Dark Matter: Episode 3

//Author's Note: This story takes place, canonically, within Bioware's Old Republic setting rather than the Empire/post-Empire setting of the films. Star Wars is a setting, a fictional universe, that often serves as a vehicle for big stories; enslavement of the galaxy-type stuff. I've always thought it could do smaller stories too, and what follows is my attempt. This is my first experiment with images like this.

All art done by SkullTitti, and owned by me.//

***

Vaux'avh stared distrustingly at the stonework sarcophagus, lip twisted in disgust, while workers hoisted it onto the repulsorlift sled. Irritation rolled off of her in waves. Sheefa hadn't been able to sort out why her sister held such contempt for the object, but the cold feeling it gave her was probably at the root of it.

No. Not cold. Harrowing. A chill that passed through her like she wasn't even there every time she was within ten meters of it. It gave her hope that, despite the difference in their nature, both she and Vaux'avh had the same unconscious reactions to a powerful Dark Side relic. Even if she had no idea what it did.

"There we are," croaked a shadow, in a drawling Imperial accent. Sheefa jumped, having forgotten he was there at all, though Vaux'avh handled it much more smoothly. The speaker stepped through the doorway, looking very much like a whip with legs, to put his hands on the edges of the sarcophagus. His red eyes glowed as he looked down. "You have done a great thing in service of the Empire, Lord Vaux'avh."

Vaux'avh kept a neutral expression as the workers escorted the sled toward the ramp. "I just want it off my ship," she said, cursing under her breath. "Nazaya wasn't wrong to call that thing an abomination."

"Are you trying to hurt my feelings?" The man pressed a hand to his chest, pouting his lip exaggeratedly.

The older Mirialan shook her head, though she eyed the sarcophagus carefully as it moved out of the shadow of her ship and into the docking bay proper. "All that matters to me is that your credits are good."

Sheefa scowled in disgust. It was one thing to disagree with her sister, literally or philosophically, but to be conscripted into smuggling and common graverobbing was a deplorable new low.

"Those zeroes in your accounts should help you sleep a little better." He gave each of the sisters another smile and turned.

"Lord Kaine," Vaux'avh said, stopping him just before he set foot on the ramp. His head turned microscopically to the side. "Should Nazaya find out that... thing... is still in one piece—"

"She won't."

"—but if she does, I will be in dire need of an ally."

Kaine turned slowly, his smile spreading wider and wider. "What a curious thing to say," he said, eyes dancing with mad delight. "I must admit, I've not met the woman myself."

"She is a maelstrom." Vaux'avh shivered, and Sheefa quietly nodded her head in agreement.

"My Master has said as much," he mused, "and much, much worse."

Vaux'avh swayed, her eyes unfocused and distracted by deep thoughts while she moved closer to him. Kaine watched eagerly, appraising as much as enjoying the view.

"Why don't you accompany me while I deliver the sarcophagus. My Master would love to compare notes, and perhaps we may be able to offer you something a bit more rewarding than your current station."

Vaux'avh followed, her brow knitted, and stopped only when Sheefa moved to follow her. "Stay with the ship," she said coldly. "Have 2E take you back up into high orbit before returning to Kaas City. I'll meet you back at the apartment."

Even though Sheefa had felt nearly as sickened by Kaine's presence as the sarcophagus, she still felt like being dismissed so summarily was the worst outcome of a lose-lose situation.

***

Vaux'avh meandered while Kaine busied himself with the sarcophagus, and the partially-converted hangar buzzed with activity around them. "This facility is quite a bit larger than I'm used to," she said.

Kaine smiled. "I would have thought that Nazaya curated dozens of warehouses and storehouses ten times this size, each full of objects as rare and storied as this."

"She does," Vaux'avh waxed, "but the work she gives me tends to end at delivery of the object."

"Or its destruction."

The Mirialan smiled and nodded, watching the crew of a transport ship disembark. "She's quite comfortable dooming the life's work of a Sith Lord to oblivion if she disagrees with their philosophy. Or their methods." She turned back to Kaine and shook her head. "Or their children. Or their Apprentices. Or their style of dress." Her voice took on a bit of a musical tone. "Or their choice in holocron design. Or for associations with those she deems undesirable. Or for any number of completely unrelated reasons."

Kaine hummed under his breath, half-listening while he disarmed layers of defense mechanisms and booby traps. The sarcophagus hummed to life, emanating a pale yellow light through cracks and along fitted lines. "Incredible," he murmured.

Vaux'avh looked back at the object briefly, giving it just the barest of glances, and then resumed her meandering. The crew of the transport had mostly dispersed into the sprawling complex, though a few had migrated to terminals along the walls.

"The armory of Darth Trellan." Kaine's voice was barely above a whisper, dripping with reverential awe. "Finally."

Vaux'avh smiled to herself as she pressed a button tucked into the fabric on her shoulder, and began a circuitous loop back toward the sarcophagus.

"Can you feel the power, Lord Vaux'avh?"

"I feel it," Vaux'avh said, as she ran her fingers over the tops of a row of chairs set along a bank of sensors.

"Each of these items was infused with the darkest of Sith Magicks," Kaine said, as he held aloft an unassuming black glove. "With these, Trellan was nearly able to bring the Dark Council to their knees."

"And how did that work out for late Darth?" Vaux'avh asked, pausing at one of the computer terminals to lean over the shoulder of a young cadet. The Imperial officer blinked and swallowed hard, struggling as much with the Sith in his presence as the generous cleavage he probably knew he shouldn't be staring at.

"Poisoned by his wife," Kaine said. He laughed heartily as he slipped his hand into the glove and experimentally formed a fist. "He was blind."

"Men often are," she purred. Then she leaned her head to the side and continued in a lower tone. "Name and rank."

"P-private Thurlish," the young cadet replied. His brow was heavily populated with sweat. "Comms. 3rd grade."

"Private Thurlish," she crooned, turning toward him more fully. "We meet at last."

Private Thurlish stared at her for a moment longer before his eyes widened dramatically. Vaux'avh grinned as she ignited her lightsaber through the back of his chair, taking him cleanly through the chest. The light was already dimming in his eyes by the time Kaine, and a great many others in the hangar, turned toward her in alarm.

***

Sheefa sat huddled, her arms across her chest and her knees tightly together, as the shuttle rocketed just above the dense jungle. She closed her eyes and breathed evenly, but it had little impact on her nerves. It certainly didn't change the fact that when she opened her eyes again, Nazaya was still sitting straight across from her. So close that their knees were nearly touching. Staring back at her with those eyes, and that unhinged disposition. Sheefa reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose, and sighed.

"Do you think she'll be happy to see me?" Nazaya's crooked smile showed too much teeth for her liking. "I hate to leave my charges to their own devices for too long."

"Thrilled," Sheefa blurted.

"Oh dear. I'm making you uncomfortable."

Sheefa jumped as Nazaya put a hand on her knee.

"Am I making you uncomfortable, Apprentice?"

"I'm fine," she snarled.

"Would you be more comfortable with your mother between your thighs?"

Sheefa gasped, nearly choking in surprise.

"Vulva, would you be a dear and help your daughter relax?"

Vulva, her face as blank as usual, slipped down from her chair at the end of the confined cabin and onto her knees. Preparing to crawl across the floor on all fours.

"No!" Sheefa cried, crossing her legs reflexively. "N-no, Mother."

Vulva paused, just out of reach of Sheefa's legs.

"Are you sure?" Nazaya asked, looking almost-innocent. "I certainly don't mind, and I know your sister relishes a good tongue bath before a job."

"I'm sure," she said hurriedly. "I'm sure."

Nazaya smiled, unperturbed, and motioned for Vulva to return to her seat. For her part, Vulva's expression remained neutral the same the entire time. A moment later, Nazaya's holocommunicator beeped.

"That's our signal," Nazaya said. She leaned back and spoke loudly over her shoulder. "Take us in, Captain."

The shuttle banked, accelerating quickly, as did dozens of similar craft. Turbolaser fortifications lit up the stormy skies, but troops marching out of the jungle made short work of those before more than a handful of shuttles were lost. Sheefa kept her eyes squeezed shut tightly. She couldn't stop herself from reaching out, through the Force, in an effort to determine if their shuttle was being targeted or shot at, and it wasn't until that moment that she realized how large the invading force truly was.

Nazaya stood just before the shuttle touched down, and gave Sheefa's thigh a hard slap as she made for the ramp.

Pockets of resistance, if they could even be called that, were already in the process of being mopped up by assaulting ground forces when Sheefa followed Nazaya out of their shuttle. The personal forces of Lord Tarwin, those that hadn't been cut down, were retreating into the various buildings in his complex. Nazaya walked with feverish intent through blaster fire that passed over and around her while Sheefa followed, blade in hand. At a signal from the diminutive woman, two heavy cannons pivoted and fired, blowing a gaping hole in the hangar doors ahead of her. She never once slowed, sped up, or adjusted her direction.

Even after all that, Sheefa was unprepared for the number of bodies strewn about the inside of the hanger. Vaux'avh stood in the center of the mayhem, chest heaving, with the lifeless body of Lord Kaine at her feet.

"You took your time," Nazaya grumbled, as she strode over corpses and dismembered parts.

"I had to wait for him to open it up to be sure," Vaux'avh panted.

The miniscule woman stepped up to the sarcophagus and stared imperiously into its depths. "And it's all there?"

"Everything but the glove."

Nazaya sneered as she turned around, regarding Kaine's gloved hand with open hostility. In an instant, her blade was out and his arm was off at the wrist. She reached out through the Force, grabbing it and lifting it with a contemptuous curl of her lip, and deposited it back into the opened stonework encasement.

"The rest of the artifacts of Darth Trellan are on the premises," Vaux'avh said, finally re-attaching her own lightsaber to her hip. "The ones I smuggled to him, the ones we suspected, and a few others as well."

"My my." Nazaya leaned to the side to stare into Kaine's lifeless eyes. "They certainly kept themselves busy. Lieutenant!" An Imperial trooper stepped forward and saluted smartly. "When the complex has been secured, I will personally oversee the assessment of any artifacts. I want a team of your best, and I want a plan to systematically pore over every square meter of this forsaken place."

"Sir," the Lieutenant replied, with a nod.

Nazaya's eyes lit up. "And then I want to turn this into a smoking hole in the ground."

"Sir," the Lieutenant replied, with a bit more enthusiasm.

"Your job here is done," she said, turning back to Vaux'avh. "Now you can finally get back to raping your sister." She dragged out the first 's' in sister, ssssssister, with a wicked smile.

Vaux'avh looked around wildly, frantic to see who else was close enough to hear Nazaya's casual tone. Nazaya smiled and leaned forward, daring Vaux'avh to action without saying any such thing. In the end, Vaux'avh merely clenched her jaw tightly and turned to go. Sheefa blushed feverishly as she trailed her sister. It had taken every ounce of her will not to throw up.

The Conquest was just touching down outside, now that the fighting was done, and the ramp lowered just in time for Vaux'avh to storm up. Sheefa scampered up behind her, wanting to hide more than anything else. Vulva followed close behind, only having just emerged from the shuttle a few seconds prior. Vaux'avh waited just inside the airlock to shut them in, and the ship achieved lift-off immediately thereafter.

"I hate dealing with—" Sheefa started, and she cut off with a gasp when Vaux'avh came up behind her and drove a knee into the back of hers. She cried out as she landed hard on the deck, and immediately regretted turning back toward her sister. There Vaux'avh stood, her eyes alive with malice and her dress hiked up in one hand nearly to her waist. Sheefa opened her mouth to voice first her anger, and then her frustration, and cursed herself a fool ten times over when the older Mirialan used the opportunity to drive her pussy forward against her tongue.

"No teeth now," Vaux'avh warned, an eerie red glow emanating from beneath her brow. Sheefa stared back fiercely, even as her sister took firm hold of her hair. Even as her sister's hips rocked up and back. Her tongue quivered as she tried to force it forward to where she knew Vaux'avh wanted it. As she tried to even think about forcing it forward, knowing that it would go worse if she didn't.

"That's better." Vaux'avh bit her lip between her canines, and smiled as the younger Mirialan hesitantly ran her tongue upward between glistening folds. Her shoulders relaxed, settling lower and lower as her smile got wider and wider. "Much better." Lower and wider with every lick. After a long minute, Vaux'avh relaxed the hold she had on her sister's hair, and used both hands to hike her dress up farther, exposing her front and back. Vulva needed little more than a look to be on the move.

"Much better," the Sith sighed happily, as tongues worked her up from both sides; her mother from behind and her little sister from her front. She rolled her head back, staring straight up through closed lids, and exhaled. "That's perfect, soriel. Just perfect. Yes!"

Vaux'avh adjusted her dress so that she held the whole thing up against her right hip with one hand, and grabbed Sheefa's head again. The sudden jolt surprised the youngest of them, and she instinctively reached forward to balance herself. She gasped when her hand brushed against her mother's, and Vaux'avh let out a throaty purr.

"There's the fear," Vaux'avh said, and as she did, Sheefa felt the air hardening in her mouth. Extending out and away from Vaux'avh's groin. The smooth surface pressing down on her tongue, and against the roof of her mouth. Her eyes squeezed shut as it spread toward the back of her mouth. Further. Into her throat.

Sheefa whined between rough, hacking coughs that began the second the obstruction in her airway retracted. No matter how badly she wanted to be staring holes through Vaux'avh, she couldn't manage to keep her eyes open. Her panting cut off sharply, wetly, with a cringing Hrrrk as the red-eyed Sith drove right back into her neck.

Nothing, though, made her spine curl more than the sound of their mother happily purring a hair's breath away.

The movement of the shaft in her mouth was all done with the Force. Extending and retracting. Vaux'avh's hips remained still and even, where their mother could continue her tender ministrations, while the intrusion moved in and out of Sheefa. Her lips came away from her sister's folds as she was driven back, the shaft reaching deeper and deeper into her throat. She could breathe, but the sensation triggered complex reactions in her lungs.

"I will never tire of that," Vaux'avh said with a grin, as Sheefa doubled in on herself. Gagging and heaving. Panting and gasping. "Come around."

Sheefa could not spare the attention to follow who was being ordered to do what, and it wasn't until her mother started moaning louder, over a rhythmic slapping of thighs, that she caught on. She glared sideways, not daring to look much higher than their ankles while she desperately sought a way to avoid or delay her participation in the family practice.

Her efforts were for naught. She looked over again, chancing a glance at her mother's knee while she continued to fake her cough as well as possible, and gasped when Vaux'avh grabbed her by the throat. Her hand was nowhere near, but the pressure was real and powerful. Restrictive. Sheefa scrambled up and up, first to her knees and then awkwardly to her feet, as the Force pulled at her neck. Lifting. She danced on the tips of her toes across the room before falling on her back on the conference table. She thought about striking back, as she clawed uselessly at her throat, just for the peace of mind for having tried, and knew the futility of it was beyond question.

Vaux'avh was too powerful.

All she could do was pant with relief when the pressure subsided. She couldn't bring herself to stop Vulva when she removed Sheefa's boots. Or her leggings. Or when Vulva parted her legs, spreading her wide. She couldn't bring herself to stop Vulva when her mother ran her tongue through the slick channel. When every grunt from Vaux'avh pushed that tongue just a little further. When every thrust pushed that tongue just a little deeper.

Sheefa threw her head back and forth, denying the pleasure with every fiber of her will. Denying the way it made her toes curl. Resisting the warmth. The sensation. The attention. The love.

Long, slow swirls sent her clit into a frenzy. Raising the frequency of the humming in her bones by the second. She squirmed, but no matter where she shifted, her mother followed. Her mother's tongue followed. Lips that suckled. Teeth that bit down so gently. Sheefa whined, voice pitched higher and higher as she was drawn inexorably toward the joy she did not want. The joy she needed.

At the last second, she stretched out toward it, embracing the heat as it poured into her. Her legs came up, pressing gently to either side of her mother's head with her ankles crossed well down Vulva's back. Vulva's hands came up to rest on the tops of her thighs. Her tongue worked circularly, feverishly, and continuously, dragging out and prolonging Sheefa's orgasm in ways she had never known.

A powerful contraction drew Sheefa's entire middle together, her shoulders curled up off the table, and she groaned when she opened her eyes. There was her mother, staring up at her from between her legs. Her mother, who never looked so alive as she did when she was pleasing her daughters. Her mother, for whom Sheefa felt unending grief over how little she had thought of during her years of Jedi tutelage. How infrequently she had worried about those left behind, or assumed the best because it suited her inaction.

And there, behind her mother, was Vaux'avh. Hungrily thrusting. Hovering, and casting a long shadow over the two of them. Gleefully twisting their emotions to suit her own perverse desires. Her teeth gleamed behind a wide smile as she pistoned in and out of their mother. Fucking her harder and harder.

Sheefa fell back against the table, surrendering to another eruption from her core. Her eyes rolled, watching an array of vivid lights dance behind pinched lids. Long, low moans seeped out of her as she lay stunned. Overwhelmed. Desperately craving more.