(Star Wars) Laika & Arlaud Book 1 - Lady Sahshin's Sepulchre
Copyright© 2026 by Clee Hill
Chapter 3
“Good morning,” Laika said sleepily, roused by Arlaud as she tried to stealthily ease herself out of the bed they had shared.
“Sorry,” Arlaud whispered as she turned, Laika reaching for the lights, setting them to dim, and happy to see Arlaud’s eyes were clear again. “I can’t help it. I think it’s still early.”
“That’s okay. We’ve a lot to do and an early start is not a bad idea.”
“Your early or my early?” Arlaud smirked.
“Both,” Laika said, deliberating for a moment before asking. “How are you feeling?”
“Unreal.”
“Tearfully so?”
“No. Got that out of me, I hope. Who knew all I needed was a hot older woman holding me?”
“You’re welcome, any time you need.”
“Ooh, what about want?”
“Want...?”
“Yep. Want. Like I might not ‘need’ to be snuggled, but I might ‘want’ to. A lot. What then?”
“There’s room enough for two in here.”
“I’m only little,” Arlaud giggled.
“You’ve time.”
Arlaud shook her head. “Nope. That’s all done with. Where I’m from we start puberty young and finish young. Maybe it’s a survival thing? Anyway, I got my first period when I was nine, and the doctor at the ... ahem, at the ‘other place’ said I was done growing a couple of months ago. I might ‘round out’ he called it a bit more, but the rest? All done. So, haha, don’t worry, I won’t be taking up any more space than this.”
Laika nodded. “And the head?”
“Oh! You first, Pirate Captain,” Arlaud grinned, jumping out of the bed and landing in a pose that had her pointing towards the door.
“You don’t have to defer to me all the time,” Laika said, careful to laugh, cautious Arlaud caught her meaning.
“It’s okay. We’re trained to go on for an hour at a time, so a minute or two isn’t a problem.”
“Maybe we should turn your old room into another head?”
“Do we have to? I, I like sleeping here, but I like somewhere for me, even if it’s just whilst I’m, you know, here here.”
Whilst, not while, Laika smiled. “I’ll get S1 and S2 to draw up some plans. Something for when we get back.”
“Oh. Okay. I mean, if we’re talking a roomy head, I’m all in favour. The old place was a little cramped,” she said, making it sound like she was talking about her previous home, not a slave’s accommodation.
“I’ll let them know.”
“And I can go start breakfast? Dancer’s Porridge again? Different recipe this time.”
“You have many?”
“Only a couple of dozen. Some are more herbal, which are good for some things, some are more spicy, which are good for cold or lazy mornings, and some are sweeter, when you feel like being indulged. All with added meat, or vegetables, or both. Sometimes with a gravy, too.”
“Sounds a lot.”
“Yeah. They made us keep ourselves as healthy as we could. Money,” she said, her bitterness almost sounding alien to her normal manner.
Laika unconsciously looked towards the ceiling, smiling as Arlaud watched her, mirroring her as Laika asked, “S1? How are we for fresh meat?”
“That will arrive today, Captain. There are preserved meats in the mess.”
“Thank you,” she said, turning back to Arlaud. “There you have it. Make us some more porridge and surprise me?”
“Aye aye, cap’n,” Arlaud smirked as she was off, leaving Laika to ponder a lot of things as she headed for the head, a quick shower, and what she already knew would be a surprising and excellent breakfast. And breakfast companion. Possibly still nude.
“Lunch?” Laika suggested. They had spent a very long morning going around the more specialised areas of the clothes makers’ quarter. And they had been thorough. Arlaud needed to be kitted out for everything and she had been. Everything she might need to keep her warm and safe on the Ice Planet; boots, trousers, underwear, shirts, blouses, tunics, coats, gloves, hats, and more. Laika had been a little surprised and a lot heartened to see how quickly Arlaud had worked to overcome her lifetime of not having a say in what she wore, what she owned. By the time they were done, Arlaud was smiling with the idea of everything she was going to be wearing, even if she was adamant she could never imagine wearing them again. By the time they were done, Laika was sure she would be more than glad of that, but she kept that insight to herself.
“Yes please,” Arlaud answered as the last of the transport droids headed off with things for S2 to stow into Arlaud’s quarters, ready for a couple of weeks from now. “And not sushi,” she laughed.
“No?”
Arlaud shook her head. “It was always my favourite, and now it’s for me, not for how good the fish is for me, for my body, but I want to keep it special.”
“I understand. Instead, would you prefer street food or a restaurant?”
“Can we just have street food? That way we can start looking for the things I was talking about...”
Laika looked around for a moment, reading a few signs before pointing. “This way,” she said, Arlaud slipping her arm in hers.
“And...?”
“And? There’s an ‘and’?”
“Yep. I hope.”
“You’re not sure?”
“Nope. You said there are jewellers here as well?”
“If you can wear it, there makers are here,” Laika said, unconsciously repeating the advertising the Malabi Bazaar used for itself.
“And can, haha, can you be my bodyguard?”
“Is that a suitable occupation for a pirate captain?” Laika laughed.
“No, but can you pretend?”
“I can. Why? Are you planning on robbing someone?”
“No! I’d never do that, except for milk,” she grinned. “No, I want to get something, but I don’t want you to see, in case they don’t have it or can’t make it.”
“I’m intrigued. Very well, I can be your bodyguard, but if you could tell me something about what you’re planning, I might be able to guide you, or get someone to guide us to the better places to look.”
“Oh. Yeah. That’s a good idea. Okay, so ... so let’s just say I’d like a chain, but a nice one. Not expensive, not a rare metal or anything like but, but they have to be able to make, er, nice chains.”
Laika thought for a moment. “Let’s get some food and I think I know a place we can ask.”
“Cool. Wraps?”
“We can get wraps. You like them?”
“Less messy if you’ve had your nails done.”
“Yours aren’t though.”
“Walking around with dancer’s nails? Not good for sneaking.”
“And dancer’s nails are...?”
“Fake, shaped, painted, and sometimes, if we’ve a special look, they paint up onto our fingers.”
“I don’t think I ever noticed.”
Arlaud smiled proudly. “You’re not supposed to, but afterwards you’ll come away thinking, she was elegant or she was really convincing as whatever, and it’s because the hands were right.”
“You’re not making fun of me, are you?” Laika asked, not sure if she was or not.
“No. There would be much more smirking if I was,” she smirked, confusing Laika even more. “But no, I was due to have mine done the next morning, ready for my new owner. They had told me how they were going to be done, that’s how I knew that it was then or never probably.”
“You could tell from that?”
Arlaud sighed. “Yeah. You know they don’t mark us, right? Nothing to show we’re a slave, so customers can think we’re just like their daughter or niece or whatever. That’s not quite true. There are ways they do mark us. There’s a symbol they paint, on your thumbnail and the nail of your biggest toe, big enough to see, small enough to ignore. It means someone can pay for you for whatever they want. That was what they were going to be doing to me. I was going to be sent to The Auction, you know, see how much someone will pay to be the one to end my virginity.”
“Kriff!”
“Yep. Now, haha, now I can get that money and spend it on scarfs,” Arlaud winked, catching sight of and pointing to a vendor selling wraps so meaty they could smell them from across the other side of the lane they were walking down.
“They sell virginities?” Laika asked, instantly regretting asking but also unable to stop herself at the idea of such a thing.
“Yep. We never really know how much though. Sometimes it’s already been sold, sometimes it’s an auction, and sometimes it’s like a barter, the ‘buyer’ he gets me and my owner gets something in return, a slave, something.”
“Oh.”
“I do know how much I was supposed to be worth. My estimate was over 100,000 credits.”
“Your ‘estimate’?” Laika asked, worried it meant what she thought.
“Yep. We all have one. Some of it’s from our owner, and some of it’s from what the first one or two who make an offer hope to get us at. I was high, but others were higher, you know, big tiddies,” she giggled.
“Arlaud? You’re not thinking—”
“—Nooo. That was ‘tuition fees’,” she grinned, Laika realising how worried she had been that, even though she had no way of knowing and was not at all responsible, Arlaud might have seen the 100,000 credits she had given her in those exact terms.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. You’re not the type.”
“The type?” Laika asked, feeling once more as if she was barely keeping up as she learned more and more about a world she had never suspected to exist.
“To pay. Some do because they have to, some because they like to, and some do it sometimes as a treat, you know, the girl you couldn’t otherwise have. You’re not the paying kind at all though. More or less.”
“More or less ... what?”
“Well I have kind of made so it you can’t go back there until you’ve got rid of me. So you are ‘paying’ for me. In a way.”
“Arlaud, I have no intention of ‘getting rid’ of you,” Laika said, worried, again, how fragile Arlaud seemed to see her existence. It was understandable, but it was also heartbreaking. “You can stay as long as you want, and leave whenever you want.”
“Why? The ‘I’m sort of you’ thing?”
“That, and the more you tell me, the more I want to go back there and ... discuss things with your former owner.”
“Wouldn’t work. They’re just one, not the best, not the worst, and there’s how many more, across that station, this sector, the galaxy? We’re just part of what makes things work, doing things droids can’t or things people don’t want droids doing, and costing about the same as a droid.”
“How ... How are you so accepting of it?”
“I’m not, but what could I do? Oh yeah, run away,” Arlaud grinned. “Come on, let me buy you lunch,” she said, forcefully ending that conversation as they headed over to the vendor they had seen, Arlaud ordering a wrap almost as tall as she was, richly spiced, and Laika ordering something less meaty and less spiced. She also took the opportunity to chat with the vendor, getting directions to where she could find bespoke jewellers.
“Iced caf?” Arlaud suggested as they finished their wraps, heading towards the jewellery quarter.
“My turn,” Laika said.
“Cool. Black, please,” she said as they headed for a nearby vendor, tall, a little gaunt, but whose stall’s aromas were almost intoxicatingly rich. He was not grinding cheap beans.
Laika nodded. Black coffee. Which she had not been allowed. Which she was now allowing herself. How many more of these things were there. “And your clothes?” Laika asked, handing her the drinks as she paid before they set off again.
“I still think... Oh! Can I change my mind? Or add, er, my mind?” Arlaud asked, her eyes caught by something Laika hadn’t seen.
“Of course. What is it?”
“Those,” she answered, pointing to the frontage of a shop Laika had ignored, the kind of shop who sold the kind of clothes she had never imagined Arlaud to be interested in.
“Yes. Okay, I know it’s not ‘normal’ clothing, but if I wore those, bras, panties or shorts or skirts, or ... Oh I want that one now. Er, please?” she said as she pointed to something that seemed to Laika to be even more of a combination of straps than the rest, the rest being heavy on the word ‘strappy’ and seemingly made of a whole host of exotic leathers.
“You can wear whatever you want, if you think it won’t break the local rules.”
Arlaud laughed. “They have rules here? We’ve seen everything full containment suits to, haha, lace and a prayer. That’s more than they were wearing.”
“Yes, but the connotations are different.”
Arlaud shrugged. “I’m my own connotation now, come on,” she said, taking a big gulp of their drink as she hurried Laika along with her and into the cool dark of the store.
As directed, Laika had waited outside the shop, amused as a small porter droid came to stand by her, its back loaded with three small bags, another two joining it before, finally, she heard a voice from inside.
“Laika? I need shoes, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Probably some boots.”
“Okay.”
“But other than that, you, haha, ready for this?”
“Probably not.”
“Me neither, look at me!” Arlaud said as she stepped out into the light. Gone were her trousers and belted blouse, and in their place was something like a bikini, in bright baby blue leather, details with golden thread, and made of a frankly wild amount of straps. Matching it was what, if it were of silk and lace rather than leather, looked a lot like a garter belt except, again, it was strappy. On her feet, instead of her adjusted ballet slippers, were foot straps, cages of leather, linked with rings of golden coloured metal.
“You look amazing,” Laika said, not sure she would have ever imagined her dressed in such an outfit, but also seeing how well she wore it. Granted she looked more than a little like someone from an old time entertainment channel, but somehow she made it look more than that, like a uniform for an unconventional cadre of some kind. As Laika looked at the leather garter belt she began to wonder if she should get one for herself, it offering more choices for carrying things than simply being hung from her belt. “I take it that’s what this is?” she said, patting the porter droid’s head.
“Yep. Five colour matched sets in different designs, but some of them I can only wear onboard your ship. You know, tiddies,” she added with a whisper.
Laika smiled. “Well the journey to the Ice Planet just got a lot more interesting.”
“Oh I’m not done yet ... but I think boots would be better. What do you think?”
“I know a place.”
“Ooh. Nearby?”
“On the way back.”
Arlaud sighed. “Meaning I have to change back. I can’t walk around with these on.”
“Might not be the best idea.”
“Okay, let me go, haha, unchange, and we can go,” Arlaud said, skipping happily back inside, Laika still smiling to see her so happy as she came out a couple more minutes later, handing one more bag to the droid as Laika sent it off to their ship.
“So where did the idea for that come from?”
“No idea. I just saw it, wanted to see me in it, looked in the mirror, and, haha, I’ve got clothes of my own now. Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“—It’s okay, I understand. These are your choosing, not choosing from someone else’s choices.”
“Ooh. Nice way of saying it. Bras and panties and shorts next?”
“I think so...”
“What’s in that one?” Arlaud asked, a couple of hours later, they having found her a selection of items, their latest accompanying porter droid now quite laden.
“The reason I wanted your measurements,” Laika smiled, confident the younger woman would love the contents of the bag from the shop she had noticed and which Arlaud had been too focused on to notice. Probably.
“I, I thought that was for tomorrow. You’re buying something for me?” she asked, very clearly surprised she was.
Laika nodded. “Just something I saw which I thought you might like. You’ll see,” she said as she added the bag to the porter, sending it on its way to their ship. Not her ship. Not now. Somehow.
“Bit small for boots,” Arlaud smirked as they linked arms and headed for the sector of the leather sector where they made boots, not very strappy outfits.
“That would be because they are not boots.”
“They?”
“It.”
“Okay, now more confused,” Arlaud smiled, unconcerned.
“So what kind of boots are you looking for?”
“The kind I can walk in,” Arlaud laughed. “They got me to wear some once that were incredible. They came all the way up to my thighs! Of course that was all I was wearing too, some kind of naughty pirate girl, dancing for her captor. At least they didn’t have too much of a heel. Not great for dancing, though; no space for my muscles to move. I loved how I looked in the mirror, but I don’t think I want a pair like that though.”
“Something for formal occasions?”
“You get many of those?”
“Enough that you should consider it.”
“Oh. Okay. And something more ‘sensible’ for every day?”
“Probably,” Laika smiled, lifting her foot a little as they walked, reminding Arlaud, it seemed, of her own boots, mid-calf, side-laced, low-heeled, and decorated with intricate broguing.
“Ah. Got it. Sensible boots,” Arlaud said in a sensible voice.
“Something like those?” Laika suggested, pointing to the frontage of a shop that had been set out onto the footpath, showing a selection of what she would have called ‘walking boots’.
“Let’s see,” Arlaud grinned as they headed inside, inside the next-door shop, and one a little down the lane, another porter droid taking three pairs of ‘sensible’ boots back to the ship before she dove into a final bootmaker’s where she tried on several different thigh-high boots before opting, instead, for a shop a little further again and from which she came away with a pair of boots Laika had never seen before. They were low-heeled, of what looked on Arlaud to be quite a loose and easy to wear fit, pale ivory coloured leather the owner assured them came from an animal with an impressively sturdy hide, and which came with a matching belt, the boots ending in a loop through which the belt was threaded.
“I thought you wanted to run around the ship naked?” Laika teased as the boots were portered back to their ship. “Clothes shopping changed your mind?”
“No, but you said I needed things I can wear, and those are things I can wear and that I never wore as a slave. The nekkid bit’s next, but you can’t see. Or ask. Okay?”
“Okay. You know what you have in mind?”
“Yep. Like the chains I wore, but better. My body chains.”
“That would be here,” Laika said as they passed through a small gate, the smells of clothes and leathers and furs fading as they stepped into an area rich with the tinny smell and sounds of metal being worked.
It took her seven attempts to find what she was looking for, and as soon as she did she came back out again, shooing Laika down the lane to go look at ... whatever ... arranging it so that she came to find Laika when she was done. It didn’t take her all that long, and by the time she had Laika had picked out a couple of necklaces, for herself and for Arlaud.
“Done,” Arlaud beamed, clutching a very unhelpfully unrevealing bag to her chest.
“You’re sure?”
Arlaud nodded.
“Well, this is on the way to where we’re going.”
“Which, where, who?”
Laika smiled. “Two places. One, I think we should find you some underwear.”
“Oh. Okay. Can I get the nice stuff?”
“And what makes lingerie ‘nice stuff’?”
“I feel like a woman, not a whore.”
“Ah,” Laika said, a little shocked to hear her state it so bluntly. “In that case, certainly we can find you some ‘nice stuff’. After that, before we head back, I was wondering if you have ever been to a spa?”
“Ah.”
“Ah?” Laika asked, puzzled at her reaction.
“You were thinking that was new for me? Dancers not going to a spa to help keep them supple, keep their muscles nicely massaged and tones, their skin clear...”
“You make it sound like it was common for you?” Laika said, a little sad her suggestion wasn’t another chance to show Arlaud more of the world she had presumed she knew nothing about.
“Not when we were younger, but from as soon as I started getting tiddies I got sent with the other girls. Once every two or three weeks. It depended if there was a festival when it was busy, or of there some just something going on and it was quiet.”
“You don’t want to go then?”
“I loved going. I, I was the centre of attention but not in that way,” she smiled, Laika unable to tell if she was more or less pleased about that.
“Okay then, maybe you should choose.”
“Yeah ... It might not be a good idea if I do,” she said, singing her words, happy she knew something Laika didn’t.
“Why might that be?”
“We always went somewhere that gave proper massages.”
“There are different kinds?” Laika asked, sure she didn’t mean the perfumed oils used.
“Oh there are lots, but it’s all down to three, really. There’s the ‘lover’s’ massage, where it’s all about getting a feel or getting felt. Lots of oil, not a lot of massage. Next there’s the basic, which is where they work your body more, but it still feels nice. Not so sensual, but still thorough. And then there’s the third kind. Athlete’s? Dancer’s? It gets called a lot of different things but they work your muscles, and your joints, too. If you haven’t screamed at least once, it’s not the real thing. But, about an hour later, you move like your joints are oiled. It’s wonderful!”
“Perhaps I should try that than.”
Arlaud stopped them for a moment. “Really. If you’re not used to it, it can hurt.”
Laika nodded. “Dinner first?”
“Lightly,” Arlaud grinned as they headed off to find a restaurant.
“Madams?” the being at the reception desk asked as it stood to greet them. Laika wasn’t sure of the species though it was humanoid, taller than she, bulky, with pale green skin that made her think it might have been reptilian except it seemed to have very ornately formed ears rather than most reptilian’s open ear holes. It didn’t have much of a nose, so she was still unsure as she answered.
“Yes. Two for a ... Gold? Yes, a ‘gold’ treatment, thank you,” Laika said, the holographic display showing a selection of options, ‘gold’ being the most costly.
“For you and your...”
“Hi. I’m Arlaud. I’m not an anything, just Arlaud.”
“Put guest,” Laika smiled.
“Indeed. Would you and your guest prefer separate rooms or a double?”
“Get the singles. That way I don’t have to watch you beg,” Arlaud grinned a she whispered her advice.
“A double would be fine, thank you. And I am advised to ask if you have different styles of massage?”
“Indeed,” the creature said as it hastily rattled off a long and well rehearsed list. “Do you have a preference?”
Arlaud put up her hand as if at school, making Laika smile, her smile fading a little as she wondered, again, how much time she had had at school. “Can you make mine a ... Yes! Ahem, a yataka tuna no bacta?” she said, giggle proudly.
“What’s that?” Laika asked.
“It translates as move my body but not into the bacta tank.”
“Two of those, please,” Laika said.
“Two no bacta?” the creature checked.
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