Chapter 3: Damn the Wiles of Women
Will woke to the press of bodies.
Warm skin against his side, his back, his legs. The weight of an arm across his chest. Someone's breath on his neck. The smell of sex and sweat and five different women layered over everything.
His eyes opened to the dim light of the crew quarters. The chronometer on the wall read 0847 local time—Kashyyyk time, he supposed, though they were still docked.
Nayela was curled against his right side, her head on his shoulder. Tyvani sprawled across his legs, one hand resting on his thigh. Meyra pressed against his left, her face buried in his neck. Alyeni lay behind Nayela, one arm draped over both of them. Lunira had claimed the space near his feet, her back to the group.
Will stared at the ceiling and tried to process what he'd done.
He'd had sex. With five women. At the same time. Multiple times.
His face burned despite the fact that no one was awake to see it.
What the hell am I doing?
The question didn't have an answer. Or maybe it had too many answers, none of them particularly flattering. He'd been seduced. Manipulated, probably. These women had decided he was useful—powerful, naive, easy to control—and they'd made their move.
And he'd fallen for it completely.
Will extracted himself carefully, sliding out from under limbs and bodies. Nayela made a soft sound of protest but didn't wake. He grabbed the nanite suit—which had reformed itself into a neat bundle on the floor—and let it flow back over his skin as he stood.
The sonic shower was cramped and utilitarian, nothing like the bathrooms he remembered from Earth. He activated it and stood in the vibrating field, feeling the sound waves strip away sweat and other fluids.
He missed water. Missed the heat of a real shower, the pressure of spray against his shoulders, the steam filling a bathroom. This was efficient, sure, but it felt clinical. Sterile.
He thought about the women in the other room and felt his cock twitch.
Cold shower. I need a cold shower.
Except sonic showers didn't have temperature settings. They just cleaned. No punishment for inappropriate thoughts.
Will finished quickly and stepped out, the nanite suit reforming around him. He moved to the small dining cabin—really just a table and bench seats bolted to the floor—and sat down.
Time to figure out where the hell he was in the timeline.
Will closed his eyes and reached out with his technomancy. The ship's systems responded immediately, and through them, the holonet connection at the docking port. He slipped into the network like sliding into warm water, his consciousness spreading through data streams and information nodes.
The holonet was vast. Overwhelming. Trillions of data points, news feeds, entertainment channels, government databases, commercial networks. Will filtered it down, searching for specific markers.
Battle of Yavin. That was the only concrete date he remembered from the movies. The Death Star's destruction. Luke Skywalker's big moment.
He searched.
Nothing. No records of a battle at Yavin. No Death Star. No mention of a Rebel Alliance victory.
Okay. So that hasn't happened yet. Or maybe it never will, if I'm in some alternate timeline.
Will broadened his search. Jedi Order. Yoda. The Republic.
Results flooded in.
The Jedi Order existed. Yoda was listed as the Grand Master, leading the Jedi Council on Coruscant. The Galactic Republic was the dominant government, with the Senate handling legislation and the Jedi serving as peacekeepers.
Old Republic? No, wait—
Will dug deeper. Found references to the Trade Federation. The Naboo Crisis. A blockade that had been resolved through negotiation.
His pulse quickened. He searched for Naboo specifically.
Senator Sheev Palpatine. Representative for the Naboo system in the Galactic Senate. A rising political figure known for his moderate positions and diplomatic skill.
Will's stomach clenched. Palpatine. The Emperor. Darth Sidious.
He kept searching. Found a news article about Naboo's recent election. Queen Padmé Amidala, age fourteen, had been elected to her first term. The article praised her maturity and dedication to her people.
Fourteen. She's fourteen years old.
Will did the math. In the movies, Anakin had been nine or ten during the Naboo crisis. Padmé had been fourteen. They'd met, Qui-Gon had died, Anakin had been taken as Obi-Wan's padawan.
Then ten years later, Attack of the Clones. Anakin was nineteen, Padmé was twenty-four. The Clone Wars began.
Three years after that, Revenge of the Sith. Anakin fell. The Empire rose. The Jedi were destroyed.
So if Padmé is fourteen now, and the Clone Wars start when she's twenty-four...
Ten years. He had ten years before the galaxy went to hell.
Will opened his eyes and stared at the table. Ten years to prepare. To build something. To figure out what he was going to do with the powers he'd grabbed from the Sea of Creation and the life he'd stumbled into.
Ten years before Palpatine made his move.
"You're doing your power thing again."
Will's head snapped up. Nayela stood in the doorway, completely naked, her tan skin marked with faint bruises and scratches from the previous night. She stretched, unselfconscious, and walked toward him.
Will's mouth went dry. He tried to look away, failed, looked back. She was beautiful—all of them were, but Nayela had this confidence that made it impossible not to stare.
She noticed. Of course she noticed. Her smile widened, and she did a slow turn, letting him look.
"See something you like?"
"I—you're—" Will's brain short-circuited. "You're naked."
"Very observant." Nayela slid onto the bench across from him, leaning forward on her elbows. The position did interesting things to her chest. "You seemed to enjoy it last night."
"I did. I mean—yes. Obviously." Will forced his eyes up to her face. "Shouldn't you put on clothes?"
"Why? We're on a ship. Just us. And you've already seen everything." She tilted her head. "Unless you want me to get dressed?"
"No! I mean—if you're comfortable—" Will gave up. "What are you doing?"
"Talking to you." Nayela's expression shifted, becoming more serious. "You were accessing the holonet. Through the ship's systems. Without touching anything."
"Technomancy," Will said. "I can control and access technology. Machines, computers, networks. It's—it's one of my powers."
"Powers. Plural." Nayela leaned back. "What else can you do?"
"Biomancy. Healing, mostly. I can manipulate biological matter, but I'm still figuring out the limits." Will hesitated. "And I have these nanites. The suit I'm wearing. They came with the technomancy somehow. I don't fully understand them yet."
"But you're not a Jedi."
"No."
"You're sure?"
"I don't have the Force. I can't move things with my mind or sense emotions or any of that. What I have is different."
Nayela studied him. "What were you looking for? On the holonet."
"Information. Trying to figure out when I am. Where I fit in the timeline." Will rubbed his face. "I'm ten years before the Clone Wars. Ten years before everything goes wrong."
"Clone Wars?"
"A war that's coming. A big one. It's going to tear the galaxy apart." Will met her eyes. "I don't know if I can stop it. I don't even know if I should try. But I have time to prepare."
"Prepare for what?"
"I don't know yet." Will's hands flexed on the table. "I need to find somewhere safe. Somewhere remote. Build a base, figure out what I'm capable of, make plans."
"We," Nayela said.
"What?"
"We need to find somewhere safe. We need to build a base." She leaned forward again. "You're not doing this alone, Will. We're with you."
"You don't have to—"
"Yes, we do." Her voice was firm. "You saved us. You freed us. You gave us a choice when no one else would have." She paused. "And we choose you."
Will's throat tightened. "Why?"
"Because you're kind. Because you're powerful. Because you're naive enough to actually care about people you don't know." Nayela's smile returned, softer this time. "And because we have nowhere else to go."
"Your family—"
"Sold me." The words were flat, emotionless. "My parents sold me to pay off debts. I was fifteen. They didn't even say goodbye." She met his eyes. "I'm not going back to Ryloth. Not ever. You could drag me there in chains and I'd find a way to leave."
Will didn't know what to say to that.
Nayela stood and walked around the table. She slid onto the bench next to him, close enough that her thigh pressed against his. Her hand settled on his leg, then moved higher.
"If you'll have us," she said, her voice low, "we'll stay. We'll help you build whatever you're building. We'll keep you company." Her hand reached his crotch, cupping him through the nanite suit. "We'll make sure you never regret keeping us around."
Will's breath caught. He was already hard, his body responding to her touch and her proximity and the memory of last night.
"I—" His voice cracked. "I'd like that. You staying. All of you."
"Good." Nayela's hand squeezed gently. "Now. About clothes."
"Yes?"
"The only things I have are the rags they gave me when I was sold. Thin, torn, barely covering anything." She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "I'd rather go naked than wear those again."
Will's pulse hammered. "We can get you clothes. All of you. We just need to—"
He stopped. The slaver ship. They were still on the slaver ship, docked at Kashyyyk. And this ship was flagged in every database as a slaver vessel. The Wookiees hated slavers. If they realized what this ship was—
"We need to leave," Will said. "Now. This ship is in the Kashyyyk database as a slaver vessel. I spoofed the transponder to get us docked, but if anyone checks—"
"They'll kill us," Nayela finished. She pulled back, her expression shifting to concern. "Where do we go?"
"Alderaan." Will was already reaching out with his technomancy, accessing the ship's systems. "There's a shipyard there. Royal Engineers. They build luxury yachts. We can get a new ship, one that's not flagged. And there are shops. We can get you clothes, supplies, whatever you need."
"How are we paying for this?"
Will grinned. "I'm a technomancer. I can make credits appear wherever I need them."
Nayela laughed. "You're going to steal?"
"From people who won't miss it." Will stood, pulling her up with him. "Get the others. We're leaving in ten minutes."
She kissed him—quick and hard—then headed back to the sleeping quarters.
Will turned to the ship's systems and got to work.
The docking authority approved their departure in under a minute. Will had spoofed the request, made it look like standard traffic, and slipped them out of the queue before anyone could ask questions.
The slaver ship lifted off smoothly, its engines humming as they climbed through Kashyyyk's atmosphere. Will sat in the pilot's seat, his hands on the controls but his technomancy doing most of the work. The ship responded to his thoughts as much as his touch.
Behind him, the five women had gathered in the small common area. They were talking in low voices, occasionally glancing toward the cockpit.
Will set the course for Alderaan and engaged the hyperdrive. The stars stretched into lines, and the ship jumped.
Three days. It would take three days to reach Alderaan, with the route he'd plotted.
Will stood and turned to face the women.
They were all watching him. Nayela sat in the center, still naked. Tyvani had found a blanket and wrapped it around herself. Meyra wore one of the torn slave tunics, her arms crossed over her chest. Alyeni leaned against the wall, wearing nothing but a thin shift. Lunira sat on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest, a blanket covering her from neck to ankles.
"We need to talk," Will said.
Nayela nodded. "About your plans."
"About everything." Will sat down across from them. "I'm going to find a remote planet. Somewhere in the Unknown Regions, probably. Somewhere no one will look for us. I'm going to build a base there. A ship, too—something big enough to be self-sufficient. And I'm going to use my powers to gather intelligence, build resources, prepare for what's coming."
"The war you mentioned," Tyvani said.
"Yes. And other things. The galaxy is going to change in the next ten years. I want to be ready."
"And us?" Meyra's voice was quiet. "What do you want from us?"
"I want you to stay," Will said. "If you want to. I'm not going to force you. But if you stay, you're part of this. You help me build, you help me plan, you help me survive." He paused. "And I'll protect you. I'll make sure you're safe. I'll make sure you have everything you need."
"You're not a Jedi," Alyeni said. It wasn't a question.
"No."
"But you have powers. You can do things no one else can do."
"Yes."
"Then you're something else." Alyeni's eyes were sharp. "Something new."
Will didn't argue.
Lunira spoke up, her voice barely audible. "You really want us to stay?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I'm alone," Will said. "Because I don't know this galaxy. Because I need help, and you're offering it." He met her eyes. "And because I like you. All of you."
Lunira's cheeks flushed, and she looked away.
Nayela stood. "We've already decided. We're staying. All of us."
The others nodded.
"Good." Will felt something loosen in his chest. "Then we're doing this together."
Alderaan appeared in the viewport three days later—a blue-green jewel against the black of space. Will brought the ship in slowly, spoofing the transponder again, disabling the docking recordings as they entered the system.
The docking authority assigned them a hangar in the commercial district. Will landed the ship smoothly, then reached out with his technomancy and wiped the hangar's security footage. No record of their arrival. No record of the ship's ID.
The hangar was empty when they disembarked. Will had made sure of that.
"Stay close," he said. "We're getting you clothes first, then I'm finding us a new ship."
They moved through the spaceport quickly. Will led them to a commercial district a few blocks away, where shops lined the streets and crowds moved between them. He found a credit dispenser in an alley and reached out with his technomancy.
The machine's security was laughable. Will bypassed it in seconds, created a false transaction record, and dispensed a stack of credit chips. Enough to buy clothes, food, and supplies for all of them.
"Go," he said, handing the chips to Nayela. "Get whatever you need. I'll meet you back at the ship in three hours."
Nayela took the chips, then pulled him down for a kiss. "Don't get into trouble."
"I'll try."
The women disappeared into the crowd, and Will turned toward the nearest public terminal.
He had a ship to buy.
The Royal Engineers' shipyard was impressive—rows of gleaming vessels in various stages of construction, from small personal yachts to massive luxury cruisers. Will browsed the catalog through the holonet, his technomancy slipping through the shipyard's network like water.
He found what he wanted: a luxury yacht, mid-sized, with enough space for a crew of six and enough power to make long-range jumps. It was listed for sale, fully outfitted, ready to fly.
Price: 850,000 credits.
Will didn't have 850,000 credits. But he knew where to get them.
He dove deeper into the holonet, searching for accounts he could access. Most banking systems were isolated from the main network—too much risk of theft—but some older systems still had connections. Legacy infrastructure that hadn't been updated in decades.
Will found one.
A Jedi funding account. Tagged as Republic funding for Jedi missions. Designed to allow Jedi to hire ships, pay for services, purchase supplies while on assignment.
The account hadn't been touched in 387 years.
Will stared at the balance: 14,000,000 credits.
Why hasn't anyone used this?
He didn't know. Maybe the Jedi had forgotten about it. Maybe the encryption had kept it hidden. Maybe no one had needed it.
Will didn't care.
He transferred 900,000 credits to the Royal Engineers' account, tagged the transaction as a purchase for the luxury yacht, and created a false trail leading back to a dummy corporation on Corellia. Then he covered his tracks, erasing his presence from the network entirely.
The shipyard's system confirmed the purchase two minutes later. The yacht was his.
Will smiled.
He returned to the rented hotel room he'd secured earlier—a small, anonymous space in the mid-levels of Aldera's commercial district. The room had a terminal, a bed, and not much else. Perfect for what he needed.
Will sat down and accessed the holonet again. This time, he was looking for planets. Remote systems. Uncharted space. Somewhere in the Unknown Regions where he could build without being found.
He spent an hour combing through survey data, old Republic exploration records, and independent scout reports. Most of the Unknown Regions were exactly that—unknown. Unmapped. Dangerous.
But there were a few systems that had been surveyed and then abandoned. Too remote to be profitable. Too dangerous to colonize. Too far from major hyperspace lanes to matter.
Will found one that looked promising: a system with a habitable planet, minimal native life, no sentient species. The survey was 200 years old, but the data looked solid.
He marked it for further investigation.
The door to the hotel room opened, and the five women entered, laden with bags.
Will stood. "You got everything?"
"And then some," Tyvani said, grinning. She dropped her bags on the floor. "You should see what Nayela bought."
Nayela set her bags down more carefully. "Clothes. Makeup. Toiletries. Things we haven't had in years."
Will noticed one bag in particular—plain, unmarked, with something bulky inside. He caught a glimpse of rope and leather before Nayela shifted it behind the others.
His face burned. He looked away.
Nayela's smile widened. "Something wrong?"
"No. Nothing. I'm—glad you found what you needed."
"Oh, we did." She stepped closer, her hand settling on his chest. "We found a lot of things."
The other women were watching, their expressions ranging from amused (Tyvani) to curious (Lunira) to knowing (Alyeni).
Nayela glanced at them, then back at Will. "We've been talking."
"About?"
"About last night. About what happens next." Her hand slid down his chest, over his stomach. "About how much we enjoyed ourselves."
Will's pulse kicked up. "I—I enjoyed it too."
"Good." Nayela's hand reached his waistband. "Because we'd like to do it again."
"Now?"
"Now."
The other women moved closer. Tyvani's hands settled on his shoulders. Meyra pressed against his side. Alyeni's fingers traced his spine. Lunira hovered nearby, her cheeks flushed but her eyes bright.
"We have a new ship to pick up," Will managed.
"Later," Nayela said. "Right now, we have other plans."
She kissed him, and Will stopped thinking about ships or planets or timelines. He stopped thinking about anything except the five women surrounding him, their hands on his body, their mouths on his skin.
This time, it was different. Less desperate. More comfortable. They knew each other's bodies now. Knew what worked, what didn't, what made each of them gasp or moan or beg.
Will let them take control. Let them guide him to the bed, strip away the nanite suit, position him how they wanted. He was hard before they'd even started, his body responding to their touch and their attention.
Nayela straddled him first, sinking down onto his cock with a low sound of satisfaction. She rode him slowly, her hips rolling, her hands braced on his chest. Tyvani kissed him, her tongue sliding against his. Meyra's mouth found his neck. Alyeni's hands explored his body. Lunira watched, her fingers between her own legs.
They took turns. Switched positions. Tried things they hadn't tried the night before. Will came twice, his biomancy keeping him hard, keeping him able to match their pace.
By the time they finished, the room was a mess. The bed was ruined. Will was exhausted and sated and completely overwhelmed.
Nayela lay beside him, her head on his shoulder. "Still okay?"
"Yeah," Will said. "Still okay."
She smiled. "Good. Because we're definitely keeping you."
Will closed his eyes and let himself drift, surrounded by warmth and the soft breathing of five women who'd just changed his life again.
He had a ship to pick up. A planet to find. A future to build.
But right now, none of that mattered.
Right now, this was enough.