Armphid
Crowned Sun
- Joined
- May 18, 2003
- Posts
- 9,831
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...
STAR WARS
Slaves of the Force
ACT I
STAR WARS
Slaves of the Force
ACT I
It is a dark time for the Galactic Republic. Still recovering from the last war with the vile Sith Empire, the Republic faces dangers from within and without. Certain that another war is inevitable despite the Treaty of Coruscant, Republic forces rebuilt and seek new allies and weapons for the fight to come.
On the city-moon NAR SHADAA, a careful game is played by both galactic superpowers in the neutral space of the vicious and sinister gangsters known as the Hutts. Valiant Republic agents and soldiers work to safeguard bio-technology and badly needed supplies that could tip the balance of power, all while avoiding Imperial spies and trying to avoid offending the powerful criminal overlords who rule the pirate's moon.
But the Force works in ways no one can anticipate, and now one elite Republic lieutenant battles criminals and Imperials alike, not knowing what awaits her and how it and the mysterious man who will be at the core of coming events will change her forever and may shape the fate of the galaxy....
Nar Shadaa was never quiet. Speeders zipped through the air and soared overhead, the dim roar of starship engines lifting vessels out of the atmosphere, endless music and advertisements broadcasted round the clock, the thrum of power coursing through conduits, and more all served to create a steady background noise that might grow at times or lessen at others, but that never went away. In the brighter, richer, and more tourist friendly areas there was also laughter, giggling shrieks, cat calls, and the noises of a debauched good time. Where the lit was dimmer, there was still some laughter but more often there were screams, shouts, and most nights, blaster fire.
But even the fire that was normally heard was not like tonight. Careful, coordinated shooting broke the silence, punctuated with the sounds of explosions, and the relentless whirring roar of heavier weaponry. Slum dwellers fled screaming, some falling from errant bolts, or hunkered down in the apartments and hovels of the area and hoped the war that had erupted in their streets soon passed.
A few fires burned as a small group of men wearing form fitting black and red armor rushed from one point of cover to another, blaster rifles cradled in their arms. As they ran, that strange whirring roar came again and a hail of blaster bolts streaked through them, cutting down half their number before they reached the cover of an bunch of discarded shipping containers. Past it the street lifted into an incline and then a raised platform; atop that platform was a loaded transport speeder; scorch marks on it from where their fire had struck.
At the apex of the incline was the lone obstacle in reaching the transport and seizing the valuable cargo of medicines, implants, and combat stimulants that it carried. Lieutenant Zadei Orlandau of Crash Squad, Republic Special Forces stood at the edge of the landing/loading platform, her generously curvaceous body wrapped in hardened high-tech plasteel, a bandolier of ammo and grenades slung over one shoulder, and a massive assault cannon held in an underslung style with both hands. Her armor was scorched here and there, she'd taken a few shots from the Imps but her gear had held up. Her helmet had saved her from a pair of lethal shots to the head, but been so damaged she couldn't see out of it, forcing her to cast it aside.
Zadei was a human woman, a few inches taller than average, with healthy cream colored skin, bright green eyes, and shoulder length orange-red hair currently pulled back into a ponytail, a few errant bangs falling to one side of her forehead. Her face was lovely, beautiful even when not smudged with oil and soot; her cheek bones high and her features fine and delicate, her lips plush and ripe. Her armor hid her body well but even it showed that her figure was ample and plush, despite her hard training and physical prowess.
The voice of the transport's pilot cracked out of her earpiece, "Lieutenant, we're ready to go! The back's still open, climb in and we're gone!"
"Negative," she replied. "Without cover fire, it'll be the shortest flight in Nar Shadaa history. They'll shoot us out of the air before we've gone 10 meters." She fired off another barrage from the advanced squad heavy weapon she carried; dozens of blasts slamming into the cover the Imperials were using and keeping them pinned for the moment. "Get out of here now! I'll cover your getaway!" She let the weapon dip for a moment as she pulled a sticky grenade from her bandolier, "That's an order, soldier!"
"Yes, sir," the man's voice came back. The transport shuddered as the repulsors under it fired to life and lifted it up off the ground a few meters. "I'll radio in and get some support, we'll be back for you."
"You better," Zadei smirked, "If I have to walk back to the embassy I'm taking it out on you." She triggered the grenade and threw it to the right of the Imps' cover, the high tech munition not bouncing but sticking to where it struck. She hefted her gun in both hands again, mentally counting down, though the grenade wouldn't catch them. It'd just make them move or get blown up; right into her line of fire.
The pilot's response was lost as the vehicle's engines fired up and lifted it up and away, soaring with slow grace away from the firefight. As it moved, the remaining Imperials bolted from cover, a mere moment before the grenade went off. They lifted their rifles but Zadei was already firing. She smiled grimly as she walked a steady stream of bolts across the enemy, emptying the rest of her weapon's rounds into the trio of remaining troops.
They fell, but as they did so, the arm of one came forward and her eyes went wide as she saw the grenade he threw arcing right for her. Time seemed to slow as she dropped her cannon and turned to run, one stride, two, thr-
The grenade hit and went off; the shockwave hurling her up briefly and forward to slam down into the ground, rolling with the impact. She felt several stabs of pain as shrapnel pierced her armor and then her flesh. "Agh...damn it!"
She sat up, wincing and moving a hand to try and find where she was hit. Her eyes looked up, scanning for the transport...there it was! Safe and away, well out of weapons' range from here. "Mission accomplished." The commando grunted and tried to stand, ony to fall back down to her knees. "Unh!" She must have been hit worse that she thought...
Her head felt heavy all of a sudden and her eyes wanted to close. No! She wasn't about to die here! Zadei fumbled for the last medpac in her belt, but it tumbled from her strangely clumsy fingers. "Sithspawn!"
She heard voices and turned her to look but she couldn't make out whoever was approachingl her vision was too blurry. But not Imps, she could tell that much. Had her backup gotten here? "Took you...long...enou-"
She fell forward into black unconsciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zadei was moving...no, being carried. She could feel hands holding both of her arms, holding her suspended between two beings, her feet occasionally dragging on the ground. There was a faint buzz of noise that sounded as if it were coming from behind a closed door. Maybe music and voices? She felt no pain; not even an ache from her injuries. She did feel a bit cold...fuck! Her armor was gone! She felt air on bare skin and with a start realized she was wearing only her bra and panties.
Her eyes flew open, only to find that she was blindfolded. She tried to move but found her body sluggish to respond. A voice came from her left, "I didn't think she'd make it. I owe Yann 20 credits."
Whoever was holding her on the right, a male by the voice, answered, "The doc's good, and the meds did their thing. Boss said he wanted this one, you know the doc wasn't stupid enough to let her die."
There was the sound of a door opening and warmth suddenly flooded over Zadei as the males carrying her bore her forward. It was brightly lit wherever she was, she could tell even through the blindfold, and lively music was playing. There were voices, lots of them, talking, laughing, a general buzz of conversation though as she was carried through wherever this was, it lessened as she and her bearers passed by.
Out of her armor, the lushness of her body was revealed. Her breasts were full and rounded and very large, the size of her head; they heaved and seemed to strain her bra as she breathed rapidly in shock and mild fear. Her stomach was flat and taut and her waist was trim, though not waspish or slender. Her hips were round and her ass was ample and plush; her legs were supple and shapely, her body bare of hair save for what was on her head and a well trimmed patch between her legs, though that could not yet be seen. She was fit and trim still, her muscles firm, hard, and well trained under the softness of her skin and her curves.
Finally, whoever was carrying her came to a halt. The male on her right cleared his throat and then spoke, "Boss, we brought her."