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Girls' Night Out	By : RyuaAlba Category: +G through L > Knights of the Old Republic Views: 17275 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Knights of the Old Republic, or any of the characters therin. I make no money off of this fic.

Chapter List
- 1-Girls' Night Out
- 1
(Author's Note: Written with my Writer's Block Randomizer. Prompts were Female Revan, Mission, Corruption, and Hand Job.)

So, she was a Dark Lord. It was a bit of a shocker… but from the moment Malak said it, she knew he was telling the truth. It felt right, and it sure did explain a lot. It hadn’t been a big surprise how most of her crew had acted either. Carth had been mistrustful and angry… nothing new there. Zaalbar had honored his Lifedebt and was sworn to follow her anyway, and Mission would follow him. T7, cheerful, patient little droid that he was, was unperturbed.
Bastilla would need to be dealt with, however. The ability to keep something of that magnitude hidden for as long as she had was an impressive achievement… she’d just have to convince the young Jedi it was a terrible idea to do it to her.
The hero worship she’d garnered from Juhani had been unexpected though, and so was Jolee’s declaration he’d known all along. HK had been the biggest surprise, but possibly the most welcome one. A personally built, high powered assassin droid literally hardwired for absolute faithfulness? He was even more useful than he had been.
Mmm, even the Force felt better with the revelation. The Jedi teachings had been familiar, and now she knew why… but they had chafed at the same time, imposing restrictions she couldn’t quite figure out why she was resentful of. Now she knew. Having tasted the full spectrum of the Force, being limited to the restrictive view of the Jedi felt wrong, even when she couldn’t remember what she was missing.
It was a pity that she had a ship so full of Jedi, making it nearly impossible to test her newfound abilities. Jolee might say he was neutral, but she knew that if he thought she was going full Sith again, he wouldn’t hesitate to try and take her out. And while she could manage any one of her companions, she’d have trouble if all her do-gooders decided she was going against their plans.
Perhaps it was time to get off the ship for a while.
-
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Carth asked, as Revan stepped down the boarding ramp. Revan. She liked the sound of the name, it suited her more than the one the Jedi had saddled her with.
“Yes, Carth. I’m sure,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve only asked that six times since we entered the system. I just want a little downtime, I’ve been through a lot the last couple of weeks, and I need to relax. Besides. Mission and I can take care of ourselves, and nothing will get through HK.”
“Eager assurance: I look forward to the opportunity to terminate some hostiles.”
“Yeah, relax, Gramps,” Mission said with a bit of a giggle. “We’re just gonna go have some girl time.” The slender Twi’lek did one last check for her hidden vibroblades, tightened the strap holding Zaalbar’s bowcaster to her back.
“If it were girl time, why aren’t you bringing Juhani and Bastilla?” he asked with a frown, folding his arms.
“Because neither of us thinks gambling is fun,” Bastilla said. “When you can feel the Force but are morally obligated to not use the knowledge to your advantage, it’s not a fun game.” Hmm, she seemed to be trying to hint something there…
Revan grinned. “Right. You have fun with the ship, then. We’ll be back sometime tomorrow, and I’m sure Bastilla’s keen Force Bond senses will alert you if anything goes wrong.” Before anyone else could protest, she grabbed Mission’s elbow and pulled the willing girl down the ramp with her, HK following far more silently than a 250 pound droid should be able to move.
-
“Did you see Bastie’s face?” Mission giggled. “That glare might have been intimidating on someone about fifty years older…”
Revan laughed back, striding down the dark, scummy walkways of Nar Shaada as if they were well lit boulevards on Coruscant. “She’s very fond of the idea that she’s wiser than all of us.”
“So what are we gonna do?” she asked eagerly, lekku quivering slightly with anticipation. “It’s been ages since I had a night out.”
“Ohh, poor girl. I don’t think there was anywhere on Taris that qualified as a night out,” Revan teased. “Nah, tonight, we’ll go eat somewhere nice, play some pazaak, do some dancing, have some serious fun.”
“So that’s why the change in outfit,” Mission commented, eyeing the older woman striding beside her. Abandoning the soft, dark Jedi Robes she’d been wearing since Dantooine, Revan had gone back to her Smuggler standbys, tight leather pants, shirt cut low enough to be blatantly distracting, a leather jacket and a blaster on her hip to distract from the twin lightsabers inside her jacket. “Nobody much likes to gamble with Jedi at the table.”
“You got it,” she said, grinning. “Let’s make some credits first, shall we?”
-
There was nothing quite like winning a nice healthy stack of credits to start a night off right, she reflected. Mission, despite not having any Force Sensitivity, was an excellent player, and very good at drawing in marks with her youthful, wide-eyed innocent looks. She also had no problems with… improving the odds one way or another. It might be worth cementing the bond with the girl… she wasn’t the most powerful of the group, but she had potential, flexibility, and a willingness to disregard rules that was refreshing. Perhaps it was just as well the other two women hadn’t wanted to come along.
Being Force Sensitive on top of having good people skills made it easy to feel when a room was starting to go from infatuated with the pretty girls to annoyed at how much money they were winning. “Come on, Mission.” She said, leaning over and murmuring in her ear. “Let’s take a break and go get some food, hmm?”
A twitch of her nearest lekku was affirmative enough, and they both wrapped up the hands they were working on, withdrawing from the game with plenty of smiles and flirting to keep the mood happy instead of resentful. “Man, you’re good at that,” Mission said a few moments later on their way out of the Pazaak bar to find a restaurant. “Everyone stayed so friendly the whole time, even when they were losing… was that all you… you know… nudging them?”
She grinned. “That’s an astute question. Having an enthusiastic Hunter-Killer droid watching the proceedings helps to keep emotions from getting aggressive. And no, most of it was just wearing low cut shirts, body language, tone of voice, that sort of thing. You’ve got some good potential in that direction yourself, you know.”
“Me? Nah… I’m just some skinny street rat, not the kind of girl that can pull jobs like that.”
“Ah, you’re selling yourself too short,” she said, steering her into a restaurant with some promising aromas and strains of music. “Not that looking hungry and innocent doesn’t have its uses, but you shouldn’t limit yourself to just one trick.”
It was a good restaurant for Nar Shaada, which meant the tables and chairs were in good repair and relatively clean. The kitchen definitely smelled good, and the band starting up over in the corner promised good dancing music. Revan steered Mission into one of the booths in a corner. “Sometimes it’s good to be confident and proud. It attracts and discourages a completely different range of people.”
“I dunno…” Mission said, inputting her selection into the order droid. “You have a good point, I’m just not sure I’m capable of it.”
“You just have to stop thinking of yourself as a teenager, and more of an adult,” Revan said, adding a couple beakers of the local special ale to their food orders. Nobody on this planet asked for ID, as long as the credits were good. “You’re travelling the galaxy, taking on tasks and enemies that most adults couldn’t face, alongside some of the best warriors in the galaxy. You’re not the same little kid we found on Taris anymore.”
“You really think I’m doing alright?” Mission asked, shifting slightly, looking up at her with earnest, faintly worried eyes. “I know I’m a lot younger than everyone else, but I really am trying!”
Revan smiled. “You’re doing fine, Mission,” she said, reaching across the table and grabbing her hand. “You’re doing very well indeed.”
“Agreement: Your skillset is unique among the group, Mission,” HK input, standing guard behind Revan’s chair. “As meatbags go, I find you less inferior than most.”
“Well… thanks,” she said, an odd, half-smile quirking at her lips. “From you, I guess that’s pretty high praise.”
“So have a drink, you’ve earned it,” Revan said, pushing one of the freshly delivered tankards towards her. Mission grinned, and raised her mug in a toast.
The meal went well, and Revan made sure to keep Mission’s drink refilled, until her Lekku were loose on her shoulders and her cheeks were flushed. She kept the conversation constant, letting Mission talk as much as she wanted, praising her ideas, encouraging her to suggest her thoughts. HK, displaying the intuitive knowledge he’d always shown, was either quiet or helpful, occasionally interjecting a comment that supported something Mission had said, or bringing up something she’d done that had been particularly helpful.
When the band struck up a lively tune Mission clearly liked, Revan paid the serving droid and drew her from her seat, onto the smallish dance floor. In a place where you made money by packing in dining customers, most of the space was taken up by tables, but the establishment had kept at least a smallish square in front of the band open, and a half dozen patrons were taking advantage of it.
Years of living as a street rat had taught Mission to be careful and as unfeminine as she could be, but Revan’s constant gentle praise through the evening, combined with the confidence she’d been growing since joining the crew and the several mugs of ale, made her relax. Her natural Twi’lek grace was very much apparent, and she was already lithe, fit, and acrobatic. The conversation died down, of course, but Revan’s occasional comments turned now towards the way Mission looked, rather than her abilities. “You know, you’re really looking great tonight, Mission,” Revan said in her ear, brushing close against her as they danced.
“Thanks!” she said, her lekku curling slightly with pleasure at the compliment. Ah, yes, she was finally past the point of wanting to always be in the safe background, starting to desire being noticed. Well, she’d just have to notice her, then.
An occasional nudge in the Force kept any of the increasingly interested male patrons from coming up and bothering them. The last thing Revan wanted was any interruptions. She was looking forward to her developing plans more and more as the evening wore on. She took every opportunity to brush up against Mission, never in quite an overtly sexual way, just enough to encourage closeness between them.
Eventually, the band called the end of their set, and Revan led an extremely happy, slightly drunk Mission back to a shadowy table in the corner. “So, getting tired yet?” Revan asked, reaching with the Force to just lightly brush her emotions, wiping away any trace of exhaustion. She didn’t want Mission wanting to go back to the Ebon Hawk just yet.
“Mm, no way!” Mission said, bouncing a little in her seat. “Where should we go next, huh?”
“Well, this place is winding down for the evening, but this is Nar Shaada. There’s always somewhere fun open.” Revan said, pulling her to her feet and slipping an arm around her waist. “Let’s go find somewhere else.”
If Mission hadn’t been so relaxed, Revan knew she’d never have been able to convince her to go to their next stop. It helped that it wasn’t a pure strip club, it was a bar with a stage for dancers. A couple of professionals were always on stage, but audience members could go up if they wanted.
“Me, dance?” Mission scoffed. “Nah. I’ve spent too much time developing the wrong skillset to make it as a dancer. Plus, I’d rather have sex because I want to, not because I’m paid to,” she said in answer to Revan’s question, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t get me wrong, it was fun dancing with you, before, but I’m not stage material.”
“Oh, I dunno, I wouldn’t mind watching,” Revan chuckled, picking up a pair of drinks from a passing scantily clad Zabrak server.
Mission took her drink from Revan with a wicked grin. “Now, you, on the other hand, have the charisma and curves to pull it off.”
“Me?” Revan laughed. “I’m too old and battle scarred to dance professionally.”
“No you’re not!” Mission protested. “You don’t look anywhere near your age. Must be a Force thing. And… I’ve seen you in the sonic shower. The only scars you have are kinda hot.”
Revan felt her mouth fall open. HK picked the moment to jump in with, “Observation: It seems to me as if the Twi’lek wants to see you dance, Master. It would be a shame to not reward such stealth ability, would it not?”
Well, to sneak up on her while she was getting clean did take a tremendous amount of effort. And it worked far in her favor that Mission had wanted to look in the first place. She closed her mouth, turned it into a grin. “Well, in that case, how could I refuse?” She knocked back the rest of her drink, using the Force to ignore most of the alcoholic effects, and pulled her sabers out from the inside of her jacket, pressing them into Mission’s lap.
Grabbing the edge of the stage, she swung herself gracefully up, just as the music changed, a heavy, primitive, throbbing kind of a beat taking over. She grinned and started to roll her hips to the music. She didn’t look directly at Mission at first, didn’t look for long at anything, letting her eyes drift closed, head tilting back as she let the music wash over her, through her, feeling the amorous emotions of the crowd and letting the mood colour her expression.
Years of lightsaber duelling had made her body flexible and strong, and even as a Jedi, she’d retained enough vanity to ensure she looked good while doing it. Moving on stage, her predatory fighting instincts bled through into her dancing, making her look powerful, dominant. She could sense Mission down below, at least mildly enjoying herself. That wasn’t nearly good enough. Time to turn up the heat.
Revan’s eyes snapped open, fixing on Mission as her hands slid up her body, fingers teasing gently over her breasts, grabbing the open edges of her jacket and slowly sliding it off. She felt the Twi’lek’s attention focus, felt her rising interest, tinged with surprise. Apparently, she hadn’t been expecting a striptease to be part of the show.
Licking her lips slightly, she slowly squirmed out of her jacket, letting it slide down her arms, flicking it nonchalantly to the side. Her arms were left bare, showing the supple strength gained from a lifetime of training. She swung her hips and legs wide, twisting her body, letting the movement pull her shirt loose from her pants. Revan let her fingers trail up her side, debating what would go next, teasing along the hem of her shirt. The jump in Mission’s heartbeat decided her, and she slowly pulled the shirt up, exposing her skin ever so slowly. There was a thin white scar running down across her belly, disappearing onto one hip, the souvenir of a Jedi who got in a lucky strike before she’d cut him down, years and years ago.
The shirt came off over her head, dishevelling her long, glossy black hair, and she flicked it carelessly into the crowd. The moment it was over her head, she locked eyes with Mission again. She could feel the girl’s desire, and she smiled lazily, letting the feel of it wash over her. Good. The more Mission wanted her, the easier it would be to take her. She let her hands play over her body, over her well toned stomach, up over the simple, well fitting black bra, squeezing gently. She smiled at the pulse of lust that ran through the room at the action.
Leaning back against one of the poles studded around the stage, she arched her back, fingertips running down her body, down to her hips. They only lingered for a moment before she brought them back up again, one reaching up above her head to grasp onto the pole, the other grabbing her boot and sliding it off, elongating her leg in a stretch as she did so.
Another toss landed it where her jacket was still piled at the edge of the stage, and she turned her back to the audience, bending way, way down, keeping her knees straight, to take off the second one. She straightened back up, grabbing the pole and lazily spinning around it, coming to a halt facing Mission again, her legs spread in a proud, dominant stance.
Her fingers trailed slowly down over her ribs, over her belly, down to her hips. On impulse, she skipped over the gun belt, instead flicking open the top button on her pants. Below, Mission squirmed in her seat, eyes fixed on the stage. She slowly pulled apart the next three buttons on the fly of her pants, squirming as she did, enjoying the feel of the leather pulled tightly between her legs.
Slowly, she started to push her pants down over her hips, just enough to see the matching black thong she was wearing, then she sat down, laying back on the stage, throwing her legs straight up above her head. Grabbing the bottoms of the pant leg, she slowly, slowly pulled them off, revealing her long legs. Once they were free of the pants, she let them drop slowly down to the sides, into an almost complete split, and rolled up into a sitting position, forward so she was lying on the stage.
The song ended with a flourish, and she rose up to her feet, taking a dramatic bow to enthusiastic applause. Scooping the scattered bits of clothing she’d left on the stage, she leapt lightly down, dropping her clothes on their table. A quick brush of the Force against Mission’s mind was more than enough to judge her mood, and she didn’t waste time with words. She straddled the Twi’lek’s lap and tilted her head down to kiss her.
Mission returned the kiss eagerly, hands wrapping around her bare back, pulling her closer. After a moment of just letting herself enjoy it, Revan broke off from the kiss, saying softly. “You know, they have back rooms here…” As she stood up, swinging her leg back off of Mission’s lap, the girl nearly knocked her chair over in her eagerness to follow. She chuckled softly, drawing her back into one of the curtained alcoves around the perimeter of the room. HK took up guard just outside, looking menacingly at an opportunistic man working his way over to them. He abruptly slowed and changed direction, thinking there might be easier targets for his lust tonight.
Inside, Mission was oblivious to everything except getting the Jedi in front of her the rest of the way naked, and herself to match. Revan pushed her back onto the black padded couch against the wall, one hand sliding up under her shirt, the other reaching up, fingers brushing ever so gently against the base of Mission’s lekku.
The Twi’lek gasped, eyes squeezing shut, and Revan grinned. She’d heard how sensitive they were, had exploited it in battle, but never had the chance to play with the more pleasant aspects before. Slowly, she slid her fingers down the incredibly soft skin, feeling the nerves twitch eagerly against her touch. Mission let out a low, helpless moan, and Revan decided to keep it up. She pulled her hand out from under her shirt so she could rub both lekku at once, stroking slowly from base to tip.
Mission’s whole body convulsed and she whimpered, squirming happily on the couch. Revan wrapped her hands fully around them, stroking gently up and down the length, pulling them free of her shoulders so they lay forwards across her breasts. Underneath her, Mission moaned and squirmed. “If… if you keep that up, I’m going to cum…” she gasped breathlessly.
“That’s the general idea,” Revan murmured back, increasing the speed of her stroking. Although she’d never had a Twi’lek before, the movement wasn’t unlike stroking a very long, supple cock, which gave her ideas of things to try later on. She leaned down, capturing Mission’s mouth in a kiss, tongue darting forward into her open mouth.
She kissed willingly back, although she broke off quickly to gasp for air, her legs squeezing together, arms gripping the couch desperately, trying to ground herself. “I can’t… I can’t… oh, please don’t stop…” she whimpered breathlessly.
Revan squeezed a little tighter as her hands slid up and down her lekku, and Mission let out a loud, whimpering moan, her whole body shuddering as she came, arching up against Revan’s body. “Ohh… oh, that was good,” she moaned softly, trembling as Revan slid her hands gently down and free of her lekku.
“I’m not finished yet,” Revan murmured, both hands going to her shirt this time, meaning business. It was up over her head before Mission could react, and her deft fingers were already undoing her bra and pushing it away. She dipped her head down, licking one hard, dark blue nipple, already peaked from the orgasm she’d just had.
Mission moaned, reaching up, hands wrapping around Revan’s back. Clumsy from pleasure and drink, it took her a few moments to undo the clasp on her bra, but she eventually managed to yank it off with triumph, hands rubbing gently over her breasts.
It was Revan’s turn to moan, Mission’s warm hands were soft and welcome against her skin, her palms teasing her nipples, making them harden with anticipation. She pressed eagerly forwards against the girl’s hands, encouraging her.
She took the hint, squeezing the soft, round flesh, fingers pinching delicately at her nipples. “You… are nowhere near as innocent as you look, are you?” Revan groaned, arching back.
“You know I’m not,” Mission chuckled. “Or you wouldn’t have brought me here in the first place.” She rubbed in firm, small circles over her nipples, teasing the older woman. Revan could feel the wetness growing between her legs, the soaked part of her thong cool against her skin. She could smell her own arousal, heavy in the air, and when she reached down, undoing Mission’s pants and sliding them down, the spicier spell of the Twi’lek mixed deliciously with her own.
Mission eagerly lifted her hips, squirming out of her pants, and let go of Revan’s breasts long enough to slide her panties off with them. She kicked them to the side, and slid back so she was sitting rather than lounging on the couch, her legs spread comfortably.
Revan followed her, yanking her own panties down and dropping them on the floor, kneeling over Mission’s lap and sliding her hand down the girl’s stomach, fingers eagerly exploring lower. She felt no trace of hair, shaved or otherwise. “Mmm, I take it this is a Twi’lek thing?” she asked.
“Yep. I was plenty surprised the first time I saw a human naked,” Mission chuckled, reaching forwards, her fingers travelling across Revan’s hips, trailing down. “Although now I think the fur is kind of cute.”
“Cute?” Revan echoed, trying to sound outraged and spoiling it by giggling. “Cute?”
“Yes, cute!” Mission chuckled. “Like a chitlick. Makes me just want to pet it all day long…” She suited action to words, her slender, talented fingers sliding through the patch of hair, slowly dipping down below. “Wow, you’ve really been enjoying this evening, haven’t you?” she observed as her fingers slid easily through the slick juices.
“Clearly,” Revan groaned, pressing against Mission’s hand, dipping her own deeper. The shape wasn’t quite like her own, there was one less set of folds, although the clit was larger and smoother, making Mission gasp when her fingers brushed over it. Her finger slid in easily, no restrictions, no confusion about where her entrance was. No wonder Twi’lek’s were the galaxy’s most popular pleasure slaves. Her pussy felt delightfully welcoming even to her solitary finger, and the way Mission squirmed with pleasure just enhanced it.
“Oh kriff…” Mission groaned. “Oh, that feels so good…” Not to be left behind, she moved her own questing fingers back, sliding two into Revan’s well lubricated entrance.
Moaning, Revan slid forward on the couch so they could both reach deeper, her breasts rubbing up against Mission’s chest. She shifted her body around, loving the feeling of their soft flesh rubbing together, gasping when their nipples touched, a more intense zing of sensation.
“I bet… I bet you’ll cum first,” Revan panted, leaning forward to kiss her neck.
“Challenge accepted!” Mission declared, curling her fingers inside of Revan, making her whimper with pleasure. Her free hand slipped up to squeeze at one of her breasts, not quite as gentle this time, but Revan didn’t mind in the slightest.
She groaned, wrapping her arm around Mission’s waist, holding her close. She turned her head slightly, her lips going from her neck to her lekku. Mission yelped, jerking slightly, driving her fingers deeper into Revan.
Revan moaned, sliding a second finger into Mission’s pussy, feeling it shift to accommodate the extra size. Mission’s hips started to buck up against her hand, and she realized her own were doing the same, riding Mission’s fingers eagerly. The thought of trying to make Mission cum first rapidly dissolved from her mind as her own pleasure grew.
She was moaning constantly, muffled by her lips and tongue busy with Mission’s lekku. The Twi’lek was gasping, whimpering breathlessly, squirming against her. Abruptly, the girl came with a cry of pure pleasure, her fingers digging into Revan’s breast. The almost-pain, combined with the wash of pleasure Mission was bleeding into the Force, pushed her over the edge, and she came hard, clinging onto the girl, shuddering as her pussy clenched around her fingers, squirting juices all over Mission’s hand and the couch under them.
Leaning back with a happy groan, Revan pulled Mission forwards so the girl was laying against her chest, sliding her fingers slowly free, enjoying the dripping wetness that clung to them. “Ohh… I think you and I will have to have a girls’ night out more often, Mission,” she said, a little tired, but pleased with how the night had gone.
The way Mission curled happily against her, face pillowed against her left breast, cemented it. The girl was hers, now.
- 1
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Girls' Night Out