Our Only Hope
The dawn illuminated my statuesque vastness as I sunned myself on the usual rock, not far from my sisters. Somehow, today was different. A mournful cooing floated down from the flock of porgs as I felt the discomfort tingling in my engorged teats. I worried that I would have to ask one of my sisters to lend me her pups.
My own pups had died tragically while exploring a submerged X-wing fighter, but I had not usually suffered. The bearded and apologetic hermit who inhabited our island had come to me, gently expressing the nourishing, verdant fluid from my tumescent mammary glands. He seemed to have ancient knowledge of the gentlest way to stroke the milk from me with his natural hand, while he grasped a container in his robotic appendage. Eventually, as we came to know one another, he dispensed with the container for the most part, expressing my warm milk directly into his mouth.
If he had to be away for some time on a fishing expedition, or meditating over something in the old and gnarled tree on the island, the hermit would briefly activate his mystical powers to milk me from a distance. Warm fountains of green would flow forth onto the rocks, but I didn't mind the mess. Today, though, he had not done so. Something deep inside me told me that the hermit would never return. Sadness welled up inside me.
Months passed and I consoled my turgid engorgement by occasionally providing extra snacks to my sister's pups. The porgs and Caretakers rejected my suggestions that they add dairy to their diet, and I was beginning to contemplate how I could get rid of this curse, the natural bounty that was causing me so much pain.
Dejected, I flopped down the rocks and swam over to the weird seaweed hole that we thala-sirens generally avoided. It was calling to me in a way I couldn't describe, and before I knew what was happening, I was swimming in a deep cavern under the island. Voices flitted through my head.
"Thala-Siren," called the first voice I could discern, which was clear and feminine, "once you aided my master in his long hermitage. Help me, Thala-Siren. You're our only hope."
I stopped swimming and beached myself on a rocky area, trying to place the voice. Could it be the young female apprentice who had visited the hermit in his final days? I tried to be peaceful and let the voices speak to me. Now a deeper voice cut in.
"You must wonder who we are and why we call upon you. Rey and I are both former apprentices of the Jedi Master who made his home on your island. I would rather not be too direct about this, but…well, each of us left his tutelage before learning about Force sex." The voice in the vision cleared his throat, embarrassed. "We didn't, uh, know that when two Force users have amazing, mindblowing sex, they are likely to, uh, generate an unusual number of offspring."
The first voice came to the fore again in my mind. "What Ben is trying to say is that I am pregnant. With sextuplets." There was a pause. "I have noticed, because my dear darksider keeps pointing it out, that my breasts have become very large in preparation for feeding the babies. However, I only have two of them. That is why we are calling on your aid. If we took refuge on your island, would you help me nurse the next generation of Force users? Ben and I are also hopeful that it would be a good place to escape the entire galaxy full of people who want to kill us."
Hope welled in my four ample bosoms. The vision had given my life meaning and direction once again. I could honor the legacy of the bearded hermit who once cared for me so tenderly. "Moooooooo," I trumpeted loudly, certain that their mysterious powers would allow the Force-filled parents to sense my joy.