“Knock, And He'll open the door
Vanish, And He'll make you shine like the sun
Fall, And He'll raise you to the heavens
Become nothing, And He'll turn you into everything.”
― Rumi
G found himself in an observation blister, looking out at the stars. He wasn’t sure at first how he had come here, but he found himself tracing constellations lines with his fingers, but soon realized they were quite tangible and not so far away. There were lit candles in a circle, and the dome of constellation lines fell to the perimeter of the candles, and included the candles. He pushed against the lines, as if imagining them to be holograms, and yet they had substance.
“It’s interesting, isn’t it?”
G turned to find a man standing inside the circumference of the circle. G couldn’t decide if he had always been there or had just arrived.
“Forgive me,” G said. “But is this a dream?”
The man smiled. “It does happen, albeit rarely, that sometimes it is really difficult to discern between dream, different dimensions, or astral realms. If you don’t mind hearing my opinion, I find making the distinction irrelevant. I treat the characters in my dreams the same way I treat the people in real life, because it is all fiction,” he said.
“I find affinity with your conclusion,” G said. “Have we met before?”
“Again, the contextual social resonance of that question tends to rob us of being present in the ever now,” he said. “Can you allow for the past and future to not bind us and simply be?”
G blinked, seeking Force Awareness.
“You’re looking for something,” the man said. “Someone,” G said.
“No, you’re looking for something. You’re analyzing my statements looking for agendas and traps,” the man said.
“I don’t think I am,” G said.
“In that case, I would like to extend an offer of friendship,” he said.
“My name is Tryst.” G blinked, even squinting.
“That does seem to come with an agenda.”
“Did you ever have a friendship that didn’t?” Tryst asked.
“This space feels murky,” G said.
“Are you intentionally trying to cloud my vision?”
“You came into my space, Sir. You haven’t even introduced yourself,” Tryst said.
The accusation felt right. G nodded. “Forgive my intrusion. I am Preston G Waycaster. I am looking for my sister. Her name is Daphne.” G found himself wanting to look behind Tryst, Tryst stepped closer, purposely blocking sight.
“Let me be very clear on this point. She does not want to see you. She belongs to me, now, and you are going to have to accept that,” Tryst said.
G breathed, focusing. The reality seemed to condense and he and Tryst under a netting of constellations were more real than anything else in the Universe. G recognized Tryst’s assumed role as gatekeeper.
“She has become your apprentice?” G asked.
“Apprentice, slave, submissive, wife,” Tryst said. “All of these archaic nomenclatures that hint at a level of ownership and property rights are inappropriate when applied against living, free being. She is mine the way the air I breathe is mine and she has come to me in her own time and will leave on her own time and anything you try to do to interrupt that will only reinforce my hold on her.”
“That feels true,” G said.
“That’s what makes my lying so great,” Tryst said. “I lie while telling the truth. I don’t even twist it. I just tell it like it is and people buy into it and agree and later on when they are questioning reality, I only have to point back to what I told them and how they accepted. I find the truth liberating. Don’t you? Don’t you hate all the games the Jedi play? They tell half-truths, always from a certain point view. Hell, in many ways, they are as dishonest and secretive as the Sith they fought against. You know that. You’ve seen it. And here’s the thing, G. I like you. I really want us to become the best of friends. I want you to join me and change the Galaxy. We could use someone of your talent.”
“You want us to be friends, and yet, you block me from my sister,” G said.
Tryst sighed. “Yeah. Whether we become friends or not, that is now a boundary you’re going to have to respect. Any further attempts on your part to visit her, on any level, will bring you back here, to me. It will lead to your undoing,” he assured him.
“I think you underestimate my resolve in this,” G said.
“No, you’ve underestimated mine,” Tryst said, and out of nowhere he produced a lightsaber and struck G down before he even realized his entire inside had been illuminated by the purple of Tryst’s blade.
G sat up in bed. Freya sat up. “G?”
“What the fuck?!” G said, clutching his chest. His pain subsided and he began to reign in his breathing. “That hasn’t happened in a long while.”
“You found a new sparring partner?” Freya asked.
“Apparently,” G said.
“Friend or foe?” Freya asked.
“Interesting,” G mused.
“I can’t seem to make a distinction.”
“Oh, the best kind, then,” Freya said. “You should lay back and try to sleep. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”
G looked at her, wondering if he was still dreaming. Ever since being stunned, he was finding himself questioning reality. “How do you know that?”
“Sometimes, you talk in your sleep,” Freya said.
“Really?” G asked.
“Well, that can’t be good.”
“Especially if you spend the night with someone with jealousy issues,” Freya agreed.
“How so?” G asked.
“Who is Doty?” Freya asked.
“I don’t know. Who is Doty?” G asked.
“I don’t know. Someone’s name you called out before you woke up,” Freya said.
“Are you fucking with me?” G asked.
“Not presently. Would you like me to reengage?” Freya said.
“Sometimes I find our conversations confusing,” G said.
“I frequently experience that with humans,” Freya said.
“Would you like me on top?”
“Uh, oh, yeah, that would be nice,” G said.
For whatever reason, the trance always came easier during intimacy and he found himself floating up and beyond the mansion. It required a level of focus to prevent the full immersion into the ‘light of oneness.’ Indeed, it was almost as difficult to avoid that oneness as it was to avoid having an orgasm after reaching the threshold. He didn’t like the crudity of the analogy but it was the only one that consistently rang true and was the most likely to be understood by a broad range of beings. He balanced on the precipice of either going into ‘oneness’ or falling back to his body and finishing what they had started.
G felt the compulsion to go visit Shade. ‘Suddenly,’ meaning faster than the speed of light, faster than could even be explained by the existence of hyperspace, or intra-dimensional travel, G arrived directly in front of Shade. Like always, she was in the midst of being entertained, surrounded on all sides by people engaging in intimacy. All levels of intimacy. Her present estate consisted of a tower, with single ‘bedrooms’ arranged all around, proceeding down five floors and up five floors, and the doors were paper thin and allowed for the suggestive silhouette to be played out on their membranes. The planet Zeltros was pretty much nonstop play, but at Shade’s Palace, a hotel with the inner sanctum that made her the focal point of erotic energies, greatly increased her ability to channel sensuality and amplify it, which had people standing in line for one of her rooms.
Shade shuddered, “Oh! No way! Preston, my child, it is so lovely to see you,” Shade said. “Please, tell me you have come to play?!”
“Where’s your normal crew?” G asked.
“Licon can’t tolerate the level of play here, so he asked to be retired,” G said. “Keena is off shift. Let me introduce you to my new people. Wait, wait, wait… AH! Damn it, I lost it.
Right here, and in front of you, this tall, voluptuous, reddish, pink bombshell is called Callie. Oh, G, you should taste her. I swear she taste like an over ripe berry. To her left, this orange and big booty baby with blue hair is Esme. She can do more things with her forked tongue than anyone I have ever met.”
“I didn’t know your species had forked tongues,” G said. “It’s a latent trait,” Esme said.
“And this dark red, juicy number is Fern,” Shade said.
“I am feeling overwhelmed,” G said.
“Oh, baby, give in!” Shade said. “Give momma a lift.”
“I really need to talk to you, Shade. Business.”
“Lifting before business,” Shade insisted.
G sighed, closed his eyes, and gently lifted Shade off her platform with the Force. She writhed and rolled and shouted excitedly waving her short, stubby arms, with flexing hands grasping at air.
“Oh, raise us all!” Shade said.
G subtly flexed a finger and Esme, Callie, and Fern rose from the floor. As with all Zeltrons, they were telepaths, and they were sharing their experience with each other and Shade and transmitted their joy back to G, which was enhancing all sensations and emotions.
“Everyone, G!” Shade yelled.
The hand gesture was more obvious, and everyone on the eleven floors, the five below and the five above plus the floor Shade’s platform was level with, for a total of eleven, were lifted. The amount of feedback of intimately touching so many people who were already deep into the throes of passion nearly overwhelmed him, but he channeled it through Shade, and the when the energy peaked not only did everyone in the Tower suddenly arrive, but everyone in a half kilometer had an experience. G nearly faded away, but he refocus and sat everyone down gently.
“Oh my you don’t know how much I needed that,” Shade said, sounded existed. “We better hurry up and talk business becomes I am so going to sloth the rest of this day away.”
Esme, Callie, and Fern had to sit down, equally exhausted. All activates in all the room ceased, as people quickly faded into that pleasant slumber that follows extreme bliss.
“Oh, Preston, Preston, Preston,” Shade said. “What can I do for you? Do you want to spend time with one of my girls?”
“I think I just spent time with all of them,” G said.
“Oh, you just touched the surface of what’s possible here,” Shade said. “Telepathy enhances sensuality beyond belief. No secrets, no fear, just pure acceptance. The only crime here is not indulging, and people know when you’re ‘declining’ is for the wrong reasons. Not wanting is one thing, but not engaging because you are wanting it only on your own conditions, well, in a world of telepaths, you quickly learn to share or you’re invited to leave.”
“Yeah, um we need to focus on business. I don’t know how much longer I can stay awake,” G said. “Tell me everything you know about Jungin.”
“Oh, dear, Preston, please tell me you didn’t get on his bad side,” Shade said. “I love you and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I only know rumor. Is he reasonable?” G asked.
“He’s a Hutt,” Shade said. “Let me share a little secret. Hutts are fucking bat shit crazy. I don’t know what a bat is or why their shit is crazier than other shit, but Hutts take that shit to a whole new level. It makes us super smart and devious in our single minded pursuits to gain power and glory and riches. And that’s me generalizing about the Hutt population. Jungin himself, well, he identifies himself as male and though he has absolutely zero, zilch Force abilities, he thinks he is a Jedi because he believe you are what you eat and he has literally eaten Jedi raw. He has also has had the organs of Jedi’s grafted into his body, which do nothing other than feed his delusion that they do something for him. There is circumstantial evidence that he is a paranoid schizophrenic, as he has been known to talk to himself, and so it is likely he takes his hallucinations as further evidence that he is a Jedi of unheralded power.”
“Can you tell me how to get access to him?” G asked.
“Aw, honey, you don’t need him. You got me and I will never do you wrong because you do me so right every time,” Shade said.
“Shade, I am not meeting him in order to make him a business partner,” G said. “I intend to end him.”
“Oh, no way!” Shade said, shivering. “Oh, Master, baby, collar me and make me yours. You just pushed goose bumps down my whole left side. I am hesitant to tell you how to get in, because I love you, but then again, taking him out would allow me to expand business, and you did do pretty well against the Bloodhunters, so, alright, I am in, but I want credit for participation that comes with plausible deniability, but sufficient enough it will make the other Hutts respect me a little more than they do. I want them thinking twice about messing with my ventures. And, I want dibs on some of the routes.”
“I think we can come to an arrangement,” G said.
“Very well. Callie, there is too much to talk about and I am about to sleep, so transfer what he need to know from my brain direct to his brain,” Shade said. “Oh, and G, if we’re going to be partners, you have to take one of these girls as a personal assistance.”
“No, that’s okay,” G said, still sorting out the information dumping into his head. Sorting the Hutt out was a little difficult and it had unpleasant taste, which was softened a little by the taste of Callie’s mental signature.
“I insist, Preston,” Shade said. “All future business correspondence will go through one of our assistance. Trust me. They can code it in such a way even a Droid couldn’t sort it and, these three here, there telepathic range is huge.”
“Okay. You convinced me,” G said. “I’ll take two.”
“No way, Preston. Don’t be greedy. One is sufficient for any human,” Shade said.
“Well, I was going to give one to my Priya, and now that I think about it, sending one to stay with Jordeen might be useful,” G said.
“Yeah, I want three. One for me, one for Jordeen, one for Lestelle, and one for Priya.”
“Oh, well, that makes sense,” Shade said. “Which one of these do you want?”
“Do you girls have a preference?” G asked.
The girls exchanged glances and a quick telepathic game of rock, paper, scissors, lightsabers ensued; though it was in there head, their hands telegraphed the game. Callie won on the third round. She stepped forward and kneeled.
“Where would you like me to come, Master,” Callie asked. “Oh, no way!” Shade squeaked. “She did not just ask you that!”
“I don’t think she meant it the way you’re imagining she meant it,” G told her.
“It could mean whatever you would like it to mean, Master,” Callie said.
“Oh, I so love my tele-girls!” Shade squealed. “I don’t know why I didn’t come to Zeltros years ago.”
“If you don’t mind,” Callie said. “I get the impression that Jordeen is in a quiet, academic sort of place, and my friend Lexi would be very comfortable there. She is less boisterous than the average Zeltron. I expect Esme is more suited for the life on board a ship.”
“Think of all the lovely, lonely men,” Esme said. “And ladies,” Fern said.
“Ah! Indeed, ladies do serve on ships now,” Esme said. “Shall we play for it?” G couldn’t turn his eyes away. Shade laughed, knowingly.
“I never knew watching this game could be so arousing,” G said.
“Another round?” Shade asked.
“Of this game?” G asked.
“No, sweetie-P,” Shade said. “It seems unfair to me you haven’t gotten off. How about one for the road?”
“Ah, hell, I am not going to get any sleep now if we don’t!”
Adrianne Helters met G just beyond the Vault doors. She had the face and body of a model who could sell any product she held, and was dressed in a tight fitting, strapless, blue, elastic, shiny, plastic spandex like material that hugged her body the way the eyes of men wanted to. Her job was to sell to rich men, and the more they salivated the more they spent. She had the plastic, bob hair style, which was as blue as her dress, and her large, fake eyelashes fluttered a secret, subliminal code directly into the unconscious mind her prey which was as powerful as any Force command. It was the code that had G one the verge of surrender and submission. She took his hand affectionately, licking unreal red lips.
“Mr. Waycaster, it is so nice to meet you,” Adrianne said, drawing him closer to her and leading him. “We are so happy that you did the credit check online before coming, as it really helps guide us in offering you the best services.”
Adrianne led him to a private lounge where G was invited to sit on a couch. She sat on the footstool in front of him, crossed her legs, and leaned in, pushing her breast together as she reached to put her hands on her knees. The room was white. The furniture was white. It suggested everything here was so clean as to be sterile, but also left an open invitation to make things not so clean, in the same way pure snow invited footprints, or angel wings, or sensual rolls.
“I read that you were considering surgery, and you wanted to store some blood, because you’re opposed to the synthetic stuff,” Adrianne said. “And well you should be. Natural is always better. And your own is always better than even the closest compatible donor.”
“Help me understand something, though,” G said. “Why don’t more people chose your services over the synthetic prosthetics?”
“Bottom line, costs,” Adrianne said. “Most people simply can’t afford to clone body parts, and even those who do, people rarely have the foresight to plan in advance. So for example, if you lost your arm, it would take us about five years to grow a suitable arm. It would take us a year to grow you a heart. But, if you can afford it, you could grow an entire clone body, which we will maintain at optimum health, and should you ever have need, it’s there for the harvesting.”
“But what about its soul?” G asked.
“No soul. No brain. We inhibit the brain from developing so that it’s just a body, thereby eliminating moral issues surrounding you harvesting the heart if you were to need the heart,” Adrianne said.
“It almost sounds too good to be true,” G said.
“Well, it’s not perfect. It takes time to grow organs and the full body option naturally requires the most time. But transplanting technologies are here. We have in our employees the best of the best neural surgeons. We could literally transplant your brain into the clone body, should your situation be that desperate. Your options are, mechanical prosthetics, which work fine. You can get that service for practically free at any community clinic. Your next options is organ donations, which depending on compatibility, could require anti-rejection medication for the duration of your life, or, you could harvest from a clone of your genome and require no medication and decrease recovery times. We could even put your brain in the body of a younger you. But if you’re real adventurous, we could put your brain in the body of another body all together. You want to be female? We can make that happen. We could put your brain in a synthetic body and you live for centuries, or we could download a copy of your brain into a synthetic and you live forever. Most people prefer the organic body.”
“So, again, why is this not better known? I mean, I get the costs, but, cloning technology has been around for hundreds of years?” G asked.
“Yeah, the clone war put a bad taste in lay public’s mind about clones,” Adrianne said. “Contrary to popular belief, if we clone you, we’re not making another you. Even if we allowed the brain to develop, it wouldn’t be you. It would be a new person with a new personality. The Clone Wars wasn’t just cloning. They were mass imprinting and had regimental training to minimize divergence. And it was so not perfect. It had quirks. The neural maps of brains are never hundred percent the same. But at the time, believe it or not, it was cheaper than robotics and Droids, and it bypassed the fear of some hacker changing the code and turning armies against the users. Anyway, personalities are the result of nurturing, education, physical and social environments, but also, and most importantly, perspective, and that is why even the most perfect clone has some individuation in terms of neural mapping. Would you like to see a clone?”
“Is that possible?” G asked.
“Absolutely,” Adrianne said, uncrossing her leg in an enticing manner before getting up and leading him G to another room.
Adrianne led him to a room where bodies hovered over beds. Adrianne explained they hovered due to the beds pushing air out, the same technology that allowed burn victims to recover without sheeting’s sticking to wounds. The same tech was utilized to prevent people in comas from getting bed sores.
“They just float there all day every day?” G asked.
“Oh, no, no,” Adrianne assured him, taking him to the next room where clones walked mindlessly around the room, eyes open but unseeing. “We put computer interfaces in their heads so that we can walk them, run them, or just general exercise them. They have to be mobile for the best muscle strength. For improved muscle mass, we can put them on a centrifuge and spin them up to twice the normal Gs.”
G paused in front of one of the female clones. “She looks familiar,” G said.
“That’s an Emma Power clone,” Adrianne said.
“The Emma Powers!” G said, all excited.
“The one and only. No plastic surgery for her. Her secret to longevity is a full face transplant.
“She looks so young,” G said.
“No brain, no thoughts, no facial and forehead creases,” Adrianne said.
“And no laugh lines,” G remarked.
“Emma can always add those herself,” Adrianne said. “Come on, I will show you the bacta tank where we perform accelerated growth procedures.”
G resisted, transfixed by Emma Powers. “Hypothetically, if someone wanted to buy an Emma Powers clone, is that possible?”
“Emma Power’s image and genome is own by her estate,” Adrianne said, sadly. “Oh,” G said, sadly.
“If you want to look through our celebrity catalogues, there are some for sell,” Adrianne said.
“Yeah, that’s all right. I have just had a crush on Emma for about forever,” G said. He turned back to Adrianne wistfully.
“Sorry. I am just being stupid. Celebrity struck I guess.”
“Oh, honey, you’re not stupid,” Adrianne said. “It’s only natural to want to spend time with a crush. If you want some private time with her, I could make that happen.” G looked down, blushing.
“Sir, this is perfectly legal and acceptable. People masturbate. Some use their hands.
Some use toys. This is just flesh. It’s not a person. There is no brain and no feelings. This body has less legal rights than a Droid. I can provide you with a ton of scientific literate of the health benefits of being with a flesh and blood person who you have a crush on. This is so legit, I could charge your medical insurance for this service.”
“Really?” G said. “Absolutely,” Adrianne said. “Can it get pregnant?” G asked.
“Sure, if you want that option. If you sired a baby with any of the clones, we would offer you first chance to buy the adoption rights,” Adrianne said. “You should know, if you do take our services, we will own the genetic rights to your clone, to any off springs it might generate, and any subsequent generations. And because you’re a BioEnc employee, you will be afforded a discount, because we share a subsidiary. And, I know you only expressed interest in Emma, but if you are into kink, we have lots of other erotic, fetish flesh options, such as muscles only, no skin. A variety of aliens. I bet we have options you haven’t even thought of.”
“I am feeling a bit overwhelmed,” G said.
“That’s why I am here,” Adrianne said, touching his arm gently. “I am here to guide you through this process.”
“Yeah, I may just take my time in haggling so I can keep spending time with you,” G boldly flirted.
“You don’t have to haggle. If that’s what it takes to close this deal, I would be happy to spend time with you,” Adrianne said, deliberately stepping in closer to him, her touch moving fromn his arm, to his shoulder, to his lapel.
“Hypothetically speaking,” G said. “If there was someone I wanted to be with who isn’t here, who definitely wouldn’t consent to having a clone, could that happen?”
“Hypothetically, with the right amount of credit, things like that have been known to happen,” Adrianne said. “But, keeping it hypothetical, mind you. You might find your money better spent buying a slave on the black market.”
“Yeah, I am really not looking for a slave per say, but am open to that in general,” G said.
“Hypothetically, you didn’t really come here intending to clone yourself for spare parts,” Adrianne said.
G couldn’t step closer to her without stepping into her, and he did, bringing their bodies into contact. “I know exactly what I want, and I know it’s going to cost, and I am able and willing to pay,” G said.
“Does your want have a name?” Adrianne said. “Is this conversation confidential?”
“Just you and me, and staff, maybe the boss if your request is out of my reach,” Adrianne said.
“I want a breeding clone of General Leia Organa Solo,” G said.
Adrianne bit her lower lip, imagining the cost and the kickback that would come her way.
“You may be over reaching,” she said.
“I think I could get the genetic material, if that helps. What’s the minimum? A piece of hair from her comb or brush? Maybe steal her tooth brush?”
“Hypothetically, we would collect the material. We have Droids for that,” Adrianne said. “But why her?”
“The Skywalker family line is reportedly the strongest force sensitive family the Galaxy has ever known. Granted, there’s what four generations now? Maybe it’s a fluke. However, Leia is force sensitive. So is her son. I am force sensitive. I imagine if I could have a breeding clone of Leia I could produce a stronger batch of Force sensitive children. In fact, with test tube and artificial womb technology, I suspect within 15 years, I could have a small army of Jedi quality teens.”
Adrianne smiled. “I am sure this idea is not original,” she said. “Someone, somewhere has thought of cloning Force sensitives before. What makes you think your plan will work?”
“I am not going be making clones of clones, or just reusing the original template for many clones,” G said. “The original template has to be a breeding pair. Every egg , every sperm, is different, which means every combination is different, which means ever child will have strengths the original parents didn’t have, and they will be raised in an environment with someone capable of teaching them right from the start how to be one with the Force. And of those, the females who demonstrate the most Force will raise the second generation of Force babies, or their breeding clone will.”
“And if the Force genes are passed down from paternal side?” Adrianne said.
“We’ll use all the available reproductive means at our disposal to make as many Force babies as possible,” G said.
“And you think you’re capable of teaching people to use the Force?!” Adrianne said.
G lifted his hand, subtly bringing his fingers closer together, as if he were standing behind himself and with a trick of perspective, he was caressing her. Adrianne responded with an impressed smile, nearly closed her eyes and gave into the sensuality behind the ‘untouched’ caress. He spiked the touch in an unseen direction and she gasped, coming up on her toes. She leaned harder into his chest, her hands going around him, pulling on his back.
“You have my full attention, Master. I don’t think I have ever heard about a Jedi like you,” Adrianne said.
“There has never been a Jedi like me. I am new. I have come to raise the bar,” G said. “I have come to bring a new order of Jedi the like of which have not been seen in the Galaxy for over a millennia.”
“You’re going to have to sell this directly to my boss,” she said. “Can you make that happen?” G asked.
“I can, but you’re going to have to spend money today,” Adrianne said.
“Happy to,” G assured her.
“My boss is going to want to know you’re a player. You’re going to have to spend time with me, while being recorded,” Adrianne said.
“More than happy to,” G said.
“It would help if you also spent time with Emma, also recorded,” Adrianne said. “I’ll do you both together,” G offered.
“I have to warn you. If he accepts there’s no backing out. It’s a commitment,” Adrianne said.