Sunbathing

Working at the building formerly known as Jabba's Palace came with some perks, one of which was exploring the place. There were chambers meant for holding court, others for celebration, others for relaxation and, yes, others for far more concerning purposes. Still, it was grander than any place Drash had gotten into before.

The fact she'd been invited here just made it easier to relax and take the whole place in. Curtains and wall-hangings that pre-dated Bib Fortuna and that Boba hadn't bothered to take down, a display room for various tributes the palace had received, and just a level of sturdiness that most of Tatooine lacked.

Compared to her usual hang-outs in Mos Espa, even the long-abandoned upper levels were the heights of luxury. On her off-hours, Drash liked to go up there, parking her bike by the gates and sneaking in through the front gates. Fett tended to not through as elaborate a gathering as Jabba, and had little time for frivolities, so a lot of the palace stayed quiet. Drash hadn't seen anyone beyond cleaning droids on the upper few levels.

She walked out onto the warm, bronze surface of the roof, slipping out through a hatch probably meant for less leisurely reasons. Still, she liked this spot too - she could see the city from up here. The view of the sand, the rock formations, the twin suns, was incomparable.

After a few minutes, exhausted from a day of surveilling a potential threat, Drash walked out a little way onto the bronze rooftop. Up here, there was no way she could be seen from the ground unless she stood up tall.

She felt more like lying down; she needed a rest. Wiping her brow, Drash pulled off her jacket, and kicked off her shoes to weigh it down. There was still a breeze up here. Another reason she liked the place was that at this altitude, the wind carried almost none of Tatooine's ubiquitous sand. She lay down, exhausted.

After a couple of minutes in the sunlight, Drash stirred, glanced up through a half-closed eye at the clear sky, and shrugged. She pulled off her shirt, and wriggled out of her pants - for a Tatooine native, she had almost no tan compared to most of her species. It was something she'd always meant to work on and, well, she might as well while she was up here.

Drash glanced out again - when she was content that the rooftop was suitably secluded, and out of sight, her underwear joined the rest of her clothes. She didn't want to worry about tan-lines.

Then, still exhausted, Drash paused for a moment, considering. After a little, she reached for her metal arm, squeezing it with her hand and adjusting a few secluded switches; with a hiss, it detached, leaving just a blank metal circle adjacent to her shoulder. Re-attaching was easy, but she needed something to weigh her clothes down, and it sometimes started to react slowly if it got too hot as it was.

Nude, Drash walked out to a more open spot and lay down on the warm roof, facing up and closing her eyes. She let the tiredness of the day wash over her, and closed her eyes. The suns' rays gently fell over her body.

Yeah. There were upsides to this whole assignment. She could recover, enjoy a nice looking palace, and work on her tan.

It was nice to be able to really enjoy the heat of her planet, rather than just bake under it. Drash lay still, letting her mind wander and go blank.

She stood out against the dark brown surface of the palace, body bare. Her messy, dark hair was spread out around her head, incongruous compared with the patch of blonde between her legs. She shifted, and genuinely felt relaxed as the minutes ticked by.

Until she heard someone clear their throat and quickly sat up, lone arm crossing tightly across her breasts as she looked up to see who it was.