The Dark Side is a pathway to many abilities. Yvie understood that. She was at seven remotes now. She'd been at five before Nar Shaddaa. Now she was at seven, almost eight. Agenord was probably at ten.
This is a military operation. Cyr'rnin is in charge.
Yvie sliced through one of the remotes.
"Shit." She deactivated the remotes and got dressed. The slave outfit suited her, all but the best parts exposed. Stopping the slavers while wearing this would be... ironic. Appropriate. Fun. She could indulge herself and destroy evil at the same time. She examined the collar Tharan built for her, part tracker, part communicator, part stun grenade, and part light shoto of her own construction. She attached it to her neck. It would spark when activated, but it wouldn't hurt. She looked at herself in the reflection of a bulkhead. She looked the part. She smiled and removed the outfit, and looked at herself wearing only the collar. Stopping them like this would be yummy. She could decide later.
The comm beeped. That must be Sheriff Encot, Cyr'rnin, and Sergeant Dorne. Hmm. Sergeant Elara "My tits are bigger than yours" Dorne. Yvie put on the slave outfit again and grabbed Elara's outfit. Yvie had made both, but used a little less cloth for Elara's. The Sergeant was just there to be a distraction, anyway.
Yvie found them in the conference room with Tharan. He was explaining the modified slave collar to Sergeant Dorne. When they saw her, Tharan rolled his eyes, and Elara and Sheriff Encot stared in shock.
"Shit, Yvie!" Cyr'rnin said. "You're a Jedi. Show some respect for the station." Yvie shrugged.
"Master Jedi," the Sheriff said.
"Yvisnussiish."
"Yes. Master Jedi," he continued. "I had no idea you would... Well... We are asking too much. I understand that now."
"Don't be silly," Yvie said. "This is the best way in. No one will think the two of us are Republic infiltrators."
Elara said, "Am... am I to wear something... similar?"
"Of course," Yvie said.
Cyr'rnin said, "She's a Republic Trooper, not sex doll."
"We want them eager to buy us," Yvie countered.
Elara said, "I... I must... reluctantly concur." Yvie gave her the outfit. Elara stared at it and said, "For... for the Republic." She retired to the refresher, disrobed, and put on the costume. The bra, such as it was, was a chain attached to two cloth circles with metal edges and were barely enough to cover her nipples. The rough edges of the metal kept the circles in place but also dug into her skin. The loin piece had required a complete smoothing of the area and rested so low the fresh trim patch was visible. Master Yvie had shown a similar amount of skin but no patch. But, female Twi'lek were often naturally smooth. A metal edged triangle covered her parts and dug into the skin there. A chain around her waist held the triangle in place while another chain, wedged deeply between her cheeks, connected in the back. Two rectangles of cloth hung down front and back, so small they seemed a formality. Flat slippers completed the outfit. She emerged from the refresher bright red with embarrassment but ready to go. "Why does it grip so... firmly?"
"So nothing slides out of place," Yvie told her. "It's all local. It won't cut off circulation."
"It feels like it's biting into me." Elara attached Tharan's collar to her neck.
Yvie said, "You'll have some scratches. That's all. Mine does the same." She arched her back to demonstrate. "We just need our slave hunter. Qyzen?"
The Trandoshan appeared, distaste in his eyes. "My clan does not capture."
"You're fallen on hard times," Yvie told him. "And most of the slavers won't survive."
"We would prefer to capture them," Encot said.
"I doubt the people of Anchorhead would mourn them, but I will see what I can do."
"Thank you again, Master Jedi," Encot said. "We have a speeder waiting outside. We know some of the slaves go through a cantina outside of Anchorhead. We have an informant, a local criminal. He works out of the cantina occasionally. He lost a second-cousin to the slavers. No one knew of their connection. He told the Twin Suns buyer at the cantina that he met a Trandoshan with some merchandise to sell. Please be careful. That cantina is one of the worst. It is technically outside of my jurisdiction. That is why they can buy and sell slaves so freely."
"Don't worry," Yvie said. "We'll just be passing through. Elara, Qyzen, time to go."
The two women were curled up in the trunk of the speeder. Air cooling kept the worst of the heat away. Yvie relaxed as much as she could in the cramped space, while Elara sweated fear.
"What if it goes wrong, ma'am?" she whispered as if were afraid Qyzen would hear them.
"I have the Force to protect me," Yvie said.
Elara replied, "That's all good and well, but I don't. What if they can't rescue us?"
"Cyr'rnin would get you back," Yvie told her. "She's stubborn that way."
"Yes, I know, but-" She stopped when they felt the speeder slow down.
The speeder came to a stop, it's door opened and then closed, and Qyzen said, "Yodich, is that him?" Muffled voices followed. "In the back," Qyzen said.
"-thought you didn't like the slave trade," a voice said, approaching the trunk.
"Qyzen told me he had some prime merchandise," a different voice said. "Wanted to sell them quietly. Why was that again?"
"My clan doesn't capture," Qyzen said. "But I made an exception."
The second voice said, "I will set aside my morals for a finder's fee."
"Let's have a look," the first voice said.
Qyzen opened the trunk and pulled the women out like so much luggage. They dropped to the ground with a groan. "Stand!" Qyzen said and activated the collars. The two collars sprayed sparks, and the women cried out believable and stood up.
"Fuck. Me," a Rattataki said, probably the first voice.
"I gotta admit, Qyzen," a Zabrak said. "You delivered."
"Ladies," the Rattataki said. "I am Shenax. I will be buying you. Tell me, what skills do you have?"
"I'm a dancer," Yvie said. "Floor, table, pole. Trained by the best. I was to be delivered to a new Hutt, but I don't remember his name."
"It doesn't matter," Shenax said. "You," he said to Elara. "Do you dance?"
Elara froze in fear.
Yvie said, "She gives blowjobs."
Elara glared at her in shock and said, "Medical training! I have received considerable medical training."
Shenax said, "Why does she sound Imperial?"
"Captured officer," Qyzen said. "Lieutenant, I think."
Shenax whistled. "Her price just doubled. She must be a recent capture. I don't see any marks on her. Turn around," he told her, but she didn't move. Qyzen used the collar again, and Elara remembered to cry out and turn around. "No whip marks, no scars, shit, she hasn't even been raped yet. I know a lot of Hutts who'd love to turn an Imp into rancor chow." Elara paled. "I need to call this in. I'm not sure I have the funds to cover it." He looked at Yvie. "And I want to see this one dance. She's gotta be good to be paired with that one."
They followed Shenax into the cantina, and were met with applause by the patrons. Shenax activated a holoterminal, and soon a large human male appeared.
"Ryl here. Did the Trandoshan deliver?"
"See for yourself," Shenax said and turned the scanner on the women. Ryl whistled. "The human is a captured Imperial Lieutenant."
"Are you shitting me?" Ryl said. "Where did he get them? This has got to be a private collector."
Qyzen said, "He's not a threat anymore."
"That doesn't fix everything," Ryl said. "What does the Twi'lek do?"
"Dances," Shenax replied. "Or claims to."
"Does the Imp have papers or her uniform?" Ryl asked.
"Came like that," Shenax said.
"You, human."
"Elara, sir," she replied.
"Don't care. Show me your left wrist," Ryl told her. Elara nodded and showed him a vaccination scar on the inside of her left wrist. "Looks legit. Turn around." She complied. "No whip marks. She must be-" He snapped his fingers. "Dune Sea. The Republic just raided an Imperial base in the Dune Sea. No wonder she acts all nervous. She's had that collar less than a week. Step closer to the terminal." She stood next to the terminal, visibly uncomfortable. "Strip," he told her.
Elara's eyes snapped open. "Here?! Are you mad?" Qyzen activated the collar, and she screamed and fell to the ground. She grabbed the terminal for support and climbed to her feet. She sold the shaking a bit much, but he might think that she was hoping for sympathy.
"She's definitely fresh to the collar," Ryl said. "Let's try again, girl. I want to see what I'm buying. Don't worry. I won't sell you to someone who will kill you. You're too valuable for that. Once again, strip."
Elara looked at Qyzen for support but could read nothing from his features. As her owner, he would stop any direct assaults, but he would do nothing here. She removed her slippers, as if he would care. Her eyes scanned the room of Tatooine's worst. Gangsters, assassins, criminals of every sort. Many of them had moved closer, but none of them were closer than the reach of Qyzen's arm. Master Yvisnussiish couldn't mind trick all of them. Elara undid the clasps holding the bra in place, and the circles of cloth fell away, exposing her nipples. The crowd applauded. She reached for the clasp to the lower part of the costume and began to cry. "Please, master. Not... not here." She didn't need any acting to sound believable.
"You've got to get used to it sometime," he told her. "Or do you want help?"
"I can help," Yvie said. Elara turned toward her, grateful and expectant. "Relax," Yvie said. Elara began to relax. Yvie cupped Elara's cheek. "Relax." How was this helping? Elara wondered. Yvie kissed Elara's cheek and whispered, "Regulations." Regulations? Which one? She struggled to remember. "Regulations say you must strip." Elara nodded and began to remove her clothing.
Elara stood in a locker room. Her back was to a line of lockers, and Master Yvisnussiish was kissing her, one hand on Elara's waist, the other on her breast. "Forgotten," Yvie said between kisses. "It's all gone now."
"What?" Elara asked.
"We're done," Yvie said.
"Done?" Elara said. What the devil was that taste in her mouth?
"You did well," Yvie said.
Elara nodded and looked around and finally realized she was naked. She immediately covered herself. "What... what happened to our costumes?" Master Yvisnussiish was just as naked. Even their slippers were gone.
"We lost them at the cantina," Yvie said. "You needed help. To be convincing."
"I thought... I thought you were going to stop them."
Yvie shrugged. "We were undercover." Elara stared at her in shock. "I was naked too. I did two sets on the pole before their driver showed up. Worth it, though. You wouldn't believe what Qyzen got for us."
"What was I doing?"
"Serving drinks," Yvie said. "Mostly."
"Where are we?"
"The slavers' base."
"Where are the slavers?"
"Dead," Yvie said. "We finished them off a while ago."
"Like... this?!"
"Yeah. Not as much fun as I thought," Yvie said.
"Fun?! You can't possibly mean-!" She couldn't finish the thought.
"Here's a clean jumpsuit," Yvie told her. "Sheriff Encot and his men are here with Cyr'rnin."
"You mean 'on their way'."
"No," Yvie said. "We gave them a report, and we came back here."
"Ma'am!" Elara said. "I must protest! This was not-!"
Yvie kissed her again. "You're fine with it. Relax. You're fine with it. Put on the jumpsuit, and we'll go." Elara's eyes softened.
"Do you have proof?" Master Satele said from the holoterminal.
Cyr'rnin said, "No, ma'am, I don't. Yvie's always been an exhibitionist, but she's never shared it. Sergeant Dorne doesn't remember much. The slaves were too far away from the fighting. Then there's the engineers. Five women working for the slavers. They built the collars and maintained the gear. Some of the slaves were gangsters, thugs, violent criminals. The slavers kept them isolated. Somehow, those five women, all of them, were right next to the isolated slaves when the collars were deactivated."
"Do I want to know what happened to them?" Satele asked.
Cyr'rnin said, "None of them are dead. All of them are in the hospital. I wouldn't mention any of this to you, but I have an obligation to the people under my command."
"I understand," Master Satele replied. "I believe the battle with Lord Vivicar has taken a heavier toll on Master Yvisnussiish than the Council realized. Don't worry, Lieutenant, we will do our best to help your cousin."
"Thank you, ma'am," Cyr'rnin said. "Lieutenant Onoka out."
