AN: You guessed, another challenge prompt :)
This one was 'aphrodisiac leeches'. So I put them in the garbage masher of the Death Star.
Chewie Unleeched
The gaping hole the blaster shot created was surprisingly large. Chewie edged closer to it, still returning fire.
By the Fanged One, he swore to himself, the smell was as thick as the smoke!
He looked at the one who stirred the sand, the one who had gotten all excited about the presence of the White One, whom he had dragged out of a prisoner cell. The youth was now looking very worried and a little sick.
Not from the stench, Chewie figured. Because he was only just realizing that heroes died.
Ah, youth, Chewie thought. He forgave the Sand Stirrer and would remember to be amused by him. Later. And he would tell him, yes, heroes died, but he was with the Smuggler of Hearts and that one wasn't a hero, at least not yet.
The White One was assessing her handiwork. She looked grim and not enthused, but at least she followed through. In a flash of white and with a scornful reminder at their predicament, she jumped through the hole.
Sand Stirrer's mouth gaped, and Smuggler looked over his shoulder quickly.
*She jumped,* Chewie informed him. Sand Stirrer didn't seem to comprehend, either Chewie's language or the actions of the White One.
Chewie waited. He could see the White One was splashing in the liquid down below. Smuggler was bound to do something. He always did. Rarely the most sensible of options, but desperation was seldom logical. To charge the stormtroopers seemed their best option. The smoke and the poor aim of the enemy was on their side. The two humans should get out of that armor, though. It was too bright.
"Get in!" Smuggler ordered, surprising Chewie.
*I don't want to,* he whined. *I smell leeches.*
"I don't care what you smell!" Smuggler lifted a foot and tried to kick Chewie into the hole.
In the short time that he had before Smuggler's boot made contact with his rear, Chewie planned his landing into the garbage. His heavy weight sank him deep into a hard pile of metal- he'd have a bruise- but being wet ranked just below being dead, so Chewie took it in stride.
There was a hatch! As gracefully as he could, he hopped onto islands of trash across the space, pushing Sand Stirrer, who had joined them, off a heap and into the sludge, and didn't bother apologizing.
It wouldn't open. Of course. Desperation was also never easy.
Smuggler had a bad landing. *Look before you leap,* Chewie advised belatedly. Sand Stirrer was standing in the liquid, and peering wildly around his feet. The White One was frantically trying to climb to higher ground.
Must be a lot of leeches, then, if the humans spotted them so easily.
"There's something alive in here," Sand Stirrer announced.
*Leeches,* Chewie told their unlinguistic ears. *Don't let them bite you.*
Something popped up out of the sludge. By the looks of it, a dianaga. And sure enough, the large eye had a few leeches dangling from it.
Chewie hooted a warning, but it was too late. Sand Stirrer disappeared under the brown liquid.
*Oh no!* Chewie shouted. *He will start a mating frenzy!*
"What?!" Smuggler was moving sludge aside. "Luke!" he called, Sand Stirrer's personal label.
*Human blood is an aphrodisiac to leeches.*
"Shut up!" Smuggler snapped. He was wrestling with the dianaga for Sand Stirrer's body.
A loud metallic thunk sounded, and the dianaga swam away. *Take your leeches with you!* Chewie pounded at the hatch.
"The walls are moving!" Sand Stirrer exclaimed.
The liquid sloshed, and the White One sought Smuggler's help to climb out of reach of the leeches. It was ridiculous how quickly the taste of human blood worked its chemical magic.
*They are so passionate they might jam the tracks,* Chewie hooted hopefully while he pushed on the wall.
Smuggler had actually taken the White One's suggestion and was trying to brace the wall, but he took the time to shoot Chewie a dirty look. "We're gonna be a lot thinner," he said.
It wasn't strength that saved them, or desperation, but Sand Stirrer's two droids waiting elsewhere on the trash-making battle station. They all craned their necks upward at the wall they would have to scale. Fortunately, the garbage was also compressed into a nice stack, and escaping wasn't as hard as Chewie thought it would be.
Once they were outside the garbage masher, the drip of liquid from Chewie's fur was the only noise. It was strangely quiet.
*Strip,* Chewie gestured at Sand Stirrer.
"What?" Sand Stirrer looked at Smuggler.
"He's been rambling about leeches," Smuggler answered.
Chewie reached under some fur by his ankle and plucked a leech off. He inspected it. This type was shorter than the kind in the creeks of Kasshyyk, and not as pretty either. But its sucker end was easily recognizable. Chewie popped it in his mouth and chewed.
"Ew!" Sand Stirrer recoiled. "Did you see what he-"
"Maybe we should take a moment and check ourselves," the White One suggested. "Leeches leave a blood trail, don't they?"
Sand Stirrer was removing his armor. "This is so disgusting," he griped.
"You went under with no helmet," the White One said to him.
"This is the stuff of nightmares," Sand Stirrer complained. "Can I get him to groom me?" he asked Smuggler of Chewie.
"Or rip your arms out, I don't care which," Smuggler dismissed.
"Aren't you worried about leeches?" Sand Stirrer asked.
"I didn't go under," Smuggler said proudly. "And there's no seam break in the leg part."
"Oh gods, I have one," the White One groaned. She plucked it off her lower leg and threw it in down the hall. Chewie chased it.
"Do I have anymore?" the White One lifted the hem of her gown above her knees and asked the room at large.
Smuggler, the only one not doing anything at the moment, said "Just stand there and I'll pat you down," he offered.
"It's bad enough to have your eyes on me," the White One said.
Smuggler shrugged out of his own armor. "Suit yourself. At least I won't have love-crazed leeches following me."
"I think I'm good," Sand Stirrer said. "I found three. Now what?"
*I need to sit down,* Chewie told Smuggler. He moved away where he might find a private spot to enjoy a leech meal.
"Chewie! Come back here," Smuggler called.
Though he could feel a few leeches starting to burrow into his palm, Chewie guarded them protectively. He shook his head at Smuggler.
"I said, come here, you big coward!"
Chewie stuffed them into his mouth.
"Oh, for-" Smuggler cursed and shot at the wall with his blaster.
"They'll hear you!" the White One tried to stop him. She placed herself in charge and moved off like she didn't care if anyone followed her. She even called Chewie a Walking Carpet!
*That's a great name for me,* Chewie gushed to Smuggler. *Why didn't you think of that?*
"Because you said your name was Chewbacca." Smuggler followed dazedly in the wake of the White One. It wasn't leeches that had hurt his feelings.
There was no way they'd go undiscovered for long. Desperation followed them, as silent as a leech bite, but Smuggler had years of practice and some pride to redeem. He chased the stormtroopers, bellowing at the top of his lungs in his native language.
"What's he saying?" Sand Stirrer asked.
*That he's deadlier than a leech,* Chewie translated.
"He certainly has courage," he heard the White One say as he dashed after him.
Smuggler would like this name, Courageous Flyboy. Maybe he would like it better than Smuggler.