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Part Time Job	By : dschinny Category: Star Wars (All) > General Views: 7157 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 4 - Money is power.
Tomoe’s shoulders hurt from the strain when she was pushed out into the harsh light of the afternoon. The day seemed to be endless, as if an evil fate hit re-wind again and again. She felt the bile rising in her throat when she was thrown face down on the backseat, the door slamming shut against her toes. She curled up and moved in a sitting position, spotting the walrus face of the driver in the rear-view mirror.
She returned his stare silently. If he didn’t pay attention to the traffic and crashed, just the better. It would be easier to convince the police forces of this place to contact home than to exit from a speeding vehicle with an armed chauffeur. “I don’t like that look, Missy,” he grumbled, “whatever you have planned, knock it off.”
“Thank you for the advice.” Tomoe retorted with a smile and a small nod. She knew she needed a break to preserve some straight thinking despite the exhaustion. She wouldn’t waste her energy on someone used to hitting and be hit.
The shuttle seemed to have returned to the industrial area of the space port and pulled up to a guarded gate in a high, faceless boundary wall. Some traffic of pedestrians, ground transports of all sizes and shapes and four legged saurian creatures was conducted through the gate into a market area. Walrus parked and opened the backdoor, “Get out.” As Tomoe twisted towards him in compliance he seized her by the upper arm, dragged her out and pressed her against the back of the car with his full weight as he slammed the door shut and locked it. “Do not make me harm you Missy. It is my responsibility to get you to the traders. But my report to them on your conduct will go a long way to how you are treated.”
“Yes,” her voice became as soft as her padded form when she turned her head and breathed into walrus’ ear “What do you want me to do?”
“Shut up and walk in front of me,” irritated, he pushed his prisoner forwards to a low white building bordering the pathway.
Thick walls kept the heat outside a spacious office room, sparsely decorated with printed artwork, half of the floor covered with a lush carpet. It was dominated by a large desk with a small old man with a wrinkly face behind it who took his time to finish whatever he was reading. Then the trader lifted his gaze at the woman with a noisy walrus on the heels. “What do you want?” he rasped instead of a welcome.
Tomoe bowed silently at the trader, then curtsied and smiled at walrus with her head slightly tilted.
“This slave is for sale.” Walrus remembered.
“Not interested.” The trader winked and went back to what he was reading.
“She’s obedient, good health, full papers.”
“We don’t trade in cattle,” the trader replied flatly.
Tomoe took a deep breath “I am no cattle, Sir. I’m a trained dancer, musician and a licensed entertainer.” She took four light quick steps forwards, “an off-worldly one, as you presume, but I can assure you: this place is more exotic to me than I appear to you. Please have a look at the papers Mr. Oniro’s guard brought with him.”
These were probably the first full sentences of a female the trader had heard in weeks. “Exotic?” he grumbled and went around his desk, catching Tomoe’s jaw between his gaunt fingertips and moved it from right to left. “Pretty average... what could you probably do for me?” he grabbed the papers from Walrus.
“I could widen your range of products, entertain you and your guests while you are looking for my match ...and if it’s hard to find one, you could negotiate a fee for my return with my corporation.”
“So they would pay to have you back?” he flipped through the sheets of flimsy in his left.
“They will... in order to amortize the mortgage for my training fully.”
“How did you get here today in first place?”
“A bounty hunter named Fett captured me and handed me over to the Oniro-clan.”
“I see.” The trader pondered. The papers stank. The merchandise was battered and weary. It would take days to recover. And worst: if hijacking had worked once, that could happen again - at his expenses. “How much?”
“Ten thousand” Walrus retorted, happy to be back in business.
“You must be joking.” For that amount plus interest, this ‘Sen-Ike-Corporation’ (whatever it was) could hire a pack of bounty hunters, which would leave him less time to attract bidders for an worthwhile auction... and then he’d have to provide secure custody... against the infamous Fett who’d work for the highest bidder ... No, he didn’t need that, he was too old for that! “Get out of my office.”
“Nine thousand?”
“GET OUT OR I CALL THE GUARDS.”
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” Tomoe padded back to her watchdog, “Be assured of my company’s kind interest in your scope of service.” She bowed, turned and stepped out into the bright sunlight. The financial interest had been wiped by fear at the mentioning of the mercenary’s name rather than by the price. Fett. Maybe there was more about it than she thought something that could work to her advantage. For now she would try to place as many homing beacons as possible and stay unsold without being beaten into pulp.
A harsh push shoved her further down the pathway. “We’ve got some more options, Missy.” Walrus snarled.

In the next office a brawny guardsman wrapped in dusty brown cloth discussed something with his boss. The man was clean shaven, had nearly shoulder length hair that was tightly tied back in a ponytail, he wore expensive clothing, immaculate pressed slacks, a turtleneck and an expensive nerf-leather jacket. They stopped their conversation immediately at the sound of the door. “Guard the door... You have something to sell?”
“Yes, this pleasure slave.” Walrus marched her in the middle of the room “Stand still,” he ordered quietly and stood back. Tomoe tensed slightly against the binders tying her hands on her back.
“Oh - really?” a hint of amusement swung in the slavers baritone voice at the sight of the shapeless form clad in a somewhat baggy shift and skirt “Pregnant?” He suddenly reached out, grabbed her braided hair and twisted her head to face him, his dark predatory eyes boring into pools of ebony. His well manicured hand made short process with the shift and a top, dragging out a couple of towels padding out the hourglass shape of her slim waist. “Now... not a very co-operative pretty lady, is she?” He chuckled then reached up and began to grab one of her breasts, his smooth fingers harshly rolling her nipple. He spotted a bluish bruise on her left pectoral “More of a freshly caught tomboy... Still on tranqs?” he inquired sharply at her empty stare and non-reaction at his taunts.
‘Panic?’ his hands smoothed over her flat, rock hard stomach “Shhh,” he soothed. Immediately his eyes and voice were calm, soothing again. “I really do not want to make this hard on you. Just co-operate with me, and then things around here go smoothly, easily.” His other hand had released her hair and was stroking her face now, trailing down her throat and running gently over her shoulder. “What sort of pleasure?”
Tomoe waited, her face a calm mask. ‘Just bent down a little more so I can head-butt your nose into your brain’ One hand caressed her breast while his other slid down and found the soft delta of her pussy. Releasing her breast he slid around her, groping her hips and buttock. “How long do you think you can keep up this.... tension?” One of his fingers sought out her clitoris and rubbed it offering her pleasure.
Walrus stared openly “Well, she’s a trained entertainer... speak up, tell him some details,” he barked.
“For... hours.” Tomoe whispered in the slaver’s ear “As he said, I’m well trained in dancing, flute playing, serving food and beverages, maintaining a proper household...”
“Ahhh... that’s why you were found guilty of impure behavior,” he mocked and a heavy hand crashed down in the curve of her neck so hard her knees buckled. “you’ll just have to relearn some things,” He stepped around the kneeling woman and grabbed her hair again, jerked her head to face him while unzipping his fly “Flute playing for example.”
“Blood tastes metallic... it will purify what you soiled... while... I watch you die.” the previously absent dark pools of her eyes were covered in ice as she bared white teeth. The grip on her hair was released with a harsh push of self-preserving instinct. She used the momentum to roll back on her feet. She could have sworn she had heard a yelp, but her opponent regained his composure quickly.
“Do you want me to...” he hesitated in the middle of a bone jarring slap. Without another word he realised she would and worse, he would have to pay for any damage he inflicted. “This one will take a lot of training. But I’m willing to sell her on commission for you. She might earn you 2 grands for now, but once she’s broken in, it might be 10. Then we share 50/50.”
“On commission... and you bear the risk?” Walrus inquired.
“Of course not. She’s completely mad.”
“Hm, I might take you up on that offer... after inquiry.”
“Agreed.” the slaver turned and strolled back to his desk. “Here’s one advice for free... gag her before she bites off her own tongue.” He summoned his guard to help Walrus to force a lump made from her top between her teeth and secure it with a binder.

The Walrus dragged Tomoe outside, then peered at her and smoothed her torn shirt back up around her shoulders. “Let’s try something more exotic.” He dragged her around the bend of the pathway into the area where the market bordered to the spaceport. He banged his fist against a wide roller gate which was in turn levitated just enough to allow a ducked entrance, the gaping dark hole behind swallowing them.
“Ahh, fresh meat...” a toothy voice homed in. When her eyes accustomed to the gloom, Tomoe spotted a bulky head with long, twitching tentacles and a mouth full of pointed teeth. A long, slender, taloned claw patted Walrus’ hand to release her. “We’ll take it from here,” the blue Twilek beckoned her under the single dirty roof light and turned to a small stand nearby, snapping on a pair of gloves. His cold hand pushed the shirt off her chest and shoulders, securing her upper arms further. Then a probe scratched over the smooth skin of her side, drawing blood the second time. He snapped the probe into an analysis slot and huffed “clean” at the read-out and “bend her over” at a dark corner of the room.
The red blinking light sitting there started to move. What Tomoe had taken for a device of sorts uncoiled into a seven feet high, hairy beast standing on two lanky legs. The light came from a visor covering part of the gash where its left eye had once been. It charged with a low roar. Instinctively Tomoe ducked under its swinging left, but her dash was ended by the beast’s incredibly long right arm that came down on her neck and shoulder. Before she hit the ground, she was folded up neatly face to ankles, her back and cuffed arms pressed against the hairy columns of the beast’s thighs. It sniffed and groaned, effortlessly tearing the remains of her skirt from her hips. The moment the fabric gave way, Tomoe whipped up a heel, hitting the beast square on the wide forehead. It bellowed in surprise and bundled her up again, lifted her off the ground and pressed her tightly against its chest.
“Be still.” The toothy voice of the unaffected Twilek ordered. She felt the coolness of jelly by her tight asshole for a moment and then suddenly the probe of a gloved finger deep inside her ass. Involuntarily she moaned in fear at the intrusion by his talon as he liberally coated her tight asshole inside and out. He then repeated the procedure to her cunt hole, clinical and professional, like some sadistic scientist.
“Hmm. If her teeth are ok, I offer 2.5 thousand credits.”
“They are. Leave the gag, it keeps her from biting her tongue off.”
“I’d like to check myself.”
“You damage the merchandise, you pay. It’s 3 grands.”
“No worries.” The Twilek turned to his stand again, picking up an injector. The hairy beast hoisted his captive up to face his partner. It’s muzzle dug into the mob of ebony black hair, inhaling deeply. “She won’t bite anybody soon.” He placed injections on the right and left sides of her mandible, her jaw growing numb instantly. He watched her compelled swallow with scientific interest, then removed the gag and regarded her molars with a small flashlight. “Good. No more than 2.5 thousand credits though. Pharmaceuticals and extra restraints are expensive.”
“Your Wookie won’t have trouble restraining her. 2.9”
“An infatuated Wookie is no bonus, it’s a problem. 2.5” The Twilek cocked his head at the low groan of his partner “Ok, 2.6 is our last offer. He says: take it and get lost.”
Walrus stared at the red pulse of the visor and the bulky shoulder of the Twilek’s Wookie-partner. This was the best offer he got and he had been told to complete business the same day. Besides, he wasn’t paid enough to cross such a beast. “2.6 then - agreed.” He exchanged some sheets of flimsy against a credit chip and secured the transaction. Then the roller gate screeched close behind him.

Meanwhile, Jango returned to the Slave I parked in the spaceport among other ships of similar size. Its visible weapon systems helped to disperse any interest sparked by the unique layout.
Seated in the co-pilot’s seat, Boba hung his head backwards to face him when he climbed into the cockpit. “Delivery went as planned?” he picked up his father’s professional ductus. They were a team after all, even though this didn’t feel like a winning moment to him.
“Yes,” Jango pulled himself up into the pilot’s seat. He settled in, watched Boba’s disappointed face then activated a monitor and control board over their heads.
“Don’t we leave now?” Boba regarded the untouched flight controls, then the top view of the buildings flickering in sight on the other monitor.
“Not yet.” Jango opened the fastenings of his helmet and pulled it over his head, smirking at the ‘Why?’ imprinted on his son’s face. “We eat something first, maybe pick-up something afterwards.” He was aware that his reply was lacking his usual precision.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You want to grow?”
“Sure.”
“Then you have to eat.”
“Okay... What’s so interesting in this picture?”
“You said that Tomoe was ‘nice’.”
“Who cares? She’s gone.”
“Into this building.” Jango tapped on the screen and immediately got Boba’s interest, “and you, my son, are in need of a baby sitter.” He added with a widened smirk.
Boba pouted. “I don’t…” He wasn’t a baby! Then he got around his dad’s smirk “Uhm... okay?” He swallowed the rest of his protest and returned his gaze to the monitor.
“Since this is settled, we eat.” Jango felt fully contend at his wizened son’s newfound cooperation. One hot tryst or two would take care of his own cravings and he would be as good as new.
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Part Time Job

Chapter 4 - Money is power.