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KYBER-PUNK 22BBY Ch.6
🕑 Added 2024-12-04 02:44:18 +0000 UTC— Atom —
Kyber-crystal meth. Kyber-fucking-crystal meth… The galaxy was fucked. That much was clear to me. And I seemed destined to get caught up right in the middle of it all. Why else would it be brought to my attention? Why else would it be shoved in my face out of all Force sensitives? Fucking Force fucking drugs…
Was I the only one able to immediately see how absolutely fucked that idea was? It certainly seemed that way. My night had been ruined in a single instant, and I spent the rest of it grilling hostage Force addicts for every bit of information I could gather. Then, I went back home with Sasha and slept on it. Fitfully, that is. Only Sasha holding me to her breast and cooing that everything would be alright ensured that I got any rest at all.
She didn’t seem to grasp the significance. But — as always — she was supportive in the extreme. Anywhere I went, anything I did, she’d be right there by my side. The universe could die a cold, quiet death, and I wouldn’t doubt Sasha’s commitment once. Not anymore. Not after feeling it ring like steel as I came inside her.
The Force was… Well, I still had mixed feelings. I likely always would. It could be such a fucking headache. But the advantages were undeniably immense. And having touched it, I didn’t think I could ever go back. It’d instantly become too essential to give up. That didn’t mean I had to enjoy it throwing me galaxy-shaking problems like something that had the potential to be a Force drug epidemic.
The only consolation was that I was getting in on the proverbial ground floor. I’d stumbled upon Kyber-spice before it could truly spread. Once it did, the Jedi would flip their shit. The Sith would backflip their shit. And only God knew what the hundreds of Force Orders between the two would do.
It was in my best interest to cut this shit off at the source. Preferably, while it was still a small curiosity on only a portion of Nar Shaddaa and before it could truly spread off-world. The clock was officially ticking, it seemed.
I didn’t doubt Kyber-spice’s ability to spread once it was given the chance. Force drugs — a high of the Force — had that sort of potential and appeal. I had no idea if it’d been done before. But it’d certainly never been done in this way.
Thankfully, the effects of Kyber-spice weren’t what I initially worried they would be. At first glance, I assumed they would forge the user a connection to the Force. A twisted, artificial way of making wholly new Force-sensitives. It wasn’t that. Close, but not nearly so galaxy-upheaving.
From the information I gathered last night, Kyber-spice’s high was much more passive than active. It allowed users to temporarily tune into the Force. But just tune in. The high was just riding the harmony of the Force in all things. It wasn’t an actual connection and the drug wasn’t a conduit. Users couldn’t consciously twist the Force to their will. ‘Consciously’ was the keyword there, because Kyber-spice still cast the user as a shadow — ‘heavier’ than usual — in the Force.
Kyber-spice, thank everything holy, didn’t create Force users. Not immediately, at least. The long-term effects of continuous use remained to be seen. For some reason, I didn’t expect the Hutts to have done that much research before releasing the drug onto the market.
In all? Still worrying. Very, very worrying. The Force (ironically) didn’t like to be forced into anything. It didn’t like the temporary, hollow imitation of a connection that Kyber-spice cast either. Optimistically speaking, giving normal people a taste of the Force might be considered a good thing. Not like this, though. Not through drugs and false positive connections and Force knows what else. The consequences Kyber-spice might have were way above my pay grade, but I knew I’d be feeling them all the same.
A small sliver of those consequences was already becoming apparent. Rumors. Whispers. Fucking terrifying if they were to be believed. According to the idiot I questioned, some Kyber-spice users were having ‘wickedly bad trips’. And when they did, they ‘like, totally flipped out, du~uuu~de’.
Something akin to mushroom berserker rage, I think. Only with Kyber-spice, it was almost certainly them temporarily tapping into the Dark Side for whatever reason that sent them spiraling into the bad trip. When that happened, the high became much more… active. To the point that the bad trips might’ve been what I initially assumed and feared. Fucking tweaker rage, fueled by the literal Dark Side. Joy.
As if this shit couldn’t get worse… No matter what the effects of Kyber-spice might’ve been, the Jedi were always going to come sniffing around, talking about their ‘solemn right’ or sole reservation to the Force or some other such bullshit. If the bad trip rumors were true, they’d come raining down on Nar Shaddaa in the hundreds. And since I (unfortunately) lived here, it was — again — in my best interest to cut this shit off at the source.
Not to mention that whatever the Jedi did, the Sith would be magnitudes worse in their efforts. Plans within plans, with Kyber-spice to incorporate into them. Force drug-induced falls from the Light and Dark Side tweakers as disposable assets were right up Palpatine and Dooku’s ladder. And they weren’t nearly as limited as the Jedi. If — when — they took interest, Nar Shaddaa would undoubtedly become even more hellish than it already was.
It seemed that the wider galaxy was coming calling whether I liked it or not (I didn’t). Someone had to answer (it fucking had to be me…). And as I was, I wasn’t ready (I would need to be, though).
I growled as I opened my eyes. A sound that rumbled in my chest and steeled my will. Below the waist, I became aware of sensations I’d been ignoring. It seemed my monologue had put me in a sort of meditative trance. It also seemed that Sasha had decided to wake me up with style. Because, of course, she had.
The covers on the bed — our bed, now that I’d finally caved and joined her in it last night — had been thrown back. Sasha was lying on the bottom half of it. Between my legs. Doing what women usually did between a man’s legs. Giving glorious, glorious fucking wake-up head.
Her head bobbed up and down. Reverent hands cradled my cock and balls. Soft lips slid along my length. Gripping. Sucking. Lavishing me with gentle, loving pleasure. Her tongue tried its best to wrap all the way around me. Sasha failed in that impossible task. But not for lack of trying.
“Morning,” I grunted.
Down below, Sasha’s eyes fluttered open. I found hearts staring back up at me. Literal hearts. They’d overtaken Sasha’s pupils and pulsed with pink light. I shouldn’t be surprised. Programming hearts into her cyber eyes had Sasha written all over it, especially as a way to show how much she loved me. And I’ll freely admit I throbbed at the sight.
Those heart eyes lidded at the pulse of my cock against her tongue. She let me pop out of her mouth and rest my shaft against her cheek. It extended all the way up her face — hanging heavy, throbbing, and coated with the proof of her wake-up call. Sasha twisted her head slightly to lay a grinning, worshipful kiss on one of my cock veins.
“Morning, Daddy~…” She purred a throaty purr of greeting. “Sleep well~?”
The usual order of things seemed to be reversed since she was greeting me after sucking my cock for only she knows how long. But who was I to complain? Not that kind of chump, that’s who.
“Not in the slightest,” I replied. “Despite your best efforts. The morning alarm is… nice… though.”
Sasha — having started to pout at the first half of my reply — turned her frown right back ‘round, “Well, that’s good, at least~! Now, what’s wrong, baby~? You talk, I’ll listen.”
“And suck,” I reminded, flexing my cock as I did. It jumped an inch and came smacking back down against her face.
A shudder ran — visibly, viscerally — all the way down Sasha’s spine. Her eyes somehow grew more lidded and her grin, wider, “I thought that much was obvious, Daddy~…”
A little noise — half grunt, half growl — escaped me. I didn’t bother reaching down. The Force answered my unspoken will. It was as if a ghostly hand grabbed her head and pulled it back into its proper position. That is, at the tip of my cock with her lips primed to swallow me whole. And swallow, she did.
For the briefest of moments, I wondered if the Force would bristle at the way I was using it. At what I was using it for. But no cosmic reproach came. The Force seemed remarkably agreeable to be used to facilitate a wake-up blowjob. The Living Force in particular — as much as I could tell the aspects apart — seemed almost amused.
‘A celebration of life…’ The words came to me unbidden. I shook the uncanny message from my mind. That answered that, though. And a reminder to get my train of thought back on track. The Force was leagues more willing to be used for sex than it was willing to countenance the abomination that was Kyber-spice.
“It’s that fucking drug,” I began, talking through my thoughts. “It… vexes me. And I can’t even tell how much of that vexation is my simple good sense and how much of it is the fucking Force itself.”
Sasha lent me her ears as she occupied her mouth with equally important concerns. She took me deep and I punctuated my sentence with a groan. Swallowing around me — casually milking me with her throat — Sasha cocked her head. Interest and a hint of confusion at my mention of the Force. Seeing that, I did my best to keep my wits about me and clarify.
“It has a will of its own. The Force fucking wants things. I’m positive it’s pointing — practically shoving — me in a certain direction. But my concerns can’t be dismissed as just the Force. That… drug… is fucked. Just about the worst idea I’ve ever come across. The very concept of it is akin to playing with fire. And everyone in the local area is going to be burned.”
Sasha hummed to show she was listening. The vibrations shot straight to my core through my cock. I pointedly didn’t let my expression even twitch. As if that was an unspoken challenge, Sasha slurped loudly on my cock. Pleasure ran along my length from base to tip. I remained placid, simply continuing to talk as if she wasn’t trying to suck my thoughts out through a meaty, carnal straw.
“Something has to be done. Something will be done. I’m not going to sit around while shit hits the fan and sprays all over everyone. What we can do, though… That’s where I start running into questions.”
Sasha plunged her head all the way to the base of my cock. She held herself there for a moment. A long, blissful moment where I was sheathed to the hilt in tight, wet, swallowing warmth. Sasha’s heart eyes squeezed shut and her whole body shook.
Slowly, she pulled herself back, her head rising off my length. Every unsheathed inch seemed to linger as her lips suckled their way up my shaft. The air in our bedroom — a stark contrast from the snug warmth of Sasha’s throat — almost stung as it hit more and more of my polished cockmeat. Finally, I popped free, standing straight up from the sheer strength of my erection. Sasha’s mouth lolled open. Strings of spit still connected my cock to her lips.
“Gah~! Hah~…” She panted for a moment, catching her breath, before lovingly speaking her piece. “I’m with you, Atom. Always. You know that. Use this time to think and plan. I’ll make sure your mind stays clear down here~…”
With that said, she dove right back in on my cock. Wet, lewd slurps. Worshipful attention. She practically bathed every inch of my length with her tongue. All immediately after declaring her devotion. She said it. Now, she was proving it.
I’ll admit, I was a bit fucking moved. A touch touched. Damn… I was kinda, really lucky to have Sasha, wasn’t I? I set my mind to thinking and planning, staving off my inevitable, rapidly approaching climax with concentration and will. It was made slightly difficult by Sasha suddenly deepthroating me again… and again…
A groan stole itself from my throat but I still managed to find my words and wits, “Hrrrrrnn… We need more information. Real, actionable information. Not ramblings from a spice addict and my assumptions. As it is, I’m already certain that we’re working for the idiot who’s tempting the Force itself.”
Sasha gave a slurping nod of agreement. The motion, sound, and sensation sent thrills straight through me. The way she lovingly caressed the base of my shaft drove thought from my mind. I wrestled it back into place. I growled, and not just at that slight bit of mental effort I had to expend.
“Fucking Hutts… Taking a job with them was a terrible idea. I’m a bit annoyed that I didn’t see that earlier. Now, we’re stuck in the middle of Zorba’s stupid scheme. At the very least, we need to cut ties before the Jedi start showing up. I know they will. Ideally, though, we stop all of this before they get the chance.”
Sasha tensed slightly at the mention of Jedi. She relaxed again a moment later, simply sucking and worshipping. All of her trust was invested in me. She was confident I wouldn’t lead her wrong, and that confidence put her mind at ease. She practically declared as much with a twisting, gawking bob of her head and hands.
“I’m going to have to step up my personal efforts. The Upgrade needs an update,” I considered aloud. “We have to bring the rest of the crew in on this, too. Then… scouting, I think. We need much more information than we currently have.
“I want to know more about Zorba’s operation than he does. Where is he getting the Force crystals? How is he processing them into the actual Kyber-spice? Are there other additives or other spices? How is he dealing it out to the public? And where the hell did this idea even come from? Once we’ve answered those questions, we can start putting action to words.”
The last sentence was said with resolution in my voice. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, especially concerning the Hutts. Going in without enough information got us into this mess. The opposite would get us out. Of course, getting out looked to be a struggle and a half. I was already tempering my expectations of what was possible. Whatever the cost ended up being, I was prepared to pay it to get the crew out of dodge.
I never trusted the Hutts. But I didn’t think they were this bad. I thought they’d just be an easy job and a way to lay low. The status quo in Hutt Space, as it were. This was turning out to be anything but. Our employer was either overly ambitious, desperate, or just that fucking stupid. No matter which, Zorba was much too high on his own hype for my comfort.
We couldn’t even quietly exit stage left at this point. Not for any reasons of ‘conscience’ or other such nonsense on my part. But because even if we did, the storm would hit us anyway. We were implicated. Hell, in the Jedi and Sith’s eyes, all of Nar Shaddaa might be implicated. The only solution I could conceive right now was removing the whole issue root and stem. Drastic action — something I was finding myself quite good at… — and then, so, so much damage control.
I found myself drifting off again, a frustrated rumble building in my chest. Sasha did a good job of pulling me back again. Her movements intensified as if feeling my discontent. Up and down, she stroked her lips along my cock. Her cheeks hollowed out, hugging me with every slurp. One of her hands crept downward, fingers applying pressure to my taint.
The last made me jump slightly. And then, groan explosively. The touch and indirect pressure on my prostate started a series of contractions in my core. My composure broke, and my head fell back. Without much more fanfare, I came under Sasha’s masterful manipulations.
My first shot started as an almost choked trickle and ended as a fat fucking spurted rope. The next few were explosive, filling Sasha’s mouth to the brim. To the point of puffed-out cheeks, in fact. The increased metabolism from my Upgrade extended to all bodily functions. Double, then triple the usual amount. I fed Sasha a hearty breakfast without ever leaving our bed.
She swallowed it all. Greedily gulped it down until there wasn’t a drop left. Even as I spent myself to a trickle, she sucked and suckled. Appreciative, intense heart eyes stared up at me when I raised my head again. They twinkled with vibrant pink light as she finally came up for air with a throaty purr on her tongue.
“Mmmm~… Itadakimasu and gochisosama~… What a perfect way to start the day~…”
I had to glance away from the enticing scene to prevent temptation, looking up at the ceiling to steel my will, “… Get up. We’ve got work to do.”
IIIII
Truthfully, work had already begun. For me personally, at least. It’d been going for two weeks already, since before the Arasaka job. Something I’d been working on in the background. And it started and ended with my Upgrade.
Now, a ticking clock was forcing my hand. I needed to be ready for everything and anything headed our way. Once again, I was pulling the trigger on an essential biological improvement before I truly wanted to. But it would never be perfect. And compared to the initial, holistic Upgrade, my new update was almost simple. I was confident it’d work exactly as it was supposed to.
The new update focused on experimental features. I hadn’t found much need for bug fixes yet. I knew I would. But I’d burn that bridge when I crossed it. The experimental features were threefold, all based on evolutionary adaptations I was familiar with. Well, vaguely familiar. The first was a crock of bullshit that somehow still worked when I pieced it all together.
Pheromones… They didn’t work the way I imagined them. Not in real nature and evolution. But add a touch of the Force and wonderfully useful things could happen. Namely, when things went in the way of the Zeltrons and Falleen. I based my work on both species, having met both. The Falleen were more common on Nar Shaddaa — enticing, exotically beautiful, and vaguely reptilian people. But the Zeltrons seemed to be more effective with human biology.
At one point in the species’ evolutionary histories, their pheromones might’ve been used for communication or scent-marking. The current iteration, though, was a terrifically effective social lubricant. An olfactory influence that was hard to deny. A seductive scent to sway almost any humanoid species in the galaxy. I wanted that ability for myself. So I simply took it.
Whenever I met either species, I subtly collected cultures of their pheromones. Force Bio-Alchemy was used to decipher and replicate them. Then, I set about inventing a way to recreate them automatically. The end result was half-grown, half cobbled together from whatever I had on hand. Scrapyard mechanics never failed to serve me well, especially when it was just as effective in a ‘biological scrapyard’ as a mechanical one.
I ended up with an experimental scent gland that I surgically implanted in the base of my throat. Once implanted and integrated, I had a series of scents at my disposal to seduce, sway, and socialize to my heart’s content. Figuring out how to actually use them… was a work in progress.
The first time I tried, inviting Sasha to take a whiff of my new and improved neck… she came so hard from the scent alone that she passed out on the spot. Eyes rolling. Strings cut. A gush of orgasmic arousal making a puddle between her legs that she would’ve inevitably collapsed into if I didn’t catch her. The works. So I’d obviously done something right. Just… maybe a bit too right. Again, it was a work in progress.
The second update was something I’d shamelessly stolen from the Togruta. Echolocation. So goddamn useful that it almost hurt to have never had it once I did. True spatial awareness — almost on par with a connection to the Force. Without the Togrutas montrals, I simply had to make do with my natural ears. It was the first time I’d truly tried the internal use of Force Bio-Alchemy. But with careful tweaks, one moment of having to recover my hearing completely with Force Healing, and persistence, I managed.
It worked. It worked better than I anticipated. I knew it was theoretically possible for humans to echolocate. Doing it for myself was a whole different matter. By tweaking my eardrums to hear wider ranges, double-layering them to take inspiration from the hollow chamber of Togruta montrals, and boosting my auditory processing centers with a steady flow of the Force, I got a shockingly clear picture of the world around me. ‘Clear’ in a different, much more physically attuned way than simply relying on the Force, too.
The best part was that I could turn it off and back on again by toggling the flow of Force. The additional auditory information could be taxing at times. Like I was hearing everything twice thanks to my new echo chamber eardrums. How the Togruta got any sleep like this — worse since the chambers in their montrals were much larger — I’d never know.
The third of my diversifying experimental improvements was something I was both proud of and a bit disturbed by. It was the most drastic and physically noticeable of the three. A flex of the muscles in my lower back and upper ass brought it around in front of me. A tail… I’d grown myself a prehensile tail.
And honestly…? It was like I’d been missing something my whole life without even knowing it. I barely even had to integrate and accustom myself to it. It just… clicked. Moving it, grasping with it, using it for balance — everything was instinctive. A genetic muscle memory that humanity must’ve never lost.
It was just wholly, inherently right for man to have a tail again. Even the Force seemed to trill and chirp with amused happiness at the sight. It was damn useful, too. Essentially a third hand, and a surprisingly dexterous one, at that.
My tail was covered in blond fur the same color as my hair, and long enough to wrap around my waist like a belt when not in use. That motion came surprisingly naturally, too, making me wonder if I had a bit of Saiyan in my blood or something…
The slightly disturbing part about my tail… came from its source. A hundred slum rats went into its creation process, and the same number of monkey lizards — thankfully, the non-sapient variety that was essentially just pests on Nar Shaddaa. The tail-flesh was melted into organic goo and recorporated in my image, but… I’d never be able to think of my new tail without thinking of those damned rats. On one hand, it was revenge for being forced to eat so many of the fuckers during my first feral weeks here. On the other… they might’ve gotten the last laugh.
The development of all three updates was the work of two weeks, aided at every step by Inspired Inventor+ and the Force. But the installation process was rushed into the rest of that morning. We had things to do and too little time to waste.
As it was, I’d be adjusting to my new diversification of abilities on the fly. I found the process easier than it should’ve been. Completely natural, in fact. Humanity: Maxed reared its beautiful head. I’d felt it with the Upgrade itself, but it really made itself known when I added a whole new limb and five minutes later, was using it to hold a drink as if it’d always been there.
Sasha had already called an emergency meeting of the crew by the time I finished my quite literal self-improvement. There was no way we were ‘going in to work’ today, fucking commuting to Zorba’s skyscraper throne room like we’d been forced to do for the past week to cater to a Hutt’s ego. One way or the other, our contract with the Hutts was going to be closed. I saw no reason to continue paying lip service — if Zorba would even notice we weren’t there, unlikely — to the idiotic slug behind this whole Kyber-spice mess.
As we waited for everyone to arrive, I turned my focus to Inspired Inventor+. More esoteric than my bio-improvements, updates, and Upgrade. But even more important, too. The foundation needed to grow. I’d earned four points since I last truly invested them. I didn’t see any reason to continue hoarding. Not now, with chaos and action on the horizon.
One point, I’d earned from the Arasaka job. The second was from (finally) fucking Sasha. Points for sexual conquests just like other conquests. Something to keep in mind. The third was for stumbling upon the Kyber-spice mess. I didn’t know if it was the Force or Inspired Inventor+ rewarding me for that one. Likely both. And the last was earned this morning as the week ticked over.
I spent all four points. The first went into raising Espionage to level II. It’d served me well with the (now-extinct) Tyger Claws and Arasaka. It was one of those fields that wasn’t flashy (especially if done right) but ungodly effective for the price. Espionage could be applied to almost anything. And it’d be especially effective for gathering information on and dismantling an entire drug operation.
The second and third points went into raising Force Sensitivity to level III. It seemed appropriate. I’d never say no to more Force skills — widespread and general though they were — and a deeper connection. It also allowed me to test the price increase that came with higher Inspired Inventor+ levels. The first two levels were the same price — a single point. Then, two points for level III, and I could feel that level IV would cost four.
Hopefully, it was just doubling with each level after II and not an exponential scale. It was still too early to tell there. And I’d have to test some more to see if the price increase applied to all skills and techs or just Force powers. Force Healing, I could feel was in the same boat. Level III would run me two points. Same with Force Bio-Alchemy. But Espionage III and Improvised Medical Care III felt like they would still only cost one. If that trend continued, mundane skills and techs wouldn’t lose out against Force powers as quickly as I’d anticipated.
My last point was spent for something a bit esoteric even for Inspired Inventor+. Coordination I… Mainly for the crew. Peak human coordinating skills would serve us well. Exponentially well. Effective teamwork was a force multiplier like little else.
Also… I had a hunch about how this Kyber-spice mess would end up playing out. If it was right, the ability to coordinate people who might not otherwise listen to me would be invaluable. Management I would also be good to pick up… Again, if my hunch was right…
Inspired Inventor+
Humanity [Maxed]
Scavenging I
Scrapyard Mechanics I
Emergency/Improvised Medical Care II
Cyberware I
Brawling (Weapons Varied) I
Force Healing II
Genetic Engineering (Evolutionary) I
Force Bio-Alchemy II
Gun-Fu I
Espionage I [+1] II
Force Sensitivity II [+1/cost 2] III
[+] Coordination I
The crew trickled in pretty quickly after Sasha put out the call. It seemed everyone else was just as eager as I was to close our contract early. The Hutts didn’t make friends easily. In the end, the crew would stick together. Of that, I was confident.
Immediately upon arriving, almost all of the crew had the same reaction. In some ‘cosmic funni’, everyone walked in on me doing something with my new tail. Reaching for something. Grooming it. Trying to hold a blaster pistol with it. And when that failed, fitting it with a caudal weapon.
Maine and Dorio walked in on the first. They essentially just shrugged and accepted it. Drastic bodily modification wasn’t all that strange in Night City. The way I’d gone about it raised an eyebrow, but Maine and Dorio honestly didn’t have anything to disapprove of.
Lucy walked in on the second, pausing for a long moment before shaking her head, “Fragging ‘ganic chrome…”
Kiwi — having come in with her — barely even glanced my way.
David and Gloria walked in on the third. Gloria got this odd look on her face when she saw my tail like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. David just screwed his expression up in confusion, “Uh, choom…? Whatcha doing?”
“Fucking around,” I grunted. “And hopefully not finding out.”
Immediately after saying that, a purposeful twitch of my tail pulled the blaster’s trigger. A blaster bolt shot straight through Sasha’s open window — open for precisely that reason. But it only barely cleared the frame. I clicked my tongue. Inconsistent. Difficult to aim. I’d have to learn to shoot all over again if I wanted to use a blaster with my tail. It likely wasn’t worth it. At the very least, it was a long-term project in the making.
David stared at me and my new tail in awe, “Wizard…”
Gloria simply sighed, “Well, at least it’s not the worst thing you could’ve done to yourself.”
That not-quite-dead end led directly to throwing something together and fitting it to the end of my tail. It was essentially just a switchblade strapped to the tip. Crude. But effective, especially when the blade and the force it popped out with were sharp and strong enough to pierce steel. That was the scene Becca and Pilar walked in on, just in time to watch my tailblade pop out for the first time.
Becca’s reaction was — predictably — the loudest, “Preem~! That’s that shit I like to see, Atom! Still ‘ganic, I see… But that’s cool, too~! Shank a gonk with a tail~! Penetrate a motherfucker~!”
“It’s acceptable,” I nodded before turning my attention back to business. “Now, everyone’s here. Sasha and I have news to break.”
“What? That you’re finally freakin’ it with each other?” Lucy smirked.
“Yes~!” Sasha exclaimed excitedly.
“No,” I cut her off at the same time. “We are. But that’s not the news. Shit’s about to hit the fan. For all of Nar Shaddaa. And we’re likely to be caught right up in the middle of it.”
“Talk to us, choom,” Maine said, leaning back in his seat with widespread arms that just so happened to be around Dorio and Gloria. “What’s the sitch?”
“I found out what the new spice going around is. Zorba’s grand scheme or whatever. It’s not something we want to be even vaguely a part of.”
Pilar snorted, interrupting me, “I could’ve told you that, broski. I don’t see why we wouldn’t want a slice, though. Good money, good spice, good high, what’s not to like?”
I glared at him, “They’re fucking Force drugs. Playing with fire. No, playing with fucking plasma. Everyone’s going to be burned. The whole Jedi Order is liable to come down on everyone involved. To say nothing about the forces in the shadows. It’s the most braindead, foolhardy, and arrogantly suicidal idea I’ve ever come across.”
“So, of course, it comes from a Hutt…” Gloria muttered thoughtfully. “The Hutt we’re working for, too?”
“Oh, yeah!” Pilar grinned. “Kyber-spice is all Zorba. He’s a genius!”
“A suicidal lackwit,” I corrected, doubly my glare. “Force drugs. You’re snorting literal magic crystals. Smoking. Injecting. Whatever.”
“Sign me the fuck up!”
Thankfully, Becca hit him with a kidney punch before I could try out my new tail blade on him, “Oh, shut up, bro. Atom’s saying that’s all bad news! The last thing the galaxy needs is magic Dorphheads!”
“So… what are we looking at here…? Really looking at?” Lucy asked intently.
“Other than the potential Force tweakers?” I scowled. “The attention of some powerful, powerful people will inevitably fall on our little corner of the galaxy if nothing is done. The kind of power that makes Arasaka look like a small player. Other Hutts, Jedi, Senate, worse… It’s in our best interest to start damage control now before things can turn truly tits up.”
“Also,” Sasha casually added. “It gives us the chance to fuck with the Hutts something heavy.”
“Shit, choom,” Maine chuckled. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”
“I’m in,” Becca grinned maniacally. I’m so, so, SO! In!”
“Thank the Stars…” David breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to bring it up, but… I kinda… sorta… absolutely despise the Hutts.”
“As you should, mijo,” Gloria nodded. “Working for them a single week is enough for a lifetime.”
“We’re with you, Atom,” Dorio said, her steadfast support like a solid rock in the Force. “What do we need to do?”
I couldn’t help the wicked, anticipatory grin that spread across my face as the crew joined up practically one after the other. You couldn’t buy loyalty like this. And even if we were doing desperate damage control, this was still a chance to do some real damage of our own.
“What do we do…?” I asked rhetorically, my grin growing wider and darker. “We strike first. We strike first and burn it all down.”
IIIII
Our efforts against the Kyber-spice epidemic began (unfortunately) with something I was dreading: politics. Criminal politics, but politics all the same. It was necessary. But I didn’t have to like it one fucking bit.
If there were people and power, there was a game to be played. And in the half-criminal, half-feudal hierarchy of the Hutt Cartels, that was doubly true. The stakes were high, and the prize was never sweeter. The Hutt at the head of a given cartel was the figurehead. The king. Their many, many vassals were where the power truly lay. Zorba’s kajidic was no exception.
If anything, the criminals and crime lords below — and including — Zorba were more true politicians than the Republic Senate. Criminals had no need for a facade of lawfulness in their politics. They were much more open and honest about their bribes and kickbacks, quid-pro-quos, backstabs, and backroom agreements.
Though, to be accurate, the vassals and lords beneath Zorba were considered upstanding citizens in Hutt Space — almost exactly akin to the Senators of the Republic. After all, ‘criminal’ didn’t actually mean anything when there were no laws to be broken in the first place. ‘Crime’ was barely even a word for the trillions of sapients under Hutt rule. Not a condemnation or accusation. Not unless it was committed against a Hutt, of course…
We were about to commit exactly that taboo, though. We’d be acting directly against a Hutt. A ruling Hutt, at that. Thankfully, Zorba was anything but popular among his Hutt peers. When crime was so loosely defined, everything could be considered relative. Some Hutts would likely even reward us for giving Zorba a bloody nose. So I was willing to take that chance rather than wait for much more certain consequences his Kyber-spice scheme would bring down upon everyone on Nar Shaddaa.
Despite our growing fame, the crew was still a small player in Zorba’s sphere of influence. To accomplish anything significant, we needed support. Allies. Co-conspirators. That, of course, meant playing the game of ‘criminal’ (read: power) politics right underneath Zorba’s nose.
I was half-tempted to go in on our own. But… in Hutt Space, nothing was more powerful than a Hutt Cartel. Even one led by an unpopular Hutt. Zorba’s organization was wide-reaching and decentralized. Practically the opposite of Arasaka. Where Arasaka had a central operation we could strike at, trying the same with Zorba’s kajidic would have us running around for years. But that also opened up an opportunity. If we could usurp the decentralized ‘nodes’ of power below Zorba — his vassals and lesser lords — we could start making real progress, real quick.
That consideration was what mainly found me fucking commuting one more time. Commuting… Like a mere fucking office drone. I’d quickly come to hate the commute to Zorba’s throne room and palatial skyscraper. It was a petty complaint. But I loathed answering to a Hutt’s ego. Unfortunately, decentralized as it was, Zorba’s sphere of influence did have a center point. And surprise, surprise, it was right beneath the slug’s slimy mass.
Maine made a call on the way there. The same contact of his that initially got us the Hutt gig answered it. A Night City merc turned Hutt Cartel baron named Shaitan. It quickly became clear that despite his position, Shaitan was more than willing to hear our cause out. Or maybe just Maine. Either worked for me. Especially when Shaitan said he could gather other vassals whose loyalties might very well be swayed away from Zorba.
Edgerunning respect ran deeper than Hutt payrolls, it seemed. Shaitan came through for Maine once again. And for the rest of us by proxy. But I couldn’t discount self-interest as his motivation. There was profit to be had if we succeeded. Shaitan was coming through for us. But he was also betting on us.
More and more — as my plans developed — this whole mess was turning into a straight-out coup in the making. Swaying loyal vassals and underlings. Exploiting the many, many cracks in such a large organization. Striking directly against the Hutt in charge. All to get to the suicidally braindead operation Zorba was putting all his chips on.
The thought… didn’t repulse me. Originally, I planned to just crash and burn the Kyber-spice operation to the ground. But was there a better position to put it to the torch from than the very top? My goal was shifting. If I could sway enough of Zorba’s vassals, why not just usurp the whole cartel…?
Honestly, Zorba should thank me for what I was about to do. In a very real way, I’d be saving his whole fucking cartel. But considering he’d likely be too dead to enjoy the benefits — salted and broiled alive in his skin like the slug he was if I had my way — I wasn’t holding my breath for that thanks to come anytime soon.
The meeting that would likely become the most consequential event of Zorba’s thousand-year reign happened right under his nose. In his own tower, with Sasha, Lucy, and Kiwi providing air-tight security. Half a dozen of Zorba’s vassals answered Shaitan’s call — everyone he’d invited. It seemed that The Arasaka-hating full-borg hedged his bets well. An encouraging sign when he was now betting on us.
The whole crew was waiting as the vassals arrived. A show of force and solidarity. We outnumbered the other half of the meeting. The six of them were diverse, coming from every corner of Zorba’s ‘kingdom’, yet there was no denying that each of the vassals was powerful in their own rights. Physically dangerous. Or subtly influential.
Shaitan took up a prominent position in the commandeered meeting room. Close to us, but not ‘with’ us. A facade of neutrality. To be expected since he was the hinge that brought the vassals and the crew together.
He was the first thing anyone entering the room would see, cutting an intimidating figure. Six feet of pure chrome. His full-borg frame looked vaguely ninja-esque, with interlocking plates of dull silver and an unreadable black viewport in place of his eyes. To the naked eye, he looked unarmed. I doubt anyone would take that fact for granted. With bare chrome hands alone, he could likely rip through metal like paper.
His presence was… unique… in the Force. Muted in some ways — emotions and the life signs from his biopod. Magnified in others — an iron will that kept a stranglehold on the Living Force through sheer force of being. So long as that will remained, he wouldn’t die or drive himself psycho easily. He wasn’t Force-sensitive. But the weight of a full-borg’s willpower rested heavily in the Force all the same.
Like Smasher. Only a touch less dangerous-feeling, too. I wasn’t dumb enough to compare him to Arasaka’s Chrome Rancor anywhere but in the safety of my mind. Besides, Shaitan lacked the same… finality… that Smasher radiated with every chrome pulse of his being. Our borg ally was dangerous — undeniably so — but no one compared to the Smasher.
“Show me what you are made of, Atom-san…” Shaitan rasped in a smooth, heavily accented voice like pieces of vellum sliding against each other. “Your plan, your cause, your resolve — proof is now required.”
“Hn,” I made a noise of acknowledgment but didn’t say anything more, keeping my eyes glued on the door as the rest of the vassals arrived.
Shaitan briefed us on the vassals he’d chosen beforehand. Names. Appearances. General warnings. I tracked each arrival with slightly more information than I would’ve had as a result.
The first was a Mandolorian in full beskar armor, colored tan and black. Male or female, it was impossible to tell with a glance. Didn’t matter, either. They carried themself with quiet confidence, a competence that didn’t need to be bragged. Coyate. A long-contracted Hutt merc who owed Shaitan a life debt.
A Weequay man stumbled in second. He held a bottle by the neck. Every movement was made with a fluid sway. A drunk, to the undiscerning eye. The impression was furthered by his outfit, practically the image of a spacer pirate. The uncannily sharp gleam in his eyes betrayed the facade.
The Force whispered that he was just as dangerous as the Mandolorian, even more so when underestimated. Linth. ‘Spacer extraordinaire!’ in his own words. Perpetually half-drunk, in Shaitan’s. ‘Never let him out of your sight,’ Shaitan also said…
Even with the short briefing, I was slightly surprised to see a Twi’lek dancer come in third. Yellow-skinned and voluptuous, she wore barely more than sheer gauzy silk. It paradoxically emphasized and hid her body with every seductive, well-practiced movement. Yet somehow, she still managed to come across as more… cute… than sexy, with an undeniable air of gentle sweetness about her that hadn’t been broken by her time under Zorba’s slime. A straight-up miraculous feat.
De’vi. The representative of Zorba’s Twi’lek harems. They were apparently so numerous as to make up a significantly influential faction within the cartel. An important party to get on our side for smooth and meaningful transitions, Shaitan advised.
Fourth, an armored figure to match the Mandolorian Coyate. Shorter than average. But wide. Imposingly buff beneath those armor plates. He was covered from head to toe, using a sickly green skull mask for a face plate. He even had chrome. An obvious cyberarm. But I could sense that his legs were chrome as well. Shank the Gank. ‘Gank’ was the species. An infamous species and culture of killers. From Shaitan’s words, there were more Ganks on Nar Shaddaa than on their homeworld. Following Shank, they’d make a formidable army.
Everyone before and including Shank arrived early. Our fifth arrived exactly on time. She strode in like she already owned the room. Alien. But hauntingly beautiful. A Falleen woman, with a perfectly symmetrical face and a slim, sultry figure. The vaguely reptilian tint to her skin and features only made her more exotic, more enticing.
Suunri. The Black Widow. Why people would compare her to a spider when the snake analogy was right there, I didn’t know. ‘Whatever you do…’ Shaitan had warned ‘Do not lay with her’. ‘Yeah, no sn-ussy for you, choom!’ Becca had chimed in as well…
Her pheromones took over the room on arrival. A sweet, smokey, and seductive scent like incense. I fired back with an olfactory challenge. A sharp smell like a slap across the nose. It didn’t linger. But instantly, the Black Widow’s eyes snapped to me with scary focus. I’d earned her attention. Her interest, without a doubt. So long as she heard me out, she could hyper-fixate on me all she wanted.
As exotically beautiful as she was, there would be no ‘sn-ussy’ — as Becca elegantly put it — for me. I liked my afterglow without potentially venomous fangs in my neck, thank you very much.
As everyone arrived, faction lines were drawn almost immediately. Coyate and Shank locked eyes from across the room. Shank seemed to be itching for a fight. Coyate didn’t give him an inch. Suunri pulled De’vi into her orbit once she got there. Linth lingered around both women, grinning and greeting them like a drunken fool as they both indulged him.
Taking in the scene, I growled, “We’re still missing one.”
“The Hutt,” Shaitan simply said. “Any moment now. His ambition won’t allow him to miss this opportunity.”
Sure enough, one of the damned slugs slithered into the room a few minutes late. ‘Fashionably’ late, I’m sure. He was small for his species. Young, I had to assume. But the sight of any Hutt set my teeth on edge. Ave Wonn. A distant, distant cousin of Zorba. One who likely saw himself as Zorba’s heir. Shaitan included him in this meeting, but I could already tell he’d be a problem.
“Ah, good, good, you’re all here!” Ave began as if this was his meeting. He carried himself with much more energy than the older Hutts I’d seen — Zorba primely among them — and even spoke Basic instead of Huttese. That was just about the only pleasant surprise about him.
“It’s wonderful to see you fine beings, of course! Friends, one and all! I even see new faces. Splendid! This has the potential to be the finest alliance I’ve ever concocted-…”
Shaitan said nothing to the Hutt commandeering our meeting. He simply watched me instead, waiting to see what I would do. He wasn’t the only one. The other vassals had realized who the main impetus behind this meeting was. And it wasn’t the Hutt or even Shaitan. The masks of the Mandolorian and Gank were unmoving. The Black Widow hadn’t taken her eyes off me once. The Weequay pirate’s gaze was all too perceptive. Even the Twi’lek dancer looked without looking, nibbling slightly at her lower lip. They watched. They waited. I was loathe to disappoint.
I called. The Force answered. It began with a hand of telekinetic force over the slug’s flapping lips. Ave’s gaping maw was forced shut. The air in the room seemed to shake in the sudden silence — under the sudden weight behind my glare. An immaterial growl that built and lingered just beneath hearing range. Then… the storm hit.
If there was one thing anyone in power could understand, it was a show of force. The Force, in this case. These lesser crime lords we were dealing with, they’d see it. They’d respect it. They’d fear it. And even if they inevitably looked for ways around it, they’d be forced to hear it out first.
With a violent rip, 700 pounds of Hutt was yanked into the air by its slimy tail. I held him there, upside down and unable to escape my glare. At the same time, my mind reached out to the other vassals in the room. One by one, they were levitated about a foot off the ground. Compared to the Hutt, their sudden rises were gentle. Almost tender. But a clear-cut warning all the same.
The reactions were varied. Linth the Weequay chuckled and reclined in mid-air as if he were simply in a hammock. Suunri the Black Widow’s tongue darted out between her lips, forked and tempting. Coyate the Mandolorian locked up completely. Shank the Gank flailed and snarled impotently before suddenly going still like a cowed and tamed dog. De’vi the Twi’lek let out an innocent, awed, and honestly adorable gasp. And Ave the Hutt… started crying, bawling, sobbing as if the world was ending around him. I didn’t even know slugs could cry…
Still, my glare deepened with a scowl, “… Shut up.”
Miraculously, he did. Or more accurately, every muscle in his body suddenly seized so that he couldn’t cry anymore. If that didn’t put the fear of God into the Hutt, nothing would. Satisfied, I turned my attention back to the rest of the room. My concentration strained to keep them all in the air, but I didn’t let a hint of it show on my face.
“… I called you all here for a warning. And… an opportunity if we play our cards right. Now, you’re going to hear me out. Once you hear my warning, you’ll realize I’m looking out for all of our asses.
“If you’re smart, you’ll join me. If not… well, we won’t tolerate even the possibility of a leak. Loyalty and investment will be rewarded. Handsomely. A new era is coming. Welcome onto the ground floor…”
IIIII
Bonus Pics (sauce below)
Comments
dryskies_btb
That's probably fair. Those kinds of upgrades take time and likely more points in Inspired Inventor stuff, though. Atom will definitely have to up his power-scaling dramatically to match Star Wars Smasher. Ganic nanomachines isn't a bad suggestion. I'll be sure to keep it in mind (might actually just use it outright lol)
Dan W
Well. It’s fine as a concept. But I think his priorities for it are wrong entirely. He screwed up and put himself on Adam freaking Smashers radar. He should be less focused on tail growing & pheromone excretion and instead doing something that would actually help him survive their next meeting. I know he basically captain Americaed himself with that injection to the heart, but that is not nearly enough. This is night city in star wars. Wouldn’t be shocked if Adams chrome is made of beskar. If Atom is not getting cyberware. Then he needs to heavily invest in combat skills like gun fu/armed combat & invent something like a bio version of armstrongs nanomachies.
dryskies_btb
In a good way or a bad way? Just curious. It's still 'inventing', just in a somewhat unique direction. Oh, and he absolutely will. Managing the Jedi harem members will be a process but I have plans to make it mostly believable. Same-ish with Padme. I definitely won't be rushing any of their inductions into the harem, though. Slowburn for the Jedi, methinks.
Dan W
This is going in the complete opposite direction than I thought when I first seen “inspired inventor”, grafting a tail onto himself rather than inventing stuff. He’s not going to be a crime lord is he? I doubt any future jedi harem members will appreciate that. You’ve already told us Shaak ti will be in it.
Handyandy
Uhm are we totally sure on the no snussy rule?
MrX
Yea he can control all the "good" shit and ban all the bad and right up self harm shit. Well we will have to see where our lovely author takes it and where he will land on the good Vs evil of things with the mundane and force stuff. So far it's on the neutral+ good side of things. With some bad sprinkles here and there, but not really if we talk night city. 🌆
kiddeath1998
This is such a good story like I don't think people really understand how good this story is I have read over 8 years worth of fanfiction I don't know how many I just know I started about a year after college and I can honestly say this is one of the best FanFictions I ever read
Ozzy117
Does he know how to suppress or at least restrain his force presence? Cause it sounds like right now he's around the level of Sidious or Yoda in raw power and he's just walking around casually with an untamed force presence. It would be like staring at the sun to any force sensitive probably around Night City's vicinity. Any Jedi on the planet should have noticed by now
jp9901
Organic chrome is one of the best ideas I've ever seen. Pheromone manipulation, echolocation, a fucking tail! Top tier shit right here! Atom being a kingpin is so fucking right! Also, the sn-ussy may be out of reach now but once poison/toxin resistance is in Atom's inventory, we will come back to it!
dryskies_btb
Training/skill/experience-wise? Atom's essentially a Padawan set to graduate. Level IV would make him essentially a Knight, and then V would be a Master. Power/Midoclorian-wise is a bit trickier, mainly cause midoclorians are infamously inconsistent. Still, increasing Force-Sensitivity does increase midoclorian levels. At level III, Atom would be about 19k. In other words, Powerful enough to start attracting attention...
Gamesempie
Unfortunately, disgusting as they are, the Hutts are a useful species for any raising crime lord in the Star Wars galaxy. Find a way to control them and you've got half the galaxies underworld at your feet. Personally I recommend looking into what the Hutts call the Wasting disease and learning how to weaponize it to increase its potency and infection rate, but only activate on targeted commands.
Israel Perez-Rolo
Atom is going to be a full-blown straight up Force saipan by the end of this. Which is hilarious because any other force user asking him how he can fly he can just clap back with skill issue.
McgiggletitsMadden23
Yo, give him pronounced upper and lower canines like a mandrill. And that padding around the brain/skull like a wood pecker. And a bunch of WH40k extra organs and mods.
Kz3838
Thank you for the great chapter, did not expect Atom to go the Crime Lord route but I am eager to see how this plays out. Stay safe out there and keep up the good work!
Kasikan
Is there a reason he didn't just use his Force Alchemy to create a plague to wipe out the Hutts? It'd be the route I'd go. Give everyone else in the galaxy a cold that lasts a week while giving the Hutts an illness that wipes out their entire race. Plague creation is one of the best and most well known uses for Force Alchemy.
Ozzy117
Do you have some guideline for how he compares with each level of Force Sensitivity he gains? Like at Level 3 right now does he compare to an average Jedi Padawan or something and maybe Level 10 Luke Skywalker (Legends Luke is bullshit).
QuantumServer
Thanks for the chapter
ExodiaTheForbiddenOne
Amazing work as always tho dry thanks for your hardwork !
ExodiaTheForbiddenOne
Fucking force tweakers ? Meth already gives people super powers now they’re making meth with actual magic ? This isn’t gonna end well
dryskies_btb
Sauce Suunri (Falleen): Duncan Fegredo (official Star Wars comic cover art) De’vi (Twi’lek): RigelPererali Bonus 1: demonmika 2: kalaynokay 3: madiisonmoore 4: _aozora_x 5: fraoula00 6: amfytamine 7: lumarist 8: telishamaree
