of her cuffed and posing with the swoop-bike. Torri laid back on top of it, arching her back seductively, her hands cuffed underneath her. Vik took several shots, then Torri sat up, straddled the bike, and arched her back for the holoimager.

 

Next Cyllir uncuffed her, and told her to take off her top. Torri obeyed without even thinking.

 

“Hey man,” Vik protested, looking around nervously. “If somebody sees, they'll probably call the police.”

 

“Jhan and Torch will keep an eye out for anyone,” Cyllir responded. “And she can run inside if anyone gets too close.”

 

“All right,” Vik agreed with a nod, lifting the holoimager.

 

Before he could take anymore flatholos, Cyllir recuffed her wrists behind her back. Then Torri happily posed for them as Vik took more images of her, now topless and cuffed.

 

Next Cyllir stepped up, unzipped her cut-offs, and pulled them and her thong down her legs. Torri stepped out of both, leaving her completely naked, and cuffed, except for her ankle boots, and collar.

 

The tattoo artist was obviously nervous about having a naked woman in front of his shop. Cyllir was insistent though, and Torch and Jhan kept a lookout.

 

In spite of his worry about the police, Vik was more than happy to take plenty of flatholos of the PROPERTY OF ZOLOZ with the swoop-bike arrow tattoo above her pussy. Torri was definitely enjoying being naked and cuffed in front of the three Zoloz.

 

She laid down on her back on top of the swoop-bike again. Her stiletto heeled feet were spread to either side of it, and her back was arched, leaving her completely exposed. Vik took quite a few shots of her in that pose. For the next set of holos, Cyllir moved the cuffs back in front, and Torri stretched out on his swoop-bike again, this time with her hands extended over her head.

 

Finally they went back inside, with her wrists still cuffed together in front of her. Vik took some more flatholos, mostly of her pussy tat, and the flames around her breasts. Then Jhan suggested Vik give her a belly button piercing.

 

Everyone thought it was a great idea. Even Torri didn't mind. After some discussion, they decided on giving her ear piercings, a belly button piercing, a curved bar through her right eyebrow, and a stud through her left nostril.

 

“Baby, the ear piercings and belly button ring are cool, but I'm not sure about the other stuff,” Torri protested to Cyllir.

 

The Zoloz Vice President stepped over to her, and put one hand on the back of her head. Then he leaned in, and gave her a forceful, open-mouthed kiss.

 

“You're getting what I say you're getting, understand,” he told her firmly, tightening his grip on her head and neck.

 

“Okay, okay,” Torri hastily agreed.

 

“Good,” he replied, relaxing his grip. He pulled her head against his chest, and gave it a couple of pats. “That's my girl. Now let's move these behind you,” he added, unlocking her wrist cuffs.

 

A moment later Torri docilely allow him to spin her around, and cuff her wrists together behind her back. Then, with her still facing away from him, she let him tilt her head back, and they shared another kiss. She felt him tug on her collar's leash ring, then break the kiss. After a few seconds, he guided her to the waiting tattoo artist by her leash ring.

 

Even though she really didn't want the extra jewelry, Torri let out a little moan of arousal each time the needle pierced her skin. Pain always turned her on for some reason.

 

While Vik was inserting new bits of durasteel into her, Torch suggested he add a bar through the top of each of her ears. Torri glanced hopefully at Cyllir, who was talking with Jhan, not even paying attention.

 

“Go ahead,” she said resignedly.

 

The bars were parallel with her ears, each one piercing the cartilage twice. The regular earrings were thick durasteel rings eight centimeters in diameter hanging from her lower ears.

 

When he finished with her new piercings, Vik took some more flatholos. Jhan and Cyllir were still talking quietly to each other. Even though they were on the other side of the shop, and practically whispering, Torri could still make out the words warehouse, and shipment. After a couple of minutes, Jhan nodded, and headed out the door.

 

“Hey, you know what we ought to do?” Torch began. “Tattoo the flame pattern around her tits from her shoulders all the way down to her ankles. That'd look so hot,” he suggested, his eyes tracing the proposed path of the tattoos on Torri's body.

 

Torri really didn't want flames tattooed down both sides of her body.

 

Vik looked over to Cyllir. “Even with friend prices, something like that will cost a bit,” he told him.

 

Cyllir eyed Torri's still naked body a couple of moments. “Let's do it,” he announced. “If my brother's willing to help out?”

 

“Shavit,” Torch answered. “Anytime, bro. Especially for something like this.”

 

“Come on, baby,” Torri protested again. “I let you do all the piercings.”

 

Cyllir stared at her a couple of seconds. Then he stalked over to her, and grabbed her by her head and neck.

 

“I'm not going to kriffing tell you again, bitch!” he shouted, pushing her back against the wall, and lifting her off the ground by her neck. Her hands were still cuffed helplessly behind her. “If we tell you to do something, then you kriffing well better do it, schutta!”

 

“Okay! Okay!” Torri answered fearfully. “I'll do it! I'll do it! Just please let me go!”

 

It was moments like this that Torri knew for sure she was a submissive. She still didn't want the tattoos, but she just couldn't even think about fighting back anymore. She knew the pain would turn her on. It turned her on to be treated like this. She was a Zoloz slut.

 

Cyllir held her off the floor against the wall for several more seconds. “You got any ryll?” he asked, still staring into Torri's eyes.

 

“Na,” Torch answered. “Just some giggledust.”

 

“Well, I think our little schutta needs some to make her feel better.”

 

Torri twisted her cuffs nervously as Torch pulled out a vial of giggledust, and approached her. Cyllir lowered her to the floor, but kept a firm grip on her neck and head. When Torch lifted the vial to her mouth, she obediently opened wide, and allowed him to pour it in. She quickly swallowed it, then opened her mouth again so Cyllir could see that she had.

 

“That's my girl,” Cyllir said, smirking as he relaxed his grip. “You ready for some more tats now?” he asked, slapping her ass.

 

“Yeah,” Torri answered quietly.

 

Vik, with Torch and Cyllir's input, took a few minutes to sketch out a design. When they finished, Cyllir unlocked her wrists, and Vik and his little tattoo droid went to work. By that time Torri was starting to feel the giggledust pretty good. She was grinning as Vik began tattooing her ribcage.

 

Over the next couple of hours, flames were tattooed down both sides of Torri's body. They began connected with the flames around her breasts. From there they went down her sides, to her hips, thighs, and lower legs. The flames stopped just above the tattoos that were already on the outside of her ankles. The pattern was about ten centimeters wide for most of its path, only narrowing at her knees and lower legs.

 

Vik also tattooed the flaming background on the outside of each of her shoulders. Then he tattooed the Zoloz rancor logo, with PROPERTY curving around the top, and OF ZOLOZ curving around the bottom.

 

As Vik finished a section of the tattoo, he applied the special bacta cream for tats. It took him a couple of hours to finish the flaming pattern down both sides of her body, and other tats.

 

Once he completed the tats, Cyllir cuffed Torri's hands behind her back again. Even though she was pretty sore from such extensive tattooing, she didn't mind being cuffed. She also didn't mind when Vik took her into a back room for his tip.

 

First she gave him a nice blow-job with her vibrating tongue stud. Then he spent a while fucking her. When she came out, she gave Cyllir and Torch blow-jobs. Only then did Cyllir uncuff her. Torri put her thong, cut-offs, tube top, and ankle boots back on, and they headed back to the clubhouse.

 

When they got back, Cyllir made Torri strip naked and show everyone her new tats and piercings. Then they had her pole dance for them a while. From there things just sort of just turned into a party. Torri danced for everyone a while, then ended up getting fucked by quite a few of the Zoloz by the end of the night. Well, a few more than normal.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Part III: Swoop-bike Slut ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Meanwhile, at the Jedi Temple on Ossus . . .

 

“You wanted to see me, Master Skywalker?” Jedi Knight Ta'tan'ia asked with a cheerful smile as she entered the operations room.

 

She was wearing black knee boots with fifteen-centimeter wedge heels, along with light brown pants that were tucked into the tops of the boots. A matching three-quarter length sleeved top displayed a little bit of her D-cup breasts. A wide black nerfhide belt with the Jedi Order Emblem on the front was cinched tight around her trim waist, with a matching harness wrapped around her head and lekku. Her silver beskar collar was visible around her neck, as was a matching beskar chrono on her left wrist, and comlink on her right.

 

The Grand Master of the Jedi Order was facing away from her, staring at a map of the Mid and Outer Rims on a large tactical holodisplay.

 

“Yes I did,” he replied without looking back. “I have a mission for you.”

 

“Okay Master,” Ta'tan'ia answered obediently. “But I'm telling you now, I won't kill anyone for you.”

 

“What?” Luke responded in obvious surprise, turning his head back to look at her. “Where did that come from?”

 

“That holojournalist, AJ, Master,” Ta'tan'ia replied earnestly. “His latest story says the Jedi Order is just a way to train young Force-sensitives to be assassins for you.” She paused a moment, then added, “Want me to seduce him and get him change his stories for you, like I did Madhi Vaandt?”

 

“No, Jedi Ta'tan'ia,” Luke stated firmly, and sounding slightly annoyed. Then he thought a moment. “Is he really writing stuff that bad?”

 

“Yes Master,” she responded with honest disappointment that someone would do such a thing. “Luckily not a lot of people are paying him too much attention.”

 

The Jedi Master stood in silence a few moments. “Still, to be on the safe side, I want you to kill him, okay?”

 

“Yes Mast—Master Skywalker!” she practically shouted in surprise, once she realized what he had said. A heartbeat later, she realized he was joking.

 

Luke Skywalker flashed her a grin. “Like I was saying, Jedi Ta'tan'ia, I have a mission for you. And for the record, I'm ordering you to not to kill anyone unless absolutely necessary.”

 

“Of course, Master,” Ta'tan'ia answered obediently. “I live to serve.”

 

“Former Jedi Knight Tahiri Veila is missing,” he began. “We believe she departed Lavisar, a little over a week ago. She hasn't been seen since. Jedi Torrin has been searching for her since yesterday. I want you join him, and find her,” he instructed her.

 

“Yes Master,” Ta'tan'ia replied with a nod. Then she thought a moment. “Master, how do we know she isn't just hiding out waiting on a bounty or something?”

 

While there was an official order to arrest Tahiri on sight, most of the Jedi knew that Master Skywalker and the Council basically wanted her left alone. Only a handful besides the Masters knew she was a bounty hunter though. Ta'tan'ia had only found out because she had been with Master Solo when Tahiri had contacted her, after Jedi Torrin had tried to arrest her.

 

“That's a possibility,” Master Skywalker admitted. “However, it's unlikely. Tahiri has never gone more than a week without capturing a bounty. She also hasn't responded to messages from Talon Karrde, Master Solo, and myself for several days. She's never taken more than half-a-day or so to respond to a message from one of us. Talon was the one that alerted me that she wasn't responding to his calls, and hadn't been in contact with the Bounty Hunters' Guild.”

 

“Yes Master,” Ta'tan'ia responded. “Wyric and I will find her.”

 

He gave her a long look before replying. “I know you will, Jedi Ta'tan'ia. Try to keep who it really is we're searching for a secret. We don't want word to get out that the Jedi have been in contact with Tahiri. She is technically a wanted fugitive after all.”

 

“Yes Master,” Ta'tan'ia answered obediently.

 

“May the Force be with you.”

 

“And you, Master.”

 

Even though Tahiri had embarrassed Wyric, Ta'tan'ia knew he would do his best to find her. He was a Jedi after all, and didn't let petty emotions get in the way of his duty.

 

As soon as Ta'tan'ia left Master Skywalker, she headed to one of the Temple's computer terminals. There she told the main computer to conduct a search for all sightings of Tahiri's ship under all known aliases in the past three weeks. That search would include the entire Galactic Alliance, as well as most of the rest of the known galaxy.

 

The computer informed her that it had already conducted that search, and forwarded the results, which were negative, to Jedi Torrin. It was updating the search every six hours, and forwarded the results.

 

Next Ta'tan'ia had the computer search for any ships matching the description of Tahiri's ship in the past ten days. This search was targeted to the handful of sectors Tahiri was most active in.

 

The computer informed her that Jedi Torrin had already requested that search, and it had forwarded the results to him. It was also forwarding updates to him every two hours.

 

Ta'tan'ia paused a few moments, trying to think of anything else. Bet you didn't think of this, Wyric, she thought with a smile as she pulled up Tahiri's profile on the computer.

 

As she reviewed the file, she instructed the computer to search for ships matching the description of Tahiri's along the main hyperspace routes heading outward from the sectors she was active as a bounty hunter in. To her delight, Wyric hadn't requested these search parameters.

 

Score one for Ta'tan'ia, she thought with glee. She told the computer to forward the results to her wrist comlink, and logged out.

 

From there Ta'tan'ia headed to her quarters, and changed into a form-fitting armored black bodysuit. The sleeves would mostly hide her beskar chrono and comlink. The collar of the bodysuit would mostly cover her six-centimeter-wide beskar collar, if it were zipped up all the way. Ta'tan'ia however, only zipped it up about even with her nipples. The bodysuit had a sort of flexible corset built into it, which helped display her breasts nicely.

 

The beskar collar, chrono, and comlink were gifts from former Chief of State Daala, and were permanent, not that Ta'tan'ia had been given a choice about that part. Once the tracking device in the collar had been shut down, and the comlink had been reprogrammed so she could use it without being spied on, Ta'tan'ia loved the collar and cuffs, even the fact that they were permanent. If she ever saw Chief Daala again, she'd have to thank her. After she arrested her, that was.

 

Underneath the bodysuit Ta'tan'ia was only wearing her beskar chastity belt. It was also a gift from Daala, but thankfully wasn't permanent. Ta'tan'ia was still wearing the same black boots with fifteen-centimeter wedge heels and her black nerfhide head harness.

 

Next she packed a few essentials, including her fifteen-centimeter clear plastex heels, favorite vibrator, and a little bondage gear. She also packed another bodysuit, and a set of nondescript gray spacer's coveralls. Then she slung her bag over her shoulder, and left her room.

 

As she strutted towards the hanger, she checked her wrist comm for any last minute instructions from Master Skywalker. All she had was a notification that she would be taking an X-wing, and it was fueled up and ready to go. Less than an hour after receiving her orders from Master Skywalker, Ta'tan'ia was departing the Temple Hanger.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

A few days later . . .

 

“Hey baby,” Dirc began as he entered the clubhouse kitchen. “Go make yourself sexy. We're going for a ride.”

 

“Um, I still have to clean all three 'freshers, and the bedrooms,” Torri replied warily. “And finish the kitchen.”

 

Torri had spent the last hour cleaning the main room of the clubhouse, and she was about halfway done with the kitchen. Like most evenings, the Zoloz had left a pretty big mess the night before. She had to have everything cleaned up by early afternoon at the latest. The only place she didn't clean was the large meeting room off the main room. She wasn't allowed in there at all.

 

“You can do that sithspit later,” he told her firmly. “Right now, you're going with me and Lukis. Get your ass ready.”

 

Cyllir and most of the other Zoloz weren't around right now. Still, that didn't mean she was about to try and tell him no. She knew she had to do what they told her to do. Dirc always seemed a bit more menacing than most of the others. Maybe it was the large knife he always carried, and frequently had out. It wasn't even a vibroblade, just a plain, razor-sharp knife with a blade about twenty centimeters long.

 

A few minutes later Torri emerged from the 'fresher wearing a pair of black cut-off short-shorts and a matching nerfhide halter top. She had gotten the top at a used clothing store the day before. The cut-offs were the same ones she had worn a few days ago, when Cyllir had taken her to Vik's tattoo shop. The thin waistband of her thong was visible over the top of the cut-offs. Pretty much all of her tats were visible as well, including the new flames down her sides.

 

Her collar and wristcuffs, which were permanent, were locked around her throat and wrists. She also had a stack of cheap silver bangle bracelets on each wrist, over her cuffs. She had gotten them the day before, along with her top. Her black nerfhide platform ankle boots with fifteen-centimeter stiletto heels were strapped onto her feet.

 

Dirc nodded his approval, and held out a pill. “Take this,” he told her.

 

Torri was still feeling good from the giggledust she had taken earlier, but she knew better to disobey. She obediently took the crude, swallowed it, and opened her mouth for Dirc to see. He grabbed her chin, looked in, then pulled her against him and gave her a kiss while squeezing her ass.

 

As they were walking towards the door, Torri noticed him pull a small remote out of his vest, fiddle with it a moment, then put it back. She had noticed Cyllir with a remote like that too, but she didn't really think about it too much, especially since she was buzzing on giggledust.

 

When they got out front to the speeder-bikes, Lukis and Chiv were already on theirs waiting for them. Chiv was a prospect, which meant he wasn't a patch wearing member of the club yet, but he was working his way in. Torri climbed on behind Dirc, and they took off.

 

Less than a minute later the Zoloz arrived at a block of small stores, restaurants, and cafes. They parked roughly in the middle, and climbed off their swoop-bikes. Then they headed for the nearest shop.

 

At each business, they went in and Dirc, sometimes with Lukis, talked with the owner or whoever was working a couple of minutes. Then the person would pass Dirc a stack of credits, and the Zoloz would leave. Several times Torri—who Dirc had told to stay with Chiv near the entrance—saw Dirc gesture towards her while he was talking with the owner.

 

Torri wasn't really sure what was going on, but she knew better than to ask any questions. She just stood around, smiling and looking sexy. The smiling was easy, since she was still high on giggledust. Looking sexy was just natural. She did notice that Dirc only motioned at her when he was talking to a guy though.

 

The fifth place they went into was a restaurant. Torri didn't see any customers in the place, and just a single heavyset human behind the counter. While the other businesses didn't seem too pleased to see the Zoloz, this guy was happy to see them. Judging by the way he was leering at her, he was especially happy to see Torri.

 

He, Dirc, and Lukis chatted a minute, then Dirc gestured towards Torri, who was waiting obediently by the door. The guy nodded his head and grinned excitedly.

 

“Just stop by in a few hours or so,” Dirc told him as he and Lukis walked towards the door.

 

“You better believe I will,” the guy behind the counter assured him.

 

“Let's go, sexy,” Dirc said, unnecessarily as she was already heading for the door as well. He punctuated the command with a hard slap to her ass.

 

Torri obediently followed him out, and to the next business. Just as before, she stayed near the entrance with Chiv, while Dirc and Lukis headed for the counter. The two women behind it seemed half-scared and half-pissed at Dirc. One of them quickly slid a stack of credit chips across the counter while both stared at him icily.

 

“Thank you ladies,” Dirc said in mock-politeness as he pocketed the credits. “See you next week,” he added with a chuckle.

 

The Zoloz left without saying another word. They visited all the businesses on that block, then got on their swoop-bikes and hit another group of shops. Several more times Dirc encouraged the shop owner to stop by later. Torri noticed that each time the guy—and it was always a guy—seemed to really be checking her out. She knew better than to ask about whatever Dirc was planning though.

 

As they walked between the shops, they saw a policeman sitting in a parked landspeeder nearby. Dirc told her to stay with Chiv, while he and Lukis went over to the cop.

 

They chatted in a friendly enough manner for about half a minute or so. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Torri saw Dirc drop a small stack of credits into the door console of the speeder. The policeman didn't even glance down at it. The three shared another laugh, and ended the conversation. The two Zoloz rejoined her and Chiv, and they headed off.

 

As they walked, Torri deliberately tossed her hair back over her shoulder. She used the gesture to glance back, and saw the cop pick up the stack of credits, thumb through them, then make them disappear around his right leg or the center console. She wasn't sure what it meant, and definitely wasn't about to ask. She was scared enough just doing what she had just did.

 

A couple of times Dirc encouraged a woman, or women, at a shop or restaurant to stop by the clubhouse later. The responses to the suggestion ranged from negative to outright hostility. At one cafe though, a younger girl about eighteen or so seemed to smile a little at the idea, while the older woman next to her screamed at Dirc to get out. As the Zoloz left—Dirc had already pocketed the credits—the older woman began screaming at the younger one. Torri assumed they were mother and daughter.

 

A few stops later, they were through visiting with this particular group of businesses. Torri still had no idea why they were all paying Dirc, or why he had paid the cop off. As they got onto their swoop-bikes, and Torri climbed on behind Dirc, another speeder-bike came around the corner towards them. It was Cyllir.

 

The Vice President came to a stop in front of the three speeder-bikes. The tension in the air was immediately obvious. Lukis didn't seem too worried, but both Chiv and Torri tried to pretend like they weren't there. As a prospect, Chiv knew any of the Zoloz could blame him for pretty much anything. Torri knew any of them could take their anger out on her at any time. Not that she didn't get some pleasure out of a good whipping.

 

“What the frakk are you doing!?” Cyllir demanded.

 

“Just out on the weekly collection run,” Dirc answered innocently.

 

Cyllir stared at him a couple of seconds. “With her!?” he asked, gesturing towards Torri. “What the hell happened to no outsiders in club business!?”

 

“Come on,” Dirc answered with a shrug. “All she knows is we visited some friends and stuff. I even gave her some crude to make sure she was out of it.” He paused a moment, then added, “A lot of people liked her.”

 

Cyllir frowned a moment, then his mouth fell open in shock. “You're pimping her!” he shouted. “On a collection run! Are you frakking insane!”

 

“Chill out, brother,” Dirc told him, gesturing for him to be quiet. “Keep it down. Everything is cool. All I did was invite them to stop by the clubhouse later.”

 

Cyllir stared at him again in disbelief. “Get over here,” he said, beckoning Torri as he glanced at her.

 

Torri hesitated a split-second, then jumped off Dirc's swoop-bike. Then she ran—as fast as she could in her fifteen-centimeter heeled ankle boots—to Cyllir and hopped onto his bike, wrapping her arms around his muscular waist.

 

“I stopped by because I spotted a Blood Rider a few streets over,” Cyllir informed them, nodding his head back towards the direction he had come from. “It looked like he was tailing you.”

 

Torri knew from chatter around the clubhouse that the Blood Riders were another local swoop-bike gang. None of the Zoloz thought very much of them, though. They mostly just thought of them as annoyances.

 

“I saw him,” Dirc answered flippantly. “We ain't worried about him.”

 

Somehow Torri could tell he was lying. By Lukis' expression, he hadn't known anyone had been following them. Chiv wasn't showing any emotion either way. Torri knew better than to bring it up though.

 

“Finish the run,” Cyllir said, shaking his head in exasperation. He obviously didn't believe Dirc either. “We'll talk about this at the table.”

 

Dirc paused a moment before replying. “Sure thing, Vee-Pee,” he answered tightly.

 

Cyllir took off without responding. Torri didn't really see what the big deal was. They knew that she wouldn't talk about anything that went on around the clubhouse—or anywhere else, for that matter.

 

A few minutes later, Cyllir and Torri arrived at the clubhouse. A couple of minutes after that, he was lying on one of the beds naked. She was naked as well, except for her ankle boots, collar, cuffs, bracelets, and other jewelry. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, and she was kneeling over him, sucking his cock, with her tongue stud vibrating against it. Before long they had changed positions, and Torri's head was down with her ass raised, and Cyllir was enthusiastically fucking her from behind. One of his hands was grabbing a fist full of her hair, pulling it back for leverage.

 

Torri loved getting fucked by her Zoloz, especially Cyllir. Most of the others cuffed her during sex, but he really knew how to make her helpless, and give it to her how she needed. It didn't take her long to forget about what had happened with Dirc earlier. She loved being a Zoloz slut!

 

A few hours later . . .

 

Torri walked back behind the clubhouse bar, picked up her rag, and continued idly wiping things down. She was wearing the same black cut-off short-shorts and nerfhide halter top she had been wearing earlier. The only differences were that she was barefoot, and not wearing any panties. She hadn't had time to find them after Cyllir had finished fucking her. Chiv and Seth were nearby, keeping an eye on the door leading to the meeting room. The entire New Coronet chapter of the Zoloz was inside. The two prospects were making sure no one bothered them.

 

That wasn't too difficult, as no one else was in the clubhouse. Still, anytime the Zoloz had a meeting, the prospects' job was to make sure no one got too close to overhear, and they weren't about to screw it up.

 

Torri though, had discovered she had excellent hearing. In spite of the holoscreen being on, and the distance she was from the door, she could pick up most of what they were saying inside.

 

“Look brother, normally I'd be all for getting a little side business in,” Quinn began. “But you know how kriffy it's been for the Zoloz all over the past month. We've had over fifty major operations shut down, and nearly a thousand brothers arrested. And some of that shavit we had had going for decades without a problem.”

 

“I know, I know,” Dirc agreed.

 

“Look man, we don't even need the money we'd make off her,” Cyllir explained. “All it'd do is bring more attention to the club, and that we don't need right now.”

 

There was a noticeable pause in the room.

 

“Some people think you've gotten a little attached to her,” Dirc replied. “You sure you're not just trying to keep her for yourself?”

 

“You know you can fuck her anytime you want, bro,” Cyllir told him. “You can bring a friend. She's the club slut. I haven't had a problem making money off her when she's here, have I? The point is, you were pimping her out on a collection run. It attracts too much attention.”

 

“Cyllir's right,” Quinn announced. “Collection runs are just for collecting credits. We don't need the extra risk—or credits—of running ho's right now.”

 

“All right, I got you,” Dirc answered morosely, after a few moments' hesitation.

 

“As matter of fact,” Quinn continued, “I just got off the comlink with Howler. Our blasters will be here in two days. Once they're sold, we won't even really need the protection credits our local supporters generously donate to us.”

 

“We're still gonna collect though, right?” Sidd asked apprehensively.

 

“Of course we are,” Cyllir responded, as though that should be obvious. “If we stop one of our main businesses then people will notice. Some bright cop might start wondering if we've got something bigger going on.”

 

“Besides, it's easy credits,” Torch added. “We barely even have to threaten anybody anymore. All we have to do is ride around and collect a stack of chits.”

 

Everyone around the table voiced their agreement.

 

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” Quinn began casually. “A few brothers from Trallis II are coming in with the shipment. They want to make sure it gets here okay, and meet our club slut.”

 

Now they all grinned in anticipation. They always liked seeing their fellow Zoloz.

 

“You know about how many?” Jhan asked.

 

Now Quinn grinned slyly. “Oh, a couple dozen or so,” he told them.

 

The Zoloz cheered in answer, and Torri heard them exchanging high-fives. She knew that when a big group from off-planet came in, they held a massive party, and the Zoloz loved partying almost as much as they loved riding their swoop-bikes.

 

“Oh yeah,” Cyllir interjected. “A Blood Rider was following Dirc and Lukis on the protection run again. Sooner or later we're going to have to do something about these guys.”

 

Once again Torri could hear murmurs of agreement.

 

“After we take care of our business,” Quinn announced firmly.

 

“Maybe with our brothers in town, we can find time to take care of our little bloody problem,” Sidd suggested. “After we take care of our main business, that is.”

 

The Zoloz voiced their agreement yet again.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Even within the handful of sectors Tahiri operated in, there were several million ships that matched the description of the Jedi-turned-bounty hunter's either taking off, landing, docking, or passing through someone's sensor zone in the three week time frame Wyric and Ta'tan'ia were searching.

 

After cross-checking the more than four million possible sightings of Tahiri's ship with known ships, the Temple computer was able to reduce the possibilities down to a little under three hundred thousand. That was still quite a lot of ships that could be Tahiri's though. The Bureau of Ships and Services was notoriously slow in releasing information, even to the Jedi, so that certainly didn't help matters.

 

Wyric had been meditating on where to go next. Ta'tan'ia joined him on his ship. She left her X-wing on a Galactic Alliance freighter that would be passing near Ossus in a couple of weeks. She wanted to keep the R-5 unit, but it needed to stay with the X-wing. Even after they found Tahiri's ship, that didn't mean they would find her. A planet was a big place to hide a person, never mind if she wasn't on the same planet as her ship.

 

As soon as she got on board Wyric's ship, he told her that he had a good place to start looking for Tahiri—a planet called Trigalis, in the Trigalis System, which was in the Juris Sector. He explained that the planet was notorious for smugglers, pirates, and related villainous scum.

 

Tahiri had been active in both the Juris and neighboring Ryndellian sectors. Ta'tan'ia felt a little something from the Force, but still, she wasn't convinced.

 

“A lot of planets in the Outer Rim have a lot of smugglers and such,” she replied. “What makes Trigalis so special?”

 

Wyric leaned forward in the pilot's seat. “Well, nothing in particular. But there are several dozen ships matching the description of Tahiri's that arrived just before she went missing, and haven't left yet. Besides, I have a feeling about it.”

 

Ta'tan'ia considered that a few moments. “Well, it's as good as place to start as any,” she finally answered.

 

She almost admitted that searching for ships that had been sitting in one place for nearly two weeks was a good idea, but after a moment she decided not to. She didn't want Wyric getting a big head after all.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Two days later, early afternoon . . .

 

Torri glanced around as she climbed onto Cyllir's swoop-bike and wrapped her arms around his waist. This was the most Zoloz she had seen together since she had recovered from her last overdose. Every member of the New Coronet chapter was heading out, except for Dirc and Torch. Quinn had had them—along with the prospect Chiv—stay behind and get everything ready for the party, and keep an eye on things around the clubhouse. None of them were too happy about it, but only Dirc protested. That hadn't made Quinn change his mind though.

 

Besides the fourteen New Coronet Zoloz on their swoop-bikes, ten members of the West Vella chapter—along with a prospect—were riding with them as well. Seth was driving a boxy black cargo speeder.

 

The two chapters were traveling to a spaceport to meet up with with some more Zoloz from . . . somewhere or another. Torri wasn't sure exactly how long of a ride it would be, or even exactly where they were going. She knew they weren't going to the New Coronet spaceport—which was close by—because it had too much security. Torri had also overheard that they were escorting a huge shipment of weapons on the return trip, but she wasn't supposed to know that, and sure as hell wasn't about to admit that she did. Cyllir had just told her to be ready for a long ride, and to get fucked—a lot! She couldn't wait!

 

Torri was wearing a red tube top that barely covered her tits, with a matching flippy miniskirt that came about eight or ten centimeters past her pussy, and her favorite pair of black ankle boots with fifteen-centimeter stiletto heels. Her tiny thong panties matched her miniskirt and top. A clear plastex belt was around her waist. As always, she had her black wristcuffs, collar, and other jewelry on. Like all of her clothes, these left most of her skin—and tattoos—exposed. Torri was also wearing a pair of black glareshades to protect her eyes from the sun.

 

The day before Cyllir had had Seth take her to a salon. Cyllir had commed ahead and left instructions one what he wanted done to her. He told her that they were going to make her look even sexier than she already was.

 

The two women working on her at the salon loved her look, especially her tats, and collar. Both confessed to having been to several Zoloz parties, and couldn't wait to go to another one. Torri promised to let Cyllir know they wanted to come.

 

First they cut her shoulder-length hair to a couple of centimeters above her durasteel collar. They told her that Cyllir wanted it to be seen no matter what. Then they lightened her now-shortened hair to platinum-blonde, and gave her heavy make-up with bright red lipsmear. The make-up and lipsmear shimmered. Next they applied bright red artificial nails to her fingers and toes. Her new fingernails were a full two centimeters long. They also put a little reddish glitter cream on her shoulders, around her navel, behind her ears just above her collar, and on the inside of her thighs. They told her that the make-up and glitter would probably last a couple of days, and her nails and hair at least a few months or so. Torri really liked her new look, as did Cyllir, and the other Zoloz.

 

While Torri was used to being on the back of a swoop-bike, she wasn't used to riding one for so long. After an hour or so she was starting to get a little sore. On the other hand, she was very much enjoying the vibrations of the engine on her pussy through her seat. She found herself gently rocking back and forth on the swoop-bike, and clutching Cyllir's waist even tighter. He just glanced back at her with a smile, and caressed her naked thigh. She responded by biting down on his shoulder through his nerfhide club vest, and pressing her ringed nipples against the back of it.

 

About two hours into their trip, they stopped to use the 'freshers, and generally stretch their legs. Torri was mostly horny after riding the swoop-bike for so long.

 

Apparently Cyllir was horny too. He grabbed her arm, and took her to the back of the cargo speeder Seth had been driving. Almost as soon as Cyllir closed the door behind them, Torri was pulling her soaked panties down her legs. Cyllir quickly pulled his pants off as well. His shirt and vest stayed on. All the Zoloz always fucked her wearing their vest. Seconds later, Torri was on her back with her legs wrapped around Cyllir's waist while he was enthusiastically fucking her into the floor of the speeder van.

 

In minutes Torri was moaning out in orgasm. Cyllir came right afterwards. Now that her sexual appetite was somewhat satisfied, Torri realized she had to pee more than anything else. Cyllir didn't care about that though. He told her to stay put, that some of the other Zoloz wanted to have some fun too.

 

Cyllir got dressed, then climbed out. A few seconds later, a Zoloz from the West Vella chapter climbed in. He was about average height, looked about forty, and was a little heavy.

 

Torri knew she had to obey any Zoloz, even if she didn't know them. That point had been made clear to her. Even though he was a stranger, he was a Zoloz.

 

Without saying a word, the newcomer unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock. Torri, who was still on her knees, smiled up at him, leaned forward, and wrapped her lips around the head. She pressed her tongue stud against his dick, causing it to vibrate, which elicited a groan from him. Torri smiled up at him again, and slid her mouth down his shaft. Her hoop earrings swayed back and forth as she bobbed her head up and down on his cock.

 

When he finished a few minutes later, another West Vella Zoloz was waiting. Torri licked her bright red lips as he climbed in.

 

After she sucked off a few more dicks in the back of the cargo speeder, Cyllir told her it was time to go.

 

“Um, I need to use the 'fresher,” Torri explained as she slid her thong back up her legs and adjusted her top.

 

“Hurry up,” he replied, slapping her ass.

 

The travel center they had stopped at had quick recharging stations for everything from small speeder-bikes to forty meter long cargo haulers. It also sold a wide assortment of food, drinks, and other supplies travelers might need. It even had a quick-serve restaurant.

 

Torri hurried towards the travel center. She could feel quite a few of the Zoloz' eyes on her as she strutted across the permacrete, and several other customers' watching her too.

 

Once she got inside the building, the feeling was even worse. Almost every woman flashed her a look of disdain, while most of the men stared lustily. Her stiletto heels on the hard floor—not to mention her tats, piercings, collar and cuffs—only drew even more attention to her. It felt like every eye in the place was on her as she strutted on her fifteen-centimeter heels across the restaurant. She wasn't really trying to show off, it was just natural for her to move to entice the Zoloz, so it was pretty much how she walked.

 

Torri made it to the 'fresher, and relieved herself. As she was checking her make-up and hair in the mirror, she realized that for the first time since her last overdose, she was all alone outside the clubhouse. There was a rear exit just a few meters from the 'fresher door. Somehow she knew she could easily get a ride with any of the lonely long distance cargo hauler drivers parked out back. After a moment she shook her head. She didn't want to ride around with some cargo hauler pilot.

 

Unknown to Torri, the moment she walked away from the Zoloz, Seth—under orders from Cyllir—began monitoring the movements of her tracking collar on his datapad. If she went anywhere she wasn't supposed to, they'd immediately know it, and could track her movements to the nearest decimeter. They could even shock her into unconsciousness if need be.

 

A couple of seconds later Torri walked out of the 'fresher. Once again all eyes immediately went to her. She even spotted a pair of police officers watching her strut across the restaurant. She slid her glareshades back down over her eyes, and did her best to ignore them, as well as everyone else.

 

Cyllir was waiting on her just out in front of the travel center. Torri climbed onto his swoop-bike behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. This was who she belonged with. She was a Zoloz Slut.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

At the New Coronet Spaceport, on Trigalis . . .

 

Less than ten hours after arriving on Trigalis, Ta'tan'ia and Wyric located Tahiri's ship. It was docked seven pits down from their own, under the name Swift Bantha. A notice on the entrance to the pit said the ship was several days past due on docking fees, and to report to the port office to pay them. While they could have easily circumvented the lock, it was easier just to pay the fees. Ta'tan'ia always felt a little guilty when she broke the rules anyway.

 

Once they paid the fees, they were able get free access to the ship. They also used the Force to make the clerk forget they had even been there. They considered just bribing him, but quickly decided a little memory suppression was safer.

 

Talon Ghent, the son of Crypt Chief Ghent, had given them a datapad specially programmed to slice into Tahiri's ship's computer. They attached it to the control panel next to the hatch, and set it to work.

 

A couple of hours later, the program indicated it was finished. For some reason though, the hatch wouldn't open. The two Jedi discussed the matter for a minute, then restarted the program. This time it only took about fifteen minutes to run. The hatch remained stubbornly secure.

 

Ta'tan'ia and Wyric double checked everything, and tried several times to get the hatch open again. Finally they decided to contact Talon Ghent for advice. If they had to they could always simply cut open the hatch with their lightsabers, but they didn't want to do that unless they had no other option.

 

Talon was as perplexed as they were. If the program said it had defeated the ship's security measures, then the hatch should open. He finally suggested they hire a local slicer, and even recommended one. Talon warned them not to let the slicer get a copy of his program though.

 

Nearly an hour later they had located the slicer. They didn't tell him he had been recommended though, as they didn't want him finding out who they were or who they were looking for if they could help it. Instead they just pretended to be a pair of bounty hunters looking for another one, who now had a bounty on her head. They agreed on a fee of five hundred credits for the attempt, plus fifteen hundred for success.

 

The slicer was a Bothan, perhaps forty years old. His fur was light tan over most of his body, and darker tan from his face to the top of his chest. Ta'tan'ia met him at the entrance to the docking facility, and escorted him to the pit.

 

“This is it,” she told him, somewhat unnecessarily, as they entered the pit.

 

“Okay,” the slicer responded. “You got my five hundred creds?”

 

“Right here,” the Twi'lek Jedi replied, passing him the credit chits. In spite of the confidence of his reply, Ta'tan'ia could sense he was hiding something. She glanced at Wyric, who was waiting by the ship. She could tell that he noticed it as well.

 

“What's wrong?” Ta'tan'ia asked.

 

“Nothing,” the Bothan answered quickly. Too quickly. After a couple of moments he sighed. “I've already tried to break into this ship's systems. I couldn't do it.”

 

The two Jedi exchanged another glance.

 

“Explain,” Wyric prodded him.

 

“About a week or so ago I was hired to slice into this ship's computer. I worked on it for nearly three days, and I couldn't get in.”

 

“Who hired you?” Ta'tan'ia asked curiously. They were sure to know something about Tahiri's whereabouts.

 

The Bothan hesitated again. “Just some Humans,” he answered with a shrug. “I'm not sure who they were exactly.”

 

Both Jedi could sense he was lying.

 

“But you have an idea?” Wyric stated, adding a little pressure with the Force. Ta'tan'ia added some as well.

 

“They said they'd kill me if I told anyone about them,” the slicer responded fearfully.

 

The two Jedi exchanged a glance. This made it all the more likely that they knew where Tahiri was, and were responsible for whatever had happened to her.

 

“You can tell us,” Ta'tan'ia told him as she began slowly circling him. “Whoever they are, we can take care of them. Kyle here isn't just eye candy,” she said, nodding towards Wyric. “He's defeated all sorts of villainous scum. He even took out the notorious slavers of Eden 7 all by himself.”

 

Ta'tan'ia did her best to ignore the feeling of amusement from Wyric. She did notice he kept outwardly calm, barely raising an eyebrow at her comments though.

 

She stopped right next to the slicer, facing him. Even though he wasn't talking, there was one word on his mind.

 

“Was it the Zoloz?” she asked him quietly.

 

The Bothan's eyes went wide. “Ye—Yeah,” he admitted reluctantly.

 

Ta'tan'ia knew the Zoloz were a major outlaw swoop-bike gang. There were like hundreds of thousands of them throughout the Outer and Mid-Rim. She knew there were a lot of them on Trigalis as well, probably even right here in New Coronet.

 

“We'll take care of the Zoloz,” she assured him. “For now, work on getting into the ship.”

 

The slicer seemed obviously reluctant. “I want five thousand when I get in,” he told them.

 

Ta'tan'ia and Wyric glanced at each other a moment.

 

“Done,” Wyric answered.

 

The two Jedi retreated to the entrance to the docking pit, and allowed him to get to work.

 

“Who's the Eden 7 slavers?” Wyric asked her once they were out of earshot.

 

Ta'tan'ia shrugged her shoulders. “I made them up,” she told him nonchalantly.

 

“And what if he does a HoloNet search and finds out they don't exist?” he asked.

 

“As long as it's after he gets the hatch open,” she answered, tapping the display screen on her beskar wrist comlink.

 

A split-second later, information on the local chapter of the Zoloz appeared on her comlink, and Wyric's datapad. They might as well learn what they could while they were waiting on their slicer.

 

For the next couple of hours, the Bothan worked on getting the hatch open. The two Jedi kept busy researching the Zoloz. They were confident the swoop-bike gang was worth investigating. Wyric was just about to leave for a recon when the slicer began disconnecting cables from the control panel. Both Jedi could feel his frustration. They glanced at each other, then walked back to the ship to see what was going on.

 

“There's nothing else I can do,” the Bothan told them as he shut down his portable computer terminal. “The hatch won't open.”

 

While he was still dismayed, they were now starting to sense something else from the slicer.

 

“You're quitting already?” Ta'tan'ia asked him. “Five thousand credits is a lot to give up on so easily.”

 

“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug. “But working for nothing is worse. I've done everything I can do. The kriffing thing won't open.”

 

The two Jedi exchanged a quick glance. That's what had happened with Talon Ghent's program.

 

“What do you mean it won't open?” Ta'tan'ia prodded.

 

The Bothan ran his hand through the fur on the back of his neck. “There doesn't seem to be anything stopping it from opening. It just won't budge.”

 

Ta'tan'ia and Wyric glanced at each other again, and came to a silent agreement.

 

“Fine,” she replied. “Thanks for trying.”

 

“No problem,” the slicer answered, turning towards the exit.

 

“Oh, one more thing,” Wyric added, producing a fifty credit chit, and holding it out for him. “Don't mention us to anyone, okay?”

 

“No problem,” the Bothan replied with a friendly smile, after a moment's hesitation. He took the chit, and deftly pocketed it.

 

The two Jedi exchanged a questioning glance with each other, and quickly came to another silent agreement.

 

“As matter of fact,” Ta'tan'ia began, taking a step towards the slicer. “Why don't you just forget about us and this ship all together?” she commanded him, backing up the command with the Force, and a hand on his shoulder. She could feel Wyric assisting her.

 

A few moments later, they sent the Bothan on his way with a slightly confused look on his face, and no memory of the two bounty hunters, or the ship he couldn't manage to slice into for the second time.

 

“He was going to tell the Zoloz,” Wyric commented once he was gone.

 

“I know,” Ta'tan'ia agreed. “Quinn, the local president.” They had both sensed the name and title from his thoughts. They knew who Quinn was from the intel info they had just reviewed. “The question is, was it his idea to tell them, or did they tell him to let them know if anyone came around Tahiri's ship?” she asked.

 

Wyric considered that a moment. “It would make more sense for them to have the dockmaster or someone keeping a lookout on the ship,” he responded thoughtfully. “How would they know we'd hire the same slicer they did?”

 

“Yeah, you're probably right,” she conceded, wondering if anyone else had noticed them around Tahiri's ship. “And that means they might already know we're here.”

 

“I don't think so,” he replied. “We found the ship nearly eight hours ago. The Zoloz are here in New Coronet. If they knew we were here, we'd know it by now. Swoop-bike gangs are rarely subtle.”

 

“Yeah,” Ta'tan'ia agreed with a nod. “That makes sense.”

 

“And even if they do, we'll be fine,” Wyric assured her confidently. “After all, I took out the notorious slavers of Eden 7 all by myself.”

 

Ta'tan'ia rolled her eyes and let out a soft sigh. “Well, if you're so great, why haven't you opened the hatch to Tahiri's ship?”

 

“I don't do hatches,” he replied with a shrug. “Just slavers and related villainous scum.”

 

Ta'tan'ia let out another little groan of annoyance. Suddenly, she had an idea. Master Skywalker's ship, the Jade Shadow, had a Force-operated switch hidden in the hull to open its hatch. Since Tahiri was a Jedi, or at least a Force user, it would stand to reason she might have something similar.

 

Ta'tan'ia reached out with the Force towards the hatch. A little below the control panel, between the inner and out hull, she found something. It was a thick durasteel bar, about twenty centimeters long, holding the hatch closed. Ta'tan'ia manipulated it with the Force, trying to figure out which way it moved. After a couple of seconds the bar effortlessly slid horizontally away from the door. She opened her eyes in time to see the hatch open with a quiet beep.

 

As Wyric congratulated her, Ta'tan'ia sent a quick update to Master Solo, telling her they had gained access. Then she and Wyric cautiously entered the ship. The corridor was covered with a thick, grass-like carpeting. The two Jedi glanced at each other, then Ta'tan'ia headed aft, while Wyric searched forward.

 

The first thing Ta'tan'ia found were the holding cells. Both were empty. Next she went into the small cargo hold in the aft of the ship. It didn't have anything out of the ordinary. Everything in it was stowed away or secured, just as any good spacer would keep their ship. Then Ta'tan'ia went into Tahiri's cabin.

 

Just like the cargo hold, it was neat and orderly. Like the corridor by the hatch, it was covered with a grass-like carpet. Ta'tan'ia opened the closet, and found several pieces of black armor. There were plates that looked to be fitted for Tahiri's upper arms, forearms, thighs, and shins. There was also a pair of gloves with armored knuckles, and various other pieces of bounty hunting gear, including several sets of stun-cuffs. There was even a black collar that matched the armor.

 

Since Ta'tan'ia had worn Mandalorian Iron around her wrists and neck for over half a year now—and had a chastity belt made of it she frequently wore—she definitely knew the armor she was looking at was beskar and not durasteel. She also noticed that there wasn't any torso armor, which was pretty much the most important part of a set. From Wyric's report of his encounter with Tahiri, and previous knowledge, the Jedi knew that Tahiri had basically a complete set of beskar armor, although she rarely wore the distinctive Mandalorian helmet.

 

The cabin seemed as though Tahiri had just stepped out awhile, and might return at any moment. Ta'tan'ia stood in the middle of the room, letting the Force flow through her for guidance. After a couple of minutes, she realized she wasn't getting anywhere. She sighed, and walked out.

 

Finally Ta'tan'ia joined Wyric on the bridge. He already had Talon Ghent's datacard hooked up to the main computer. They quickly went to Tahiri's log, which told them who she had come to Trigalis to capture. The last entry listed a few contacts and locations she was going to check out.

 

Next Wyric did a search on the Zoloz, and they found out about the incident on Trallis II where Tahiri's former partner, Kazzok, lost his arm. They also discovered that Tahiri had put a priority on Zoloz with bounties. The Jedi wondered if that had something to do with whatever had happened to her.

 

“Why don't you go investigate the last few places Tahiri said she was going to visit,” Ta'tan'ia suggested after they had searched the ship's logs a bit.

 

“Okay,” Wyric agreed with a nod. Then he gave her a suspicious glance. “What are you going to do?”

 

“Oh, check out the nearest Zoloz clubhouse,” she answered absently, flicking her tchun. “Maybe Tahiri will be there.”

 

“Um, maybe we should do that together,” he countered.

 

“Are you saying I can't handle a simple surveillance mission?” Ta'tan'ia asked him, letting a hint of annoyance into her voice.

 

“No,” Wyric responded defensively, which was just what she had planned. Then he paused, and ran through a quick calming exercise. “Look. We both feel that the Zoloz have something to do with Tahiri's disappearance. No sense in taking chances with them again.”

 

“I'll be careful,” Ta'tan'ia assured him firmly. “It will be faster if we split up. Whichever of us finishes first can join the other.”

 

Wyric stared at her for a few seconds. “All right,” he conceded. “But comm me if you need me.”

 

“No, you comm me if you need me,” Ta'tan'ia countered.

 

Wyric gave her hard look, then smiled. “Of course I will,” he replied with a nod.

 

Ta'tan'ia didn't bother to tell him that she would comm him if she needed him as well. They both knew she would. Wyric took the speeder from their ship, while Ta'tan'ia found an air-taxi to take her to the Zoloz clubhouse. As it pulled away, she pulled up information on the clubhouse on her wristcomm.

 

For this mission Ta'tan'ia was wearing her black knee boots with her fifteen-centimeter wedge heels, her armored black bodysuit, and a matching nerfhide head harness. The sleeves mostly hid her beskar chrono and comlink cuffs, and the bodysuit's collar mostly hid her beskar collar. She also had a nerfhide belt around her waist, with a blaster on her hip. A small vibroblade was hidden underneath the left sleeve of her bodysuit. She wore a loose gray calf-length traveler's cloak over the bodysuit, with a second blaster in an inside pocket. Underneath the bodysuit she was only wearing her beskar chastity belt.

 

The clubhouse was a good-sized single story permacrete building. There were a couple of windows on the front along with a door. To the left of the door, from Ta'tan'ia's perspective, there were several chairs and an old poufcouch underneath an overhang. There was parking for at least eighteen or twenty speeder-bikes in front as well, although there weren't any present at the moment.

 

Any alley ran along the left side of the building. Ta'tan'ia pulled up a schematic of the building on the local HoloNet, and found out that the alley ran to a basement area in the rear. The main floor of the clubhouse consisted of a large room—nearly half the building—in the front, a hallway leading to four bedrooms and a couple of 'freshers. The basement area had another large room, and a couple of small rooms that looked to be closets, and a 'fresher. The large basement room had a door wide enough for a speeder to go through leading to the alley.

 

Of course she didn't have the air-taxi drop her off right in front. She rode past the clubhouse, and got out on the next block.

 

She reached out towards the clubhouse with the Force, to get a feel for it. The building felt empty. More importantly, she didn't feel Tahiri at all, and specifically not Tahiri, or anyone for that matter, being held prisoner. Ta'tan'ia really wanted get inside and have a look around. If Tahiri had been held inside, she should find some evidence. Wyric would flip if she did something so risky though.

 

Well, what Wyric doesn't know won't hurt him, Ta'tan'ia thought to herself as she she eyed the clubhouse.

 

First she checked the local HoloNet for unusually high power consumption or other indicators of an alarm system. Since she didn't find any, she headed down the street, towards the alley leading to the back of the clubhouse. As Ta'tan'ia walked, she set her wrist comm to vibrate. She definitely didn't want it going off while she was searching the Zoloz clubhouse. After a few moments' thought, and a few more steps, she programmed it to automatically emit a distress signal after thirty minutes, and activate the tracking signal built into her collar. No sense in taking chances.

 

Ta'tan'ia found a small window about two meters high along the rear wall of the clubhouse. She reached out with the Force again to make sure the clubhouse was empty, then made her entry.

 

The main room of the basement level was a garage. There were a couple of speeder-bikes that looked like they were being worked on, and quite a lot of spare parts lying around.

 

On the main floor she found herself in the largest room of the clubhouse, taking up nearly half of the total floor. There was a bar along one wall, with a few tables out in front of it. A huge holoscreen hung on the opposite wall, with a couple of poufcouches and several poufchairs arranged to watch it. Ta'tan'ia had never been inside an outlaw swoop-bike clubhouse, but it seemed to be mainly for partying. There was a small stage with a stripper pole near one corner. Keeping alert through the Force—and her other senses—Ta'tan'ia moved into the other rooms.

 

In one of the bedroom closets Ta'tan'ia found some particularly cheap and slutty looking clothes. While they could pretty much belong to any woman that hung out with swoop-bikers, they looked like they could fit Tahiri—barely. There was also a small stash of bondage equipment in the closet. Ta'tan'ia found several chains and durasteel bars with maglocks on either end, just like her own bondage equipment, and some painful looking nipple clamps. There didn't seem to be any collars or wristcuffs though.

 

Tahiri's beskar collar was in her cabin on board her ship. Ta'tan'ia knew that she had also frequently worn durasteel chrono and comlink cuffs. Perhaps she still was, and they were functioning as restraints instead of communication devices.

 

If Tahiri is wearing her comlink though, why hasn't she tried to contact someone? Ta'tan'ia wondered. She checked her own six-centimeter-wide beskar wristcomm again, and confirmed that there wasn't any sort of jamming in the area. Then she wondered if Tahiri had more than one collar, and might be wearing another one with her chrono and comlink.

 

Since Ta'tan'ia's collar and cuffs were permanent, she really had no need for others. She did have some thin durasteel bands of various colors she could put over them, but that was about it. Guess Chief Daala saved me some credits too, she thought with a wry smile.

 

After a few moments, Ta'tan'ia left the room, careful to leave everything how she had found it. Besides a black nerfhide halter top on the floor next to a bed, she didn't find anything interesting in the other three bedrooms. The top stuck out because the rest of the main floor seemed pretty well kept for an outlaw swoop-biker clubhouse.

 

As she searched, Ta'tan'ia got a feel for the clubhouse. She definitely didn't sense that anyone—especially a Jedi—was being held there against their will.

 

Just off the main room a pair of double doors led to a meeting room dominated by a large wooden table. The table was surrounded by more than a dozen high-backed nerfhide chairs which seemed suited for executive types. Several more chairs, not quite as large, were pushed against two walls. Painted on the wall opposite from Ta'tan'ia was a large rancor, sitting astride a swoop-bike, with both engulfed in flames. The same thing was engraved in the middle of the table.

 

Behind what seemed like the head of the table—which was to her left—Ta'tan'ia spotted a pair of doors. She opened them, and found a closet with two large safes inside. They were on opposite sides, with about half-a-meter between them. One was about neck-high, the other came to her belly button. Both looked very formidable, and were locked.

 

Ta'tan'ia barely noticed the safes though. Her eyes were on the black torso armor sitting on top of the shorter safe. It was shaped for a woman just about Tahiri's size. The beskar armor was also exactly what was missing from the set in Tahiri's cabin.

 

While it was theoretically possible the Zoloz had taken their trophy off some female Mando who wore black armor, Ta'tan'ia was positive this armor belonged to Tahiri. That meant the Zoloz had her. Or at least had had her. One way or another, she was going to get answers.

 

And she was taking the armor.

 

First she pulled off her long gray coat, and tossed it over the back of the nearest chair. Then she picked up the armor, and put it on. It was a little big on her, but she got it closed. As she was pulling her coat back on, she heard the front door to the clubhouse opening, and male voices. She glanced at the open door to the meeting room, and quickly stepped into the closet, pulling that door behind her, but leaving it cracked half-a-centimeter or so. Then she hopped up onto the shorter of the two safes, crouched next to the armor, and peeked through the gap. She was careful not to get too close though. She also pulled out her blaster, just in case.

 

“Who the frakk left the door open!?” someone shouted from the main room of the clubhouse.

 

A moment later Ta'tan'ia watched someone approach the door to the meeting room, and stick his head in. As he glanced around, she used the Force to keep him from noticing the open closet door. After looking around a couple of moments, he obligingly closed the meeting room door, without suspecting a thing.

 

Ta'tan'ia waited a few seconds, then hopped down off the safe, and stepped out of the closet. She hurried over to the doors leading to the main room, and peeked through the crack between them. She saw one man in a Zoloz vest, talking with at least two others out of her line of sight. A couple of seconds later, one of them came into her view. More important than seeing them though, was listening to what they were saying.

 

For the next ten minutes or so, Ta'tan'ia listened to them talk. She picked up that the more muscular one was named Dirc, and one of the others Torch, but she wasn't sure which one. She also learned that they were expecting some other Zoloz to arrive in a few hours, with a lot of blasters.

 

Finally they finished their conversation. Dirc and one of the others left the clubhouse, and the third one disappeared into the back, towards the bedrooms. Ta'tan'ia knew it was her best chance to escape undetected. She reached out with the Force, and made sure the way was clear. Then she opened the door, stepped out into the main room, and quietly closed the door behind her.

 

The front door was nearer, but opened onto a busy street where anyone might see her. The two Zoloz might even still be just outside. She would simply have to slip past the lone Zoloz in the rear part of the clubhouse.

 

As Ta'tan'ia made her way down the hallway, she heard the sound of water running in one of the 'freshers off one of the bedrooms. She quickly slipped past that door, and ran down the steps to the basement. Mere seconds later she was in the alley, heading away from the clubhouse.

 

Ta'tan'ia got to the next block, then caught an air taxi. As it took off, she deactivated the programmed distress and tracking signals in her comlink and collar. She had the air taxi drop her off about half-a-klick from the spaceport. From there she headed back to Wyric's ship. As she neared the ship, her wrist comlink automatically signaled the ship's computer to open the hatch for her.

 

The first thing she did when she got on board was take off Tahiri's torso armor. Then she logged in what she had discovered at the clubhouse. She debated contacting Master Solo and reporting it to her directly, but decided to talk it over with Wyric first.

 

While she waited for her fellow Jedi to return, Ta'tan'ia looked over the information they had on the Zoloz again. There were at least four thousand known members on Trigalis. Like most swoop-bike gangs, they were divided into local chapters, which mostly operated autonomously. Each chapter typically had ten to twenty or so members.

 

The local chapter was known to shake down businesses for protection credits, as well as being involved in smuggling and the spice trade. Pretty much all of the members had arrests for thefts, robberies, assaults, and weapons charges. Several of them were known to pimp out prostitutes as well.

 

Scum.

 

Ta'tan'ia's finger hovered over a link to a list of known Zoloz and associates in the New Coronet area. The information was mostly gathered from law enforcement on Trigalis. There had been improvements in local police agencies in the past several years, but they were still largely corrupt. It was basically accepted that they would sell information to local criminals, and sometimes even actively assist them. After a few moments though, Ta'tan'ia decided not to look at the list. It was probably mostly ronko shavit anyway.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

On the Zoloz' trip to the spaceport . . .

 

A couple of hours after the first stop, the group stopped again, this time at a pair of quick-serve restaurants. Just like last time, Cyllir sent Torri to the back of the speeder van. He didn't go with her though. Instead Quinn followed her. They climbed in, and Torri happily gave him a blow-job. When Quinn got out, Lukis climbed in. He preferred regular sex, and of course Torri obliged him.

 

This time Torri sucked off four Zoloz, and had sex with several more. A few of them commented about how much more enjoyable this trip was with her. She made sure to thank them, and tell them how much fun she was having too. It was nice to be wanted.

 

Torri had been having sex much longer than she had at the first stop. Finally one of the Zoloz from West Vella climbed out, and no one got in. Torri was about to get out too when the front door opened.

 

“Cyllir says you're riding with me for a while,” Seth announced as he got into the driver's seat. “If you got to use the 'fresher, then hurry the frakk up. We're leaving in a couple of minutes.”

 

Torri was a little disappointed, and confused. She knew not to ask why though. If Cyllir said she was riding with Seth, then she was riding with Seth.

 

“Okay,” she answered, climbing out of the back of the speeder van.

 

Torri glanced around, and saw that most of the Zoloz were already on their swoop-bikes. A few were still streaming out of the two restaurants though. Torri hurried towards the nearer one, and found the 'fresher. Once again, she could feel pretty much every eye in the place on her as her heels tapped on the floor. On her way out she realized she was hungry. She didn't have any credits though, so she headed back out to the Zoloz.

 

She wanted to find Cyllir and ask him for some credits to get something to eat, but Seth had pulled the speeder van right up to the exit. When Torri opened the passenger door, she found a bag with one of the restaurant's logos on it on her seat, and a cup in the console. Torri smiled to herself at Cyllir's thoughtfulness, climbed in, and buckled her safety harness. As Seth and the other Zoloz headed out, she began eating.

 

When Torri finished her dinner, she and Seth started talking, mostly just about random stuff. She found out that he had been a prospect for about nine months, and had three to go. She also realized that he hadn't had a chance to get even a blow-job from her today. Torri knew that since he was a prospect, he was always basically last in line for everything. She thought about it for a few seconds, then unbuckled her safety harness, turned and leaned over towards him.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked, a little surprised.

 

“Just relax,” Torri answered a she began fishing his cock out of his pants.

 

A moment later she pressed her tongue—and vibrating stud—against his shaft, and began licking. Then she wrapped her lips around the tip, and slid it into her mouth as far as she could. In response, she felt him raise his hips a few centimeters, and let out a soft grunt. Soon Torri fell into the familiar rhythm of giving a nice, slow, blow-job.

 

Even though her memory only went back to her last big oh-dee, she knew she had spent quite a bit of time on her knees sucking Zoloz cocks, and she was pretty sure she had sucked plenty before, too. They pretty much all told her she was a natural, so she must have been doing it a long time. She was sure they had a while to go until the spaceport, so there was no hurry; she had plenty of time to finish him off.

 

Sometime later, Torri thought it was maybe ten minutes or so, she heard the distinct sound of a swoop-bike horn next to the speeder van. She lifted her head—leaving a trail of cum going down to the tip of Seth's cock—and saw Cyllir riding along-side the driver's door, staring angrily at them. He was also gesturing for them to pull over.

 

Torri guiltily sat back up as Seth muttered a few curse words. She looked ahead, and realized they were going a lot slower than rest of the Zoloz. Most of the swoop-bikes were about half-a-klick or so in front of them. Only Cyllir and a couple of others had stayed behind with them. Seth brought the speeder van to a stop, and waited for the Zoloz Vice President.

 

“What the frakk are you doing!?” Cyllir demanded as he pulled alongside.

 

“Just getting a blowj—” Seth began, only to be cut off by Cyllir.

 

“While you're piloting a speeder van!? Are you kriffing stupid!? You were all over the road!”

 

Torri did her best to disappear into the passenger seat.

 

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” Seth replied hastily.

 

“Shut up!” Cyllir told him. “Get over here, you little slut!” he added, gesturing towards the back seat of his swoop-bike.

 

Torri obeyed instantly. She was out of the speeder van and climbing on behind him in a matter of seconds.

 

“Now stay the frakk up with everyone else!” Cyllir yelled at the prospect, waving him forward. “And pay the frakk attention before you kill somebody!”

 

Seth wisely took off without replying. Cyllir muttered another disparaging curse towards him, then took off as well. Sidd, Lukis and the two Zoloz from the West Vella that had stopped followed close behind.

 

Torri rode in silence. She hadn't thought about causing a crash, and hoped Cyllir wouldn't stay mad at her for too long. She definitely didn't want him pissed at her. She needed the Zoloz to take care of her.

 

A little over half-an-hour after she gotten back on Cyllir's swoop-bike, the two Zoloz chapters arrived at the spaceport. The other Zoloz were already there, offloading their swoop-bikes from the transport. Torri guessed there were about twenty-five or so of them. They also had two boxy, enclosed cargo haulers that looked to be about thirty-five or forty meters long, and one that was about twenty-five meters long.

 

As soon as the swoop-bike came to a stop, Cyllir and Torri climbed off. The two groups of Zoloz were already breaking up and enthusiastically greeting one another. Torri immediately began adjusting her top and skirt. She knew Cyllir wanted to show her off to the other Zoloz, so she wanted to look as sexy as she could. As she was running her fingers through her hair, he grabbed her wrist, and stepped away from his speeder-bike.

 

Torri obediently stuck with Cyllir as he worked his way through the swoop-bikers, greeting his fellow Zoloz. All of them seemed to be very interested in her. They really wanted to check out her collar, and tattoos, not to mention her tits and ass. Cyllir happily let them as they chatted. He kept a firm grip on her wristcuff as they moved through the crowd though.

 

Since Cyllir seemed to approve, Torri happily flirted with the various Zoloz as they fondled or slapped her tits, ass, or anywhere else their hands roamed. Suddenly she sensed that Cyllir was particularly surprised to see someone.

 

The Zoloz Cyllir was surprised to see was a little over average height, and slightly heavyset with long brown hair. His tattooed arms looked to be muscular though. He really didn't look too much different from most of the other Zoloz Torri had seen, except he walked with a cane, and a very noticeable limp.

 

“Hey bro!” Cyllir said excitedly as he embraced his fellow Zoloz from Trallis II with one arm, while keeping a firm grip on Torri's wrist with the other hand. “I thought you were down for that robbery and shavit?”

 

“I was,” he replied nonchalantly. “They had to drop the charges,” he explained. “The witness didn't show up for court.”

 

“Great,” Cyllir answered, nodding his head expectantly.

 

“And he's never going to show up anywhere ever again,” another nearby Zoloz from Trallis II added with an evil grin.

 

Cyllir paused a moment, then burst out in laughter. All of the nearby Zoloz who had heard the conversation happily joined in. Torri laughed as well, even though she wasn't a hundred percent sure why.

 

“Oh yeah, there's someone I want you to meet,” Cyllir announced after they'd had a good laugh. He paused to nudge Torri forward half-a-step. “Krayt, this is Torri Antilles. Torri, this is one of my brothers from Trallis II, Krayt.”

 

Torri smiled, and obediently posed so Krayt could get a good look at her.

 

“So this is her,” Krayt commented as his eyes roamed her body, lingering on her various tats and piercings.

 

Torri arched her back so her tits stuck out, and ran her hands down her mostly bare sides to show off.

 

“Damn she's sexy,” Krayt added. “Especially when she's not shooting at me.”

 

Torri frowned in confusion. She had never met him that she remembered, and definitely hadn't shot at him, or anyone. She couldn't imagine how bad Cyllir or Quinn or Dirc would beat her if she shot at a Zoloz. Hell, she had never even shot a blaster period, that she remembered.

 

Cyllir muttered a curse.

 

Now Torri looked at him in confusion.

 

“Turn around, babe,” he instructed her, pulling a short chain with a maglock at either end out of his pocket.

 

Now Torri was really confused. She turned away from him though, and automatically put her hands behind her back like she had been told. Just as she figured, he cuffed her wrists together. Then he turned her back around.

 

“Frakk,” Cyllir muttered with a sigh again. “Look babe, you probably don't remember, but you met Krayt here a couple of months ago,” he said, looking into Torri's eyes. “And you shot him in the leg.”

 

Now all the nearby Zoloz chuckled, obviously amused for some reason.

 

“I shot him!?” she asked in disbelief, tugging against her cuffs. She didn't understand why the Zoloz thought that was funny either. “Why'd I do that!? How'd I do that!?”

 

Cyllir took a deep breath. “Look, we were going to tell you this later on, but I guess we can go ahead and do it now.”

 

Torri stared at him, and stamped her stiletto-heeled foot expectantly.

 

“You know how we told you that you were just a chick hanging around the clubhouse and stuff, and you oh-de'ed on glitteryll and lost your memory?”

 

“Yeah,” Torri answered with a nod.

 

“Well, that's not exactly true. You were a bounty hunter. A couple of months ago you tried to get Krayt and a couple of other Zoloz on Trallis II, and you shot him in the leg while he was trying to get away.”

 

Torri didn't know how to respond to that. Somehow she could tell it was the truth though.

 

“I spotted you in New Coronet about a month ago. We captured you, gave you some ryll, and told you you oh-de'ed when you woke up,” Cyllir explained.

 

Torri stared at him in stunned silence. She couldn't believe what he was saying. She had been a bounty hunter?

 

“At first we were going to kill you, but we decided to give you a chance to make it up to us instead,” Cyllir told her. He paused a second, then added, with a broad grin, “Which you're doing great at, by the way.”

 

Torri was still too stunned to reply. This was a complete shock to her. For once she felt like she actually wanted some crude or something. Or a stiff shot of whiskey.

 

“Anyway,” Cyllir continued, “we've pretty much forgiven you. The New Coronet Zoloz, that is. Once we got to know you, we found out how great of a girl you really are,” he explained, reaching out and twisting one of her nipple rings through her top. “Now all you need to convince Krayt and Mako and the others from Trallis II though.”

 

Torri winced a little from the pain in her nipple, mostly so Cyllir would think it really hurt. The truth was a little nipple twisting turned her on more than anything else.

 

Since she had recovered from her oh-dee, the Zoloz had frequently beaten and whipped her when she didn't obey them, or do her best to please them. Or just for fun. Now she was surprised they hadn't done worse. Instead they had given her a chance to make it up to them.

 

She was already expecting to fuck a lot of the visiting Zoloz. When she saw that Cyllir was really surprised to see Krayt, she had figured on giving him something extra special. Now she would just have to make sure she gave them the time of their lives. Especially Krayt, who was now eyeing her lustily.

 

“I'm so sorry for shooting you,” Torri said apologetically, taking a step towards him. “I oh-de'ed on ryll a few weeks ago, so I don't even remember it. I'll do anything you want to make it up to you,” she told him. “Anything at all.”

 

The fact that she had phrased it I oh-de'ed never even entered into her mind. All she knew was that she was a drug using swoop-biker slut. She hadn't even wrapped her head around the fact that she had been a bounty hunter. She didn't even know if she wanted to. In her mind, she had always been a Zoloz slut.

 

“No problem babe,” Krayt replied with a smile. “I really like the changes since the last time I saw you. Especially the tats.” As he spoke, he reached out, and ran his hand down the flaming pattern on her side.

 

“Thanks,” Torri responded with her own smile, raising her cuffed wrists up and away from her back to give him easier access as she took another half-step towards him. At the same time, she automatically glanced at Cyllir for his approval.

 

He nodded his head, and Torri began slowly turning, to let Krayt and the other nearby Zoloz see the rest of her tats. She had quite a few that were visible.

 

ZOLOZ SLUT was tattooed over a pattern of flames across the small of her back. The same thing was also tattooed on the outside of her right wrist and ankle, without the flames. Her left wrist and ankle had the words I SUCK ZOLOZ COCK. Each of her shoulders had the Zoloz' rancor logo over a flaming background. The word PROPERTY was curved over the top of the logo, and OF ZOLOZ below it. PROPERTY OF ZOLOZ was also tattooed between her shoulder blades, over a background of flames. A ten-centimeter-wide pattern of flames ran down her sides, from underneath her skimpy red tube top to her ankles.

 

The tube top and tiny miniskirt Torri was wearing hid a few more of her tats as well. She had large hoop earrings that were eight-centimeters in diameter, bars through the tops of her ears, a curved bar through her right eyebrow, a stud through her left nostril and a belly button stud. The outline of her fifteen-millimeter nipple rings were visible underneath the tube top.

 

“Let's show 'em your tits,” Cyllir told her, stepping forward and snatching her tube top down to her waist.

 

Torri obediently arched her back, and stuck her C-cup tits out even more. She was surrounded by several dozen swoop-bikers so there wasn't really a chance of someone protesting, not that they would have cared anyway.

 

“We're gonna get them enlarged soon,” Cyllir commented as Torri displayed her pierced and tattooed tits. “Some nice big double-dees.”

 

Torri's mouth opened in shock. They were going to get her bigger tits! And they hadn't even told her about it! While the latter thought annoyed her a little, the idea of bigger tits definitely turned her on.

 

“Sweet,” Krayt replied appreciatively as he stared at them.

 

The thick durasteel rings hanging from her nipples were most noticeable. The flames tattooed down her sides connected with the flaming pattern around the base of her breasts. There were quite a few whistles and similar comments. All the Zoloz definitely approved.

 

“As matter of fact Torri,” Cyllir began, “why don't you go ahead and show Krayt here the tongue stud too.”

 

“Oh, okay,” Torri answered, still imagining herself with bigger tits. She obediently opened her mouth wide and stuck her tongue out towards the Zoloz. Her tits were still completely exposed, pointing towards him as well.

 

“Sexy,” he responded with a smile, his eyes moving between her tongue and tits.

 

“No, I mean show him what you do with it,” Cyllir told her.

 

Torri stared at him in confusion a moment, then she realized what he was talking about.

 

“Here?” she answered in surprise, looking around. “Now?” Showing her tits in public was one thing, giving a blow-job was another.

 

Then Torri thought of all the stuff they had done for her, after what she'd done. She wasn't about to throw all that away. If they wanted her to suck Krayt's dick in the middle of the spaceport,then she was going to suck his dick in the middle of the spaceport.

 

“Now,” Cyllir told her firmly, grabbing the back of her head and pushing her towards him.

 

“Okay,” she replied, already stepping forward to obey. “Sorry.”

 

Torri squatted down on her fifteen-centimeter heels in front of Krayt. Since her hands were still cuffed behind her back, he unzipped his pants, and fished out his cock. It was about average thickness compared to most of the others she had seen, and probably close to twenty centimeters long. She smiled up at him, and pressed her tongue stud against the underside of his cock.

 

The stud began vibrating, eliciting a surprised moan of arousal—and a few incomprehensible words—from Krayt. Still smiling up at him, she slowly licked his shaft a few times, to get it nice and wet. Then she wrapped her lips around his dick, and slid it into her mouth. She kept the tongue stud pressed firmly against the shaft, to keep it vibrating, and keep him moaning in arousal.

 

It was a little weird with so many people watching, but Torri just concentrated on giving the best blow-job she could. As she slowly slid her lips down his shaft, she wondered how many Zoloz she was going to suck off today. She didn't think it would be very many, at least until they got back to the clubhouse. She was sure they'd all want to feel her lips wrapped around their cocks sooner or later though. All of the New Coronet Zoloz certainly had!

 

In a matter of minutes Torri had Krayt almost ready to burst. She held her tongue firmly against the underside, and wrapped her lips tightly around the base, sucking hard. After a couple of seconds she felt him tense, then erupt into her mouth. Just like she had learned, Torri obediently swallowed every drop, while glancing at Cyllir for his approval. He gave her a silent nod, and she grinned—as best she could around Krayt's softening cock.

 

“Kriff, you sure can suck a dick,” Krayt told her breathlessly as he recovered from his orgasm. Then he looked down at her for a few seconds. “That doesn't mean you're off the hook for shooting me though,” he added, grabbing her by her hair and tilting her head back.

 

Torri gulped timidly. “I'm sorry,” she repeated nervously, looking up at him from her knees.

 

The next thing she knew, she was being lifted off the ground by her hair. She quickly stumbled to get her stiletto-heeled feet underneath herself, to take her weight.

 

“Don't worry about it though, slut,” Krayt said, still holding her by her hair. As he spoke, he reached out with his other hand and twisted her nipple—hard. “I'll give you another chance to make it up to me soon.”

 

Torri winced in pain, and made sure to let him see it on her face. Inside though, she felt a surge of arousal. A little pain always turned her on. She loved being a Zoloz slut!

 

After a few seconds, Krayt let go of her hair, and nipple ring.

 

“Damn brother, thanks for that,” he said to Cyllir, completely ignoring the cuffed and tattooed blonde who had actually given him the blow-job. “She's frakking something else.”

 

“No problem,” Cyllir responded with a grin, stepping over and putting his hand on the back of her neck possessively. “She's available anytime while you're here.”

 

Krayt nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I got to say, when I heard you had captured this schutta, and had decided not to kill her, I was really pissed. But now I think you might have handled it the right way.”

 

“Well, it was a close vote,” Cyllir told him with a nonchalant shrug. “But everything's seemed to work out.”

 

Torri's eyes went open in shock. They had took a vote to kill me!

 

Cyllir glanced at Torri, then pulled her in close. “Relax baby,” he told her. “The close vote was where to keep you, we weren't going to kill you.”

 

Torri didn't think he was telling her the complete truth, but she knew better than to question him. “Um, thanks,” she replied apprehensively.

 

Cyllir turned Torri, and uncuffed her. Then they headed back to his swoop-bike. Before long the Zoloz started heading back towards New Coronet.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Part IV: Party Girl ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Nearly half an hour after she returned to the ship, Wyric arrived. It was obvious he was in a good mood.

 

“Hey, look what I found,” Wyric announced triumphantly, pulling a silver cylindrical-shaped object from his pocket as he entered the cockpit.

 

Any Jedi—and many other beings—would instantly recognize a lightsaber. However, only a few would immediately know that this one belonged to Tahiri Veila.

 

“Good work,” Ta'tan'ia replied with an appreciative nod, and a smug smile. “Where'd you find it?”

 

“At the antiques shop that was on Tahiri's list,” Wyric told her. “It was underneath some shelves. I did a HoloNet search and the owner was found dead from a blaster bolt to the chest about five weeks ago. Even though there were several blaster holes in the walls, and the place had been ransacked, the police ruled it a suicide,” he explained dryly.

 

“Good work,” Ta'tan'ia repeated. “Look what I found.” As she spoke, she unzipped her coat, and pulled it down to her waist, revealing the black armor. “Tahiri's beskar torso armor.”

 

“Wow,” Wyric answered in surprise, staring at her chest. “Where? How?”

 

She had decided to put it and her coat back on in order to surprise him. Actually her first idea was to hide it under her coat, then get him to punch her in the stomach, but she didn't want him to break his hand, not that she thought she could convince him to punch her anyway. Him finding Tahiri's lightsaber was pretty surprising too though.

 

“In a closet in the meeting room of their clubhouse,” she responded casually. “While I was searching the place. I also overheard some of the Zoloz talking about some other Zoloz that were coming to visit in about six hours or so. They're planning a huge party for them. The visitors are apparently from Trallis II, and are bringing in a couple of cargo speeders full of blasters as well,” she explained with a shrug, as if how she got the information were no big deal.

 

Wyric stared at her in shock for a moment.

 

“What!? You went into the Zoloz clubhouse without even telling me?” he shouted. “What if you had got caught?”

 

Even though she had been half-teasing him with her casual attitude, Ta'tan'ia understood the risk she had taken.

 

“They didn't though,” she replied firmly. “I'm a Jedi. If I can't sneak into an outlaw swoop-biker lair without getting caught, then I should just stay on Ossus.” She didn't mention the fact that she had programmed her wrist comm to emit a distress signal after half-an-hour.

 

“If they even suspect you were there, it could blow our whole mission,” Wyric told her.

 

“Look, we aren't going to rescue Tahiri unless we take a few risks,” the purple-skinned Twi'lek responded. “I was careful. Everything will be fine.”

 

“Okay. Okay,” Wyric said. “Just next time, please let me know when you do something like that, so I can be ready to back you up.”

 

“Of course,” Ta'tan'ia answered easily. If it's convenient, she added silently.

 

“Thank you,” Wyric replied, obviously relieved. “Now all we need to do is actually find Tahiri, and rescue her.”

 

Ta'tan'ia nodded her head in agreement. “Well, they're not keeping her in the clubhouse,” she said firmly. “I didn't sense that anyone had been held against their will there lately. That means they have her somewhere else.”

 

“Holding a Jedi prisoner is extremely difficult,” Wyric responded after a moment. “You don't think they could have killed her, do you?” he asked. “And Master Solo or anyone else just hasn't sensed it?”

 

Now Ta'tan'ia paused a few seconds. “Masters Solo, Skywalker, and Organa Solo are very close to Tahiri. I'm confident one of them would know if she were one with the Force.” She paused again, then added, “If they have, then we will find out who's responsible, and bring them to justice,” she answered resolutely.

 

“Okay,” he agreed with a nod, turning to the computer. “We need to find out what other properties they have nearby then. If she's not in the clubhouse, then she's probably being held close by.”

 

“Why don't I just go to the party,” Ta'tan'ia suggested. “If they're keeping her prisoner, I'm sure they'll have her there, to show her off. Or at least talk about her.”

 

“I guess so.” Wyric paused a moment before continuing. “How are you planning on getting into this outlaw swoop-biker party though?”

 

Ta'tan'ia gave him a smirk. “Look at me,” she said, arching her back and waving her hands down her body. She gestured with her lekku as well. “I don't think I'll have a problem getting into a swoop-biker party,” she explained with a wry smile. She didn't mention the fact that the Zoloz in the clubhouse had said they had pretty much put out an open invitation for girls to show up.

 

“Good point,” Wyric responded with a nod. “I can get some sleep while you're partying with a bunch of villainous swoop-bikers.”

 

Ta'tan'ia's mouth went open in shock. “You'll be waiting outside to back me up if I need you,” she told him. In spite of what she'd just said a minute ago, she didn't want to be in the clubhouse with a few dozen outlaw bikers without someone nearby in case she needed some help.

 

“Of course,” Wyric agreed amicably. “I'll be taking a nap in our speeder.”

 

Ta'tan'ia opened her mouth to shout at him again. A split-second later she realized he wasn't serious. “You probably would,” she accused him.

 

Wyric simply shrugged in response.

 

“I've got to go get some clothes to wear,” Ta'tan'ia told him. “I'm not sure I'll fit in wearing my armored bodysuit.”

 

“How about just those high-heeled boots you wear all the time?” Wyric suggested dryly.

 

Ta'tan'ia scowled at him a moment, then realized he was mostly joking. “I want to fit in, not get gang-banged a meter inside the door.” She paused a couple of seconds, then added, “Maybe I'll wear my plastex heels though, the boots make me look a little too tough-girl-sexy instead of bimbo-sexy.”

 

“You'd look great in either of them,” he told her.

 

He seemed like he was about to say something else, but decided not to.

 

After some discussion, the two Jedi decided that Wyric would drop Ta'tan'ia off near a clothing store, then he would pull surveillance on the clubhouse. When she finished her shopping, she'd join him until the things got going. Then she would go in while everyone was partying.

 

Before they left, Ta'tan'ia changed into a nondescript gray jumpsuit to go shopping in. She didn't want anyone noticing someone wearing an armored bodysuit buying clothes suited to a swoop-bike slut. She grabbed a pair of black nerfhide armlets that would cover up her chrono and comlink as well. A matching half hood would cover her beskar collar. The hood had holes for her lekku, and left her face open. She went ahead and put her clear plastex sandals with fifteen-centimeter heels on. They really didn't go with the jumpsuit, but she didn't plan on wearing it for long.

 

Since Tahiri was probably wearing her durasteel chrono and comlink, Ta'tan'ia didn't want anyone seeing hers and making a connection. She wasn't sure about trying to hide her collar yet. She'd have to let the Force guide her when it was time. Purple-skinned Twi'leks were relatively rare in the galaxy though. Purple-skinned Twi'leks wearing a metal collar were even rarer. She definitely didn't want anyone identifying her by it.

 

While she was wasn't as famous as Master Skywalker or Master Organa Solo or even Master Solo, Ta'tan'ia was somewhat known from her time as Chief Daala's Jedi liaison as well. She didn't think outlaw swoop-bikers paid much attention to Galactic Alliance politics though.

 

As they got into Wyric's speeder, Ta'tan'ia began looking for nearby clothing stores on the local HoloNet with her wrist comlink. She needed one that was likely to sell clothes suited for a girl to wear to an outlaw swoop-biker party.

 

“I was thinking,” Ta'tan'ia began as she searched the local HoloNet for suitable clothing stores. “Maybe you should see if you can find where they're stashing that shipment of blasters. We may be able to do something about them too.”

 

Wyric glanced at her thoughtfully. “I think I should stay close to the clubhouse, to back you up. We can always pass the intel about the blasters along to the local police.”

 

Ta'tan'ia let out an exasperated sigh. “Most of the local police are corrupt or incompetent. You should know that,” she told him, obviously annoyed. “It was in the planetary briefing packet I sent you when you decided to come to this rock. What have you been doing on your datapad all this time?”

 

“What any guy does when he's alone for a few minutes,” Wyric answered with a shrug. “Looking at holoporn.”

 

Ta'tan'ia stared at him incredulously a moment. “Kriffin' pervert,” she responded, hitting him in his upper arm, hard.

 

“Ow!” he replied, reflexively grabbing his bicep and kneading it. “That hurt.”

 

“Good,” she said, turning her attention back to her wrist comm.

 

“I was just joking anyway. I read the briefing packet. I know about the police,” Wyric explained.

 

“That's not why I hit you,” Ta'tan'ia told him, mildly annoyed, and not looking up from her wrist comm.

 

“Oh.”

 

Wyric didn't mention the holoporn. There was no point in denying it anyway. He was a guy after all .

 

By the time they got close to the clubhouse, Ta'tan'ia had found a used clothing store that might have what she was looking for, and another shop close by in case it didn't. She had Wyric drop her off at the shop that sold used clothes first. While the other store was more likely to sell clothes that would fit in at an outlaw swoop-biker party, she didn't want to spend any more of the Jedi Order's credits than she had to.

 

Before she went in, she pulled on her black armlets. They went from just below her elbows to midway up the palms of her hands, with thumb openings to keep them in place. Wide nerfhide straps were at the top and around her wrists, with another pair in the middle. The wrist straps were the perfect cover for her beskar chrono and comlink. She left the hood that would hide her collar in the speeder though.

 

The middle-aged woman working inside was happy to help her. Of course Ta'tan'ia didn't straight-out tell her she wanted slutty clothes to go to a swoop-biker party. She quickly spotted a couple of racks that looked like that might have what she was looking for. It didn't take her long to find a pair of faded black short-shorts, and a strappy red top that looked like it would fit her.

 

The shop had a small changing room in the back down a short hallway. The short-shorts were snug, almost to the point of being skin-tight. The top was tight as well, and had crisscrossing straps on top that went around her shoulders and upper arms, one of which was half-torn. With her fifteen-centimeter high clear plastex heels and black armlets, she thought she looked like a biker slut. A sexy biker slut. Then again, it was hard for her not to look sexy.

 

As she was checking herself out in the mirror, she heard someone enter the shop out front. She cracked the changing room door open, and peeked out.

 

To her shock she saw two Zoloz. One was standing just inside the doorway, like a lookout, and the other was talking to the woman running the shop. She recognized that one as Dirc.

 

“We've been real patient with you, Mrs. Rellins. This is the last friendly visit we're gonna make,” Dirc said menacingly.

 

“Look, I don't have that kind of credits!” the woman exclaimed. “I barely have any customers, and I already got to pay the cops!”

 

“And I fully support our local law enforcement,” Dirc replied. “The dirty ones, anyway. None of that shavit is my problem though. If the Zoloz say you're gonna pay, then you're gonna pay.” He leaned in close, and added in a whisper Ta'tan'ia could barely hear. “Or you'll pay.”

 

The woman was visibly distraught now. “Look, I only got fifty-five credits!” she shouted, turning and opening the register drawer. “I swear!” With that she grabbed the credits, and thrust them at him.

 

“Fifty-five!” Dirc screamed, grabbing her by the shirt with one hand, and snatching the credits away with the other. “That's less than half of last week's dues. What the frakk about this week!”

 

Ta'tan'ia had to end this. She was about to step out of the changing room, when she remembered her comlink. She quickly unbuckled the strap on her right armlet, exposing the beskar cuff. Her comlink could be set to make any of sort of sound or play a tune when she got a message, as well as vibrate and illuminate itself. Or it could do any combination of those things. She quickly turned off the sound and illumination, and set it to the lowest vibration setting only for a message marked priority. Then she pulled her armlet back into place, buckled the strap, stepped out of the changing room, and down the hallway.

 

“I'll take 'em. . .” she said cheerfully, trailing off as she pretended to realize something was wrong.

 

Dirc stared at her for a second, then turned back to the shopkeeper.

 

“Why the kriff didn't you tell me somebody was in here!?”

 

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” the woman replied, sobbing.

 

Suddenly Dirc let go of her, and turned back to Ta'tan'ia, which was exactly what she had hoped for.

 

“Hey, you guys are with the Zoloz,” she said with a smile.

 

Dirc was wearing a black nerfhide Zoloz vest with quite a few patches on it, along with a faded black shirt, and faded bluish-gray pants with a couple of small holes. Heavy black boots were on his feet. The only weapon visible on him was a vibroblade on his right thigh. He had several tattoos visible on his arms. The Zoloz by the door was similarly dressed, except his pants and vest looked newer.

 

“Hell yeah, baby,” Dirc responded with his own smile, openly checking her out. Then he glanced back at the shopkeeper. “We did some work for Mrs. Rellins here and we were just discussing payment,” he explained glibly. Then he waved his hand dismissively, as he added, “But anyways, we're having a little party at the clubhouse tonight, you wanna come join in?”

 

Ta'tan'ia couldn't believe it was this easy. She figured she'd at least have to flirt with him a while or something. She had even come up with a story about how her boyfriend had dumped her, and she was looking to have some fun or something. Instead she had just had to let him see her, and she was invited.

 

“Sure, what time you want me to stop by?” she asked, still smiling at him.

 

The smile was almost real now, considering how easy he was making this for her.

 

“I'll give you a ride now,” he responded with a shrug. “We'll have a little pre-party.”

 

Ta'tan'ia was sensing everything she could with the Force. He didn't seem to be deceiving her. This was almost too good to be true. Now not only was he offering her a ride to the party, he was going to escort her in, too.

 

“Sounds like fun,” Ta'tan'ia replied, stepping towards him.

 

“By the way, nice collar,” Dirc told her, reaching out, slipping a finger underneath it and giving it a tug. “Real sexy.”

 

Ta'tan'ia went into shock for a split-second. She had completely forgotten about her collar. “Thanks,” she answered quickly. “It was a gift,” she explained, smiling at him again.

 

Dirc gave her another smirk, almost leering at her. Then he glanced back at the shop clerk. “I'll be back real soon,” he assured her.

 

Ta'tan'ia pulled twenty credits from her pocket, and handed them to the still distraught Mrs. Rellins for the top and shorts. Then she turned her attention back to Dirc.

 

“So we going to party, or what?” she asked him, deliberately walking between him and the shopkeeper, towards the front door. She smiled up at the Zoloz, and flicked her tchun—her left lek—towards him as she did.

 

While she strutted towards the door, she sensed him take the credits from the lady before turning to follow her. That meant he wasn't completely weak-minded. She also sensed his eyes on her ass as she walked. She gave the Zoloz at the door, who she didn't recognize, a smile as she approached him.

 

“So, sexy,” Dirc said, catching up with her and wrapping his arm around her possessively. “I'm Dirc. What's your name, or can I just call you sexy?”

 

Ta'tan'ia and Wyric had some false ID for a cover as cargo runners who were on New Coronet a few days, and some proclaiming them as bounty hunters. Both of hers used the same first name though.

 

“Tawnia,” Ta'tan'ia answered with a smile, draping her tchun over his arm. “But sexy sounds just fine to me.”

 

Outside, the lookout was climbing onto one of the Zoloz' swoop-bikes. Since he didn't have the Zoloz' Rancor logo on the back of his nerfhide vest, Ta'tan'ia assumed he was a prospect. She waited for Dirc to straddle the other swoop-bike, then climbed on behind him. She wasn't surprised when not only did he not offer her a helmet, he didn't have one for himself.

 

She hoped he was a good pilot. At least he didn't seem drunk or high or anything. She didn't have time for a trip to the emergency medcenter right now.

 

Ta'tan'ia's next problem was letting Wyric know she wouldn't be rendezvousing with him. She'd probably have to slip into a 'fresher or something once she got inside the clubhouse.

 

Dirc took off, with the prospect right behind him. Dirc seemed to be doing his best to impress her with his piloting ability—or at least scare the shavit out of her. Then again, he might just be trying to get both of them killed. Ta'tan'ia responded by wrapping her arms tighter around his waist. He of course, interpreted this to mean that she was attracted to him.

 

They arrived at the clubhouse a couple of minutes later. A single Zoloz was keeping an eye on about twenty or so swoop-bikes parked out front. Dirc and the lookout backed theirs in next to the door, at the beginning of the line.

 

Ta'tan'ia had thought the other Zoloz weren't supposed to arrive for a while yet, but she guessed she had been mistaken. She could already hear loud music coming from the clubhouse, and sense at least a few dozen people inside.

 

Ta'tan'ia could also sense Wyric's surprise from his surveillance position down the street. She stepped out a bit to give him a better view, then stretched as she smiled towards him. Then she wrapped her arms around Dirc's waist, glanced towards Wyric again—as if she were just looking down the street—gave him a wink, and walked into the clubhouse with the swoopie. The lookout stayed outside, with the other prospect.

 

Just as Ta'tan'ia had guessed, there were at least twenty swoop-bikers inside, with nearly as many women. Several of the Zoloz waved a greeting to Dirc, and even more seemed to be taking a long look at her. Ta'tan'ia arched her back a bit as she scanned the crowd, mainly the women. A lot of them had at least one or two visible tats, and most of them were dressed to show plenty of skin. Still, Ta'tan'ia knew she was definitely the hottest woman in the room. By the reactions of the various swoop-bikers, they thought so too.

 

The party was definitely already started. A woman was dancing on the stripper pole to some fast-paced music, with a handful of swoop-bikers watching. The smell of alcohol and cigarra smoke was strong. Ta'tan'ia could also detect some sort of spice.

 

“Hey everybody, this is Tawnia,” Dirc announced, grabbing her hand and lifting it over her head so everyone would know who he was talking about. “Tawnia, this is everybody,” he added, waving his hand to encompass the room.

 

Quite a few of the Zoloz and swoop-bike-sluts waved or shouted some sort of greeting towards her, and Ta'tan'ia waved back. She had almost expected Dirc to take her straight to one of the bedrooms for sex, or try and get her on the stripper pole, but instead he found them a couple of spots at the bar.

 

A human woman perhaps forty brought them drinks almost as soon as they sat down. She looked like she had been pretty attractive once, but had lived a hard life. She had several tats showing, including one of the Zoloz' rancor logo on her wrist. Ta'tan'ia suspected she had done a lot of spice over the years.

 

While they drank, Dirc began asking her casual questions about where she was from, how long she had been in New Coronet, and stuff like that. On the surface he just seemed to be trying to get to know her, but Ta'tan'ia sensed he didn't trust her completely, and was trying to feel her out.

 

Ta'tan'ia did her best to deflect the questions without making him even more suspicious. The Force certainly helped in that matter. She was mainly looking around for Tahiri. Not only did she not see her, she still didn't sense her through the Force. She also didn't want to ask about her. From what she was overhearing from some of the others, they were expecting some more Zoloz soon. Maybe she was with them.

 

The possibility of more Zoloz worried Ta'tan'ia. It was going to be hard enough to rescue Tahiri with the nearly two dozen swoop-bikers that were already at the clubhouse. If a lot more arrived, things could get really complicated.

 

“So, what's up with the collar?” Dirc asked her, running his hand along the back of the seamless band of beskar around her neck.

 

“It was a gift,” she answered truthfully, if a bit misleadingly.

 

She didn't mention that it was from a woman. She didn't want to encourage him any more than she had to to keep him interested. At first Ta'tan'ia hadn't thought the beskar collar—or wrist chrono, comlink, or chastity belt—had been gifts either, but now she believed Chief Daala had really meant them as such, even if the collar and cuffs were permanent. Ta'tan'ia certainly considered them gifts. Chief Daala had truly understood how much she'd learn to appreciate them. Especially the permanence. Too bad she'd hated the Jedi so much, and had had Kani and Madhi murdered. Still, sometimes Ta'tan'ia really missed serving her.

 

“You into that bondage stuff or something?” Dirc asked. He paused a moment, then added with a grin, “Not that I have a problem with that.”

 

“Well. . . yeah,” Ta'tan'ia replied truthfully.

 

“Sexy,” he responded, still smiling. “We got a girl that's into all that stuff too. She likes getting whipped, she has some wrist cuffs she wears all the time, and we put a durasteel collar on her like yours.” He took a swallow of his beer, then continued. “Her collar and cuffs never come off though. Not even when she sleeps or takes a sanisteam.”

 

Now Ta'tan'ia was positive he was talking about Tahiri. She was a notorious pain slut.

 

Ta'tan'ia certainly didn't mention that she couldn't take off her collar or cuffs either. “Cool,” Ta'tan'ia answered. “She around here somewhere, or what?”

 

“She went for a ride with some brothers, to meet some other brothers that are coming for a visit,” he said, glancing at a chrono on the wall. “They should be back in an hour or so.”

 

“Great,” she replied, taking a swallow of her beer. “I can't wait to meet her.

 

Dirc just smiled again. Then he put his hand on her leg just above her knee, and slid it up her thigh, all the way to the hem of her skimpy shorts, just a few centimeters or so from her pussy.

 

A couple of minutes later, Dirc offered to show her around the clubhouse. Now it was obvious he was looking to have sex with her. Just as she suspected, he quickly led her into an empty bedroom. It was the same one where she had found the slutty clothes and bondage toys in the closet earlier. Ta'tan'ia wondered if he had chosen this one purposely, or if the restraints were just a coincidence. She hoped he wasn't planning on using those nipple clamps on her she had seen. The multi-tailed flogger looked fun though.

 

Ta'tan'ia pretended to resist a bit—which seemed to arouse him even more—then relented. In just minutes she was naked except for her fifteen-centimeter plastex heels, armlets, and collar. Dirc grinned when he saw that she was leaving her heels on. She hadn't even considered taking them off. She practically lived in towering high heels, and always wore them during sex. Or when she masturbated.

 

Dirc was naked from the waist down as well, except for his socks. Above his waist he was still wearing a faded black shirt, and his black nerfhide Zoloz vest.

 

The Zoloz was pretty aggressive, not that Ta'tan'ia had expected any different from an outlaw swoop-biker. As fast as they stripped off their clothes, he literally picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. She landed on her back, and he quickly climbed on top of her.

 

Ta'tan'ia hooked her legs around his thighs as he began fucking her. She got the feeling that he was mainly out for his own pleasure, which wasn't really unusual for a guy. He did seem to want to please her, but the feeling was faint compared to his own desires.

 

When she had had sex with Chief Daala, Ta'tan'ia pretty much always got the impression she was mostly doing it as a means of control. That certainly fitted in with the bondage, dominance and submission, and especially the chastity belt she made her wear. While Ta'tan'ia pretended to be really into sex with some outlaw swoop-biker she had just met, she sort of missed the former Chief of State's subtlety devious—and often blatantly devious—ways of dominating her.

 

Ta'tan'ia matched his thrusts, staying in rhythm with him. She moaned out, slid her hands underneath his vest, dug her nails into his back, and left scratches several centimeters long. It was her way of hurting him a little for what he had done to the shopkeeper. Maybe later she'd make him pay some more.

 

To Ta'tan'ia's delight, he grunted, and winced noticeably in pain. Then he pushed her arms over her head, and held her wrists down as he continued fucking her. Fortunately he was holding her forearms just below her beskar chrono and comlink, so he didn't feel them underneath her nerfhide armlets.

 

After several minutes or so of enthusiastic sex, he paused long enough to flip her over, and start fucking her from behind. She was careful to keep her sensitive lekku out of his reach so he wouldn't be tempted to pull on one or something. Luckily the Zoloz was content to hold her waist as he thrust in and out of her.

 

A while later—Ta'tan'ia wasn't really paying attention to the time—she sensed that Dirc was about to cum. Just before he did, Ta'tan'ia obligingly faked her own orgasm, letting him think he had given her one. That sent him over the edge. He let out a loud grunt, and came into her. He thrust in and out of her pussy a few more times, then flopped down next to her on his back. She responded by laying half on top of him, and draping her arm over his chest.

 

“Gotta hit the 'fresher,” Dirc said after a few moments, pushing her arm off himself.

 

Ta'tan'ia watched him walk into the 'fresher, then rolled onto her back. She was still horny, but she didn't even really think about masturbating. The mission came first—not that she would have seriously masturbated in an outlaw swoop-biker clubhouse anyway.

 

She briefly thought about snooping around some, but decided not to. Since she already had, it wasn't worth the risk. She would just lie here like a good little swoop-biker-girl. Almost as soon as she decided not to search again, Ta'tan'ia happened to glance over, and spotted something interesting on the floor about a meter from the bed, next to Dirc's pants.

 

It was a small remote. Ta'tan'ia glanced at the 'fresher door, then rolled over, stretched out, and picked it up. It looked similar to the ones that controlled the maglocks on restraints, like the ones around her neck and wrists. It wasn't nearly as elaborate as the one Chief Daala had had, or some of the other ones Ta'tan'ia had seen though.

 

This one just had a few buttons, and a slide dial on one side. There were also several small lights. One was lit green, in the outline of a circle, while the blue one was a solid circle, and was blinking steadily. If this remote was like some of the others Ta'tan'ia had seen, the green light meant that a collar or some other restraint with a maglock was secure. She wasn't sure about the blinking blue light though, or the other two lights that weren't lit up.

 

Ta'tan'ia heard a sound from the 'fresher, and quickly tossed the remote back onto the floor by his pants.

 

A moment later, Dirc emerged from the 'fresher. Ta'tan'ia flashed him a lazy smile, then calmly got up, and went into the 'fresher herself. When she came out, Dirc was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing his pants and boots. The remote was gone, probably in his pocket.

 

“Get dressed, sexy,” he told her, nodding towards her shorts and top lying on the floor. “Got a party to get back to.”

 

“Sure,” Ta'tan'ia agreed with a friendly smile.

 

While she was putting her tiny thong back on, Ta'tan'ia glanced over, and saw him watching her admiringly. She flashed him another flirty grin and wiggled her ass a bit as she pulled her short-shorts up her toned legs. Finally she slid her strappy red top on.

 

Once she was dressed, Dirc led her back out into the main room of the clubhouse. Some more Zoloz had arrived, perhaps half-a-dozen or so, she guessed. She still didn't see Tahiri, or sense her.

 

“Go get me a beer,” Dirc told her, punctuating the command with a hard slap on her ass.

 

Ta'tan'ia froze in shock a split-second. She couldn't believe he had slapped her ass like that, in front of everyone. She quickly smiled back at him, and headed for the bar though. She'd just have to kick his ass later. Or get Wyric to.

 

Ta'tan'ia strutted over to the bar, and got him a beer. She got one for herself as well. Dirc was sitting on a poufcouch near the holoscreen. Another Zoloz was sitting on the other end, with a Human woman in her mid-twenties sitting between them. Dirc had Ta'an'ia squeeze in between him and the girl.

 

The Zoloz seemed to be mostly interested in having sex with one or more of the women around. There was a steady parade of couples going to the bedrooms or anywhere that offered a hint of privacy. When they weren't making out or something, the Zoloz were sending the women to get them more drinks or food.

 

The swoopies seemed to have an agreement not to hit on a woman that another Zoloz was going after though. They had no problem looking—a lot—but none of them really hit on her—at least too much—once they saw that she was with Dirc. Ta'tan'ia was content to listen to them talk. They told some stories that involved several things that were illegal, but she wasn't really concerned with them. She was here for Tahiri, not to arrest a bunch of swoopies on weapons and spice charges and stuff.

 

Dirc and about half-a-dozen or so Zoloz were talking and watching a hoverball match. Before long Dirc sent Ta'tan'ia to get him another beer. Several of the nearby Zoloz asked for one as well. After she brought a round for all of them, she said she had to use the 'fresher. Dirc absently nodded his head, and she headed for the bedroom they had had sex in, and the adjoining 'fresher.

 

Once she was in the 'fresher, Ta'tan'ia unbuckled her armlet, and pulled it back to expose her comlink. She touched the screen to activate it, then tapped in the security code. Before she could comm Wyric, though, she sensed someone approaching the 'fresher door. A moment later the person tried to open it.

 

“Occupied,” Ta'tan'ia called out through the locked door.

 

“Hurry the frakk up!” one of the Zoloz replied, obviously drunk. “I got to take a leak!”

 

“Just a minute,” she replied, frowning in frustration.

 

She definitely couldn't risk talking on her comlink with him so close, even with the door between them. Instead, while she used the 'fresher, she quickly sent Wyric a text telling him she was fine, and that she would contact him later. When she finished she washed her hands, then she put her comlink back to sleep, and pulled her armlet back into place.

 

When she came out a few seconds later, the Zoloz was leaning against the wall next to the door.

 

“I'll just be a second baby,” he told her, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath. “Get naked and wait for me, okay?” he added, reaching out and patting her hip as he stepped into the 'fresher.

 

Ta'tan'ia shook her head, and went back out into the main room. She quickly found Dirc, and sat down next to him. At least she wouldn't have to worry about drunken Zoloz hitting on her with him close by. After a couple of seconds, she felt his hand on her thigh, just a few centimeters from the hem of her shorts. Well, at least she wouldn't have to worry about other Zoloz hitting on her with him close by.

 

For the next hour and a half or so, Ta'tan'ia hung out with Dirc, and fetched drinks when he or one of the other nearby Zoloz asked. She even took a little bit of pleezer to keep her cover, although she used the Force to negate its effects. Nearly two hours after she had arrived at the clubhouse, someone announced that 'they' were here. Practically everyone headed towards the front door. Ta'tan'ia heard the sound of swoop-bikes approaching—a lot of them.

 

Once she got outside, Ta'tan'ia saw at least forty Zoloz arriving. They were parking on both sides of the street, and well past either side of the front of the clubhouse. She paused a moment, glanced around at all the swoop-bikers, and muttered a curse. This was too many. There were probably eighty or ninety Zoloz now. It would be almost impossible for them to rescue Tahiri, unless they all just let them walk out with her. She sensed Wyric's dismay from his surveillance position as well.

 

A moment later Ta'tan'ia noticed a heavily-tattooed blonde woman climbing off a swoop-bike. Besides the tats—which mostly looked to be orangish flames—she was wearing a red tube top and tiny mini skirt. A black collar was around her neck, with matching cuffs around her wrists. Ta'tan'ia also saw a pair of black nerfhide ankle boots with towering stiletto heels on her feet, and bits of silver jewelry on her ears, face, and belly button. She had a pair of black glareshades over her eyes as well.

 

The blonde was definitely the sluttiest-looking woman Ta'tan'ia had seen at the party. A heartbeat later, she reached out with the Force, and was shocked to realize that it was Tahiri.

 

Since she had never met Tahiri, Ta'tan'ia couldn't actually identify the blonde through the Force. She did sense that she was a Force sensitive though. She looked a lot like Tahiri, too—it was hard to say for sure though, with all the tattoos and piercings and glareshades and everything else—but Ta'tan'ia felt sure that was who she was looking at.

 

As Ta'tan'ia watched, the Zoloz Tahiri had been riding with grabbed her wrist, and pulled her towards the clubhouse. Tahiri hurried to stay up to him on her towering high heels.

 

The Zoloz was about one-hundred-eighty-five-centimeters or so tall, and probably a hundred kilograms. He was muscular, and had longish dark hair. Several large tattoos were visible on his bare arms, and one on the side of his neck. Ta'tan'ia had to admit he was attractive, if one were into tattooed outlaw swoop-bikers.

 

Ta'tan'ia frowned in confusion. In spite of the collar, cuffs, humiliating tats, and the Zoloz holding her by her wrist, Tahiri didn't seem to be being held against her will at all. In fact, she sensed that she was pretty happy right now, if a little . . . off. After a few seconds, Ta'tan'ia thought she might be a little high. That still didn't change the fact that she didn't seem to be being coerced into being with the Zoloz.

 

The party seemed to be spreading from the clubhouse out into the street. Ta'tan'ia wanted to head straight for Tahiri to find out what was going on, but her swoopie-boy kept her close by his side, so she wouldn't exactly be able to talk to her anyway. As Ta'tan'ia was considering her next move, she felt a hand on her lower back.

 

“Let's go, sexy,” Dirc said, moving his hand across her body to her right ass-cheek. “I've got some people that I want to see you.”

 

“Sure,” she answered with a friendly smile.

 

Dirc kept a firm hand on her ass with one hand, occasionally gripping her arm with the other, steering her through the crowd. He only let go of her arm long enough to greet his Zoloz buddies that he ran into. It wasn't exactly obvious, but he was definitely exerting his control over her. It was obvious that he was showing her off though. Ta'tan'ia mostly used the opportunity to remember names and faces of the Zoloz. One never knew what might be important later.

 

After a minute, Ta'tan'ia realized, to her surprise, that they were basically heading for Tahiri and her swoopie-boy. As she got closer, Ta'tan'ia got a better look at her tats and piercings.

 

Tahiri had a wide pattern of flames down her sides, from underneath her tube top down to her ankles. The Zoloz rancor emblem was on her shoulders. Ta'tan'ia couldn't see her right side as good, but her left shoulder had the word PROPERTY curved above the emblem, and OF ZOLOZ below it. She couldn't completely make out what was on her collar, but she could read the words SLUT on the left front, and what was probably PROPERTY on the left back, with the Zoloz Rancor logo between them. Ta'tan'ia guessed it was ZOLOZ SLUT across the front, and PROPERTY OF ZOLOZ on the back.

 

Tahiri had large hoops in both ears, as well as bars through the tops of her ears. Small pieces of metal were visible in one eyebrow, and her nose. There was also a stud in her belly button. Another flaming tattoo was on her lower back, but Ta'tan'ia couldn't really see it. Bits of yet another flaming pattern were visible on her lower belly, just above her tiny miniskirt. Ta'tan'ia assumed it covered her mons, just above her pussy. She could also see the edges of a flaming pattern around her breasts. That was quite a bit of ink, especially considering Tahiri hadn't had any—at least known—as recently as a few months ago.

 

Ta'tan'ia's attention went back to the PROPERTY OF ZOLOZ tattoo on her shoulder and the matching phrase on her collar. . . and wrist cuffs, now that she looked at them as well. That definitely wasn't a tattoo someone got for fun. Either Tahiri had been coerced, or she had at least let them. Judging by the feeling she was getting from her through the Force, Ta'tan'ia guessed it was the latter.

 

A few meters or so away, Tahiri seemed to realize that they were approaching them. She nudged swoopie-boy, and he glanced towards them. Ta'tan'ia couldn't really follow Tahiri's eyes though, because of her glareshades.

 

The two Zoloz looked at each other a heartbeat. Even with just the brief glance, Ta'tan'ia could sense there was a little animosity between them. Then Swoopie-boy began eying Ta'tan'ia appraisingly. While it wasn't really any worse than how some of the other Zoloz had looked at her, she got the impression that he was more than willing to do more than just look.

 

“I see you found a friend,” swoopie-boy commented to Dirc, then glanced back to Ta'tan'ia, flashing her a smile. “Nice collar,” he added, gesturing towards her beskar collar around her throat.

 

“Thanks,” Ta'tan'ia replied with an appreciative smile. While she was mostly being friendly as part of her cover, she pretty much always liked it when someone complimented her collar.

 

Swoopie-boy's vest had quite a few patches on it, including one that said V. PRESIDENT, and another that proclaimed him to be Cyllir, which matched up with the information Ta'tan'ia had reviewed on the club. One of Dirc's patches proclaimed him to be the Sgt. at Arms. That meant that Tahiri's boyfriend outranked hers.

 

Now that she was closer, Ta'tan'ia was also able to get a better look at Tahiri. Her make-up was shimmery, and definitely somewhere in the hardcore-partygirl-swoop-bike-slut-whore range. She had some sort of glitter cream on her shoulders and stomach as well. Her fingernails were painted a bright red, and looked a couple of centimeters or so long. Ta'tan'ia wondered if she made herself up like this every day, and how long it took her.

 

The outlines of a pair thick nipple rings were very noticeable underneath her thin tube top. That meant Tahiri wasn't wearing a bra, but then again, neither was she. All of her piercings were thick silver durasteel. Her hair was platinum-blonde, obviously dyed, and hung just below her ears. Ta'tan'ia also wondered if it was cut short like that to show off her collar better. If so, she had to admit it was good idea.

 

Ta'tan'ia felt mostly curiosity from Tahiri, possibly towards her, along with some arousal. Both were a little fuzzy because of whatever drugs she was on though. Ta'tan'ia was more than a little confused by her reactions. Tahiri should sense that she was a Jedi, even if she didn't know her personally.

 

“Guess who's here?” Cyllir asked with a sly smile. “Krayt,” he added, without waiting for a response.

 

“I thought he was dead?” Dirc answered, obviously confused.

 

“Na, he just got arrested,” Cyllir replied with a smile.

 

Dirc frowned in thought a few seconds.

 

“After Torri here shot him,” Cyllir commented. “But he lived, and beat the charges, so he came to visit us,” he explained. “Especially Torri,” he added with a smirk.

 

Ta'tan'ia glanced around, wondering exactly who Torri was. The way Cyllir spoke, she was close by. None of the women she saw looked like they would shoot someone, even accidentally. Maybe Torri was a guy?

 

Dirc's surprise was hard to miss though. “What!?” he shouted, his hand reaching for his knife. “She knows? Who the frakk ran their mouth?” he demanded, calming down a bit.

 

“Chill out, bro,” Cyllir told him, waving his hands placating. “Krayt let it slip before we warned him. I explained everything to Torri though, and she's cool with it, so it's fine.”

 

Dirc glanced between Cyllir and Tahiri a couple of times. “She knows everything?” he asked warily.

 

“Yeah, she knows,” Cyllir answered. “That she was a bounty hunter; the glitteryll; all of it. And like I said, she's cool with it.” He paused, squeezed her against himself, and added, “She's all Zoloz slut.”

 

Torri was Tahiri!? Ta'tan'ia was in shock. Glitteryll? That explained a lot. One of the effects of glitteryll was suppressing the user's memories. The Zoloz must have somehow given Tahiri a dose of it—a big dose—judging by what she'd seen and felt from the former Jedi. They hadn't just convinced her she was a swoop-biker slut, they had turned her into one.

 

Tahiri probably had no idea who she really was. As far as she knew, she had just found out she had been a bounty hunter. Ta'tan'ia didn't sense any sort of resentment from her. Even knowing what they had done to her, she really seemed to be with the Zoloz willingly. She felt perfectly content with the situation.

 

Now Ta'tan'ia had to decide whether to try to tell Tahiri the truth first, or somehow just convince her to leave with her. Or possibly putting her into a Force nap or something and carrying her out. Either way, she still had the problem of getting her past nearly a hundred Zoloz.

 

“I'm Cyllir, by the way,” the Zoloz Vice-President said with a friendly smile. “And in case you missed it, this sexy thing here is Torri,” he added, pulling the pierced and tattooed blonde tight against himself.

 

“Tawnia,” Ta'tan'ia replied with her own smile. “Great party.”

 

“Thanks,” he answered. “We usually don't have so many people, but we've got some brothers visiting for a few days.”

 

“Yeah, I heard,” she responded with a nod, glancing around at some of the nearby Zoloz.

 

“I hope Dirc's showing you a good time,” Cyllir told her.

 

Ta'tan'ia glanced over to Dirc, winked, then glanced back at Cyllir. “Awesome,” she replied with a satisfied smirk.

 

“Good.” He paused a heartbeat, then said, “So what's up with the collar, you a sub?”

 

“Yeah,” she answered, almost automatically. “Some,” she added with a dismissive shrug a heartbeat later, attempting to moderate her response.

 

Dirc had asked her practically the same question a little while ago. He seemed to just be interested in having some kinky fun with a hot Twi'lek though. With Cyllir on the other lek, it was obvious he was an experienced dom. It was also obvious he already knew the answer. Combined with his bad-boy looks, it was easy to see why Tahiri was hanging onto his arm with that adoring look in her eyes.

 

She wasn't about to admit that she liked to be cuffed basically as much as she could, and forced to obey a strict Master or Mistress. She didn't want to wind up shackled to a bed or something with a bunch of outlaw swoopies running a maglev on her if she could help it.

 

She wasn't quite sure how convincing she was though. Casual submissives rarely wore a six-centimeter-wide metal collar in public.

 

“So you got a Master, Tawnia?” Cyllir asked her, staring at her. “Or are you looking for one?”

 

That was certainly to the point.

 

“Right now I'm just looking to have some fun,” Ta'tan'ia answered with a friendly smile.

 

Dirc responded to that by moving his hand down, and squeezing her ass. Ta'tan'ia glanced up at him, grinned then looked back at the Zoloz Vice President.

 

Cyllir eyed her silently a couple of heartbeats. “You and Torri almost have matching collars,” he commented, reaching up and tugging the leash ring on Tahiri's collar. “We just need to get you a leash ring, and ZOLOZ SLUT engraved on yours,” he added, running his thumb along the words on the side of Tahiri's collar.

 

One thing in particular Ta'tan'ia noticed was the way Cyllir casually tugged Tahiri's leash ring, and caressed her collar. It was like she was an object. Or some sort of pet. It was a lot like Chief Daala treated her when she was her Jedi Liaison. Ta'tan'ia had to admit she missed that sort of treatment more than a little.

 

Dirc and several of the nearby swoop-bikers happily voiced their approval at the idea of her getting ZOLOZ SLUT engraved on her collar. Tahiri smiled in agreement as well.

 

“And she needs a tat,” Tahiri chimed in with her own smile, waving her hand towards the tat on her left shoulder.

 

Ta'tan'ia automatically followed her gesture to the PROPERTY OF ZOLOZ and Rancor logo tattoo. That certainly sent a statement, not that pretty much everything else about her didn't send the same statement. She was one-hundred-percent swoop-bike slut.

 

With a closer look, Ta'tan'ia also noticed that she had I SUCK ZOLOZ COCK tattooed on the outside of her left ankle, and the inside of her left wrist. ZOLOZ SLUT was tattooed the same spots on her right wrist and ankle. She spotted a tongue stud in her mouth when she spoke as well.

 

When Ta'tan'ia had first assumed her duties as Chief Daala's Jedi liaison, she had suggested that she get a tattoo saying Property of the Galactic Alliance tattooed on her ass, and the Galactic Alliance emblem tattooed above her pussy. Ta'tan'ia had asked if she could think about it awhile, and luckily Chief Daala let the matter drop.

 

Ta'tan'ia had had Property of Chief of State Natasi Daala engraved on a band on the back of her chastity belt anyway, and the Chief of State's official seal on a thin piece of durasteel maglocked to the front. She wondered if she would have been able to say no to Chief Daala if she had insisted on the tattoo. The fact was, Ta'tan'ia had been pretty turned on by the chastity belt, and the engravings. She had been a little disappointed when the durasteel with the engravings on them were removed.

 

“I don't know about that,” Ta'tan'ia responded to Cyllir, still smiling amicably, and referring to both the engraving on her collar and the tat. “I just met you guys.”

 

Nothing in the galaxy could so much as scratch her beskar collar anyway, but they didn't need to know that.

 

Cyllir simply stared at her silently, as if expecting her to change her mind.

 

“Hey, we'll worry about that later,” Dirc said after a few moments. “Right now, let's party.”

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

If the party was wild before, it was insane now. The clubhouse was packed. Two women were dancing on the stripper pole in the corner, and several more were dancing on tables scattered around the room. Ta'tan'ia really couldn't see what all else was going on though, there were so many people.

 

Dirc, Cyllir, Tahiri, and Ta'tan'ia, along with a couple more Zoloz, pressed through the crowd, eventually finding a couple of seats on a poufcouch and a couple of nearby empty chairs. The Zoloz got the seats, while Tahiri happily sat in Cyllir's lap, and Ta'tan'ia perched herself on Dirc's leg.

 

After a minute or so, Tahiri volunteered to get everyone drinks. Hoping to talk to her alone, Ta'tan'ia tried to go with her, but Dirc pulled her back down, and told her to stay put. Since she was just a sexy Twi'lek at an outlaw swoop-bike party, Ta'tan'ia obeyed with a grin.

 

While pretty much everyone else at the party proceeded to get as drunk—and high—as possible, Ta'tan'ia drank as little as she could get away with. She also surreptitiously spilt several drinks when she could. There was a variety of illegal drugs being passed around. Under pressure from Dirc, and encouragement from Tahiri, she took a little giggledust, while using the Force to minimize its effects.

 

After a while, an older Zoloz, perhaps fifty-five or so, wandered over. He was holding a beer, but didn't seem to be too drunk.

 

“What's up?” the older Zoloz asked, raising his beer a few centimeters in greeting. His eyes lingered on Ta'tan'ia, who was sitting sideways, with her upper body in Dirc's lap, her ass squeezed between him and Sid, and her legs in Sid's and Lukis' laps. “I see you found yourself a sexy little girlfriend.”

 

Maybe it was the giggledust, or alcohol, but Ta'tan'ia didn't mind the way he was looking at her, or how he referred to her as a 'sexy little girlfriend'.

 

“Yeah, name's Tawnia,” Dirc answered, sliding his hand over her breast, down her stomach and patting her shorts just a few centimeters from her pussy. “Tawnia, this is Quinn, our club president.”

 

“Hey,” Ta'tan'ia responded with a friendly smile, holding her hand out towards him. “Great party.”

 

“Thanks,” he replied, taking hold of her hand and wrist. “You know, I got to approve any girl that's going to be around my club, so I'm gonna have to take you in the back for an interview.”

 

It was obvious the 'interview' was just an excuse to have sex with her. Ta'tan'ia didn't really want to, but she didn't want to piss off the club president and endanger the mission either. She glanced back at Dirc, hoping he would intervene.

 

“She's all yours, brother,” Dirc said, pushing her up off his lap. “Have fun with her.”

 

With Quinn holding her arm, Ta'tan'ia was able to swing her legs around in time to catch herself from falling. She wound up half-squatting in front of him. Quinn was already pulling her away as she rose to her feet.

 

“Bring my a beer when you're done, sexy,” Dirc said, reaching out to slap her ass.

 

“Me too,” someone else—Sid she thought—added.

 

Ta'tan'ia tottered on her fifteen-centimeter heels as Quinn pulled her down the hallway, and into one of the bedrooms.

 

“Luckily I'm just giving oral interviews tonight,” Quinn commented as he let go of her wrist, and began unzipping his pants.

 

Ta'tan'ia sighed, then flashed him a smile, and dropped to her knees, her stiletto heels sticking out behind her. She finished getting his cock out, gave it a few strokes to get it semi-hard while she worked some saliva into her mouth. Then she wrapped her lips around the tip, and slid it into her mouth.

 

Since he was a bit older, it took him a little longer to orgasm. Ta'tan'ia was well praticed at sucking dick though. In less than ten mintues she had finished him off. She swallowed, smiled up at him, then licked him clean. After she straightened his pants up, they went back out to the party.

 

“Where's my beer?” Dirc asked when she returned.

 

“Sorry,” Ta'tan'ia replied, turning and heading for the bar.

 

She returned with three beers. One was for Dirc, one for Sid, and the third one was for herself. Another Zoloz took it for himself though, so she just took a few swallows of Dirc's.

 

Ta'tan'ia had hoped she could somehow convince Tahiri to leave with her, maybe to go on an errand or something. That would make it a lot easier for her and Wyric to rescue her. Even with Cyllir, who didn't seem to be inclined to let Tahiri out of his sight any longer than it took her to bring him another beer, there, it would be easier than dealing with like ninety Zoloz. And Dirc was keeping a closer eye on her than Cyllir was Tahiri, so that would be two Zoloz. That was still a lot less than ninety or so.

 

It didn't matter anyway though. In spite of Ta'tan'ia repeatedly dropping hints—backed up with the Force—neither Tahiri, Cyllir, or Dirc was the least bit interested in leaving the party, even together.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Ta'tan'ia stumbled into the 'fresher, the only place she had a chance of having any privacy. She had drunk a lot more than she had planned herself, not to mention taken some drugs that made her feel giddy. The Zoloz had also tried drugging her even more, but thanks to the Force, she had sensed it, and stopped it from affecting her. . . too much. Quite a few of the Zoloz were passed out at various places around the clubhouse, but most were still at it pretty heavy.

 

Once she closed the door, she unbuckled the wrist strap of her armlet, and pulled it back to expose her comlink. She touched the screen to activate it, then tapped the security code to unlock it.

 

She had quite a few messages and notifications. Three were marked urgent. One was from Master Solo, while two were from Wyric. Normally she would immediately answer a call from Master Solo or one of the other Masters, but since Wyiric was her partner, she checked his messages first. Both were for her to comm him as soon as possible. As she commed him, she pulled down her black thong, and began using the 'fresher.

 

“Ta'tan'ia! Are you okay!?” Wyric asked as soon as the link was made.

 

“Yes, yes, I'm fine,” she answered impatiently, and quietly. She didn't know how good the sound-proofing was in here. “I'm with Tahiri.”

 

“Good,” he responded. “Is she okay?”

 

That was a bit complicated. “Yes and no,” Ta'tan'ia replied. “Physically she's fine, but she has no idea who she is,” she explained. “They gave her an overdose of glitteryll that basically wiped her memory, and then convinced her she was just a swoop-bike-slut.”

 

There was a slight pause over the comlink. “Well, can you tell her who she is, so you can get her out of there?”

 

“I don't think that will work,” Ta'tan'ia responded. “She knows she was a bounty hunter, and what they did to her, and doesn't care one bit. She is perfectly happy being a glit-biter swoop-bike-slut. I think she'd be more likely to tell the Zoloz what I was trying to do than leave with me.”

 

Wyric paused a bit longer this time. “Frakk,” he finally said.

 

They don't know who she really is either,” Ta'tan'ia told him. “All they know is that she was a bounty hunter who tried to arrest one of them named Krayt on Trallis II a few months ago, so at least we have that going.”

 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Also, I've found the warehouse with all those blasters they smuggled in. There are probably a few thousand of them. I was thinking we could tell the police, then tip off the Zoloz, and they would all rush to the warehouse.”

 

Ta'tan'ia considered that a couple of seconds. “Wait, how did you find this warehouse?” she asked. “And how do you know they have all those blasters there?”

 

“I found out they had a dummy corporation that owned the warehouse. I did a fly-by and spotted a few too many guards for a regular warehouse, so I took a closer look, and discovered two cargo haulers full of blasters. I seriously doubt they were purchased legitimately,” he explained.

 

Ta'tan'ia had suspected something like that. That didn't make it okay though.

 

“What!?” she shouted in a whisper. “You left me here alone with nearly a hundred swoop-bikers?”

 

“Calm down,” he encouraged her. “You seemed to be having a pretty good time, and I wasn't really doing anything sitting in my speeder,” he told her.

 

Ta'tan'ia ran through a Jedi calming exercise, and decided focus back on the mission. “We will discuss it later,” she whispered emphatically. Then she thought for another couple of seconds. “Most of the police here are corrupt. Really corrupt. The Zoloz might just call them and find out if they're really at the warehouse without even leaving the clubhouse.”

 

Wyric paused again. “Yeah, you're probably right,” he admitted. “I'll come up with something. You just stay safe, and ready to move when the time comes.”

 

“Okay,” she agreed. “I'll go back to the party, drink more beer, have sex with some more Zoloz, and maybe even do another sixty-nine with one of the spice-addict biker-girls here while they watch.”

 

“Sounds good,” Wyric said absently. “I'll see what I can do on this end.”

 

Ta'tan'ia was a bit disappointed he didn't react to her line about having sex with more Zoloz, or another sixty-nine with one of the swoop-bike-sluts, but she didn't let it bother her too much. “Okay,” she replied. “Do whatever you need to do; just figure something out.”

 

“Oh yeah, I spoke with Master Solo. She said not to worry about comming her back. She's on the way here,” he told her.

 

“Okay,” she responded. “Comm me if anything changes.”

 

“I will; and you do the same if you need me to come save you,” he said teasingly.

 

“I'm sure I can handle it,” she replied smugly.

 

Ta'tan'ia closed the link, and reset her comlink to silent, but to vibrate slightly if Wyric tried to contact her. Then she pulled her armlet back into place, and buckled the strap. Next she pulled her thong back up her legs, washed her hands, and went back to the party.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Now that they had a plan—at least the beginning of one—Ta'tan'ia had to start doing her part. That meant doing something about all the kriffing Zoloz, particularly Dirc and Cyllir. Dirc had only let her out of his sight when Quinn had wanted a blow-job from her, or to use the 'fresher. Cyllir was keeping Tahiri on almost as short of a leash as well.

 

Dirc would be easier to deal with. Ta'tan'ia went back to the poufcouch he was lounging on, leaned down, and whispered into his ear.

 

“Let's find someplace a bit more private,” she suggested with a seductive smile, just loud enough for the Zoloz nearby to overhear.

 

“Sure thing, babe,” he replied with a grin.

 

It was obviously he was a bit drunk as he climbed to his feet. Still, he eagerly grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the bedrooms.

 

The door was locked on the first one, and Ta'tan'ia could make out the sounds of sex coming from the other side. The next bedroom was empty. It was also the one they had had sex in earlier, and where she had found the bondage toys before that.

 

Seeing that Dirc was well on his way to being drunk, Ta'tan'ia had to help him with his pants as they made their way to the bed. When she got them around his ankles though, she left them there. Then she stood back up, and pushed him onto the bed, landing on top of him. She quickly straddled him and gave him another kiss. As she did, she put her hand against his temple, and put him into a Force nap.

 

Ta'tan'ia stared down at him for a few seconds, then got up. Since they were supposed to be having sex, she couldn't go back out yet. While she waited, she pulled his boots off, and tossed them aside. She did the same to his pants and underwear. Since he had kept his shirt and vest on the first time they had had sex, she left them on this time. Then she stared down at him again, then rolled him off the bed onto the floor. She wasn't really sure why, but it seemed like a good idea. If anyone asked about him, she would tell them he had passed out during sex. She thought about maybe cuffing him or something, but she didn't want anything to seem out of place if someone else found him before she was finished.

 

A few minutes later she went back out into the party. She wasn't sure if it was all the alcohol the Zoloz had been drinking, or Dirc's absence, but she was definitely getting more attention than she had before. Ta'tan'ia didn't see Cyllir or Tahiri in the main room of the clubhouse. As she casually wandered around looking, she reached out with the Force, and sensed Tahiri . . . below her.

 

Ta'tan'ia headed downstairs and found both Tahiri and Cyllir, along with another double handful of Zoloz hanging out and messing around with a couple of swoop-bikes. Cyllir was sitting on a tall bar stool drinking a beer, while Tahiri was standing next to him, leaning on his thigh, and generally just doing her best to look sexy.

 

When Cyllir noticed Ta'tan'ia at the bottom of the stairs, he gestured for her to come over. Several of the other Zoloz paused to watch her make her way across the garage. As she stepped around the Zoloz and equipment, she realized that it was a little like a bunch of pilots hanging out and working on their snubfighters.

 

“So, Dirc let you off his leash for a while?” Cyllir asked conspiratorially when she got close enough for her to hear him.

 

“Yeah,” Ta'tan'ia replied with a smile, and a shrug of her shoulders. She paused a moment, then added, “Actually he passed out while we were . . . doing it.”

 

Cyllir chuckled in response, while Tahiri just smirked.

 

Ta'tan'ia made a point to lock eyes with Cyllir a moment, and give him a seductive look.

 

“Hey Torch, we'll be back in a bit,” Cyllir said to one of the other Zoloz, obviously getting the hint. Then he put his arm across Ta'tan'ia's back, and set his hand on her opposite hip. “Come with me,” he told her with a smile. At the same time, he took Tahiri by her wrist and tugged her along as well.

 

Ta'tan'ia had always considered herself bisexual, so having a threesome wasn't a problem. When Ta'tan'ia had served Chief Daala, she had trained her and Syal Antilles to pleasure her together. Syal had officially been the Chief of State's personal pilot, but like Ta'tan'ia, Syal also served as her personal assistant, maid, and sex slave.

 

While Chief Daala had kept both of them strictly chastity belted while they served her, restricting their ability to pleasure each other, they did sleep and shower together. After they were freed of their chastity belts, they remained frequent lovers. Actually now that she thought about it, Ta'tan'ia had been with more women than men anyway.

 

Suddenly Ta'tan'ia felt a hand touching hers. Startled, she glanced down to see Tahiri's fingers intertwining with her own. Ta'tan'ia looked back up to see a very friendly smile on her pierced and heavily-made-up face. She flicked her lekku with embarrassment, then flashed her a smile back.

 

A moment later, Tahiri let go of her hand, moved to the opposite side of Cyllir from her, and took her hand again, this time behind his back. Cyllir flashed both of them a grin as his arms naturally went around their hips, and settled on their asses.

 

A couple of minutes later—it was slow going for them to make their way through the partiers—they made it to the hallway. Cyllir led them to the bedroom where Dirc was.

 

“Um, that one's occupied,” Ta'tan'ia told him as he was about to open the door. “Dirc's in there.”

 

Cyllir grinned at her a moment, then opened the door and walked in, nudging Tahiri ahead.

 

“He fell off the bed,” Ta'tan'ia explained as she stepped in just behind him, still holding Tahiri's hand behind his back.

 

Cyllir stepped over to see Dirc lying prone on the floor, looked him over a second, then smiled over at Ta'tan'ia again.

 

“That's my man,” he commented with an amused chuckle, turning back to face them. He paused a moment, eyeing them in obvious anticipation.

 

Ta'tan'ia grinned back at him as she leaned over to Tahiri, and kissed the side of her neck, just above her collar, hiding what she was really thinking. She had to get one of them in a position where she could put them in a Force nap without alarming the other one. Tahiri might sense her using the Force so openly, but would be less likely to react with violence. That meant she should take out Cyllir first, unless things worked out differently.

 

After a couple of seconds, Cyllir stepped forward, and pulled both of them towards him. He gave Ta'tan'ia an energetic kiss, then Tahiri. Ta'tan'ia felt Tahiri's hands underneath her shirt, quickly followed by Cyllir's. With them working together—and with her cooperation—her shirt came off while their arousal went up. As they moved towards the bed, Tahiri's tube top came off, along with Ta'tan'ia's shorts and panties. Neither of them even considered taking off their fifteen-centimeter heels.

 

In moments the group was on the bed in a tangle of naked limbs. Ta'tan'ia was only wearing her collar, armlets, head harness, and heels, while Tahiri was wearing her flippy miniskirt, collar, cuffs, jewelry, and heels. The two of them had also worked together to get Cyllir completely naked.

 

Ta'tan'ia wound up in the middle of the bed on her back, with Tahiri on top of her, and Cyllir on her left. Tahiri kissed and nibbled her way down her chest and stomach, while Cyllir kept her occupied with kissing and groping her.

 

Suddenly Ta'tan'ia felt a shock of intense pleasure from her pussy, and let out a loud moan. A split-second later she realized what it was. Tahiri's tongue stud that she had been showing off all night was vibrating against her clit!

 

It was absolutely amazing! Her lekku—along with the rest of her body—quivered in pleasure as Tahiri licked her pussy. At the same time, she was making out with Cyllir while he explored her tits and body. Ta'tan'ia instinctively wrapped her legs around Tahiri's head to keep her mouth in tight against her.

 

“Hey, what's this?” Cyllir asked abruptly, holding her wrist.

 

He had been about to cuff her. He had a pair of open binders in one hand, but when he had grabbed her wrist he had felt her beskar chrono underneath her armlet. He stared at her suspiciously a few heartbeats, then glanced towards Tahiri's wrist, then back to Ta'tan'ia. “What the frakk is this?” he repeated, squeezing her wrist just above her cuff.

 

“Durasteel cuffs,” she explained with a seductive smile, keeping a tight hold on Tahiri's head with her thighs. “The armlet straps hide them.” She paused a heartbeat, then added, “Here, I'll show you.”

 

Ta'tan'ia pretended to reach towards her armlet, but at the last second changed direction and gave him a hard strike to his temple. The blow partially stunned him for a moment, just long enough for her to touch the side of his head and put him into a Force nap. Tahiri—who had stopped licking her pussy when she hit Cyllir and was looking up at her—opened her mouth in stunned surprise and tried to get up, but Ta'tan'ia kept her legs tight around her head. Then she locked eyes with her a moment, and calmly reached down and put her into a Force nap as well.

 

Ta'tan'ia was insanely horny from the vibrating tongue stud, not to mention the sexually turbo-charged nature of the party. If Chief Daala had known about vibrating tongue studs, Ta'tan'ia was sure she would have insisted on her getting one. She couldn't say the idea didn't turn her on a bit either. But as much as Ta'tan'ia wanted to masturbate until she came—a few times—she had to finish her mission. That meant getting up and seducing more Zoloz.

 

The Twi'lek pushed Cyllir off her, sat up, swung her leg over Tahiri's head, and off the bed. She found her thong on the floor halfway towards the 'fresher. As she pulled it up her legs into place over her purple pussy, she decided to leave her short-shorts and top. It would be a lot easier to seduce a bunch of drunken swoop-bikers in just her fifteen-centimeter heels, panties, armlets, and collar.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Nearly an hour later . . .

 

Ta'tan'ia was sitting in one of the younger Zoloz lap when she felt her comlink vibrate. Well, it was more like she was straddling him while they made out. Besides her armlets which hid her chrono and comlink, she had managed to keep her thong, and fifteen-centimeter clear plastex heels. Her top and short-shorts were long gone though. After a moment she remembered she had left them in the bedroom with Tahiri, Cyllir, and Dirc. She was still wearing her beskar collar as well, of course.

 

“Got to hit the 'fresher,” she whispered breathlessly to the young Zoloz as she climbed to her feet. She hoped he didn't try to follow her. He sighed, but didn't get up. If Wyric was comming her, it was important. Maybe he had come up with an exit plan.

 

She strutted into the bedroom where she had put Cyllir, Dirc and Tahiri in a Force nap, and closed the door behind herself. Then she quickly stepped into the 'fresher, and closed that door as well. A couple of seconds later she was reading Wyric's message. It said to comm him immediately.

 

“I assume you have a good reason for comming me?” she asked him once the link was made. “I was this close to getting laid.” For about the twentieth time today, she mentally added. While that number wasn't really accurate, it certainly seemed like it. “By this really sexy Zoloz,” she added for Wyric's benefit.

 

“Yes,” he confirmed.

 

He sounded a bit annoyed, which was exactly what she was aiming for, even if he hadn't commented on the getting laid by a sexy Zoloz line.

 

“I have a plan. It'll take a few minutes to set up, but after that it should go fast,” he explained. “I'm gonna make one of the guards at the warehouse believe a rival gang is trying to steal their blasters, and get him to comm Quinn. That should get most of the Zoloz there to come here. Meanwhile I head there, and pick you and Tahiri up.”

 

That sounded not-too-crazy to Ta'tan'ia. “Okay,” she replied. “About how long do I have?

 

There was a slight pause. “Ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” he said. “Will that be enough time for you? I could push it back a few minutes, if you really needed me to.” He paused a moment, then added, “You know, to finish getting laid.”

 

“Ten or fifteen minutes is fine,” she confirmed pointedly, ignoring his comment. Maybe I won't have to blow anymore Zoloz, she thought.

 

“Good. Where should I pick you and Tahiri up?”

 

Ta'tan'ia thought about that a second. It would probably be easier to get Tahiri out through the back, and the alley. However, if anyone saw them, they would be suspicious. If they went out the front though, they could hang by the door in the main room, and just step out when it was time. There might not even be any guards left to deal with.

 

“The front door,” she told him. “I'll turn on my tracking device to guide you to me.”

 

“Okay. Just be ready when I get there. We need to get moving before they figure out what's going on,” he told her firmly. “We don't want a running firefight to the spaceport.”

 

“I'll be ready,” she assured him. “May the Force be with you.”

 

“And you,” he responded.

 

Ta'tan'ia shut down the link, and pulled her armlet back up over her thumb, but didn't buckle the wrist strap in case she needed to use her comlink quickly.

 

As soon as she got back to the main room, Lukis—who she had been making out with—grabbed her again, and pulled her back into his lap. Since she didn't have anything else to do but wait, she happily resumed making out with him. He didn't seem inclined to let her refuse anyway.

 

A couple of minutes later, Ta'tan'ia sensed a feeling of rapidly increasing dread from Quinn. She tried to pry herself away from Lukis, but he held her tight, one hand on the back of her neck, and the other around her waist, grabbing her ass. Ta'tan'ia kept trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but he was having none of it. He even hooked a pair of fingers underneath her collar to keep her close.

 

Then the Zoloz president began screaming about some Rodians hitting the warehouse.

 

Lukis seemed to pause a moment, as if realizing what Quinn was saying. Ta'tan'ia took the opportunity to try to slide off him.

 

“Kriff!” Lukis shouted suddenly, shoving her the rest of the way off his lap.

 

Ta'tan'ia landed on her ass—hard. She quickly scurried out of his way as he leapt to his feet.

 

The clubhouse was in pandemonium. All the Zoloz—who were conscious—started grabbing blasters and various items of clothing they had discarded during the party. Most of them didn't seem to be doing a very good job of getting ready to fight though. Several of them tried to wake up their buddies who were passed out, while others went out towards their swoop-bikes. Ta'tan'ia scrambled to her feet in her fifteen-centimeter heels, and began easing back towards the bedroom, and Tahiri.

 

Quinn yelled for someone to get Cyllir and Dirc. Lukis acknowledged him, and headed for the bedrooms. Ta'tan'ia pressed herself against the wall, and let him pass, then followed him.

 

“What's going on?” she asked him in a confused voice as they entered the bedroom. As she stepped in, she quietly closed the door behind herself.

 

“Got to take care of some business,” Lukis answered absently as he began shouting at Cyllir and Dirc to get up.

 

Ta'tan'ia quietly stepped up behind him, put one hand against the side of his head and put him into a Force nap. Before he could react, he was out. She caught him as he fell, and lowered him to the floor. Now she just had to hope that no one else came looking for Cyllir, Dirc, or Lukis before she got out of here. That was one more Zoloz they wouldn't have to deal with for a while.

 

She found her shorts on the floor where Tahiri had tossed them earlier. She didn't see her top, so she just picked up a black Zoloz t-shirt off the floor. She guessed it was Dirc's. Besides covering her tits, she thought it would make a great souvenir. His vest would make a better one, but there was no way the Zoloz would let her wear that outside, even for a second.

 

That being said, there was something Ta'tan'ia wanted to take even more. Well, besides Tahiri, who was the whole point of this mission—her beskar knife.

 

It was in the sheath attached to Dirc's pants, which were on the floor. The problem was, she had to hide it enough to sneak it out of the clubhouse.

 

After a moment's thought, she set the knife down on the bed, and began unbuckling the straps on her right armlet. Then she carefully slid it underneath her armlet, with the handle towards her wrist, and buckled the straps back, leaving them loose enough to pull the knife out if she had to. Next she pushed her thumb back through the hole at the top to keep the armlet in place. Last of all Ta'tan'ia pulled Dirc's blaster out of it's holster, and tucked it into the front of the waistband of her shorts.

 

Next she went over to the bed, put her hand against Tahiri's forehead, and brought her partway out of the Force nap she had put her in. If Ta'tan'ia tried to carry her out, it would draw too much attention. She needed her at least semi-conscious. Hopefully she wouldn't try to put up a fight.

 

Ta'tan'ia found Tahiri's tube top on top of Dirc. She sat her up, and put it on her as best she could. Luckily Tahiri's red miniskirt was still around her waist, so she wouldn't have to find something for her to wear, and put it on her. Tahiri was also still wearing her boots, as well as her collar, cuffs and other jewelry.

 

Ta'tan'ia draped Tahiri's right arm over her shoulders, and stood her up. With her left hand she grabbed the clear plastex belt around Tahiri's waist, taking some of her weight. Just as she was about to leave, she remembered the remote she had seen earlier. She caught Dirc's pants with the tip of her stiletto heel, and kicked them up into her free hand. She found the remote in his left cargo pocket, and pushed it into her own pocket. Next she headed out of the bedroom, and towards the front door, half-carrying, half-dragging Tahiri along.

 

By the time they got back into the main room, all of the Zoloz who could stand up were gone. The rest—who weren't completely passed-out—weren't paying the slightest bit of attention to the two swoop-biker sluts stumbling along in fifteen-centimeter heels and collars, one of which looked to be barely-conscious herself. A couple of the remaining women looked like they might say something, but Ta'tan'ia put out her best don't-bother-me vibe through the Force, and they left them alone.

 

Finally Ta'tan'ia and Tahiri made it to the front doors. Outside there were a few Zoloz still heading for their swoop-bikes. By the unsteady way they were walking, Ta'tan'ia didn't consider them a threat to anyone, except other speeders on the roads. Several more Zoloz were attempting to start up their swoop-bikes, on both sides of the street. None of them were paying her and Tahiri any attention though.

 

Wyric was nowhere in sight either. Ta'tan'ia stamped her high-heeled foot in frustration as she scanned both directions. Then she heard the clubhouse doors opening behind her.

 

“What the kriff are you doing out here!?” a surprisingly sober—and upset—sounding Zoloz shouted as Ta'tan'ia turned towards him. He seemed to be mainly talking to Tahiri—who was still pretty out of it—but he quickly turned his attention to Ta'tan'ia. “You too! Get your asses back inside!” he demanded, reaching out to grab Tahiri's upper arm.

 

As he stepped towards them, Ta'tan'ia pulled the blaster out of her waistband, and shot him in the stomach. Luckily it was set for stun. She had forgotten to check it when she had picked it up. Unluckily, the Zoloz was apparently wearing some sort of body armor.

 

He grunted as the stun bolt knocked him back half-a-step. Then he lunged at Ta'tan'ia, grabbing for the blaster. As she tried to dodge—while still supporting most of Tahiri's weight—she fired off another shot, hitting him in his thigh. With Tahiri hanging on her though, Ta'tan'ia couldn't avoid him. The Zoloz knocked both women to the ground, landing mostly on Ta'tan'ia.

 

He instantly went straight for her blaster. His left hand grabbed it, while his right caught her wrist. As he tried to twist it out of her grip, Ta'tan'ia managed to snake her left arm out from underneath Tahiri. She slammed the heel of her palm against the side of his head—hard.

 

The Zoloz grunted again, and lost his grip on her blaster as he lurched to his left, away from the blow. Ta'tan'ia followed up with another strike to his head, but her forearm hit his shoulder, deflecting most of the force.

 

At the same time both of them were still struggling for the blaster as well. Suddenly he let go of her wrist, and raised his fist to punch her face. Ta'tan'ia quickly leaned up into his chest and twisted to her right, causing him to hit the back of her shoulder, and his forearm to hit the thick part of her left lek that grew out of the back of her head.

 

Twi'leks' lekku were extremely sensitive. Even from just the glancing blow, Ta'tan'ia winced in pain. Then she impulsively punched him in his ribs—hard.

 

Even through his body armor, he grunted from the blow. Ta'tan'ia, though, grimaced in pain. It felt like her hand had nearly been broken.

 

Suddenly the Zoloz changed tactics again, and reached for his right leg. Thanks to the Force, Ta'tan'ia sensed the move a split-second before he made it. He was going for his own blaster. She intercepted his hand mere centimeters from the grip, grabbing his thumb. She rotated his thumb away from his body, then savagely twisted it back towards his elbow until it snapped.

 

This time he howled in pain. Ta'tan'ia let go of his right hand, and slammed her palm against his left wrist, knocking his hand away from her blaster. Then she shoved the barrel into his armpit, and pulled the trigger.

 

The Zoloz let out a soft whoosh, and fell atop her, limp. Ta'tan'ia laid there a few heartbeats, then pushed him off her. Tahiri was still on the ground next to her, lying on her side, barely conscious.

 

Ta'tan'ia sat up, and quickly looked around. Just as she suspected, her little fight had drawn some unwanted attention. Two of the Zoloz from across the street, and a third one on her side of it, were heading towards her. Then she saw Wyric's speeder turning onto the street on the next block down.

 

As she rose further to a half-kneeling position, Ta'tan'ia tucked her blaster back into the waistband of her shorts. Once it was out of sight, she started pulling Tahiri back to her feet.

 

The Zoloz that was on the same side of the street as them was only a couple of meters away, and would reach them before Wyric. Ta'tan'ia got Tahiri upright, then slung her arm over her shoulders and grabbed her belt once again. Then she ran through a quick Force healing exercise as she opened and closed her left fist where she had punched the body armor.

 

“What the frakk's going on!?” the approaching Zoloz demanded, looking back and forth between the two women and the unconscious Zoloz on the ground. He seemed a little drunk, and had one hand on the handle of his blaster.

 

“He attacked us,” Ta'tan'ia replied, gesturing towards the Zoloz on the ground, and sounding frightened—almost crying. At the same time, she reached out with the Force to influence him. “We just want to leave now,” she told him, her voice growing calm. “Please leave us alone.”

 

The half-drunk Zoloz stared at her a couple of seconds, then shook his head. “You two sluts aren't going anywhere,” he responded, reaching for Ta'tan'ia's free wrist. “You're staying right here, until we say different.”

 

Before he completed the move, he was distracted by the rapid approach of Wyric's speeder. As the Zoloz' head turned away, Ta'tan'ia reached down towards her waist. In one smooth motion she pulled her blaster out of the waistband of her shorts, aimed, and shot him in the head. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

 

Ta'tan'ia quickly turned towards the Zoloz coming from across the street. One was pulling a blaster rifle off his back, while the other one was reaching for a blaster on his hip. Ta'tan'ia fired a couple of stun bolts at them, sending both diving to the duracrete. Before they could get up, Wyric's speeder came to a stop in front of her.

 

Ta'tan'ia set her blaster on the roof of the speeder, and yanked the back door open. Then she shoved Tahiri into the back seat headfirst. As she jumped in behind her, she reached for her blaster. Wyric was already accelerating away, but she managed to grab it as it slid off.

 

The first thing Ta'tan'ia did in the back seat of the speeder was to put Tahiri back into a Force nap. Then she glanced back to see if they were being followed.

 

“We're going to the spaceport, right?” she asked Wyric after she checked behind them a couple of seconds. At the same time, she pulled back her armlet, and begin tapping commands into her comlink.

 

“Yeah,” he answered from the driver's seat. “I gave the cops a tip that there were a bunch of armed swoop-bikers at a warehouse with a bunch of weapons,” he told her. “I was hoping they would just arrest a lot of them, and seize the weapons, but they're having a huge blaster fight now.”

 

Ta'tan'ia could sense his regret with that decision.

 

“The cops knew what they were going to. They are police after all,” she told him trying to cheer him up, still tapping commands into her comlink.

 

Suddenly a blaster bolt hit the back of the speeder.

 

Ta'tan'ia looked back, and spotted a swoop-bike a few hundred meters back, and two more a little ways behind that one. All of the swoop-bikes were gaining rapidly on them. Ta'tan'a ducked down onto the back seat as the lead Zoloz fired another shot. The bolt hit the duracrete, a bit low and off to the passenger side of the speeder.

 

This time Ta'tan'ia reached for her blaster with her hand, and lowered the driver's side rear window with the tip of her stiletto heel. Just as she was about to lean out the window to return fire, another blaster bolt went by, less than a meter from the window.

 

“Frakk! That was a kriffing kill shot!” Ta'tan'ia shouted in disbelief as she dived back into the speeder. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised, even though she had only stunned the two Zoloz outside the clubhouse. You just couldn't trust outlaw swoop-bikers to play by the rules.

 

She went to lean out of the window again to return fire, when she felt something nudging her side.

 

“Try this one,” Wyric told her.

 

She glanced down to see him passing her a blaster carbine.

 

“Thanks. . . partner,” she commented, setting her blaster in the door console and taking the weapon from him.

 

A moment later Ta'tan'ia was sticking her head out the window, aiming her carbine at the lead Zoloz. Letting the Force guide her, she pulled the trigger. The stun bolt hit him dead center in the chest. He flew out off his swoop-bike and hit the duracrete, tumbling for several meters before he finally came to a stop.

 

The other two Zoloz kept firing at them. They were too far back to shoot accurately with their blaster pistols, but they were closing the gap. Ta'tan'ia picked one, aimed, and shot the control vanes on the front of his swoop-bike. It immediately swerved hard to the left. He managed to bring it to a stop, but not before he hit a parked speeder. The last Zoloz wisely lost interest in chasing them.

 

Ta'tan'ia watched him a couple of more seconds to make sure he didn't change his mind, then eased back into the window. She calmly flipped the safety switch on the carbine, and set it on the floor, with the barrel leaning against the door.

 

“You missed that last one,” Wyric commented from the front seat.

 

Ta'tan'ia wasn't sure if he was talking about the one she didn't shoot at at all, or the one where she only disabled his swoop-bike. It didn't matter either way.

 

“They stopped following us,” she answered, tapping commands into her comlink once again. “I'm not trying to kill every being we run into.”

 

She was only too aware that the first Zoloz had most likely died when he fell off his swoop-bike.

 

“Take us to Tahiri's ship,” Ta'tan'ia told him. “I'm programming the autopilot on ours to take off now. We'll rendezvous with it later. That should distract whatever security they have on the ground, and in the air,” she explained.

 

“Good idea,” Wyric responded with a nod.

 

The Jedi's ship had a much more sophisticated autopilot than Tahiri's, which Ta'tan'ia could control from her wrist comlink. Since they didn't want to leave either of them alone with Tahiri, it made sense to program their ship to take off, while the three of them escaped in Tahiri's ship. Ta'tan'ia also used her wrist comm to start pre-flight on Tahiri's ship.

 

A couple of minutes later they arrived at the spaceport. As they approached the octagonal docking pit encircling Tahiri's ship Ta'tan'ia sensed alarm from Wyric. She glanced up in time to see someone ducking into the pit.

 

“Who was that?” Ta'tan'ia asked, equally concerned. No one should be around Tahiri's ship.

 

“I don't know,” Wyric answered grimly. “He looked like a Zoloz.”

 

Ta'tan'ia thought a second, and listened to the Force. “Go in,” she told him, tapping a few commands into her wrist comlink. The Force was telling her they had to hurry. “Maybe they don't know we took Tahiri yet.”

 

“I know,” Wyric responded with a nod. “And if they do, we'll need to take care of them before more show up.”

 

Just before the speeder turned and entered the pit, Ta'tan'ia finished tapping commands into her comlink, and picked up the blaster carbine. Then she calmed herself so the Force could guide her—especially if it guided her to start shooting bad guys.

 

There were half-a-dozen beings around Tahiri's ship, along with two swoop-bikes and a boxy cargo speeder. The five humans had the look of swoop-bikers, while the sixth one was a Bothan. Ta'tan'ia recognized him as the slicer they had hired to break into Tahiri's ship earlier.

 

Wyric brought the speeder to a stop, and opened his door. Ta'tan'ia stepped out on the passenger side, but stayed behind the door for cover in case things went bad. She crossed her left arm over her chest, attempting to hide the Zoloz logo on her stolen shirt.

 

“Excuse me. This is our ship,” Wyric announced firmly, standing up. “Please leave.” He stayed behind his door as well, and had his blaster out of sight in his right hand.

 

Two of the swoop-bikers were taking cover behind either end of the cargo speeder to Ta'tan'ia's left. Another one was crouched behind one of the swoop-bikes to her right. The two near the hatch with the Bothan took a couple of steps apart as well. They both had their blasters holstered, with their gun hands close to the grip. The others most likely had their blasters out, but were keeping them out of sight.

 

Ta'tan'ia had gotten many very good looks at the Zoloz' vests at the party. She had even learned the difference between the different chapters' distinctive patches. The two swoop-bikers in front of her were wearing similar vests, but several of the patches were different. Then she noticed name of the club on the bottom left of their vests—BLOOD RIDERS.

 

At the party, Ta'tan'ia had overheard several conversations about the Blood Riders. They were a smaller swoop-bike club that was new to the area, and enemies of the local Zoloz. She had remembered seeing them in some of the information on New Coronet she had researched, but hadn't really known anything about them until the party.

 

Even though they weren't Zoloz, Ta'tan'ia was ready to start shooting at the slightest inclining of danger. The Blood Riders were an outlaw swoop-bike gang just like the Zoloz after all. She could sense that Wyric was ready too. Luckily none of the swoop-bikers seemed to be too trigger-happy.

 

The Blood Rider on the left of the two near the hatch was obviously the one in charge. His name patch proclaimed him to be Ringo. He looked at Wyric a few moments, glanced at Ta'tan'ia, then back to Wyric.

 

“Unless the two of you have about twenty-five thousand credits, it's our ship,” Ringo replied matter-of-factly. “And I suggest you get the kriff out of here,” he added, setting his hand on his blaster. He paused a heartbeat, then added to Wyric, “You, anyway. The Twi'lek is welcome to stay,” glancing over and eying Ta'tan'ia a moment.

 

Ta'tan'ia still felt an urge to keep moving from the Force. She also didn't want to start shooting unless it was absolutely necessary, even if it was just stun bolts.

 

“Look, you guys can't even get into the ship,” Ta'tan'ia said, nodding her head towards the Bothan slicer, who was now hiding behind one of the landing struts. “He'll never be able to slice through our security measures.”

 

She almost mentioned that he had already tried for the Zoloz, but she didn't want the Blood Riders to kill him for it later.

 

“As long as we're here, it's our ship,” Ringo declared. “Unless you got twenty-five thousand credits, that is. But I can negotiate a bit on that if you're willing to spend a little time with us in the back of our cargo speeder.”

 

The Blood Rider leader's mind was focused on business. He only seemed to be talking about sex out of habit. Ta'tan'ia didn't feel that he would walk away from the ship for anything very easily. The Force, though, was urging Ta'tan'ia to get going—now.

 

“How much?” she suddenly asked with a seductive smile, loud enough to be heard by all of the swoop-bikers.

 

As she spoke, she casually tapped the display screen on her comlink. While several of the Blood Riders were definitely surprised by her question, the leader was obviously skeptical. Ta'tan'ia, though, was waiting on the distraction she had prepared just before they entered the docking pit. After a few heartbeats and nothing happening though, she realized her comlink must have gone back into stand-by mode. She mentally cursed herself, then quickly double tapped the screen to awaken it, then tapped it again on the lower right side.

 

“Five hundred,” Ringo answered. “And that's for all of—”

 

He was interrupted by the ship's engines turning on. In the enclosed docking pit it was extremely loud. All of the swoop-bikers unconsciously looked towards the rear of the ship. Ta'tan'ia already had her blaster carbine shouldered, and aiming.

 

The first Blood Rider she took out was the one on her right, crouching behind one of the swoop-bikes. He dropped from a stun bolt to the head. She continued turning to her right, spinning around and taking a step towards the back of the speeder for a better angle, and shot the Blood Rider at the rear of their cargo speeder. She wasn't sure if she knocked him completely out, but she kept spinning, scanning for Ringo, as she didn't have a good shot on the one towards the front of the cargo speeder.

 

The Blood Rider leader was diving behind the landing strut with the Bothan. Ta'tan'ia fired, missed, and let her momentum carry her to aim at the one on the right side of the hatch. He was scrambling for cover behind the aft landing strut, but her stun bolt caught him in his hip. As he fell to the ground she put another one in his chest for good measure. Then she turned her carbine back to Ringo, who Wyric had just missed as well.

 

“It's over,” Wyric shouted at him over the sound of the engines. “Throw out your blaster, and we'll let you go.”

 

Ta'tan'ia thought she had heard Wyric fire three shots all together. Since he didn't seem concerned with the Blood Rider at the front of the cargo speeder, he must have taken him out with one or two shots, then missed Ringo with one or two. Ta'tan'ia didn't sense any danger from the cargo speeder either.

 

“Frakk you!” Ringo shouted, sticking his blaster out to fire off a couple of shots. Both Jedi fired back, just missing where his blaster hand had been.

 

A moment later Ta'tan'ia fired another shot just to the right of the landing strut. She paused a split-second, then reached out with the Force and shoved him towards the left, exploiting his momentum as he instinctively leaned away from the shots, and pushed him out from behind the landing strut. Before he could get back behind cover Wyric hit him with a stun bolt, followed immediately by one from her. The Blood Rider dropped to the ground, unconscious.

 

“Nice work,” Wyric shouted, lowering his blaster as he checked the other swoop-bikers.

 

“Thanks,” Ta'tan'ia yelled back with tight smile, moving around to his side of the speeder. As the ship's engines continued powering up, they were getting louder.

 

She could sense that the Blood Rider at the rear of the cargo speeder was still conscious, but not completely. She must have just hit him in the arm or shoulder or something. He didn't seem to be about to jump up and start shooting at them though, which was the important thing.

 

“There's still one behind the cargo speeder,” she informed Wyric, keeping her carbine pointed that direction. “But I think I got him.”

 

“Okay,” he answered, turning his attention to the Bothan still cowering behind the landing strut.

 

“Hey you,” Wyric called out. “You can come out. The shooting is over.”

 

The Bothan nervously peeked out, then started climbing to his feet. He was terrified.

 

“You should run away now,” Wyric told him.

 

Ta'tan'ia could feel him back the command up with the Force.

 

The Bothan hesitated a moment, then took off towards the docking pit exit in a sprint.

 

“Start loading the ship,” Ta'tan'ia told Wyric, still keeping her attention on the Blood Rider behind the cargo speeder.

 

Wyric holstered his blaster, yanked Tahiri out of back floor of the speeder, threw her over his shoulder, and headed for the short ramp leading up to the ship's hatch. Ta'tan'ia kept alert with the Force, and her attention divided between the Blood Rider behind the cargo speeder and the entrance to the docking pit.

 

Almost as soon as Wyric disappeared into the ship with Tahiri, Ta'tan'ia got impatient, and began grabbing gear out of the speeder with one hand while still glancing between the cargo speeder and the docking pit entrance. Luckily Wyric had most of their gear already in a duffel bag. Ta'tan'ia tossed the few things she saw loose into the bag. Then she put the strap over her right shoulder with the bag on her left hip, and began walking towards the hatch, glancing back towards the cargo speeder for the Blood Rider behind it.

 

A handful of steps from the bottom of the ramp, Ta'tan'ia sensed danger from the entrance to the docking pit. She raised her blaster carbine as she turned to face the threat. It was more swoop-bikers. She hadn't heard their approach over the sound of the ship's engines.

 

The first swoop-biker was firing almost the second he entered the docking pit, missing her by less than half-a-meter. Ta'tan'ia returned fire, and shot him in the chest. He grunted, and kept shooting, as did the two behind him as they entered.

 

Kriffing body armor! Ta'tan'ia shot the second swoop-biker in the head while she continued backing towards the ramp. As she took another step, her right stiletto heel caught the edge of the ramp, and she fell on her ass. She grunted, then turned, scrambled halfway up the ramp, and leapt the rest of the way into the ship, a pair of blaster bolts missing her by centimeters. Then she immediately rolled to the side to take cover behind the bulkhead, then twisted around to return fire.

 

Now there were three swoop-bikers in the pit, and two more at the entrance, all shooting at her. Suddenly Wyric was standing just behind her, further away from the open hatch.

 

“Let me help you out some,” he said, casually hitting the button above her head to close the hatch.

 

The ramp promptly began rising, and the hatch started closing. Ta'tan'ia ducked back behind the bulkhead, and looked up at him.

 

“Took you long enough,” she told him, pretending to be upset.

 

“Well I didn't know you had invited your boyfriends,” he told her. “And I had to get Tahiri secure.”

 

“Well get us in the air,” she told him, nodding her head towards the cockpit. “Before they put a bomb or something on our hull.”

 

The suggestion was punctuated by a blaster bolt hitting the hull.

 

Wyric replied with barely a nod then took off in a sprint towards the cockpit. Ta'tan'ia climbed to her feet a bit slower. Her ankle was a little sore from tripping on the ramp. Looking back, she was amazed she hadn't fallen earlier. Even though she practically lived in fifteen-centimeter heels, she'd have to try not to go into combat with platform stiletto sandals again if she could avoid it.

 

Instead of heading to the cockpit to co-pilot, Ta'tan'ia headed towards the holding cells, where Wyric should have put Tahiri. The last group of swoop-bikers were Zoloz. Ta'tan'ia had even recognized the first one from the party. Torch, she thought his name was. There was no way they should have found her, Wyric, and Tahiri so fast. That meant that they must have a tracking device somewhere on Tahiri.

 

Ta'tan'ia found their passenger in the first cell, shackled hands and feet to the bunk, still unconscious. She felt the ship taking off as she turned off the force-field, and stepped into the cell. Next she pulled a scanner out of her bag, and turned it on. Almost instantly Ta'tan'ia found the tracking device. It was the collar locked around Tahiri's neck.

 

Ta'tan'ia frowned a moment in thought, then her eyes went wide as she remembered the remote she had taken from the clubhouse. She pulled it out of her pocket, glanced at the controls a moment, then hit the button she thought would unlock the collar, the green button in the outline of a circle. The button promptly turned red, and she heard a soft beep from the remote. Ta'tan'ia leaned over the shackled blonde, slid her thumbs underneath each side of the collar, and gave it a hard pull. It popped open at the back, with a hinge on either side, and she lifted it away.

 

Suddenly Ta'tan'ia realized something. This was literately the first time she had ever taken a collar off someone. Most of Ta'tan'ia's BDSM experience was with Chief Daala, who never allowed her to remove her collar. While she had had some BDSM play with some other beings, she had never taken someone else's collar off them.

 

Ta'tan'ia wondered if she should get another collar to put on Tahiri. She knew she would be alarmed if she somehow woke up without her collar or cuffs where they belonged, and after wearing hers for so long, Tahiri probably would be too.

 

Next she tried to turn off the tracking device, but couldn't. By this time she could feel the ship climbing hard for space. They would just have to vent the collar into space before they entered hyperspace. Ta'tan'ia stepped out of the cell, reactivated the force-field, and headed for the cockpit.

 

Then she wondered if maybe they should hang on to the collar, and use it to lure some Zoloz into a trap later. That made her idly wonder if it would fit around her own neck, above her collar. It looked to be about five centimeters wide, a little narrower than her collar. That would make them about eleven centimeters stacked. It looked to be a bit larger in diameter than her own, so they might not stack anyway.

 

Ta'tan'ia pushed her collar down as far as she could, then lifted Tahiri's to her throat. To her surprise, it actually fitted around the outside of her beskar collar. She held the front half in place, then closed the left half of the back, but not the other half. As she stepped into the cockpit, she took it back off. She couldn't have Wyric seeing her wearing it. It wasn't like she was a Zoloz slut, after all.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Several hours later . . .

 

“So you two managed to rescue Tahiri from almost a hundred outlaw swoop-bikers, and intercept an illegal weapons shipment, all without anyone even knowing you were Jedi?” Jaina Solo asked them.

 

“Yes Master,” Ta'tan'ia replied with a nod.

 

Wyric simply nodded his head in agreement.

 

“Well, that is one way of putting it,” Master Solo commented, nodding her head thoughtfully.

 

Both Jedi frowned slightly, but Jaina didn't give them a chance to interrupt.

 

“Another way of looking at it though, is you two got seven police officers killed in a shootout with heavily armed outlaw swoop-bikers while you—” she glanced pointedly at Ta'tan'ia, “were busy giving blow-jobs to the same swoop-bikers.”

 

Ta'tan'ia wriggled her lekku in embarrassment. While she had sucked more Zoloz than she had planned to, it wasn't all she had done at the party. She felt like she had done a lot for the mission.

 

“Um . . . I'm the one that decided to send the police to the warehouse, Master,” Wyric told her. “I felt like it was the best thing to do.”

 

Jaina Solo stared at him for a few heartbeats.

 

“If he didn't, then the Zoloz would have used Tahiri's tracking collar to ambush us before we made it to the ship, Master,” Ta'tan'ia explained. “We barely made it out with the police providing interference for us.”

 

Now Jaina stared at her a few heartbeats, then glanced back to Wyric. “Jedi Torin. What were your orders for this mission?” she asked him.

 

“To find former Jedi Tahiri Veila, Master,” he answered promptly.

 

Ta'tan'ia immediately saw where this was going.

 

“To find Tahiri, Master,” she answered when asked the same question.

 

Master Solo nodded her head in agreement. “So no one told either of you to rescue Tahiri, is that right?”

 

“Right, Master,” Ta'tan'ia responded obediently.

 

“But she had been kidnapped by the Zol—” Wyric began.

 

“You didn't know that for sure,” Jaina told him. “Jedi Ta'tan'ia said she didn't sense her being forced, and that she even seemed happy with the Zoloz. Now there is the matter of the glitteryll suppressing her memories, but Tahiri didn't seem to be in any danger, did she Ta'tan'ia?”

 

“No, Master,” she replied.

 

Ta'tan'ia almost mentioned that they had made her get all those tattoos and piercings, but she knew that that wouldn't matter to Master Solo.

 

“Yet the two of you concocted a plan to start a massive blaster fight as a distraction, then basically carry an unconscious woman out of an outlaw swoop-bike clubhouse, leaving a trail of carnage along the way,” the Jedi Master pointed out.

 

The two Jedi Knights glanced at each other for support.

 

“The blaster fight was my idea,” Wyric said. Then he frowned in irritation. “I mean, it wasn't my idea for them to have a blaster fight. I only hoped the police would be able to arrest a bunch of them, and seize the weapons.”

 

Ta'tan'ia thought about trying to explain some of the carnage during their escape, but she didn't think it would help.

 

Jaina stared at Wyric a couple of moments, then turned to Ta'tan'ia. “Jedi Ta'tan'ia. Looking back, what would you have done differently?”

 

“Commed you once I found Tahiri,” she told her. “And gotten further instructions.”

 

“Right,” Master Solo acknowledged. “So why didn't you contact me or one of the other Masters?” she asked her. “I mean, you do have a comlink maglocked around your wrist, don't you?”

 

“Yes Master,” Ta'tan'ia agreed, glancing down at the beskar encircling her right wrist. “I couldn't get alone, Master, and when I did I talked to Wyric first, who told me that you said not to comm you, because you were already on the way.”

 

The Jedi Master stared at Ta'tan'ia a few more heartbeats, then turned her attention to Wyric. “Jedi Torrin, why didn't you get instructions when you located the weapons?”

 

“I didn't think they were the priority, Master,” he answered.

 

“You didn't think keeping nearly two thousand blasters out of the hands of a violent swoop-bike gang was a priority?” she asked him.

 

“I understood that our mission was to find Tahiri, Master,” he explained. “I did what I thought was best with the weapons when I found them. I gave the police a chance to get them. I regret that some of them died doing so.”

 

Master Solo sighed. “Ta'tan'ia located Tahiri. She was safe, although in the midst of nearly a hundred outlaw swoop-bikers. With the weapons nearby, you could have revealed yourself, and claimed to have tracked them there to justify your presence if necessary. Then after most of the swoop-bikers were arrested or gone, you could have gotten Tahiri out,” she explained.

 

“I'm sorry, Master,” Wyric replied.

 

Jaina sat there for several seconds before responding. “Don't be. That went about as well as could be expected, under the circumstances. In fact, if you had been able to fully brief me, I probably would have told you to seize the weapons, and worry about Tahiri later.”

 

Ta'tan'ia was a little surprised Master Solo would have left Tahiri, but she guessed it made sense.

 

“But since you went ahead and saved her, I guess it's time for me to go check up on her,” Master Solo told them, glancing at the clear transparisteel chrono cuff on her wrist.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Torri Antillies laid on the bunk in the cell where the dork and purple-skinned Twi'lek were keeping her. They had given her a jumpsuit, but she didn't want to wear it. She'd just rather be naked than wear something like that. Besides, her being naked seemed to agitate the dorky one. She could also admire her Zoloz tats.

 

The cell was perhaps two meters by two-and-a-half meters. A bluish force-field was across the front of the cell, along with bars.

 

She heard the familiar tapping of stiletto heels approaching, and a moment later a short brunette appeared in front of the Force-field. She wearing a black jumpsuit, with an ugly brown robe over it. She definitely had the air of someone who was in charge, unlike the dork or the Twi'lek.

 

“Take me back to New Coronet,” Torri told the woman. “Or Cyllir is gonna find you, and kick the shavit out of you.”

 

That didn't seem to faze her at all.

 

“Let's wait until you get your memory back, then talk about that, okay,” she replied.

 

“I don't care about remembering shavit!” Torri shouted back, leaping to her feet. “I want to go back home to my Zoloz!”

 

“Your name is Tahiri Veila,” the woman said calmly. “You were a Jedi Knight. We are going to help you remember that, then we can talk about what you want to do.”

 

The Twi'lek had told her the same stuff, but she didn't believe a word of it. “I am Torri Antilles,” she told her flatly. “I belong to the Zoloz.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The End ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

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