The Exotic Human Girl

Marlow walked through the damp, maze like corridors of the palace, still trying to process the realization he had made in the Throne Room. Zarren and Jarvas walked in front of him, their arms around the waists of the **** girls that Jabba had provided them.

Zarren had taken the green twi'lek since, as he put it, he'd “Always had a thing for tail-heads.” Jarvas had then picked the zeltron, murmuring some compliment about her eyes even though Marlow had yet to see him look up from the girl's enormous breasts.

That had left Marlow with the dark-skinned human girl, who now walked demurely beside him. Not that he was complaining. All of these women were beautiful enough to be models in the Core Worlds under less tragic circumstances.

His compatriots were busy regaling the giggling courtesans with tales of their adventures from across the galaxy, most of which were highly exaggerated. Marlow barely listened, still thinking about the golden-garbed **** leashed to Jabba's throne.

He had already spent a good amount of time trying to convince himself that he was wrong, that it was impossible that Jabba's favorite could be the former Princess of Alderaan. But he could not get her face and voice out of his head. The more he replayed their brief interaction in the Courtroom, the more convinced he became that he had just unwittingly discovered the fate of Leia Organa, the former Rebel leader who had long been presumed dead.

This realization brought an entirely new, more concerning, question in Marlow’s mind. What could he possibly do with this information?

Marlow had once been an Alliance soldier, a fact he had kept hidden from his current comrades. After the failed attack on the second **** Star, he and many others had been **** to desert the cause, disappearing into the Outer Rim and the illicit job opportunities it held. What little remained of the Rebel Alliance had been **** back into hiding, scattered into separate factions across the galaxy.

Even at the Rebellion’s height, a full scale **** on Jabba's palace would have been a risky endeavor. Now it would be a suicide mission.

Going to them with this discovery would likely do little good… which left him with two unenviable choices. Try to forget what he had seen on Jabba's throne… or do something incredibly stupid himself.

Before he could begin to process the consequences of these decisions, his thoughts were interrupted by Zarren's gruff voice.

“What the matter boy? You’ve hardly touched your ‘reward’.” He said over his shoulder, giving a firm slap to the ample emerald backside of his twi’lek companion. The **** girl gave a convincing moan of appreciation, her lekku wriggling pleasurably together. Either she was well trained or she actually enjoyed the smuggler’s crude attention.

Zarren was of course referring to the **** that had been assigned to Marlow. In truth, if he hadn’t been so distracted by the image of the Princess in her skimpy harem attire, he probably would have found it difficult to keep his eyes off of the girl now standing at his side.

He could not place exactly where she was from, but based on her exotic almond-shaped eyes and bronzed skin she was likely from one of the more tropical Outer Rim planets. Her dark glossy hair was also entwined with thin, golden wire, something he had heard was a cultural practice in that part of the galaxy.

She was gorgeous, and Marlow could not help but feel some amount of guilt as his eyes were drawn to her thick lips, light puffy nipples, and bald sex; all visible beneath scant scraps of pink veil that made up her costume. The diaphanous pieces of cloth that draped over her face, and each of her intimate regions, only gave the barest illusion of concealment.

Marlow could not blame Zarren for being suspicious as to why his attention could be on anything other than her.

Before he could answer, however, Jarvas came to his aid.

"Give the kid a break" The older spacer said "I remember the first time I met Jabba, it took me a bit to get my bearings after seeing what he did to that Oola slut..."

“Fine.” Zarren agreed reluctantly but stopped to turn and face Marlow “ Just don’t let your wide eyes draw too much attention to yourself hayseed, enjoy our host’s gift and then meet us back at the Throne Room for Jabba’s Party.”

Marlow was in disbelief. “A party?” He asked “I don’t remember Jabba mentioning a party.”

Zarren laughed at this “That’s because Jabba is always throwing a party. He’ll expect us to make an appearance so just find a place in the back and try not to get yourself killed.”

Marlow had hoped he wouldn’t have to go back to the Hutt’s court. Seeing the woman he had admired for years leashed to the slug again would not make his decision any easier. But from Zarren’s tone it did not sound like there was any room for debate.

“Yes sir.”

“Good” Zarren said with a nod as the group rounded a corner to a hallway lined with doors. Jarvas handed them each card keys, and they went to their individual rooms with their female companions.

Marlow watched his shipmates eagerly pull their woman with them into their rooms, the doors hissing closed as they disappeared inside. He then turned to his ****, who continued to stand silently behind him, wondering if he should say anything to her.

Instead he said nothing and awkwardly ran his card over the scanner. It unlocked with a beep and the door hissed open, lights flickering on automatically, showing a small sparse chamber with a single bed and several cushions littering the floor.

He politely motioned for the girl to enter first and, after giving him an odd look, she stepped into the room. Marlow watched as she walked, staring at her impressive curves sway with her minuscule pink loincloth.

His thoughts on the Princess would have to wait for a moment...