Star Wars: Eyes of God Chapter 10 - Puppetry

Kyle crouched on the edge of the motel roof. His knees were tucked under him, and in one hand he held a dead rat that had just stopped smoking. This was the third one tonight. The first had exploded, the second had flopped around like a wet sock for five seconds before dying, and this one had just locked up and dropped with a whimper the moment he tried to flood chakra into it.

He stared down at it with a blwnk and expression, lips twitching toward a smile that hadn't quite made up its mind about whether this was a breakthrough or just a sign that he needed sleep and possibly medication. He set the corpse aside gently, wiped blood off his knuckles, and summoned another chakra rod, a thin needle-length one this time at the tip of his finger. The key wasn't brute force. It was finesse. Precise insertion. Right nerves, right chakra flow, means no overload.

The next attempt was a success, in that the rat didn't detonate or seize. It just didn't move either. Kyle cursed under his breath and tried again, forming the rod with less density making the inside hollow, directing the chakra in a tighter pulse. Still nothing. He shifted position, balanced the rat in one hand, and stabbed the rod into the base of the neck. This one twitched. Legs jerked. A toe moved. That was something right?

By the time the artificial lights began to turn on through the thick yellow smog line of the lower districts, Kyle had gone through six rats, a few minor burns on his fingertips, and two chakra surges that left him lightheaded. But in the end, standing in the middle of a rusted rooftop covered in rat corpses and blood smears, he managed to get one of them to stand.

It had the same Rinnegan eyes as he did, a shredded ear, and dried blood stuck to its fur, but it obeyed when he told it to walk in a circle. It turned when he thought about turning. It sat when he imagined it sitting. He gave it a name without even thinking: Stuart.

When the sun was fully up and his stomach started growling, Kyle dropped down off the rooftop with a half-hearted Force push to cushion his landing. He touched the ground with a thud, adjusted the hem of his coat, and strolled back into the building like he wasn't carrying a dead, reanimated sewer rat in his coat pocket. Back upstairs, the motel room still smelled like wet carpet and shit, but now there was a more humid note layered in, something like steam and soap and something citrus. Zarni had just stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel that barely qualified as one, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders and her expression set to "if you speak I will bury you."

"I had to wear boots in there," she said, brushing past him toward the bed. "The water came out in weird brown spurts, the walls are literally sweating black, and I think the showerhead whispered something to me in Huttese."

"Yeah, yeah," Kyle said, waving her complaints away with a half-smile. "We can cry about the amenities later. Right now, I've got something absolutely amazing to show you."

She didn't stop walking, but she did pause to roll her eyes hard enough that it might've given her a headache. "Is it an Aratech Industries Five-Rated hotel suite with a working spa and full buffet?"

"Better than that," Kyle said, and he said it with the kind of pride that meant he actually believed it.

"I'm already disappointed," she replied.

Kyle grinned, raised one hand, and began a slow, dramatic drumroll against the nightstand with his fingertips, building a rhythm that ended in a theatrical "dun-dun-dun-dun!" as he pulled Stuart from his coat and held him out by the tail.

The rat dangled in the air, legs limp, head tilted, one eye the same as the Rinnegan and the other half-closed in death. Zarni screamed and launched herself backward onto the bed with surprising speed, nearly losing her towel as she scrambled up onto the mattress and pointed at him like he'd just pulled out a severed head. "I told you to get that thing out of here!" she yelled, snatching a bottle of cheap motel lotion off the dresser and hurling it at him.

Kyle caught it mid-air with the Force, rotated it lazily, and set it down on the nightstand without breaking eye contact. "Whoa. Don't be mean to Stuart. He's not gonna hurt you."

"You named the rat?" She said incredulously.

Kyle coughed. "Don't be mean to the rat," he corrected quickly, like maybe she hadn't noticed the slip.

She just stood there on the bed, towel clenched in both hands, radiating horror and confusion in equal measure as she stared at the stiff, disgusting rodent in his palm. "Why do you have a dead rat," she asked, very slowly, like she was trying to remain calm.

Kyle gently placed Stuart on the table, where he went limp like someone had hit the off switch. "Because I have a very particular set of skills. One of them lets me make these." He formed a chakra rod from his fingertip. "They transmit my energy or 'the force' to make it less complicated. If I insert them into a dead body, I can move it. Control it. Even see through it."

"You what." Zarni's voice had gone cold.

"It's not as creepy as it sounds."

"It sounds exactly as creepy as it sounds."

Kyle sighed. "Look. This stuff. It's High-level. I can't explain the whole thing without a diagram and at least a week of your time. But the point is, I can use it to control Stuart. Move him around. Scout with him. He's like a tiny, dead drone with fur."

"Wait," she said suddenly, her eyes narrowing. "Did you do that to me?"

Kyle blinked, stunned. "What? No. I told you. It only works on corpses."

She didn't stop glaring.

"If I was controlling you," Kyle muttered, rubbing his temple, "there wouldn't be nearly this much talking."

"...Okay, fair," she admitted.

Kyle gave Stuart a tap of chakra and the rat stood up, stiff-legged, rotating in a neat circle on the table. Zarni made a noise somewhere between a squeal and a gag and turned away. "I can even share vision through him," Kyle said. "It's a little jarring, but we basically share the same vision. That means I can send him into places we can't go. Under doors. Through air vents. Past security."

Zarni turned back, her face still pale. "And how does this help us deal with the Blood Oracle?"

Kyle spread his hands. "What do you mean how? He's a perfect scout. I can get into their hideouts without ever being seen. I can map the entire compound, figure out where they're keeping the good stuff, figure out where the boss is hiding."

"I mean, it's a dead rat, Kyle."

"Such a hater," he said, shaking his head.

She turned away again, arms crossed. "This is the dumbest idea you've had."

Kyle smirked and crossed the room, kneeling down to fish a clean shirt from the only bag he hadn't accidentally bled on. "You know what? With this little guy, I guarantee I can pull enough cash to get you that Aratech suite you've been drooling over."

Zarni's eyes snapped back toward him. "You know those go for fifty thousand a night, right?"

Kyle didn't even blink. "I know."

She stared at him for a long moment, then stepped off the bed and walked right up to him, towel still damp and half loose, a wicked grin starting to form. "If you get me one of those rooms," she said softly, leaning in close enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek, "Then you can do anything you want to me."

Kyle blinked twice.

"Anything, huh?" he echoed, his voice dropping an octave without him meaning it to. He reached out, fingers brushing the edge of the towel where it clung precariously to her curves, but she stepped back just enough to tease, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Only if you deliver, rat-boy," she purred, turning away with a sway of her hips that made the towel ride up just a fraction. She dropped it unceremoniously onto the bed, not bothering to cover up as she rummaged through her bag for clothes. Kyle's gaze locked on the smooth lines of her back, the way her ass flexed as she bent over. Her skin was still flushed from the shower, beads of water tracing lazy paths down her spine, pooling at the dimples just above her hips.

He forced himself to look away, focusing on Stuart instead. The rat was still perched on the table, its Rinnegan eye staring blankly, waiting for commands. "Right. Plan time," Kyle muttered, more to himself than her. He scooped up the little corpse and tucked it back into his coat pocket.

"I'm heading out," Kyle said as he grabbed the rest of his stuff. He adjusted his coat, feeling Stuart's small, lifeless weight shift in his pocket. "Won't be long. Just need to scout a bit, get the lay of the land."

Zarni, now slipping into a skimpy top that hugged her breasts like a second skin, glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. "Don't get yourself killed, rat-boy. I expect that suite... and everything that comes with it."

Kyle shot her a wink, but his mind was already racing ahead as he stepped out the door. The motel's hallway reeked of stale smoke and an actual dead body... 'what the fuck happened in the past five minutes?'. He descended the rickety stairs two at a time, pushing through the lobby where the clerk didn't even look up from his holovid porn feed; Kyle peaked over and saw images of a Twi'lek writhing under a Gamorrean's rough thrusts flickering on the screen. He raised an eyebrow before he moved back out. Kyle paused at the alley's mouth, his brain firing through plans like a rotary canon.

He came up with a few viable plans to get some money.

First option: Hit up a low-end casino, use the Force to nudge the odds on sabacc tables. Quick cash, but risky, r there are likely cameras everywhere, and if he pushed too hard, he'd draw heat from the house enforcers.

Second: Straight-up theft from a spice dealer. Stealthy insertion with Stuart, snatch the goods, fence them fast. But that could piss off the wrong syndicate, and he wasn't in the mood for another bounty being put on his head.

Third: Bounty hunting. Plenty of scum down here with prices on their heads, but without intel, he'd be walking blind into a nest of vipers. Plus he'd already tried bounty hunting and that's kind of why he was in a shit situation to begin with.

As he leaped onto a nearby fire escape, scaling it effortlessly with force-enhanced body. He needed to prioritise money first. Everything else hinged on having credits to grease palms, buy gear, and yeah, splurge on that suite where he could finally pin Zarni down and make good on her promise.

He hadn't been this deep in Coruscant's underbelly before so a lot of this territory was unknown to him.  He needed specifics about this place, territories, weak spots, who's holding the fattest purses. Best place for that? The clubs. Dens of vice where tongues loosened with booze, spice, and sex.

Before hitting the rooftops proper, Kyle ducked into a shadowed alcove. He formed the hand seals swiftly and chakra rippled over him like a second skin. His features shifted; his jawline sharpened, hair darkened to a greasy blonde mop, eyes turned a muddy brown, clothes morphing into a worn leather jacket and scuffed pants that screamed "local thug." And he was also able to hide his Rinnegan, his most noticeable trait. Satisfied, he channeled chakra to his feet and launched upward, bounding from one rusted balcony to another, then across narrow gaps between buildings. The wind whipped past, carrying shouts from below.

He spotted the club from three rooftops away: "The Crimson Vein," its sign a throbbing red hologram of a woman's lips parting in ecstasy, blood dripping from the corners like vampire fangs. Kyle dropped down into an alley, dispelling the excess chakra flow, and joined the line, flashing a forged ID chit at the bouncer who waved him through without a second glance.

Inside, the club was about as loud as it could be; strobe lights slicing through smoke-thick air, the stench of sweat and spilled ryll mingling with the tang of blood from the fight pits in the back. Bodies writhed on the dance floor, a Togruta female grinding against a burly human, her lekku wrapping around his neck as she rode his thigh, her skirt hiked up to reveal glistening thighs slick with arousal. "I'll never get bored of places like this," Kyle said to himself as a huge smile formed on his face at the sheer number of partially naked women present.

Nearby, a pair of Nautolans were going at it in a booth, the male's tentacles thrusting deep into his partner's mouth while she fingered herself furiously. Kyle weaved through the club, reminding himself. Don't get distracted. Eyes on the prize, info, then cash, then Zarni spread out beneath him, begging for more.

He sidestepped a brawl erupting at the bar: two Gamorreans slamming fists into each other, one ripping open the other's cheek with a vibro-knife, blood spraying across the counter in hot arcs. The loser gurgled, collapsing in a heap as the winner roared and claimed his opponent's drink, chugging it while crimson dripped from his tusks. Further in, the fight pits drew a crowd. A lithe Mirialan female circled a scarred Trandoshan, her body oiled and nude save for straps that barely covered her pierced nipples. She dodged a claw swipe, countering with a kick that madeee him grunt, but he grabbed her leg, slamming her down.

Kyle tore his gaze away and scanned for a fixer. There, in a dimly lit corner booth: a sleazy Bothan with fur matted from too many nights here, surrounded by datapads and a holographic display flickering with underworld feeds. Fixers like him traded info for credits, no questions asked. Kyle approached, sliding into the seat opposite, ignoring the distraction of a nearby orgy where a group of humans and aliens tangled in a heap.

"Looking for gang intel," Kyle said quietkly, sliding a few credits across the table. "This levels territories, big players, easy scores."

The Bothan eyed him, whiskers twitching. "Specifics cost extra, friend. What you got in mind?"

"I am interested in the small fry operations down here on this floor specifically," Kyle said in a wuiet voice that carried just enough that the man could hear him, "the independent gangs that keep their business local without any strings pulling them from the levels above or ties to the big syndicates like Black Sun or the Hutts, the ones scraping by on petty rackets that might have vulnerabilities ripe for a quick opportunistic play without drawing heat from higher powers."

The Bothan leaned back in his booth with a slow motion that allowed his fur to bristle slightly in what Kyle recognized as a feigned display of wariness designed to inflate the perceived value of his knowledge, his clawed fingers drumming lightly on a datapad as he assessed this newcomer.  "That kind of detail does not come cheap," the Bothan replied with a sly curl to his lips that exposed yellowed teeth worn from years of chewing stimsticks. He pocketed the initial credits Kyle had slid over without breaking eye contact, testing the waters to see if this human would balk.

Kyle allowed a faint smile to ghost across his features while internally he activated the Rinnegan and read the microexpressions flickering across the Bothan's face. "I understand the value of exclusivity in such matters," Kyle continued smoothly, "but I am not here to overpay for common knowledge that any street urchin could tell me for a meal voucher, so let us be reasonable and start with an overview of three or four such gangs including their turfs and primary hustles for double what I have already given you, and if the intel proves solid upon verification then perhaps we can discuss deeper specifics like leadership vulnerabilities or current weak points for an additional premium that benefits us both in the long run."

The Bothan chuckled softly with a sound that rumbled from his chest like gravel shifting in a storm drain while his eyes narrowed in appreciation of Kyle's astuteness. "You drive a hard bargain for someone new to these depths," the Bothan admitted with a nod as he adjusted his holographic display to pull up encrypted files glowing with maps and names that flickered momentarily

"Alright then we settle at triple your initial offer for the basics on four independents including the Razor Claws who control the scrap yards in sector twelve with their droid chop shops and extortion rackets, the Venom Sisters running spice dens in the eastern vents without any offworld backing, the Iron Fists holed up in the old transit hubs peddling black market cyberware, and the Shadow Webs who weave info brokering webs in the market bazaars but stay unaffiliated to avoid syndicate taxes, plus I will throw in a warning about their recent skirmishes that could open doors for an enterprising individual like yourself if you move fast before the dust settles."

Kyle weighed the offer in his mind with the speed of his Force enhanced mind which was combined with the Rinnegan, while observing the fixer's body language for any signs of deceit such as averted gaze or accelerated heartbeat that his heightened perception could detect, deciding that the details sounded plausible enough to risk the credits he finally slid the agreed amount across the table and committed the information to memory, courtesy of his Rinnegan that allowed him to visualize the maps as if they were etched into his brain.

"Deal," Kyle said succinctly as the Bothan transferred a discreet data spike loaded with the promised intel into his waiting palm.

"Pleasure doing business with you," the Bothan said with a greasy smile that stretched his whiskers wide as he scooped up the credits from the table and tucked them into a hidden pouch beneath his matted fur.

Before Kyle could fully disengage, the Bothan tilted his head with a conspiratorial wink, "You want any other services to complement that intel, stranger? I can hook you up with a discreet brothel full of lithe Twi'lek dancers whose cunts can wrap around your cock and milk it dry while their asses bounce on your hips, or premium drugs like glitterstim to heighten every sensation until your orgasms explode like supernovas, or even slaves fresh from the auctions. I have it all at my fingertips for the right price."

Kyle chuckled softly with a shake of his head that betrayed a flicker of temptation as he rose from the booth, "Maybe another time," before the pull of the club's varuous 'activities could lure him in.

Pushing through the writhing crowd with quick strides that dodged flailing limbs and spurting fluids from a group orgy, Kyle exited the Crimson Vein into the smog-choked street, leaping upward with a surge of force to grip the edge of a nearby building's ledge and haul himself onto the rooftop in one fluid motion that carried him away from the street below.

He traversed the undercity by bounding across rusted girders and narrow catwalks until he reached a massive industrial pipe snaking along the side of a derelict factory tower, where he finally sat down with his legs dangling over the edge and pulled out the data spike, intending to delve into the intel on those low-level gangs.

But before he could slot the spike into his wrist-mounted datapad, a soft chime echoed from his commlink, vibrating against his wrist with an incoming holocall that made him freeze in shock as the caller ID flashed Ahsoka's name, his heart tightening in his chest like a vice as guilt flooded him for forgetting to check in over the past few days, knowing she must be worried sick about his safety.

He answered with a quick tap, his holographic projector flickering to life and projecting Ahsoka's image, her montrals framing a face etched with concern, "Hey, how are you holding up at the temple?" He said forging a smile.

"I'm fine," Ahsoka replied with a relieved sigh that softened her features, before adding, "But how about you? You haven't called in the past few days... is everything okay down there?"

Kyle's mind raced as he weighed his words, knowing he couldn't tell her about the bounty on his head or the Blood Oracle. She'd worry herself into a frenzy and probably drop everything to come racing back down to protect him. "Yeah, everything's fine. I'm just enjoying myself exploring the lower levels and getting into some harmless adventures," he said causally as he leaned back against the pipe.

Her expression brightened with genuine happiness at that, "I'm glad to hear it, you deserve some time to unwind after everything you've been through," she said, her eyes sparkling as she nodded. Then her tone shifted to something more intimate, her voice dropping to a soft whisper as she confessed, "I miss you so much it aches. I'm desperate to see you soon and feel your arms around me again."

"I miss you too," Kyle said sincerely, it was hard to seeparate the feelings this universes Kyle felt for Ahsoka from his own, they seemed to be just a big of part of him as they were of his doppelgänger.

Now that the important things were out the way they talked for a bit about life at the temple was for her since he was gone. Unsurprisingly it was the same old same old, but she did end up dropping a bombshell on him. "I'm being deployed to the front lines soon on a mission to some contested outer rim."

Kyle felt a spike of worry knot in his gut at the news, but he pushed it down, "When you're out there, there are no rules saying I couldn't swing by to see you—maybe link up planetside for a moment away from the Jedi oversight," he suggested with a lecherous grin.

That idea excited her visibly, her lekku twitching with enthusiasm as she grinned and said, "You have to promise you'll come!!! I feel like I haven't seen you in so long, you have to promise!"

"I have to get a ship first," he said with a chuckle, "but I will...I promise."

Ahsoka smirked playfully, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she leaned in closer to the holo and purred, "If you keep your promise, I'll make sure to reward you for it," emphasizing the words before she tugged down the front of her tunic, exposing her firm perky tits with their orange nipples hardening in the cool air.

Kyle's breath hitched as arousal surged through him, his cock stirring to life in his pants at the sight of her bare breasts, he could help imagining sucking on those peaks until she moaned his name, but then Ahsoka hid them away with a wicked laugh, "You'll have to wait for some more, this is just a preview to keep you motivated," she said with a giggle.

"Listen I have to go now, make sure to call em soon... I love you," she said softly after that, her voice tender as the call ended .

"I love you too," Kyle replied, watching her image fade with a pang of longing. He leaned back fully against the pipe, his erection straining uncomfortably against his trousers as frustration built in his groin.

"Damn blue balls."

(AN: So Kyle has learned a new trick, well he knew about it before but he's now mastered it. He's gonna try and learn more chakra based abilities such as jutsu and shit like that. Though he only has his memories to base it off. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)