Chapter 9

Flying a ship with one hand is a bitch, but Blu has had to do it once before. She was in such a hurry to depart Coruscant that she’s still naked in the pilot’s seat as she rockets into hyperspace.

Jedi. Dark Jedi. Crimson Dawn.

This is bad. And with Crimson Dawn in the mix, likely looking for her, that limits her options. There aren’t many places she can go and have any expectation of being safe. Running is still the only option. She needs to lie low for a while. Maybe people will forget about these recordings if she stays off the radar long enough. There are plenty of bounties to chase in the outer rim. She can still make a living. She just has to be careful.

She groans as the ship shakes. Her body is sore and aching from all those shocks and the long run on bare feet. It doesn’t help that half of Coruscant saw her naked. She’ll have to go back one day, though. To kill Jayo. If that little Twi’lek minx thinks she’s getting away with what she did back there, then she’s going to get some bad news right before she gets a bullet in the face.

At least Blu managed to get her blaster out with her, although her holster and magazines were left behind with her clothes. That wouldn’t matter with a modern blaster, but accessories for an antique are hard to get.

That’s OK, though. She’s going to a place where anyone can get anything.

The ship emerges from hyperspace in view of a sprawling space station in the middle of nowhere. This is Commerce-1. It used to be owned by the Trade Federation, a port where people could do business and the owners would take a cut. The Trade Federation was struggling even before the Naboo scandal, and Commerce-1 was bought by a Hutt who’d made too many enemies on Tatooine. Now, Commerce-1 is a hideout for people who don’t want to be found, and a busy marketplace for everything illegal.

If the Jedi chase her this far, she’ll have plenty of warning that they’re coming because half the people on this station are wanted by someone.

The docking fees are high, but it’s worth it. News of her problems won’t have made it this far out yet. Nobody here is looking for her, but she still shouldn’t stay more than a few days.

She showers and puts on a fresh, gray jumpsuit and her black, spare boots. She has no holster, so she has to tuck her blaster into her belt.

The station is dirty and crowded. The Trade Federation took good care of it back in the day, but the new owners don’t bother. It’s not the safest place to be. Blu gets out of the way of a group of armed Bith in a tight corridor. She uses a pocket to hide the stump of her hand. Showing weakness here is a good way to get mugged.

She finds a robotics den that will do work for humans. The shop is the size of a large closet and run by a droid who is nothing more than an eye on an extendable arm stuck to the wall.

“A right hand,” Blu repeats, waving her stump at it. “The right one. Not the correct one. The right one. The one that’s not the left one.”

The droid beeps at her.

“No, you idiot. I need the whole assembly. Do you see this?” She thrusts her stump at it. “It’s cut through, not disassembled. The whole thing.” She groans as it beeps insistently. “I know it’ll cost extra. Would you shut the door?” The door is open, and the busy corridor outside is distracting her. “Yes! I want a good one. Yes, a civilian one. I don’t want to look like a droid. Look at my skin tone! How hard can it be?”

Eventually, she’s in the chair, and the robot is working on her hand. As she sits, she can’t help but think about what happened. How she felt when that horrible Togruta was menacing her, and how she felt when that other one came into the room.

She felt something, and she didn’t like it. It reminds her of the dreams she used to have before she started drinking so much. Speaking of which, that experience was very sobering. She needs a drink right now, but she has to wait for this to be finished. She doesn’t like those weird, unidentifiable feelings. And she always hated those dreams. **** is the solution. And she’s earned a drink because she must’ve run ten kilometers on Coruscant.

Everyone overcharges on Commerce-1, so Blu doesn’t hold that against the droid, who seems to do a good job with her new hand.

She heads out to replace some of the things she lost, and the shopping leaves her almost as broke as she’d been before. She’ll have to work soon, but not just yet. She goes into the first bar she finds, a narrow, pink-lit joint full of Chagrians and Arcona. The bartender is a Kubaz that Blu has to shout at just to get a drink. While she waits, the memories intensify. A strange, light, hazy feeling comes over her. It’s peaceful and familiar, but it reminds her of her dreams, so she hates it.

She snatches the glass out of the bartender’s hand and drains it, then tells him to get her another. Seven or eight of those later, she’s not thinking about those two Jedi or any memories. Blu drunkenly looks at her new hand, which is indistinguishable from the old one. In fact, this one has some upgrades. There’s a fine line where her real flesh meets the artificial machinery, but that should fade.

“Hey, you. That’s my seat,” a badly-dressed Neimoidian says, dropping a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Blu shakes her head, pushes her glass away, and stands up. She knocks him down a single punch to the gut, then steps over him and staggers out of the bar. Even drunk, she’s still thinking about her future. Everything has been turned upside down. There’s plenty of work to be found here, but none of it is legitimate bounties. If she takes jobs on Commerce-1, she’ll be nothing more than a hitwoman. It’s not as though she’s never killed anybody, but she’s never done it like that.

On her way back to the ship, she stops at a corridor full of the old hospitality rentals. These are cheap little comfort services for travelers that aren’t planning to stay long, just a way to get a shower or a place to sleep. In a place like Commerce-1, that’s not what they’re used for. They’re more for quick, anonymous hookups and shady transactions and things like that.

Blu hesitates, then drunkenly stumbles down the corridor until she hears a shower running. She pays the measly fee and opens the access door to a shared shower. The door slides aside, revealing two male Duros who are very busy together.

“Sorry,” Blu mumbles, shutting the door and laughing as she moves on down the corridor.

The next one she opens is occupied by a single human female, a tall, strong woman who looks older than Blu. The folded clothes nearby identify her as some kind of repair engineer. She probably works aboard one of the bigger pirate vessels that dock here, keeping the engines running. Even with the air full of steam, she smells like sweat and oil. She has short hair and a long cock.

“Hi,” she says, looking pleased to have company as she washes with a detachable showerhead. Leaving the door unlocked is the universal sign that someone wants to have some fun.

“Shut up,” Blu says drunkenly, stepping into the room and shutting the door. She sheds her jumpsuit and walks straight under the water.

Looking amused, but game, the woman bites her lip and raises her hands, as though to show that she’s keeping them to herself.

Blu doesn’t care. She drops to her knees in front of the woman and grabs her cock with both hands. This woman was already getting hard as soon as Blu was naked, so she’s at full strength right away. The hands come down and rest on Blu’s head as she gets to work. It’s time to test this new hand out. The strong fingers function? The vibrating fingertip function? All of it. She strokes the shaft, sucks the head, and uses her new hand on the woman’s pussy.

The engineer cries out and bends over, grabbing the towel bar as her legs shake. This lady looks tough, but she’s not. Even without the hand helping, it wouldn’t have taken long.

Blu takes her mouth off and leans back, stroking vigorously.

The mechanic groans and covers Blu’s neck and chest in her cum. Blu keeps squeezing and pulling until the woman’s wobbly legs give out. She sinks to her knees, laughing breathlessly.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” she asks. “Let me help.” She picks up her sponge to wash the cum off Blu’s boobs.

“OK,” Blu says with a drunken smile.