Wyonne paused, crouching behind an old rotten log and attuning herself to her surroundings. Eyes and ears straining, she reached out with her extra senses, those granted to her by her growing mastery of the force. She could sense a vague presence near-by but her Sith quarry was skilled and remained elusive.
Suddenly, Wyonne gasped and looked around startled. An insistent rubbing had begun between her legs and a growing warmth spread from her pussy up through her abdomen. Looking down, no hand was to be seen. Her quarry was using a subtle variation of telekinesis that she thought only she and her lover Morgana had mastered. As tempted as she was to enjoy the sensations coursing through her lower body, she shook her head to clear it and called out to the jungle.
“Nice… nice try my friend but you’ll have to come up with something I didn’t invent if you want to distract me.”
Her words seemed to hit home because to her left there was a flurry of motion and the sound of branches breaking as her opponent broke cover, trading subtly for speed. Wyonne leapt from her hiding place and took off in pursuit. As a more technically minded jedi, Wyonne had of late been letting her conditioning slip and was hard pressed to keep up with the fleeing form ahead of her. The lack of exercise made it harder to keep pace but it did lend her a voluptuousness that was seen in few Jedi. The force knew Morgana had expressed an appreciation for it.
Aside from the occasional flash of black or green, Wyonne couldn’t get a good look at the fleeing Sith. Instead, she followed the disturbances in the brush left by the figure just ahead of her. Seemingly so close, Wyonne was startled when she burst into a clearing to see… nothing.
The jungle had yielded to a clearing, surrounding one of the still, green pools formed by the myriad streams flowing down from the highlands. To her right, a small series of waterfalls descended a minor ridge in the forest floor, and a medium sized pool had formed at their base. Aside from a ring of ripples expanding across the emerald green water, the clearing was silent.
Perhaps the Sith had made a force assisted leap to the opposite bank. Stretching out with force enhanced senses yielded nothing but phantoms. First no presence, then one, then two, then none again. With her abilities so obviously being tampered with, Wyonne decided to cross the pool in the old fashion manner. Hand on the hilt of her considerable modified light saber she step cautiously into the water.
As she waded out she was surprised at how cold the water was in comparison to the humid jungle air. Toward the middle of the pool the water rose up between her blast vest and body, the cold making her nipples harden and rub pleasurably against her armour. Resisting the temptation to lie back in the cool water and enjoy a few pleasant hours floating beneath the canopy she continued into the shallower water toward the opposite bank. As the water receded to waist depth, a figure stepped out of the deep shadows on the opposite bank.
Most sentient beings would think they were gazing on the deranged offspring of a storm trooper and a swoop-race cheerleader. Bright pink hair in a shoulder length bob framed a face as innocent as angel. Innocent that is, until one looked into her eyes. While outwardly a girl, the figure on the opposite bank had the eyes of a warrior who seen much, too much, enough to have been driven over the edge of sanity.
A diamond tattoo in the same garish pink covered on eye from brow to cheek. Her lithe, athletic curves were made even more so by form fitting white body armour, much like a storm trooper and set off at the joints with highlights in the thematic pink. A black swirling cape and thigh-high black boots added a striking contrast to the armour.
“Clarice.” Hissed Wyonne, half Epithet, half moan. Clarice, the last of the Sith trained by Vader. Clarice, who mocked everything innocent in her every mannerism and every action. Clarice, who should have been lying buried beneath the rubble of a remote research installation on an unknown galactic backwater.
“Ah Wyonne, a pleasure to see you again. I’m glad we can meet face to face this time. Instead of face to orbital bombardment. As you can see, despite you and your companion’s best efforts I stand before you hale and hearty.” Wyonne’s hand tightened around the light saber at the lilting, nails on chalkboard quality of the Sith master’s voice.
“Well, as I recall, that was in large part because you’d just tried to turn an entire race to the dark side.” Wyonne took a few steps forward. “Personally I prefer things this way. After I defeat you, you can tell me why you darken the Republic’s door once more.”
Clarice Laughed, a clear bell-like sound much like any teenaged girl’s. Except this girl’s laugh made birds take light and small children cry.
“Wyonne, Wyonne, Wyonne. I’ve no problem explaining myself, in fact, that’s why I lured you here. But defeat me? I think not.”
Wyonne, anticipating an attack began to lunge forward, all her senses focused on her opponent. Clarice simply stood and laughed in amusement and as that fact registered with Wyonne she was attacked from behind. A powerful blow to the hand caused her light saber to plunge into the murky green water. As she began a defensive spin, she was brought up short by a thin, sinewy arm wrapping about her waist and another across her chest, the hand cupping her breast. As shocking as the attack was, Wyonne was either more distracted when the hand across her chest began kneading her full, ample breast through the armour.
Wyonne’s outrage began to build but as she gathered her powers to make good her escape, she was suddenly assailed by a hundred unseen hands. Invisible hands seized both breasts, squeezing painfully. Another plunged down the front of her pants, spreading her and forcing two phantom fingers into her pussy where they began a rhythmic assault. Yet another crept down the back of her pants and forced a probing digit into her vice tight ass. The assault even included an insubstantial tongue, which began a disembodied lapping at her sensitive clitoris.
The unwanted assault made her skin crawl but her body’s involuntary arousal in response was sufficient to destroy her focus making it all but impossible to wield the force in a meaningful fashion. Icy laughter echoed through the jungle joined by a more earthy, fulsome laugh in Wyonne’s ear.
“What I’m up to, dear Wyonne is rebuilding. After the Jedi slew all my apprentice’s and buried me beneath the ruins on Kozai, it was necessary to recruit prior to my comeback. I believe you are getting acquainted with the first of my new followers, Tantazia?” Wyonne struggled to keep a growing orgasm and the humiliation that would involve at bay while still focusing on Clarice’s monologue. As a result, she failed to notice as the slim green fingers of the figure behind her began playing over her buckles and buttons, zippers and fasteners, slowly stripping her and pushing her clothing askew.
“Why…. Why lure me here?” Wyonne managed to force out. “To kill…. Ooooh….. to kill me?” Clarice laughed a third time.