KYBER-PUNK 22BBY [Inspired Inventor+]

— Atom —

"Uh, choom…? How did we get here?" David asked, sounding as baffled and overwhelmed as I'd ever heard him.

"Huyumph," I huffed in acknowledgment but didn't actually say anything.

A Twi'lek girl wearing next to nothing — just the sheerest of silks and so much barely hidden blue skin — giggled and fed him a small fruit by hand. Bewildered, David could only open his mouth to accept the offering. She was far from alone. Another Twi'lek girl — dressed similarly to the first — fanned me lovingly, worshipfully… A dozen more lounged around us like a harem out of an Arabic dream.

Taati cooed after her man, "Just accept it, baby. The girls wish to show their thanks."

"And you're not…" David hesitated. "Jealous…?"

Taati blinked in genuine confusion, "Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?"

David shifted where he sat on the edge of my new throne, "Uh… All of this? Any of it?"

Large breasts pressed against the back of his head as a green-skinned Twi'lek woman leaned over him. She stroked her hands up over his chest and began massaging his shoulders. David stared pointedly, nervously, at Taati as the green Twi'lek did.

Taati just laughed, "Oh, S'aya is a sweetheart. She just wants to help you relax, baby. And you should let her."

The late Zorba's throne was vast and cushioned like two king beds pushed together, hovering about a foot above the floor. David sat on the edge with two of the Twi'lek harem girls and Taati tending to him. That left me at the throne's summit… with the other ten…

Some lounged about at my feet as if on display. Another pair curled up at my back, acting almost like warm, seductive pillows while breathy sighs grazed my ears like a shudder-inducing breeze. Yet another pair lay in front, sensually stroking and caressing each other, just generally putting on a hedonistic show for my enjoyment. One continued to fan me. Another waited at my side with a plate of fine foods and snacks, ready and eager for her chance to serve me. The last one lay between my legs at the foot of the sort of pillow throne I'd placed at the summit of the Hutt-sized throne for ease of use.

That last one rested her head on one of my thighs, stroking careful, tempting fingers across my lap. Her stroking — paradoxically purposeful and absent — never ventured too far or too close to my half-hard, trapped cock.

She was the most beautiful of the Twi'lek girls. Not that there was much difference, even then. All of the harem girls were beautiful, almost beyond words. Smooth, colorful skin. Plentiful curves. Exotic beauty and features. Perfectly practiced seduction. It was almost all they knew.

Every moment since I'd taken Zorba's throne, representatives of De'vi's Twi'lek harems had been there. Always tempting, seducing, 'entertaining~'… It… took some getting used to. I'd never experienced anything like it — the constant worship from so many exotic alien beauties. They were — admittedly — amazing… And distracting.

Distracting at the worst of times. I'd never had more shit on my plate. There were so many things to be done or seen to. Taking over a whole interstellar cartel wasn't easy or effortless in the slightest. I hadn't been able to leave my new throne, sleeping right in it when I did sleep at all — surrounded by harem girls and Sasha, of course… It was apparently the best place I could be for the time being. A symbol of my new rule, a sign that new work was being done, and the place where I could have the most impact even if I wasn't actually doing anything myself.

Shit was getting done… But the whole thing was frustrating in the extreme. Especially since half the things I wanted — needed — to do didn't directly involve the crew's (my…) new cartel. I needed to focus on myself, too. We'd won a huge victory here. Accomplished something unprecedented for Nar Shaddaa. And, while establishing ourselves and my rule further was key in the coming days, I wasn't going to allow my personal power and growth to stagnate or stall, either.

"Atom~…" Sasha cooed, coming up onto the throne to drape herself across my lap.

The Twi'lek girl between my legs — I'yiv — shifted slightly, dutifully allowing Sasha access. She settled back into an 'advantageous' position and began effortlessly stroking away at Sasha as well as me. Sasha wiggled herself around in my lap to get comfy. Her plump, perky, pivoting ass was the final straw that took my cock from half-hardness to full…

"What?" I growled, the sound low and implicit, but not harsh.

"Whyyyyy~ aren't you playing with your new Twi'lek harem~?" Sasha keened into my ear.

"Woman," I grunted. "I am busy."

"Doing what~?" Came Sasha's temptingly breathless question.

"Altering the very fucking molecules of my body into beskar."

There was a short pause before Sasha drew herself back to stare at me and blink, her whole mood shifting suddenly from seduction to confusion, "… Huh?"

'Huh' in-fucking-deed… In the process of taking Zorba's throne and in the days since I'd been flooded with Inspired Inventor+ points. One for gathering allies to support the coup's cause. One for freeing my first batch of slaves from the kyber-spice processing center. One for killing the Force Tweaker, ending the wound in the Force he caused, and destroying the kyber-spice stash — likely from the Force itself. One for setting off so many unprecedented events, including the fall of a Hutt on Nar Shaddaa and how I'd freed the rest of the cartel's slaves. One for killing Zorba myself. Another one for taking his throne ("Long live the fucking king, I guess…"). One more — funnily enough — for securing myself a Twi'lek harem and one last point for the usual weekly progression.

Eight points. I… may have gone on a spending spree as a result. When I inquired, asking Inspired Inventor+ itself (however that truly worked…), the system allowed me to spend a point to turn Force Bio-Alchemy into holistic Force Alchemy. My alchemical knowledge expanded, just about doubling for half the cost. I then spent another two points to upgrade Force Alchemy (no longer just 'Bio') to level III.

The upgrade was… impactful. No longer just restricted to organic or living matter, ideas and possibilities filtered into my brain everywhere I turned. Both the Physical aspect of the Force and the Living aspect were clay to be molded by my hands, bound together by the Cosmic aspect. Force Alchemy was, simply put, the concept of change. Alteration. Enforced modification, transmutation, and distortion. Cause and effect. Action that led invariably to results. Now, I glimpsed that fundamental philosophy in everything.

After quite a bit of use, I had a better sense of the power scale Inspired Inventor+ operated on. For mundane skills, level I was the average peak human proficiency in said skill. Level II was that first true step into super-human proficiency. Level III and beyond ventured firmly into the realm of the impossible for anyone but galactic-level geniuses.

The analogy somewhat fell apart when it came to Force Powers. But as far as I could tell, Force Sensitive I, II, and III corresponded to latent Force Sensitive, near-graduate Jedi Initiate, and near-graduate Jedi Padawan. Respectively: pure potential and instinct. Semi-trained but inexperienced. Proficient, practiced, and decently powerful, but largely unacknowledged, not having taken that final step into full independence. I could only assume that the other Force Powers followed a similar level arc.

That was how I spent the first three points of my achieving windfall. With five left, I'd barely even started at that point. Material Sciences I came next. I already knew the actual improvements I was going to make to myself once I had all of the tools at my disposal. Material Sciences granted me an abundance of critical information for my plans. It also allowed me to identify my mystery metal spear as beskar of the purest quality. Convenient…

The fifth point was spent on Delegation I. Already, it was proving an essential skill to have. 'Delegate, delegate, delegate' wasn't just a practical philosophy. To a newly crowned crime lord, it was a way of life.

Then, I returned to Force Powers. Shatterpoint I. Nothing physically changed with that acquisition. But my worldview was revolutionized. More than anything, Shatterpoints were a way of looking at the world around me. They were a fundamental shift in perspective. But only the beginnings of one. I glimpsed weak points and points of failure more easily, instinctively knowing ways I could exploit them. But it wasn't the galaxy-upheaving power that helped make Mace Windu the Master of the Jedi Order. Not yet at least…

It did, however, illuminate the weakest points of failure in myself… I'd known my mental state wasn't… stable. But seeing that it was bad enough to qualify as a fucking shatterpoint was a wake-up call. I was trying to force myself to be more open to ways to… destress as a result. One of the reasons I was willing to tolerate my new Twi'lek harem as much as I did. The other reasons being… rather obvious.

Then, there was my physical shatterpoint. With my Upgrade, I could keep up with chrome. Or most of it, at least. Essentially super-soldier serum and whatnot — I was fast and strong enough to match any cyberlimb, reacted quicker than anything short of a Sandie, and could honestly outlast any chrome simply by enhancing what the Human body did best: endurance. But compared to the average chromejock, I was squishy. I hated being squishy…

I figured I should address that shatterpoint before it, well, shattered — undoubtedly in the form of grievous bodily harm for me. That brought me to my final Inspired Inventor+ investment — the crux of my next holistic improvement. Art of the Small. Level II, too…

Inspired Inventor+

Humanity [Maxed]

Scavenging I

Scrapyard Mechanics I

Emergency/Improvised Medical Care II

Cyberware I

Brawling (Weapons Varied) I

Force Healing II

Genetic Engineering (Evolutionary) I

Force Bio-Alchemy II [+1 ->] Force Alchemy II [+2] Force Alchemy III

Gun-Fu I

Espionage II

Force Sensitivity III

Coordination I

[+2] Art of the Small II

[+1] Shatterpoint I

[+1] Delegation I

[+1] Material Sciences I

Once I had all of the tools I needed, I just had to put them to work. Simple, right…? Entirely not simple. I technically had everything I needed to enact my newest self-improvement plan. Actually putting it all together was another story. A 'story' that I had running and working in the background every waking and un-waking moment since I took Zorba's throne. It'd finally come together in a way I was satisfied with.

In the end, all of my most recent Inspired Inventor+ investments built up toward what I was now doing. Even Delegation I, freeing up time for me to work while I was stuck atop the throne. The others were more… directly involved.

Shatterpoint guided me along the path of shattering my shatterpoint in a controlled manner, illuminating weak spots in my planning and work. Material Sciences gave me the know-how. Force Alchemy and Art of the Small gave me the ability and means to enact my self-improvement. Even my pure beskar spear played a role, if only as an example and blueprint…

The concept I had in mind, essentially, was to turn my body into beskar. Not literally. But close. Along with significant stealth benefits, Art of the Small allowed me to shrink my Force presence down to the size of an atom. From there, it became much easier (read: even possible) to alter molecules and atoms as if simply using telekinesis to lift a crate.

Combined with Force Alchemy, I could alter the molecules of my body to take on traits they wouldn't usually have, traits that wouldn't normally be possible for organic molecules. Like, say, the durability and strength of beskar?

The science didn't exactly compute. Organic materials weren't supposed to be as solid and unyielding as one of the toughest metals in the galaxy. But with the Force, that didn't particularly matter. With the Force, I could have my cake (a beskar body) and eat it, too (continue to fucking live at all)…

The resulting molecules were somehow a superposition of both things at once. Both organic and beskar. Both alive and decidedly… not. A 'not-magic' melding of inert supermetal and living, breathing flesh. Yet the density of the molecules didn't increase, even as they became harder and stronger than starship-grade steel. And all of the organic functions of my body still worked exactly as they should. Force Alchemy was glorious, glorious bullshit.

I was essentially making myself into Living Beskar. By the time I was done, I expected my fists to punch through durasteel like it was nothing and tank turbolaser bolts if necessary. It wouldn't be pretty… but I'd live through at least one barrage of them. I didn't just have a (relatively) thin layer of beskar armor like a Mandalorian. My beskar went from the skin to the core. It'd likely take industrial forging levels of temperature or being chucked at a planet to truly damage me now. Even then, I'd likely live long enough to fight until my bitter, spiteful end.

Beskar's toughness was unmatched, to the point that I felt the Force had to be involved in its atomic creation. To withstand lightsaber strikes with relative ease, something had to be up at the atomic level. But even with Force Sensitive III and the rest of my Inspired Inventor+ powers, I only caught a whisper of it. I did have to wonder if that potential Force imbuement was what made my endeavor possible at all. I doubt I could've done the same with regular durasteel.

Becoming Living Beskar had an upfront cost to it, though. It was a concentration and time-intensive process for me. I didn't have to change every molecule individually. That would've been fucking impossible, even for the levels of spite I could muster. But I was having to go inch by inch over my whole body. Several trillion molecules at a time… And the process was still turning out to be the work of two whole days.

At least I got some interesting Damascus steel-like 'tattoos' out of it… along with the obvious benefits, of course. I certainly didn't hate the marks, though. Faint enough to go mostly unnoticed unless examined closely, they were ripples on my skin. Not stripes. They were distinctly unique in the way they wound and weaved, merged and multiplied. A sign, a showcase, of beskar within and without…

I showed them to Sasha to prove my unbelievable statement, leaning my head back so she could see how my new pseudo-tattoos marked my neck and continued below my collar. Sasha stared. And stared. And stared some more. Curious fingers tugged at my collar and she peeked comically down my shirt.

"Oh… my… fraggin'… Stars, Atom!" She exclaimed excitedly. "These are preem, baby~! How'd you manage this?"

"Not-magic," I answered with a grumble. "What else?"

Sasha giggled, "Of course. What else~? I don't even know what you're doing, baby, but kri~iiff~… I like the new look~…"

"It's not just aesthetic," I grunted out. "Like I said, I'm turning the molecules in my body into essentially Living Beskar. I was too squishy. I hate being squishy…"

"You won't hear me complaining about that," Sasha nodded. "The tougher you are — the stronger — the happier I am. You aren't hurting yourself, are you?"

"No, it's…" I paused. "Relatively safe. Just requires my concentration. You and the new girls are distracting."

"We can stop if you'd like, Master," I'yiv — the Twi'lek girl between my legs — spoke up. "The girls just wish to show their appreciation and gratitude. We would never aim to distract or indirectly harm you."

Slowly, I turned my gaze down toward her. The look in my eyes must've been intense. I'yiv stopped in her tracks, sucking in a sharp breath and holding it. Her purposefully caressing hands froze on my thigh and Sasha's. Wide, wide eyes stared back up at me.

When I spoke, I spoke slowly and seriously, "Don't. Don't ever call me master. That is something I'll never accept from you and the rest of the former slaves. If you slip up, I won't get mad. I'll simply correct you. But the last thing I want is to assume that position after I worked damn hard to set you, your sisters, and your brothers in chains free."

I'yiv nodded shakily, her reply breathless with palpable awe in the Force, "I-I understand, Ma-… Sir. M-Milord… Likewise, we would never aim to undermine all that you've given us. You have broken chains. We-… We shall endeavor to continue that great work."

The other girls were listening with that same sort of awe. Held breaths and intent attention. The harem on the throne paused as they took my words practically as gospel. If they could, they would've recorded those words and listened to them over and over again. Even now, the smallest of hopes were treasured by the former slaves.

I scowled, not at any of them but at the situation as a whole, "I hope you all know that none of this is necessary. I won't make you wait on me hand and foot. There are other places you all can be utilized. Or nowhere, for a time, if that's what you need. You are FREE. All of you. Don't let some misplaced sense of obligation keep you where you've always been."

I'yiv gently shook her head, speaking for the immediate harem, "As you said, milord Atom. This is where we've always been. This is all we know. Others in the harems might have other skills, other ways to show their gratitude toward you. But us…? This… is all we know…"

"And Atom won't turn you away," Sasha quickly reassured, speaking for me as she saw my scowl deepen. "He just wants you to know that there are other options on the table. None of this is required. It's appreciated — even if Mr. Grunty here won't say it."

"Hn…" I proved her teasing nickname accurate and glanced away.

Yet I wasn't passive as I did that. Recognizing the weight of a moment in the making in Sasha's short speech, I moved to emphasize it. A pheromone scent wafted into the air about the throne at my silent command. A smell of relaxation, setting any tension at ease. Subconsciously attention-grabbing, as well. As a result of it, the Twi'lek girls leaned in and listened even more closely.

Unaware of my aid but feeling it all the same, Sasha chuckled and continued, "But it's not required. We'll take you here. We'll take you somewhere else if you feel the need to contribute in other ways. No matter what, all of you have a place here. Atom won't kick you out. He won't reverse your freedom for any reason. You're safe. You're free. And you all matter. Anyone who ever told you differently is Straight. Up. Wrong. They're mostly likely dead and in the dirt by now, anyway. Where they belong."

De'vi entered the conversation, walking up to the throne and saying softly, "… Well said, Sasha. Our chains are broken, girls… The choice — any choice — is ours…"

Suunri and Sstala came with her, staying back for a moment to allow De'vi and the other former slaves their moment. De'vi's girls looked to her for guidance, taking strength from her quiet, softly-smiling resolve. I think it was then that 'FREEDOM' set in for them. Truly set in.

Something shifted in the Force. An undercurrent of unconscious tension that remained from the weight of chains… It evaporated into the metaphysical wind. A few of the girls around me stood. Hesitantly, but growing in confidence when I didn't do anything to stop them. Instead, I stared at them almost expectantly. A prodding eyebrow raised on my face. As if asking, 'Well? Are you free or not? Act like it.'

It wasn't quite encouragement. Not nearly so kind and gentle. Motivation of a different kind. A push. A nudge. A firm shove to get them to truly take the first step of freedom for themselves. And as they bowed to me, I felt that first step in the Force. After bowing, the Twi'lek girls simply… turned and walked away. As they were entirely free to do.

Some of the girls stayed — I'yiv among them. But now, I had to assume it was because they wanted to, not because they were forcing themselves to. The Force breathed a contented sigh, reinforcing that assumption. I gave a satisfied grunt. Progress.

De'vi gave me a soft, painfully genuine smile, "Thank you, Atom. For everything… Thank you…"

"I didn't do jack-shit," I grumbled.

"That is quantifiably untrue," Sstala said, speaking up for the first time and adjusting the smart, professional-styled glasses she'd taken to wearing for whatever fucking reason as she did. "… Sir."

The Force whispered what the fucking reason was in my mind's ear… She's always dreamed of being the secretary to someone powerful. Zorba didn't satisfy that dream of hers. Not even close. Now that she had someone who did, she was pulling out all of the stops and enjoying herself immensely.

"Good show, my lord~," Suunri purred, her slit-pupil eyes twinkling. "Masterful scent work. Yes, a very good show, indeed~…"

The Force whispered something about her as well. She was fascinated by me. Fascinated by the fact that things inevitably seemed to happen around me. And fascinated by the spite I showed for the very concept of a status quo. Normally, that wasn't a reassuring trait for someone in her position — essentially a noble, if a 'criminal' one. But she'd gotten in on the ground floor. By my side, she could simply enjoy and exploit the chaos, knowing it wouldn't be aimed at her.

Just about everything I did was a 'good show' to her. I wasn't unaware of the eyes constantly on me now. The throne room wasn't private. It couldn't be made private, either, despite my annoyance with that fact. My new vassals and underlings needed to see their new lord, both in action and at rest.

The only consolation I could find was in changing up how 'the court' worked. I'd always be at the center of it. That much was unavoidable. But where Zorba had relished that focus, I made myself a sort of… background centerpiece. The court — My Court — would orbit around me, not all be on constant, ass-kissing, position-vying, favor-jockeying collision courses with me.

It wasn't perfect. I was still always being watched and weighed by my actions, reactions, and non-actions while I was on the throne. But it was better. It meant only the actually important people bothered me directly. I gave Suunri an acknowledging grunt and turned back to Sstala.

"What do you need, Sstala?" I glared. Even then, Sstala reveled, mostly just happy to have a boss who took his duty and her work seriously.

"Reports to be made, mostly," Sstala reported, her tone crisp and professional. "Some decisions for your eyes as well, Sir. I've put all of the documentation in order. While I work for you, you won't ever worry about such busy work. Your will is my work, Sir, but I still require direction."

"Fair. Fine. Fucking perfect," I chopped out. "Let's get you that fucking direction so you can continue doing a fucking banging job, Sstala."

She preened at the compliment, but from her stoic expression, no one would ever know, "Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir."

Suunri interjected, tutting, "Ah, ah, that's all very well and good. But I need something from our new lord, too, before anything else. A show of force, Lord Atom~…"

I turned my glare onto her, "… What the fuck are you on about?"

The reptilian Black Widow clicked her tongue, "Tsk, I've already begun hearing… whispers~… A good show of force and power would put them well to rest. Unfortunately, you've been stuck on this throne for a touch too long, too early in your reign. It was the correct choice, I feel, but certain… optimistically opportunistic… elements have begun stalking about in the shadows of your court, my lord. I am working on rooting them out, of course. This would… greatly help my efforts in your name~…"

I stared for a moment more before unceremoniously nodding, "… Fine. Where's Becca? Someone find my Chaos Loli."

"Uh oh…" Sasha paled and muttered on my lap.

Chuckling, David got up to do so, "I'll get her for ya, choom. This'll be a show…"

"What for, my lord?" Suunri asked curiously.

"I'm gonna have her shoot at me. Becca will do it immediately, no questions asked."

"Shoot… at you…?"

"Yes, that's what I fucking said."

"N-Not to doubt you, my lord, but is this… wise? Like, at all?"

No. No, it wasn't. Even if you could take it, it usually wasn't wise to want to be shot at. But I'd been stuck on this damn throne for much too long. I was getting… antsy, especially now that my Living Beskar was finishing up. I needed some good action. Becca wouldn't hesitate to give it to me.

What it said about my mental state (shatterpoint…) that letting myself get shot was what I considered 'good action'… well, I repressed that thought with spite and vengeance. I'd balance it out with some steady fucking ruling and finally some time off this damned throne afterward. Until then, my Living Beskar still needed a trial by (gun)fire.

Soon enough, David returned with Becca. His mom and Lucy joined them as well. The rest of the crew tended to be living it up these past few days, relaxing in sheer luxury. Anything we wanted, we would have. For them, this was mostly a vacation after a job well done. I, of course, was stuck with work and the damned throne. But I didn't blame them for that. Mostly…

"Becca," I said bluntly, moving Sasha off my lap and out of the 'potential' (Becca's decision was guaranteed in my mind) line of fire. "Shoot me."

Hearing my order, Gloria sighed, "Stars damn it, Atom… We really need to have an actual conversation about your priorities here at some point. My fault for not having it sooner…"

Lucy smirked, "Good luck with that. Atom isn't really the 'talking' kinda gonk. More the 'fuck around and find out' kind… I think he enjoys being shot at and-… huh, where'd he get the new tats…?"

Becca didn't even blink twice at the order. Already, she was swinging her Trandoshan Scattergun from her back around to her front. It settled in her hands and she cycled it with a deafening action, catching the unspent ejected shell, and feeding it right back into the magazine as if to prove to anyone watching how live her iron was. It was all done in a single, dangerously smooth motion as Becca grinned her usual rimbo grin.

"My language, my people, my style~! Ready, choom~?!"

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, just go right-GRH!"

She didn't even let me finish my sentence… No, she just unloaded a shot of her scattergun straight into my gut. The whole throne room froze in horror as ~20,000 foot-pounds of force slammed into me with a banging boom and cacophonous crash…

Normally, Becca's scattergun would've turned flesh, bone, and just about any armor to fine, fine mist. The best scatterguns were known to defeat even personal deflector shields, and Becca didn't use anything but the best when it came to heavy iron. From so close, it should've sent me flying across the room in bits and pieces of gore… I took only a single step backward, my shirt shredded but the skin below utterly untouched.

Becca immediately cycled the action and shot again. Because, of course, she did… Double tap, and all. I wouldn't have done any differently. The second shot I caught in mid-air, grunting as that same explosive, eviscerating level of kinetic energy slammed into a concentrated shield of telekinesis.

Two dozen fingerbone-sized slugs floated before me, caught in flight. I made sure everyone watching got a good glance at them. Then, I slowly closed my outstretched hand into a fist. They gravitated toward a center point in my Force Grip. I crushed the scatter slugs together until they heated up from sheer pressure and began to melt into a dense, misshapen ball, using a bit of Force Alchemy to kickstart the melting process. If one looked close enough, gripping finger marks were visible on its surface…

Unceremoniously, I tossed the physical evidence of Suunri's requested 'show of force' to Becca, chuckling almost fondly, "Thanks, Becks. I needed that."

Even she had to stop and simply stare at me after that, "… Uh. Yeah… No problem, choomba. That, uh-… H-Holy karkin' kriff~…"

It felt good to leave Becca of all people speechless. As her shock faded, I sensed something else rise within her. Something… that really could only be expected from a girl like Becca after a show like that. She, very quickly, became ravenously horny. Tummy-fluttering, mind-blanking, panty-(not that Becca wore panties)-drenchingly horny…

I smirked knowingly at her stunned expression, "That's all I needed you for. Stay if you want. Sstala has some work for me, but it shouldn't take too long. Then, I'm finally going to get off this damned throne…"

I finished with a scowl and an honest growl. After that display, I didn't expect anyone to muster a protest. If they did — trying to insist that the cartel's king 'must stay on his throne!' — I'd likely have Becca shoot them. Ironic. Satisfying. And if anyone did try to tell me what to do, it'd be fucking deserved.

I carefully observed the reactions from the rest of my court. Shock. Awe. Disbelief, even after seeing it with their own eyes. Here and there… sheer, uncomprehending horror that reconsidered hidden treachery. I noted those individuals, producing a meaningless but unique scent from my pheromones and marking each of them with a touch of it with Art of the Small.

"Suunri," I grunted, pushing an example of the marking scent her way as well. "Look for that scent. It'll make your task easier."

The stunned-silent Black Widow blinked slowly, her forked tongue darting out to taste the air. Thankfully, as utterly dumbfounded as she was, Suunri was still quick on the uptake. Understanding dawned on her face and her unique fascination with me came back like a sudden flare. She gave me a wordless nod, a smile flickering onto her sultry, softly scaled lips.

The ripples of my little 'demonstration' faded, function and higher thinking slowly returning to my court. I didn't acknowledge it with another word. I didn't need to. My 'show of force (and Force…)' had been made loud, clear, and impossible to miss.

While the rest of my court descended into awed chatter, horrified whispers, and re-thought plots, I turned back to Sstala. Her expression and posture were as stoic as ever, but I could feel her practically pulsing with satisfaction at the competence her new boss (me) had just displayed.

"Right, reports to be heard and decisions to be made," I motioned for Sstala to pick up where she left off. "Let's get this done."

"As you say, Sir," Sstala humbly began. "First, I should start with the efforts of your immediate allies."

"Wonderful," I rumbled. "What have the boys been up to these last few days?"

As I asked that, the others settled back in around me. The Hutt-sized throne hosted all of the crew who were present — Me, Sasha, Becca, Lucy, Gloria, and David — as well as Taati, I'yiv, and the remaining Twi'lek girls with room to spare. Taati latched onto her output with an unyielding embrace.

"David… If I hear about you repeating that 'experiment' to try and train bullet-dodging or something… I will not be happy. Not very happy, at all. Not even your Night City Chrome will let you run away from me," Taati lectured sternly, preempting the idea before it could become an issue.

The suddenly sheepish look on David's face said he'd already been considering it, "Oh… Yeah, uh, noted…"

"Careful, mijo…" Gloria warned gravely as well. "Your dear old mother won't be very happy about it, either."

"I'd start small! Stun bolts, maybe a rat rifle-…!" David began to insist before cutting himself off and adopting an innocently sweet expression. "I mean… you're not old, Mom. Far from it!"

Meanwhile, Sasha sat herself back in my lap, hesitantly prodding at my stomach where there should've been a gaping wound at the least, "Stars damn, Atom… I guess your little 'not-magic' thing'a-ma-deavor worked. The tats certainly aren't just for show…"

"What are they~?" Becca asked, at my side in an instant and peeking at my unwounded skin with Sasha. "More 'ganic chrome~? Fraggin' NO~VA~!"

"I'd say no but you never know with Atom. It looks like… beskar, though…?" Lucy half-said, half-asked. "Does it feel like it?"

Sasha shook her head, "Aside from the preem tats, you can't even tell anything's different. Atom called it 'Living Beskar'. I think he, like, merged with it or something, neh~?"

"Alchemy," I 'explained' with a single word.

Already, having some of the crew around was putting my mind at ease. I felt better than I had in days, especially now that my self-improvement was finished and the prospect of getting off this damned throne was close at hand. A certain shatterpoint didn't fully disappear. But it faded into the background. That familiar chemistry and camaraderie… It helped.

Sstala politely and professionally waited for the chatter to run its course and for me to relax a bit more before she answered my original question, "The 'boys' have been securing support outside of the court. Fortifying the foundations of your rule, Sir. They have been… mostly hard at work. But effective nonetheless.

"Shank's loyalty is solid. He leads nearly 10,000 souls directly. And he is working to grow that number. Even beyond him, the Gank Packs favor you, Sir. You led them toward two key tenets of their culture: killing and feasting. Word of that glory is spreading through all of the Gank Packs on Nar Shaddaa, not just Shank's. You could likely ignore them and they'd still follow the Alpha of Alphas."

I scowled at that damn 'Alpha' title coming back. The Ganks would quite literally be my dogs of war. But fuck if that 'Alpha' shit wasn't cringy… Nothing I could actually do about it, of course. I waved for Sstala to continue.

"I wouldn't suggest that course of action, Sir…" She advised. "But the Ganks are easy creatures to satisfy. Give them food aplenty and enemies to fight — which you certainly don't lack — and they will remain content. I will handle the provisions and if you give me a list of acceptable targets, I shall pass it along."

"Slavers first," I grunted. "Other Hutts second. 'Course, on a Venn diagram, those two targets are a single fucking circle… They'll hate us no matter what we do. No need to play nice. Hits and targeted raids only. No all-out ground offensive. That'll keep 'em busy enough."

Sstala bowed minutely, "It is as you say, Sir. I shall aim Shank and his Ganks as you have decided. For the others… Coyate is recruiting. Filling the traditionally more violent roles in the cartel that you effectively emptied during your… coronation. It is slow going due to his high standards of conduct and competence but I believe you will be better for it, Sir.

"Meanwhile, Maine and Shaitan have been addressing the cartel's contractor situation. They're tracking down the mercs and bounty hunters who were smart enough to make themselves scarce during the assault and coup. Those they deem worthwhile are being brought back on the payroll. Those they don't deem as such are being paid what Zorba owed them and left to go about their way. We are already developing a consistent and reliable reputation as a result. A reputation that says that our regime change won't shirk on jobs and payouts.

"Additionally, they are using their extensive, combined network of contacts to build our contractor pool even further. Word is being spread. Good word. When we need to, we should be able to call upon quite the mercenary force."

I glanced at Sasha, "Can we afford loyalty?"

"We can afford to buy so, so, so much loyalty," She nodded enthusiastically.

I gave a curt nod in return, "Good. Money talks. Money is consistent. Set up a budget for now. Keep a larger stash account for rainier days. Continue, Sstala."

"Of course, Sir. Ave…" She hesitated, glancing at Suunri. "Well, I would let… someone else… address him."

My eyes narrowed. I got the message. Ave the Hutt was already wrapped up in Suunri's investigations. Unsurprising. I'd leave him to her for now. Until he played his hand or she shoved him out into the open, at least.

Smartly, Sstala continued as if she'd never addressed Ave, "Linth has consolidated the remnants of Zorba's Nar Shaddaa fleet into his own. He reports — in his usual manner… — that his number of ships has increased by 50%. He claims 92 ships now. 48 starfighters of various makes and models. 22 freighters — split 2:1 between light and heavy make. 13 frigates. 6 corvettes — split half and half between the Consular and Marauder classes. 2 Gozanti-class freight cruisers. And 1 Shad'ruu War Barge — the crown jewel of Zorba's fleet.

"Additionally, Linth will be stacking the ships' crews in his — our — favor. He's currently undergoing a 'grand' reshuffling to ensure every crew that was under Zorba's fleet is outnumbered 2:1 at the least. He seems quite content with how that is going and is thankful for the chance to promote some of his more loyal and promising crew members to captain positions of their own."

"New captains?" David perked up. "Is Falco one of them? He was good, choom. We should keep an eye on him."

"I do not know, Prince David," Sstala admitted. "But I shall inquire after such an individual if you wish."

"P-Prince-?!" David sputtered.

I noted that name in my mind. Falco… It was familiar. On the tip of my tongue… As I did, I absently said, "Right… I forgot to tell you, but you're my heir presumptive, David. I needed an heir to secure my new reign. Fucking feudal Hutts… Don't stress. It's unlikely to mean much in the long run."

David's mouth dropped open and his mind crashed, "What th-uhhhhhhhhhhh…"

Taati pushed his jaw back up with a finger, teasing, "Ara ara~… that's not a very dashing look for a prince, now is it~?"

An amused smirk ghosted across my face as I turned back to Sstala, stating bluntly, "Your reports have been heard. Have them all continue on as they have been. Now… You ended with Linth for a reason, I sense."

"I did, Sir," She nodded. "No matter what course you take, he will play a pivotal role in the next point I have to bring to your attention. We are reaching a threshold where we must begin talking about… expansion."

My immediate instinct was to say 'yes' unequivocally. I paused and thought about it before I did. My brow furrowed and furrowed some more. My considering stare grew into a glare. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn't give that order.

We were backed into a corner as it was, surrounded by enemies and opportunists within and without. The pieces of an interstellar criminal empire might've remained in place from Zorba's reign. But there was no guarantee that we'd be able to take them all easily. I imagined that most of Zorba's interstellar holdings had already been co-opted by his enemies — now mine — and his allies — now also my enemies… I didn't have the ability or motivation to be everywhere at once and address the inevitable issues that would spring up star systems apart. Not yet at least… Expanding past Nar Shaddaa right now would be… hasty. Ill-advised. And likely spell doom for my fledgling reign.

Slowly, I shook my head, "No. We focus on consolidation. Put Nar Shaddaa first and foremost. Develop a strong, sturdy center here before we begin reaching outward. Trade? Sure. Infiltration…? Maybe. But no conquest off-world. We'll focus those efforts here on Nar Shaddaa."

"Oh, thank Stars…" Sstala breathed a subtle sigh of relief. "Ahem. A wise decision, Sir. I would have advised the same. We have significant resources at our disposal. Those significant resources can't be effectively applied in an interstellar manner at this time. I can arrange them as such if you wish, but it will be a work in progress."

"Aww~…" Becca groaned. "No space conquest~?"

"No," I deadpanned. "Just moon-side conquest for now. Woe is you, I know."

"Eh," Becca shrugged. "I've learned I'm never short on violence around you, choom. I'll live and junk."

"A whole lot of other people won't," Lucy snarked.

Becca cackled, "If they wanna live, they shouldn't be gonk enough to get in my way!"

"When you think about it, getting in Becca's way is really suicide, not murder," Sasha joked.

"Yeah, they practically dive into my crosshair~!" Becca chimed. "SO~… not my fault, neh?"

"No, no, of course not, dear," Gloria shook her head. "There's no helping people with death wishes. I believe assisted suicide is even legal in some parts of the Republic."

That sent the girls into fits of giggles. I'yiv and the other Twi'lek girls seemed to be looking at them oddly. Which… fair. To the uninitiated, we were a violently irreverent bunch. I didn't see anything wrong with Becca facilitating a bit of 'assisted suicide', but I may have been just as much a part of the problem as she was…

Sstala cleared her throat to get my attention, "Ahem, that is all I have for you, Sir. Our immediate allies shall continue doing as I've reported and I shall follow your decision regarding consolidation. Matters of delegation — I feel — can wait until you've had some time to unwind. Time… off the throne…"

"Thank fuck for that," I grunted. "I need some real sleep in a real fucking bed… And some preem pussy. De'vi's girls do their job a bit too well…"

"Oh, oh~! Dibs~!" Becca immediately declared. "I've been waitin' for this moment, big choom~! And after shooting you in the stomach, I am not waiting a second longer!"

I glanced at Sasha and she just rolled her eyes, "Oh, go ahead. Put her out of her misery and into bliss, baby."

"Fuckin' finally. Little mesugaki minx has been tempting me since we met…" I muttered. "Don't gotta tell me twice."

I was already standing and fixing Becca with a challenging, promising glare. She met my glare challenge for challenge, promise for promise, adopting a falsely grim expression. For some reason, our exchange reminded me of my glare-down with Smasher. Only… a touch less violent. And much, much more sexually charged (thank the Force Smasher didn't consider me a 'fuckable cut of meat'…). Still, Becca and I stared at each other until sexual tension was practically the only thing I could feel.

"I'm gonna ride your fraggin' brains out through your balls, choom-daddy."

"I'm gonna fuck you squirting and senseless… Jailbait."

"Boytoy joytoy."

"Shortstack walking onahole."

"Big Daddy Dick Energy."

"Tiny Titty Temper."

"Pretty bastard."

"Loli brat."

The next thing I knew was passion. Just. Sheer. Passion. 110 pounds of 'loli brat' launched at me, latched on, and wouldn't let go. Becca struck fast and stuck herself to me hard. I didn't even have to catch her.

Her legs locked around my waist. Lust resonated. Her eager laughter could've raised my mast singlehandedly. The Force practically cackled along with Becca. She clenched her thighs around me, grinding her crotch on the bare skin her scattergun blast had revealed right below my navel and almost literally spurring me on like a horse.

Pale skin, glowing cyber-eyes, and a manic grin — Becca was all I could see. I held her up easily, not even stumbling. I was tempted to throw her down and fuck her right there. Chatter around us dissuaded me from that course of action. I didn't care about the rest of my court. But those on the throne with me deserved a bit of discretion.

"I swear we should be praying for them…" Gloria sighed and muttered.

"Which one?" David asked, both joking and earnestly curious.

"That… is a very good question…"

"Yes," Lucy deadpanned. "The answer is yes."

"Shall I prepare bacta tanks for broken pelvises, Lady Sasha?" Sstala asked.

Sasha giggled. I could practically feel the unrepentantly excited grin she must've had on her face. When it came to me, I knew she was anything but selfish, "That might be a good idea, yeah~…"

Then, Becca kissed me, burning brightly into the embrace. Soft lips. Hasty movements. Hands that reached and groped everywhere. Lust piled on top of lust. I kissed her back just as fiercely. So much so that I didn't realize I was moving, walking, running until we left the throne room at speed. The Force guided me out and down a private hallway. Even without much of my higher thinking, it led me to my personal suite at the top of the tower.

Into a private elevator that took us quickly down a floor. Within, I pressed Becca up against the wall and attacked her lips with mine. She giggled and groaned into the kiss, grinding herself harder against me with clenching wiggles. The doors opened again. I spun us around without breaking our embrace and carried Becca across the threshold.

The 'Kingly' suites took up as much space as the throne room just above. After being constantly stuck on that damned throne, it was the first time I'd stepped foot inside my rightful rooms in the tower. I didn't waste a single moment on appreciating them. Hurried hands of Force pulled at my clothes and Becca's as I practically dashed toward the first semi-soft horizontal surface I could find.

The Force itself lit the way, fueled by lust and passion. It seemed more… distracted than usual, focused entirely on me, Becca, and the feverish emotions pouring forth from us. As such, when I finally pushed Becca down and aimed my throbbing beskar cock at her eager loli flower, it wasn't really a surprise that I didn't get a warning for what happened next.

"Frakkin' FINALLY! Kriffer kept us waiting! Ah, sis, too… Oh, well."

Before I could take the plunge and drive myself into Becca, my whole nervous system went utterly stiff. I vaguely felt a crackling prod against the flesh of my right ass cheek. I locked up in an instant as enough stunning electricity to put down a Hutt coursed through my body. The Human body was already a conductor. It seemed my Living Beskar transformation had only made that vulnerability worse…

The Force itself startled at the ambush. Something in the ether jerked and jolted sideways. Becca was hit as well, sheer surprise and betrayal cutting through our passion. I began to fall backward. As I did… I saw two familiar faces. One: the ugly mug of a slug. Ave the Cunt… The other: a Human face, capped by a recognizable mohawk, framed by a beard, and bearing a chrome visor in place of eyes. Fucking… Pilar…

But before the betrayal and utter fucking fury could set in… everything went black, not even the Force able to save me from unconsciousness.

IIIII

[AN: *GASP!* Interrupted smut! Pilar's burning in Hell for this one… Don't worry, I'll only *slightly* blue-ball everyone. Becca will get her smut next chapter. Before that, though, she and Atom have a betrayal to deal with.

Suunri was on the ball with her investigation into Ave. Just not quick enough. Plus, the little 'demonstration' Atom put on might've forced Ave and his backers to play their hand early. Ave's betrayal was expected. The timing wasn't.

Pilar's been roped into the plot as well. But was that really a surprise? The guy would sell out his own sister (literally…) for death sticks. And maybe something stronger… Kyber-spice isn't dead. Zorba sent that boulder rolling down a fucking cliff. Atom diverted its course temporarily but it won't be easily stopped.

After this next chapter, we should be getting our first peek at the wider galaxy. That… will be a doozy of an interlude...]