SW:CES:TPM/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Tatooine/Leave the Royal Starship/Slavers/Exchange/Accept
"We have a deal. My group for one of your slaves." You cave. Your stomach turns, disgusted with what you're doing, but your dick throbs as you cast an eye over the Duros' property, their nubile flesh moistened with sweat from the desert suns.
"Agreed. But watch your step, human. I intend to protect what's mine." The alien assures you, priming his blaster.
You lead the way back to Queen Amidala's ship. Between the element of surprise, and some devious usage of mind suppression powers, you're able to subdue the entire crew with minimal resistance. Of course, the psychological effect of seeing one of their comrades practically cleaved in two by a Gamorrean's waraxe may also have broke the Queen's guard's resolve. The Duros chides his employee for wasting a perfectly viable slave.
The fighting over, you help the slavers bind the Naboo and carry them out of the ship. The Duros has his crew seperate them into two piles: One for the fit, muscular guardsmen, another for the beautiful, shapely Handmaidens and their Queen. It's obvious what new careers these groups will be going onto once the slaver unloads them.
"You spoke the truth, Jedi. You've brought me good stock." The red-eyed alien observes.
"And I expect you to keep your word, Duros." You respond, desperately anticipating your reward.
"Of course. Take your pick."
Naturally, it doesn't take you long to decide. You go for the Twi'lek you spied earlier. Her blue skin is captivating, reminiscent of the colour of your lightsaber.
The slaver groans with annoyance at your choice.
"She was to be a toy for a very wealthy Hutt." He complains. "Would have made me rich."
"But not as rich, I think, as the Queen of Naboo and her handmaidens." You say defensively. And of course, you neglect to mention Amidala's short one servant.
"You may have a point." He concedes. "Zuliana, come. You belong to the human now."
The blue-skinned beauty nods demurely, before wordlessly joining you at your side.
The slavers prepare to leave. The guardsmen are forced to their feet and made to walk, hands still bound, under the watchful eye of the slavers. The women, if only because they're worth more money, are freed, stripped and allowed to join the other slaves on the barge.
One, still recognizable as the Queen due to her white and red facepaint, breaks from the group and stands before you.
"How could you do this?!" Amidala demands. "You're a Jedi! A guardian of the Republic, a-"
The Duros raises his hand, and one of the Gamorreans hurls the haughty Queen to the ground, sending her facefirst into the sand. Taking one of her stocking-clad legs, her drags her towards the barge.
"She will have to be broken in first." The Duros notes.
"Oh, I wish I could be there for that." You smirk, imagining Amidala being made to accept her new station.
"We could always use ruthless sorts like you." The Duros offers. "You can find us in Mos Quila in a standard week should you need the work."
"I'll think about it." You tell him.
"You sold out your companions for personal gain. I think you'll do very well on Tatooine regardless." The slaver said. From most, it would come off as back-handed. From a criminal like him, it seemed to be a genuine compliment.
As your left alone (well, give or take your new property), you feel exhilarated. From infancy, you've obeyed the Jedi and their dogma. Arriving on this sandy, vice-filled planet, you've betrayed the Code, and come off pretty well for it. You feel as though you could do anything, though as your eyes are drawn to Zuliana's attractive lekku, full, birthing figure and ragged outfit, doing one thing seems to dominate your newly corrupted mind.