To Hide in the Alley

Someone once told Fennec things happened fast on Corellia. They didn't know the half of it. She had landed as a feared mercenary, a **** of danger, wrapped from head to toe in armor and armaments and an hour later she was fleeing a syndicate butt-naked with her arms bound, running down an alley through the middle of the Core's largest unlicensed market, trying desperately to hide her skin from its throng of customers. Fennec told herself, things could be worse... she just wasn't sure how.

Bare feet padded down the alley's uneven pavement. With her hands trapped behind her, there was no way to stop her bare breasts from bouncing wildly as she ran. Several meters on, she tucked herself behind a discarded box and whimpered as her sore buttocks pressed against the rough cement wall. A quick peak showed that, to her surprise, no one noticed the naked woman fleeing the stall.

She jumped at a clatter from the other end of the alley with a most un-assassin-like, "Eep!" that sent her boobs swaying again. Between the firefight, the speeder chase, and getting stripped, packed, spanked, and groped, Fennec's brain and heart rate were racing at lightspeed. Curling up in a vain attempt to cover her exposed flesh, she tried to will her body and mind back under control and pondered if it was the chill in the air or night's excitement that had her prominent nipples standing up so proudly on her modest breasts.

Fennec took a deep breath. She needed to break this down, step by step. First, she needed to get rid of the plastic wrap trapping her arms. After that all she had to do was stay out of sight of the hundreds of market goers around her, steal some clothes, cross the city on foot, evade roving bands of Black Sun enforcers looking for her, sneak into a patrolled starport, and get off world.

"Easy," she mumbled to herself with an eye-roll.

There was another clatter in the alley that made her shrink into the shadows. Carefully leaning her head out from behind a garbage bin just barely enough to take in the scene. The source of the sound was a small paint-droid, the kind used to primer walls and marking traffic lanes. The thing was roving almost at random up and down the alley, spraying strings of words and haphazard graffiti in sparkling colors along the walls. She sighed in relief. Obviously malfunctioning droids like that were not an uncommon nuisance in larger cities.

Focus on the first step. She scanned the alleyway for anything she could use to break the plastic binding her. A smile spread over her oval face. That just might work!