Ben Loses His Virginity

42 ABY

In the lower levels of Coruscant that weren't Vongformed, drinking laws weren't really enforced. Bar fights were frequent and it was a miracle if anyone would ever survive such a night of inebriated violence. Tonight, though, none of that was on Ben Skywalker's mind as he drank down his sorrows in a cantina stool. The Rodian bartender let the alcohol come to Ben's glass shot by shot at his command even as his speech began to slur.

"We don't see many Jedi down in these levels," the bartender finally commented.

Ben looked up from the counter that he was staring down on in his drunken state. He managed to make a look of confusion that betrayed his inebriation. "How'd you know I was a Jedi?" He was wearing civilian clothing; a t-shirt and shorts, and he didn't even bring his lightsaber. His dad would kill him if he ever found out about that, never mind the fact that he was consuming alcohol as a minor, and getting wasted at that, in a cantina that didn't care about his age.

"You're quite recognizable as the son of Luke Skywalker," the Rodian answered. "If half the galaxy doesn't know about your actions in the last war, the obvious similarity to the Grand Master of the Jedi Order will do it."

Ben sighed in defeat. He then looked around himself, and in spite of his drunkenness, he only saw about three or four other beings that were either sleeping or not even noticing him at all otherwise. In his inebriation, he couldn't even tell what species they were from this distance.

He looked back at the bartender. "You'll be tellin' your friends about this? That you served the son of the great and legendary Luke Skywalker?"

"Nah, if I did that, one of 'em is gonna blab, the cops'll figure me out, and then they'll haul my ass in to jail for serving minors," the bartender replied.

Ben lifted an eyebrow. "If you have that kinda trust in your pals, you should probably get some new friends then."

The Rodian snorted. "Easy for you to say."

Ben didn't press on. He simply waved his now-empty glass for another shot of Corellian whiskey. The bartender poured one in without comment.

"So what's a successful Jedi like you doin' down here in a place like this?" the bartender inquired.

Ben swallowed his shot and exhaled in relief after the burning sensation in his gullet came to pass. "Is it really any wonder?"

"The war, eh? Losin' your mom and all that?"

"Bingo."

The bartender nodded. "Wanna talk about it?"

Ben chuckled slightly. "You a psychiatrist or something, pal?"

The Rodian shrugged. "Just asking."

Ben set down his empty glass. "Well, the answer's no."

The bartender cocked his head in nonchalance. "Fine by me. Want another shot or you good for the night?"

"I think I'll pay my bill now," Ben slurred as he reached for the wallet in his pocket.

A few minutes later, Ben stumbled out of the near-empty bar, turned, and began to shuffle down the crosswalk of this level to the nearest turbolift–the nearest one that he could identify as a drunk anyway. About halfway there, at least by his unreliable judgment, a feminine voice from off to the side stopped him in his tracks.

"Hey, there, stud, you lookin' for a good time?"

Ben lazily turned to the direction of the voice and he could identify the source as an attractive-looking blonde scantily clad in a black dress that revealed a fair amount of ample cleavage and knee-high gogo boots. She had quite a smile on her; one that was a sale for Ben.

The young Jedi Knight smiled. "Sure, why not?"

"Okay, but if we're doin' business, then I should probably tell you that I... Hey, aren't you that Jedi who's the son of Luke Skywalker? I recognize you from the holos."

"Jedi Knight Ben Skywalker at your service, ma'am," Ben said in a bow that nearly took out his balance. With minor help from the Force, he managed to right himself up into a standing position again, even if it was a little wobbly.

Then something changed in the woman's smile. "Well, if that's the case, let me be at your service tonight. You won't even have to thank me."

Ben didn't need anymore convincing a few moments earlier; now he believed that it was his destiny to do this.

~o~

Ben woke up with his very first hangover in an apartment he didn't recognize. He couldn't a remember a single thing from the previous night, not even when he got drunk in the first place. As he nursed his aching head with one hand, he used the other to push himself up into a sitting position so he could swing his legs off the cot. He rubbed his hair and face in one slow motion with both hands, feeling a layer of grease come off before he set down his hands at his sides and took the time to observe his surroundings.

He was in a small and sparse but dirty apartment bedroom that was otherwise nondescript. There wasn't even a single photo in the entire room. Ben identified a single drawer off in the corner that accumulated a layer of dust on its top.

The teenager then turned in his seat and found the attractive woman he bedded the previous night.

Except, in the light of Coruscant's sun that spilled through the room's window, she wasn't all that attractive. Come to think of it, she was quite ugly. None of the makeup she wore could cover up her unpleasant features. She looked like she was only slightly younger than his Aunt Leia... back when he was born! This woman, though, just wasn't his type anyway. In fact, she was the type that disgusted him the most.

A hooker.

Great, Ben thought. Of all the times to lose my virginity, it had to be to a hooker.

Silently, he stood up from the bed and began to search the room for his clothes. One by one, he put them on, always wary and careful about waking the prostitute up.

By the time he was fully clothed, he made a move for the door. But he was once again stopped by the voice of the hooker.

"Not sayin' goodbye, Jedi Knight Skywalker?"

Ben slowly turned back to the hooker, who was wearing a stare of restrained anger. Ben repressed a shudder from the stare of this unpleasant-looking woman.

The young Jedi put on a smile that was faker than the woman's breasts, from what he could see. "Did I forget to pay you? I'm sorry about that. Here, just let me take out my wallet." He made a move for his pocket.

"No need. I told you last night that I would do you for free."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, because you're a famous Jedi, and you got an even more famous daddy to boot."

"Ah," Ben said with a nod. "So... does that mean I can leave then?"

The hooker rolled her eyes before reaching for something that rested on the floor on the other side of the bed. Ben was prepared to react in case the prostitute decided to kill him for not being appreciative of the "service" she provided last night, just in case she was psychologically ill; considering his hangover, too, Ben had a thought that his danger sense wouldn't work. Fortunately, he needn't have worried, for she only came up with a deathstick and a lighter. She lit the stick, took a puff of it, and exhaled a noxious fume of smoke that would be the result of some further lung-blackening.

"Yeah, sure, go on ahead, kid."

"Great," Ben replied evenly before turning around, continued to the door, and left.

As he walked down the hall of the rundown apartment complex, which the hooker no doubt lived in, Ben had only one thought running in his aching head.

I'd've rather hooked up with a Sith girl than that woman.

THE END.