C57 Late Night Visitor

C57 Late Night Visitor

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Not long after he was paraded through the streets of Knowhere and subsequently locked up in the palace, the news of Jabba the Hutt's capture spread like wildfire across the Outer Rim.

In dingy cantinas, bustling marketplaces, and secluded hideouts, whispers turned into heated debates about the audacious act of a man calling himself Star-Lord, who seized control of Knowhere and dared to capture a Hutt.

The reactions varied as wildly as the planets they originated from—some hailed Star-Lord as a hero, a liberator of sorts, while others condemned him as a foolhardy renegade whose actions could ignite a war with the powerful Hutt clans.

On Tatooine, the suns set in a blaze of orange and crimson, casting long shadows over the dusty, windswept plains of Mos Espa.

Amidst the small hovels and crowded streets, the news reached a young Anakin Skywalker and his mother, Shmi, still toiling under the harsh rule of their owner, Watto.

Anakin, a curious and bright, blue-eyed child, overheard snippets of conversation while he helped Watto in his junk shop.

[Insert picture of young Anakin Skywalker here]

His Toydarian master was animatedly discussing the event with a customer, his wings buzzing with excitement. "Jabba caught by some nobody? Ha! That’s not possible. Though if it’s true, it’s definitely bad for business. Who knows what the Hutts will do?"

[Insert picture of Watto here]

Shmi, on the other hand, heard the news from a group of fellow slaves as she made a delivery for Watto. The women shared cautious hope, their voices a mix of fear and optimism. "Perhaps things will change now," one murmured. "Jabba was cruel. His absence might spur the Republic to come and clean things up around here..."

"Sure, as if that would ever happen..." another slave muttered skeptically, well aware how unlikely that truly was.

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Anakin, unable to keep his questions to himself any longer, tugged at Shmi’s sleeve later that evening as they sat down for their meager dinner. "Mama, who’s Star-Lord? And why did he capture Jabba? Is he a hero?"

Shmi, smoothing his hair back, pondered how to explain the complicated dynamics of the outer rim to her son. Ultimately, she chose to fabricate a comforting story to offer him some hope. After all, it’s not like they’ll ever meet Star-Lord, especially if the Hutts decide to retaliate.

"Star-Lord comes from a place way beyond the twinkly stars we see when we look up at the night sky. He did something very brave and very bold. He’s a hero who fights for freedom and justice. He went after Jabba because he knew how cruelly the Hutts treat people, keeping them as slaves and spreading fear. He wanted to stop him, to make sure that no one else would suffer under Jabba’s rule." Shmi spun a tail that any child, especially a slave child, would be captivated by.

"Will he come here and save us too?" Anakin’s eyes were wide with a mixture of awe and excitement.

Shmi sighed, her face lined with the weight of years of servitude. "I don’t know, my little star. But people like us, we can only watch and hope. We must be careful, though. Powerful beings fight above us, and too often, we are caught in the middle...”

...

As night deepened, Anakin lay in his bed, the stars twinkling through the small window beside him. The tales of heroes and villains whirled in his mind, intertwining with his dreams of freedom and adventure, far beyond the harsh deserts of Tatooine.

‘I hope Star-Lord comes to save us soon...’

————

Meanwhile, across the galaxy, in the shadowy corners of Nal Hutta, the news of Jabba’s capture reached his kin. The mood was somber and charged with a volatile energy. Clan leaders gathered, their heavy bodies shifting restlessly as they discussed the implications of Jabba's disgrace.

"We must respond," a massive Hutt growled in Huttese, his voice echoing in the dimly lit chamber. "This insult cannot go unanswered. The audacity of this Star-Lord—capturing one of our own! It's a declaration of war!"

Another older Hutt, his eyes narrowing, added, "Yes, but we must be cautious. This outsider seems even more daring than the Collector, and even he gave us problems... We need a plan, not just brute force."

The decision was heavy with consequences. Retaliation was inevitable, but the approach was yet to be determined. As the meeting disbanded, messengers were sent out into the night. Orders were given. The gears of war began to turn, slowly and steadily.

————

As the galaxy outside his floor-to-ceiling windows sparkled under the blanket of night, Peter lay awake, listening to music as his thoughts drifted through the recent events. ‘There’s so much I need to do, but I have to return to the Jedi soon...

Play Run Around Sue by Dion

Here's my story, it's sad but true

It's about a girl that I once knew

She took my love then ran around

With every single guy in town

Yeah, I should have known it from the very start

This girl would leave me with a broken heart

Now listen people what I'm telling you

A-keep away from-a Runaround Sue, yeah

I miss her lips and the smile on her face

The touch of her hand and this girl's warm embrace

So if you don't wanna cry like I do

A-keep away from-a Runaround Sue

...

..

.

As Peter’s mind was racing with thoughts of plans, possible Hutt attacks, and his coming Jedi Knighthood, suddenly, a faint rustle broke the silence of his quarters. His senses, honed by his Jedi training, immediately alerted him to another presence in the room.

Turning swiftly, he pulled off his headphones and caught sight of Oola, the Twi’lek dancer he had freed earlier, as she stealthily entered the room, her curvaceous body on full display.

"Why are you here, Oola? How did you even get into the palace?" Peter’s voice was calm but firm, cutting through the quiet of the room.

Oola, caught off guard and visibly embarrassed, hesitated before answering. "Umm... Carina agreed to hire me to help around the palace, so I live here now," she explained, her eyes widening as she saw his face for the first time.

'I'll have to discuss this with Carina later,' Peter frowned in thought. While he appreciated Oola's presence and understood Carina likely needed assistance with maintaining the palace, she can’t just let anyone she pleased inside without at least telling him first.

Sensing there was more to her presence, Peter pressed further. "And why are you here in my room, at this hour?" he asked, his gaze wandering along her exposed skin. “And naked, not that I mind though...”

Oola’s eyes flitted away for a moment before she met his gaze again, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I... I wanted to thank you," she began awkwardly, "for freeing me. I thought maybe I could... show my gratitude." Her voice trailed off suggestively.

But a second later, she paused, conflicted by Peter's youth beneath his mask. "I didn't realize you were so... young though," she said, her voice tinged with surprise yet carrying a resigned willingness borne from her past experiences pleasing Jabba's guests.

Instantly, Peter felt a stir of temptation; Oola was undeniably beautiful, and she reminded him of the Star Wars p*rn he’d seen in the past. Yet, he knew her gratitude was driving her actions, not genuine desire. He couldn’t, in good conscience, accept what she offered, even if he really wanted to...

"Oola, I appreciate it, but it’s probably best we don’t," Peter said gently, his tone resolute yet kind. "You don’t owe me anything. You’re free now, truly free, and that means making choices for yourself, not because you feel indebted."

Oola nodded, a mix of relief and shocked respect in her eyes, understanding his refusal as yet another act of kindness she would have to find a way to repay. "Thank you," she said softly, a genuine smile replacing her earlier embarrassment as she turned to leave, her spirit a little lighter.

Oola paused at the threshold, turning to glance back at Peter. Her voice was hesitant but warm. "Umm... goodnight."

Peter smiled, a gentle acknowledgment flickering across his features. "Goodnight, Oola. Rest well," he replied.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Peter reclined again, his mind somewhat soothed by his decision, yet now he was faced with a rather pressing issue...

Glancing at his right hand, Peter mumbled, "Looks like it's just you and me again, old friend..."

A/N: 2556 words :)