Star Wars: Eyes of God Chapter 14 - Thousand Springs Hotel

Deep in the bowels of the Blood Oracle's bunker, Varkis Voss stood over a massive tactical table flickering with real-time feeds from the lower levels. His yellow eyes burned with barely contained rage as his aides and lieutenants scurried around him. Reports had flooded in overnight, about the chaos in the levels just below them, rival gangs wiped out in a single night. Voss's vibro-axe rested against his throne, still crusted with dried gore from his last "motivational" execution, but now his focus was on the holo-projections showing smoldering ruins of the Razor Claws' junkyard and, the Venom Sisters Casino.

An aide, a twitchy man with sweat beading on his blue skin, stepped forward hesitantly, his voice cracking as he delivered the news. "Boss... it's confirmed. The Razor Claws are annihilated, whole crew marched out like idiots on a suicide raid, got shredded at the Sisters' doorstep. And the Venom Sisters? Their casino's a slag heap, the Sisters themselves... well, what's left of 'em is smeared across the walls. No survivors on either side, and the creds... gone. Millions vanished into thin air."

The room erupted in murmurs among the other leaders. Sskal hissed first, claws scraping the table. "Had to be Black Sun, those slimy bastards been eyeing the spice lanes for months. Probably hired mercs to pit the Claws and Sisters against each other, then swooped in for the scraps. I say we hit their mid-level ops, rip out their guts and fuck the holes while they're still warm."

Deema rolled her eyes, her full lips curling in a sneer as she crossed her arms. "Black Sun? Please. This reeks of Hutt interference, Ziro has been quiet too long. Sending the Claws on a kamikaze run? Classic slimeball move. We'd find slug trails if we looked close. And the vaults cleaned out? That's not some turf war bullshit."

Jax chuckled as he adjusted his crotch. "You're both idiots. It's gotta be that republic commando team—"

Voss slammed his massive fist on the table with a thunderous crack, the table splintering under the impact, sending shards flying like shrapnel. The room fell dead silent, the leaders freezing mid-breath, Sskal's tongue flicking nervously, deema nipples hardening further from the adrenaline spike, Jax's hand pausing mid-grope.

When the echo faded, Voss's voice rumbled like gravel in a grinder. "It was him."

The Pantoran aide blinked, leaning forward slightly. "Boss?"

"It's the bounty hunter," Voss snarled, his yellow eyes narrowing to slits. "The one we hired... the Jedi. He's the one who did this. Orchestrated the whole kriffing mess. Send several hit squads down there now, he might still be down there if we're fast enough. Flood the levels, bring me his head or don't come back at all."

Jax, ever the fool, snorted doubtfully. "The Jedi? Come on boss, that kid we stiffed? He's decent, yeah, but wiping out two gangs in one night? Nah, he's probably jacking off in some motel, not—"

Voss moved like lightning, his massive hand shooting out to grab Jax by the throat, lifting him off the ground with effortless strength, the human's legs kicking futilely, twitching in panic as piss leaked down his pants. Voss's claws dug in piercing his flesh, blood trickling down his body . With a savage roar, he yanked Jax's spine out through his back in a graphic spray of vertebrae and gore, the head still attached, dangling like a trophy as the body slumped to the floor in a twitching heap.

The room was tomb-silent, the leaders' eyes wide, Deema thighs clenching involuntarily at the raw violence, a wet spot forming between her legs from the twisted arousal of fear.

Voss dropped the spine-head mess with a wet thud, wiping his hands on his cloak. "Does anyone have any other questions?"

No one breathed a word, heads shaking frantically as they averted their gazes from the mutilated corpse, Sskal's scales paling, Deema's breasts rising and falling rapidly.

"Good," Voss growled. "Get to work... NOW."

The leaders scattered like roaches, barking orders into comms for hit squads. Voss sat back in his throne, vibro-axe in hand, plotting his next move, unaware that the "Jedi" was already counting his millions, and getting ready to leave the undercity.

_____________________________________

Back at the dingy motel, Zarni sat at the table, poking at a bowl of what passed for food down here. A slimy, gray sludge that wriggled faintly under her spoon, smelling like a mix of rancid bantha milk and sewage runoff.

She shoved it away with a grimace, the bowl clattering to the edge of the table. "I don't know what the hell that is... probably some Hutt's leftover jizz mixed with rat guts.... Gods, how did my life go to kriff so fast?" she sighed, rubbing her temples, her full breasts straining against her tight top as she leaned back.

The door creaked open, and Kyle strolled in with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, his eyes sparkling with triumph as he kicked the door shut behind him.

Zarni's eyes flicked up, her sigh deeper this time, laced with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection. "Oh yeah... that's how," she muttered, gesturing vaguely at him like he was the root of all her woes.

But she shook off the annoyance, straightening up with a glint in her eyes. "Listen Kyle, I've been in contact with some old contacts, a group of smugglers I used to run with. And I secured us transport, nothing fancy but reliable. We can get smuggled to Nar Shaddaa; I've got an old safe house there, tucked away in the refugee sector. If we leave later today, we could be there in less than a week."

Kyle chuckled, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, not taking it seriously at all. "Nah, Nar Shaddaa's a total shit hole, worse than here, if you can believe it. Full of sleazy, backstabbing scum. We'd be trading a sewer for a trash compactor if you could believe it."

Zarni's face flushed with anger, her eyes narrowing as she shot up from the chair, fists clenched, her ass cheeks flexing under her shorts as she stepped toward him. "Are you kidding me? Do you even know the kind of danger we're in? The longer we stay here, the more chance we'll be found by the Blood Oracle, or whatever other psycho you've pissed off! We need to move, now!"

Kyle just kept smirking, that infuriating cocky tilt to his lips, his gaze dropping briefly to her heaving chest, imagining peeling off her top and sucking those hard nipples until she moaned his name. That did it! Zarni swung a punch at his jaw, her arm whipping through the air with surprising speed, fueled by pent-up rage.

He caught her fist effortlessly, his hand wrapping around it like a vice, then yanked her close in one fluid motion, their bodies pressing together. "Easy there, firecracker," he murmured, his free hand sliding down to grip her ass cheek firmly, squeezing the firm flesh. "Look outside first."

She frowned, her cheeks still flushed, but curiosity won out over fury. Wriggling free from his grasp and she stormed to the window, peering through the grimy pane, then pushed open the door to step outside, the smoggy air hitting her like a slap. There, parked in the front of the motel like it had dropped from the upper levels, was a luxury transport ship; a sleek SoroSuub Personal Luxury Transport 900, one of the most expensive models on the market, the kind of ride aristocrats and senators drooled over, worth millions just for the base model.

Zarni's jaw dropped, her mind racing to connect the dots, this wasn't stolen; these models couldn't be stolen." "No way... this is impossible," she whispered, her voice breathless, hand reaching out to touch the hull as if it might vanish.

Kyle walked out behind her, still grinning, and hit a remote on his belt, the ramp lowered with a hydraulic whine. He took her hand, leading her up into the opulent interior; plush carpets, holographic displays flickering to life. "Told you I'd deliver," he said, pulling her along.

She stumbled after him, shaking her head in disbelief. "No way... you couldn't have. This thing costs more than most gangs make in a decade. How—?"

Kyle just winked, guiding her deeper into the ship to the single private quarters, a lavish bedroom suite with a king-sized bed draped in Sylan silk sheets. On the bed lay a beautiful dress: a shimmering black gown of Corellian silk.

"You're gonna need to change," he said, nodding at it. "Where we're going, those clothes won't cut it. Too... underlevel."

Zarni's eyes went even wider, her breath catching as she picked up the dress, feeling the luxurious fabric against her skin. "There's no way... you couldn't have pulled this off?"

Kyle smiled wider, leaning in to kiss her neck. "Guess you'd have to see for yourself," he murmured, then pulled away, heading to the pilot's seat up front. He strapped in, fingers mov ng over the controls.

Zarni stood in the private quarters of the luxury transport, her heart pounding like a hyperdrive as she stared at the dress laid out on the bed. The fabric shimmered under the cabin lights; it was a deep midnight blue that seemed to shift hues, embroidered with threads of genuine Corellian gold that caught every glimmer. She ran her fingers over it, feeling the impossibly smooth texture, knowing from her old smuggling days that material like this was worth a fortune. At least 100,000 credits, easy. It was a self-adapting weave that molded to any body like a second skin. And the ship itself? Gods, that SoroSuub yacht had to be ten times that minimum.

"There's no way he managed this," she muttered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. But how else could he have scraped together the credits? The thought sent a thrill through her, mixing with the shock, Kyle wasn't just talk; he'd pulled off something insane.

She stripped out of her grimy underlevel clothes, shivering as the cool air kissed her naked skin. Slipping into the dress was like being enveloped in liquid silk—it hugged her curves perfectly, the nanoweave adjusting seamlessly, cinching her waist to accentuate her hourglass figure, the low neckline plunging deep to showcase the swell of her tits, barely containing them as they bounced with her movements. The slit up the side rode high on her thigh, teasing flashes of her ass and with every step. It was the most comfortable thing she'd ever worn.

Once dressed, she stepped out of the room, the dress swishing softly against her legs, and found Kyle lounging in the small lounge area. He was in a sophisticated suit of his own; a tailored black with subtle gold-inspired accents, the fabric clinging to his broad shoulders and toned chest. He looked like an aristocrat himself, smirking up at her with that infuriating confidence.

"How did you do it?" she asked, crossing her arms under her breasts to push them up further, the dress's neckline dipping dangerously low.

Kyle's smirk widened, his eyes raking over her body like he was already undressing her in his mind. "I told you to trust me. Me and Stuart had it well in hand."

She sighed, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips. "You better not still have that dead rat on you."

"Nah, don't worry, I threw him in the trash a while ago. Little guy was a hero, But he served his purpose," he replied.

Before she could retort, the ship's computer chimed in a feminine voice, ", we will soon be arriving at our destination. Estimated time: five minutes. All systems nominal."

Zarni's eyes widened further, her gobsmacked expression deepening as she glanced around the lounge. "Like the ship?" Kyle said with that same smirk, leaning back casually. "It's the top of its range—deflector shields, automated defenses with stun turrets and ion emitters, and an advanced AI core that can take full control in emergencies. Hell, it can double as an interplanetary shuttle."

She sat down across from him, the couch molding to her ass like it was made for her, her mind reeling. "This... this is insane. How—?"

As she trailed off, Kyle pressed a button on the armrest, and a panel slid open silently from the table between them, a robotic arm extending with a crystal flute of bubbling Cordelia wine. Zarni jumped slightly, surprised, then took the glass, smirking as the absurdity hit her. The smirk turned to laughter a laughter that almost made her fall off the seat.

"You win..." she said finally, raising the glass in a toast, her eyes sparkling with a mix of defeat and excitement.

Kyle returned her smile, leaning forward, his gaze intense, dropping to her cleavage before meeting her eyes again. "I'm glad you see things my way... I could still use a woman of your talents, you know. And I don't just mean on your back, though that's a perk."

"That's a shame," she responded, sipping the champagne, the bubbles tickling her tongue as she crossed her legs, the slit flashing more thigh. "I was looking forward to retiring early, lounging on some beach world, getting fucked senseless."

"Shame I can't let that happen yet," Kyle said, his voice dropping an octave, laced with heat. "I still need to take down the Blood Oracle, and I'm sure you'd like revenge on those bastards too."

"You're damn right I do," she snapped, nearly spilling her drink as she leaned forward "Those fuckers blew up my apartment, killed my contacts, left me scraping by in this shithole. I hope you kill them all."

Kyle chuckled, the sound dark and promising. "That's the spirit. You've got my back?"

Zarni sighed, setting the glass down, but nodded firmly. "Yeah, you've got my support. Just don't get us killed before I get to enjoy this lifestyle."

The computer chimed again, "We have arrived at Thousand Springs Hotel, Aratech Industries' premier resort. Docking procedures initiated. Welcome to luxury redefined."

Zarni's eyes widened to saucers, her breath catching as she whipped her head to Kyle. "You aren't leaving the bed until tomorrow," she said in a husky voice.

Kyle mentally thanked all the thugs and lowlives that had brought him to this moment. "Sounds good," he said as the ship docked smoothly. They stepped off the ramp and onto the landing pad. Immediately, a swarm of hotel staff in pristine white uniforms surrounded.

"Mr. and Mrs. Marek, welcome to Thousand Springs Hotel," the head attendant said, a slick human with a perfectly groomed beard and a bow. "We've been eagerly awaiting your arrival since you booked our most premier suite. If you'll follow me, everything has been prepared to your specifications."

Kyle waved them off casually, his arm still around Zarni's waist. "Yeah, thanks. Keep the ship on standby—I'll be making multiple trips, and don't want to wait around. And make sure Mrs. Marek here gets whatever she needs."

"Of course, Mr. Marek," the attendant replied smoothly, not missing a beat. "Our services are at your disposal. We offer exclusive activities like private zero-gravity yacht tours over the cityscape, personalized holovid screenings with stars from the latest Holomovies, rare beast hunts in our simulated safari dome with imported creatures from Kashyyyk and Felucia, diamond-infused spa treatments using crystals from Ilum, and gourmet dining experiences curated by celebrity chefs from across the galaxy; wagyu bantha steaks flown in from Tatooine ranches or live-cooked Mon Cala seafood paired with vintage Whyren's Reserve. For the more adventurous, we have skydiving pods that drop you through controlled atmospheric layers, or intimate couple's retreats with aphrodisiac infusions and professional masseuses trained in over a hundred species' erogenous zones."

Zarni blinked, still in shock, her tits rising and falling with each breath as the list went on, the dress's fabric teasing her hardening nipples. Kyle just nodded like it was no big deal, guiding her along as the attendant led them to a private elevator tucked away from the main lobby.

"This is your exclusive lift," the attendant explained, stepping in with them. "It responds only to your voices or authorized guests. Simply say 'penthouse' or any floor."

"Penthouse," Kyle said casually, and the doors whooshed shut and it started going up. When the doors opened at the top, Zarni gasped, it was like stepping into a floating paradise. The suite was massive, almost mansion-sized, sprawling across the entire floor with panoramic windows wrapping around, offering 360 views of Coruscant's glittering skyline. In the center was a lush indoor garden, vibrant with exotic flowers and trees from across the galaxy; bioluminescent blooms from Felucia, ferns from Kashyyyk, and a crystal-clear natural pool fed by a mini-waterfall, always heated to body temp.

The attendant walked them through it all, gesturing like a tour guide on steroids. "Your living area features adaptive holo-walls that can project any environment—beaches of Scarif, forests of Felucia, or even a zero-g starfield for... intimate evenings. The kitchen has private chefs on call 24/7, specializing in molecular gastronomy, dishes that change flavor mid-bite, or desserts infused with rare aphrodisiacs. Your bedroom suite includes a king-bed with advanced synth foam that adjusts to your body's heat and movements, plus built-in vibro-massagers and restraint systems for, ah, enhanced relaxation. We have personal attendants available, masseuses, stylists, even companionship droids programmed with over a thousand pleasure protocols. The bar stocks vintages from Aratechs private cellars, and the jacuzzi uses ionized water from Mon Cala's oceans, with optional bubble formulas that tingle on the skin. Tech-wise, full AI integration—voice commands for everything, holographic comms shielded from any surveillance, and a panic room with its own escape pod if needed. Truly out-of-this-world luxury, sir."

Kyle nodded, slipping the guy a 10k credit chip with a casual flick. "Thanks, you can leave now."

The attendant pocketed it with a bow and vanished into the elevator, leaving them alone.

Kyle strolled out to the balcony, the doors sliding open silently. The view was killer, the building towering nearly as high as the Senate dome. He leaned on the railing, mentally patting himself on the back. "Zarni?" he called, stepping back inside, scanning the garden and pool area.

"I'm in here," her voice purred from the bedroom suite.

He walked in, and there she was, naked on the massive bed, silk sheets pooling around her like a throne, legs spread wide to show off her glistening shaved pussy, lips puffy and wet, tits heaving with anticipation, nipples hard as diamonds begging to be sucked.

"You gonna gawk or you gonna collect your prize?"

(AN: So Kyle finally gets to collect his prize and he is now rich. But his current nemesis is not happy, maybe Kyle is going to die who knows. But what I do know is he's definitely going to be fucking.)