Yes, but it gets worse.

Won’t anything go right today?

A terrible run of luck left elite mercenary Fennec Shand perched on the back of a speeder, zipping through the middle of Corellia’s largest city, stripped to the waist with only a hand clamped over the tip of each bouncing boob to protect her modesty and professional reputation. Her cheeks burned with the embarrassing thought that she must have looked like some brainless bimbo on a joy ride. Every bump and wiggle of the speeder jiggled her hardened nipples against her palms, serving as a constant reminder of how awkward her situation had become.

What would happen if the members of the Bounty Hunter’s Guild ever caught word of this humiliation?

Fennec's mouth went dry at the thought. It didn’t take much creativity to guess the jeers and come-ons she’d have to endure. Not to mention hunters demanding she model it for them. Would she wind up kneeling topless on a cantina table cupping her breasts to demonstrate while her peers hooted? Her mind said she’d never, but something else inside disagreed.

And what kind of work could she get after that? Only the kinds involving seduction or going undercover in strip clubs. Or worse, no one would give her work at all and she’d wind up in those clubs making ends meet. Images of her being **** to survive shaking her ass like a Twi’lek danced in her mind, leaving her red-faced and warm despite the chilly winds.

Fennec shook out of her rumination when a blaster bolt scorched the airspeeder’s hull. How could she get daydreaming and forget the speeder-load of syndicate enforcers chasing them? Stupid pheromones!

“Can’t you lose them?” she pleaded.

“Here’s my best move” cried Ofe. He climbed along the side of a building so steeply, Fenec had to hook her bare toes on the seat behind her to keep from sliding off. As he passed just above the building top, the airspeeder dove again, twisting to the right as he yelled, "Hang on!"

With both hands pressed to her breasts, she had none free to hang on to anything. Fennec found herself rising off the speeder as it dropped away beneath her. Luckily the small hole in her skirt caught on the seat and pulled back down. Unluckily, without the straps of the halter attached, she slid easily out the top of the dress.

With a quiet whoosh the airspeeder and her dress sped away into the night with the syndicate speeder in hot pursuit. Fennec was abandoned midair in who knew what part of the city wearing nothing but a blush and lacy white panties.

“You dumb Ofe,” she muttered as she dropped toward the roof a few meters below.