Jedi Adventures: Alema Rar Gets Pulled Over
Author's notes: The following short story takes place between the Yuuzhan Vong War and the Dark Nest Crisis. It is the ninth Star Wars story I have written. Please leave me feedback: ahandcuffgirl at yahoo dot com
Jedi Knight Alema Rar rolled her eyes with annoyance when the police speeder's lights began flashing in her rear-view holoscreen. She should have sensed the officer hiding out doing traffic interdiction, but she just wasn't paying attention. Alema Rar pulled her speeder off the deserted road and came to a stop.
It took the police speeder nearly half-a-minute to catch up to her. Alema Rar toyed with the lead ring on her pink collar as she waited for the police speeder. She sensed a single human male presence in it as it came to a stop several meters behind her.
The driver's side door of the police speeder opened and a uniformed officer stepped out of the cockpit. He was perhaps one hundred and seventy-five centimeters tall, and around one hundred and twenty kilograms. He looked fat, but with a considerable layer of muscle underneath. His uniform consisted of a light brown short-sleeve shirt, with black pants and brown boots.
The officer didn't appear to be in very much of a hurry as he slowly sauntered up to the open cockpit of her speeder. She did sense him checking out what he could see of her chest and upper body over the speeder's door as he approached, though. As he came to a stop next to her door, he got a much better look straight down into the cockpit at her.
“Identification,” he asked after getting a good look down her top and at her legs.
Alema Rar glanced up at him as she reached for her real ID card that was in a hidden compartment underneath her silver durasteel belt. Mid-motion she changed to reach for the pouch that was attached to her belt at her right hip, disturbed by what she sensed from him through the Force.
Alema Rar was shocked by the malevolence in him. In the Force, he reminded her more of a hardened slaver thug than a mid-rim police officer. She didn't know what kinds of beings this planet usually employed to enforce the law, but this one would fit in better working as hired muscle for a Hutt, or as a lawyer.
From the pouch on her belt Alema Rar pulled out her one of her false ID cards. If she identified herself as a Jedi, he would most likely just apologize and send her on her way. If she were a stripper from Coruscant, on the other lek, then she could find out what sorts of things he did to helpless females on a deserted road.
“Is there a problem, officer?” she asked timidly as she handed him her ID card. A dozen pink bangles slid down her wrist as she held the card out.
He managed to take his eyes off her tits and took the ID card from her. There was a hand-held computer on his belt that he could slid the ID card into, and it would tell him everything about her. Alema Rar wondered why he didn't reach for it. Then she sensed that he wanted to keep this little encounter private, at least for now. If he scanned her ID card, then there would be a record.
“Well, you were going four hundred and thirty, and the maximum allowed speed on this route is four hundred kilometers per standard hour,” he replied as he looked down her top.
Alema Rar couldn't blame him for looking down her top. In fact, that was the main reason she had worn it.
The top in question was tight, glossy, pink, and stopped about the level of the bottom of her ribcage. The front was open, with four one-centimeter-wide straps keeping it together. The straps were about ten centimeters long, so there was plenty of blue skin showing. The top was also sleeveless, displaying all of her toned blue arms and most of her shoulders. A glossy pink five-centimeter-wide synth-hide collar was locked around her throat. A dozen pink bangle bracelets were on each of her slender wrists.
“Oh, I'm so sorry about that,” Alema Rar said apologetically, “Officer—” she looked for a name tag on his uniform, but didn't see one, so she continued—“I didn't realize how fast I was going.”
Actually Alema Rar had been upset when she discovered that the shiny speeder Karrde had let her use would only go four hundred and thirty kilometers per standard hour. She hadn't even bothered to check the maximum allowed speed on this barely used road in this practically deserted part of this no-account rock.
“Well,” he glanced at the computer display, “Ta'hir'ii, we take traffic violations very seriously around here.”
Alema Rar easily sensed through the Force that he was lying.
“I promise I won't do it again, officer,” she said in her best helpless Twi'lek voice. She was careful not to influence his mind with the Force. Not so much to get out of the speeding citation, which with her being a sexy Twi'lek would be easy, but to encourage him to do anything that he might regret later.
He caught her off guard with his next question.
“Ma'am, do you have anything illegal in the speeder?”
“Oh, no Sir,” Alema Rar rep lied earnestly. The four sets of ID she was carrying would each pass all but the most thorough of checks, and she didn't have a blaster. That left her lightsaber, which was only illegal in a very few places. Mostly places with broad laws that prohibited all potentially lethal weapons. Well, my body should be illegal , Alema Rar thought with amusement.
Now she sensed a particularly malevolent feeling from him. “I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to step out of the speeder,” he said with a well-rehearsed sigh of reluctance.
Through the Force, Alema Rar sensed that he very much wanted her out of the car, but not for any reasons that would be good for her. “Yes, officer,” she responded with a nervous smile as she unfastened her safety harness.
As Alema Rar stepped out of her low speeder, she sensed him almost gasp in shock. While he had seen what she was wearing below her waist while she was in the speeder, out of it he got the full view.
Around her waist was her silver durasteel belt. Her pants were skin-tight, stretchy, and matched her top. The outside seams of her pants legs were open from the top to the bottom, with the same one-centimeter-wide straps connecting the front and back as her top had.
On her feet were strappy, glossy pink fifteen-centimeter-high heels. The straps crisscrossing the shoes were one centimeter wide, just like the straps on her top and pants.
The officer's eyes traveled down the length of her body, then back up. Alema Rar sensed his appreciation at what he saw. “Step to the back of the speeder please,” he instructed her, after he mostly regained his composure.
Without a word, Alema Rar strutted to the back of her speeder. She didn't have to be a Jedi to know that he was staring at her ass as she walked.
“Hands on the speeder, feet apart,” he told her when they stopped.
“Did I do something wrong?” Alema Rar asked pleadingly as she faced the speeder and put her hands on the storage compartment.
He didn't respond as he grabbed her by the belt and bumped her feet farther apart. With her belt he half-lifted her and pulled her a little farther back, forcing her to lean farther forward, off-balance to keep her hands on the speeder.
Once he had her in place like he wanted her, he kept a hand on her belt, and said, “I'm gonna search you for contraband. Don't move.”
“What?” Alema Rar asked, frightened, fake tears starting to flow.
“I said don't move, or I'll stun your pretty little ass,” he told her forcefully, as he began roughly searching her. Well, assaulting her.
First he reached up and fondled her breasts. Then he ran his hands down her bare sides and grabbed her ass again with one hand, while he ran his other hand around her waist, underneath her belt. With one hand still on her ass, he moved his other hand down to her pussy and forcefully groped her.
Alema Rar almost stopped him then. For some reason though, the Force told her to let him go on. She vowed to make sure he wouldn't do something like this again to some helpless female. “Please stop,” she begged him through her tears.
“Shut up,” he responded, with a hard slap of her ass.
After several seconds, he stopped his sexual assault and quickly ran his hands down her legs, even though it was obvious that she wasn't hiding anything down there. Then he pushed his crotch into her ass and leaned forward to pull her arms behind her back.
She didn't resist as he held her small wrists in one hand while he grabbed his binders with the other. Then she felt him push her bracelets up her right arm and snap the binder on her wrist, then do the same with her left.
Alema Rar always felt a surge of pleasure when someone closed binders, shackles or restraints around her wrists. Even when it was a possibly dangerous cop who was way over the line, she couldn't help but feel a little jolt of arousal.
Next the sexually molesting officer—she still didn't know his name—led her, with one hand on her ass, back to the front of his police speeder. There he locked her binders to an attachment point on the front of the speeder that was designed for that purpose.
Once she was secure, he took a few seconds to grope her tits yet again, then turned and walked back towards her speeder.
It took Alema Rar just a couple of seconds to unlock the standard police binders around her wrists. Now they were closed, but with a twist of her wrist she would be free. Not that she would have been particularly worried about one cop even with her hands securely cuffed.
Alema Rar had played these types of games with security officers all over the galaxy. She loved teasing the ones that stayed professional, and the ones that didn't. Very few went as far as this one had though. Most of the ones that went a little too far she would just warn, a few she had reported, and a handful she had taken care of herself. This was already well past the 'take care of herself' point.
The thug in uniform didn't spend very long in her speeder. Certainly not long enough to conduct a proper search for illicit substances. Nevertheless, he walked back to her with an evil, superior grin on his face.
“This yours?” he asked her smugly as he held up a small clear plastex bag.
Alema Rar immediately recognized the contents as ryll. Probably seven or eight grams. She also knew that there wasn't any ryll in the speeder.
“How many times have you assaulted women and planted spice on them?” she asked him in response.
The sudden question caught him off guard. It also had the effect that Alema Rar wanted. It brought the answers to the top of his mind, where they were easy for her to pick up.
He had assaulted about fifty or so women, over the past four years. He had only recently started planting the drugs. Alema Rar was maybe his sixth or seventh victim, and the previous ones had all been in the past few months.
“Hasn't been proven yet,” he answered gleefully. “You'll get three years for this much, plus another five for resisting arrest,” he added. Then the tone of his voice changed. “Unless you want to make some other arrangements?” he offered conspiratorially.
So he either picked his victims carefully, or the higher authorities didn't care what their officers where really up to, Alema Rar thought. She definitely had some other arrangements in mind. They probably weren't the arrangements he was thinking of though. She pretended to consider his offer for a moment.
“Oh, and then there's the charge of attempting to bribe a security officer,” he informed her.
That caught her off guard.
“What?” she asked him.
He smiled broadly. “You offered me sex if I'd let you go,” he replied.
Alema Rar rolled her eyes in disgust. “You practically raped me before you even planted the ryll!” she countered.
Now his smile turned victorious. “How'd you know it was ryll?” he asked her.
Several answers ran through her mind. While she was thinking, he pulled the hand-held computer off his belt and slid her ID card into the slot.
“Ha!” he said triumphantly after a few seconds. “A stripper from Coruscant, and obviously a little strung-out ryll addict. Probably a whore too!” He pressed a few buttons on the computer, then frowned slightly. “Hmm. No priors,” he commented with obvious disappointment. Then he shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well.”
She hated giving him one last chance, but decided to anyway. “Please release me and forget about this,” she asked him calmly, and sincerely.
He laughed again. “Yeah, right, slut.” Then the laugh disappeared. “I think I'll take that offer of sex, though,” he said calmly as he took the last couple of steps towards her.
As his hand reached out for her tits, Alema Rar brought her right foot up and kicked him in the inside of his right knee.
If there was one part of the humanoid anatomy that Alema Rar loved, it was the knee. Well, loved to destroy. There were qui te a few parts of humanoids she actually loved more.
Break a wrist or arm and your opponent can still fight, or escape. Blows to the head caused them to lose consciousness too quickly, and if you made the mistake of hitting it with a bare hand, would likely cause bone breaks in your own hand. Hitting someone in the torso was alright, but a large percentage of beings could take a substantial amount of punishment to that area and keep fighting. Strikes to the lower legs would take them off their feet, but cause no real damage.
Serious damage to the knee joint however, cost the victim the use of that leg, and put them at a severe disadvantage, and prevented them from escaping. Once they were no longer mobile, you could end the fight at your leisure, or if you preferred, escape yourself.
The key to a good first strike on a knee joint however, was the humanoid having most of their weight on that knee. In the split-second Alema Rar began her attack, he changed his center of balance slightly. This had the effect of moving a fraction of his weight to his other leg. As a result, instead of breaking ligaments and tendons, his right leg went out from under him, and he dropped to his left knee.
Alema Rar sensed him reaching for his comlink before his hand even moved. The comlink attached to his right shoulder. She sensed that he was reaching for the 'ON' switch.
Her hands came out from behind her back. She reached for the comlink with her left hand, and drove the heel of her right hand into his nose. She felt cartilage break and blood spurted out almost instantly. As he fell backwards Alema Rar easily ripped the comlink off the shoulder strap of his shirt.
She took a moment to make sure the comlink was off before tossing it several meters away. It was a police voice activated model. If he hadn't cut it off to have some fun, he might have been able to call for help.
Her analysis of the comlink and his mistake took less than a second. As Alema Rar looked back at him, she took a step towards him. He was trying to pull his blaster out of its holster, while holding his other hand over his broken nose.
Alema Rar timed her leap so that when the blaster cleared the holster, her kick sent it flying away. By the time she landed and spun around, he had rolled over to his knees and one hand, trying to climb to his feet. She kicked his arm out from under him with her left foot and drove his head into the ground with her right hand. He didn't get back up.
After a quick Force exercise to calm herself, Alema Rar dragged him to the front of his speeder, where his binders were still hanging open. In a few seconds his arms were stretched out over his head, his wrists locked in the binders, which were still attached to the front of the speeder.
Alema Rar retrieved the comlink and blaster with the Force. She turned the comlink on, and listened for any panicked concern about an officer in need of assistance. She didn't feel any danger from the Force, but it never hurt to take chances. While she was listening, she hid his blaster underneath the front seat of his speeder.
After listening about half-a-minute, she clipped the comlink to the front of his shirt, where he would be sure to see it when he regained consciousness. Then she opened herself up to the Force, and dove into his mind.
With the Force, she impressed upon him the need to confess everything he'd done to the local holonews affiliate, then to his superiors. The holonews was just in case his superiors were more interested in covering up a scandal than justice. Telling them first also made sure his superiors wouldn't go to greater lengths to cover up the scandal. Then she wiped the memory of the entire encounter with her from his mind.
After a couple of minutes she withdrew from his mind, and relaxed. When he woke up he would be in such a rush to confess to the media that he probably wouldn't even wonder what had happened.
Next Alema Rar put him into a Force nap that would last at least half an hour. That would give her time to get out of the area safely. Then she unlocked his binders from around his wrists, and let his arms fall back to his sides.
Alema Rar retrieved her false ID card from his computer, and cleared the screen so her file wouldn't appear. Someone could pull it from the memory, or the record from the network, but she wouldn't be using this ID on this planet anymore.
While she waited for the computer to clear out, Alema Rar checked out her clothes. She was a little dirty, but nothing was ripped or anything like that. Her right heel was a little scuffed up though.
Once the computer was clear, she tossed it to the ground next to the unconscious officer. I never did learn his name, she thought idly.
As she started back towards her speeder, Alema Rar spotted the bag of ryll lying on the ground. She considered taking it along, to make sure it didn't end up as evidence against some other innocent woman, but left it instead. Wouldn't want to get caught with it for real, she thought wi th a smile, as she climbed into her speeder and took off.
Several hours later, off-planet ...
As Alema Rar computed the jump to hyperspace she checked her messages. One from Talon Karrde was waiting. She listened to it first.
Hey, Alema Rar, about that speeder you're borrowing. I just found out that my associate left a small bag of ryll in the console. I just wanted to let you know, in case you get pulled over or anything. It's no problem if you want to just throw it out or something though. Karrde out.
Alema Rar rolled her eyes with annoyance. She'd have to speak to Talon about leaving stuff in speeders she borrowed from him without telling her. What if I had beaten the kriff out of an honest cop?
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