Star Wars Fall Of The Pam Pam Tree

It was dusk on the planet Naboo. The jungle came alive with a thousand insects around the Pampamala grove, sacred to the Gungan race, and the huge resort Senator Jar Jar Binks built glittered in the fading light as the interior illumination grew to compensate. The sacred Pam Pam trees stood over a thousand Gujaks high: their leaves were highly prized by the amphibian race of Naboo for medicinal value, and a milky sheen of resinous sap. This sap trapped many of the insects which nourished the trees, and an unwary animal caught by it would be stuck forever as well, except for a special solvent the Gungans made. Their foundational myths spoke much about the Pam Pam trees, and how the ancient ancestors of these specimens led them out of the water to interact with the land.

It was the off season for Gungans: the heat of this season usually kept them underwater, and the holy days that called their pilgrims forth was over half orbit away. A few travelers from around the Empire were in residence, to bathe in the waters surrounding the trees and sight see a planet which produced so many vital players in the past few years of Galactic History.

The pleasure girl called Lakme made her way down to the subterranean hallways of the resort after her shift was over. She traveled on cat's feet, silent and light, looking back and forth for a person whose presence she had only sensed in the past few days. She was a little shorter than normal, her hair long as the Gungans liked it, her nails painted green indicating her servitude, lithe and nimble, her feet bare and testing the floor as she crept along. Finding a nook in the hallway, she hunkered down in her plain white gown, translucent and diaphanous, settling into the darkness as she awaited her rendezvous.

Tomakin sulked down the hallway in search of an unknown being he known only by vibrations in his soul he didn't understand. He was tall and strong, having recently deserted the Imperial Academy to make his way on his own. His home world was on the other side of the Galaxy, far past Coruscant, and his exile on Naboo meant he had to try to earn a small fortune to return to his home. He was skinny and almost emaciated, and his hair was as short as possible without being completely absent from his head. His eyes were brown, and his eyebrows furrowed as he followed his instinct.

Rounding a corner, he saw her. Their eyes met, she beckoned, and he went over to sit beside her. "Welcome, Tomakin," came the words in his mind.

"What?" he said out loud.

"Silence," came her voice in his head. "The sensors can pick up everything we say, even here. We'll have to communicate this way."

"What way?" he thought.

"Through the Force"

"The what?"

"The Force is strong with you. I can tell, for we are alike. Like the old Jedi."

"The Jedi? They're dead. The Emperor killed them all for treason."

"Yes. And if representatives of the Jedi had visited our homeworlds, we would have been recruited as infants to be their apprentices. And died when Lord Vader massacred the younglings in the Coruscant Temple."

His eyes raised in surprise. "I always thought my planet Dematria an out of the way place, a real backwater. . ."

"Like Naboo. It wasn't easy, but I was able to hide from the Emperor and Lord Vader here."

"Lord Vader? I knew the Emperor came from here, but Vader?"

"Yes, he was here several times, even before he became a Sith Lord. I was one of Amidala's handmaids, traveled with her to her time in hiding where she and Skywalker became mates."

Tomakin shook his head in negation. "No, no. Can't be. But you're just a pleasure worker, you bend your butt for the Gungans and let them. . ."

"Enough, I know what I do. I didn't go on Amidala's last journey, and when they had her funeral, I laid low instead of taking my rightful place."

"I don't understand."

"The Empire has many Force sensitives, the Jedi weren't the only ones who could use the Force. They've been hunting down people with high Midichlorian counts for years, and those who don't serve them meet the fate of the Jedi."

Tomakin looked deep into Lakme's brown eyes. "There's rumors that some of the Jedi escaped. Yoda's body wasn't seen at any of the ambush sites, and Obi-Wan Kenobi is still hunted by the Imperial Police."

She shook her head dramatically and gestured for him to stop. "May be, but they can't help us now."

There was a long pause as he digested what she said. "Help us? Do what?"

"Avenge the Queen."

Tomakin's blue eyes grew wide. He was only 23 years old in the measurement of his home world, 19 in Galactic standard. "How? She's been dead for five years, died in childbirth, her children missing. The cause of her death was obviously a broken heart at Lord Vader's maiming."

"No, she lost her life defending Naboo," her mental voice shouting in defiance. "And there's only one creature's death that will avenge all the injustice done to her in her lifetime."

"The Emperor? Lord Vader? How can we kill them?"

"Jar Jar Binks."

"Senator Binks?" He started to get up, but she pushed him back down harder than her slender strength promised. "But he only did what she wanted him to do. He was by her side in all her trials, her loyal friend."

"No, no. Binks betrayed her to the Emperor. He proposed Palpatine be awarded emergency powers to the Senate of the Republic, the royal idiot, and has badly represented our planet since, agreeing to every expenditure and narrowing of our liberty since then. He's a shallow fool who was lucky to be in the right place in the right time."

"All right, this is the first I've ever heard of it. I still don't understand why you hate him. He's part of the Delegation of 2000, one of the ones working for us in the Senate." Lakme shook her head sadly, and Tomakin sensed she was likely telling the truth. He held out his hand, pleading silently. "But why me, how did I get here, why do I have to help you do this?"

She looked him deep into his dark eyes and sighed aloud. "The Force is strong in you. Your desertion of the Imperial Academy was just in time: they were about to enslave or destroy you. I bet you left on a hunch."

He looked away from her for a moment and paused before answering her. "Yes, I did have this feeling I ought to go, even though my grades were pretty good. I didn't think I could talk my way past the monitors. . ."

"It was the Force, Tomakin, the Force. You knew you had to come here to find me. We are destined for this task."

"Destined? And I bet a voice from the grave brought you here."

Lakme's eyebrows arched in surprise. "You too?"

Tomakin shuddered and looked around. "There was this old guy, not too old, in a thin beard and a long staff, there was a glow around his entire body. He appeared one night, right after I got up to take a dump, standing in front of me with bright eyes. 'Tomakin' he said, 'flee while you can. Go to Naboo, meet a young woman named Lakme. Do whatever she tells you. The fate of the Galaxy is in your hands.' Well, I freaked out, and didn't pay any attention to it. The next night, he came back, standing on my urinal: 'Tomakin, flee. In two days they will capture you.' Who, I said out loud. 'Servants of Vader. Beware the Sith Lord. He is on his way here.' I didn't pay any mind to it, until assembly the next morning, when the announced Lord Vader was coming for an inspection. Well, I can be stupid twice, but this woke my ass up, and I left on the next cargo ship. Gave them every credit I had and ended up here."

"We have much in common, Tomakin. You can help me. He is coming soon."

"Who? Vader?"

"No. Senator Jar Jar Binks, the great Traitor. Coming back for a Naboo woman during the adjournment of the Galactic Senate. I await his coming."

"And what am I supposed to do?"

She took him by his shoulders and shook him. "You have a buddy in the spaceport, don't you?"

"Yeah, Grimsley. Night watchman, likes his Derega juice and can't get it here."

"And you've got some."

Tomakin smiled broadly. "I've got a lot. He'll set me up with anything he can get away with for a 6 month supply."

"Including a spaceship capable of LightSpeed?"

"Damn, I don't know. May have to come up with more than Derega juice."

"How about some royal lips on his plinka?"

"What?" he thought, shaking his head. "A blow job from a princess?"

"Yes. Remember Sabe?"

"Yeah, she works the day shift, servicing Gungans. Only first class customers, like Boss Nass."

Lakme spat at the thought of his name. "When Amidala was alive, Sabe impersonated the Queen so Qui-Gon Jinn could save our world from the armies of the Trade Federation."

"Damn," he said, whistling out loud. "She's fallen on hard times."

"She could never take the oath of allegiance to the Emperor. She knew Palpatine too long to pledge her loyalty to him." She grabbed his ear and held it, making him wince. "She will do anything your friend Grimsley wants, as long as he wants, as long as we can steal a spaceship."

"Why? Why?"

"That's all you need to know for now. You don't have my ability to screen your thoughts from an adept of the Force. Just come back here tomorrow night, same time, and I'll tell you what the next step is."

"And my motivation to go along with you is?"

She paused and sighed again, looking deeply into his eyes. "Your life. Your future. Perhaps my body. When Vader comes, wherever he catches up with you, he will find you, he will break you, and your life will be over. " She then smiled cheekily at him. "And if you're lucky, me to keep you cold on those long nights in space. We will have another mission if we pull this on off." A tender kiss on the lips, and she darted away down the hallway.

He nodded and left.

***

Tomakin went to his nightly poker game in the spaceship garage. His 4 buddies were already there: all human natives of Naboo and all slightly less than average intelligence. They greeted him and poured the BisBis warming liqueur before dealing the first hand of the evening. As poker players, they were fairly proficient, but they didn't know Tomakin could read every hand dealt in their minds. Tomakin called it his edge, but over the years he'd learned to be crafty using it: he made sure that his winnings were within credibility, and he deliberately lost enough hands to make it seem he was a player of superior ability rather than dishonest. It made up a fair amount of his "Escape from Naboo" plan, but it was taking forever to milk them of enough credits to pay for a trip home.

Cordis Branag, a large, heavyset man with greying hair, looked at him quizzically: "You all right, Tommy lad? Looks like you've been screwed by a Gungan."

"No, just a little off my feed today. I think I ate something that disagreed with me."

"Maybe that means we'll slice into that little cache you've been piling up from our paychecks. Need some more BisBis juice?"

"I'm fine. Hey, what do you mean by 'screwed by a Gungan?'"

Cordis shook his massive head. "No son, you don't want to know. Tis only something we say here on Naboo."

"But the Gungans are from here as well, aren't they?"

"Well, I think so, but I don't know for sure." The natives laughed corsely, nervously, and Cordis shuffled the cards, trying to stack them without being caught.

Tomakin continued his inquiry and looked around. The others looked away, so he asked again: "So what do you mean 'screwed by a Gungan'?"

Cordis shook his head and made a lip fart. "It's too gross, son. You can't take it."

"Try me?"

Cordis looked him up and down and sighed. "Are you sure you want to know, Tomakin Deflease?"

Tomakin knew Cordis was serious and signaling trouble by using his full name. He reached out with his Edge and stroked the Naboo man's brain, finding it slightly grossed out by the concept on the surface. "It will be all right to tell me what you mean by that. I can take it."

"It will be all right to tell you what I mean by that. You can take it," Cordis repeated dully with a sigh. "Gungan males have plinkas are twice as large as humans, with little tendrils all over. They usually mate under water, there's something in the chemistry that helps the sperm meet the eggs and spawn. But prominent Gungans get off on, on, on mating Naboo women on land. Their people think them unusually studly if they do this."

"So, like Boss Nass and his circle?"

"Screw Naboo women every chance they can, the bastards. It's said even Queen Amidala put out for Boss Nass during the Trade Federation War, just to get him to agree to an alliance."

Tomankin's senses told him this was likely untrue, but he pushed on. "So what about the Senator?"

"Oh, no, don't talk about that one, it's not safe. There's ears everywhere, even your mother would turn you in. No, nothing can make me tell you about him."

Reading the man's panic, Tomankin refocused his inquiry. "All right, what about the pleasure girls?"

"They're desperate lad," his face taking on a look of deep sadness. "Stuck in awful lives. Once they get screwed by a Gungan, they can't go home, an' ordinary man's no good for them anymore. You're not thinking of dating one, are ye?"

"No, no, of course not."

He wiped his sweaty brow. "Only heartbreak there, lad. That enough for your questions? We'd like to play a little cards after class here, whenever you're ready."

"Sure. Deal."

Tomakin kept his winnings minimal that evening, sensing the nervousness of the Naboo men. Cordis was convivial as he came a close second, and the rest grumbled as their meager earnings were diminished slightly.

***

The Senator swaggered off his spaceship and waved to the crowds below. Jar Jar Binks took to life as a prominent public official eagerly and enjoyed the accolades even though a small part of his psyche knew it was unearned. A speeder waited to take him to his favorite resort, commissioned by his new found wealth, and his bulbous eyes shone as he noticed Lakme sitting in the back of the vehicle.

He waved his hands. "No speeching today, no speeching. No, my here to havea fun, meesa needs a break from Coruscant."

A local vidjounalist sidled up. "Welcome home, Senator Binks. Is there any truth to the rumor that you will accept a commission in the Imperial Fleet as Grand Moff to deal with the revolt in the Pharissol system?"

"No, no, no comment. Yousa knows my no can say."

"Can't blame a guy for trying. How long are you here, Senator?"

"Oh, a while, a while. Canna say. Not long enough." His eyes shown brightly indicating sexual stimulation, and they flickered over to his speeder and back as he talked with the man. "Dassa all now." With another wave, he left the ramp and entered the back seat of his transport.

Lakme was smiling as he entered the vehicle. "It's about time you came back and saw me, Jubblies."

"Nosa, nosa, donna call my dat here," he said, leaning over to murmur in her ear.. "Waits till we doin da plinka dance by de Pam Pam tree."

Winking, she smiled and he relaxed. "Maybe you'd like a little plinka dance right here and now."

"Now? Yousa do de tongue ding?"

His plinka sprung from his trousers and she reached down to stroke it. The tendrils around the head and down the shaft were quivering with expectation. Lakme forced her emotions of revulsion down and leaned over to circle the ridge three inches from the tip with her tongue, making a long, sloppy line of saliva. Her mental discipline, aided by the Force, amplified her intention and kept him from sensing her true feelings about him and what she was doing.

She took nine inches of his shaft into her mouth, sucking and tracing his sensitive ridges with her tongue. The tendrils got in the way of her effort as they tried to encircle her tonsils and squeeze them dry, but her Force commands directly to his cortical stem pushed his libido over the edge within a minute, and he released a huge amount of seminal fluid down her throat. Relaxing her throat, most of it slid directly into her stomach, burning the whole way down; the little that ended up on her tongue tasted like slightly sour algae, but her eyebrows puckered as she swallowed it all. Only then did the tendrils of his plinka let go of her teeth and she was free again.

Jar Jar ululated for several minutes with his eyes shut while his plinka stayed stiff. Gungan males were capable of multiple orgasms without losing their erections, to satisfy the needs of the females during the mating season. Then he went completely rigid, his eyes moving back and forth rapidly as post orgasmic paralysis hit him: a rare but mostly harmless disorder affecting one in ten Gungans. He was only able to recover himself and be presentable when they pulled up to the front door of the resort.

***

Grimsley was smoking a slightly narcotic dilloweed cigarette when Tomakin found him in the machine shop. "Hey, Tommy. Want a puff?"

"No, thanks, Grim," Tomakin said waving his hand in dismissal. "Need a favor from you."

"I'm not playing poker with you no matter what you say."

"No, something a bit more stimulating."

He smiled. "Say on."

"How would you like a date with a special girl?"

"Sure, wouldn't anybody?" He shrugged his shoulders and stared at him, trying to read his thoughts.

"I can fix you up with one of the pleasure girls."

Grimsley snorted and turned away, giving out a series of hollow laughs. "And you've got some prime Gungan development land down by the Glimmering Sea as well. Nice try, Tommy."

"Huh?"

"Are you that stupid?"

"What?"

"Don't you know the pleasure girls are ruined for any normal man after they've fucked a Gungan? They get so stretched out it's like putting your plinka out the window and making love to all Naboo. And I can't tell you how many fucking different kinds of crotch rot Gungan sperm cause."

Tomakin paused and shrugged his shoulders. "What if one were willing to suck your plinka?"

The mechanic scratched his head. "How many times?"

"As many times you want."

Grimsley stopped cold and looked at his friend seriously. "Like you can set that up. What's in it for you?"

The silence was profound for several moments. "A Space Runner."

Ripples of laughter echoed through the hard surfaces of the workshop and bounced into the distance. "You're crazy, Tommy. How're you getting away with that?"

"What, you can't give me one?"

"Oh, that's the easy part, we lose bigger poodoo than that all the time here, but as soon as you hit space, Orbital Patrol will be up your ass quicker than you can say 'Jedis are plinka lovers'."

Tomakin looked around and made contact with Lakme. "Don't worry about Orbital Patrol," her thoughts said in his mind. "I've got something up my sleeve. Hurry up and fix this, we have to move sooner than expected."

Grimsley looked at him in continuing disbelief as a shadowy figure appeared at the lift to the upper levels. A thin figure in white robes glided over to them as the men looked on, pulling her hood back when she came close. "Is this the man who will help us?" the husky voice said.

"Princess Sabe," Grimsley stuttered, before lurching to one knee and bowing to the floor.

"Get up, I'm not a Princess any more. I'm here to see if you will be my friend."

"I'm not worthy."

"Of course you aren't, but I need you help quickly. Are you going to give this man a Space Runner or not?"

"Oh yes, Princess," his head lifted, and he smiled ferociously. "By your command. But I believe there was a matter of price."

She looked down on him and flared her nostrils. "Yes, some care for your plinka. I will take care of your plinka as long as you wish in exchange for the Runner."

Grimsley shook his head. "But. . .but. . .but why?"

"Because I hate the Gungans," she said icily.

"But you're a pleasure girl."

"No longer. You are my ticket out. I know a place we can hide for a while, and soon we will be gone from this planet, off this broken world. You can work anywhere."