Chapter 301
The palace greeted us with controlled chaos and opulent excess. Lights blazed from every alcove and chandelier, casting warm golden hues across the stone walls. Hundreds of sentient beings filled the passageways and spilled into the central throne room, where Jabba the Hutt reclined like a mountain of glistening flesh on his massive slab. Light, unobtrusive music drifted through the air — a smooth blend of low strings and rhythmic percussion that felt almost soothing after the desert heat.
At the entrance to the main hall, we were met by a pale-skinned Twi'lek with sharpened teeth and a calculating gaze.
"Follow me, gentlemen," Bib Fortuna said smoothly, gesturing with a long-fingered hand.
He led us up a narrow staircase to what appeared to be a private balcony or attic box overlooking the central hall. Two similar boxes sat to our left and right, offering excellent views while maintaining a degree of separation from the main crowd.
"Make yourself comfortable," Fortuna said, flashing his shark-like smile. "You are the guests of honor this evening. Relax and enjoy yourselves."
"We thank Jabba for the honor," I replied with a polite nod, dismissing the majordomo. I dropped onto the luxurious sofa with a tired sigh. Zule carefully sat down beside me, her red-orange skin catching the warm light.
"Wow, there are so many different races here," she murmured, leaning forward to take in the view. Her eyes widened at the eclectic crowd below. Suddenly she pointed. "Oh, Teacher, who is that?"
"Krokozyabra," I answered absently, staring at the bizarre reptilian creature with too many limbs and what looked like a miniature throne strapped to its back.
"What the… thing is this?!" Zule asked, eyes wide.
"Croco… what?" I echoed, snapping out of my thoughts.
"I don't know what kind of weirdo that is," I admitted. "But he's clearly intelligent — listen to the Force."
Zule concentrated for a moment, then nodded. "Well, yes… I feel it. Why don't you know who it is?"
"The galaxy is big," I answered vaguely. She seemed satisfied with that.
At that moment, several servants entered our private box. While one lowered the gauzy curtains for privacy, others brought in trays of food and clear pitchers filled with chilled drinks. In the center of the low table they placed a platter of lightly fried shellfish that were still faintly wriggling.
Down below, the musicians struck up a stronger rhythm — a lively mix that sounded like jazz fused with rock 'n' roll. Live music. I hadn't heard anything like it in a long time. Then several dancers spilled into the open space in the center of the hall, twirling and spinning with fluid grace.
"Master… is this even edible?" Zule whispered, eyeing the twitching shellfish with clear suspicion.
"You're something else," I teased, reaching for the tray. "And you're a predator, too." I picked up one of the mollusks trying to crawl away and examined it. "Cool thing. Looks edible." I knew it was, but my memory stubbornly refused to supply the exact taste.
I broke off the head, sucked out the contents, and braced for something unpleasant.
Instead…
"Damn it… this is Rolton with chicken flavor!" I almost choked on my own saliva. "Just a little sausage here and a mug of black tea… with sugar!"
The music swelled. Memories flooded in — both the life I had lived before arriving in this galaxy and the seven brutal months since. The vivid ones hurt the most because so little of it had been pleasant. The Sky River was no fairy tale. It was a cruel, grinding reality. People had tried to kill me, maim me. I had lost an arm. Scars now decorated my face and chest that would likely never fully fade. Wounds from the dark side were notoriously difficult to heal.
Zule sensed the shift in my mood. She quietly placed her hand on my shoulder, a silent reminder that she was there.
"Damn it," I muttered. "I didn't think it would be this hard… It would be nice to get away from all this for a little while. Just relax. From the war, from studying, from all these petty responsibilities… Yeah… Dreams are dreams because they're hard to achieve, and when you achieve them, there's a risk of losing the meaning of life."
I smiled wryly, poured myself a full mug of something strongly alcoholic, and drained it in one go, chasing it with a piece of sweet fruit.
"And there's nothing I can do about this situation," I continued quietly. "I'll have to go against all odds, overcome every obstacle, and maybe someday I'll be able to… I don't know exactly what I'll be able to do, but I know for sure — it will be my way, and no other way."
Zule's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Master," she said, pointing toward the entrance of the box.
A servant had entered, followed by a stunning Twi'lek girl with a warm yellow tint to her skin. She moved with effortless grace, collar glinting at her throat.
"Master Jabba sends you his best dancer to delight your eyes with her dance," the servant announced.
At that moment the musicians changed the tune to something livelier. A singer launched into a cheerful ditty, and the Twi'lek girl began to dance. The movements weren't overly complex, but they were so graceful and sensual that it was breathtaking. For a while, both Zule and I were lost in contemplation. Even Ahsoka would have been captivated by the fluid pirouettes and hypnotic sway of her hips.
After some time, Zule leaned closer and whispered, "Master… this girl… is she a slave?" She gestured to the distinctive collar around the dancer's neck.
"More likely," I replied quietly.
"But… we have to do something, right? It's our duty…"
"What duty?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
"Well… before the Republic! The Jedi don't condone slavery."
"The Jedi — maybe. But the Republic approves."
"How so?!"
"Oh shit… I'm going to have to give a lecture."
I took a slow breath and explained as gently as I could. "Just so you know, the Republic, despite all its lofty proclamations against slavery, readily accepts into its ranks societies notorious for slave trading across almost the entire galaxy. Take Ryloth, for example. Slavery there is practically legalized and serves as a major source of government revenue. Yet Ryloth has been part of the Republic for over ten thousand years. The Republic is quite comfortable with this state of affairs."
Zule looked stunned. "But…"
"Yes, the Jedi combat outright cruelty toward slaves — take the operation against the Zygerrian slavers, for example. But that's an isolated incident. The Republic has no real complaints about slavery within Hutt territory."
"Why is that?"
"For Hutts, a slave isn't just a thing — it's money. Big money. Sometimes really big money. A dancer like her," I nodded toward the Twi'lek, "can cost several hundred thousand credits. At auction, if a particularly outstanding specimen appears, the price can climb into the millions. Even the cheapest slave represents an investment. And it's not customary to throw money away — or covet someone else's. In Hutt Space, no one in their right mind would beat or damage another's slave. It promises big trouble from both the owner and the Hutts themselves. Such individuals are… not welcome here."
I paused, then continued more softly. "However, many beings enter slavery consciously. Sometimes entire races do. The Klatooinians, for example. According to an ancient treaty, they became the Hutts' eternal slaves. For over twenty-five thousand years they have served as soldiers and laborers, not considering their position humiliating. The Hutts protect them, feed them, and care for them. The Vodrans are in the same situation. There were others too. What's more, a large portion of the Hutt fleet is staffed by slaves — and they will fight fiercely for their masters."
Zule sat in stunned silence, her earlier idealism clearly shaken.
"Why would they take such steps…?" she asked quietly.
"The reasons vary," I said. "The Klatooinians sought protection from the Hutts and received it — at a price. As a result, their race thrives instead of going extinct like so many others. The Twi'leks faced overpopulation and food shortages on Ryloth. They began selling their women, who are wildly popular across the galaxy. Some beings even hope for nothing more than to become slaves. Otherwise they would simply be killed or starved."
Zule didn't reply. She simply stared down at the dancing Twi'lek girl, her expression troubled.
The conversation ended there. The music continued. The celebration swirled on below us.
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**Scene 2**
Later that evening, after the main festivities had begun to wind down and most guests were lost in drink and revelry, I decided it was time for a little private punishment for Zule.
She had earned it — her emotions were understandable, but she still needed calming. And what better way than with the help of a hot dancer and a touch of yuri indulgence?
I leaned over and whispered in her ear, voice low and commanding. "You've been tense all evening, padawan. Watching that dancer… I saw how your eyes followed her. How your body responded. You need release. And I'm going to give it to you."
Zule's breath hitched. Her red-orange skin flushed darker. "Master…"
I signaled to the servant who had brought the dancer earlier. A few quiet words and a generous credit chit later, the stunning yellow-skinned Twi'lek was escorted into our private box, curtains drawn fully closed for privacy.
The girl — her name was Melora — moved with the same graceful sensuality she had shown on the floor below. She approached Zule first, sensing the dynamic instantly. Her hands were gentle as she began to dance for us alone, hips swaying, lekku curling invitingly.
Zule's eyes darkened with desire. I sat back on the sofa, watching as Melora slowly peeled away the outer layers of Zule's robe, revealing smooth red-orange skin. The Twi'lek dancer leaned in, pressing soft kisses along Zule's neck while her hands explored the curves of her breasts and waist.
Zule gasped, head tilting back. "Master… this is…"
"Shh," I murmured, voice husky. "Just feel. You've been so good today. Let her help you relax."
Melora guided Zule down onto the wide cushions, her mouth trailing lower, kissing and licking across Zule's stomach until she reached the apex of her thighs. Zule moaned loudly as the Twi'lek's tongue found her most sensitive spot, licking and sucking with practiced skill.
I moved behind Zule, supporting her upper body against my chest. My hand cupped one of her breasts, thumb circling the hardened nipple while I kissed the side of her neck.
"Look at you," I whispered hotly in her ear. "So beautiful when you're falling apart like this."
Zule's hips bucked against Melora's mouth. The Twi'lek dancer was relentless — tongue flicking rapidly over Zule's clit while two fingers slid deep inside her, curling to hit that perfect spot.
"Oh Force… yes…" Zule whimpered, one hand tangling in Melora's lekku, the other reaching back to grip my thigh.
I kissed her deeply, swallowing her cries as her body tensed and then shattered. Her orgasm crashed through her, thighs trembling, inner walls clenching around Melora's fingers as she came hard.
Melora didn't stop. She gentled her movements, drawing out every aftershock until Zule was a boneless, panting mess between us.
When Zule finally caught her breath, she looked up at me with hooded, grateful eyes.
"Your turn to watch," she whispered, voice husky with renewed hunger.
She pulled Melora up and kissed her passionately, tasting herself on the Twi'lek's lips. Then Zule pushed the dancer onto her back and returned the favor with eager, hungry licks and sucks, her restored hand sliding between Melora's legs to stroke and tease.
I watched, arousal burning hot as Zule brought the beautiful Twi'lek to a shuddering climax, Melora's lekku thrashing and soft cries filling the private box.
When both women were spent and glowing, Zule crawled back into my arms, pressing lazy kisses to my scarred chest.
"Thank you, Master," she murmured sleepily. "For this… and for still being here."
I held her close, one arm around her, the other gently stroking Melora's back as the dancer curled up on Zule's other side.
The celebration continued downstairs, but in our private box, the three of us found a small pocket of peace and pleasure amid the chaos of war and politics.
For tonight, at least, the galaxy could wait.
Chapter 301 ends.