Chapter 4

Silvi Khan raises her black hood and walks down the ramp of her ship, a silver Z-Type Nubian transport. Night is falling in this part of Coruscant, and the city is beautiful. The lights of the towers going up and the lines of traffic form a grid of light that seems to go all the way to the heavens.

The spaceport is busy at this hour, and several other ships have landed on this platform.

A woman strides quickly toward Silvi’s black-robed figure, an official here to make a log of new arrivals.

With a simple flick of the **** from Silvi, the woman’s shimmery golden top pops open, and her breasts bounce free. She drops her tablet with a shriek and tries to cover herself.

As the woman struggles with her outfit, Silvi walks serenely past without giving her name or checking in. The ship is registered to a moisture farm far from Moraband.

It is Silvi’s first visit to Coruscant, but she is not overwhelmed even though there is so much to see and hear. Moraband is similar, but instead of machines, here there are living creatures.

There were living creatures on Naboo at the temple of the Gungan Hidden Grass Clan, but not anymore. It was a difficult battle, though. Considerably more difficult than Silvi expected. She’s still sore, but that task is done. Only one more remains: to destroy the woman who made that recording and released it to the galaxy.

Silvi makes her way to a spectacular balcony, part of a sprawling bar that’s full of customers. She is far from the only one on Coruscant keen to hide her face, so no one spares her a second glance because of her hood. Anyone who looks closely will only see the face of a pale Togruta, which is common enough.

She takes in the view and a deep breath, then gathers her focus. Total concentration is needed.

A slight rattle disturbs her. Silvi turns to see an arrogant-looking human leading two nude, Twi’lek slaves by slender, golden chains. Silvi gazes at the smooth, green skin and the swaying hips of the Twi’leks as they walk away.

Then she remembers herself. Silvi clears her throat and turns back to the city, reaching out with the ****.

The Jedi are here. Lots of them.

So is that woman, just as the Master said. Silvi met the Bounty Hunter on Hoth. There had been time to kill. Silvi never got the woman’s name, she just took what she needed from her and left her in peace. It had been good, better than most of the brief, anonymous flings that Silvi likes to have whenever her travels allow.

But it still meant nothing, and now that she knows what this woman did, she has no qualms about killing her. To record someone without her knowledge is deeply problematic, even in the eyes of a Sith. This woman must be punished.

Coruscant is too large and too populous to search with anything but the ****. The Dark Side will not let her down; it never has. She leaves the bar, renting a speeder and taking off into the crowded night sky. In the speeder, she opens the top and lets down her hood to feel the cool breeze.

Silvi reaches out to the Dark Side, remembering that woman and their brief time together. The rough, fervent ride in the bed, the feel of her hands all over her. The sight of the spent Bounty Hunter lying underneath her, covered in Silvi’s cum. She particularly remembers that chaste little kiss that the Bounty Hunter left on her cheek when they said goodbye. The thought makes her smile, and her feelings guide her. She steers the flyer toward one of the shorter buildings, only a few hundred floors high. It’s elaborate and bright, a high-class building.

There, she pays to land her speeder and gets out, putting up her hood again as she enters.

It’s a gambling den, a big one. Official, by the look of things, but the **** tells her that many of the people who surround her are criminals. The gamblers are well dressed, and playing hard underneath a ceiling of pink, crystal chandeliers. The place is run by Twi’leks, and Silvi quickly spots the one in charge: a tall, elegant female with bright, yellow skin. She wears a sheer, silver dress that hugs her delicate curves, and her lips are painted white.

She doesn’t matter tonight. Silvi doesn’t see the Bounty Hunter, and she does remember what she looks like: a slim woman, tall and rugged, with short, messy dark hair and a face that looks nice in the right lighting. She smirks a lot and walks with a sort of swagger that’s meant to look confident, but it doesn’t. It just shows off her shapely rear end. It’s a pity she has to die. Silvi doesn’t hate the idea of spending another hour or two with her if the opportunity presents itself.

The Bounty Hunter isn’t here, but Silvi trusts her feelings. She pauses beside a table where a game of chance is being played.

Silvi watches with interest as the finely dressed, slightly drunk men and women around the table place their bets and roll a chance cube.

A new round begins, and she takes the place of a woman who just lost the last of her money.

“Ten thousand credits on green,” she says, leaning on the table. The others around the table applaud politely.

“Ooh,” a slinky Togruta wearing only strings purrs beside her.

The droid throws the cube, and Silvi effortlessly manipulates it with the ****, placing it on green. The applause is louder now. She takes her credits and leaves the table, making her way up to a balcony, where intimate booths wait. She sits, and a Twi’lek in a short, tight dress brings her a drink.

Silvi puts all her credits on the waitress’ tray.

“Oh,” the waitress says, sitting down beside her very close. “I see.”

Silvi has a good view of the club from here. The waitress disappears beneath the table, moving Silvi’s robes out of the way. Silvi sips her drink as the waitress wraps her lips around Silvi’s cock. Truthfully, Silvi has needed some relief since the speeder ride. Using the **** to tap into that lust and that connection stoked something inside her, and she needs relief to be able to concentrate. She can’t use the **** effectively when she’s distracted.

Under the table, the waitress licks and slurps. In the booth, Silvi gets comfortable.

Now she waits.