(filler chapter, feel free to skip)
~RETURNING TO CORUSCANT~
I should've reported to the Council.
I should've gone to medical and let them check my regenerating hand.
I should've received whatever orders the Jedi had for me now that the entire galaxy was officially at war.
There were a lot of things I should've done.
Instead, the moment I returned to Coruscant—
I booked it toward one of the entertainment districts.
Priorities. Clothes.
My sudden growth had completely destroyed my wardrobe.
Everything I owned had been designed for a four-foot-five Irken.
After Geonosis I'd ended up borrowing some of Anakin's clothes, which was humiliating enough without the bastard repeatedly reminding me that his clothes fit.
Jango Fett's armor was safely stored in my inventory too, but walking through Coruscant dressed like the bounty hunter seemed...
Poorly thought out.
Thankfully, credits weren't a problem.
Years of side businesses, trading, and my general habit of hoarding money meant I could afford something better than decent.
I entered one of the nicer clothing stores. Nothing ridiculously expensive.
I immediately became overwhelmed. Shirts. Jackets. Pants. Different fabrics. Different styles.
I'd spent most of my life wearing Jedi robes or Irken military clothing, only occasionally putting on lowly street garb when Anakin and I would be out and about.
I was holding two jackets up against myself when someone approached.
"Can I help you with anything, sir?"
A Twi'lek woman stood behind me.
Near-cyan skin.
Ocean-blue eyes.
Her lekku rested neatly behind her shoulders, and she wore what I assumed was the store uniform: a light-blue blouse with a fitted black skirt. She smiled. Professional. Very pretty.
"Yes, actually."
I lowered the jackets.
"I'm going down to the Lower Levels. Probably hitting a club. I need something that blends in but still looks good."
Her expression changed almost immediately.
The practiced customer-service smile became something considerably more enthusiastic.
"I understand." She looked me over. REALLY LOOKED.
Up. Down. Back up.
Either this woman really loved her job...
Or—
I straightened slightly.
There was always a chance.
I mean, why not?
Irkens didn't exist here.
As far as anyone on Coruscant knew, I was some exotic species nobody had ever seen before.
Smooth green skin. No blemishes. Ruby-red eyes.
Antennae.
And now that the Geonosian Queen had forcibly upgraded me from malnourished green noodle to an actual adult body...
I wasn't exactly terrible-looking. Even Irken eyes could be gorgeous.
I'd caught myself staring at some of the rarer colors before.
Amethyst. Sapphire. Emerald.
The Twi'lek stepped closer.
"Clubwear, but not enough to stand out."
"Exactly."
"And something flattering."
"Yes."
Another quick glance down.
"That shouldn't be difficult."
OH?
Before I could decide whether I'd imagined that tone, both her hands landed on my shoulders.
"This way."
She physically turned me around and started steering me toward the changing rooms. I think I just lost some of my rights.
"Please wait here, sir. I'll find some things for you."
"Sure."
She disappeared. I stared after her.
A few minutes later she returned carrying enough clothing to imply she'd raided the store.
She draped several sets over one arm.
"We should try this one first." She shoved an outfit into my arms.
I looked down at it. Then at her.
...
We?
When the hell did this become a team effort?
She smiled expectantly.
I waited.
She continued standing there.
...
Was she expecting me to change right here?
After several seconds of neither of us moving, I slowly reached for the changing-room door.
Her smile widened slightly.
Yeah. I stepped inside and closed it before staring at myself in the mirror.
I'd barely had time since Geonosis to properly look at my new body.
Five-foot-eight.
I looked nothing like the little Irken I'd spent the last decade staring at. Broader shoulders. Actual muscle definition. Longer legs.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
I took off my clothes and started changing.
The first outfit actually fit perfectly.
Dark pants.
A fitted shirt.
Light jacket.
Simple.
I was turning toward the mirror when—
KNOCK KNOCK.
I stopped.
"Yes?"
Her voice came through the door.
"Sir, are you finished undressing?"
What?
Then, without missing a beat—
"Please let me see."
I stared at the door.
Then at myself.
Then back at the door.
I opened the changing-room door.
And immediately stopped.
The Twi'lek clerk was still there but now she had backup.
A Zygerrian woman stood beside her in the exact same uniform.
For half a second, her face nearly gave me a heart attack.
Not because she was ugly.
The exact opposite.
Zygerrians just had... predatory features.
Angular face. Soft fur across her cheeks and jaw. Large feline ears rising through a thick fall of hair. Sharp eyes. Sharp teeth. Sharp claws.
And she was gorgeous.
...
Whoever owned this store had a very specific hiring standard.
The Twi'lek looked me over.
Then smiled.
"I wanted to start simple, but this is surprisingly good."
Before I could respond, she stepped forward.
Both hands went straight to my jacket.
"Tighter here..."
She tugged at the fabric.
Pulled the shoulder seam.
Smoothed the front of the shirt.
Then stepped around me.
The Zygerrian followed her, studying the outfit.
"Length is good."
"Mhm."
"Waist?"
The Twi'lek tugged the shirt down.
"Good."
The Twi'lek suddenly snapped her fingers.
"This one next!"
Another outfit landed in my arms.
I looked down then back up.
"Wait."
The changing-room door shut in my face.
...
I stared at it.
Oh no.
I was starting to regret coming into this store.
I changed and opened the door.
Immediately—
"No."
The Zygerrian shook her head.
The Twi'lek tilted hers.
"Not bad."
I looked down at myself.
"It feels fine."
They both looked at me.
Then at each other.
Apparently my opinion was not relevant.
The Twi'lek disappeared.
Returned.
Another outfit.
"This one."
I caught it.
"Actually, I liked the first one."
"Try this one."
"I don't think—"
The Zygerrian slowly pointed toward the changing room.
...
Fine.
Twenty minutes later...
I had tried on six outfits.
...
I had lost control of the situation.
By outfit eight, I made my first escape attempt.
I stepped out wearing dark pants, a fitted shirt, and a lightweight jacket.
Looked good. Perfect.
"You know what?"
I looked toward them.
"I actually like this one. This'll do."
The Twi'lek blinked. The Zygerrian stared.
I began walking toward the registers.
Freedom.
TUG.
I stopped.
A clawed hand was gripping my shoulder.
I slowly looked back.
The Zygerrian smiled.
"Sir." Her claws were resting through the fabric.
"We still have much more to offer."
The Twi'lek nodded enthusiastically.
"And there are special discounts on sets you haven't tried yet!"
I looked between them.
I tried keeping my voice polite.
"I appreciate that, but I think I'll be fin—"
The claws pressed down.
I felt the tips through the jacket.
...
Why was she so fucking strong?
I looked at the hand.
Then at her.
She smiled wider.
"One more."
The Twi'lek had already disappeared into the store.
The Zygerrian's ears twitched.
"This one is different."
What kind of logic was that?
The Twi'lek returned.
Holding three outfits.
I stared.
"That's not one."
---
Forty-five minutes. I had changed so many times I stopped bothering to fully close the door.
Not because I wanted them watching.
Because every time I shut it completely—
KNOCK KNOCK.
"How does it fit?"
KNOCK KNOCK.
"Turn around."
KNOCK KNOCK.
"Try the jacket."
Apparently I had terrible taste.
I was learning things about myself today. This was becoming the most exhausting part of my day.
By the time they finally released me, I had purchased—
Three shirts.
Two jackets.
Four pairs of pants.
One formal outfit.
Two sets of club clothes.
A pair of boots.
A belt.
And somehow...
A scarf.
I don't remember agreeing to the scarf.
The Zygerrian handed me the bags.
I immediately stored them.
Both clerks stared as the bags vanished.
The Twi'lek blinked.
"That's useful."
The Zygerrian looked at the outfit I was currently wearing.
Dark fitted pants. Black boots. A deep red shirt. Light jacket.
Simple.
"Thank you."
The Twi'lek smiled brightly.
"Come back anytime."
I stared at her.
I walked toward the exit.
Finally.
---
By the time I left the store, Coruscant was already sliding toward evening.
Perfect. Good time for clubbing.
Even better—
My hand was almost back.
The fingers had regrown to about half their normal length, which looked deeply unsettling, but progress was progress.
I headed straight for the Lower Levels. Same club.
And the moment I stepped inside, I started searching.
Nothing. No Rodian. No familiar green face. No sign of her.
It was still early.
The last time I'd seen her, it had been well past midnight.
So I wasn't worried. Not really.
I found an open table near the podracing screens and planted myself there.
If I had time to kill...
Might as well enjoy myself.
I was in a fantastic mood.
New clothes. New body. New hand almost finished.
What the hell.
Let's gamble.
I walked over to one of the betting terminals along the wall and dropped two hundred credits on a speeder. Might as well get some Poison Resistance progress while I was here.
I ordered a drink.
And another.
And another.
Every now and then, someone would come over.
Women from a few different species.
Some alone.
Some with friends.
They'd strike up conversation.
Ask what I was drinking.
Ask what species I was.
Ask if I was here with anyone.
The intentions were not subtle.
At all.
They were trying to fuck me.
I'M SORRY, BUT MY HEART BELONGS TO ANOTHER!
"I'm actually waiting for someone."
I said it more than once that night.
And strangely enough...
I liked saying it.
Sure, some of these women were gorgeous.
Some arguably more attractive than the Rodian I was waiting for.
Didn't matter.
She had wanted me before any of this.
Before the growth spurt.
Before the better clothes.
Before I had a body that actually looked adult.
Back when I was a tiny green alien with no dick.
That counted for something.
She'd wanted me at my absolute worst.
I wasn't about to let these harlots lead me astray.
No sir.
I had principles.
Hours passed.
I drank.
Watched podracing.
Lost credits.
Talked to strangers.
Turned down more women.
Still no Rodian.
I checked the entrance more often as the night dragged on.
Midnight passed.
Then later.
Still nothing.
Okay.
Now I was getting a little worried.
Not panicked.
I could always come back another night.
Coruscant wasn't going anywhere.
Neither was the club.
Still...
I'd been riding such a ridiculous emotional high all day that ending the night without finding her would suck.
A few more hours crawled past.
DING. Skill Progression: Poison Resistance(Lv 4 →5).
Nice. Second time tonight.
I was also thoroughly drunk now. Less nice.
I'd lost several more bets. Even less nice.
And by this point I'd turned down enough women that I was beginning to wonder if the universe was testing me personally.
Sunrise wasn't far off.
I sat slouched at the table staring at the podracing screen.
"Come on..."
My speeder dropped behind another racer.
"Come on..."
Final turn.
...
Lost.
Again.
Something inside me snapped.
I crushed the glass in my newly regrown hand.
CRACK.
I stared at the shards.
...
Well.
At least the hand worked.
I stood.
Badly.
Enough.
I was done.
Time to go back to the Temple before I wasted any more credits or embarrassed myself further.
I started toward the exit.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Very intentionally walking like someone who absolutely wasn't drunk.
Then—
I felt her.
My head turned.
Through the club entrance.
And there she was.
Surrounded by several women who were almost definitely her friends.
Everything in me sobered up at once.
Well. Not actually.
She looked exactly like I remembered.
Green skin.
That smile.
That face I'd been thinking about for the last few days like an idiot.
There.
Finally.
I moved before I could talk myself out of it.
"Excuse me, miss!"
I stepped into their path.
The group stopped.
The Rodian looked mildly startled.
One of her friends leaned toward another.
"Barely through the door..."
They both giggled.
I ignored them.
The Rodian looked at me.
"Yes...?"
...
Nothing.
No recognition.
Right.
Of course.
Last time she saw me I had been over a foot shorter.
I tried to get the words out without sounding completely drunk.
"I'm the guy from a few days ago."
She stared at me.
Then squinted.
Then looked closer.
Recognition hit.
Her eyes widened.
"Really?!"
She looked me up and down.
"You're so tall now!"
She actually raised a hand near the top of my head.
We were roughly the same height now.
I smiled.
Good.
Great.
Excellent.
Straight to business.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
For a second...
Nothing.
Then I felt it.
A tiny shift.
Discomfort.
Awkwardness.
Her smile became strained.
...
Oh no.
"I'm sorry..."
My stomach dropped.
She hesitated.
Then—
"I only like small guys."
...
...
...
CRUSHED.
I stood there.
Completely still.
My first love.
Gone.
Destroyed.
Murdered in front of me.
By height preference.
I had gotten exactly what I'd wanted.
A bigger body.
Better proportions.
Everything.
And somehow it had made me less attractive to her.
My chest tightened.
A familiar, ugly part of my mind immediately surged forward.
This is why Irkens conquer planets.
We don't mix with aliens.
Then another voice joined it.
Calm.
Old.
Jedi.
No attachments.
Oh.
So now that philosophy wanted to make sense.
Fantastic timing.
I swallowed.
"Oh."
That was all I managed.
Then—
"Sorry."
I stepped aside.
Started moving toward the exit.
She looked genuinely guilty now.
"Sorry..."
One of her friends giggled behind her.
"I'll take you."
I ignored that completely.
Didn't even turn around.
My heart was being ripped apart in real time.
This was not the moment for rebounds.
I kept walking.
Out the door.
Back toward the Temple.