#like hutt dancers

[looseleafteeaves]

Oritemi Saves the Forgotten

(Note, Kikɔpelim is a servant of the evil spirit of the masters/slave owners "patron". The Me'eri believe him to be the source of greed and evil.)

Gather and listen, young ones. For we seek the light and the water, and this story will show you the way.

Oritemi, remembering the task assigned to them by Pelsi, raced across the surface of Mivena. As they did this, they came across a mountain steeped in the greed of the Kikɔpelim who resided at the peak.

This Kikɔpelim was strange- not only was there the Me'eri trapped underneath, but there were a handful of Me'eri forced to dance and follow him about at all times. So, Oritemi disguised themself as one of these dancers and followed unnoticed by the Kikɔpelim.

"Young Me'eri, why do you dance for him?" The strange Me'eri did not seem to notice Oritemi speaking. This troubled them, and they came closer. The dancers seemed to be lost in a fog of confusion, unable to respond or speak to one another.

Oritemi's concern grew greater, and they fled from that place. Oritemi flew, running feet passing over the compound and darting through any crack they could find, untill they found the Dive that always led to the Me'eri. Oritemi didn't even pause as they dove into the deep dark hole that had gobbled so many of Mivena's people.

They whistled, a tune like note as they fell, darting into one of the branching tunnels that led to the Me'eri's home.

"Oh tunnel-bound Me'eri! I have brought to you seeds and stories as Pelsi bids!"

Immediately, the Me'eri began to step outwards, gathering in the rough stone hall. Oritemi passed around seeds and laughed as they mentioned that Lotarima and Korevian had danced together in the sky once again.

As Oritemi finished dispersing what they had brought, they grew quiet. They pondered what they had seen and finally, as the Storyteller approached, asked the burning question.

"Storyteller, who are the Me'eri trapped with the Kikɔpelim on the surface? Why do they not flee towards the light? Why do they not hear me speak?"

Storyteller, wise beyond her few years, sighed gently. "Oh, Oritemi. I am so sorry you must learn the hardest lesson from me. Those Me'eri are the Forgotten. The most beautiful of us- when the Kikɔpelim come and examine everyone, are taken. They are stolen from us, and we are powerless to stop them. We watch, as before our very eyes, they are forced to forget everything. Who they are. Who we are. Our language. Our beliefs. They are drowned by the Kikɔpelim inside their souls, and so far, we have been unable to save a single one."

Oritemi is shocked, and horrified by this. "Storyteller, how can I help the forgotten? They do not seem to know me when I walk amongst their midst, or to understand me when I speak. I was so bold, trying to speak with them, that I danced before Kikɔpelim!"

Storyteller, tawny eyes sad, looked at them. "Temi, They are kept from any memories. The Kikɔpelim erase them often until the Forgotten is no longer beautiful. Then they send them to a new mine, never the one they came from, because if they remember the secrets of the Kikɔpelim, the Me'eri could destroy them. We help the Forgotten who are given to us. It is all we may do."

Oritemi accepted this, heart hurting. They danced back up the tunnels and located the Pekolo. They took the form of a mine bird and flitted into the branches to think.

"How can I help the Forgotten? For surely, even if Mama, Mapa, and Papa have forgotten them, I can do something." And so Oritemi looked around. Suddenly, they save a small chip of stone, with a hole perfect for string to hang around.

Oritemi blinked and grinned, alighting on the ground in human form.

"They have forgotten themselves," they thought. "They need something that will give them at least that. " And so, Oritemi began to carve.

Four lines capped with swirls traced the diamond stone. It surrounded a place perfectly spaced to carve a name.

"I cannot do much. But I can show them the way." Oritemi said to themself. "I can show them how to find themself."

And in a flash, Oritemi flew to Storyteller.

"Sister, I need to know a name I can share to one of the Forgotten! I am small, and tricky and all I can offer is a path forwards to find themselves."

Storyteller, face aging backwards with her grin, leaned forwards. "Oritemi, I name you the Namekeeper. Find one whom to you looks like they are named for the night flowers, Nem'ir. Give them the Name Stone, and watch them discover the path."

Namekeeper, Oritemi, grasped the carved stone and leaped for the light. They flew through the fortress, until they came upon the most beautiful of the Forgotten who resided there.

"Nem'ir, Ne'mir, I name thee Nem'ir! Dance in the suns and run by the moons, Nem'ir I shall always follow you!"

The beautiful Forgotten still did not seem to hear them. Oritemi alighted in front of him, holding the Name Stone dangling from their beak. They hopped forwards, as the Forgotten stared at them.

Oritemi repeated the hopping twice more before the Forgotten curiously reached a hand out.

Oritemi dropped the name stone in his hand, chirped "Nem'ir, Nem'ir, I name thee Nem'ir! Dance in the suns and run by the moons, Nem'ir I shall always follow you!" Before flying off.

The newly named Nem'ir held the stone before he seemed to blink into awareness.

"Nem'ir... I am... Nem'ir?"

With a sigh, Oritemi should have know the path didn't appear instantly, they watched him put the necklace on.

So this remained for several days. Oritemi began to lose hope when Nem'ir suddenly sang a little song to themself.

"Oritemi temi, Oritemi temi Sunrise and Moonfall, dance the paths and wander the ways, I will follow you."

And Oritemi laughed and ran past Kikɔpelim, who cursed and called for gaurds for Kikɔpelim would never drown Nem'ir again.

They named the nameless, and remembered the Forgotten.

The Namekeeper remembers them all.

I have shown you the light and the way, now go.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Twin Suns

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, breakup / makeup, suggestive themes, canon-typical swearing, mando’a

Word Count: 1.4k

You broke it off, but Boba isn’t finished.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // summer 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart

Hookah smoke hangs low in the air. The cantina is dim and the noise inside is a dull, persistent roar. Behind the bar, you clean glasses, gaze watching the room for thirsty customers. To the right of the bar is a small stage where a band plays music. It’s loud enough to drown out most of the conversations in the room but not enough to silence them.

It’s a stark difference from your previous work. Being a dancer in Jabba’s Palace brought you protection and money, but it also brought admirers. Most of them kept their distance due to Jabba’s presence, yet there was one you gravitated toward.

One you often snuck away with. One you gave your heart to.

Jabba the Hutt’s favorite contract killer, Boba Fett, ate you up like a Sarlacc. He slipped into your life and you gladly opened for him.

But all of that is gone. You left, and here you are, working away in a Mos Espa cantina, scrounging up enough credits to leave Tatooine behind you. It’s certainly not the life you want for yourself, but the best thing now is to earn enough to start fresh elsewhere.

Setting the glass in its proper spot, you turn, reaching for another. It draws your attention away from the bar, and when you glance up again, the glassware nearly slips from your hand.

A Mandalorian helmet with cracked and peeling green paint stares back. The rest of the armor is much of the same. It’s worn but no less intimidating. Boba Fett stands casually while the people next to him at the bar quickly grab their drinks and makes themselves scarce.

“I’ve been looking for you.” His familiar gravelly voice comes through the voice receiver, and it plunges directly into your heart.

“What makes you think I wanted to be looked for?” you reply, unease slipping into your tone.

You don’t hate Boba—far from it. Deep within your soul, you still care for him. When you’re alone in the dark, you often find yourself thinking of his touch and the way his lips felt against your skin.

But you ran away from everything for a reason. And still, this man came after you.

“You’ve always loved a chase, cyar’ika,” he answers with a gentle tease.

Memories resurface suddenly and without warning. Jabba’s smoky throne room where you’d dance for his guests. The saunter of Boba’s hips when he’d walk into the room and head right for you. The first time Boba touched you far from the eyes of Jabba and his cronies.

Boba chased you until you folded, placing yourself in his arms.

You swallow back a sharp retort, putting on your professional face, changing the subject. “Can I get you anything? A drink? Food?”

Boba’s helmeted head tilts slightly. “I want one thing.”

“I’m not on offer,” you reply immediately.

“Then can I have a few minutes of your time,” he counters. “Alone.”

Kriffing hell.

You glance over your shoulder at the other bartender. She nods subtly and you set down the glass and polishing towel.

“Come with me,” you murmur.

Boba pushes off from the bar and follows you. The two of you slip behind a curtain, entering a kitchen space. The three droid cooks don’t even acknowledge your presence. Stopping at some spiral stairs, you turn back toward Boba. He’s directly behind you, blocking your escape, gloved hands on either side of the railing.

“This way,” you breathe, ascending the stairs as quickly as possible.

You feel him at your back, his body so close you swear you can sense his heat. The stairs spit the two of you out on a little landing. Up here is mostly storage, and it’s a mess. The owner of the cantina insists he’ll clean it up but he’s never here enough to actually care or do anything about it.

As soon are your feet land on flat flooring, you beeline for the large window on the other side of the room. The twin suns are starting to descend, the evening coming quick, but still fending off the cold dark.

Staring out across Mos Espa is easier than looking at Boba directly.

“What do you want to talk about?” you speak to the window. In the glass, you notice Boba’s reflection. He’s moving toward you—a slow saunter.

Even though you cannot see him directly, you know he’s right there next to your left shoulder. Your chest is tight, stomach twisting, and your skin tingles with awareness. Beskar brushes against your arm, and then Boba’s gloved hand slips into your own.

You do not pull away. He is warm, and so close it aches.

“You were mine,” he says, and the possessiveness in his voice draws forth a shiver.

It’s a reminder of all the times the two of you were alone in bed together, with him buried between your legs, tangled up in white sheets while the rest of Tatooine slept. With every roll of his hips, and every languid kiss, he’d call you cyar’ika and whisper mine.

“I was,” you murmur. “Not anymore.”

Boba tugs on your hand. It’s a gentle pull but it forces you to turn into him. Boba is right there, head tilted toward your face as if to kiss you. His other hand comes up and rests against the side of your throat.

“You left without talking to me.” His grip tightens and your free hand reflexively rises, pressing against his beskar chestplate.

You lick your lips. “I needed to go. It wasn’t safe for me.”

Boba draws you close, foreheads nearly touching. “Did you not feel safe with me? Something I did?”

You shake your head. “No.” You glance into the T-shaped visor, only wanting to see those dark eyes again. “Can you remove your helmet?”

Boba drops his hand from your throat. Reaching up, he disengages the seal, and then the helmet is gone. Your eyes track tanned skin and dark eyes. Your hand on his chestplate ascends, fingertips brushing against the stubble on his chin and jaw.

Boba turns his head just as you’re about to run your fingers over his cheeks. You caress his lips instead, and they part slightly in invitation. It’s hard to resist, but you do.

Dropping your hand away, you look down at his chestplate.

“Being with you put a target on my back.”

“No one knew about us,” murmurs Boba. “And I would have handled it.”

You glance up. “Would you? I was under Jabba’s employ. I don’t think he’d appreciate one of his dancers fornicating with his prized bounty hunter.”

Boba grimaces. “You were an employee. Not one of his slaves.”

“That doesn’t matter to Jabba,” you insist. “Remember the guy who slapped my ass? Jabba took his kriffing hand. I don’t even want to think about what Jabba would do to you had he found out about us.”

“And you think you’re safe here?” Boba indicates the cantina with an outstretched hand.

“Bib Fortuna said I was clear. It’s the other bounty hunters I’m worried about. Your competition.”

Boba scoffs. “I’d vaporize them before they even tried to put their hands on you.”

You pull your hand from his and raise them up before you. “You can’t protect me, Boba. And I don’t want to burden you.”

Boba steps into your space, trapping you against the window. “But you still love me.”

“I never said I didn’t,” you reply softly.

With a low groan, Boba grasps the back of your neck and draws you in. His mouth crashes against yours, the two of you meeting again and again until you start to melt, wrapping your arms behind his neck, wanting him even closer.

“Why did you run?” he asks between kisses. You seek another but Boba’s grip on the back of your neck halts all forward movement. “We could have talked about this. You didn’t need to flee.”

“It was easier,” you breathe.

He shakes his head. “You’re leaving this place.”

“Boba,” you breathe.

“Hush,” he coos. “I’m taking you with me.”

“And go where?” you shrug.

“Somewhere safe,” he says softly. “We’ll go on my ship. And I’ll take you far from here.”

“But you can’t tell me where?”

Boba sighs. “I have a place I go to when I want to get away. I’ll take you there.”

“Jabba doesn’t need you?”

“If he needs me, Bib Fortuna will call. That’s how it’s always worked.”

You glance out the window. The suns have lowered, the sky a purplish-red. “When do you want to go?”

Boba draws you back to him, pressing a lovely kiss to your lips. “Right now.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @foxxy-126 @km-ffluv

@sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@tulipsun-flower @enfppuff @ninman82 @nomercyforthewarrior @padawancat97

@garfunklevibes2012 @pigeonmama @beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu

[master-jarrus]

Ninjago Star Wars Au species list

I will not debate anyone over these

Starting up:

Jay, half human, half twi'lek, his mother is the twi'lek. When he was born he was shipped to the Huts on Tatooine but his little carriage pod dropped and was picked up by Jawas. He has mechanical wings he made himself and specializes in marketing for the Jawas because he's adorable

Force sensitive

Ed and Edna: Jawas who find Jay are the main ones who raise him but I'm fairly certain jawas take the whole village approach.

Cole: Togurta. Togurta's are very strong and agile but people always seem surprised when they actually show case their strength. This seemed very fitting for Cole.

Force sensitive

Kai and Nya: human nautolan hybrids but it has been so long since the nautolan was introduced they don't have many traits other than large dark eyes and Nya is able to breathe under water. (They don't know its nautolan, which is kit fistos species for those who don't know)

Force sensitive

Nya is stronger in the force but she uses chants to help her focus (like the og dathomirian witches)

Zane: zane is a kyber crystal powering a droid. He more specifically the crystal then the body because kyber crystals are sentient

Force sensitive

Pixal: same deal as zane but her crystal faced torture (from the mining process) zane heals her later but she still struggles (fun fact ahsoka's kyber crystals were corrupted and tortured but she rescued and healed them and that is why they are white)

Force sensitive can only manipulate it through the dark side

Garmadon and Wu: Diathim (also referred to as angels) and part zabrak (i went back and forth on that because beskalisks have four arms but then I drew it and just fit well for them) angels are considered the most beautiful creatures while zebraks tend to be considered evil. Both are capable of good and evil.

Very force sensitive

Garmadon isn't strictly a sith. More of just acts as he sees is needed. He does tend to use the dark side a lot though

Garmadon is missing his lower wings and has mutated arms with cyber supports

Misako: Chiss, intellectual tend to try to logic their emotions away (think a blue spock) the Diathim have prophecies. She wanted to study them. She and Garmadon fall in love

Lloyd: Diathim, zabrak and chiss. Very tall. Blue skin, red eyes, has all of his wings but also has a set of lower arms that do not have cyber supports.

Force sensitive, just dripping midiclorians to the point he boosts the sensitivity of those he is around

Struggles with acting in anger and will accidentally hurt his lightsabers original kyber crystals that he will wear on a necklace and pours into whenever he meditates

Rei: human, mandalorian black smith

Force sensitive

Maya: human nautolan hybrid also unaware of the nautolan she just thinks it's the force she is trained like the og dathomirian witches

Force sensitive

Lily: Togruta

Force sensitive

Lou: Togruta dancer and singer, gets paid for it

Harumi: human, not force sensitive but will later inject midiclorians to try be able to use the force and will become dependent on them

Cyrus: human, tries to create kyber crystal droids like zane but the mining process corrupted all of them including the prosthetics he tried to make that were powered by crystals. He chooses to be wheel chair bound after the incident but he is ambulatory with regular prosthetics he just finds it exhausting

Morro: zabrak, becomes a malevolent ghost but will later settle down into a regular force ghost who follows wu around

Force sensitive

Serpentine: sub species of hutt. Made them native to dathomir and the moons

Let me know who else you want to know

You will for sure get art of Garmadon. We will see about the others

[redskull199987]

Of Thoughts and Actions

Jaskier x fem!reader  word count:0.9k Warnings:spoilers for season 3, apart from that just fluff Summary: You didn't see your friend Jaskier for a long time, since he split up from your group after the events at Kaer Morhen. So, when Geralt suggested that you ask the bard for help, you were more than happy to see your singing friend again… Masterlist

You watched the scene in front of you unfold with a smile on your face. Jaskier´s sweet voice was slowly lulling Ciri to sleep, after you had spent the evening playing cards against each other. Jaskier, of course, had lost all of his money to the young girl. Finally seeing her smiling again, having fun again, after all she's been through lately, made you feel like it was still worth fighting for. For Ciri, and her future. “What are you thinking about?”

Your head shot up, as Jaskier suddenly stood in front of you, his slender frame towering above you. “Just thinking about our journey so far”, You mumbled, as you slowly stood up, starting to gather the plates at cups from the small table you had been playing cards at, until a few minutes ago. “Anything in particular?”, Jaskier smiled, as he helped you clean up, picking up a plate. “Oh, maybe the one time, Geralt and I saved your ass?”, you chuckled, playfully hitting his arm. Jaskier mockingly opened his mouth, acting like he was utterly shocked by your words.

“Fine then”, he mumbled, stepping closer to me,”Remember when I taught you how to dance, that one particular evening where you had too much ale?”

You felt your cheeks redden, as you remembered how much of a fool you had made yourself. even Geralt had laughed at your sloppy dance moves, and Geralt never laughed, ever.

Jaskier had seemed to notice your discomfort and slowly stepped closer. He looked down at you for a second, before carefully grabbing your hands. “You know, I always thought you were the most beautiful Dancer, I had ever seen in my life.”, he smiled, causing you to blush even more. Since when were you so easily flushed? You were a great fighter, that had been through many battles along with your companions. But  now you were a blushing mess in front of the smiling bard. When you didn't say anything in return, Jaskier just continued to recount the story:”Not because you were the best at dancing or the most experienced, but because you enjoyed yourself. You were having fun to no end, just being yourself. That's what I´ve always loved about you, Y/N.” You were speechless at this point. You always knew that what you felt for Jaskier was different than what you felt for Yennefer or Geralt. It was more than friendship. But you never believed that he was feeling the same way, in fact you still didn't believe it. 

Against all your better judgement, you slowly pulled your hands away from Jaskier and excused yourself, saying that you needed some fresh air. And within seconds, you had left the small hut, stepping out into the night. 

Taking in a deep breath, you looked up admiring the stars that glistened in the sky. Upon seeing your breath come out in small huffs, you realised how cold it was. You slowly started walking around a bit to conjure some warmth, but it had no effort. After two laps around the hutt, you were still shivering. You debated going back inside for a second, but you didn't quite know if you were ready to talk to Jaskier again. 

The decision was made for you, as you felt how Jaskier´s coat was being wrapped around you. The purple material easily engulfed your form, preventing you from shivering. You turned your head to see said bard standing behind you, one of his hands was resting on the small of your back, as he wrapped the coat further around your form. “Thank you.”, you mumbled, looking back down. “You seemed cold”, he smiled, now stepping in front of you. His hands came up to adjust the collar around you. You felt his touch linger, as his bright eyes shifted towards your face. “Y/N”, he suddenly said. His hand rose to gently caress your cheek. Slowly leaning into his touch, you listened to his shallow breathing to calm yourself down.

“Jaskier.”, you finally said, looking up at him. He only sighed, seemingly not really knowing what to say:”I-I havent been honest with you,Y/N” “About what?”, you uttered quietly. He didn't say anything for a second, just staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I really want to kiss you.”, he suddenly blurted out. You only smiled at him:”then do it.”

It only took Jaskier mere seconds to press his lips to yours. You felt his hands pulling you closer by the waist, as he deepened the kiss, his lips softly working against yours. Only as you parted, you actually realised what had just happened. Yours eyes widened, as you looked at his dreamy face. “I've wanted to do that for ages”, he admitted. A smile crossed your lips at his words:”I´m glad that you finally did.” “Oh I could kiss you again a thousand times, my love”, he chuckled, slightly squeezing your waist. “I wouldn't have a problem with that”, you whispered, before connecting your lips with his once more. Bonus: Ciri´s eyes slowly fluttered open, as the soft sunlight hit her face. Upon sitting up in her bed, she started to look around the room in search for her two friends. She expected them to be in their separate beds, still sleeping but Ciri couldn't help but to smile at what she saw in front of her. Right there, just a few metres away from her, you and Jaskier were huddled up together in the tiny bed. She could barely see your smaller form, as Jaskier was laying on top of you, his head resting on your chest. “I knew it”, she mumbled to herself, before slowly getting up to get ready for the day.

[sithfox]

can i hear about "of course you have my body but now you have my soul" and/or "the crown hangs heavy on either side" 👀

of course!

the crown hangs heavy is my Separatist!Clones/Sith!Quinlan AU. Dooku takes a different approach to starting the war - instead of getting the corporations and conglomerates on his side, he focuses on wealthy mid-rim planets that feel neglected. Fox is Commander of the Serennian Guard, aka Dooku's personal security team, which puts him in very close contact with Quinlan, who is undercover and trying to figure out if Dooku has ulterior motives. This snippet is from a scene where Fox has just witnessed Quinlan dispatch an assassin with his bare hands:

"Would you like to spar sometime, sir?” Fox works hard to keep his voice even. “It would be an honor to try myself against you.”

General Vos’ eyes drag down Fox’s body as a slow smirk spreads over his features. “It would be my pleasure, Commander.” He just about purrs Fox’s title, and in that moment Fox knows he’s fucked.

of course you have my body started as a few snippets for August of Whump and rapidly expanded into an omegaverse Sith/Mandalorian Empires romance novel. We're going full harlequin with this one, y'all. I'm having a lot of fun digging into the worldbuilding aspect of the omegaverse and how the different empires would view Alphas vs Betas vs Omegas, which I think is a surprise to absolutely no one lol. This snippet is from Aayla and Fox's first meeting.

"No, I haven't. I—I'm still settling in to my place here," Fox says delicately. "I don't want to overreach."

Aayla smiles, sharp. "Then I'll ask for you. Quin's a sucker for sisters—I'm his, despite the difference in species."

Fox deliberates for a moment. "How did you meet? If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh, Tyrannus was meeting with some low-level Hutt over a violation of the Empire's borders, and he brought Quin along as a learning experience. I was a slave there, barely two years old and already in training to be a dancer—I was a curiosity, you see, as a female alpha, and twi'lek culture does not allow for female alphas or male omegas in polite society." Fox sucks in a breath—he knew slavery was common among the Hutt's empire, but to hear it spoken of so cavalierly was uncomfortable. "It's one of my first memories—meeting Quin's eyes and knowing he would be my friend, my brother. He asked the Hutt for me, they said no, and he got a bit upset. Tyrannus said to deal with it as he saw fit.

"Eleven years old, and he slaughtered them. Blood everywhere, Fox, it was beautiful—" The Twi'lek's eyes gleam in the low light. "And then he knelt down and offered me a home. I'd follow him to hell if he asked."

[jadegretz]

Oola: Dance of the Twin Suns by Jade Gretz

The oppressive heat of Tatooine hung heavy in the air, a thick, suffocating blanket that seemed to seep into Oola's very bones. Dressed in a flimsy, shimmering garment that did little to shield her from the relentless sun, she stood amidst a throng of Twi'lek dancers, their vibrant lekku drooping with suppressed despair.

Oola wasn't like the others. Though forced to perform for Jabba the Hutt's court, she refused to surrender her spirit. Her movements, while graceful, held a hidden defiance. Her eyes, the color of twilight skies on her homeworld Ryloth, sparkled with a rebellious glint that Jabba, in his gluttonous indifference, failed to notice.

The palace reeked of a potent mix of exotic spices, stale food, and the musky stench of Jabba himself. Dancers, musicians, and assorted alien creatures performed for the Hutt's amusement, their acts a desperate bid for survival. Oola loathed every moment of it, the forced smiles, the suggestive gestures, the way her body was treated as a mere object of Jabba's perverse entertainment.

But Oola was a survivor. On Ryloth, she had witnessed the brutality of the Twi'lek slavers firsthand. She knew the horrors that awaited those who defied their captors. Yet, her defiance wasn't a reckless rebellion; it was a subtle resistance, a flicker of hope in the face of utter despair.

The music, a discordant symphony of alien instruments, blared to a crescendo. The dancers, adorned in revealing garments that left little to the imagination, gyrated suggestively around Jabba's dais. Oola, however, moved differently. Her movements were elegant, precise, a story woven with her body instead of blatant sexuality.

She incorporated subtle gestures from Ryloth's traditional dances – a hand gesture signifying freedom, a twist of the lekku that symbolized defiance. It was a language only a handful would understand, a silent rebellion against her captors.

One of Jabba's guards, a hulking Rodian named Snaggletooth, noticed the subtle change in Oola's performance. He leaned towards Bib Fortuna, Jabba's majordomo, and snarled, "Look at the blue …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)

[nicolabarth]

Can I know more about the Pirate part of your wips, please? 👀

That one is mostly notes so far. The idea is as follows: Pre TPM Maul gets captured by pirates and they try to get a ransom from Sidious, but Sidious is like: "If he can't get out of there alone, he's not worthy to be my apprentice. Kill him for all I care." So the pirates keep Maul and raise him and he grows up alongside Hondo and he reconnects with his Dathomirian roots and learns some nightsister magic.

I drew pirate Maul once.

And I also wrote a snippet for a picture that @obimaulartfire drew a while ago with belly dancer Maul. Sadly the picture got swallowed by tumblr somehow and is not findable anymore, but here is the flashfic:

“Why do I have to be the distraction, Hondo?”

“Because between the two of us, you’re the pretty one.” Hondo pats Maul’s cheek and makes sure to pull his hand back before the Zabrak can snap at him. Maul tries anyway, but Hondo knows his adopted brother well enough. They’ve grown up together ever since Hondo’s mother had tried to get a ransom for Maul and his master had abandoned him. They’re partners in crime ever since mom died and Hondo took over the pirating business. Well, Hondo and Maul took over together. But obviously, Hondo is the brains of the operation, if he can say so himself.

Since biting failed, Maul settles for glaring at him. “Something is distinctly wrong with your eyes if you think I’m pretty.”

Of course Maul thinks himself the brains of the operation that’s why he uses words like “distinctly” and insist on speaking with his coruscanti accent even though everyone normal would’ve adapted to Hondo’s superior way of speaking by now.

“You really should learn to take a compliment, dear brother,” Hondo says. “And believe me, this Hutt has a type and it’s all bright skin colors and interesting markings. You’re perfect for this job.”

Maul glowers but doesn’t argue any further. “Let’s not waste any more time, then.” When he walks towards their ship, all the jewelry he’s adorned with clinks with every move. Hondo could get used to that. Usually, Maul’s foot steps are way too quiet for his liking. You never get used to a red and black zabrak stepping out of a nearby shadow without warning. Maul loves doing that. It scares the pants off guests most of the time and it has given Hondo a few near heart attacks in the past.

“You can’t kill our target,” Hondo reminds him. “He’s more profitable as a hostage.”

“Yes, I know,” Maul says, annoyed. “Gods forbid I have fun at this mission.”

“Well …” Hondo grins. “I heard a certain Jedi is among the guests. So, if you play your cards right …”

“I don’t know which Jedi you mean,” Maul says coldly. Liar. Hondo has seen him make moon eyes at Kenobi every time they’ve met so far. Or what counts as moon eyes for Maul. It’s his usual glare, just with more intensity and a bit of a hungry edge. Every time Hondo crosses Kenobi’s path, he makes sure to take the Jedi hostage. As a treat for his dear brother. Of course he doesn’t get any thanks from Maul, but he know he appreciates it. Hondo makes sure to give them time to talk alone, too.

Honestly, Maul should be more thankful. For the exceptional job Hondo has done with Maul’s outfit for tonight, too. But that’s little brothers for you.

“Sure,” Hondo says with a grin. “But I heard him say last time that you look good wearing gold.”

Maul scoffs. He throws Hondo a quick glance from the side, though, as if trying to assess if he’s serious. Hondo’s grin grows. “Trust me,” he says. “This evening will be a success in more than one way.”

“Just focus on what we’re going to steal,” Maul says. But he doesn’t complain about being the distraction anymore. And Hondo sees him check his reflection in the cockpit window before they leave their ship after landing near the Hutt palace.

Hondo smiles to himself. He’ll get Maul to thank him later.

[hexiva]

ON NAR SHADDAA, UNEXPECTED HAVEN FOR FORCE BELIEVERS

Twenty-one years after Order 66, Hutt mystics still practice Jedi-like ways

By Angan Agondo, Alliance Network News

‘Spirituality’ isn’t the first word you think of when you think of Nar Shaddaa. But that’s exactly what Quiga Len-Wi (20) was seeking when he first set foot on the Huttese moon, three years ago. A native Mirialan, Baloo grew up in a culture with a deep connection to the Force, and with a deep affinity for it. If he had been born just a few years earlier, he probably would have grown up in the Jedi Order. 

But these days, believers in the Force are cut off from any galactic community. The Jedi are gone, and ancient local practices face serious repressions from the Empire. 

Len-Wi first heard about the Hutt mystics from a Twi’lek medic who visited his small town on Mirial. Charitable organizations from wealthy Core Worlds sometimes send out groups of medics and droids to provide care to the ‘magenta’ worlds - a list of worlds devastated by the fall of the Republic, so called for the magenta dots used to signify them on Imperial Holovision’s galactic map. 

“She wanted to treat us,” Len-Wi recalls, “But most of us just wanted to hear what was going on in the galaxy. No one trusts Imperial Holovision on Mirial, so whenever we meet an offworlder, they’re sure to be bombarded with questions about Coruscant.”

The medic had never been to Coruscant, but she was happy to tell stories about her life on Nal Hutta. 

“I’d spent my whole life wanting to be a Jedi,” Len-Wi says. “But there was no chance of that in the Empire. So when I heard about these Hutts who are in touch with the Force, who use it for spirituality and combat - I thought, what do I have to lose?”

Indeed, the similarities between Hutt mystics and Jedi are hard to ignore. “The Force is the Force,” Master Borgga Agashjic (724) says. “Certain species connect to it in different ways, but at their core, all Force traditions are similar.”

Aesthetically, Hutt mystics couldn’t be more opposite to the Jedi. A 12-foot-long Hutt, Borgga wears no robes, but instead a black-and-white mask with large antlers. Their amber eyes are hidden behind black lenses, and their mouth is covered by a gas mask built into the mask. Their green skin is covered in colorful body paint. 

But when they practice their art, any human watcher is immediately reminded of the old stories about the Jedi. With a wave of their stubby arm, they levitate the row of mystic masks which line the walls. They lunge across the room like a dancer with a speed and delicacy which belies their size, and at times it almost seems that they defy gravity. Humans aren’t used to thinking of Hutts as beautiful, but watching them, it’s hard to deny their alien grace. 

Unlike the great Jedi temple, there is no central locus for Hutt mystics. There are instead thousands of smaller temples, each with its own competing power structure and beliefs. But, like the Jedi and Sith of old, Hutt mystics are divided. 

“The Force flows through all living beings,” Borgga emphasizes to me. “You, me, Emperor Palpatine - all of us equally. So how can you justify slavery?” They shake their great, masked head. “Nal Hutta is the capital of the greatest society that the galaxy has ever known - we don’t have to allow this unnatural state to stain our history.”

Borgga is not alone in their anti-slavery stance. The greater community of Hutt mystics is torn between unilateral support for the policies and practices of the ruling Hutt Clan, and a long tradition of societal criticism. Although Hutt mystics are often separate from the ruling clans and their financial dealings, they enjoy a certain degree of traditional protection, and they have always engaged in a delicate push-and-pull relationship with the ruling clans. 

Borgga goes further than most, though. At Borgga’s small temple, crammed into a complex in the Nar Shaddaa industrial district, Hutt mystics practice their art alongside a handful of humanoids. Len-Wi is one of them. A tall fat man with green skin and black hair, his traditional Mirialan tattoos are hidden under body paint, and he wears a horned green mask. 

“People always talk about Hutt chauvinism in the Empire, how the Hutts think they’re better than everyone else and look down on humanoids,” Len-Wi tells me. “But what about human chauvinism? I might look more like a human than a Hutt, but humans still treated me like dirt every day of my life in the Empire. There’s nothing left for me back there. Even if the Rebellion triumphed, I wouldn’t go back.” Because of the Hutt Clans’ relationship to the Empire, Hutt Space enjoys a measure of protection from the restrictions placed on Imperial citizens. 

But not everyone in the mystic community has such a rosy view of life on Nar Shaddaa. Soan Starkiller, the only Twi’lek in Borgga’s temple, says that the movement still has a long way to go. “My family thinks I’m crazy for joining a Hutt temple,” she says. “Mostly, mystics are the same as other Hutts - they think a Twi’lek is a commodity, not a person. Master Borgga has done a lot for our people, but even here, all of the temple masters are Hutts. Humanoids, and especially Twi’leks, can only rise so far.”

When I point this out to Borgga, they look past me at my camera crew, and note that they’re all human. “Progress isn’t overnight,” they say. “But Hutts live a long time. If the Force is with us, I’ll live to see a Twi’lek temple master - and an Organa in the Imperial palace.”

[not0a0mundane]

thanks you @lost-in-derry for the tag to this!!

Rules: In a new post, list the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs. (I have a LONG WIP folder so for the sake of clarity I'm going to make them about the ones that have their own discord channel)

The Sith Queen - basically Padmé saves Darth Maul at the end of TPM and their friendship blooms from there (got the first part finished but the actual sith training motage is not written yet, I do got memes tho)

Little Sith Ani - this is an ongoing wip as it is a series and it's basically "what if Anakin was always a sith" with the twist that he was mostly raised by Darth Maul. Currently has 5 installments and I plan for more when I get back to it.

Jabba's Jewel - Palpatine loses Darth Maul in a bet with Jabba the Hutt. Jabba fakes Maul's death and has a shiny new assasin/exotic dancer. I haven't got any writing yet but I do have memes

Caught in his golden gaze - an emotionally neglected rich coruscant sociolite is stuck in a loveless marriage when a handsome bachelor in the form of the newest representative for Naboo, the war hero Jar Jar Binks. (Will try to keep it as GN!REader as possible)

Ashla Au - got like 2 chapters done, basically kallus realised the atrocity he commited on lasan and the goddess Ashla saw that and decided "you will earn your forgivness".

The Bogling au - nearly same vein as the ashla au, but Kallus had always been in association with the lasat pantheon. (basically kallus is a no-domain deity, get's put into a tiny mortal body and has to find a domain that he can become the god of so that he can return home)(still in the working things through phase, based on greek mythology reimagined into a star wars setting)

Bonus!

OSHA!Inspector Maul Au - a silly little idea where Palpatine takes Smaul(Small Maul) with him to see the cloning facilities on Kamino and then forgets Maul there. When he remembers that he as an apprentice some time later, Maul has already become an intern in the Kamino cloning facility. They refuse to acknowledge that Palpatine even came into their facility with a dathomirian zabrak child in tow.

tagging: @seth-silver-ink @hannagoldworthy @sapphic-loser16 @astralalmighty @gran-maul-seizure and anyone else that wants to try!

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 27: Protect (Late)

SWTOR

Time: Hutt Cartel

A/N: Dr. O keeps talking to me. So we don't get that very important conversation about Lippi here, but ... we do get an understanding. And yes, there's a Star Trek TOS reference.

~~

A rapping at the doorframe to his makeshift laboratory tent. 

Dr. Oggurobb looked up.  He hadn’t expected any visitors, especially after he’d sent that ambitious little leech away.  He had to lower the focus of his vision another few centimeters to perceive his visitor. 

“Ah.  Captain.”

She had been right; that Addar boy did seem to be jockeying for a position in the galactic Senate.  And based upon how she’d methodically sacked his old laboratory, she was remarkably perceptive…

He held back “for a smuggler.”   She had yet to make a similar comment about him.  Friendly “for a Hutt.”  Book-smart “for a Hutt.”  Unmaterialistic –

Well, that one wasn’t true at all; it simply manifested differently than raw wealth, war materiel, luxury barges with dancers, and credits.  It took the form of exquisite lab equipment, highest quality optical lasers and lenses, and particularly rare and delightful tea. 

…even his own people considered him strange.  An alien.  An aberration. 

“Dr. Oggurobb.  Do you have time to give me a more detailed brief on your defenses at Tonborro’s palace?”  Captain Corolastor broke through his internal agonizing as she pulled a datapad out of her field jacket.  “I’m heading in there with a Mandalorian and a sticky-fingered Mon Calamari, and I’d like to get …” She made a motion with her hand as she booted up her device.  “…more insight on whatever creative furies seized you on a given day….so I can destroy them more efficiently.”

Then the Captain paused, stared at her datapad, and then looked up at him.  “…they explode like little bunches of colored fireworks.  That deliberate?”

Dr. Oggurobb couldn’t stop the swell of pride.  “Yes, it is by design!  Color! Vibrancy!  Impact!  Destruction should never be dull.”

“So tell me about the design process,” the Captain deftly cut in.  “And tell me anything your particularly remember about the programming.”  She reached again into her field jacket.  “It’s old, but I know it can slice anything.”

Oggurobb peered through his magnifying ocular piece, so he did not have to try to bend.  “That omnitool is of the age to be in the museum, though not the condition.  It has received considerable abuse.”

The second the words had left his mouth, he regretted them.  Most sentients had things that were of sentimental value; he had very few of such things.  He was much more concerned about the latest and the greatest technology.  He may have – no, he probably did offend her –

“Still used and useful, so why put it under transparisteel?  Same goes for the rest of my ship, if you plan on commenting on that as well,” she replied airily. 

With no further ado, she deposited herself in the single standard sentient-sized chair in the room and waited for him.  No grudge. 

She desired information more than she did an argument. 

“…very well.” 

Oggurobb moved to pick up his own datapad stack that he’d personally carried from the laboratory.  As he turned back around, he noticed her craning her neck toward a cup that he had left out.  “Apologies.  I had not anticipated visitors.  I could prepare – ”

“If it’s the bagged stuff from Shalim’s office – pass.”   Corolastor tilted the cup toward her, inspecting the bottom of the vessel.  She made a disapproving face and set it back on its flat.  “I can get my Hollis – with a modified speech board – down here with some of the ship’s stash of looseleaf.” 

Oggurobb raised an eye ridge.  “You observed the empty storage vessels when you tore apart the laboratory.”

Corolastor nodded.

“Indeed, I had been imprisoned for quite some time and under considerable duress.  My supply has been depleted.”  A pause.  “Modified speech board?”

“Won’t speak until spoken to.”

“Summon him and your tea immediately then!  It is a rare privilege to have a willing audience to explain my madness and my method, my melody and my masterwork!”

~~

The noise came far too early for Corolastor’s Hollis droid to have shuffled from her ship to his laboratory. 

Her eyes had flickered as she recognized the shift in the soundscape, the subtle change in the ambiance. 

The voices caused both their heads to turn. 

Then the blaster fire ---

Corolastor was fast on her feet, pulling her own piece.  “I got this.  You’re probably more a lover than a fighter.”

“Apologies, but neither descriptor suits me!”  Dr. Oggurobb replied as he maneuvered himself behind his desk, as futile as he knew it was.  He was far too large to conceal himself successfully. 

By the time he’d managed to cram himself into a corner, the Captain was out the door, and the distinct patter of her blaster came to his auditory receptors, enhanced by his own technological innovations. 

She barked orders – set a perimeter, clear out the hides, scan for observational droids – why hadn’t this place been sussed out before? 

Dr. Oggurobb supposed he was useful.  He supposed that perhaps he was an unofficial hostage, here because he had information of value.  Once he had outlived his usefulness, he’d be thrown back to the Cartel, viewed as either as a traitor or inept at his job in keeping Tonborros safe and secure. 

…the accusation of ineptitude would probably be worse, in his own mind, so Oggurobb hoped for the status of traitor instead. 

Then the Captain returned, smelling of ozone and smoke and the fresh night.  “No crossfire in here?” she asked, looking around the tent to check for holes, he supposed.

“None.” 

…and then, there was a shift of the head, a slide into something else –

“Given that you’re under my protection, it wouldn’t suit to have you shot up.”

Dr. Oggurobb knew he wasn’t in danger…and yet – “You work for –”

“Myself,” answered the Voidhound. 

…in later days, Oggurobb always did admire that dramatic turn, whenever she pulled it out on other people. 

~~

@fluffyfebruary

[ooops-i-arted]

Daughter of the Mudhorn

Alanne tried to wipe her eyes but her hands were just far enough away, cuffed and magnetized to the wall of her tiny cell.  She sniffled and then swallowed, trying not to make a sound.  They would come in and hit her again, hard, and had taken her armor pieces so she had no protection.  There was already dried blood itching at her temple and wetter stuff still dripping from her nose, which hurt with every twitch.

They were quiet now in the other room.  She tried to listen.  She had heard them already, talking about the New Alderaan Consulate and the Mand’alor and ransom money and asking for beskar.  She tried not to cry but tears dripped down as she thought of her beautiful beskar shoulder plate with the mudhorn signet on it, pure shining silver just like her father’s armor and newly forged to fit her growing shoulder now that she was almost eleven.  She had promised the Armorer she would wear it with pride, and when her dad took off his helmet to see it again later he was beaming and told her she was truly Mando’ad.  But she’d just gone into the Hosnian Prime market to look around and get a snack while her mother met with some New Alderaan officials and she’d been disarmed, captured, and her armor taken.  It was a durasteel light set, more form than function, but how could she ever earn a real set of armor if she had already been disgraced like this?

A loud bang and she jumped, her aching nose and her bruised wrists hurting under the sudden movement.  She didn’t know who had taken her, but she knew enough about the underworld.  There were the Hutts, and the Exchange, and the Pyke Syndicate, and more she had probably never heard of, and she was a princess of Mandalore.  She was worth a lot of credits.  Whoever took her, they might have competition.  Not to mention that every pretty girl in the galaxy heard sooner or later how Hutts got their dancers.

Loud blaster fire roared in the next room and Alanne hid her face in her arms, crying.  Crying like a coward, a daughter of Mandalore afraid of blaster fire!  Her mom and dad would never cry, they would fight.  But how could she fight?  She wasn’t as strong as them and she didn't even have any weapons or armor.  She couldn’t even get herself uncuffed from the wall, thought her wrists were mottled with bruises from trying.

She tried to cover her ears with her arms, trying to block out the sounds of fighting in the next room and failing.  She just wanted to go home.  She wanted her mom and dad, her own room, even her annoying siblings.  She just wanted to go home.

“WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!”

Alanne’s head popped up.  Was it - was it really -?

The door was forced open, and her mother was there.

“MOM!” Alanne cried out, trying to get up and falling back against the wall.

“Alanne!”  Cara rushed forward, disengaging the cuffs and breaking them off at their weak point.

She should have thought of that.  Alanne didn’t say it as her mother held her tight.  “Mom - Mom -”

“Are you hurt?  Did they hurt you?” Cara asked, tilting Alanne’s head back to inspect her.  “Your nose looks broken, oh my poor girl -”

Alanne couldn’t stop the tears pouring out of her eyes.  She tried to speak but all she could say was, “Mom…”

Cara held her close and tight.  “I’m here, baby girl.  You’re safe.”

Alanne gave up and sobbed into her shoulder.  “M-mom… they g-grabbed me in the m-market…”

Cara rocked her gently, like she was a baby again.  “Someone saw.  They recognized your armor and called the Mandalorian embassy.  They told me right away.”

Her armor, her beautiful new armor.  “Th-they took m-my armor…”

“We’ll find it, don’t worry.  You’re safe now.  We need to call your father and tell him you’re safe, and get you to a medical droid.”

Her father!  What would he think?  “My new b-beskar p-pauldron…”

“If it’s not still here, the Armorer can forge you a new one,” Cara said, kissing her head.  “Come on, sweetie.”

“B-but…”  She started crying harder, unable to stop.  “B-but I l-lost beskar.  D-dad will be… he’ll think…”

Cara’s brow furrowed.  “He’ll think what?  He’ll be happy you’re safe, Alanne.”

“I lost my first piece of real armor.  I lost beskar.  I’m not worthy.  I’m not… I’m not a real Mando’ad,” Alanne said, the words pouring out in a rush.

Cara stilled, and for a moment Alanne thought her mother would be angry at her.  Cara cupped her cheek gently.  “No, Alanne.  Don’t ever think that.”

“But I lost my beskar!  It was taken away from me by someone who was a victor in combat!”

“You are ten.  You’re still in training.  At ten I couldn’t take on all six of those people over there.  I did now because of my years of training and practice.”

“I’m almost old enough to swear the Creed!”

“Swearing the Creed at thirteen is the old way that you may or may not choose to follow.  And even when your father swore it at thirteen, he was still training.  He went on missions with a mentor, not by himself.  Being a Mandalorian warrior, or any kind of fighter, takes years of discipline and training.  Think of your brother, he’s over seventy and just now starting with a training saber after years working on other Jedi skills.”

Alanne sniffled; now snot was draining out her nose like she was a baby and not a princess of Mandalore.  “I’m not… I failed.  I failed and I’m not a good Mandalorian.  I’m not a warrior.”

“You are a warrior.  You’re brave.  I know you tried to fight them, and then you tried to escape,” Cara said, gently brushing her fingers across Alanne’s broken nose and bruised wrists.  “You did the best you could with what you have, like any Mandalorian.”

“But you and Dad would’ve beat them… you never would’ve been caught.  You wouldn’t even be scared.  I’ll never… what if I am never a true Mandalorian warrior?”

“Look at me,” Cara said, and Alanne obeyed.  “I already told you that being a warrior like me or your father takes years of training.  But the other thing is, you are a member of Clan Djarin.  Do you remember the stories we told you?  About how we found and protected your brother?”

Alanne nodded; everyone on Mandalore knew about how Mand’alor the Reluctant had been a simple bounty hunter until he found a Jedi child, decided to protect him, and in the process won the Darksaber and became leader of their people.

“You know the part where we went back to Nevarro so Uncle Greef could help us keep Grogu safe from the Empire?  When we fought Moff Gideon the first time?  There were so many soldiers, dozens of them.  We fought every one until the Moff hurt your father with an explosion.  I carried him back inside but the building was starting to burn.  I couldn’t see a way out.  I was afraid we were going to die.”

Alanne blinked in surprise.  “You were afraid, Mom?”

“I was.  We were trapped, your father was hurt, there was fire all around us… and then what happened?”

She knew the story well since her brother liked this part a lot.  “Grogu saved you.  He made the firetrooper stop attacking you.”

Cara nodded.  “He saved us.  Even two fighters like me and your father, with all our years of training, would’ve been defeated without him.”  She cupped Alanne’s face.  “You are a Mandalorian, Alanne.  And you are also a member of Clan Djarin.  When one of us cannot stand, another protects them until they can again.”

Alanne nodded, sniffling again, but this time no more fresh tears came.  Cara wiped away the ones already on her cheek.  “Your father and I love you more than anything else in the galaxy.  Your brother and sister too.  We will always be there for you when you need us.”

Alanne hugged her mother again, but this time it truly made her feel safe and calm again.  Cara kissed her head.  “Can you walk, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mom.”  Alanne stood, a little wobbly from the hours forced to sit down, but able to keep her feet.

“My speeder is outside.  Let’s get on and we can call your dad as we head to the medcenter, all right?”  Cara put an arm around her protectively as they walked out into the next room, where six bodies of various species were sprawled around the room, unmoving.

Alanne spotted a gleam and moved before her mother could stop her, grabbing a dirty bag.  Inside were all her armor pieces, and on top the beskar pauldron.

“See?  All good,” Cara said with a smile.  “I can carry it for you, if you need me to.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Alanne said, hoisting it on her shoulder.  “I can carry this now.”

-

Also on AO3 | Part of the Caradin Royalty AU

I watched Daughter of the Wolf (free on YouTube if you're interested) and was filled with such a need for Mama Bear Cara it overcame my writer's block.

[andorshitdaily]

Most likely to become a Hutt dancer

that one could get problematic......but also it intrigues me

[looseleafteeaves]

Facing the Krayt Dragon

Note that this will be majorly AU, and also contain a ton of fanon/headcanon ideas. Rule of thumb? If you recognize it, probably not mine. You will see… Alderaanian culture stuff, force sensitive ideas, jedi stuff, amavikka stuff(aka Tatooine Slave Culture from various fandom writers, though one of the largest is @fialleril ), and maybe a touch of naboo culture stuff. Nothing will be Jedi critical.

Leia had followed Han to Tatooine for several reasons.

The mountains of Alderaan echoed in her bones but the waters of Naboo sung through her blood and the sands of the desert made up her soul.

One reason was Han’s capture.

One was the call she felt to the place her rebel brother called home.

One was to see the ghost of Obi-wan’s last years of life.

One was that she had heard a voice roaring for her to come home. To walk the blood soaked sands. To wake the dragon.

Yes, Leia had many reasons to walk beneath the twin burning suns.

Her war braids entwinned with mourning white ribbons as she approaches Mos Eisley. She knew she could handle herself.

Even if she felt adrift without her twin sun to orbit.

Leia was not prepared. Jabba the Hutt, sniveling worm that he was, had decided that she was pretty. Luke had nothing good to say about the place, and even less about the few times his family had to work off a debt to Jabba in the dry years. Leia knew she would be in for months, if not years of struggle. Luke’s advice still rang in her head like the mountain top cathedral bells. “If you must go to Tatooine, hide yourself first. You are foreign, pretty, young, and obviously fierce. They will think you are worth the risk of hunting to sell.”

Leia had not stayed hidden. And by the time several months had passed? She could feel the call to the desert growing stronger, and the urge to resist growing weaker.

“Child.”

Leia looked up immediately. An older weequay, named Shirsu Terramitta was approaching.

“Yes, Shirsu?”

The old weequay smiled. “Come to my rooms tonight. It is a time of joy. I would like to invite you to partake.”

A voice, unfamiliar but kind, spoke. “She will never be a jedi.”

“No. She will be someone else. Can you not hear the Force proclaiming such, as loud an a chorus sung across the mountains of Alderaan?”

Leia thinks long and hard, but nods. “I will be there Shirsu.”

“I will be waiting, Sister.”

Something stirs. That name is familiar, in the way that a favored bedtime story half-remembered is. Yes. I am Sister.

—

Jabba releases his dancers early. Rumors of a sickness tearing through his pets makes him wary of keeping them too close. All of his dancers move to Shirsu’s room.

“Leia, you are coming to Grandmother today?”

Leia pauses, nodding. The human, Itza, smiles. “Then I am glad to walk beside you.”

Leia remains quiet. The air feels like the moment before a sandstorm hits.

Anticipation. Danger. Survival.

Hope.

———

Shirsu welcomes everyone is, and says “My people, one has joined us. She looks towards the desert each day. She is Called. We now must bring her into our family. She must have her Name.”

Leia felt something building, something charging the air. A cool sensation like morning dew on Alderaan surrounded the quartet.

“Leia, we name you kin. You have been a slave, you will always remember that. You are one of us. I tell you this story to save your life.”

Shirsu- Grandmother- tells her the story of the stealing of Ar-Amu’s children. Of her promise. Of Depur and Ekkreth. Of Akar Hinil, Tena, Ebra, Mitta, the Twins who carried the suns.

Of Leia and Lukka. Of how the Krayt chases the sandstorm, and the sandstorm the krayt. Forever orbiting each other.

Leia learns about the piece of herself that never fit. She grows. She learns. And one day, many months after Bentu Depurak, Jabba is displeased with his senator toy. She had tried to poison him. He decided to send her into the desert for face the storm.

Leia, the call of the desert like a deafening scream, keeps her smile small and secret.

She knew the poison would come in handy

[cheemscakecat]

The real reason OG trilogy Star Wars fans hated the George Lucas revised version.

So this is the original scene from the first version of Return of the Jedi. This song was used in the marketing leading up to this movie’s release, with both a club and disco version produced.

The original Lapti Nek and Oola death scene is a lot darker and Jabba’s palace is seedy rather than just gross.

This is the replacement scene with the song “Jedi Rocks”. Both the dancers and the musicians seem to actually enjoy and take pride in what they’re doing, despite being in the Hutt’s presence. Which was not the intention in the original scene, or the Star Wars legends.

If you can find it, the 1995 Tales from Jabba’s Palace is a good read that uses the Lapti Nek version of the band and Oola. There’s also an anthology book of three “Tales from” collections called Star Wars Tales. It includes Tales from Tatooine and of the Bounty Hunters that Vader sent after Luke.

Without spoiling everything, just know that Jabba’s consorts hated him and pretty much everyone was trying to kill him, or survive long enough to escape “employment”. Jedi Rocks makes it seem like everyone likes working for him, when Hutts are supposed to be ruthless, greedy slavers and crime lords who trap talent.

You can see why someone who saw the original version and/or read the books would be upset about the change.

[contentment-of-cats]

WiP bit: Late Bloomer

Ilyana gets dressed when everyone else has gone out. The party dress in gold and black that falls just above her knees in front and to her ankles in back. The shoes have something called 'kitten' heels and she can run in them if need be. She does her hair up with combs, and puts on the delicate Chandrilan glass and aurum jewelry. At the last moment she bokboks and puts on the detachable sleeves and beaded chiffon wrap. the cosmetics feel as odd on her skin as the clothing does on her body. The little bag - no pockets to be had on any of her new outfits - holds her credit stick, mini blaster, cosmetics, and a little bottle of perfume that she hadn't quite dared to put on. Being in uniforms from the age of fourteen made her uncomfortable, sticking out like a beacon.

Reclaiming her rented aircar, Ilyana set out to the Thousand Fountains district, nearly fainted at the parking charges, and walked to the Famous Roses Show Bar. Sure enough, there were ladies dancing in the windows, and a smiling Twilek all but herding her in the door and taking her money. Two drink minimum, the kitchen never closes, why not sit right here, poppet?

'Right here' turned out to be the stage, and the drink was a sweet and frozen thing with garnishes and a little paper umbrella. Cautiously looking around confirmed that, yes, the clientele was composed only of women. Some of them looking right at her as if she were a slice of blackout cake. The music started and a lady came strutting out on stage in boots to her thighs, a dress that didn't have enough bottom to reach the top of the boots, and also didn't have enough to keep her generous boobs contained. How did anyone dance in heels that high?Ilyana followed the others seated stage-side in tapping her credit stick on the receiver and sending credits to the dancer's account.

Ohbrightstars. The lady came over to dance right in front of her and Ilyana blushed. It wasn't indecent - she still had all of her scanty clothing on and-

No, she didn't.

Ilyana mentally smacked herself and remembered her manners.

The lady cooed and pinched her cheeks. "Oh, sugarbun, are you new to the team?"

In the next few minutes a crowd of dancing ladies plucked her from her seat and relocated her to an ornate couch, then all of then proceeded to dance on tables and even grind on her lap. If Ilyana blushed any more, her head would explode. Maybe this had not been the best idea, but they were all being so nice. She bought drinks for them, and was often placed in a lap when the lap she currently occupied had to perform. Likewise, a number of the clientele were looking at her as the Big Bad Howler looked at Little Masha. Even worse, Ilyana could recognize Captain Daala and Captain Sloane. An icy blonde was looking her over as if Ilyana was something she wanted to try on.

"It's late and I wanted to get my aircar and go find some dawnmeal-"

Six of the ladies bunched around her. "You have an aircar?"

And, "Don't worry, Poppet. We won't let the she-wolves get you."

"Er, yes. It's parked over at Guitta's-"

"Oh, the Hutt. Don't worry, she won't charge you a clipped credit."

"I know the perfect place. My sister's waiting tables at the Allisandre Grill-"

Honestly, maybe they ought to put dancing ladies in uniform because, bright stars, they plowed through everything like an ISD on full fire. True to their word, Ilyana was refunded her parking charge, and ten dancing ladies piled into the aircar. Noemi - a sweet-faced Alderaani gave her the directions and Giama got them the parking spot, while Maddein led a little parade of scantily-clad ladies and Ilyana into the grill, calling for a table in her sister's section. Ilyana checked her credit balance and tapped it on the receiver set in the table.

~

The enforced socializing made Karyn wish that she was a junior officer again. Sit and sit until you ass was sore, stand around until your feet hurt, smile until your face was fit to fall off your-

A few times in one's life, one witnessed such doings that the inside of one's skull was utterly silent. This was one of them. Pyro had said she didn't have plans for the evening, and that was technically true, but it failed to explain how her weapons officer and freshly-minted senior lieutenant was seated in the midst of a line of showgirls. Karyn reached over and tugged at the hem of Thrawn's tunic, drawing him from a conversation with a glassy-eyed Siward Cass about Delayan Clone War-era art.

The silence was positively ringing and Karyn caught Cass and Tarkin (and Vanto) counting the ladies surrounding a pink-cheeked Pyrondi.

"I'm going to ask her for pointers," Vanto muttered.

"This explains a few things," Jashin Agral agreed.

"By the UCNJ, she's not breaking any rules or regulations," Thrawn cut to the heart of the matter. "We'll have a talk with her later. While she didn't lie, there was not a lot of truth in her words. Humans are so strange about sex."

The Allisandre Grill was drawing a crowd. Mostly men. Mostly flag rank or connected. All of them homing in on the windowside table. Karyn picked up the pace, altering course, going to rescue her weapons officer before a talking-to that would blister ears. Of all the numbskulled capers-

~

The caf was freshly roasted and the pancakes were delicious; on the whole breakfast was solid as the decks of the Chimaera. The ladies were a flight of chattering tropical birds in colorful feathers, and Ilyana just listened for her name and got her cheeks pinched a lot. From time to time, rankers would come up to the window, stare, and then leave. As long as they were not in the restaurant, Ilyana did not have to come to attention.

"Ah. Senior Lieutenant Pyrondi." That voice, despite not being Navy, had her at attention as if there was a cable to the top of her head. "Delightful evening."

"Yes, Colonel Yularen, sir!"

Major Partagaz heeled his superior officer, and fixed her with a look that made cadets and midshipmen shake in their boots. Both men looked over the women at the table for long, voiceless moments.

"As you were, Lieutenant Pyrondi." The old wolf had a reputation as one with a high rate of return for the ladies. "Carry on."

"Sir." Ilyana resumed her seat after coming to attention for Major Partagaz, who had been Professor Partagaz not too long ago."

"Indeed, do carry on, Lieutenant Pyrondi," the major echoed before following Yularen. "Goodness, Wullf. She was always one of the quiet ones-"

[codybennett535]

Oola x Luke AU story idea (Version 2)

NOTE: I decided to write a second version of my story idea. This version is more faithful to the film version of Oola but she still survives & develops a close relationship with Luke. Today was another miserable day for Jabba's prized Twi'lek dancer Oola. She sat on his large throne, looking down at the floor. Thinking upon how she arrived here at the palace a year ago. She was the daughter of a high ranking chieftain back home on Ryloth. Even among her kind she was considered to be the most beautiful twi'lek to ever grace the planet. Her light green olive skin was truly something to behold. Oola at a young age began to practicing the art of dancing. It was always her dream to become a great dancer & perform in front of a crowd of thousands. She always felt so more free when she danced. Granted the dream she had would most likely never happen due her life circumstances. It was the night she performed a ritual dance for her clans guest; Bib Fortuna. He claimed to be the emissary of a wealthy nobleman called Jabba. Fortuna said that Jabba was a handsome individual who loved twi'lek culture & more importantly skillful twi'lek dancers. After seeing Oola's ritual dance he offers to take Oola to Jabba's Palace on Tatooine, where she would be his honored guest & the opportunity to be his prized dancer. For Oola this was amazing! The opportunity to finally lead a good life off Ryloth and to be the honored guest of this 'handsome' Jabba. Perhaps after performing for him he would adore her & make her his palace Queen. Perhaps even more. She begged her father to let her go & to chase her dreams while it was still possible for her to do so. He reluctantly agreed to Bib's offer & Oola would leave with him immediately for Tatooine. Oola was so excited! Especially to meet Jabba. When they arrived on Tatooine it wasn't what she expected. The whole planet was one big desert wasteland, not to mention it was owned by the Hutt Cartel. Fortuna first took Oola to another female twi'lek named Madam Garsa Fwip; who owned a cartina resort called the Sanctuary & was once a talented dancer back in her younger days. Fortuna tasked Madam Garsa to training Oola to dance in certain ways that Jabba would like. Oola didn't need much training given her background but proved herself to be extremely talented at the craft of dancing. Garsa congratulated Oola on her extraordinary talent & told Fortuna she was ready for Jabba. After they arrived at the palace Oola immediately knew something wasn't right. Disgusting ugly gamorrean guards quickly grabbed her & dragged her screaming to the main audience chamber. As soon as they entered in they immediately tossed Oola onto the metal grate that was the ground. Suddenly she heard a disturbing laugh that sounded too loud & booming to be a human. She looked up & saw a disgusting fat slug creature that was no doubt a Hutt. He stared at her with bright orange eyes with black slits. He licked the air with his horrible smiley tongue. Bib Fortuna stood right beside him smiling "Jabba meet Oola. The extremely talented twi'lek dancer from Ryloth I've told you about. I hope she impresses you. For her sake." Jabba laughed even more speaking in huttese "Hahaha! We'll see. I want to see her dance. I want to see her head-tails flying from side to side like the coming wind. Her body to move with the music fast. If she proves herself worthy and I will spare her life. If she fails then I shall take sweet pleasure in watching her die screaming. And poor Pateesa has been starving lately. I have no doubt her beautiful green flesh would taste sweet. Tell her!" Bib Fortuna translated for him "You will now dance for your new Master; Jabba The Hutt & if you value your pathetic life you will dance well. If you impress your Master well enough you will be his prized palace dancer & will sit along side him as his favorite. If you displease him then you shall pay with your life & be delivered to something far more horrific than your pretty little mind could imagine. Do you understand my dear?" Oola suddenly heard a deep growl coming from below her. Something was beneath her. Something monstrous. The very thing that would take her life if she failed. She looked back up & quickly nodded in fear. Fortuna was pleased that she understood. "Begin!" The band members that resided in the audience chamber began playing a instrumental version of the song Lapti Nek. Oola picked up on her cues quickly & got into the rhythm of the dance. Twirling her body left & right. As she continued the dance many of Jabba's guests (fellow scoundrels & criminals) began watching Oola. Becoming excited as she continued to move around the throne room. Kicking her legs up high for all to see. Demonstrating that she was not a common twi'lek dancer you would find in the slums of Coruscant. She began to sweat heavily as she continued to move under the chamber light. However it wasn't simply just heat but also fear. Fear of what would happen if she completed this dance. If she failed she would suffer a horrible fate & die. If she was successful she would be a slave to Jabba. Dancing for his pleasure over & over again. Granted at least she'll get to live. But to live as a slave is almost worse. As she continued on several beats she could tell that the song was coming to an end & with the last note she finished the performance off with a low kneel. She heard the crowd going wild with loud hoots of appreciation & clapping the dancer on a performance well done. Suddenly Jabba's voice bellowed "Bring her to me!" Fortuna came up from behind her, placing his filthy claws against Oola's back. Pressing her forward towards Jabba. Jabba grabbed a hold of her with stubby slimy fingers. Examining her once more, knowing it made her feel scared not knowing his verdict of her. "You danced well…slave." Jabba laughed with sadistic joy "We have a new dancer & now you belong to me till the day your life ends. Make no mistake lovely Oola…you will learn to appreciate me." Jabba then licked Oola's face with his filthy long tongue much to her disgust. "Oh yes…you will be my favorite." Soon after Bib Fortuna had picked out a rather revealing dancing attire for Oola. It was a black fishnet body stocking that left very little to the imagination concerning her breasts & hips. Along with a black leather thong concealing her pelvis area. Tight strapped sandals on her feet, along with a annoying head-dress she was forced to wear. The cones on it covered her twi'lek ears which bothered her. However the worst of it was the steel slave collar she was forced to wear. She couldn't stand it. After everything she ended up a slave, wearing very little to nothing. Fortuna connected a leash made of knotted leather to the collar & led her back to Jabba who took possession of the leash along with Oola. For the past year Oola had danced for Jabba's amusement, cleaning his filthy obese body & on rare days had to pleasure him by allowing him to touch her green skin. He would often lick her & drool over her like she was a prepared meal. She hated every minute of it but more importantly she hated him. Whenever she saw him eat one of his paddy frogs she hoped he would choke to death on it. It would be a fitting end for a monster like him but the universe apparently wasn't so kind anymore. Men like Jabba reigned untouched while innocent people such as Oola suffered greatly. All for his enjoyment. She became a star attraction at the palace. Many of Jabba's patrons would come to watch her dance. Granted like Jabba they watched her with lustful eyes & thirsty mouths. No sympathy at all for the girl's poor situation or the fact she was a slave. All they cared about was her body moving fast to the music beat. She even overheard some of them betting on her life. "She won't last much longer. Sooner or later she'll displease him somehow & we'll finally get some REAL entertainment. I bet she'll die screaming in the pit." "I mean yeah she's pretty & all but at the end of the day slaves are replaceable. Even twi'leks like her." "She might dance well for a slave but Jabba will tire of her eventually. And then the Rancor will receive a nice tasty twi'lek snack." Hearing such things made her soul break. She meant nothing to these hive of scoundrels. Just a dancer whose life depended on the quality of her performance & if her 'Master' was satisfied with it. She once witnessed Jabba execute a man who was caught stealing credits from his vault. The Hutt activated the trap door which dropped the man into the pit. Everyone gathered around to watch. She caught someone saying "I wish it was the twi'lek getting it but this will do!" The man stood in the pit, afraid of what was to come. Begging for his life in huttese. Hoping that Jabba would spare him. But Jabba never spared thieves. The massive steel gate began to activate & rise up. Revealing the hideous Rancor that lived on the other side. Oola's eyes widened at the sight of it. It was larger than a bantha! It's skin dark brown but scaly like a reptile. It's clawed hands long enough that they could probably tear down the chamber grate. And it's rows of teeth were razor sharp. Oola knew the man had no chance of survival. The Rancor roared loudly & quickly grabbed it's screaming prey. Forcing the man into it's large jaws & devoured him. " Oola turned her face away in disgust when she heard his bones crunch. Jabba then grabbed her by her cheeks, forcing her to witness the rest. "You will do well to obey me lovely Oola. It would be such a shame to see someone as beautiful as you end up in the jaws of the Rancor. But make no mistake my dear, if you become more trouble than you're worth I will enjoy watching Pateesa feast upon your bones." Jabba said giving Oola a lick on her lekku, making her skin crawl with revulsion. Several days later the palace received two visitors who were droids: C-3PO & R2-D2. Who claimed that they had a message from Luke Skywalker; the great Jedi Knight who was battling against the Empire & a member of the Rebel Alliance. Oola had heard many stories about him, so much so that she developed a crush on the young Jedi. Luke via hologram offered Jabba a deal; bargaining for the release of his friend Captain Han Solo. A former smuggler who worked for Jabba but failed him once too many times. Now he was frozen in carbonite & used as decoration for Jabba's throne room. Sometimes Oola thought it looked worse than being dead. Skywalker was hoping they could come to an understanding otherwise "unpleasant confrontation" would take place. As a token of his appreciation he even offered the service of his droids to Jabba. Oola knew tho what his answer would be. Ultimately Jabba declared that there would be no bargain & that Solo was now his property. Much like Oola was. Later that evening Oola was performing another dance for Jabba's court. The music playing was the vocal version of Lapti Nek, performed by Sy Snootles & her band mates Max Rebo & Droopy McCool. Tonight Oola kept her mind off Jabba & thought about the handsome Jedi Knight she saw on the hologram. His handsome facial features, his soothing voice. Oola would be lying if she said she wasn't infatuated with him. Especially the stories others told of his bravery against the evils of the galaxy. Perhaps when he comes here he'll rescue her as well. Yes, her freedom would be restored & she could finally be away from this planet, away from Jabba. Oola's daydreaming got her into such a mood that she began dancing the best performance of her life. She moved her body fast with such grace & elegance, that some of the crowd members wondered if it was a really twi'lek dancing or a divine goddess in disguise. Jabba himself became insanely lustful after watching her perform her greatest dance yet. So much so that he began to pull Oola's leash hard! Wanting her to pleasure him again. Oola however refused to endure such treatment again. Not tonight. She just needed to dance. Oola spoke in huttese "Please I just wanna dance!" Jabba spoke back "Come to me my lovely pet!" Oola responded "I don't want to pleasure you!" Jabba roared "I said come here now!" He pulled the leash even harder dragging Oola forward till her feet were above the trap door that led to the Rancor Pit. Oola begged once more, not realizing how close to death's door she really was. "Master please stop!" Jabba at this point finally had enough. She would pay with her life for this insolence. Before he had a chance to hit the trap door button a loud blaster bolt was heard throughout the palace. Everyone was startled by it, including Oola. Who was quickly pulled to the throne by Jabba, laying against his filthy obese body, in fear of the palace's unwelcome guest. After one of the palace guards had been tossed aside trying to stop the intruder, from the dark corridor came a masked bounty hunter calling himself Boushh. With him was his wookie prisoner; Chewbacca. Captain Solo's first mate & friend. Boushh was trying to negotiate the price of the wookie. Saying he would only agree to 50,000. No less. When C-3PO translated the price for Jabba he became enraged. Demanding why he must pay 50,000 for a bounty that was originally 25,000. Boushh's response was pulling out a thermal detonator. Threatening to kill everyone in the room. Everyone panicked, including Oola whose heart was beating with fear. However Jabba simply laughed with amusement. Rather than being intimidated by Boushh's negotiation tactic, he was impressed. Liking his style. He agreed to pay him only 35,000. Boushh accepted the amount & deactivated the detonator. The wookie was quickly taken away to the dungeons by gamorrean guards. The party was soon back in swing, in celebration of Chewbacca's capture. Jabba demanded that Oola go back to performing & that she must dance twice as hard as punishment for disobeying him earlier. Oola reluctantly got up from the stone dias & began doing another dance that lasted for almost an hour before retiring for the rest of the night. She was beyond exhausted. At least he didn't cast her into the pit. Later that night it was revealed that the bounty hunter Boushh was actually the Princess of Alderaan; Leia Organa. One of the key leaders of the Rebel Alliance & Captain Solo's lover. Turns out while everyone was asleep, she freed Solo from his carbonite prison. She attempted to smuggle both of them out but they were quickly caught by Jabba & his forces. He suspected immediately that there was something not right about the bounty hunter & his instincts proved him right. Solo was soon taken away to the dungeons, after failing to make a deal for his release. After Leia was captured by Jabba, he considered making her into a slave at first but decides that interrogation & imprisonment might prove more useful. Not to mention how much the Empire is willing to pay for her. Later that evening Luke arrives at the palace, Oola sees him come in into the audience chamber and tries to speak "It's you isn't it? You're him! You'e Luke Skywalk.." Jabba yanks her chain, silencing her. This bothers Luke greatly, seeing a young girl being enslaved & abused by slime such as Jabba. After trying to bargain with Jabba Luke says "Nevertheless, I'm taking Captain Solo, his friends & her as well. As far as I'm concerned slavery is something that should have ended on this planet a long time ago. You can either profit by this or be destroyed. It's your choice, but I warn you not to underestimate my powers." Jabba was becoming more angry minute by minute. Oola then noticed that Luke was standing on the trap door that led to the pit. "Skywalker you're standing on the.." Before she could finish her sentence Jabba yanked her chain again, proclaiming that there would be no bargain. Soon Jabba activates the trap door Luke is standing on that leads to the pit dungeon. Luke drops down below along with a gamorrean guard who grabbed him. After they both land in the pit, Oola watches in terror as Jabba's pet Rancor is unleashed upon them. She whined in disgust when she saw the gamorrean guard get eaten. But became frightened for Luke when the Rancor turned its attention to him. However Luke battled the Rancor in the pit, amazing Oola regarding his bravery towards the beast. Eventually when Luke was cornered, he grabbed a humanoid skull & threw it at the button on the wall which resulted in the pit gate coming down on the Rancor's head, killing it. Oola was beyond astounded. He had killed the Rancor! She cheered for him which resulted in Jabba pulling her leash even harder. He was very upset that his favorite pet beast had died. Jabba sentences Luke, Han, Leia & Chewbacca to death by having them delivered to the Sarlacc Pit, where they will digested for a thousand years. The next day Jabba travels the Dune Sea in his sail barge to the Sarlacc Pit. Bringing with him Oola, C-3PO & R2-D2. They soon arrive to the pit and Luke gives him one last chance to free them or die. Jabba of course doesn't listen & orders for them to be executed. Luke gives the signal to R2-D2 to launch his lightsaber. He grabs it & begins fighting back against Jabba's forces, along with his friends (including Lando who was disguised as a palace guard) Oola watches in amazement realizing that Luke Skywalker is an actual Jedi & that Jabba is powerless against him. Oola was now inspired. She was ready to fight back against her oppressor. To rebel! She immediately grabbed a statuette & used it to smash the control panel which threw the observation deck into darkness. Jabba was scared & confused, as he should be. Suddenly Oola wrapped her leash around Jabba's bulbous neck & began to tightly strangle him. She pulled harder, remembering all the terrible things he had done to her. Pulling even harder, for every time he hurt her, starved her, had her beaten & violated her for his perverse pleasure. And now he would die by the very distasteful object he had forced her to wear around her neck for a year. Jabba roared with rage, realizing he would die at the hands of a slave. With one last tight pull...Jabba was dead. It was finally done. Oola had avenged herself. R2-D2 soon cut Oola's leash off & she immediately made her way up to the deck where Luke instructed her to get the barge gun & point it at the deck (which in turn would cause the sail barge to explode once fired) Oola hangs on to Luke as he swings them both over the the skiff controlled by his friends, soon collecting the droids & leave as the sail barge explodes into flames. Oola thanks & hugs Luke for rescuing her as he leaves for Dagobah to visit Master one last time. Meanwhile Oola is taken back to Home One, where she gets some fresh new clothes. Later during the mission briefing for Endor, she willingly volunteers to join the rebels when they go to the Endor planet (wanting to make a difference in the galaxy) Suddenly Luke comes in & Oola is excited to see him as he is to see her. The two talk about how differently their lives changed in the past few years (Luke once a farm boy now a rebel Jedi knight fighting for the galaxy's freedom & Oola once a chieftain's daughter on Ryloth & a slave girl, is now a rebel fighter seeking the same freedom) Oola tells Luke that he means much to the galaxy & to her. While she was enslaved at Jabba's Palace she had almost no hope, but then she heard the stories about Luke Skywalker; a simple farm boy from the same planet who fought against the Empire & became a Jedi. Something Oola thought was only a myth. But he was no myth. He was real & perhaps her freedom could be too. This lifted her spirits so much so that she performed her best dances (thinking about Luke Skywalker) Luke after hearing this becomes very emotionally attached to Oola. The two soon share a deep passionate kiss but have to break away for the mission. Unknown to Luke, Palpatine can feel the intense connection forming between Luke & Oola and has a plan to use it for his goal to turn Luke to the darkside. Oola's team on Endor soon get ambushed by a Death Trooper squad who kill everyone else except her. She's soon transported back to the Death Star. Later Luke is taken there too, after surrendering himself to Vader (in hopes to turn his father back to the light side) Palpatine tells Luke that his father can't be saved & that the shield generator location being leaked was his plan & that the whole mission was a trap set by Palpatine himself. The Emperor then signals the guards to bring out Oola (who is now bound in cuffslinks) and is forced to sit below Palpatine (like a slave again) He knows how much Luke cares for her already & how far he'll go to protect her. He tells him how Oola will be his personal slave & how she will serve him greatly. This causes Luke to strike but Vader protects his master. During the battle Vader tells Luke that he can't be saved from the darkside & that the only way to save Oola is to embrace it. Vader begins to slowly force choke Oola, in hopes of making Luke give in to hatred & fear. This causes Luke to go dark, screaming "LEAVE HER ALONE!!!" He attacks Vader violently, cutting off his cybernetic hand. Palpatine tells him to finish Vader off & take his father's place by the Emperor's side. Oola fearing what Luke is turning into tells him "Luke...No. No. Don't become him. Not after everything you've done for me. For them! For the entire galaxy. Not you" Luke after hearing Oola's pleas looks at his own robotic hand & realizes Oola is right. This is not the Jedi way. Luke refuses to kill his father or turn to the darkside. proclaiming himself a Jedi just like his father. Palpatine realizing he's failed, begins attacking Luke with his force lightning and does the same to Oola when she tries to intervene. As Vader watches his son & his son's friend slowly dying he turns back to the light & kills the Emperor. Luke & Oola carry Vader back to the shuttle till he demands that Luke removes his mask, so he can look upon his son's face with his own eyes. Luke takes it off and the two stare at each other. Vader tells them both to go, saying that Luke already saved him & that he was right about him. Vader/Anakin soon dies & Luke grieves with Oola who hugs him tightly. Together they fly away from the Death Star just as the rebels led by Lando, blow it up as the shield gets taken down on Endor thanks to Solo, Leia, Chewbacca & the Ewoks. Back on Endor Luke gives his father a jedi funeral via fire pyre. Wondering if he could have saved him. Oola holds his hand tightly watching the flames. Meanwhile our heroes are having a full celebration with the Ewoks regarding the fall of the Empire & the return of the Republic as well as the Jedi. Luke sees the force ghosts of Obi-Wan, Master Yoda & his father Anakin Skywalker, smiling knowingly at him. During the party, Oola decides to perform the best dance of her life for Luke (With the Ewoks playing music & her wearing a ceremonial dress that they gave to her) after completing her amazing performance, Luke & Oola hold each other & kiss one last time. THE END...possibly. NOTE: This is simply a blueprint for a fanfic idea. Feel free to be inspired to use or write your version of these events & may the Force be with you.