Luke raised his arm as his lightsaber popped out of R2-D2. The lightsaber came at him, speeding, and it hit him in the eye.

"Oh!" he said, pacing around, his lightsaber falling off the skiff and into the sarlacc pit below. Luke bumped into a skiff guard, who then fell off the flimsy carrier speeder and suffered the same fate as Luke's saber.

"Aagh…," Luke said, tripping on Han's foot. The blinded smuggler and the Jedi Knight both fell off the skiff, too, and…

"OH-HO-HO!" Jabba the Hutt, galactic gangster, said. "Ah-peaser-de-chakurr-ba?"

Translation: They're dead, am I correct?

Bib Fortuna nodded, then winking at Jabba, who turned his eyes to a supremely horrified Leia Organa.

"Leia," Jabba laughed, continuing, "gaa-citi-da-toola!"

Translation: Dear Leia, you are mine!

…

It's been a month since the skirmish above the Pit of Carkoon. Luke and Han are still slowly being digested, and will be for another 999 years and eleven months. They're alive, but barely, really. Vader has been impatiently waiting for the next duel between him and his son. Lando left for Cloud City, for without its three best members, the Alliance really isn't what it used to be.

Fa'lar, formerly known as Princess Leia Organa, was dancing in a silky blue and silver bikini for the Hutt clan leader. The denizens of Jabba's palace threw credits at the poor woman, as she showed her curves and cleavage off in the revealing outfit.

"Haha!" Jabba said. Boba was not amused by slavery, and never was. He was offered Leia a week prior, but refused. He wanted a woman who wasn't forced to love him.

…

Everyone in Jabba's palace was asleep, from the Jawa who liked to hang around the gangster's hookah machine and frog tank, to the Max Rebo band, with Sy

Snootles sleeping on her blue elephant of a bandmate, the titular Max Rebo.

Fa'lar was in the back room of the palace, sleeping, laying on Jabba's surprisingly comfortable but disgusting stomach. She then felt a tingling sensation. A rush. She woke up, and saw Salacious Crumb pushing her blue cloth out of the way and fingering her. Deep. She looked up to the ceiling as Crumb continued, laughing. She started drooling as others around the three took notice. Fortuna came closer and started undoing her metal bra, as a Rodian started to suck on her nipple. Boba paid attention to this, and thought that one time in his life wouldn't hurt. He ran up to Fa'lar and turned her around. Crumb became squished under her belly, his finger going too deep down the slave's vagina. She reached orgasm as Boba undid his pants, aiming his penis for her buttocks.

...

Fa'lar woke up naked, an undressed Boba Fett sleeping next to her, a Jawa perching its head on her, and Droopy McCool holding her hand.

She took it away, waking the Max Rebo Band flute-player up.

"Arsee-toota," a nearby Ithorian said, laughing. She kicked the Jawa in the face and socked Boba with her elbow. Jawa mouths were surprisingly rough and scratchy.

Lyn Me, Sy Snootles, Rystall Sant and the other dancers and slave girls took her away to the dressing room, Salacious sucking the residue of the night's events off her outfit. (Jabba had made her so submissive in the past month that he trusted her enough to let her go whenever and wherever she pleased.)

"Ooh, you def need a new one," Lyn said. She was nice, however, she hero-worshipped Fett for some odd reason she'd never tell.

"How about this?" Rystall asked, holding up a flashy green metal bikini with no cloth, but rather a pair of metal underwear that fully covered her private areas.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Fa'lar exclaimed, snatching the new dress away and pecking the human-Theelin hybrid on the cheek. Rystall giggled a little as Leia went off.

Soon, she was dancing, the Max Rebo Band playing their new tune, Rockin' Force.

"A-too-see-lapa-raa-tune-aka-ma, ti-si-loooooooooooo!" Sy said. "Yeah! Yeah! C'mon, Max!"

The band leader and percussionist drummed, humming in a low tone.

Ak-rev, the Weequay bandmate, played a sensual instrumental as all dancers started kissing each other, moaning.

Everyone looked at Fa'lar.

Everyone's eyes were on her.

Oh, how she wished she was back on the Millennium Falcon with Luke, Han, Chewie and the droids. C-3PO and R2-D2 had been sold to a local Jawa tribe long ago, and Chewbacca was thrown into the rancor pit two weeks prior. Let's hope non-humanoids can make peace and be dungeon monsters together.

Fa'lar ran away to the dressing room, everyone watching her run.

The band went silent.

"CHEEKA-LA-PUTA?" Jabba shouted. The band resumed, but Rystall ran to the dressing room after Jabba's favorite slave girl.

Fa'lar was crying, taking off her golden hairpieces and throwing them across the room at a tank of captured frogs for Jabba to eat later on.

"Kriff. Leia?" Sant questioned, looking at the slave.

"Not my name," she said. "At least...I mean, at least I think it isn't. Fa'lar now, didn't you hear? I live in this part brothel, part palace and part prison for what? A single lick from a disgusting oversized slug? A bunch of unfamiliar aliens raping me in the middle of the night?"

Rystall looked down. "See, when I was young, I was a dancer on Coruscant. Everyone loved me! Then...then I went to Kessel for a supposed two-week gig at a local bar. I was put in the Pyke Syndicate's slave detention center, forced to do things with the other girls and even some of the Pykes. Disgusting ones, they were. A smuggler named Lando Calrissian saved me. Due to my status as a lowlife slave, I dropped down from a high-level Coruscanti worker to a member of some backwater band I managed to be hired by on Tatooine...my home for the past 23 years."

Fa'lar turned Sant's head up with her fingers.

"We're both lowlives, and we're in this together."

They locked lips, kissing 'till the break of dusk.