Chapter 9: Unleashed

The Sail Barge trembled as it came to a halt, and Slave Leia opened her eyes in time to watch the land skiffs positioning themselves in a great semicircle around the edges of a huge pit in the sand. She stepped to the edge of the throne, craning her neck to look down—and her eyes widened when she saw what lay at the bottom of the pit.

An enormous, brown cone of living flesh was nestled in the middle of the pit, its apex a ragged hole of leathery flaps. Staggered above it were concentric rings of hard flesh, each lined with downward-pointing spikes-undeniably fangs. Clusters of tentacles poked out of different points on the thing's periphery, sensing and recognizing the activity above, beckoning. The almighty Sarlacc was really a massive mouth in the sand—and it was waiting for its next meal.

And directly above it, Luke, Han, and Chewie were being ushered to the edge of their skiff.

Leia balled her fists at her sides, her heart thundering. Fleeting hope and despair vied for her mounting anticipation as she watched her friends being prepared for—

Be ready, came a voice in her head.

Luke? Leia had to suppress a smile as his Force-voice entered her thoughts. She looked out across the Sarlacc and saw the Jedi being ushered onto a plank that was extending from the side of the skiff…and the corners of her lips curled down.

Ready? She hoped Luke couldn't hear her thoughts.

Ready for what?

To watch him and the others die? To literally watch her old life perish…and her new life begin?.

She had a little doubt that Jabba's advances would quickly graduate into far more twisted, perverse, cruel, and even more loathsome actions. He would have Arica and other slaves "cooperate" with Leia, as promised by that tense episode back in the hangar. He would have his Slave Leia dance and strip for him. He would explore every square inch of her body with his tongue, hands, and tail. He would fuck her, again and again—and again and again, she would succumb to the sensation that he had awoken in her flesh, a sensation as powerful as it was primal: lust.

There had never been much lust in Slave Leia's old life, outside of occasional physical intimacy. But over a matter of days, the Hutt had drawn it out of her, bringing it to the surface of her body and soul—and was exploiting it for all it was worth.

How he had managed that was beyond her comprehension. After all, she'd only ever enjoyed sexual pleasure with men, not…

She found herself thinking about Jabba's tongue as it licked her breasts, the urgent grasp of his fingers upon her buttocks, the feeling of his fingers and tail up inside of her. She felt a horribly warm sensation form in the pit of her stomach and radiate out through the rest of her body, and she shivered with a resigned sigh.

Nearby, Threepio appeared, hefting a huge, heavy microphone. Jabba told him exactly what to say, and Slave Leia watched in dread as the droid moved before the windows.

"Victims of the almighty Sarlacc!" he said. "His excellency hopes that you will die...honorably. But should any of you wish to beg for mercy, the great Jabba the Hutt will now listen to your pleas."

"Threepio!" Han shouted, and the audience fell into amused silence. "You tell that slimy piece of worm-ridden...filth, he'll get no such pleasure from us!" As a collective chuckle arose, Slave Leia watched Han turn to Chewie and say something, to which the Wookee yowled.

"Jabba!" Luke called, stepping onto the plank. "This is your last chance. Free us, or die."

Jabba chortled thickly as Threepio handed him the microphone. "Move him into position!" he said, chuckling.

As a guard on the skiff pushed Luke towards the end of the plank, directly over the middle of the Sarlacc, Slave Leia's eyes widened.

Oh, Luke. Jedi or not, how could he possibly hope to back up such a boastful threat?

She bit her lower lip, waiting for the inevitable to unfold.

Are you ready, Leia? came Luke's voice.

Slave Leia thought nothing back to him.

No, she would never be ready for this new life.

She licked and pursed her dry lips…and waited.

"Put him in!" Jabba bellowed, and Leia closed her eyes, her heart stopping.

This was it.

When Luke died, there would be no hope. Han and Chewie would follow. And if Lando attempted to intervene, he would of course be captured and killed as well. The Rebellion would lose several key members in one afternoon, and it was easy to imagine that the Empire would take advantage of this, and would find ways to ensure their power across the galaxy—and all of this, all of their struggles to free Han, would have been for naught.

Now! Luke's Force-voice seemed to shout, and Leia opened her eyes—and gasped.

Luke was flying! At least, it appeared to be that way-he was flying through the air above the skiff, his body twisted in a graceful somersault as he easily cleared the heads of the confused guards beneath him, and the moment he landed between them, he raised an arm, his fingers extended. Something metallic glinted in the bright sunslight before his hand, and then lowering it, a green beam of energy appeared. No sooner had Leia recognized the lightsaber for what it was than Luke had begun to expertly swing it around, cutting into and warding off the thugs around him, knocking one straight down into the Sarlaac's perpetually open mouth.

A frenzied chaos began to unfold around the throne as his guests panicked, trying to figure out what to do. Jabba was shouting his fury, confused and horrified by the sudden turn of tables; he gave a few accidental yanks on Leia's chain, briefly choking her. People were running and screaming, shouting and shaking their heads at each other, totally unprepared for the sudden revolt. Among them, she saw Boba Fett's retreating form as he headed for the stairs-likely headed outside to try and stop Luke; but at least he'd not be here to interfere.

Leia turned back to the window, saw Chewbacca was now free and was helping fight off the guards; blasts from the Sail Barge were rocking the skiff, and—wait, where was Luke? Had he fallen?

Tensing, Leia glanced back at Jabba; he'd dropped the chain and was shouting at Bib to do something. Taking the opportunity, she jumped off the throne and ran to the window, squinting her eyes in the bright light that hit her; Luke had somehow managed to leap onto another skiff and was fighting off the guards there-and just then, Boba Fett landed behind him.

Leia, now! Luke's voice yelled in her mind, and old instincts kicking in, she turned back to the Sail Barge interior, once again torn with what she even could do.

She grabbed at her chain and sighed harshly; how would she be able to escape? Even if she were to try and join this insane rescue attempt, if she had somehow figured something out, there were guards everywhere—and preoccupied as they were, there were too many present. Someone would try to stop her if they saw her. Setting her jaw, she looked down at the chain and the decorative gold bands that pathetically covered her heaving chest, glittering in the sunslight—

They'll try to stop me if they see me, Leia thought, her thudding heart kick up a beat higher. She glanced up at Jabba's throne-and suddenly knew exactly what to do.

Leia found herself retracing her own steps from earlier as she jumped up on the throne before the Hutt, rising directly in front of his bloated form once again—but he paid no attention to her, his huge head twisted to shout at a nearby guard, his chubby arms jiggling as they thrashed about. Leia looked frantically for some kind of hard object, something big and heavy and—

Her eyes widened, and she leapt into action.

She ran up beside Jabba, who barely noticed as he hollered, sending thick wet gobs of slime splattering on the guards and his throne as he demanded an end to the coup.

She paused, realizing for a sick moment that she had to press herself against the Hutt in order to grab the microphone, which had fallen down beside him. But then she shrugged it off and assumed a haphazard slave's embrace, leaning down beside the Hutt's chunky arm to grab the cable from where it had fallen, then pushed herself back, pulling the slimy microphone out from beside his arm and twisting to the control panel. She lifted the microphone and swung it down through the air with a grunt and slammed it down on the throne's control panel with an electronic crash.

Now Jabba turned to her, still shouting, but before he could do anything, Leia smashed the microphone down on the controls again and again, sending up a shower of sparks, startling the Hutt—and then the lights all went out, throwing the Sail Barge into sudden near-darkness. In a heartbeat of frenzied cries and screams around her, Leia heard her chain jingle—and then knew exactly what she had to do.

Dropping the microphone, Leia pushed herself away from Jabba without interference. Stepping to the base of his tail, she planted her hands on its huge, heavily-muscled base and swung her lower body over it with a grunt, landing behind the confused, furious Hutt and rising to her feet. She groped at her chain's slack where it had trailed over the Hutt's tail, and hefting the heavy links, she hurled it up in the air over his head, then quickly tugged it back in. The remaining length of chain drew quickly up from where it connected to his throne—a perfect base to hold it nice and tight.

Planting her booted feet firmly beneath her, Leia gave a hard pull on the chain. Jabba's cry became a choked gurgle as she tugged again, harder, pulling it tightly against his wide, flabby throat. The Hutt leaned forward, gagging, and although Leia was rocked forward with him, she reached up and grabbed the chain closer to where it was wrapped around his fat throat, then pulled even harder.

Although she was much smaller than him, right then, she felt bigger—as big as a moon, a planet. She yanked even harder, choking him.

She thought of everything she'd gone through in the past couple of days, of all the terrible things he'd made her do, of all the humiliation, all the demoralization, all the disgust, all the pain and fear. The Hutt truly had begun to overpower her, worming and working his slimy way past her will—and had begun to break her from the inside out.

She knew it would be a long, long road to recovering from that—from all that he had awoken in her. But she would be able to handle all that, now. She had a second chance. She still had her old life. She was breaking the bond that Jabba had forced into her—and the control he had over her. She was setting herself free.

Setting her jaw, she gave the chain another hard tug. It had begun to dig between the doughy rolls massed beneath Jabba's chins, and his chubby arms, tongue, and tail thrashed pathetically about as she choked him. She could sense his struggle was almost over—but now was not the time to stop. Leia yanked harder and harder on the chain, choking him with all her might.

Jabba's phlegmy nostrils snarked, splurting out thick gobs of mucus, and his tongue thrashed wildly about, flinging droplets of slime everywhere. Cringing, Leia leaned forward, spreading her bare legs and ramming her pelvis up against the Hutt's back as she leaned over, grabbing the chain directly beside his neck as he took a final, gagging attempt at a breath.

Leia threw her entire body back, tossing her head back, a heavy roar escaping her gritted teeth as she delivered a final, powerful yank on her master's chain—and the Hutt died with a long, drawn-out series of gurgling gags and sighs.

Leia out a heavy sigh and jumped off his throne, the chain jingling noisily. I am not a slave. Not anymore.