* * * * *
Steve, Dan, and Mark watched as Captain Tocneppil brought the Nightshrike in for a landing. Ta'enka'erf (the Pho'pheahian mechanic) had kept his comm-link open so that his skipper could home in on the signal. And, thereby, bring the YT-1000 freighter in for a better landing in this pitch-darkness.
"I hate to admit it," said Mark: "But, that blue bat was right. She _is_ more advanced than the Spindrift!"
"Stands to reason," replied Steve: "She was designed and built--on a whole other planet--for interstellar travel."
"Big deal!" fumed Dan (the overly sensitive co-pilot): "He still didn't have to be so rude about it."
"Maybe blunt honesty is as natural, for his species, as breathing," added a fourth voice (joining the conversation from behind).
"Barry!" exclaimed Steve: "What are you doing out of bed?"
"Sorry, Captain Burton. But, I couldn't sleep. I'm still too worried about what might've happened to Mr. Fitzhugh."
"Well, if it's any consolation, those other two talking animals..."
"Logunn and Obmuj," Barry corrected him.
"Right. If anyone can track him down, in this pitch darkness, I sense it's those two."
* * * * *
Meanwhile, in one of the trailers of the Llebpmac Circus, a young woman with short, wavy blonde hair was gyrating back and forth in front of a full-length mirror. Wearing nothing more than a scandalously translucent red costume. Her name was Greta Gault. And, not too long ago, she had been the up-and-coming research assistant of a geneticist who had found a way to asexually reproduce exact replicas of living organisms, almost instantaneously!
Including two of those Little People that were always in the news.
Yet, those same Little People had ultimately brought about the destruction of the laboratory. Forcing her to join Ydarb's Circus as an abdominal ecdysiast* in the sideshow. Not that she had minded that, entirely! While her former employer had greatly--and refreshingly-- admired her for her brains, it was still nice for a girl her age to be appreciated for her looks. And, Mr. Ydarb had been _very_ appreciative!
That is; till he was driven into bankruptcy by all those tax audits. Audits that she had no doubt had been instigated by the SID as retaliation for not immediately turning in the Little People he had (briefly) taken captive. Now, look at her! Demoted, by the new owners, to beverage concessionaire.
Oh! If only she had a couple of those Little People as her captives, right now...
* * * * *
The Imperial speeder bike recondos had come to a halt. Initially intending to do so only as long as it took to give General Prilosec an update on their progress (or lack thereof). Then, they heard it. The tell-tale sounds of Corellian spacecraft engines!
"Sounds like it flew by overhead, in that direction."
The second recondo emphasized this point by gesturing behind them. The first recondo agreed, and directed his subordinate to follow him up above the foliage. There, they got a good glimpse of the receding freighter's exhaust ports (which, in this darkness, were lit up like a Wookiee Tree of Life). They were only halfway to catching up with it, however, when they suddenly got side-tracked.
Side-tracked by some more lights...from directly below them.
"What do you think, Sarge? Could it be the rebel encampment we were told to look for?"
"Only one way to find out for sure," replied the seasoned veteran: "Follow me."
They swooped down in stealth mode, and put their speeder bikes on hover, just to the right of what appeared to be a giant square sheet of transparisteel. Slowly, they moved forward, until they could each crane their helmeted heads around the corner for a better view.
"Sithspawn!" swore the second recondo: "Get a load of her!!"
"Quiet, you idiot!" hissed the older trooper: "With those giant ears, of hers, she might hear you."
"Are you kidding?" scoffed the rookie: "Over that weird music she's dancing to? I don't think so!"
Unfortunately, for him, his speeder bike quietly drifted in a one hundred eighty degree semi-circle, while the two recondos were preoccupied with their mild argument. Consequently, his reflection was in full view behind Greta's own.
Nor did she fail to notice this.
"I have to be careful," she thought to herself: "I have to time this just right. It's like an answer to my prayers!"
Thus, she slowly began inching backwards, away from the mirror. Holding her red translucent veil above her head as she did so. And, when she finally judged the distance to the open window to be close enough,...
...she struck.
The rookie recondo shrieked like a girl as he suddenly found himself being virtually netted by the gyrating giantess; speeder bike and all!
tbc
Giantess World
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the long delay. The Force finally eroded my writer's block.
Chapter End Notes:
*That's "belly dancer" to you and me. ;-)