HuttGirls: Mara Jade

[ This one was suggested by a longtime patron of mine.  I would have never thought of it otherwise.  Thanks, dude! ]

The last time she looked upon the face of the Emperor -- the man who trained her, the man whose loyalty she strove to earn with every action -- his face was contorted with inhuman rage.  The very air was electric with it.

"Again, my Hand, you have failed to kill Luke Skywalker!  I have grown weary of your ineptitude, and can no longer bear to look upon you!"

Mara Jade thought these were her last moments.  He was going to strike her dead, as he had many before her.  But then, for just a moment, he hesitated.  The fire of his rage flickered, and he instead motioned to the Captain.  Could it be that he would actually feel some small measure of regret at her death?  Was he capable of that emotion?

"Get her out of my sight.  I don't care what you do with her, just make certain that she never crosses my sight again.  Take her somewhere far, far away, someplace from where she cannot return."

The Captain saluted.  Mara's chest unclenched just a little.  Even at his angriest, Palpatine didn't want to lose anything that might be useful later.  Then the Emperor raised his hand, and she instantly fell into darkness.

...

When she awoke, the Captain was nowhere to be seen.  Nor was she even on an Imperial vessel, she sensed.  The smells, the sounds were far more alien.  Mara opened her eyes and saw that she was confined in a small cell, chained by her hands and feet.  There were beings nearby, and in a moment she recognized... Zygerrians.  The galaxy's most notorious slavers.

"Ah, you're awake," their burly leader drawled, his catlike face leering at her with disinterest.  

Mara tried to reach out with the Force, to choke the life out of her captors, to fling their skulls into the bars, but to no avail.  Instead of the Force, she felt nothing.

"Don't bother with that," the Zygerrian sneered.  "We've dealt with your kind before.  That collar you're wearing?  It's not purely ornamental.  It's filled with ysalimiri blood.  Keeps you Jedi types nice and docile."

"I am no Jedi!" she spat.

"Whatever you say.  Don't worry, it's only temporary.  Once the process is complete, your powers will fade permanently.  Good riddance."

"Process?  What process?" she asked.  Now that she had recovered her bearings, she realized that she felt... off somehow.

"Oh, just some custom strandcasting.  Very trendy with the Hutts and their minions these days.  Perverse and disgusting, if you ask me, but I'll not judge.  I'm being paid well to make sure you arrive in the desired state."

Mara looked down and realized that her uniform was gone, and she was wearing very little at all.  And she was covered in sweat.  Why did Zygerrians keep their ships so warm?

She rubbed her fingers together.  It wasn't just sweat, it felt slimy to the touch.  And her skin... something was wrong, her skin had a definite greenish cast to it.  Had she been poisoned?  No, it was strandcasting, her captor had said.  She wasn't very familiar with it.

"Strandcasting?  Isn't that.. making clones, artificial beings?" she asked.

"That as well.  But there have been a lot of new advancements.  As I said, the Hutts have developed a new liking.  Acquiring concubines from other races has become passe, so they now want playthings that can truly appreciate their... err, lifestyle, I suppose."

Mara began to grasp the truth of what was happening to her, and her fright was only eclipsed by her disgust.

The Zygerrian motioned to something in the corner of her cell, a trough-like object attached to the wall that was filled with some sort of sweet-smelling goo.  

"Anyway, I have other cargo to attend to.  Enjoy your meal."

Mara could normally go for many days without food, but her changing body had different needs.  Half a day was all she could manage before giving in to the hunger that seemed to never be sated.

...

A few weeks later, the Zygerrian returned to inform her that they had arrived at Nal Hutta.

"Time to meet your new owner," he told her.  "You're not quite as transformed as they might prefer, but the rest of your upkeep is in their hands. Farewell."

Mara Jade saw a reflection of her face in his armor, and barely recognized the creature she saw staring back at her.  Of all the fates she could have imagined as a result of her exile, becoming a Hutt was never one of them.