[Unchained]
— Atom —
Eerily, victory over Circumtore came without much fanfare to speak of.
It was a creeping feeling, from fighting to… nothing. No climax. No grand final stand. Just thousands of Hutts flatlining on their lonesome. And as they did, they left their world to us.
Circumtore was claimed in full, through continuous hours of bloodshed and violence. The strike teams got most of that action. But once our foothold was undeniable, more and more crusade forces streamed into the capital to help clean up the mess.
Things snowballed hard after that, with the Shell Hutts of Circumtore picked apart piecemeal.
It took a whole Circumtore week, but once the ball was firmly rolling, the outcome was obvious to anyone who cared to look. The Hutts didn’t have any coordinated defense. They stood no chance as a result. All they could do was fight to the last on their own.
Then, Gonk and Freed teamwork made short work of those last stands and blazes of glory.
The only real sign of our victory beforehand was a fleeing fleet that managed to slip past David in orbit. They rose from Circumtore’s inner band and blitzed past the Gonk blockade. Worryingly, David reported that the fleeing fleet was impossible to touch and hard enough to detect; unstoppable as they fled the world.
Spooky-ass black iron plates covered void-capable pleasure barges and Hutt yachts. The plates drank in everything physical, light and blasterfire and sensor signals and even their own shields, drained dry from within their envelopes. But those faltering shields didn’t mean much when the spooky-ass armor still made the fleeing fleet impervious.
That whole business was concerning, and not just because some Shell Hutts seemingly escaped Cicrumtore’s conquest. The black iron plates made a proper scan impossible, but I had a clue as to their origin. With ‘black iron’ on Circumtore, it could be nothing else than the corpse of a god, harvested, harnessed, and turned to troublesome sluggin’ whims.
Whoever escaped in that fleeing fleet would be a problem in the future. They had a damned material at their disposal, now; divine death turned to an abominable advantage. Loathsome Malik’s corpse: now subject to whatever cruel innovation the escaped Shell Hutts could manage…
I would’ve much preferred all of that to wither and die with our conquest of Circumtore. Both the already dangerous Shell Hutts and whateverthefuck was up with the godly corpse they’d harvested on their way out.
Only time would tell how problematic that would become, though.
Only time… but visions in the Force, shone by stars, gave me a hint. Between fleeting blinks, I saw danger in the black behind my eyelids. Warrior Hutts with new weapons, new armor, and a new vendetta. A unified resistance from the Hutts, for once, rallied by a Shell Hutt with only victory on his mind.
Across a hundred battlefields, I saw a legion of dead black iron, chained and clad in the corpse of a god, standing against the Gonk war effort.
Each Black Iron Hutt would be a terrible foe. The unity would be worse. We wouldn’t be able to count on these Hutts dividing themselves to be conquered. They’d be standing together, chained by black iron against the Gonk threat. From here, the Gonk-Hutt War would go hot, and we’d be facing organized resistance at every turn.
They were worrying visions. But divided or unified, the Hutts were still our enemy. We’d fight regardless for the slice of Hutt Space we were carving out for ourselves. All that changed were the details and the dangers.
Knowing we’d be fighting dead divinity forged into damned armor and weapons was enough; the Free Gonks would be prepared. The easiest battles of our war had come and gone with this change of fortune.
That was fine. Mostly. Workable, at least. War had been on the table since the earliest days of the Gonk movement. We’d been ready for this fight from the very start.
The fleeing fleet had escaped halfway through the week of Circumtore’s conquest. It didn’t affect the action much. Shell Hutt masters still flatlined after, just as they had before. The strike teams and the reinforcements behind continued to tear through the capital one sector, one legion, and a few Shell Hutts at a time.
We gave no mercy to Circumtore’s masters. Somewhat impressively, they didn’t ask for any. The snails were warriors to their last breaths, fighting until they fell flatlined.
Some managed to wreck Meks on their way out. Not many, with all our steel working in tandem, but some here and there. After the momentum was fully ours, the strike teams began to take their strikes in shifts. Those shifts allowed the damaged Meks to be pulled out and repaired, the elites of the strike teams to get a few hours of sleep, and the rest of the eager crusade the chance to get in on the action.
Smasher was, as always, the exception to that strike shift schedule. He didn’t let up on the violence for a moment. His team actually started taking shifts around him, with MaxTac Meks rotating so they always had eyes on their greatest murdering rival.
Shaitan was a boon to MaxTac there, using his steel full-borg nature to keep up with Smasher. He acted as a sort of second-line handler for when V’s ‘pathetic meat’ needed a break. By the end of his first shift ‘handling’ Smasher, I was pretty sure MaxTac was looking to adopt him.
Unfortunately, full-borgs who could flatline around the clock were rare. The rest of our elite strike teams had too much ‘pathetic meat’ to pull off the same feat. They rotated in and out of the action to keep themselves and their equipment fresh.
Becca, in particular, returned from her extended first shift with a wholly new coat of paint on her steel. Her pink and white, bunny-esque Mek had been dyed an ugly green-brown with sluggin’ blood. That did nothing for the unshakable grin that she sported when she popped out of its cockpit, or the violence-induced thirst she rushed me with while her Mek was repaired and repainted.
… She took her first shift break under me, doing her best impression of a pretzel with her feet fully behind her ears.
For a rimbo like Becca, there was no better aphrodisiac than preem violence.
Still, even with the action being taken in shifts, it never fully let up. Not when I had so many people volunteering for it back at the base camp.
Most of the Freest Legion forces were content to guard and look after their newly freed siblings from Circumtore’s slave legions. But the Gonk side of the crusade was eager; I couldn’t have stopped them from joining the fight in the capital if I wanted to.
When those Gonk reinforcements clocked in to the action, they did so with overwhelming force to replace the Mek support the strike teams enjoyed. Whole edgerunning gangs and corpo samurai companies, all with something to prove and Legends to make, took on one sector at a time. They were more than willing to pay for those Legends with their lives, a strangely selfish mirror of the Freest Legion’s willingness to sacrifice for their chained siblings.
And they certainly did pay with their lives. Even preemly equipped and eagerly prepared, those fights were intense every time. Shell Hutts were nothing to take on lightly, especially if you didn’t have steel to call upon for back-up.
They were trained to tear through fodder, through ‘lesser beings’, with the (almost) unrivaled advantage of their shells. It was up to the Legend-seeking reinforcements to prove they weren’t just that.
Hundreds of groundpounders against single Shell Hutts, and the fights were still asymmetrical in the snail’s advantage. We figured it out, rolling in vics and air support to make up for the lack of outright steel. But it was still much slower progress than the steel strike teams saw. Of course, that made every victory matter that much more to the groundpounding Gonks.
A successfully zeroed snail without steel support was a boast like nothing else. The Gonks who survived to clock back out added Legends to their rep, even if they were shared.
The crusade continued like that throughout the week, interrupted only by the fleeing fleet. Other than those escapees and the future troubles they would bring, we took Circumtore’s masters apart piece by piece.
The capital fell apart, and then, it was up to us to rebuild it.
For the first few Circumtore days, we were lucky enough to avoid the world’s infamously extreme weather. That changed mid-way through the week, coincidentally right after the fleeing fleet slipped away with their worrying harvest. Then… It was like the world came unchained.
A storm struck through that first night after the escape.
Terrible hurricane-force winds, pelting hail and sleet, and enough lightning to turn the night into day. We had just enough time to see the storm coming, David calling it in from orbit, and evacuate the crusade’s base camp. The crusade moved into the safety of the capital, taking shelter beneath its weather shields.
The action continued through the unchained weather, now with a backdrop for the ages. The sky was lit with a constant network of pulsing lightning veins. The city’s weather shield was made continuously visible by the forces striking it. And beneath that shield, Shell Hutts still flatlined.
I was able to get in on a bit more action now that the crusade was all in one place. I needed the chance, using it as a break from all the other work to be done. Tens of millions of newly-freed slaves didn’t just handle themselves. Even if our Freed supporters had them well in hand, it was a process.
Support was distributed beneath what would be the storm of a century on any other planet. Anything the newly-freed slave legions could possibly need, all freely given in Mighty Leia’s name. Food and water, shelter and clothing, and perhaps most importantly, the simple camaraderie of souls who shared tragedies with the slave legions.
The heavy, chaining influence of Loathsome Malik’s corpse was already fading. David went to check it himself after the escape, and reported to me that the source of this world was now gone. Huge portions of it had been stripped away, black iron skin and flesh and bone. What little remained was breaking down to dark nothingness. And the consequences were immediately apparent for Circumtore.
“It’s not malicious,” Fay told me, her sensitivity tuned to the max to assess those consequences. “After so long under chaining corpse-influence, everything in its former orbit is now free. Reality reacts to that, not just the slavish order of the world but its very physics, too.
“Expect much more weather like this until it stabilizes. And… worse, potentially. Weather, unchained; geological activity, unchained; tides, unchained; even the very gravity and rotational force holding this artificial balance, unchained. Circumtore bucks against nothing now, after so long held in place by dead black iron.”
“Is it lost to us? This world?” I asked.
“Not nearly,” Fay chuckled. “A world doesn’t just fall apart, even one artificially created and carefully balanced like this one. Circumtore will just be… interesting for a while.”
There were benefits to that ‘Grand Unchaining’, too. The heavy mental influence over Circumtore’s population was breaking, already brittle black iron rusting to dust on terrible winds. The slave legions were beginning to remember Mighty Leia all on their own. For the last five thousand Shell Hutt masters, their legions turned on them more often than not.
The broken states we’d found on Circumtore weren’t natural, even for the heaviest chains. They’d been reinforced by the ever-lingering influence of the First Slaver. And now that that corpse had been harvested to nothingness, Mighty Leia’s stars shined strong on this tortured world once more.
When Big Red and I got in on the action — Fay still riding along with us — we dropped in on a slave legion revolt. That legion was gilded in silver and gold, obviously belonging to a wealthy Shell Hutt master. That wealth did little to save them when the slaves who’d been trampled and broken for so long began to stand under their own power.
They were rebelling and dying en masse when Fay and I arrived. Their Shell Hutt master, in their golden shell, tore through their own legion with barely a thought, but certainly a few cares.
“What is this?! What is this?! What?! WHAT?! WHAT?!” They seemed stuck in a loop, barely able to process the idea of broken slaves rising up.
The gilded slaves threw themselves at their master. The Shell Hutt master cut them down with sweeping barrages of heavy blasterfire. And still, the gilded slaves swarmed.
Big Red dropped right on top of the golden Hutt. Weight and force dented gold. A massive fist of red steel punched through the golden shell. Repeating blaster bolts emerged from beneath the fist, penetrating straight to sluggin’ flesh.
The golden Hutt roared in surprise and pain. Their gilded slaves clambered all over their shock-struck form. The spirit was there, and respectable, but they were just getting in the way.
“Remove them for me,” I requested of Fay. “Gently. I need space to work here.”
Radiating peace and reassurance, Fay did as I asked. The Force plucked up a dozen gilded slaves as gently as a mother cat corralled her kittens. The slaves raged, rightfully, but they couldn’t hope to crack the shell like my steel could.
I drew Big Red’s fist from the gaping hole punched in the snail’s back, snatched a thermal detonator from my Mek’s belt, and shoved it back in through the golden Hutt’s ribcage. I kicked off. I pulled upon the Force. With a great heft, Hutt and golden shell were thrown into the air in time with the thermonuclear detonation.
“Look. Away,” I growled out a warning.
Fay helped there, gentle Light wrapping around the slaves’ eyes as blindfolds of peace, compassion, and healing. In the air and within the golden Hutt, the thermal detonator ticked over. Contained within the detonator’s particle-field-enforced blast radius, a short-lived star was born. There was a brief building whine, an awesome flash, and the golden Hutt was no more.
Fay’s Force Light blindfolds faded into flitting sparkles and warmth. The slave legion, having partially broken their own chains, stared up at the empty space their master had just occupied. Then, those stares transitioned to Big Red’s imposing and victorious frame.
Wariness didn’t last long, not with Fay to smooth things over.
“One more down for the count,” I reported my zero to Nova while Fay reassured and comforted the gilded slave legion, what remained of them after their costly revolt. “Sector B-3, Undercity. It’s clear, little spark, but I’m gonna be moving on quickly here.”
“Roger roger, Father,” Nova replied. I could sense her amusement at imitating the famous B1 verbal tic. “I shall relay your victory. Freed support won’t be far behind.”
“Say, Nova? What’s Smasher’s record here for flatlines per hour?” I asked.
“49, Father,” Nova answered.
I smirked slightly, “… I’ll get 50 before my shift is up.”
“Do you need help locating sectors and Shell Hutts who haven’t already been cleared?”
“Nav-assistance would be helpful, yeah. If you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying.”
“… Noted and recorded, Father. I shall enter that lesson into my code.”
I didn’t bother to hide the pride in my reply, “That’s my girl. Now, let’s pick up the pace. I’ve got a record to beat before all my other duties catch up to me.”
Big Red rose from that sector in the capital’s undercity at my direction. The sky came into view through the weather shield, and lightning struck.
As far as the eye could see, crisscrossing patterns of vicious electrical discharge illuminated dark clouds — threads of silver sewn into rippling black silk.
“The Unchaining of Circumtore, as literal as can be…” Fay muttered at the humbling sight — nature, unchained. “Has there ever been a more truly, truly awesome scene?”
“It’s what the weather represents, too,” I agreed. “We’re doing good work here. Even the world can see that.”
“It pays homage to our breaking of chains. It heralds the change that is now free to come,” Fay nodded. “Here, damnable influence dissolves. Elsewhere, it persists, still. Will you answer the call of chains that need to be broken, Atom?”
“… Always.”
IIIII
— Fay —
It was a strange thing to see how quickly change could be wrought when one was willing to accept any consequence and press onward regardless, Fay thought.
Affecting reality around oneself was a simple thing, always. It happened with every breath, every shift and stir, every action, taken or not.
But so many tried to make it the opposite, overly complicating things with worries and anxieties, well-intentioned or ill, to the point of investing more energy to do nothing than if they’d just done something.
The ‘status quo’ was an inherently terrible, fundamentally unnatural concept. It staved off change — progression or regression — by any means necessary. It choked the core truth of life’s development. For better or for worse, things must always change eventually.
Here on Circumtore, things were changing. Everywhere Atom and his Gonk movement touched, things were changing. It was part of the reason Fay had chosen to commit herself to Atom’s cause. And she wasn’t immune to the shaken status quo, either.
For so long, years upon years, she’d wandered the galaxy alone. It was her calling in the Force, to aid real people with real problems. She didn’t regret a single moment of her wandering, no matter the troubles she’d faced. But there was something to company as well, especially when that company didn’t preclude true change in the galaxy.
The Order she’d been all but born to had stagnated. It relished in the status quo, their comfortable place in the galaxy. If they were the company Fay sought, she would last a year in that enforced status quo. As much as she hated to admit it, there was little for her in the Jedi Order these days.
Fond memories, a junior risen so high, and shared nature as servants of the Force, but those qualities paled in comparison to the Order’s inaction and stagnation.
With Atom and his Gonk movement, Fay found the very opposite. Action, always. So much accomplished in such a short time. A rejection of the very concept of ‘status quo’. Consequences willingly accepted, for good or for ill, so long as something changed.
Committing herself, Fay found herself with the chance to be part of something revolutionary.
Committing herself, Fay found that she was valued, instrumental in something greater.
Committing herself, Fay found a home for herself in the short year it had existed; she found something so full of potential and those willing to rise to any occasion.
Even Fay, for all her talents and all her sensitivity to the flows of the Force, couldn’t have predicted how events would develop around Atom and his Gonk movement. He was pure potential in motion, and she thanked the Force every day that she hadn’t chained him with prophecy when she first arrived.
‘Fuck prophecy,’ He had said.
The words still resonated with Fay, returning to her mind again and again.
Not for their crudeness, nor their disrespect; they resonated for the Spite Atom lived by. The vehement refusal to let himself be so limited, so chained, even by Force and Fate. It’d been impressive and eye-opening, back then, a new perspective for Fay. But as she spent almost every waking second with him since, she saw him live up to that Spite.
His every feat was unchained, and that much more potent for it. His every action affected true change, limited by nothing, and their ripples were more real for it.
In a way, Fay realized, prophecy was just another abhorrent status quo — one set to the future, not the present — and Spiting such a thing was what made Atom so worthy to follow, so effective as he set out to change the galaxy.
The prophecy she’d first come to Atom with had faded from her mind. She was glad for that. Fay wasn’t needed here as an Oracle; she was needed as an actor, a guide, and as her own person, not merely the Voice of the Force.
From undercity to kajidic-conquest, from Night City to a whole free moon, and from the moon to the void beyond, Atom had risen so far. Everywhere he went, potential unchained, he brought change, unashamed and unrepentant.
Atom, in all he was, stood Spitefully against any concept of ‘status quo’.
Circumtore was no exception.
The status quo of this world, chains and corpse-influence, shattered upon his arrival. Fay saw it with her own eyes in the Force. His pure potential, so very freeing, was infectious.
Circumtore had suffered countless centuries of the same stagnating black iron chains, and it would’ve suffered centuries more. Then, Atom arrived.
He was, Spitefully so, and the ‘way of things’ found its hold broken.
There would be no ‘more of the same’, not when pure potential came flapping wings of glorious change. A thousand million new paths of fate splashed onto the tapestry of the Force. Atom, as naturally as he breathed, grasped his own from those splashing paths. Then, Spitefully, he set about making it a reality.
Watching him work, watching him be, was awesome, Fay thought. Truly awesome. Nothing stood in his way, not consequences, not chains, not corpse-influence; there was only change, and Atom always sought to make it his own.
Here, once more, he succeeded. Through violence, yes, and with consequences to inevitably come, yes. Fay didn’t always agree with his methods.
But she did agree with the change he brought and left in his wake.
Circumtore was upheaved and overturned. Its masters were slaughtered, and its dark secret was broken. The light of stars reached it after millennia under black iron. Tens of millions of slaves were left unchained. The whole world was left unchained.
With those changes came a great many new considerations and much work to be done.
Circumtore would not be abandoned to its upheaved, overturned chaos.
Its masters would be buried, and its dark secret would be forgotten.
The light of stars now reaching it would be nurtured and held close.
The unchained — mortal and world alike — would be welcomed into Gonk Space, anathema to previous chains; they would be free to live and rise and change.
With victory, with change, came the effort of millions, billions, determined to make the new outlast the old. Circumtore’s slave legions took over the world they’d been chained to, guided through the process by Free Gonks who’d already done the same for Free Nar Shaddaa. This broken system couldn’t simply rebuild; it needed to build wholly anew.
Bare days after the last Hutt of Circumtore fell, that process was already in full swing. Logistical aid, practical support, and experienced guidance, the formerly chained population would have all they needed.
Here, Atom took something of a backseat to the processes at work. He was best served as a catalyst, not the steady fuel that kept new fire burning. That was what the rest of his movement was for: competent allies who could take his potent breaking of the status quo and turn it into lasting differences.
Still, he kept watchful eyes over the building of a new Circumtore, not leaving the world just yet, even if he was likely feeling more useless than he would’ve liked. A space at the top of the capital’s highest spire was commandeered for Atom and those closest to him. There, the driving personalities behind the Gonk movement unwound in the wake of victory.
“Even here, dammit…” Atom grumbled to himself halfheartedly.
Stars of Our Stars was on.
Watching it together was becoming something of a ritual for the Core Gonks. When there was nothing they could do but ‘hurry up and wait’, the Twi’lek holo-drama was there for them to bond over.
It was a terrific program in Fay’s opinion. She couldn’t help but grow invested in Miyana’s adventures, so steamy and tragic and comedic and incredible. There was always another twist and turn of plot and character, another heartstring to pull or passion to enflame or mystery to ponder.
According to Dooku, Stars of Our Stars had even become a sort of unspoken tradition in the Order, with Padawans getting hooked on it by their Masters. Yoda apparently started said tradition, and Dooku claimed he’d been regularly shown the holo-drama as a ‘vicarious lesson in emotional control’.
… Fay would bet her Force sensitivity that her gremlin of a junior was just a genuine fan and had twisted his watching of the holo-drama into some attempt at wisdom.
Without her there, no one had the seniority to call him on it. Fay was almost tempted to go see the gremlin and do just that… if she didn’t already have other, very real concerns to talk to her junior about, that is.
“Eh, it’s not violence, but quality not-porn is almost as good,” Becca shrugged in response to Atom’s grumbles.
She’d draped herself all across his and Sasha’s laps. The two women looked like they were keeping Atom locked in place so he had to watch the ‘slop’ he claimed to dislike. They were weak claims, but he still kept up a grumbling outward appearance.
“If you’re still feelin’ restless, Atom, you could take Miss Elfie up to the roof to watch the weather, instead,” Sasha suggested.
Fay blinked, “… I’m not opposed to weather-watching, but this episode has barely begun.”
Sasha shot her a look that Fay couldn’t read for the life of her. She glanced back at Atom and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Curiously, Fay cocked her head slightly to one side. What could that be about…?
Atom furrowed his brow in thought, and Fay sensed anticipation rise within him. He stood, dumping Becca in Sasha’s lap. Sasha grinned like a cat securing its prey. Fay was almost worried by that expression…
“We’ll record it for you!” Sasha called. “For now, go have some fun on the roof, ya kooky kids~!”
Atom took her hand gently, and Fay allowed herself to be led. She was still trying to puzzle out what could have had Sasha pushing for private time between her and Atom.
Nothing immediately sprung to her mind, even as Becca and Sasha gave her knowing smirks, V gave her an encouraging thumbs-up, and Aayla looked… almost jealous…? That couldn’t be right…
What in the Force did all the women in the room have in mind?
The question lingered as Atom took her to the spire’s roof. Its answer eluded Fay, even with all of her lived experience. As they emerged into the open air up high, all thoughts but the sight above her left her mind.
The sky was alive. A storm like few others played out in full overhead. From the highest spire, they had the best view of it on Circumtore.
Clouds churned. Lightning struck. Balls of pure electrical plasma flitted in and out of existence. The wind was almost visible as it tore through the air. Cyclones formed from land to sky, pillars of nature’s awesome power. It was the unchaining of a world made manifest.
“Yeah,” Atom muttered to himself. “A scene like this is a good choice for a first time.”
“First time?” Fay asked.
“Fay,” Atom turned to her, blunt, straightforward, and mincing no words at all. “You’re amazing. Special like no one else. Purely good, a beacon of Light. You’re also divinely beautiful. And kinda fuckin’ dense. So I’m gonna lay this fully and explicitly on the table to get it through your head. I desire you. Carnally.”
It honestly took a moment for Atom’s words to hit her. But when they did, they hit dramatically.
“Oh… OH!”
The fluster struck first, and suddenly, Fay felt like her face was glowing. Her heart raced faster than it had in centuries, perhaps ever before. She could feel her ears fluttering up a storm to match the one above. A startled warmth stirred within her stomach.
And… she didn’t hate the feeling.
As blunt as Atom’s proposition was, it was also romantic in the strangest of ways. He didn’t hide his intentions in the slightest. Fay was the object of his desires. He wanted her. And he made that plainly known. After so long at his side, Fay could sense that his feelings for her were anything but shallow, especially now that they were spelled out right before her eyes.
To be so valued, so admired, so desired… Fay was far from immune. If anything, she was weak to it. It was novel and thrilling and oh-so-tempting, if Fay was honest with herself. Others had almost certainly desired her. But none of them had been so close to her, and none had been so bold.
Fay was completely virginal in the ways of love and lust. She’d seen so much of the galaxy, so much of life in all its forms, but nothing of romance for herself. She’d simply never found the right soul to explore such things with. But if Atom wanted to take their relationship to the next level… Fay thought she might be willing to try the same.
She waited for trepidation to emerge within herself. It never came. There were only flustering sensations — excitement and curiosity and flooding warmth — and even reciprocation that startled Fay when she recognized it.
Atom desired her. Fay, inexperienced as she was in this aspect of living… desired him, in turn.
How could she not value him when she’d seen all he was? How could she not admire a man who stood strong and Spiteful against all the galaxy threw at him, deadset on forging his own way? How could she not desire pure potential, infectious change, given form?
She might be a Jedi, but she didn’t cleave to the attachment-forbidding ways of the modern Order. Her time in the Order came before those new traditions, forced upon them by well or ill-intentioned souls who didn’t know what it was to be a Jedi.
Attachment, to her, was natural. Not just natural, but inevitable. And that was the greatest test of a Jedi — maintaining Light despite their inherently fallible and mortal natures. It was a test passed with moderation, not self-imposed ignorance; acceptance, endurance, and inner peace, not outright denial.
The Jedi of her time accepted the inevitable trials of life — romance and friendship, love and loss, emotions of all kinds spawned from events of all kinds — and found the Light through them. A Jedi who’d never experienced such challenges to their serenity and compassion was a weak one, liable to Fall at the slightest prodding.
And didn’t that say worrisome things about the modern Order…
Fay had never experienced love, lust, and romance for herself, but now that they came calling, she wouldn’t deny them. She would experience all they had to offer, and maintain her Light regardless. She couldn’t think of anyone better than Atom to face that challenge with.
“Atom…” She began slowly.
Atom listened patiently, making his intentions clear but not pressing them. Fay could turn him down, she knew, and nothing would change between them.
She didn’t want to.
“Atom, I… think I feel the same.”
“I know very little of… this, for myself. But that’s not rejection! I think I would like to learn! This is a moment of growth, I believe, and I won’t back down from the challenge! You’ll have to teach me, of course. Be my guide here, in a strange reversal. I think I’ll be a good student, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been this completely inexperienced! Why, I hardly know where to begin-!” Belatedly, after she’d started and couldn’t stop, Fay realized she was rambling…
Atom cut her off with a gentle step into her space. He didn’t loom over her much, but Fay still found herself tilting her head up slightly. Strong, handsome, desire visibly given and returned, Fay found that her rambling words failed her.
“You’re down,” Atom said. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
He gave her all the time in the world to react — to pull away or express second thoughts. Fay didn’t.
A warm hand cupped her cheek. Fay’s eyes fluttered closed on their own. She made herself open to his advances on some instinct. She felt the heat of his form — so close, so intimate — and a heat of her own rising to meet it.
Atom kissed her. Beneath an unchained sky, Fay too began to come unchained.
The lips against hers were softer than Fay expected. A part of her expected Atom to be rough, given his personality and strength. But all Fay could think was ‘Soft… Warm…’
Again, some instinct spoke, and Fay parted her lips. Atom deepened their kiss at the unspoken invitation. The heat within Fay grew hotter and hotter, sank deeper and deeper.
Tentatively, exploratively, her hands came up to rest on Atom’s chest. The muscles now beneath her palms were strong and hard, but paradoxically welcoming. Fay scratched lightly with her nails. She drew unknown designs on beskar canvas. Her hands ventured lower, mapping every flexing line.
Atom’s free hand found its way onto her lower back. With a swift and smooth motion, he scooped her up, spun her around, and set them both down. The kiss wasn’t broken for even an instant.
With a solid surface beneath her, Fay drew back slightly. She opened her eyes and saw Atom framed by the unchained sky above. Lightning struck like a halo around him, mirroring the electricity Fay felt within herself.
Daring, Fay took the initiative, trying it on for size. As she did, pulling Atom back down into another kiss, she discovered that she preferred to follow in this newfound dance.
She pushed that preference onto Atom through the Force. He understood immediately, framing her head with his hands and leaning deeper. With a thrill, Fay found herself dragged along at his pace.
This newfound dance, Fay quickly learned, was one of delicious contrast. Soft and hard. Gentle but intense. Burning heat driving thrilling chills.
With centuries of self-control, she allowed herself to feel, both physically and emotionally, but she didn’t lose herself to mindless revelry.
Fay wouldn’t Fall. But she didn’t have to limit herself to only unfeeling, unliving serenity, either. The Force was a glorious tapestry of everything that was. The Light was with her; it always had been and always would be. It didn’t begrudge her indulgence in moderation. If anything, experiencing more of what the Living Force could offer made Fay stronger, more whole, more alive.
“Atom…” Fay sighed into a lull in their kiss. “This is… fascinating…”
Atom chuckled in reply, “We’ll have to work on your dirty talk.”
“Dirty talk?”
“Verbal spice to the stuffin’ action. ‘Fascinating’ isn’t usually the best choice of words.”
“Apologies. I’m still learning; this is all still so new to me.”
“And I’m teaching. Just follow my lead, neh?”
“Hmn,” Fay gave a little hum of agreement. “You have my full focus.”
“You couldn’t not have mine,” Atom shot back, his lips smirking slightly against hers. “Kinda impossible to look away from an angel like you, Fay.”
Fay’s ears fluttered. She felt them do so, the traitorous things. Before Atom could notice (hopefully…), she kissed him again.
It began as an attempted distraction. It deepened — again — rather quickly. Fay didn’t even realize her hands were exploring his body. She almost jumped when they found his butt, firm and shapely, to pull him even deeper into their kiss.
Then, she felt his ‘lightsaber hilt’ throbbing against her stomach from above. She didn’t even have time to ‘jump’ with that. The building heat pooled just below the attention-catching ‘hilt’ surged.
Suddenly, Fay was panting; she had to break the kiss to catch her breath.
“G-Goodness…! Are they all so… hot and hard and h-huge…?”
“Now, that’s much better dirty talk!” Atom laughed.
Face glowing, ears fluttering, breath catching, all Fay could focus on was the weapon pressed against her.
“Ready?” Atom asked gently.
Nervous but willing, Fay nodded in confirmation. Just as gently as his question, Atom began to disrobe her.
Black silk fell from her shoulders, guided by touches that drew fiery lines on bare skin. Her heaving chest was revealed, breasts shuddering with each breath. Ghostly pale nipples reached diamond-esque peaks from porcelain pale skin.
Atom looked upon her with reverence, desire like Fay had never experienced. Down and down, he drew her covering black silk with both Force and fingers. He traced the swell of her hips and let the silk pool beneath her bared form. Every touch tantalized. Every awed twitch of his expression sent thrills to Fay’s very core.
She looked up at him, able but unwilling to suppress her excitement and arousal. Beneath an unchained sky, beneath a man anathema to chains, Fay would have her first time. Ready as she could be — eager, even — she sent those feelings to Atom in the Force.
Their minds touched. His feelings mirrored hers, desire meeting desire. He looked upon her as one might look upon a work of art — angelic, ethereal, and beautiful beyond objective measure.
Fay’s everything fluttered as she realized that.
Atom was not nearly as gentle about his own disrobing. Everything he wore, he tore away in a single, sudden flex of Force. Fay couldn’t stop the unseemly squeak that emerged as her partner revealed himself to her in turn.
“O-Oh my-EEP~!”
“Easy now,” Atom chuckled. “You might just make me bigger with flattering reactions like that.”
“I-I may not have any experience in all of this, but you seem rather big enough already, Atom,” Fay whispered.
She was unable to tear her eyes away from the pillar looming over her stomach. It cast a shadow. It was great and terrible and awesome, a force of nature just like the unchained storm above.
Fay didn’t know if she could handle it, much less take it within herself. Yet she couldn’t help but want to try.
Slowly, as if approaching an untamed beast, Fay reached for Atom’s pillar. An exploring caress first, just to make sure it wouldn’t actually bite her, before she took it more firmly in her hand.
Atom groaned with her touch. The sound sent a shiver throughout the whole of Fay’s bare body. The strong and solid pulse beneath her fingers that followed drew a moan from Fay to match Atom’s groan.
Atom lowered himself atop her until their bodies were all but intertwined. Fay’s hand still held his pillar, now pressed between their stomachs. And below, she simply knew she was ready; eager and dripping, her body almost desperately reacting to Atom’s.
Understanding and commitment passed between them in the Force. There was no going back now, not that Fay even wished to. Atom shifted his hips, positioning himself at her entrance. Fay guided him in as he thrust.
Contrary to Fay’s expectations, there was no strain. No pain. No struggle, or difficulty, or discomfort at all.
Just yielding acceptance. Just a pleasantly intense stretch and breath-stealing fullness. Just steady penetration and connection.
It was natural. It was instinctive and right. It was a celebration of Life, the Living Force, set off in fireworks behind Fay’s fluttering eyelids. She hadn’t realized how much her body was craving primal union until she and Atom slotted so perfectly together.
Every flex, every clench, every quiver and quake, every shudder and shiver, pulsing heartbeats synced in the physical and euphoric minds synced in the Force. Still, Fay did not lose herself, nor did Atom.
Sensation and connection, they experienced each other. Their bodies were conduits for their souls to share in each other’s presence. And there was peace in that, Fay realized, just as there was passion.
Light and Dark, Living and Unifying, the Force was all, and it flowed through their union. Atom began to move, drawing himself out — passionate sensation — and pushing himself back in to the hilt — peaceful fullness.
It was physical revelry. It was spiritual enlightenment. It was Balance. Fay rejoiced then, for even after a millennium lived, there were still new things for her to experience. Living, Unifying, Balancing, there would always be more to the Force.
Here, under an unchained sky, in enlightening ecstasy, Fay herself came unchained.
“Force…! Force! FORCE!” She cried her unchaining to the sky above.
“Force,” Atom grunted in agreement, driving himself within her.
“Atom! S-Something’s coming!”
“Let it come.”
“Oh, FOOOORRCEEE~!”
Ecstasy as she’d never felt before drove her mind, her body, her very soul to greater and greater heights. It was as if she were made for whatever was coming. Deep in her immortal DNA, instincts rejoiced with physical pleasure.
Her ears flapped up a storm. Her breath caught in her chest, heaving breasts against Atom’s chest. Shocks of pleasurable lightning raced through her nerves. For the first time in centuries, Fay’s control lapsed.
And it was glorious.
In the Force, Atom caught her lapsing control. He held her tightly to her own Light. He took her passion unto himself, staving off the Dark with pure Spite. Fay would not Fall, for Atom would catch her.
Light and Spite rode the waves, the storm of sensation.
Pure Living Force surged, the current deep and strong and primal.
Balance was found and maintained through exalting ecstasy, the Force joining them in pure connecting communion.
They had nothing but each other, unchained under that unchained sky. They needed nothing more. Together, one in flesh and Force, with glorious friction and tightening sensation and an experience shared, Fay and Atom found perfection in pleasure, in peace and passion intertwined.
Liquid heat gushed. Something gloriously solid answered, damming and releasing the flood again and again.
Fay’s heart raced with Atom’s. Her very being sang his name, and his sang in duet. They strove to complete each other in any way they could.
Her soul rose to cradle him close to her ethereal breast. His body held her just as close, even as he continued to move, continued to introduce her to nirvana.
A driving pillar within. A silken embrace of dripping, gripping, and yielding inner walls. The simple ease of union, natural as can be. All for them. All for Fay and Atom, fulfilling nature’s purpose beneath nature unchained.
It was beautiful. Awesome. Natural and right. Primal connection, elevated through the Living Force. It was… too much.
Fay, coming again and again, held Atom close. She begged through the Force, words unneeded. She couldn’t take much more for her first time. Thankfully, Atom took pity on her.
He drove himself deep one last time and held himself there, Fay fully embraced. That glorious pillar throbbed inside her. Her inner walls pulsed and clenched, holding tight, in reply.
A rush of heat filled her, the climax to their union. Mind, body, and soul, Fay welcomed the heat. She welcomed Atom. Physically and Forcefully, their connection rose without end. Any height, any at all, was within their reach in that moment. Together, they came to something special.
With such climactic passion came climactic peace, too. Fay sank herself into it, strengthening her link to the Light. She felt as if she could sprout wings then and there, and fly into the unchained sky above.
“Oh, Force…” She sighed in the blissful aftermath.
“Hell of a first time-…” Atom began before cutting himself off.
“… Fay?” He asked.
“Hmm~?” Fay hummed, content with her eyes still closed.
“You have wings. And a halo. You’re also glowing a bit more than normal, even for you.”
Fay blinked her eyes back open, the words not quite setting in immediately. As she did, something shifted beneath and around her. And Fay felt that something shift.
Confused, that something moved as she willed it to. It rose to encircle Atom, and Fay saw that he spoke only objective truth. Wings, moving at her direction. Clad in white feathers and Light, they became the shell of her union with Atom as Fay tried to parse ‘what and why…?’
“I… certainly do… This is strange, Atom. I’ve never had wings before,” Fay said.
“… Damn magic cock,” Atom swore to himself. “First, a Nova. Now, an Angel for real… This is probably my fault. Somehow…”
“Somehow, indeed,” Fay hummed. “They… feel comfortable, though. Right. I don’t think I mind them. Do you think the Force will allow me to fly upon them?”
“Want to find out?”
“I do feel the need to stretch them, strangely enough…”
“Alright, just hold me tight and don’t let me fall.”
“Never, Atom. You didn’t let me Fall, so I shan’t let you.”
They stirred from their union’s aftermath. Somehow, Fay found herself holding Atom as one might hold a princess. He didn’t seem embarrassed by the position, leaving the blush entirely to her. They must’ve made for an amusing scene: the big, strong Head Gonk in his blushing Angel’s arms…
Once, Fay flapped her new wings. Twice. The wings themselves weren’t what carried her when she began to rise. That was up to pure Force and pure Light, bending over backward to lift her on newfound wings.
Unchained, Fay flew. It was as if she’d always been meant to fly. All the better for her beacon of pure Light to guide those in need, now from on high.
If these were the benefits of pleasure long overdue, she would have to try for countless more pairs of wings, Fay thought.
With Atom as her partner, the prospect was a thrilling one. Fay had learned of desire given and returned, of the balance of shared union — peace and passion and souls intertwined. Now, she never wanted to go back.
She could attempt to fly all she liked; she knew he would catch her should she begin to Fall.
IIIII
AN: Just a heads up, I’m probably going to be discontinuing the bonus pics from here. I started them ‘cause I was young and horny. I’m still young and horny lol, but I do think I’ve outgrown it. I’d like to hope you’re all here for my writing, not the horny pics, so it shouldn’t be too much of a loss.
Maybe I’ll start up chapter cover pics or just… focus more on pics relevant to the writing. I do like finding and sharing pics. Just not only ‘pure horny’ bonus pics anymore. I guess I’m just trying to take myself a bit more seriously (not too seriously, but you get it).
In other news: yes, this is the last KYBER-PUNK chapter for now. I have plans for the inevitable return, but I need something a bit different. And I have made my decision.
I’ll be starting a new story here soon. ‘Greater Wyrm’, my capital-D Dragon in Worm idea. Planning and figuring out everything for that story is already in full swing for me. So stay tuned, it’ll be coming soon :]