Rage Against The Dark Ch 1

Y'all get writing update here. Not much to say. Just that this is the third and final one of my starting 'commissioned' stories. A week from now (or maybe a week extra, this week and weekend are looking packed) I'll open up a snippets/commissions thread, and finally start posting these publicly.
For now, hope you lot enjoy this one! Four more chapters coming in. Lemme know if you like.
Many thanks to Leecifer for agreeing for the minor cameo on this story.
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It took me nine shots, but I was able to drop the Elite’s shields, its own return fire splashing off my shields. I took the time to switch off my pilfered M392 for my taped together abomination of a nail gun and shot it with a triangulation spike. It looked down at the small sliver of metal that had failed to penetrate its breastplate and looked up at me, splaying its mandibles in what I assumed was a smile.
“Wort wort wort.” It said mockingly, before, with a muted ‘pop!’ it disappeared. Insta-stamped and auto-sold.
The still living Grunts did not take this at all well and started running around like chickens with their heads cut off. This, of course, made it a simple matter to tag them, sending them all to the tender mercies of the Company.
I looked at the Nail-gun and mourned that this loophole for Stamp use was only available during situations like the one I was in now, a final where the situation was deemed doomed enough that the protocols for Stamp deployment could be loosened up without the White-Hats getting involved.
After all, waiting three days would be useless when everyone in the planet will be dead in two.
Still…Being able to triangulation spike away any-and-all of my troubles would be a godsend.
I knew the humans I’d Stamped were going to get put into indentured servitude. The briefing mentioned the Company needed some settlers in a new colony.
If they played their cards right, their children would get to be Company citizens.
The Genocidal Aliens…well, who knew, but a good percentage of the Company was human, or human adjacent. I was confident they'd not get an easy time of it. Hopefully the Grunts would get a better deal than the Elites I’d been dumping on them for the last few days.
My HUD pinged, reminding me that I had met my quota and could leave at any time. But I minimized the prompt again. I had a personal mission.
The Final Exam stipulated that we could keep any of our Captures, they just wouldn’t count toward our total. So, I'd set out to get my prize. I’d tried to get Lee and Steven to come with me, but the buggers were adamant on Stamping as many civilians and soldiers as possible.
After all, it was either that or getting glassed. The last transport evacuating people left two days ago. The lives of everyone still on Reach were forfeit.
I myself had benefited greatly. Our insertion point had been at a naval base, they’d done what they could to wipe their drives, but my data jinn and daemons allowed me to recover and download a not insignificant amount of their mainframe.
I got out of there with the blueprints to several UNSC ships, along with their newest model of heavy frigate.
Or, well, most of the blueprints. There were gaps in a few systems that I'd have to fill with 40k and Battletech bits to make them work.
I shook my head and concentrated. My goal had not been with this group either.
It took a while, but I eventually found what I was looking for.
A Covenant Engineer, floating about with nary a care in the world, taking bits of tech apart and putting it back together.
This was the third one I found, but the first one not surrounded by so many other Covenant as to make taking it a suicide run. I’d use the nail gun, but I’d had to program that to ‘sell’ for it to quickly get rid of whatever I shot with it, if I used it on the engineer, I’d lose it forever.
I waited for it to be immersed in something, moving closer as quickly and soundlessly as I could. When I was close enough, I pounced, took hold of one of its tentacles and pressed my Stamp against it.
It wriggled, but I wasn’t about to lose this opportunity because I may well not get another. It failed to undo my death grip for the requisite three seconds.
I still counted to ten, just in case, then let go, ran, and called up my exfil prompt. A gate appeared before me and I ran through it, the sound of the Covenant I’d barely managed to avoid following me through, before shutting suddenly off.
I marked that I was keeping the Engineer as a personal familiar, then allowed myself to fall to the ground.
Fuck in all hell that had been stressful.
“Glad to see you so full of energy, Agent.”
I raised my head to look at the speaker. Akane Tsunemori stared back, a soft smile on her face. The conditioned response caused by my time in Basic ensured there was only one thing I could do in this situation.
I forced exhausted limbs to move, shot to my feet and saluted the sadistic monster before me. It didn't matter that the top of her head barely reached my chin, she had more than proven that she was a lot tougher than I'd be for a long time.
The time when she tore Kana’s still beating heart out of her chest, took a bite out of it, shoved it back in the bitch and healed her…that would be one of my most cherished memories for a very long time.
I was relatively certain I’d crawled my way into being one of her favorites through the innovative method of ‘shut up and do as I was told without complaining.’ It didn't net me much, but it would hopefully net me just enough.
“Are you aware you have a rather severe case of radiation poisoning?” She asked, tilting her head slightly.
“I suspected as much, ma’am.”
“None of that, Alex, you're an Agent now, from this moment on you outrank me.”
I did not relax my posture in the least. “As you say, ma’am.”
Her smile softened slightly, and she waved for me to relax, at the same time sending a pulse of magic at me. Healing me of a good few aches, scrapes, and second-degree burns.
“Why exactly did you get yourself a severe case of radiation poisoning?”
“Kinda the price to be paid for jailbreaking this Covenant shield module. Ma’am.”
She digested that and nodded. “Very well, come with me.”
I wordlessly followed her as she led me to her office. Once there, she motioned for me to sit.
She interlaced her fingers, leaned forward and rested her chin on them. “You stuck with a squad through most of this exercise, not your squad.” She said the last with some annoyance but continued. “But a squad. I won't bother asking why you abandoned your first squad.” With Kana, Mandy, Bub and Stewart on the team, we had rightfully been labeled ‘the fuckups’ thankfully, squads were only valid until we stepped through the portal.
“What did happen to the rest of my squad?” I asked.
“Kana got them all killed when she walked out of a building and tried to seduce a Brute.”
Very glad I didn't try to carry the fuckups like I did through the rest of Basic.
Akane shook her head. “You worked well with Lee’s squad. Dare I say it, your habitual salvage of battlefield debris and damaged equipment was integral to their survival. Though don't think I didn't notice the way you sabotaged Cain’s equipment.”
“Not sabotage.” I interrupted. “Sabotage is deliberate.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So, you are saying you didn’t deliberately hand him equipment that was flawed and whose fault you noticed but didn't mention?”
I grinned. “I did not deliberately put a flaw in that equipment. Besides, I would like to bring to attention the fact that he took the damaged shield module and pushed his own better working one onto me. I had planned to monitor the equipment and provide a quick fix when it became necessary, Cain taking the damaged shield module from me is entirely on him.”
It had been child’s play to manipulate Cain into taking my shield module. Even then, I did far too good a job, his shield didn’t fail for five whole hours, and I'd had to tackle Steven to stop him diving out and dragging the dying A-hole to safety.
After Cain’s death, the remainder of the squad I’d inserted myself into worked much better without him there to fuck it up.
There was also the fact that ridding the multiverse of Cain was objectively a good thing.
As far as Legal would be concerned, Cain brought his death upon himself due to his own paranoia. Unless I confessed to arranging his death, I was covered.
Akane’s thinly veiled disapproval cut me surprisingly deeply. Prime Me hadn’t much cared for the opinions of his teachers. Out of nigh on twenty years of compulsory education, he’d had maybe five teachers he’d personally respected.
The rest left him alone because he had been a Straight A student who kept to himself and didn't cause a bother.
I guess I’d just found my first teacher whose opinions I respected.
Akane sighed. “It is what it is, on better news, I was able to approve your request to be transferred out of Class A.” I did a tiny first bump. “There was a higher-up interested, and he decided to buy out your Contract. You’ll work directly for him. He’s part of acquisitions but seems to be trying to branch out into entertainment.” She gestured at me, and I received contact information and an updated Contract.
If there's one thing that's hammered in Basic, it's that you read the fucking Contract.
It was surprisingly plainly written and short. Only sixteen pages. Hopefully this guy would also be as no-nonsense as his Contract.
I read it three times before signing. I received my access to the Catalog and saw that the world I was going to was preselected, as well as the fact that I had two missions that I needed to accomplish. I was going to Star Wars during the Clone Wars. My first mission was to form an Order of Grey Jedi, my second mission was to ensure Anakin did not Fall and Palpatine died. To facilitate this, a Thought Worm had been seeded into the Universal Cognition, it would lean on the Council to ensure I was made the Chosen One’s Padawan. As a further restriction, I was to stick to Star Wars Equivalent powers and technology or a little above, I couldn't just make my own Necron Tombworld and sashay around in technology so advanced it may as well be magic, and any out of context magic I or my retinue used would need to be able to at least pass itself off as the Force. And lastly, any Templates I purchased had to originate in Star Wars.
Technically a third mission, but this one would be more of a fact of existence. I could use my Stamp to mark anything, from a charge pack to a space station, I would be compensated for this once it was claimed.
I bought a Template of Revan, my favorite Star Wars character.
I went to buy my Talents, and hesitated when I reached the Companions tab.
I did not want to be a slaver, not really, but the Company owned me. Literally, they had a barcode on my Soul. I’d thought I had an out when I’d been sent to do some IT work for Company Equipment purchased and used by The Defenders of Yggdrasil, a subset of the Legion of Heroes.
When I’d begged them to take me on, to remove me from the clutches of the Company. To let me prove that I could be better, the Hero Prime Me had dreamed of being as a child…well.
The kindest thing they’d done was not report my outburst after they told me to shut up and get back to work.
And, frankly, I was tired of being alone. I would never be able to trust another Agent, even now I could think of a few dozen ways Lee could have been lying (the B-itches are known for making the truth do a tapdance after all), or how Steve’s mind may have been twisted up.
I’ve never seen a man glare at meatballs with quite so much hatred. The look of sheer murder he'd thrown my way when I offered him my own summoned rations, which were a choice between ‘Large pail of dried emergency food, just add water and heat for twenty minutes and you have something nutritious, tasty and filling,’ ‘random sandwich from across the multiverse,’ ‘water or a random flavored drink from across the multiverse,’ and lastly ‘random dessert from across the multiverse.’ Well, he hadn't done anything, but I’d slept with one eye open just in case.
Thank You Prime Me for making sacrifices so your Clones would have good food.
I shook my head.
Point was, I wanted a beautiful girlfriend to love and spoil and dick down but good. In fact, I wanted more than one. I wanted a team of beautiful girls who would support me in my endeavors and whose dreams I would help accomplish in turn.
Big titties a bonus, but not a prerequisite.
And damnit, I was weak enough to just purchase one…or a few and make them all happy and loved and dicked down but good.
But my budget was limited, the Company had recently reworked the Catalog, and while thanks to Prime Me I was grandfathered into making use of the utterly broken Catalog. If I wanted to make use of it, I’d have to stay in Class A.
And fuck those guys in particular.
I’d buy or seduce one or two more beautiful ladies, in time. For now, considering I was going into the active Clone Wars, it would not be a bad idea to make sure that, whoever I picked up, could heal my soon to come wounds and such.
I went back and forth on who I would purchase for a good long while but settled on a budget option that could heal above her weight class, if one would be forgiven the mangling of the original statement. I bought her potential in the Force, as well as Paper Trail, requesting she not be in the Jedi Order.
I was not going to let that bunch of dumbass monks get in the way of my horniness.
I paid for a cloned body of me to grow up in the Corusca Galaxy (radiation poisoning was a bitch to fix), and put in a few key requests for my backstory, leaving the rest up to the Existential Techs. I’d fixed enough of their terminals over the years that I was relatively certain they wouldn’t screw me too badly.
I did the same for the Covenant Engineer, which according to my HUD, the species were called ‘Huragoks.’
Live and learn, I guess.
I used my remaining budget to buy Psychic Talent as well as Talent Sharing so my girl would benefit from the advanced speed of learning, Science and Engineering Talents, Martial Talent because Darth-Jedi, and with what remained I bought Information Defense and a few other things to round out my build.
On impulse, I bought a second companion and gave her Force Potential and background papers. Also requesting she wasn’t in the Jedi Order.
I considered customizing what my girls’ talents in the Force would be, but decided against it, I just set it to them having as much power as possible and left whatever they were going to be talented in to develop on its own.
Leaving me with a hefty thirty-six Credits for emergencies.
I considered waiting around for Lee. I doubted he'd die; he was part of a squad of four that worked well together and had Covenant energy shields.
Though I probably should have warned them about the radiation poisoning…
Eh, he’d be fine, and I had a galaxy to save. I saluted Akane one last time and executed my transfer.
I woke up walking through entirely mundane streets, which itself was a weird feeling, as I had not gone to sleep. The personality matrix I was replacing merged into my conscious and subconscious mind with a feeling that can best be described as ‘fucking finally.’ Which, okay, that’s one way not to have to worry about the implication of absorbing a possibly sapient mind.
I was dressed in a black shirt, sturdy cargo pants, steel toe boots and a maroon hoodie. All things that would get me yelled at if I were in the Jedi Temple, which I thankfully wasn’t. I was in the lower upper levels of Coruscant, I’d ‘come in’ while my Personality Matrix had been on his way to visit my Waifu.
I went to a nearby window and studied myself. I hadn’t looked this young in…technically ever, when I was cloned, I was created when I was physically twenty. Now, physically I was fifteen, which was less than ideal, but I was supposed to become Anakin’s Padawan. Still, I looked at my features, shoulder length black hair in a ponytail, dark brown eyes, features at a halfway point between the patrician looks I remembered and the pudgy cheeks of a child. My cheeks and chin were much too smooth for my liking. That would fix itself in time. I tucked the Initiate braid out of the way and continued walking.
Looking through the memories in this body. I was Rylanor Creed, not very original but I liked the name, and it sounded Star Warsy enough in my head. I was fifteen years old Standard.
On my person were my Lightsaber, a compact blaster pistol with a couple power packs, a comms unit and a vibro-knife. Revan’s equipment was in my Pocket Apartment, ready to be donned and used at my leisure.
The reason I’d picked up Revan’s Template over either of the Chosen Ones, aside from Revan being my favorite thing in Star Wars, was that it was theorized that there was nobody in the setting who had learned more of the Force than him.
No human, anyways.
Revan had learned of both the Light and the Dark. He had been able to perform Force Healing in one moment and toss out a Force Lightning Storm the next.
And while my ability to use the Force was utterly corroded in comparison, the knowledge of Revan was at my fingertips. It would take me some time to reach Revan’s lofty heights, but I had the cheat sheet and learning multipliers. It should allow me to catch up with diligent training, faster if I got a good teacher, which Anakin was, once he got his head out of his ass.
I stopped as I really didn’t feel like walking any further, and a detailed review of my new memories showed me it would be at least another hour of walking before I arrived. I subsequently decided on the tactical ‘fuck that noise’ and made my way to a used-speeder dealer. The rodian in charge was skeevy as fuck, and a cursory scan of his emotions assured me he would stiff me for every Republic credit he could get away with.
Jokes on him. I had no money!
“Hey, I’m here to buy an air speeder.” I said with a guileless smile.
“Yes, yes! Here at Roidie’s, you find anything you need!” He said enthusiastically.
I pressed into his mind, it was slimy, but soft and pliant. “Take me to your most reliable air speeder.”
“Come this way!” He said happily. “Most reliable speeder, yes!”
He took me past a number of extremely fancy looking flying cars, to the back where the number of curiously generic, unmarked air speeders gave me the heebie jeebies.
I leaned more heavily on his pliant mind with the Force, an act at once foreign and practiced. “So, what illegal side hustle are you running here?”
“I supply transportation for Syndicate Spice Mules.” He said glibly, dropping the accent. “The used speeder lot serves double duty, providing easy transportation and laundering Credits from other operations.”
“Impressive.” I said. “Have you laundered all of the illegal Credits you have on hand?”
“Not yet.”
I looked at the fifteen thousand credit price tag for the entirely ordinary air speeder, the Corusca Version of a used sedan, and pressed hard into his mind. “Hand me a cred chit with eighteen thousand credits.”
His mind quailed momentarily before folding. “Of course.”
He came back from his office and handed me the credit chit.
I bumped my fist lightly on the side of the speeder. “I’ll take it, cash.” I said and handed him the credit chit he’d just offered me. “If you fill up the tank, you can keep the change.”
“Yeahs sir, me do this for you at once!” He answered, accent back at triple intensity.
He drew up the paperwork, and in record time, I was flying away from the used speeder lot. With the rodian whose name I never bothered learning none the wiser.
I went over my mental roster for who was currently stuck handling menial calls to the Order, and dialed up the Jedi Temple on my communicator.
[You’ve reached the Jedi Temple; how may I direct your call?] Asked a voice that was currently making its perilous journey through puberty.
I put on my most obnoxious, faux Italian accent. “Ay, Caleb. How you doin’ cousin?”
Wait, did Italians use cousin casually like that?
There was a long-suffering sigh on the other side of the line. [What do you want Rylanor?]
“Cousin’ Caleb! You wound me; wound me I say!” I said and swerved my way around, over, and under Coruscant traffic. “Why’sa you think I only call you when I want something? Why Niko, we should go bowling!”
[I’m hanging up now.]
“Alright, alright, jeez.” I said, dropping the accent. “I wanted to report that I found a front for the Syndicate, a hub they use to transport Spice and credit laundering. I’d tell the cops, but that’s likely to end up with the Syndicate finding out I tattled on them before I leave the copper’s office building.”
There was an awkward silence, followed by another long-suffering sigh. [Why is it always something like this with you?]
“It’s not my fault the Force keeps throwing me at these things.” I shot back, and upon review of my native memories, I wasn’t even lying. My personality matrix was very much a troublemaker in the Jedi Order. “Just kick it up the chain brah, anyways I gotta split.”
[Rylanor wait! You can’t just—!]
I hung up and removed the battery from the comms unit. There was a good reason why I wasn’t yet a Padawan and it wasn’t just my winning personality, it was the exact same reason I hadn’t been tossed at the Service Corps. No Knights or Masters wanted to take me, but I was too talented and strong in the Force to be allowed to rot in obscurity.
Further complicating matters was that I’d made it exceedingly clear I was perfectly happy to up and leave the Order and make my own way. The only thing tethering me to the Order, being the possibility of learning more about the Force.
Not much of a problem now, but at this point it’d be awkward to change my stance.
Add to that former me’s decidedly ‘fuck it’ attitude, and I had spent as much time slumming it on Coruscant as in the crèches and rooms of the Jedi Order. A memory of the Jedi taking a whole week to find me after my umpteenth ‘escape’ attempt, and only being caught as I snuck back into the temple surfaced, bringing with it surprising pride.
And in every outing, former me had gotten a feeling, or a compulsion, much like my impulsively barging into a front for criminal activity to ‘purchase’ a speeder.
To date, I had initiated several dozen drug busts, gotten several judges fired, and caused the disappearance of at least one Senator, when the things I leaked got something or another he was in cahoots with to dispose of him.
Pinpricks of good in the storm of rot that was the Republic.
But as the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished.
My, as I liked to call it, ‘precocious independence’ was described by the Jedi as ‘dangerous recklessness’ and ‘rule breaking.’ And they sought to ‘curb such self-destructive impulses.’
I called it censorship.
Of course, ain’t nobody gave a shit about my opinion.
I arrived at the hab block that was my destination and used the Force to convince the parking meter that I’d paid for several hours of parking.
I was glad to see the Company had set up my girls with safe habitation. Coruscant was not what I’d call conducive to a long and healthy life in the middle to lower levels.
Shining jewel of the Republic my ass.
As I got to the elevator to take me to my girls’ floor, I received a call from Sarge.
I blinked and looked flabbergasted at the icon on my HUD. There were a number of reasons why Sergeant Tsunemori might call me, few of them good.
I used the Force to break the camera and microphones in the elevator and answered her call, her upper body appearing on a window in my AR display. I found myself standing at attention. “Sergeant!”
She smiled softly. [Agent.]
“What can I do for you, ma’am?”
She visibly hesitated to speak, which worried me. [I…I need to ask you for a big favor.]
“Name it, ma’am.”
She nodded, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. [My Master needed IS Cores for an experiment, sourcing their acquisition would have taken a couple of weeks, but he did not want to wait. So he bought an Infinite Stratos Set.]
“A significantly faster delivery, if much more expensive Credit Wise.” I said into the silence as she fumed.
Sergeant Tsunemori nodded. [Well, he bought them, took away their IS Cores, and has instructed me to sell them back to the Company to recoup some of his Credits.]
I felt myself paling. Agents like me were a combination of a Workhorse and an Elite group in the Company. Anyone born into the Company was a Citizen of the Company, they had a (very) few guaranteed rights, protections, and freedoms, with a certainty of employment and a guarantee of bettering their lot in life if they were hard working and cunning enough. With that certainty getting better the higher you climbed on good old Nepotism. Say what you will about the Company (and there was a lot to say, most of it negative) but those under its umbrella had, for the most part, access to three square meals a day, a job, and numerous ways to better their lot in life if they played their hand right.
Waifus got a far rawer deal. The lucky ones among them were second-class citizens. Much more often than not, they were property. Agents who held my view, that they were people…we were in the minority. Steve had claimed to be one, Lee…well he was a B-itch, those shifty fucks made the truth dance a pretty jig and he’d never plainly said one way or the other.
Waifus who were sold back to the Company? Those were Used Goods.
The Class A instructors had gleefully told us that, if there was a particularly depraved and harmful fetish we wanted to get off our chest but didn’t want to damage our Waifu, we should just get a Used Goods copy and use that for catharsis because it’s less expensive in the long run.
It didn’t matter if the girls Akane spoke of were factory new barring some lost equipment. If they were sold back to the Company, they’d be Used Goods and, unless Akane could secure them a Master that would treat them well, their lives would be short and brutal.
At best.
I mulled it over. While I could buy most of the lot, I didn’t particularly want to, I already had a team picked out, but I couldn’t say no to Akane’s pleading eyes, so I resolved myself to a little white lie. “I don’t have much. I’ve spent just about all I had getting myself set up.”
[Whatever you can do would be appreciated. I just want to find these girls a good home. I’ve been,] she grimaced in anger, [cleared to sell them at four Credits each.]
Which, again, not great. These girls had lost their primary power, had it literally ripped from them. Demanding a barely discounted price? That would make Sergeant Tsunemori’s task all the harder.
I nodded. “Sad to say, I can only take one off your hands.”
[Understood. Here are your choices, once the purchase is completed the delivery will be made automatically. I’m sorry to cut off so abruptly, but I don’t have much time to find these girls a good home. Stay safe, Alex.]
Without so much as a ‘by your leave’ she hung up. I couldn’t really blame her; anyone she didn’t manage to find a home for would not have a good time.
I looked through the options, pleasantly surprised to see I had the pick of the proverbial litter. I was the first she’d thought of when she ran into this conundrum. Or the first that had agreed.
If it was the former, I found the fact strangely touching.
Nonetheless, I’m an Agent of my word. I made my purchase and waited. Not two minutes later, a portal opened next to me and a beautiful blonde girl was pushed through, she stumbled and fell to her knees, reaching a hand out to the portal as it winked closed.
Her voice, when she spoke, was mellifluous and so much like Sergeant Tsunemori’s, with just a hint of a French accent. “Wait! Wait give him back!” She croaked, then hugged her knees to her chest and wept.
I walked on over, the girl so distraught she didn’t even notice. I knelt next to her and hugged her.
She leaned into the embrace and pressed her face to my chest to weep, desperate for the slightest comfort.
I rubbed slow circles in her lower back as I pressed my Stamp gently to the back of her neck. My HUD pinged and gave me a notice denoting Charlotte Dunois’ transfer of ownership.
I held her and patted her head, using my HUD to change the location of the Stamp so it would be on her mons.
I emanated compassion and let her cry herself out until she descended into hiccups. Keeping her face buried on my chest and holding me tight.
“They took him.” She said, brokenly.
“Yes.” I answered.
“Why? Raphael…he’s mine. We’ve always been together.” Her hands bunched into fists, pulling hard on my shirt. “Why?”
“Some people are needlessly cruel.” I said, hugging her harder against me. “And do bad things because they can.”
“It’s not fair!”
“It isn’t.”
She went back to crying angry, bitter tears.
I put an arm beneath her legs and one under her back and picked her up off the floor.
Using my HUD, I purchased potential in the Force for her under the same conditions as my other two, as well as a paper trail so she’d have a legal identity. That combined with what I spent on the girl herself dropping my emergency fund to twenty-one Credits.
“Brace yourself, you’re about to receive a power, and since you’re awake for it, it’ll hurt.” I said.
A moment later she curled up and hissed as she was imbued with raw Force Potential, biting her lip to remain quiet.
As we neared my floor, I reached out with the Force and broke the cameras and microphones of the five nearest floors. I should probably erase the video on the building’s archive before I leave.
People would be able to tell someone was hiding something, but hopefully they’ll assume it was more plausible than a Jedi initiate holding a crying girl not native to the universe.
Speaking of, her breathing had slowed and she was looking at me reproachfully.
“Think you can stand?” I asked.
She pouted but nodded.
“Good.” I said and set her down gently. “There is one more power I need to grant you, don’t worry, this one won’t hurt.”
She looked at me wearily. “What power would th-mph!?”
She really was not expecting me to kiss her, her eyes going wide and her tongue utterly failing to push mine out of her mouth. For the fun of it, I made my saliva into a mild aphrodisiac, flooding her mouth as I held the back of her head to keep her in place.
I pulled her to me, pressing her body to mine as I pushed my thigh between her suddenly weak legs. Her struggles losing strength until eventually she held my shoulders and kissed me back, clumsily but enthusiastically. Forced to swallow our mingled spit, her excitement growing and clouding her mind.
I used the intimacy of the kiss to penetrate her essence with the Force, flooding her with my power, working through the mental exercise we went over in Basic on how to create bonds of power.
She gasped and shuddered, instinctively rubbing herself against my thigh as the energy of my Soul filled her, settling heavily in her core, I took two handfuls of her pert and toned derriere, squeezed and pulled her hard against me, my power having filled her to such an extent that she was trembling with excitement and unreleased energy.
Then the delicate balance tipped, my energy overflowed, filling her beyond her capacity, she screamed into my mouth as she climaxed, her legs turning to jelly as her mouth ran dry. I ground her down against my thigh, extending her orgasm as I forcibly forged a Force Bond with her.
It was not unlike the Force Bond a Jedi Master forged with his Padawan. Except this one wasn’t Master and Apprentice.
The Force Bond I made with Charlotte would instinctively make her more subservient to my desires, she’d be able to tell what I wanted and subconsciously move to fulfill what I needed and would derive pleasure from said fulfillment. In return, I had a constant understanding of her location, going from ‘vaguely that direction’ and getting more accurate the closer I came to her.
I’d need only concentrate to get a feeling for her general health as well as her state of mind, and I could use the bond as the backbone for telepathic communications between us and to a degree, affect her emotional state.
Yes, there was something of a power imbalance baked into this bond, and someone who knew what they were doing would have been able to stop its creation. And the bond was quite permanent, the only one with the authority to sever the bond was me, meaning her only other recourse for being rid of the bond was death.
With my Stamp on her it was rather superfluous, as the more Pavlovian effects of this bond were already granted by the Stamp. But now, if anything were to happen to her, I’d know immediately, no matter the distances separating us.
Once her moans turned to pained mewls, I let off and let her rest. Once the doors opened, I helped her walk unsteadily all the way to the nearest broom closet, as once we made it to the apartment, introductions would kill the mood, and I was not going to let introductions cock block me.
The moment I was in the maintenance closet, I’d pushed Charlotte against the wall, my tongue into her mouth, and my hand inside her underwear. The poor girl was so overwhelmed, she grabbed hold of my forearm and simply let me molest her at leisure.
Her panties were soaked, her pussy hot and wet and welcoming. She gasped as I caressed her sex and squealed when I pushed my middle finger inside her to the first knuckle. Her virgin channel clamping down hard on my digit.
Changing my plans for the quickie on the fly, I got on my knees, pulled her underwear down to her knees, smiled at the trimmed bush that greeted me and dove at her snatch. I lapped up her love juice and explored her sex with my tongue.
The girlish grunt as she bit her lip not to scream brought a smile to my face, her breath getting faster and more irregular. I made things harder on her by switching to licking a circle around her clit. It wasn’t long before she shuddered through her second climax, hissing through her teeth.
This time when her legs gave out under her, I set her down slowly on the ground. She was sweaty, her skin flushed, and her hair disheveled. Her legs as spread as her panties would allow, giving me a very nice view, it was nice to see that the carpet did indeed match the drapes.
I took her underwear the rest of the way off while she was out of it, stood, and brought my cock out of its painful confines.
Charlotte was brought to a sudden clarity of thought when eight inches of stiff, pulsating meat nearly smacked her in the face.
I ran a hand gently through her hair. “Come on, it’s your turn to make me feel good.”
If she’d been of clearer mind, she probably would have protested. Instead, she nodded and leaned forward, studying my member with frightened fascination before daintily licking the shaft.
Her tongue was hot and wet, and it felt good as it glided over my dick. I enjoyed the attention for a bit before I grabbed the back of her head and gently but firmly pressed the head of my cock to her lips.
Getting the message, she parted her lips and took the head of my cock into her mouth. She then surprised me by gliding gracefully forward, swallowing me into her throat like a champion, not stopping until her nose was buried in my pubes.
She then wrapped her arms around my hips and began to swallow, making an obscene but very arousing ‘Gluck! Gluck! Gluck!’ sound.
“Fffffuck!” I hissed, putting both hands on her head and pulling her harder against me, grinding myself into her face.
I didn’t hold myself back as the pressure in my loins built up quickly, and it was not long before I came straight down the French girl’s throat, locking my legs to force myself not to fall on my ass.
Once I stopped, she drew herself back, my dick, lathered with her spit, exiting her throat slowly, until it came fully out of her mouth with a ‘pop!’
Charlotte then pressed her head to my groin and tried to get her breathing under control, occasionally kissing or licking my scrotum, which did things but now was certainly not the time.
Once I was able to string more than two words together, I said. “That was, fucking incredible. But by how tight you are, I could have sworn you were a virgin.”
Charlotte laughed, when she spoke, her voice was a little scratchy. “I am, but there was a boy I liked, so I practiced on bananas and cucumbers. Never quite got around to making use of that practice.”
I chuckled, running my fingers through her hair, she shivered and leaned into my touch. “Well, you’re a natural.”
She giggled.
We spent a few minutes getting ourselves presentable again, Charlotte had a bit of a panic when I refused to return her underwear.
She walked out of the maintenance closet with her legs pressed firmly together and a nearly nuclear blush on her face. Altogether, I’d say my attempt to distract her from the loss of her Infinite Stratos was a success. At least for now.
I took her hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, and made my way to the apartment door. I was going to need to have my fun before I got sent to the front, once I was actively fighting in the Clone Wars, the chances to bend one of my girls over the nearest table and pounding away at them until they squealed would be few and far between.
But that was a problem for future me. I licked my lips, today was going to be fun.