The Third Path update (Patreon)

The Rogue Shadow

The minute he was back from Nar Shaddaa, Starkiller sent a terse message back to Lord Vader, announcing the completion of his mission. Rahm Kota was dead. He got an equally terse acknowledgment back through PROXY.

He knew he’d still be expected to prove his deed in person, as well as supply any details Lord Vader wanted, but that could wait until they met in person—a discussion best not trusted to the Holonet.

“Back to the Executor?” Juno asked and Starkiller gave a clipped nod, walking without another word to his quarters and the fresher.

A frivolous use of the Force opened up his dresser and laid out fresh clothes without being tainted by his filthy hands. He stripped, dropped his old clothes into the laundry chute, and stepped into the shower.

The spray of water hit him, scrubbing at the grime and sweat he’d accumulated in heavy combat. It hadn’t been a long mission, but it still felt like days since he’d bathed last. Not that he bothered with soaping himself up. Starkiller just stood under the nozzle and let the hot water hit him until the fresher was billowing with steam.

His first trial. He’d been tested before. PROXY, of course, and hordes of battle droids. B1s, super battle droids, droidekas—he’d fought so many of them he’d practically restaged the Clone Wars. And he’d killed. Vader had spared some Imperial underlings who normally would’ve received his wrath so that Starkiller could take them, assassinating them in the night. But those were killings. This was real war.

Starkiller looked at his hands. They were blackened with a crusty residue, heat-blasted sweat-salt from blocking blaster bolts with his lightsaber. The near-misses and deflections had added up. Like he was coming out of a haze, Starkiller picked up a bar of soap from the receptacle and scrubbed at the black grime until it disappeared under suds.

It didn’t bother him, what he’d done—killing Kota, killing his militia, even killing the Stormtroopers who had witnessed his participation in the battle. It was all what he’d been trained for. But he hadn’t been expecting the fear in those he fought.

The droids always went full-bore into battle, no hesitation, no weakness, while these people—they cringed and swore and begged for their lives. Inefficient. He’d been trained to know fear was his ally, an added advantage he held over lesser beings, but he hadn’t been prepared for them to be so frightened. It reminded him of something… the value they placed on their lives… their inability to reckon with the idea that they were lost.

He put it out of his mind. There was no useful information to be gleaned from thinking about what had happened and he was clean already. Starkiller rinsed off what remained of the soap he’d washed himself with, then shut off the water. He stepped out into the fog that the hot water had made of his quarters, grabbing up a towel and scrubbing himself with it. He was surprised to walk out of the fresher and see Juno Eclipse inside the main bedroom of his quarters. She held a bottle and her uniform was still not regulation, the tunic open to the singlet undershirt beneath.

Again, Starkiller was taken aback by the tightness and thinness of her undershirt. Or maybe it was just how buxom she was, her cleavage stretching out the material, her breasts big as Gran bright-fruits, with brown halos visible through the white fabric, like targets around her engorged nipples. Starkiller had a sudden vision of his cock sliding into the sensual wealth of that flesh, letting its warmth engulf his manhood, rutting away in the natural sexuality of her body until he went mad.

It hardly mattered to him that the way she wore her uniform skirted regulation. He wasn’t Imperial Navy. He’d killed a dozen Stormtroopers that day, sacrificed to the secrecy of his mission. Even if he were so much as a janitor, the regs would have him lined up in front of a firing squad at best. But as Vader’s apprentice, the rules didn’t apply to him. Vader’s word did—it was far more powerful.

“What are you doing here?” Starkiller demanded, casual even if his inflection was harsh. He wrapped the towel around his waist as he spoke, not bothering overly much with hiding his body.

Juno’s eyes widened as they swept down his naked flesh, then she spoke while he tied off the towel. “It’s a long flight back to the fleet—we’re traveling one of the safer hyperspace lanes—PROXY’s minding the shop—I thought it might be time for some morale boosting.”

“So you let yourself into my quarters?”

“The door was open. I wondered if you were alright.”

Starkiller grunted in acknowledgment. He might’ve left the door open. He was used to it being only him and PROXY. Still, he usually would’ve closed the door, if only to let PROXY know he wasn’t in the mood for games—he needed his privacy.

It raised an interesting question. Did he need his privacy now? Was there some subconscious urge at work in forgetting to secure his quarters?

Starkiller doubted it. He had too much control for that. But he’d decompressed enough in the shower and he saw no need to taint his victory today with further training. He’d hear Juno out.

“Morale boosting—what’d you have in mind?”

Juno held out the bottle proudly. “Corellian ale. Nothing breaks the ice better.”

Starkiller snorted. “I don’t need the ice broken.”

Juno imitated his dismissive noise. “I don’t even know your name,” she retorted.

“Starkiller,” he told her after some thought. It was all he needed, a military designation Vader used when necessary to refer to him.

Names were for other people. He knew who he was.

“Starkiller?” Juno repeated. “Sounds more like the name of some military base.”

“It’s the only thing I’ve ever been called. Were you this free-spirited in your former assignments?”

Juno shrugged away his insinuation. “Not really. But since you’ve run through seven pilots before me, I figure there’s not much point in holding my tongue. People seem to have a short life expectancy around you.”

He didn’t know why he felt compelled to contradict her. “Lord Vader’s still around.”

Juno walked around him. Starkiller was surprised by the gesture—it felt like he was being dismissed—and he was even more shocked to see Juno going to the kitchenette.

“And the two of you are close?” She knew her way around, this room’s design no doubt being one repeated across thousands of Imperial ships, and so she helped herself to the cupboard, taking out two glasses.

“What are you doing?” Starkiller demanded, his voice raising.

“Corellian ale. Pardon me for saying, but Lord Vader doesn’t seem the type who’s close to anyone.”

“It’s not your concern. And I said I don’t want any.”

“You don’t have to have any,” Juno retorted, pouring one of the glasses full.

“You set out two glasses.”

“I didn’t want you to feel left out.”

Starkiller pressed his lips together hard enough to crush something between them. “Is this how you boost morale?”

“For starters.” She moved the bottle’s neck to the second, empty glass. “Is that a yes?”

Starkiller reached out with the Force, tipping the bottle without her consent, then holding it in place when she jerked her hands off it, so that it floated in the air, filling his glass full. He straightened the bottle and, with barely a gesture, set it down on the table with the glasses.

“That’s a neat trick,” Juno gasped, her surprise finally putting her off her game.

“Something I learned from my master,” he said simply.

“Vader? I’d heard he was a sorcerer… but I also heard the Jedi were charlatans.”

“I’m no Jedi,” Starkiller said, seating himself and picking up the second glass. He examined the umber liquid inside.

“But Rahm Kota was?” Juno asked, sitting down beside him.

Starkiller sipped the liquor. It was bitter, but he’d survived off worse things. “What’s your point?”

“I suppose I’m just trying to make sense of it. He’s the closest I’ve ever come to meeting a Jedi. Well, and you, I suppose. If the Force really is… with you.”

“You’re not drinking,” Starkiller observed. “Is your morale boosted already?”

Juno picked up her glass and knocked back a good quantity of what she’d poured for herself, leaving only a thin sliver at the bottom of the glass. Starkiller’s eyebrows shot up, impressed.

From her file, she’d come up on Corulag, a Core World. Probably never known hunger or want. He was surprised she had the stomach for the strong stuff.

She spoke again as Starkiller tried to guzzle down an equal amount. “It’s never made much sense to me, what they tell us of the Jedi. That they were just a bunch of frauds and magicians, but they were frontline fighters in the Clone Wars…”

“Whatever they were, they turned on the Republic. Warmongers who tried to seize power from Emperor Palpatine.”

“And yet,” Juno needled him, “Palpatine was Chancellor back then. Now he’s Emperor.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Nothing.” Juno picked up the bottle and poured for them again. “I’m just curious where the truth lies.”

“Ironic.”

“What is?”

“For such an honest sort, you came here with ulterior motives.” Starkiller stood up, towering over her. “Even if this isn’t your standard chain of command, I find it hard to believe any Imperial officer would bring a bottle of whiskey to discuss her misgivings with the official history. Maybe an Outer Rim reject, but not one good enough to be on the Black Eight.”

“Perhaps I just wanted to talk to someone other than your kill-happy droid.”

Starkiller moved toward her. “You’re being evasive. I can sense you’re hiding something.”

“Not hiding. Just being circumspect. Not all of us can back up our words with a lightsaber.” Starkiller was standing directly in front of Juno, his knees almost touching hers. “If I don’t have long to live, I’d like more out of what time I have left than just sharing a drink.”

“Oh?”

Juno could see the towel around Starkiller’s waist bulge, level with her eyes, making it impossible not to stare at. “I’m attracted to you. You’re evidently attracted to me. So long as we both enjoy ourselves, I don’t see anything wrong with taking advantage of that.”

Starkiller looked both confused and like he was trying to hide it, project confidence. His competence typically bordered on arrogance, but now he seemed on par with a frightened child. Juno could see he wouldn’t ask for her to explain, even if he needed her to.

“How about I go first? And later, you can return the favor. I’ll show you the kinds of things we can do…” She reached out a tentative hand and lightly brushed her fingertips through the towel, feeling his stirring erection underneath.

Starkiller stepped closer—Juno had to spread her knees to let him come up to her. His groin was now inches away from her face.

“Show me,” he said, his inflection the usual demand, only he whispered now instead of grunting.

Juno petted his cock through the towel again, smiling when she saw it rise up, folds of the fluffy fabric hanging off its length. “I’ve been thinking you could use one of these since we first met…”

She tugged out the knot in the towel, letting it drop to expose his huge, half-hard cock. She closed her fist around its girth and tenderly kissed the swollen knob. It jerked in her hand, surging to its full length, as hard as steel and hot as hell.

Juno breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of his erect cock—the muskiness of his arousal under the clean, crisp smell of the soap and shower water. She covered his cockhead with loving kisses, wondering how it would smell after it had been inside her.

She ran the tip of her tongue around his glans, licking the purple bulb of his erection. When all of it was covered with a glistening layer of saliva, Juno bent forward, ruby lips opening, and took the tip of his cock into her mouth.

“Mmmmm,” she moaned, tightening her lips around his collar, sucking the bulging helmet inside her mouth.

While she sucked, Juno worked her hand up and down on his shaft, marveling at how hard it was while the skin of his erection was so soft. The contradiction never failed to appeal to her, particularly with someone as hard-edged as Starkiller. With her other hand, she reached between his thighs and squeezed his balls. They were soft too, but seething with cum, engorged with it. She loved the way they filled her hand.

“Fuuck, Eclipse!” Starkiller moaned, the words wrenched out of him, coming right from the core of his body.

Juno was delighted to get the utterance out of him. She couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t half-believe she was doing this, but there was no doubt of the taste that filled her mouth, wracked her senses.

She felt her own excitement building, an electric tension down between her taut thighs. She knew as good as what she was doing felt to Starkiller, it’d feel just as good on her burning-blood clit, already tingling at the thought. And she could feel her lust seeping from the lips of her cunt, dampening her panties.

She sucked Starkiller feverishly—slow, luscious movements of her body back and forth, all of her in motion as she pumped his cock, like a snake weaving its body in the air. She held his cock and balls in her fists, squeezing him, stroking him while she sucked.

Her cheeks went hollow with each demanding suckle. The tight red ring of her lips followed the veiny length of his shaft as far as she could take it. She kept thrusting both head and body forward to his groin as if trying to prostrate herself, as though sucking his cock was a form of primitive worship.

She felt as though she were giving into him, her own sense of identity dwindling while his pleasure became more and more important. It got so she felt willing—even eager—to do anything Starkiller asked of her.

“Eclipse!” Starkiller hissed. “Take more of it! Go deeper!”

Juno tipped her head back to look up at him, still mouthing his prick. She knew the urge taking hold of him from the way he jiggled his hips. He didn’t just want a blowjob, he wanted to fuck her mouth. But Juno wanted to beat him to it—wanted to fuck his cock with her mouth.

Concentrating, relaxing, Juno bent forward at the waist, pressing herself to Starkiller’s muscular legs and reaching around him to cup his firm ass. With a deep breath, she worked herself down the girthy length of his shaft, slowly, taking him in inch by inch.

The big knob topping his erection lodged stubbornly at the back of her throat, seeming too big for her to swallow, but she kept gulping and gulping until it rolled down her throat. She felt it plunge in, expanding her gullet, and a shudder of ecstasy twitched inside her as she felt him throbbing from the depths of her throat to where her lips were wrapped around his shaft.

“Holy kriff!” Starkiller cried, staring down in amazement at how his prick had disappeared into Juno’s mouth.

She barely heard him. Eyes tightly shut, she resisted her gag reflex, instead calling on her experience to hold herself somewhere between swallowing forcefully and relaxing her throat to take him deeper. She sputtered, gargling on his penetration of her throat, but kept feeling new inches inside her lush, full-lipped mouth. She didn’t let up until the ring of her lips was pressed up to the very base of his enormous erection.

Starkiller took a noisy breath. “Eclipse…”

The only reply Juno could make was “GAHK! GAHK! GAHK!”

Feeling his eyes on her every move, her every little expression of lust even as she was throttled by the sizable erection she’d gulped down, Juno eased herself back. She released his red-hot cock as slowly as she’d accepted it into her throat. Her lips slid back down his shaft until his big knob vacated her throat, allowing Juno to gulp in huge breaths even with his cock still in her mouth.

Even in her relief, Juno held the engorged cockhead in her mouth and gratefully swirled her tongue at its tip, licking up the succulent drops of precum that it was seething with. The pungent taste made her yearn for all of his load, but not down her throat where she’d barely be able to feel it. She wanted it in her mouth, on her face, all over her and inside her, the fact that she’d satisfied him literally soaking into her flesh and her senses for long minutes on end.

“Mmmmm,” she moaned, casting her eyes up to Starkiller’s face, knowing he was the only one who could satisfy her new obsession.

“Do it again,” he ordered her, his voice in a rush, needing as much as commanding.

Starkiller shook with tension, every muscle taut, his fists tightly balled at his sides. Juno could almost feel the intensity of the enormous orgasm building inside him. She breathed deeply, preparing herself to throat him a second time.

She didn’t get the chance. As soon as her lips slid over his cockhead, Starkiller shuddered and grunted and came. Juno felt the burst of seed flood into her mouth, then the next thing she knew, Starkiller had her head grasped with both hands. He rammed her down on his thrusting cock, forcing it into her mouth.

“Ahhh SHIT!” he gasped, nearly losing his balance as he rutted into Juno’s throat.

Juno didn’t mind his brutality, even though he’d almost broken her nose against his pelvis. It told her that she’d succeeded, replacing all Starkiller’s tightly wound control with uncontained ecstasy.

Starkiller began to relax, his body seeming to unspool as he let go of both his lust and the reserve he’d had before. “Eclipse, that was… acceptable…” he gasped.

The last shot of his cum trickled from him, to be sucked away by Juno with a mewling groan of enjoyment. Easing his rapidly softening cock from her mouth, she rubbed its head against her lips and cheeks, gazing up at Starkiller with an ecstatic smile.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Her lips brushed his cockhead and quirked with even more amusement when she felt a small tingle of arousal, like a static charge, already trying to revive his erection. “Just remember, you owe me one.”

Starkiller nodded weakly. Stepping back from between her legs, he fumbled to pick up his towel and wipe down his dirty cock.

Juno watched sadly as his magnificent cock disappeared from view. The taste of his cum was still strong in her mouth. She wanted more, usually would’ve insisted on it, but sensed now that Starkiller needed time to process what had happened. He’d already wiped out a coterie of the Empire’s enemies today—it was a lot to ask him to give her an orgasm as well.

She left him slumped in his chair, towel on his lap, soon succumbing to his tiredness, while she left to check on the cockpit. She always got wiry when she was in a vehicle at flight and she went too long without being at the controls herself.

Perhaps later… she didn’t know about absence making the heart grow fonder, but she felt sure it might give Starkiller all kinds of ideas about what he’d like to do to her.