The Lars Homestead, Jundland Wastes

A gentle wind had kicked up a brief yet inconvenient Sandstorm. The winds were good, especially for the harvests, bringing cooler, moist air ripe for condensing. It was the sand the winds dragged with them like an all too eager distant cousin. They'd scuttle in like vermin, grabbing anything and everything they could get their grains upon and thrash, dash and destroy. A week's worth of maintenance on a Vaporator if one was unlucky, two days at best.

Owen was closer to lucky this time, a step beyond it. In fact, despite fate's efforts to curse his family with nothing but the badness in the world, the world smiled on him this day, only a single Vaporator offline, a quick clean and part replacement. They'll be up and running by morning tomorrow. A merciful fact in the scorching air of the twin suns cresting over the empty and naked horizon.

With another turn of the Hydrospanner greased with a thin line of sweat from his palm, the boy beneath him finally wrenched off the Coupling of the Coolant Intake, dodging just at the last second to avoid the downpour of sand, spilling from the new gap in the vessel, earning the boy a chuckle from his uncle above who continued to unfasten the bolts of the Air Intakes.

"How many times do I need to tell you 'stand to the sid-"

"Side of valves, gauges, doors and windows when there's a chance something's comin' through them, I know Uncle." The boy responded, lifting his head and flashing a familiar, cocky grin, star blue eyes sheltered under a wavy tuft of Sandstrewn, blonde hair. "And like every time before, I'm too quick for whatever comes."

"And too cocky to quit while you were ahead." He shakes his head lightly, breaking his gaze from the boy, fighting off the glare with a typical Tatooinian squint as he tossed down the cover of the Density Sensor bed.

"What do you mean 'were' ahead?" He chided up before hearing the faint, dribbling sputter of liquid, and an oddly cold sensation upon his boot, glancing down at the slow winding river of oily blue, chilling coolant drizzling down the body of the Vaporator and soaking through his boot, now kicking wildly as he hops away, lamenting the newest addition to his collection of stains on his footwear. "Son of a Hutt!" He kicked his shoe into several nearby mounds of sand, hoping the coarse land would dry up some of the mess he tracked away from the repair.

Atop the towering Moisture Vaporator, Owen carefully crawled an arm and a head deep into the base of the spire while sitting upon his ladder, rummaging around the sand-stuffed innards of the mechanical beast, shoving out the occasional handful of the circuit slaying stuffing, along with a muffled grunt and curse of his own. "Circuits are bogged, can't even begin to imagine how long it'll take if we try to patch it up ourselves. Luke!" He called out with a choking echo, finally wrenching his head free with a soft 'clang' where he smacked his crown against the metallic body.
"Ow! Hey, grab your Speeder and a Dataslate. We need parts from town!"

The words had hardly left his mouth before Luke had shot through the door and down the stairs. Before long, he had scooted back up them, Dataslate in hand and a new pair of boots clean on, as clean as anything could be on Tatooine. By now, Owen had stopped asking, just as he had stopped caring, his family never was one for 'the big city' nor even a small one like Anchorhead. People were mean, untrustworthy, selfish at best and either useless or trying to con you, no in-betweens.
Beru felt more comfortable making her visits once upon a time. She grew to love the peace, something she could never find in a city, but she was more understanding of young Luke's almost insistence to take every chance he could to strive out to civilization. 'His friends' or 'Curiosity', which, while he could imagine, he couldn't understand, not truly. 'Just like his father' he never liked hearing that in particular.

"I don't think anyone was going to care about a stain in truth." He goaded, shaking his head a tad at the boy's efforts, but didn't want to press the subject as he relayed the shopping list, even telling him to 'pack up the harvest delivery and get what he could for it' before the Suns had even reached noon, Luke was over the horizon and out of sight, but even still to this day, never out of mind. He was glad only the one Vaporator was offline today, a small win for the Lars family.


Anchorhead, Jundland Wastes

60 golden Peggats quietly jingled within a pouch upon Luke's belt. He kept such a pouch lined with Bantha Fur to soften the metallic rattle of such a bounty. Luke had been coming to Anchorhead long enough to know the rattle of coins was keen on the ears of would-be thugs that dotted the alleyways around town. The Speeder would be fine, parked in the secure compound of the local Water Baron as the service droids unloaded the water-cargo it carried, as good as gold to the locals, but nigh impossible to farm near such a large population, everyone once upon a time had the same plan, farm near the towns, and enjoy both the comforts of civilization and the profits of farming, but when a hundred thousand others have the same plan, suddenly the air gets very, very dry. Painfully dry.

A farmer like his uncle and he could afford what was considered to most of Tatooine as a life of luxury, regular(ish) income, a relationship with local Barons, a steady self-supply of water and food with a hydro-farm, enough money to afford an array of computing Class-1 droids, maybe even a labouring Class-5, or dare say a skilled Class-3 if one saved up enough or managed to avoid a sandstorm clogging up a dunes harvest.

Farmers, the 'rich' on a backwater planet of the desperate and destitute, and yet there was little animosity or even jealousy. Farmers worked hard, they kept the world quenched and fought off the savage locals who constantly targeted, raided and enslaved them. Not a life many wanted, but many respected and all relied upon, generating plenty of other local business, especially with their local scrap dealers, which is where Luke now found himself.

Owen's list was a short one. Usually, Luke would find himself hopping between several stalls and a few stores in a desperate hunt to not only find a part but to find a part that wasn't beyond reasonable pricing. Half the parts the vendors sold had such an exorbitant markup that one could buy themselves a brand new, fresh, off-the-line model of whatever they sought to repair if only any of it shipped out as far as Tatooine. With such a short list, Luke knew that he could likely nab most of the items in a single store, and he knew just the one.

The door to Higgs Hardware lay wide-open as it often did, the owner's idea of enticing customers into its shopfloor by setting an example of 'open doors and open arms' yet stepping inside, Luke saw no arms, nor even customers, not even a soul behind the register, only the cold glare of an overhead, rusty security camera that seemed to follow the farmboy wherever he wandered through the store, browsing through a few select shelves, Vibrotools, Droid-ware, Holo-edit chips, Moisture Vaporator parts.

Kneeling down, he peered deeper into a seemingly empty shelf by the ground, grunting lightly as he reached towards the back, almost blindly fumbling around before his fingers found purchase, a condenser unit, apparently the last one.

'Makes sense after that storm, I imagine a few farms are offline, we got lucky, can't be said for others.' He thought, dragging the unit back along the shelf, turning his gaze to find a foot resting just a few inches beneath his chin.

One foot, accompanied by another in thick, buckled-down tan boots, stood before the prone farmhand.

"I heard the Lars farm is going to have a good harvest next month." A voice spoke down to him.

Following the voice, his gaze trailed over the bulky boots, up to a pair of smooth, golden thighs, bulging out from under a tight pair of leather shorts, buckled down by a thigh holster on either side of the intrusive legs before him. One clutched to the meat as tight as it clutched the Blaster strapped within it, the other housing a small array of tools, spanners, screwdrivers, even a welding torch and goggles. His gaze kept rising, past the loose belt draped over an exposed mid-riff of curved, full abs stacked upon wide hips, the golden sheen spoiled by the shade of two bulging breasts hanging above them, the tight leather jacket and shorn vest barely containing their mass, as a mouthwatering pour of underboob seeped out beneath them, while above stared down a pair of mischievous blue eyes, joined by an almost teasing grin of a girl, crowned with two sapphire-ivory horns, her neck and shoulders obscured by the two bulging head-tails draping forward over them, one running away over her right shoulder, as the other rolled down over the front of her jacket, the tip sandwiched between the luscious breasts and poking out just beneath them.

That grin, however, spoke volumes more confidently than any part of her, as if to say, 'I know I look this good'.

"D- Dashlaa!" Luke stammered, quickly pushing himself to his feet, hands clutching the Condensor a fair bit tighter. He stood nearly a whole foot above her eye line, her horns overshadowing him by just an inch, forcing him to crane his neck slightly to look down at her. "I didn't see you behind the counter, thought may-"

"Thought maybe you'd just pinch the last condenser without saying hello to your favourite Scrapper?" She teased, resting a gloved hand upon her hip as it jutted to the side slightly, leaning herself against the shelves on an elbow. "Scared I'll bite you..." Her lips parted, flashing pearly white fangs beneath her lips, as white as the markings curved along her cheeks, nose, lips, eyes and head. "...again?"

"Scared?" Luke shifted slightly, thanking his tactical placement of the unit in his arms over his crotch as he felt his blood rushing and a twinge in his left shoulder from the memory of where she had left her last mark. "Scared's the wrong word for it Dash, but glad to see the taste of a Skywalker is still fresh on your mind." He steeled his nerves, adopting his own cocky grin and trying to mimic her lean. Hard to do when using both hands to conceal an erection.

"I'd rather it on my tongue Sky-Guy." She glanced down at the unit, pursing her lips slightly. "That'll be five Peggats." She leaned down to scoop the unit from his hand, tearing it from his grip, and to Luke's mercy, turned before she could see the bulge flop down under his hide trousers, walking to the counter, each thudding step of her boots, rippling the flesh of her thighs and jiggling the mass of her ass as she took it.

"What, no deals? No special offers for your favourite customer?" Luke called to her, quickly shifting his baggy shirt down to cover his crotch as the Togruta leaned over the counter, glancing back at him as the shorts grew tighter and tighter, almost slipping into the crevice of her ass, tight enough to expose just the edges of her sweet, juicy folds clamped between two bubbly hams.

"Here's a special offer Mr Skywalker..." She purred, dropping five golden coins into the register and pulling up the now boxed-up Condenser Unit. Luke's hand reached for his belt, finding his pouch unfastened, several coins missing. "...my mom isn't home, and my shift just ended."


Dashlaa's front door had barely hissed closed before she was upon him, lips clasped upon his own as her hands clawed at his shirt, unfastening the cloth belt that kept his own sculptured torso from her gaze. Her gloveless palm rested upon the crest of his pecs while the other dug down through his waistband, finding purchase upon his half-engorged cock, giving her a nice plump handful of the farmhand to toy with as their tongued battled in a dance of domination.

Luke's own hands were without shame, suffering a case of wild wandering as they immediately curled their fingers upon the plump ass that was spilling out of her shorts, sinking deep into the creamy alien flesh as he hoisted her up from the floor, slamming her back into the door of her room with a resounding clang. An enticed growl of approval conjoined with a warning nibble of her fangs upon his tongue, the kiss ended as Luke felt a sharp pull of his hair, Dash's fingers interwoven with it as she yanked it back, exposing his neck where she slowly ran her pierced tongue up against his Adams Apple.

"One of these days, I'm gonna have to let you win, Farmboy." She giggled as both her legs curled up and around his waist, her thick heavy boots thumping together as they locked behind him, then leaning back, she pushed upon his head, shoving his face down into her still-bound tits, smothering him in the Golden depths of her youthful milkers

Her gloating triumph was short-lived as she soon found herself falling, legs failing to keep their grip upon him as he shoved her down, backwards onto her bed, her arms suddenly yanked away and held by the wrists above her head, whilst Luke lay upon her grinning his own grin back upon her, idly grinding his bulging shaft against the wet patch forming on her shorts, and steadily drizzling down her thighs.

"One of these days, you'll remember you've never actually beaten me." He leaned down, running his own tongue against her cheek whilst his free hand clasped upon her throat, squeezing upon it tight enough to feel her breath hitch in her throat, the faint beat of blood rushing through her neck and under his fingers, faster and faster as she gazed up at him in the dim moonlight seeping through her window.

She tried to choke a response out but found the words slipping from her mind as he lowered his head, feeling the pressure of her vest melt away as he pulled it up over her breasts, finally freeing her studded teats to the cool night air of the desert, and treated them to a wet, tight suckle, the sensation tickling through her spine as she arched her back, pressing her abs up against his own, grinding a layer of sweat against his own as her hands tugged, and fought with his iron-clad grip to no avail. He had her right where she wanted him too. With her thighs squished down under his own, straddled to either side of her shoulders, boots hanging in the air.

The gushing drool of her tight yellow folds slathered out from her shorts as they grew tighter and tighter, slithering into the crack of her ass and cunt, wedging deep and grinding her through to her first orgasm of the night, still 'fully' clothed as her body shook, eyes rolled, and voice gurgled under the strangling grasp of Luke, who finally released her now swollen nipple from his lips with a loud 'POP', leaning up to gaze into her sightless eyes, drowned in the tears of a mind-rattling orgasm. "See, I always win." He hummed, leaning in to plant a kiss upon her nose, releasing both Dash's throat and her wrists, taking her stunned opportunity to finally free her of her jacket, and vest and, after a good tug of war, unwedging her soaked shorts from the vice-grip of her pussy, leaving her knee-length boots tightly bound, and joining her in nudity, as his tanned chiselled body hovered above her own. With a thick slap, his cock splashed down upon her glistening, sweaty folds, still teeming with warm Alien lube.

"Let's show this city girl how we plough a field." He teased, grasping upon the ankles of her boots and slowly pushing each of them back, tickling the leather soles against the sides of her horns as he folds her like a pretzel, hammering his hips down upon hers as he shoves all eight inches of his Bitch-Breaker into her slathering cunt, as she clamps upon him and lets out a hollering moan, stifled only by Luke's lips as he plants them against her, drinking in her lustful cries of bliss, as he begins pounding his hips against her own with rippling slaps cracking into the air of the room, and out into the air of Anchorhead, to any soul who might hear it passing by.

Her lips soon found themselves free once more as Luke sat upright, hugging her legs to his chest as he thrust forward upon his knees, the new angle bouncing her mighty chest up against her own chin with every pulverizing thrust against her as the tip of his dick battered and hammered its way against her cervix deep within.

"FUCK YES, YES, FUCKING PLOW THESE FIELDS, FARMBOY!" She cried out to him, one hand grasping upon her own breast, tugging at the small stud piercing her left nipple, whilst the other curled and twirled, pulling and squeezing, playing with her Lekku, licking and suckling upon the tips of her own head tails while she was fucked senselessly upon her bed. "MAKE THIS LITTLE ALIEN SLUT SQUEAL FOR HUMAN COCK!"

"Yeah, you like that thick farmer dick, you Xeno-whore?" Luke chided, his dirty talk needed work. He didn't much care for racism in the galaxy, he didn't understand it, being from a world so teeming with alien life and far from the Empire's control, but he knew Dashlaa enjoyed it.

'Why, did Dashlaa enjoy such degradation?' Was a thought that often perused his mind. Perhaps it was something she had just discovered one day. Perhaps she just got used to life as an Alien in the Empire and found she couldn't go without it.
Perhaps the Empire was right in their cruelty, and Aliens simply felt better beneath humanity.

He didn't care why. Dash loved it, and that's what mattered to him. He was more than happy to indulge in her fantasy.

He watched her eyes close as her pleas and demands were drowned out by his thoughts. Her movements seemed to slow before him, as did the ripples and jiggles of her body. He could see every droplet of sweat fly through the air as if in a trance. It always happened when he focused... or when he was close.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-..." Luke growled aloud as he released Dash's legs, letting them fall to the sides as he crawled forward, wrenching his cock from the Togrutan pussy just as she underwent her second climax, arcing a squirting stream of hot, steamy girlcum over their thighs and Lukes balls, quickly brought to her senses as she felt the grasp of her left horn and found her neck yanked upright. Her nose flooded with the scent of sweat, sex and her own juices as her lips spread, and she found herself slurping down the farmer's shaft. Luke didn't even need to thrust nor pull further upon her horn, even half dazed by a mind-splitting climax, Dashlaa was eager and ready to guzzle down some Skywalker cock, and with her disoriented gaze, half-lidded and crossed, gazing up at him, Luke was finally pushed over the edge as he growled out, unloading his salty surprised between her lips, flooding her mouth with a hose's worth of thick, creamy cum.

She tried to swallow it all, to no avail, choking and sputtering as it shot out her nose and drooled down her chin, splattering over her breasts as she continued bobbing her head upon the meat, purring like a kitten and moaning like a whore as she idly rubbed her own clit, closing her eyes fully and enjoying the taste.

"You always were a fan of this farmer's moisture Dash." Luke snickered, stroking a thumb over her cheek before his head shot up, turning towards Dash's open door.

He didn't know what suddenly alerted him, but he was on his feet, cock wrenched free from the still dizzy Togruta as he quickly pulled his pants and shoes on while Dashlaa slowly came to her senses, climbing down from her blissful high.

"Wha- what's wrong Luke, y-" And then they heard it, the telltale hiss of the front door opening, a sound that cut through Dash's delirium and quickly she was trying to redress herself, hide the bedsheets, and bustle luke out the window, all at the same time, all halfassed as Luke was shoved out shirtless with a dull thud.

He quickly raced away to his nearby Speeder, pulling the shirt on before he was spotted by any of the neighbours, and with a dull whine, the turbines started up, drowned out however, by the scream of a mother.

"DASHLAA TANO, WHAT IS ON YOUR FACE?!" Thundered through the air, and like the crack of lightning that should have preceded it, Luke tore off into the Dunes ahead and away from the Tano residence.