you head to the Jedi temple to tell them their duties
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"Attention!"
Both warriors snap instantly upright despite Satine's face being buried between Padmé's thighs. They stand at rigid military attention, Satine's lips still glistening with Padmé's arousal.
"You're married now," you declare flatly. "Legal and binding. You can have a ceremony later if you want the pageantry. To celebrate, get into sixty-nine position and eat each other out until one or both of you passes out."
"Yes, Empress," they chorus in perfect unison, immediately dropping to the floor. Padmé positions herself on top, her mouth descending to Satine's pussy while Satine's tongue finds Padmé's clit again. Within seconds they're both moaning desperately, hips grinding as they devour each other.
You smirk and leave them to it.
The Jedi Temple thrums with sexual energy as you arrive. Transformed Jedi sprawl everywhere—across meditation platforms, against pillars, in doorways. Enhanced breasts bounce as women grind together, mouths working between spread thighs, fingers pumping into eager holes. The air fills with moans and wet sounds.
The four Force gods materialize before you simultaneously. Order's silver hair catches the light as she kneels, Chaos beside her with enhanced curves barely contained in revealing robes, Lumos radiating healing energy, Noctis's purple-gold eyes assessing threats automatically.
"Empress," they say together, voices harmonizing.
"Council chambers," you command. "Now."
The orgy continues unabated as you pass through. A Twi'lek Jedi rides another's face while a Togruta pounds fingers into her from behind. Three more form a chain, tongues working systematically.
The council chambers hold the transformed council members—Master Yoda now appearing as a diminutive elf with pointed ears and silver hair, still female like all other transformations. Master Windu displays Togruta montrals and grotesquely enhanced breasts. Obi-Wan's Twi'lek lekku frame delicate features and enormous curves.
They all kneel immediately upon your entrance.
"Your new duties," you state without preamble. "Six primary functions. One: disaster relief across all systems. Two and three: healing for both body and mind—medical treatment and psychological therapy. Four: unbiased mediation for disputes at any level. Five: criminal investigation authority when individually interested or when requested by police forces. Six: special operations under Fleet Admiral Gion's direct military command, which means firearms training in addition to lightsaber proficiency."
Order nods, processing the organizational structure. "Training protocols?"
"Padawan status requires eighteen years minimum age. Knight status requires mastery of three duties plus Force understanding as judged by you four and Lufas. Master status requires mastery of all six duties plus even higher Force comprehension, again judged by you and Lufas."
Chaos grins. "Finally, actual fucking standards instead of vague philosophical horseshit."
Lumos considers the healing mandate. "We'll establish medical facilities across every major system."
Noctis's tactical mind engages immediately. "Firearms training will require complete restructuring of combat doctrine. I'll coordinate with Gion directly."
Master Yoda—now diminutive elf Yoda—speaks with the same gravelly voice despite the dramatic physical changes. "Clear these duties are. Serve the galaxy we shall, without the paralysis of endless debate."