[F4M] The Bounty (May the 4th Star Wars special)

Transcript

Well, look who finally returned to the land of the living. Oh, don't try to get up. You're strapped into that seat pretty securely, and your hands are locked behind the back with a set of vibro-cuffs that are designed to shock if you struggle too much.

Well, that was a lot of questions at once, and rambled off very quickly. Let's see if we can address them all. First, where are you? Currently, you are strapped to the co-pilot seat of my ship, the Sun Chaser.

Don't laugh, it was already christened and registered when I acquired it, we'll say. So, I'm stuck with the name, for now. Where are we going? We are currently making our way out of the core systems and are about an hour away from the edge of the inner rim.

And next, who am I? I am a bounty hunter, and that's all you need to know. Someone put a bounty on your head that, well, the dead bounty was a joke, but the alive bounty, that's exorbitant.

It's do the job and retire early kind of money, and a girl can't pass up on an opportunity like that. No, no interruptions. I'm still answering your first round of questions.

Last up was, what the fuck is going on? I think it's pretty well covered, this whole bounty thing, but we're currently en route to the delivery location, at which point I'll hand you over, collect said exorbitant fee, and be on my merry way. Fucking civilians.

Anytime you mention the profession to anyone not involved in the business, and they invariably bring up the FET, look, nothing against the guy, but you do two or three high-profile political jobs, and suddenly you're the brand every schemo in the galaxy associates with the gig. We ain't all the FET. No, not a hot button.

It just gets annoying. I work hard to cultivate my reputation. In the profession, that's all you have.

Especially when you're a woman. But all anyone ever wants to talk about is one swinging cod and a set of stolen mand- You know what? Never mind.

Yes, of course I have a name. No, I don't really see any to tell you. Once I drop you off, that's all.

I'm betting the people that put the contact out on you want you alive so badly, either because A, they want information out of you, or B, they want to make an example out of you, or C, all of the above. Based on the credit figure of this bounty, I'm leaning towards option C, so chances of us ever meeting again are somewhere between none and none, seeing as how you'll likely be dead within 24 hours. Oh, I know who you are.

The bounty contract included a fairly in-depth dossier on you. Some kind of hotshot pilot. Flew smuggling missions for different clients, and even flew a few missions for the, what do you call it, rebel alliance.

It says you're smart, wily, and sneaky. And also, apparently, have a knack for getting yourself out of cages. Hence, why you're strapped to that chair instead of down in my holding cell.

I'm not taking my eyes off of you until you are safely delivered and I have money in hand. Oh, please. Catching you was the easy part.

Finding you was the challenge. With the size of this bounty, every bounty hunter worth their salt, and more than a few who aren't worth a damn, are scouring the Outer Rim looking for you. But, like I said, I read your dossier, and I knew you'd be smart enough to know that with a bounty this big, it's easier to hide under the Empire's nose than anywhere else in the Outer Rim.

Even with an Imperial warrant on your head. Granted, I'd never imagined I'd find you on fucking Coruscant. I mean, that's not hiding out under the Empire's nose, that's hiding in the belly of the goddamn beast.

You've got balls, I'll give you that. Well, once I tracked you to Coruscant, the rest was easy. I just had to wait for the right moment.

Well, let's see if this jogs your memory. Remember these? You fly boys, it's all too easy.

A friendly smile, an ample amount of cleavage, and you don't even think twice about taking a drink that's offered to you. Oh, come on now, I didn't poison you, I just drugged you a little. Enough to knock you out so I could drag you back to the Chaser, and we could be on our way.

Hey, I'm a resourceful woman. I'll use whatever tools I have available to get the job done. That's a reputation I've worked hard to cultivate.

Once I accept the bounty and I set my sights on you, I'll go to any edge of the galaxy to find you, no matter how long it takes. Lonely? What do you mean? No, I find my companionship when I need it.

Oh, you think maybe what I need is a more constant companion? Someone capable? Someone strong and smart? Someone who knows their way around a ship? Knows their way around the galaxy? Someone with resources? Like a spare ten million credits lying around? Jeez, Flyboy, you are so full of wampa shit, you know that? Oops, did I forget to mention that I have a remote for these cuffs? Oh, relax, that was the lowest setting.

It's just designed to get your attention. If I crank this thing halfway, it'll knock you out. Probably for the rest of the trip.

If I set it all the way to eleven, well. .. Yes, that's right.

I know about the ten mil. The dossier, remember? Apparently, the clients wanted everyone to know that they wanted you alive because you stole ten million credits.

Dumb move, actually. I'm sure half the hunters looking for you right now are just in the hopes of making a better deal with you. But I don't think that means you can bribe me or some shit.

That's usually what comes next after the begging or coercion or. .. I'm assuming that was an attempt at seduction.

Seriously, does that nonsense actually work where you come from? I mean, do women actually fall for that shit? Yeah, I bet.

But like I said, I've got a rep to protect. Word gets around that I can be bribed, bought, cajoled, or. ..

seduced out of a bounty. And I might as well hang up my blaster and go back to shaking my ass at Tosche Station. Yes, I used to be a dancer.

I was part of a dancing troupe called the Power Converters, and. .. You know what? Never mind.

It doesn't matter. Wanna run that by me again, flyboy? Are you being fucking serious right now? In that chair, with you still cuffed, you're suggesting what exactly? That I climb over there and get in your lap and give you a show like the old days? Let me guess, you expect me to just grind on you for a little while? Maybe things get a little frisky and all, what, just unzip your pants and see where it leads? I'm sure it's impressive.

At least to all those farm girls back home. But truth is, flyboy, I've been with all kinds. Hell, I even took a tumble with a wookie once.

And trust me, that fur hides a lot. So unless you're trying to tell me you've got some, like, Rancor Tusk stuffed in your pants. ..

Not really seeing the upside for me here. Yes, I did say that you'd likely be dead in 24 hours. The huts are like that.

One last hurrah. The final wish of a dead spacer walking. Oh, you'd just love that, wouldn't you? If I just slid out of this seat and made my way over in front of you.

Maybe unzip this jacket a little further. Give you even more of an eyeful than you got in the bar earlier. The sway of my hips a little.

I'll show you some of the old moves as I inch a little closer and a little closer. And then finally slide into your lap and grind against this supposedly impressive member of yours. Or better yet, how about I get up and turn around and stick this nice ass in your face as I bend over.

Maybe turn this up a little and. .. Aww, well look who finally decided to join us again.

Relax, you're in my holding cell. Whoa, whoa, easy there, not too close. See that energy barrier over the door? It's rated to withstand a thermal detonator and hot enough to disintegrate anything that touches it, so best to keep a safe distance.

Wouldn't want to burn anything off by accident. We finally made it to the edge of the inner rim, so I could just make the jump to lightspeed. Had to wait until we were out of the core systems before making the jump.

Well, yes, technically, I could have made the jump from anywhere in the core, but the contract was very specific about no Imperial entanglements, probably due to the Warren out on you, and nothing raises the Empire's attention quite like an unscheduled lightspeed jump out of the core. I couldn't exactly register a flight plan or get permits, because that would involve listing you on the manifest, and, well, with the aforementioned Warrant. Yes, yes, we're in hyperspace on our way to the rendezvous now.

Course is plotted and everything's locked in, so I didn't need to stay in the cockpit. Figured we'd both be a little more comfortable down here. At least you don't have to wear the cuffs anymore.

But before you get any bright ideas, the only way out of that cell is through the door with that energy barrier, and the only way to deactivate that is with one of these two buttons. These two identical, unmarked buttons. So even if your devious little brain devises some method for trying to activate said buttons, you've still got, at best, a 50-50 chance.

See, one button deactivates the barrier, the other fills the cell with a gas that will knock you unconscious in under 20 seconds. Not that you can reach them from in there anyway, but. ..

At this point, um, about an hour. We've got some time to kill, actually. I'm kind of glad you woke up.

I was getting kind of boring. Hyperspace jumps are like that. I hate being bored on jumps, so.

.. How about you whip out that so-called impressive cock of yours and keep me entertained? Oh no, not like that, Flyboy.

You're staying nice and cozy in that holding cell, but you seemed to be so intent on some kind of last hurrah earlier. So how about you whip it out and put on a little show for me? I mean, I did give you at least a little glimpse of my old dancing skills before I zapped you into unconsciousness, so how's about you return the favor?

A little incentive? You're the one that wanted to get your rocks off. Besides, based on what I was feeling, you've got plenty of incentive up in the cockpit earlier.

I'm always serious, except when I'm not. But yes, I mean it. I get bored on long jumps, and this seems like a good way to pass the time, so.

.. Fine. How about this? How about I take the jacket all the way off? This shirt isn't exactly see-through, but the fabric's pretty thin, and you seemed to enjoy the cut of the neckline earlier.

What the hell is a bra? Whatever. So here you go.

I'll even shake them around for you. That enough to prime your hyperdrive, flyboy? That's it.

Take it out. Show me what you've got. Well then.

I mean, you're no Wookiee, but still. Not bad. Oh, I can see it's not fully there yet, still.

You flyboys always wanting more. How about I come a little closer? Maybe lean over a little? Tug the neckline of this shirt down a little more? Well that certainly seems to have helped matters.

Yeah, looking much better now. Oh, that's it. Stroke it for me.

Nice and slow. Show me how much my tits turn you on. Hmm.

Damn. That's pretty fucking hot, flyboy. Yeah, that's it.

Spin your hand a little. Get it nice and wet. Stroke that fuckin' collar.

Stroke that fuckin' cock for me. Fuck. Damn.

Damn, flyboy, you're getting a little worked up here. Not that you fucking deserve it, but maybe you get a little more. I really want to play with my tits right now.

I'd bet you'd like that. Fine. Here you go.

Just pull these puppies out and rub my hands all over them. Wow, that really had an effect. Your hands suddenly got a little faster there.

You like my tits. Like how I play with them? Pinch the nipples.

Damn. I think I need to. ..

Calm down, flyboy. I'm not going anywhere. Just grabbing a chair so I can sit and really enjoy the show.

There we go. Now I can get nice and close. Oh, you like that, huh? Now it looks like I'm lying under you.

You big, strong man towering over me with your impressive cock in your hand. You really are a simple creature, aren't you? Well, there you go, big boy.

I'm leaning back here, my tits out, my hands rubbing all over my body, just waiting for you to shoot that big fucking load all over me. Maker, you are easy to fuck with. Join you? I told you, flyboy.

I'm keeping that energy barrier between you and me at all times. Oh, you mean. ..

Maybe I just. .. Unzip my pants a little.

.. Slide a hand down inside and. ..

I'll rub myself a little too. Is that what you mean? I think it is, judging by how furiously you just started stroking yourself.

My. .. Shit.

No. Keep going, flyboy. It's just, well.

.. My fingers have never really been enough. They're not quite long enough to reach where I need them to.

Nice try. But thankfully, I have a solution. I have a bunch of solutions, actually.

Hmm, let's see here. .. Hard 2D2? No.

Emperor Palpitation? No. Darth Vader? The helmet is nice, but nah.

Bone Trooper? No. Oh, the Wrinkler Tusk.

Uh, yeah, just not really prepared for that one today. Vibellium Falcon? Whatever the fuck that is.

No. Princess Leia or Cas? No.

The various extensions are nice, but not a little much. Oh, there we go. The Cut Dooku.

That'll work. What? It's slick and shiny and has a really nice curve to it.

Besides, my choice, not yours, flyboy. Just keep stroking over there. Ah, Dooku, you've never let me down.

Now then. Hmm. Well, I guess it's your lucky day, flyboy.

I can't exactly use this with my pants on. Although, I suppose I can turn the chair to the side so I can still watch you, but you can't see. Oh, how did I know you were going to argue against that idea? Fine, flyboy.

You get a show, too. Now then. Oh yeah, you like that, flyboy? You like the way I lick and suck on this? I'm just imagining it's that cock of yours instead.