#FANfiction: *FILM/TV* Live-Action Characters Muscled-Up~collected

[mondo]

Part 9

Buffy took a fighting stance, one leg in front of the other, crouching a little, and raising her fists before her. Her face was etched with malevolence.

"You're going to pay for everyone you've killed," she said, her voice grating with anger.

Faith smiled sweetly at her, and began to walk forward.

Buffy concentrated on Faith's face, not wanting to look down at the people the other was crushing with each footstep. Not looking didn't block out the screams, however, nor did it mask the crunching of bones and squishing of bodies.

"Aw, B," Faith said innocently, even as she extinguished the lives of 10 people beneath her right boot, "gods are <i>supposed</i> to kill people. It's what we do."

Faith suddenly flung her left arm forward, her fingers spreading, flinging the people she'd picked up earlier without Buffy seeing.

Buffy's eyes opened wide, but that was all she had time to do. She saw the horrifying sight of a screaming man tumbling through the air, could see every detail of his face right up until his body smashed into the bridge of her nose, exploding on contact.

Four other poor souls hit Buffy in the face, each pulverizing in their impact, spraying blood and viscera into her eyes. She turned her head as quickly as possible, and three more thudded into the side of her head, spreading their own juices into her blond hair and turning it a pinkish-yellow hue.

Faith took her chance, and ran the rest of the way through the corral, oblivious to those she squashed beneath her pounding feet. With a grunt, she flung herself into the air and crashed into Buffy, wrapping her arms around the other.

The air was knocked form Buffy's lungs as she was thrown backward, plowing into a row of buildings. Dust and debris was flung high into the air, and when she was able to draw breath again, she choked on it.

Faith's fist flailed into Buffy's left cheek, and she was momentarily dazed, but was able to block the next blow. Her own fist shot up with lightening speed, connecting with the other's chin, and sending her crashing backward off of Buffy.

Buffy wiped the human remains from her eyes, and placed her hands palm down on either side of her head, kicking into the air with both legs, throwing herself to her feet. She crouched again, barely dodging a roundhouse kick from Faith, and swung her right foot around, low to the ground, catching Faith's legs and knocking them out from under her.

Faith went down with a crash, demolishing a six-story building with her back, but was quickly up again. Her right fist punched Buffy in the nose, and the blond staggered back, bright colors of pain flashing across her vision. Before her vision cleared, another blow landed against her cheek, pushing her back further. Instinctively, she ducked, and felt a rush of air as Faith's foot swung through where her head had been. She tried to lunge forward, but Faith was too quick, and punched Buffy in the forehead, knocking her off balance and onto her rump, which crushed several abandoned cars as she went down.

Tiny screams reached their ears, and Faith looked down the street to see several people running away from them, piling out of the buildings in fear of being trapped if they should collapse. They were about a block away. She smiled, and stepped back to allow Buffy time to regain her feet.

Faith's action confused Buffy, but she took advantage of it. In one move, she leapt to her feet and struck out with her left hand, her open palm catching Faith in the nose.

Faith stumbled backward, but was upon Buffy again in an instant, landing blow after blow on the other's face. She began to drive Buffy back, toward the fleeing crowd.

For every 3 punches she took, Buffy landed 1 of her own, but it was clear who had the upper hand. Having no idea that there were people only a couple steps behind her, Buffy turned and started to run, trying to get a different vantage point in order to fight. It wasn't until the screams and crunching sounds and feelings registered with Buffy that she understood what was going on.

She pulled herself up short, nearly slipping and falling on the slick ground, and looked down.

She stood in the middle of about 100 people, her sandaled feet crushing several beneath them. With a sickening lurch to her stomach, she noticed the frantic wrigglings of a few people that lay half crushed, their upper or lower bodies protruding from beneath the hard foam soles.

With half a sob, she tried to backpedal and get away from them, but rough hands shoved her from behind, forcing her to take 2 steps forward. Each step covered and pulverized several people, and Buffy gagged at the squelching sounds. Then she stayed as still as possible. She could not move forward because they were at a dead end, and she could not move back because Faith was there.

"C'mon, B," Faith spoke behind her, her voice silken, "you can't tell me you're not feeling at least a little bit of power standing there, squashing all these low-lifes under your feet."

Buffy closed her eyes tight, trying to block out both the sound of Faith's voice and the screaming from the injured and fearful below her. It only seemed to make the sounds more clear, sharper, and louder, so she snapped her eyes open again.

"It's a lustful feeling," Faith continued. "Knowing that their lives depend on you, and you can end it like that!" She snapped her fingers loudly, causing Buffy to flinch. "All you have to do is step forward."

There was a sickening crackle as Faith did just that, right into the crowd. That snapped Buffy out of her fear.

Trying to ignore what and whom fell beneath her feet, Buffy turned suddenly and kicked out at Faith, driving her left foot into her stomach.

Faith let out a great "Oof!" and stumbled backward, but managed to stay on her feet.

Buffy moved forward, vaguely aware of those that died in her movements, and was on Faith in a split second. Now on the offensive, she lashed out with both fists, pummeling Faith in the face and stomach, driving her ever backward and dodging the other's own blows.

Faith had been caught off-guard, thinking that Buffy wouldn't have had the guts to move when she knew she'd only kill several people in doing it. She hated it when she underestimated people, but was also impressed with the slayer. As she tried to fend the blond off, she couldn't help thinking that there had to be at least a little darkness deep down in Buffy in order to willingly take lives like that. Landing a punch of her own so that Buffy staggered a little, Faith risked a glance behind her, and smiled.

Regaining her balance, Buffy punched out with her right fist, but Faith caught it. The dark-haired young woman's smile was disconcerting, and she surprised Buffy by releasing her arm and grabbing her shirt in one hand and the waist of her pants in another.

With a roar, Faith lifted Buffy from the ground and threw her through the air. Buffy twisted as she fell, and landed on her back with an earth-shattering thud. She dimly heard several windows in the buildings around her shatter with the impact, but then heard another sound. It was that of people screaming, and it was very close. Opening her eyes and looking to the side, Buffy saw with horror that Faith had tossed her into the corral, and she was now lying on top of several people while others screamed and ran around her.

She looked up in time to see Faith leap over the collapsed buildings at the far end and land with both feet on the people below. Blood splattered in all directions, and such a tremor ran through the road that most of the people fell down. In surreal slow motion, Buffy watched as a nearby building, unable to take anymore stress, collapsed inward on itself. She realized that it wasn't actually slow motion, but falling at normal speed and only appearing that way. Her sense of scale had been drastically skewed during the entire experience.

Once again, she was afraid to move, conscious of those lives she held power over, and Faith threw herself onto Buffy's chest, pinning her arms beneath her knees. She wore a wicked smile.

"Comfy, B?" she asked with a slight chuckle. "Don't all those little fragile bodies make a nice cushion to lay on?"

Buffy struggled, but couldn't free her arms. "Get off me, bitch!" she said breathlessly.

Faith ignored the insult, but smiled wider.

"You look hungry," she said playfully.

Buffy struggled harder. "No," she pleaded.

Faith looked to Buffy's right, and reached out a hand. There were higher pitched screams, and Faith brought her closed fist into Buffy's line of sight. Arms and legs of wriggling people stuck out between her fingers. Muffled screams could be heard within.

"No!" Buffy said again, more forcefully, and tried to wrench her arms free.

Faith regarded her smugly. "Now, don't be a baby. Open wide, and let mommy feed you."

Buffy turned her head to the side, clenching her jaw tightly closed, but faith grabbed her lower jaw with her empty hand, forcing her to face upward. She brought the fist which held the people closer, but Buffy refused to open her mouth.

"I said 'open wide!'" Faith demanded, her face an angry mask. She squeezed her fingers together, driving their tips into Buffy's cheeks. After a moment, Buffy was unable to fight the pain, and opened her mouth with a gasp.

Faith shoved the screaming people into Buffy's mouth, smearing a couple against her teeth, then placed the heel of the other hand against her chin and pushed the jaw shut.

Buffy nearly gagged at the feeling of people falling into her mouth, connecting with her tongue and colliding with the back of her throat. As Faith pushed her jaw shut, she felt a body being caught between her teeth and crushing instantly. She whimpered and tried to turn her head to spit them out, but Faith held it fast.

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Giles honked the weak horn of his small car ineffectually at the traffic in front of him. Although he, Willow, Oz, and Xander had taken a roundabout route to Cordelia's house, the streets were still clogged with drivers trying to escape the doomed Sunnydale.

"All these years of living on the Hellmouth and enduring countless bizarre occurrences and monsters, and everyone decides now is the time to flee Sunnydale," Giles said under his breath.

"I can't see them anymore," Willow said, peering out the side window. She had been providing a play-by-play of Buffy's fight with Faith. "Too many trees."

Giles glanced out the window as well. They were beside a park that indeed was choked with trees.

"Perhaps we should try another route," Giles said, thinking.

Willow sat back in her seat and looked at him. "What other route? I'm pretty sure all roads in Sunnydale are like this, Giles." She looked back out the window, trying to spot the warring giantesses. "Except for maybe those roads over there, where <i>they</i> are."

Giles was still looking out the window. "Hold on," he said in a quiet voice.

Wrenching the steering wheel to the right, he hit the gas. The front bumper of his car connected with the one in front of him, but with a squeal of metal, it tore free and they bounced up onto the curb.

"Giles!" Willow squealed, then reached back and pulled at the seatbelt.

The car bumped and thudded over the uneven grass as Giles steered recklessly between the trees.

"Uh, Giles," Xander said from the back seat, "I think we're going the wrong way." He yelped as his head collided with the roof of the car during a particularly nasty bump.

"Cool," was all Oz said with a slight smile.

Giles said nothing, concentrating against hitting any trees.


Mayor Wilkins watched the pictures displayed on the large tv screen, one arm crossed in front of him with the other bent upon the first, his hand fingering his chin thoughtfully.

The images had been caught by a news helicopter, and showed the giant Faith sitting atop the giant Buffy, the former shoving people into the latter's mouth. He smiled slightly at the tv.

"My little girl," he said, amused. "My how you've grown."

He turned suddenly to the uniformed man standing behind him.

"Chief!" he said, cheerfully. "What brings you here?"

The police chief wore a frown, but was genuinely surprised by the mayor's attitude. "Mayor Wilkins," he said in a gruff voice, "we have to call in the National Guard. They're our only chance!"

The mayor smiled at him. "You really think so?" He motioned to the tv. "Look at all those dead bodies, Chief. Look at the <i>size</i> of those girls. Do you really think the National Guard would stand a chance against them?"

The chief's face grew deep red with barely constrained anger. "If you'd let me call them in the first place, those people wouldn't be dead!" he nearly shouted.

"I own you, Bob," Mayor Wilkins said in a hushed, though still cheery voice. His stare was icy.

The police chief quailed, his face paling. He worked his lower jaw as if to speak.

Wilkins smiled, showing many teeth. "And don't forget, it's not just your body I own."

Bob finally found his voice. "B-but," he stammered weakly, "they're destroying the town. They have to be stopped. At least let my men take a shot. . . ."

Wilkins lifted a hand, cutting the chief off and causing him to flinch. Gently, the mayor lowered his hand onto the man's shoulder.

"You let me worry about the city, Bob," he said in a kind voice. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I have some important matters to discuss with Ms. Painter, here."

After a moment, Bob nodded. He then wasted no time in turning, and rushing out of the mayor's office.

Wilkins watched him go, the smile still on his lips. After the door had shut, he glanced back over at the tv, then turned to face the raven-haired young woman who lounged in his guest chair.

"It would appear that our young Faith has taken matters into her own hands," he said to her, then giggled. "Or maybe I should say feet."

The woman's emerald eyes regarded him, and her pouty lips parted. "It is as I said, master," her voice was like a snake gliding across silk, "she has her own agenda. I warned you it might be so before you had me cast the spell."

"You did!" the mayor said, voice ever cheerful. "Lesson learned. I won't make that mistake again." He turned back to the tv, his smile slowly fading.

At length, the witch spoke again. "What would you have me do, master?"

Mayor Wilkins bowed his head, closing his eyes sadly. He was about to make the hardest decision of his life, and his heart was heavy with the prospect. He dearly loved Faith like a daughter.

Replacing the smile on his face, he looked back at the witch with a twinkle in his eye.


Part 10

"Swallow!" Faith commanded, pressing harder into Buffy's chin with the heel of her hand. The other hand gripped Buffy's hair, preventing her head from turning to the side.

Buffy moaned, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and redoubled her efforts to free her arms. She was rewarded with Faith's knee being driven down into her bicep sharply. She barely stopped a muted squeal of pain.

She then felt Faith's fingers digging into her cheeks again, but this time to hold her head steady with the one hand while the other clasped around her throat.

"Swallow, B," Faith said chidingly, "or I'll make you swallow."

Buffy struggled harder, and Faith leaned in more. Both of her arms ached with the pressure, her fingers starting to tingle from lack of circulation.

Faith then began to rhythmically massage Buffy's throat, trying to force her to swallow. Buffy resisted, and seemed to be winning the battle, but she suddenly felt bile rising in her throat. The thrashing of the tiny bodies within her mouth as well as the blood leaked by the two that had been smashed into her front teeth and the one she had been forced to bite down on, was causing her gorge to rise.

Frantically, she tried to concentrate on something else, but it was no use. She knew that if she did not swallow her own vomit, she would choke and possibly drown. At last, she could resist no longer. Whimpering, she swallowed.

It was nearly a fruitless effort. As she swallowed, she could feel 2 of the 4 people inside her mouth slipping painfully down her throat. To her, they were approximately 2 inches tall each, and were much too large to go down easily. She had no choice but to continue swallowing until they were down. Several times she nearly vomited anyway since the unfortunate people clawed and struggled at her esophagus in their panic to escape.

"Good girl," Faith said with a crooked grin. "That's my baby."

Tears leaked from the corners of Buffy's eyes, and, with one final gulp, the people slid the rest of the way down. A moment later, a horrible pain grew in her overstretched esophagus. She began to cry both for the pain and what she had been forced to do, her sobs muffled through clenched teeth.

Faith stroked her hair. "Aw, poor baby," she said. "But, I don't think that was all of them, was it, B?"

Buffy tried to nod that it was.

"Now, now," Faith said gently. "Don't lie to me. You couldn't have swallowed all 4 at once."

Buffy whimpered. Inside her mouth, the remaining 2 people had ceased their struggles, and she knew they were dead. She nodded again, insisting that she had swallowed all of them.

"Really?" Faith arched an eyebrow. "Okay, then, open up and show me."

She lessened the pressure on Buffy's jaw, allowing her teeth to part.

Buffy opened her watery eyes and looked up at the other.

"Open up, baby," Faith said in a soothing voice.

Buffy sucked air in quickly through her nose, then spat the contents of her mouth into Faith's face.

Faith gasped as the 2 lifeless bodies splattered against her forehead, temporarily blinded by their blood and Buffy's saliva. She sat back involuntarily, releasing some pressure on Buffy's arms.

Taking the opportunity, Buffy wrenched her left arm free and swung her fist up, connecting with Faith's lower jaw. With a grunt, Faith fell sideways, crashing into a couple of buildings which collapsed in a cloud of dust.

Buffy was quickly on her feet, doing her best to ignore the crunching sensations beneath her. As Faith tried to sit up, Buffy kicked her in the lower jaw.

Faith fell backward, but amazingly she cushioned her fall with her hands, and flipped over backwards, her feet flying into the air and slamming into Buffy's own lower jaw.

Buffy, too, fell backwards, but less gracefully. Her sandals slipped in the blood and viscera upon which she stood, and she landed on the buildings opposite Faith with a thundering crash. Before she could get up, Faith jumped onto her.

With split-second timing, Buffy raised her left foot sole up and caught Faith in the lower abdomen. With a shove, she pitched Faith over her where she went flailing to the ground, demolishing several more buildings.

Buffy leapt to her feet, spinning around with her fists up.

"I learned that one from Captain Kirk," she said.

Faith was up just as quickly, and the two began to circle each other as best they could in the small city streets.

Faith laughed, her wicked smile returning.

"So," she said, brushing her hair from her eyes, "how did it feel, B?"

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"You know, you can stop asking me that any time. The answer will always be the same. I'm not like you, Faith."

"Yeah, you are," Faith disagreed.

"No, I'm not," Buffy replied in an exasperated tone. "I mean, yeah, I'm killing people, but not intentionally."

"Ha!" Faith snorted. "Sounds familiar, huh? I didn't intentionally kill that guy in the alley, but I did."

"The difference is, Faith," Buffy said, "you get off on it. I don't. It sickens me."

"You know that deep down you feel the same w. . . ." Faith began, but was cut off by Buffy's fist.

The normally tiny blond advanced on the brunette, driving her fists into the other's face. Faith recovered quickly, however, and was soon on the offensive, landing her own punches and kicks.

Cars, buildings, and people alike were flattened without knowledge beneath the pounding feet of the young women. Even as those left in the corral climbed through the wreckage of the buildings which had recently held them captive, they found themselves trampled by the battling giantesses.

Buffy was concentrating on the fight, for once oblivious to the screams and horrifying sounds emanating from beneath her feet, but at least part of Faith's attention was upon her own feet. She was enjoying this immensely, and wore a sultry smile. It wasn't just the thought of the senseless slaughter going on below them, but the battle itself that turned her on. She reveled in the pain, both received and inflicted, and felt herself near orgasm more than once.

All the feelings and lack of concentration on Faith's part, however, didn't show in the way she fought. She was like an animal, and even, at times, grunted and growled like one. Her moves were nearly faster than sight could detect, and it took all of Buffy's endurance to keep up with her.

"This is crazy!" Buffy thought, dodging one blow, but not the next. "There has to be more to the spell cast on her than just that it made her grow."

With a scream of defiance, Faith kicked straight outward, hitting Buffy in the chest and throwing her backward where she tumbled into yet more buildings.

Buffy was slower to get up that time, but Faith made no move to attack her.

Buffy coughed, choking on the dust, and resumed her fighting stance. Faith did not. The two stood still, chests heaving, staring into each other's eyes. Buffy tasted blood, and wiped the back of her hand across her lower lip, not looking at the redness that came away.

"Damn, this is fun!" Faith said enthusiastically.

Buffy lurched a step forward, her right leg nearly buckling beneath her. Faith's smile broadened.

"Just stepped on a car, B," she said, looking down at Buffy's right foot. "It was movin', too. Bet it felt good."

With a cry of rage, Buffy charged Faith, but was brought up short by a punch to the face. She had no time to react as Faith pummeled her about the face and in the stomach. The brunette was grinning maniacally as she drove the other back.

Buffy was dazed, unable to even raise her arms to defend herself. She nearly tripped over a building behind her, but instead leaned against it, though it only came up to her waist and groaned alarmingly beneath her weight. Weakly, she raised her arms, anticipating the next blow.

It didn't come.

Shaking her head to clear her eyes, Buffy looked at Faith. The brunette stood gazing at her, her crooked smile taunting her and her eyes filled with deranged glee.

"It's no fun if you don't fight back," she said. "C'mon, Goldilocks. Gimme your best shot."

Buffy shook her head again, chasing the bleariness away, then pulled back her right arm. Her fist pistoned forward. . .

. . . And hit nothing but air. Faith was suddenly gone.

Buffy glanced around in confusion, but couldn't see the rogue slayer anywhere. Then a small voice caught her attention.

"What the fuck?!"

Startled, Buffy looked to the source of the voice, which was down between her feet, and was surprised to see that Faith had been reduced back to normal size.

Faith stood on the road in one of the few patches that wasn't strewn with rubble looking down at herself. She seemed just as confused as Buffy.

Buffy's confusion faded, and a slow, malevolent smile spread across her face.

"Looks like the Boss doesn't love you anymore," she said in a teasing voice.

Faith's face snapped up and she looked into the now towering Buffy's eyes. She didn't appear to be afraid, and was only momentarily surprised at the turn of events. Oddly, she smiled.

"Probably didn't like me going over his head," Faith said, and giggled. She was actually even more excited than she had been before. Standing in the road, staring up at the impossibly tall figure of the slayer, she was aroused. She took a sort of perverse pleasure in knowing that the tables had been turned from just a few hours before. She pictured herself in Buffy, seeing herself as Buffy had seen her, and the pleasure the image brought was exquisite.

A chill of fear as well as excitement ran up Faith's spine as Buffy shifted from one foot to another, the building debris crackling beneath her platform sandals. Faith looked at the sandals, noting that the soles were so thick that she couldn't have reached Buffy's toe even if she stretched. As she watched, Buffy pressed her toes into the hard foam, the tips turning white with the weight. Faith began to subconsciously stroke her fingers between her legs, slowly thrusting her hips in and out.

"You've been a bad little girl, Faith," Buffy boomed from above, and the tiny rogue slayer looked up at her. Buffy had a gleam in her eye that both excited and frightened Faith.

"You wouldn't do anything to me, B," Faith said, but not very confidently. "You're a good-guy."

"Am I?" asked Buffy in a whisper, the smile slipping from her face. Her expression became cold and hard. "Didn't you say that deep down I was just like you?"

Another chill passed through Faith, and she dimly noticed her hips moving faster, her fingers pressing harder. Buffy noticed as well, but paid it no mind. She, unlike the other, was gaining no sexual pleasure from this, though her emotions were odd and hard to sort out.

Faith was beginning to breath hard, and she said in a breathy voice tensed with excitement, "Yeah, but you don't kill unless you have to, isn't that right?" Her hips were nearly bucking. "You'd. . ." a gasp, "turn me in." She swallows, her face glistening with sweat, feeling an orgasm coming on strong. "Give me to the proper authorities." A pause to catch her breath, her hips never stopping and her hand hard at work. She licked her lips, her tongue flicking out and back in quickly. "Don't I deserve a fair trial? Isn't that what you believe?" She could hardly contain herself, and had a fervent hope for. . . what? She didn't know what she wanted Buffy to do.

Buffy stared down at the undulating young woman, emotions warring inside of her but not letting them show on her face.

"No," she said in a chill whisper. "I have little faith in the judicial system."

The world turned gray, and utter silence fell. They seemed to be in a vacuum. Though only a second ticked by, it seemed to last several long minutes.

"Wicked," Faith whispered to herself.

In a sudden and swift movement, Buffy brought her right knee up to her breast and stomped down on Faith.

Faith uttered a scream of both fear and pleasure as she experienced the greatest, and last, orgasm of her life.

The thunderous boom of Buffy's stomp shattered all the intact windows for two blocks, and the resulting tremor collapsed three buildings nearby.

Buffy stood for a long time, her right foot sunk into the ground several feet. She didn't move or even breath, only stared down at the top of her foot. Although she knew she should feel guilty for purposefully taking a human life, all she could feel was emptiness. Not happy, not sad. Not even as if she would regret it later, for she knew she would not.

Her leg was numb from the force of the stomp, and she let the numbness fade into a tingling sensation, then waited for that, too, to fade, before finally lifting her foot and staring into the hole she had made.

It was a perfect foot print seemingly as if in mud. It had been so swift and forceful that no cracks radiated out from it. The walls were sheer and smooth, and the floor of it was ridged with the pattern of her sandal sole. And in the bottom lay Faith.

At first Buffy thought she had, by some magic, survived; her form being perfectly in shape and proportioned with very little blood around her. But after a moment, she saw that the shape was flat, and the sole ridges were pressed into it as well. One thing was clear, though: Faith had died with a crazed though euphoric smile on her face.

Something hard and heavy crashed into the top of Buffy's head, shattering and sending her sprawling across several buildings. Groaning and more than a bit dazed, she rolled over onto her back and looked up.

Cordelia Chase stood over her, crushed pieces of the building she'd used to hit Buffy dangling from her fingers. She wore a satisfied smile, and some detached portion of Buffy's mind realized that her clothes, body, and hair were clean and free of blood. Even her sparkling white shoes.

"Cordelia?" Buffy whispered weakly.

Cordelia's smile broadened, showing her many, large, white teeth.

"I'm full."


Part 11

Giles' little car bounced and jostled through the park, swerving in and out of the trees. In the back seat, Xander yelped in pain as his head hit the roof yet again.

"Dammit!" he spat, rubbing the top of his head. "Driving through a park <i>and</i> going the wrong way. Is this some English thing?"

Oz glanced over at him. "Actually," he said in his deadpan voice, "it's an ancient Bulgarian custom. They were real maniacs, back in the day."

"Really?" Xander asked.

Oz eyed him with a slight smile.

With a great whump! the car bounced over a curb and skidded out into an empty suburban street. They all looked out the windows to see that they were in a neat and tidy neighborhood filled with large, expensive houses.

"Huh," Xander uttered. "I guess we weren't going the wrong way."

With a squeal of tires, Giles whipped the car into and up the driveway to Cordelia's house. As they climbed from the cramped interior, they all looked back toward the city.

All that could be seen were several spirals of black smoke reaching into the sky. There was no sign of the giantesses themselves.

"Do you think that's a bad sign?" Willow asked anxiously.

"No," Giles replied quickly. "It simply means that we cannot view them from our vantage point." He looked around at them all. "Come on! We need to get inside and finish this."

Knocking and ringing the doorbell resulted in nothing. Nobody was home, apparently. Giles tried the doorknob, but of course, it was locked.

"Right," Giles said, "a window, then?"

"Giles!" Willow whined. "We can't just break in! It's against the law, and stuff."

They all turned to stare at her.

"Oh," she said.

A few moments later, Giles threw a rock through a downstairs window. Carefully reaching in, he flipped the lock and raised the pane.

"What about an alarm?" Willow said, rubbing her hands together nervously.

"I think the cops are a bit busy right now, Will," Xander said.

"You know," Oz said, his face suspicious, "I haven't seen any cops."

"That's probably because they're all over where the action is," Xander said, waiting for Giles to climb in through the window.

"Yeah," Oz said, unconvinced, "but we didn't see any driving that way. And have you heard any gunfire?"

"You think they'd shoot at them?" Xander asked, getting ready to enter the house himself.

"Don't they always?" asked Willow. "I mean, in the movies and things, they always shoot at giant monsters. Uh, not that Buffy's a monster, but Faith, that's someone I wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley...again...big or little." She then smiled with a glint in her eye. "Well, maybe little. Like if she were bug-sized? Then I'd be like all, 'Hey, slut! How's about a nice look at the bottom of my shoe? Is that five-by-five?'"

"Will," Xander interrupted impatiently from inside.

Willow blushed. "Oh, oh yeah. Sorry."

"Be careful of the glass," Oz said to her as she placed a leg over the window sill. Swinging the other leg through, she hopped down to the floor, glass crunching beneath her brown penny-loafers.

When Oz was finally in, the conversation resumed with input from Giles.

"I believe it's safe to assume that Mayor Wilkins may be keeping a tight reign on the police," he said, peering into the gloom around them.

"Why's that?" asked Xander.

"He's evil," Giles said matter-of-factly. "He likes evil things."

Xander looked at him. "I think that's the shortest statement you've ever said. You been hanging around Oz too much?"

"I wish we'd thought to bring a torch," Giles commented.

"That'd be a flashlight to us Americans," Xander said, as he walked across the room, "and anyway. . . ." He flicked a switch on the wall and the overhead lights came on.

"Oh," said Giles, looking a bit abashed. "Where, erm, where do you suppose. . . ."

"Cordy's room's upstairs," Xander provided.

"Quite," Giles nodded. He reached into the bag and produced a spiked, metal club. "Shall we go, then?"

They filed out of the room in search of the stairs.


"No more, please," Buffy said weakly as she lay in the rubble looking up at Cordelia.

Cordelia put on a look of confusion. "But I've barely even touched you."

Buffy coughed into her hand, and when she pulled it away, blood coated her palm. Her chest hurt and it was difficult to breathe. She knew that at least one of her ribs was broken and probably had punctured a lung.

"Ew," Cordelia said, crinkling her nose in disgust. "Well, I was going to offer you a hand up, but now. . . ."

Buffy looked at her suspiciously. "You," she said in an air of sarcasm. "You want to help me. You just hit me with a building."

Cordy snorted. "Well, yeah, but. . . uh, oops? It was an accident? Besides, I do want to help you. That's what friends are for. Isn't that how the song goes? I mean, technically we're not really friends, or anything, but, oh what the hell."

She offered a hand to Buffy, who only stared at it in concern. After a moment, Buffy stretched out her non-bloody hand and took Cordy's.

"There," Cordy said with a smile. "Now was that so hard?" But something gleaming in Cordy's eye made Buffy uneasy.

Principal Snyder stared blankly at the collapsed front portion of his school.

"It's that Summers girl," he muttered to himself in contempt, "I'll bet everything I have on it. Where there's trouble, you can bet her butt's in it."

He paused to idly kick at a crumpled locker door. Then the loud voices caught his attention. He looked up and out of the school to see Cordelia's gigantic back turned to him.

He shook his head. "And Miss Chase. She had such potential. But like all bad apples, they only get worse when around apples that are more rotten than the. . . ones. . .no, wait. If an apple is bad and you eat one a day. . . uh. . . ."

Being distracted by his sudden inability to come up with an appropriate analogy that would adequately express his hatred of students, Principal Snyder failed to notice the giant Cordelia reaching down to help Buffy to her feet.


By the time Buffy realized she had made a mistake, it was too late. With barely noticeable effort, Cordelia yanked hard on Buffy's hand, sending the blond heaving up and over the brunette's head.

Buffy could only grunt as her shoulder was wrenched nearly from its socket and an agonizing fire seared through her chest where the broken ribs grated together. Then she was flying through the air, passing Cordy's laughing head, and soaring back, back, and back.


"When a doctor prescribes an apple a day, you don't have to. . . ."

Principal Snyder's concentration was suddenly interrupted by what sounded like a mountain falling from the sky. He looked up and was greeted by the sight of the giantess Buffy rocketing toward the school, and him, at breakneck speed.

He only had time to utter, "I should have expelled that girl when I had the chance," before Buffy's ample ass crashed to earth, demolishing most of the rest of the school and smearing Snyder beneath her right buttcheek.

[mondo]

Buffy gritted her teeth in pain as she slid on her rump, plowing through the rest of Sunnydale High before finally coming to a halt a block behind the school. She lay there, dazed, amidst the rubble of several buildings, shaking her head in an effort to clear it.

"Ohhh," she groaned, forcing herself to sit up. "That really did not feel good." She paused, a puzzled look on her face and surveyed the crushed school. "But for some reason, it was oddly satisfying."

Before she could even attempt to get back on her feet, Cordelia was standing over her, reaching down and seizing her by the front of the shirt.

"I'm sorry," Cordy said sounding anything but. "I guess I just don't know my own strength. Here, let's try this again."

Again showing no effort at all, Cordelia lifted Buffy into the air. This time instead of throwing her, Cordy spun around and slammed the Slayer into the ground. For once no more buildings were demolished save the ones that simply collapsed in the resulting tremor.'

The wind, and a considerable amount of blood, erupted from Buffy's lungs. Blood and some lung tissue splattered Cordy's white blouse.

"Ick!" Cordy said in disgust, looking down at the stain. She brushed at it with her free hand, and the blood abruptly disappeared leaving no trace.

"Oh yeah," Cordy said ditzily.

Buffy, finally regaining her breath but her vision blurry, tried to speak. It came out as a liquid whisper.

"Wh-what are you?"

Cordy looked down the length of her arm at the Slayer. "Dunno, really." She thought about it a moment. "I think I'm some sort of goddess. Whatever I am, it's pretty cool."

With that, she lifted Buffy over her head again, and slammed her back to earth.


The four companions were nearly flung from the stairs of the Chase residence as the house shook beneath them.

"This is not good," Xander said, clutching at the railing.

"Giles," Willow said after they'd regained their balance and headed upstairs again, "what's going to happen after we smash the mirror?"

Giles didn't pause, but continued climbing and answered between breaths. "I'm not sure, really. Mystical mirrors are tricky things."

"Ya think?" Xander asked sarcastically.

Willow reached the top landing with Giles, who was looking down a hallway deciding where to go.

"No," she said, "I mean what will happen to Cordelia? After she's shrunk and all? If she shrinks."

"Ah," Giles said, "I suppose. . . ."

"It's that door down there," Xander said, pointing down the hall.

"Right," said Giles. "Well, Willow, I suppose she'll be arrested, face charges for murdering countless people, and the rest will be decided by the judicial system."

"But, clearly she's not in her right mind," Willow offered. "I mean, this is totally unlike her."

"Oh, I don't know," said Xander. "I saw her get too close to an anthill once. All it took was one sting, and boy, were they sorry."

They had reached the door to Cordy's room, but it wouldn't open.

"Damn," swore Giles about the door. "People are hardly ants, Xander."

"Tell that to her," said Oz.

"Stand back." Giles lifted the club he held, swung it over his shoulder, and was just about to smash the doorknob when a violent rumble shook the house. There was the tinkling of shattering windows as they all exploded throughout the place. Everyone fell to the floor, clasping their hands over their ears as it felt as if their eardrums would burst from the rumbling.

Then it subsided.

Oz was quickly on his feet, helping Willow up. "Do you think that was the mirror trying to protect itself?" he asked, and was barely able to hear the reply as his ears rang.

"No," replied Giles, climbing to his feet, taking up the club, and facing the door again. "That came from outside. Why don't you all go see what's going on, and I'll deal with this."

"But Giles," Willow retorted.

"Willow," Giles countered, "I have no idea what we'll discover on the other side of this door, but it will most definitely be something not to be trifled with."

"So?" Willow said sternly.

"So, I'm the only one with a weapon, so shoo!" Giles said.

Willow tried to argue, but Xander and Oz were pulling her toward the stairs. Reluctantly, she turned and followed them, the sounds of Giles clubbing the doorknob chasing them.

They had to stop once going down the stairs as the rumbling started again, this time lasting longer. They were all amazed to find that they could still hear after that.

When they reached the ground floor and exited through the front door, they were greeted by an amazing sight.

Cordelia towered above the horizon, much taller than the 200 feet at which she had started.

"Oh man," Xander breathed. "This is like my nightmares come true." He looked around at Oz and Willow. "No, seriously, I've had nightmares like this. Except I'm a little leprechaun and Cordelia's chasing me saying, 'Give me your pot of gold, you little troll!', and I'm like 'I'm not a troll, I'm a leprechaun,' and. . . ."

"Oh, God, Xander, look!" Willow said, placing a hand over her mouth and going even whiter than normal.

Xander turned back around to see Cordelia lifting something from the ground. It was Buffy, and her seemingly tiny form dangled limply between Cordy's thumb and index finger..


Buffy could only lie in the crater Cordelia had made with her body and stare in pain up at the brunette.

"God," Cordelia said, sheer satisfaction in her voice and on her face, "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

Buffy tried to speak, but could only cough up more blood. Breathing was extremely difficult and painful. When she inhaled, she could hear a bubbling sound, and her lungs burned with the effort of breathing through her own blood. She somehow knew she had a collapsed lung, and that if she took much more of a pounding, the other lung would follow suit.

"What's that, Buff?" Cordy said in mock concern. "Hurt you some more? Why I'd be happy to! Anything for such a good friend."

She started to reach down again, but she stopped. Slowly, a wicked smile grew on her face.

"No," she said. "I have a better idea."

Cordelia stood up to her full height, staring haughtily down her nose at Buffy, and placed her hands on her hips.

Then she began to grow.

If she'd had the strength, Buffy would have shook her head in denial. But she could only watch helplessly as the other grew, and grew.

Great tearing and crumbling sounds were all around as Cordy's sandaled feet pushed buildings and rubble aside as they expanded. Ever she grew, taller and taller, her once lithe body stretching toward the heavens. Her great shadow spread across the ruined city, throwing half of it into twilight

Buffy wasn't the only one witnessing the horrifying sight. Across the city, the survivors of the giantesses' destruction stared to the skies in awe, some shaking so hard in fear that they lost their balance and fell to the ground, where they curled into fetal positions and hid their faces.

Still she grew until her height was too mind-numbingly great for anyone to calculate. Her head seemed to brush the clouds before she finally stopped. Had Buffy had the ability to look to Cordy's feet, she would have seen that she was now no taller than the sole of one of Cordelia's sandals.

There was a great rushing sound as Cordy inhaled vast volumes of air through her nose. With a look of utter bliss, she let the air out, fortunately not toward those below her. There was a deafening rumble then that shattered all the windows in the city. Everyone fell to the ground, screaming and clutching their ears, not realizing or even understanding that Cordelia was talking.

"This is freaking amazing!" Cordelia said, surveying the tiny landscape about her feet. She looked down at the tiny buildings, smiled, and lifted her right leg.

Those that were aware enough to notice screamed as they saw the impossibly large shoe coming toward them. It covered several city blocks at once, touching the tops of still standing buildings, and plowing downward without pause.

The city shook as Cordelia's foot reached the ground and kept going, pulverizing people and buildings alike in its path, burying them in a hundred-foot deep footprint.

"Wow," Cordy breathed, "that is just. . . just!" Then she turned her attention back to Buffy. "But enough of that. I'll finish that up later. It's time to finish you up." She paused for only a few moments to let her words sink in, then bent down.

Buffy feebly put her hands up in a desperate attempt to ward off the giant clutching fingers. Obviously it was useless as each finger was the size of a tractor trailer to her. Cordelia's giant fingernails roughly prodded her before finally pinching the front of her shirt between them. With agonizing pain, Buffy was pulled upward, the shirt stretched taut against her body, slicing painfully into her arm pits. Buffy's head fell forward, her face bouncing against Cordy's nail edges, then lolled back, her eyes staring up Cordy's arm to the evil, smiling face.

With sickening speed that caused her to nearly pass out, Buffy was lifted skywards. With a suddenness that forced bloody vomit from her mouth, she halted her ascent. Then she was free falling. She didn't even have the strength to scream.

Cordelia dropped the tiny form of Buffy into the palm of her other hand, making sure to let her fall quite a ways before she caught her. But she didn't want to kill the girl just yet. She lifted her hand up in front of her face, smiling down at the weakened Slayer. After a moment, she reached out a finger and prodded the girl.

"Hey," she whispered, "don't pass out on me now."


Buffy started at the pain as the giant fingernail bit into her side, jostling her fractured ribs. She coughed and spewed up blood, then writhed as her lungs forced air into themselves, gurgling in pain. Her eyes snapped open, but at first she could only see a white hot wall of agony. After a moment, her vision cleared, and she stared into 2 giant brown eyes.

"Well, Buffy," Cordelia said sweetly, "I'm not one to drag anything out. In fact, I'm a pretty impatient bitch, so I'll just cut to the chase." She poked a finger out again and forced Buffy to roll over onto her stomach. Then she grabbed the back of the girl's shirt and lifted her into the air again.

This time Buffy did cry out in pain for it was too much for her. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to make her pass out or she might have been spared the awareness of her fate.

"I know this is crude, but. . ." Cordelia began, then scrunched her face in concentration, working her mouth in an odd grimace. After a moment, a small, though loud, burp emerged, washing Buffy in the smell of fresh blood. "Sorry," Cordy said, "but I had to make some room."

She then lifted Buffy up, tilted her head back, and dangled the blond above her open mouth.


"No!" Willow and Xander screamed in unison. Oz only stared in open amazement.

They watched helplessly as Buffy was dropped into Cordelia's mouth.


Buffy stared down at the giant, perfectly white teeth. Strangely, she had no fear, but could only think that she never in the world would have guessed that Cordelia's teeth could have been any bigger than they originally were.

Her stomach lurched as Cordelia opened her fingers. As she fell, she feebly whispered, "It's okay, Giles. You did all you could."

The wind rushed by her ears. Cordy's lips and teeth rose up, and then passed on all sides of her. Darkness and warm moisture closed in, and then Buffy was bouncing to a spongy halt on the giantess' tongue. Surprisingly, she felt no pain.

All light was cut off as Cordy closed her lips. Buffy felt Cordy's mouth tilt forward and level off, then she was lifted into the air on the giant tongue. She found herself pressed to the roof of the young woman's mouth, but it was almost sensuous and caring. Still there was no pain.

She was moved around inside the cavernous maw, the vast, moist muscle caressing her body, soothing the pain away. She closed her eyes and let herself go. She vaguely noticed a slight tingling on her exposed arms and face as Cordy's saliva began the first stage of digestion. It didn't hurt.

Buffy knew she was finally going to be free.

And then she screamed as her leg was pulverized between upper and lower sets of molars. Her flesh and bone were ripped asunder, leaving a stump gushing blood. Her right arm was caught between Cordy's incisors and sheered off above the elbow. Agony such as Buffy never thought possible coursed through her. Her left hand was smashed and ground between the teeth on the other side of Cordy's mouth, the giant tongue moving her around in natural mastication.

Buffy screamed again as her left leg and half her pelvis disintegrated in another sadistic clamping of teeth. Next to go was the other half of her pelvis and the stump of her right leg. Flung to the other side of Cordy's mouth, Buffy was horribly aware as her entire left arm was crushed and ripped apart. Then, mercifully, she was shoved to the front of her mouth where her head passed between Cordy's incisors and she was decapitated.


Willow was sobbing and screaming hysterically as she watched her best friend chewed up and swallowed by Cordelia. Xander had long since stopped screaming and had fallen into a state of shock, collapsing to his knees. Oz barely had the presence of mind to go to Willow and wrap his arms around her before they, too, fell to the ground in shock and grief.

Inside the house, Giles didn't register the screams as he was concentrating on breaking down the door. It was obviously under some sort of spell and resisting his every blow. He found that if he paused too long between hits the wood and metal would heal itself.

Grunting in effort, he hacked away at the doorknob and surrounding wood. Finally he determined it to be weakened enough, and he stood back and kicked at the door. It swung open with a crash of splintering wood and ring of metal.


Cordelia had just swallowed the remains of Buffy when a stab of agony shot through her head. With a hiss, she pressed the heel of her right hand against her eye, and immediately looked across the city to her house.

"The mirror," she whispered, and began to move.

As she ran, she shrank in size. She had to be on a scale small enough to deal with her attackers and to prevent herself from accidentally destroying the mirror.

Cars, people, and buildings alike fell beneath her pounding feet in crashes, crunches, and screams. She paid them no mind, and didn't even notice when her now semi-sized feet squelched through a mob of survivors.

She reached the park in no time, and plowed through the trees. Her face was a picture of determination and rage.


Neither Willow, Xander, nor Oz noticed Cordelia's approach. They barely even registered the shaking ground. It wasn't until her dark shadow fell upon them that they looked up.

Willow screamed, "Xander!"

Xander was in a catatonic state. He only knelt on the ground, staring at nothing in front of him. He never even knew how he died.


Cordelia, now back to her original 200 foot height, brought her right foot down upon the tiny form of Xander with a booming crunch. She vaguely registered a feeling of satisfaction at what she'd done, partly on purpose, mostly by accident, as she knelt down over her house. Reaching out, she grasped her fingers under the eaves of the roof and lifted.

With a terrible squealing sound, the roof began to pull up and crumble. Shingles and other debris rained down upon Willow and Oz where they huddled near the very foot that had snuffed out Xander. Willow was screaming again as she stared horrified at the blood oozing out from beneath the giant sandal sole. Oz tried to pull her away, but she wouldn't budge. After a few seconds, she thankfully passed out, her mind overloaded.

Giles had rushed into the room, casting about with his eyes before finally seeing the mirror on the far wall above the vanity. As he was about to cross the room, he was thrown from his feet as the house lurched. There was a great wrenching sound, and wood and dust fell down from a rapidly disintegrating ceiling. Shielding his eyes, Giles looked up.

Cordelia appeared, glaring down at him through a ragged hole in the ceiling. With a growl of anger, she reached for him.

Giles screamed and threw his arms up in front of him, but there was only a loud thud as Cordy's fingers collided with the roof and outer wall. The hole wasn't large enough to admit her hand.

Cordy screamed her rage, and began tearing at the roof again, widening the hole.

Giles jumped to his feet, and with a cry of defiance, leapt across the room, the club raised above his head.

"Noo!!" Cordelia shrieked forcing her hand through the hole, grasping for the tiny man. She felt the warmth of his body against her palm. She began to close her fingers in a vice-like, fatal grip.

The club swept downward.

A sickening crunch filled the room.


Cordelia hummed happily to herself as she finished blow-drying her hair. Today was going to be the start of something new. She smiled at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, then frowned. "Ick," she said, "Never let yourself go out without makeup."

Setting the blow-dryer aside, she left the bathroom and walked into her bedroom toward the vanity.

A small crunch from underfoot followed by a sharp pain stopped her short.

"Ah!" she breathed, and stepped back, favoring her injured bare foot. She lifted it and turned it sole-upward.

Blood trickled down her white skin from where a piece of glass had pierced her flesh. She hissed inward, and gingerly pulled it out.

It was a piece of mirror.

Cordelia looked up and noticed thousands of shards strewn about her bedroom floor. Looking at her vanity, she was shocked to see that the mirror had been shattered as if someone had taken a baseball bat to it.

"What the. . . ?" she said. "How the hell did that happen?"

She then sat carefully down on the edge of her bed and reached to her night stand for a tissue. Pressing it against the wound on her sole, she thought of what might have happened. After a bit of thinking, she had thoroughly convinced herself that somehow a vampire had gotten into her room, discovered that he had no reflection, and had smashed the mirror in a fit narcissistic rage.

"Dammit," she thought. "Guess I'll have to get Giles and Willow to cast another one of those vampire-keep-out spells again. Daddy's going to be pissed, though. He said this thing was pretty expensive. Eh, it was butt-ugly, anyway."

End

[hatour]

Star Wars: The Shadow of Tyranny I
Written and Edited by Amnoartist

[This is a female muscle growth story that takes place in the Star Wars universe. Specifically, only a few months after the events of the sixth movie in the series, Return of the Jedi.

It goes without saying that the events of this story are strictly for the enjoyment of those who appreciate the niche that is FMG. With that said, this will obviously not fall under the newly-established Star Wars canon from Disney. Rather, it will do so under the FMG canon written by myself as non-profit fan-fiction. I hope you like the story regardless.

This story will feature the following in certain chapters: female muscle growth; female height growth; female muscle growth from food consumption; random spurts of female muscle growth; random spurts of female height growth; female domination.

This story may eventually feature the following: Mini-giantess; breast growth; feats of strength]

-

Chapter I: Relic

"You're as bold as brass for having come here after the stunt you pulled in the Crucible, Admiral," he says. His hands clench the armrests of the chair. "What do you want? To cull us, now?"

Naomi stands in the centre of the room, her arms behind her back, grinning. My, my. News does travel fast. The room itself: contains barely anything but a lone circular table that a very small number of people sit around, and a few windows.

"No. No, I don't want to 'cull' anyone," Naomi responds with assurance. "Rather, I come to you for help,"

The man leans back in the chair, somewhat relieved. But he still feels nervous around Naomi. After the massacre in the Crucible that was both abhorrent and unanticipated, there is knowing what tricks Naomi has up her sleeve for him and his colleagues.

"You want our help after the disgusting event that only just happened less than two hours past? My. You really are a bold one." The man grins.

Naomi does the unexpected in response: she takes a seat around the table, much to the man's and the rest of the group's chagrin. She knows she is not worthy of sitting at the table, yet she defies the rules and customs of the group and does so at her own will.

"Allow me to rephrase the statement: I come to you with a demand." Naomi puts her feet up on the table, sullying the group further. The gasps and groans from the members of the group is mere music to her ears.

The group argues amongst itself angrily for a moment. The leader of the group – the man – raises the back of his hand.

"In case you all haven't yet noticed, I aim to guide the Empire back into the light." Naomi pulls her feet back down to the floor. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"And how do you intend to do that, Admiral?" The man questions angrily. "We've barely a military arm to speak of – our fleet consists of five Star Destroyers, and your own Super Star Destroyer, the Harbinger, and we've only enough ground forces to take a single planet. So, I'll ask again: how do you intend to do that?"

"With this." Naomi pulls out a holodisk covered in ancient markings, and places it onto the table.

The group groans and murmurs amongst itself once again.

"Don't tell us you're as fascinated by the supernatural as that wretched group you claim to have found." The man rubs his temples. "Please, tell us this is a joke, Admiral."

"Wretched? They're far from that, sir." Naomi grits her teeth. How dare he speak of them so negatively. If only he knew what things they plan to do... "But that's beside the point."

"Then, what is the point, Admiral? How is what's on this holodisc going to help us?"

Us? There is no 'us,' Naomi says inwardly. She knows what will happen eventually, but decides to drive back letting these imbecilic sycophants know. "The point... is this."

She presses the button on the holodisc, and a large hologram fills the height of the room. The group gasps in shock. Naomi expected this to happen.

The hologram in question is not of a third iteration of the Empire's favourite plaything, the Death Star. Which is what the group had hoped for. In fact, it is not even of a thing at all. Rather, it is of-

"Who is she?" a member of the group asked.

"Was," Naomi corrected. "She's been dead for over two millennia."

The leader of the group sighs in disappointment. "Then, how is a dead person going to help us, Admiral?"

Naomi chuckles to herself softly. She knew the group would be blind to what she was going to show them, to what she insinuated. Their naivety knew no bounds then, and still does.

"It's not about her so much as it is about what she possesses. Or rather, possessed." Naomi points to the hologram to stress her upcoming point. "Look at her body."

The group complies. Turning their heads, they gaze at the hulking figure in the hologram. At a mere guess, this woman must have been at least 7 feet tall. Her legs were as thick- no, thicker than Endorian trees. That is no easy feat. Her quads burgeon outward. The longer the group stares, the more enlarged they look.

"Notice just how muscular she is, how tall she is," Naomi urges.

Groans and gasps of awe fill the room. Just what Naomi had hoped would happen.

The hologram of the woman showed more. Her biceps were larger than any of the group had ever seen before. 20, 30, 40 inches of burgeoned mass, enveloped under a network of pulsating veins. Maybe even 50 inches.

"She's... tall," one of the members of the group points out. "Even for a Twi'lek."

"Ah, yes." Naomi grins softly. "Well, that's as big as the holodisc would allow."

"You mean to say-"

"She's really 9 feet tall."

The group talks amongst itself again for a third time. Naomi waits for a response, irately.

"How did this happen?" the leader questions, pointing directly at the hologram of the Twi'lek.

With a simple click of the button on the holodisc, the hologram of the Twi'lek disappears, and is replaced with the holographic image of a small, flat and circular object.

"Because of this," Naomi responds.

The hologram rotates at a full 360-degree angle, allowing for it to be seen in its entirety. Much like the holodisc Naomi had come with, it, too, had strange markings on it.

"We don't know where it came from, but it's supposedly to have existed from the beginning," Naomi explains.

The leader curls a brow. He is interested, now, just the way Naomi hoped to have him. "The 'beginning' of what, exactly?"

"Everything. Time. Space. The Force itself."

"And how do you happen to know all this?" the leader asks.

The question stings Naomi. She didn't expect this.

She remembers:

The figure is clothed in nothing but black. Boots, belt, cloak, hood... all black. The only form of colour besides black is the weapon that is holstered from the belt. Silver. A single button on the top of it. It's casing is slightly cracked, exposing the red crystal underneath.

Naomi stands in front of this figure, a squad of stormtroopers by her side. Like her own, she feels their fear around this figure.

The figure is taller than Naomi; she has to crane her neck up to see their head, and even then she can't see the face fully. Green eyes. Maybe blonde hair. Features? Definitely female. The clothing strongly suggests that.

The figure hands Naomi something over to her. The holodisc.

"Learn from it with caution. Even we dare not tamper with what knowledge it contains," the figure admits.

"And the tablet?" Naomi enquires. Her voice is shaky from the cold. Oh, why did they have to agree to meet on Ryoome, of all places?

"Where the Empire died," the figure answers.

"Endor?"

The figure is silent. Too silent even for Naomi's liking.

Naomi knows that there's no point in asking what the figure wants in return. Somehow, she knows they'll get what they desire anyway, eventually.

The stormtroopers watch as the figure walks off into the snowstorm, into the shadows. Probably to never be seen again.

"I got lucky with my research results," Naomi lies.

"And I'm to guess you want to request permission to search for this? Whatever 'this' is," the responds.

Naomi rolls her eyes. "Have you no ears! I said, I come to you with a demand. I will do this. I will find it, and I will use it to guide this sorry excuse of an empire to its rightly place in the galaxy – under my rule."

"You have no authority in that regard," the leader chides. "I will admit the council was pointless and in need of culling, but the Empire will not be led under you. I'd sooner see a Rebel on the throne."

"Palpatine wouldn't agree with you." Naomi boldly struts towards the leader, and bends forwards. Her face is now level with the leader's. She sees the bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, hears his gulp of apprehension. "As I see it, the man was weak. He lacked ambition. Sure, he ruled the galaxy with an iron fist, but why did he stop there? He knew he didn't have to."

The council gasps.

"He knew, deep in the farthest corners of the galaxy, powers greater than his own resided. Perhaps, arguably more powerful than the Force itself," Naomi adds. "But did he decide to be ambitious? Well, we all know the answer to that, don't we?"

The group stays silent.

"Me? I am the living embodiment of ambition. If I want something, I'll take it. By force, if I have to."

Fear grips the leader. His heart paces faster than a podracer. "F-f-fine. G-g-g-go search for your little toy."

Naomi smiles. She releases her grip on the leader's wrist. "See? That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

[hatour]

Chapter II – Power

The forest suddenly turns dark as a Star Destroyer comes out of hyperspace, enveloping the trees and grass in darkness. The sun is blotted out, only enhancing the dreadfulness of the Empire's arrival on the forest moon of Endor.

The Star Destroyer edges closer to another Star Destroyer, whose arrival was only a few short moments before the first. It is not the only Star Destroyer, either. There are at least 5 others, with the Harbinger Super Star Destroyer in the middle.

Below: Ewok villages burn to cinders. Several contingents of stormtroopers march relentlessly across the forest, burning, destroying, and killing everything in their path. These troopers are far different from the commonplace ones. Their armour is different in design, thicker, silver-plated. Their weaponry is far more advanced as well. What is of most importance is the insignia embossed on the shoulders of their armour. It is not the Imperial crest. Something different. Something new.

An Ewok drops dead in front of Naomi's feet, singe marks on its fur. Naomi kicks it onto its back and examines its furry face with her jet-black boot, pressing the sole of it hard against the creature's cheek. Behind Naomi: a squad of the new breed of stormtroopers. To Naomi's immediate right: a stormtrooper who is both thicker and taller than the rest – Sergeant Eris.

Naomi doesn't know much about Sergeant Eris. Only that his loyalty to the Empire is as fierce as her own.

Naomi hears Eris' breathing through his helmet. It is heavy, and possesses a certain degree of lividness to it. The helmet itself? Much like the rest of his armour, silver-plated, but has a careless streak of red across the face of it that runs crosswise.

Directly in front of Naomi: a cave entrance. Wind echoes from its interior, howling. The entrance to this cave is dark. Too dark even to see in front of one's foot.

"If the co-ordinates are correct," Naomi states, reading from her holomap, "it's this way." She points into the cave.

With a click of her finger, the squad of stormtroopers surrounding Naomi splits into two: one half covers her from the front, the other from the back. Eris stays in the middle, at Naomi's side.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing, what you're getting yourself into?" he questions.

"Of course." Naomi marches forward, into the cave. The stormtroopers flick a switch on their blasters, activating the flashlight on them. "Do you really think I'd use all of my valuable resources for nothing?"

Eris grunts.

"Besides... this is a necessity. If the Empire is to be brought back, it needs this," Naomi adds.

"I'm not naïve, Thont, unlike the rest of the sorry excuse of an empire you claim to want to help," Eris scolds. "It isn't about helping the Empire. It's about making you superior to it."

"And what of it? Besides... it was you who agreed to this little venture."

Naomi is met with Silence.

The collection of stormtroopers halts, and Naomi comes up closer to it. A Togruta lies on the ground. Dead. Likely been that way for months, owing to the state of its corpse. Up ahead, another corpse. Human this time.

"The Togruta looks familiar," one of the stormtroopers calls out, prodding it with his blaster.

Naomi realises it herself: the corpse is that of Ahsoka Tano, former apprentice to a Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker. Scum, the both of them. Good riddance.

They press on, only to encounter more corpses. Each one is more preserved than the last, yet older. Naomi realises it after Eris does - the corpses are all female. Togruta, Human, Bith... it doesn't matter which species they are. What does matter is that they were female.

"Just... follow the trail of corpses," Eris orders.

"They are my men, Eris. I tell them what to do, not you." Naomi jabs her finger into Eris's armour. "Do you understand?"

Eris growls. He hates Naomi with a vengeance, and she knows that. But if he were to react negatively to a superior-

"Yes, Admiral."

"Good boy." Naomi smiles.

Boy, Eris says inwardly. Why, you-

Eris examines each new body as the group comes across it. Like the trooper before him, he prods them with his blaster to check if they're truly dead. Before it came under its new name – the New Republic – the rebellion adopted new warfare tactics. Specifically, playing dead around their enemies, and taking them by surprise when the Empire least expected it.

"I would recommend you shoot the corpses. Just to double-check the validity of their deaths," Eris suggests.

Naomi agrees; she gesticulates for the stormtrooper squad around her to open fire on the carcasses around them. The cave lights up as blaster fire creates a flaring display of red light. Each shot from the blasters is music to Naomi's ears.

Eris presses on. "It would seem all these women shared the same desire as you," he says. "You think you're special, Admiral? Think you're the first to want to find this cave, take from it what it has?

Naomi sighs in aggravation. For months, she thought she would be the first and only person to find what was in this cave, and take it for her own, admittedly, selfish needs. The corpses now made it clear she was far from special.

"I may not have been the first, Eris," she responds softly, "but I will be the last."

Eris scoffs. "We shall see."

The group halts. The path ahead is collapsed. Likely been that way for a while.

"Damn it!" Naomi brushes past the stormtroopers in front of her, and strokes the collapsed collection of boulders. "Now what do we do?"

Eris reacts with a scuff of his boot, then comes up close to Naomi, his shoulder level with her chin. He smiles. "Stand back."

"But there's no point in-" Naomi argues, but Eris' growl causes the young woman's face to turn white as Hoth's snow.

"I said, stand back."

Naomi complies. She begins to wonder just what Eris plans to do to. Then she sees it. An impressive feat. The trooper places his hands below the shoulder directly in front of him. His armour creaks. Then-

Throomp! The boulder is tossed to the side, away from the path. Eris repeats the deed several times over until all the boulders are no longer an obstruction. The path itself: up ahead, a strange glow.

"You might be useful yet, Eris," Naomi compliments.

The group enters the chamber. A tremendously wide and tall place, covered in stone. In the very centre? A large black stone obelisk that stretches upwards to the small crack of light at the top. The obelisk itself, despite being made of black stone, has ancient red markings on it, similar to the markings on the holodisc given to Naomi by the figure on Ryoome.

"This is the place," Naomi says. She knows she's right. She's rarely wrong, and on this occasion her being right causes a thrilling sensation to crawl up her spine.

Eris watches Naomi climb up the small set of stairs that leads to the large dais at the top. His heart sinks. Admittedly, he thought the existence of this place, whatever this place was, was all just something in the deep recesses of Naomi's wild imagination. But now?

The stormtroopers line up at the bottom of the stairs. They know not to go any further. Eris stands behind them.

Naomi's heart fills up with excitement. It's there, on the podium. – the sphere. There is no proper name for it. In fact, the device's existence is so old, it's past been giving one. It may have had one in the past, but Naomi concentrates on the now, on her.

"It's finally mine," she says softly, almost like a whisper. Then-

Naomi grabs the sphere. The chamber dims down to an almost-pitch-black level of blackness. All she can make out is the silver-plating on Eris' armour. The chamber rumbles violently as well, making the stormtroopers to panic, but they stay where they are.

Then: the blackness changes to a near-blinding light. The rumbling intensifies. Naomi feels it- the change. She can already feel her admiral's uniform tighten.

Eris hears a scream of pleasure in front of him, where Naomi stands. Is it her, or someone else? Maybe even a female trooper?

The obelisk generates a beam of light around itself, and it shoots upward through the small crack of light above, out into the Endorian skyline.

Somehow, Eris knows danger approaches; he averts his eyes from the blinding wall of light in front of him. And-

Screams of anguish fill the chamber. Again, somehow, Eris just knows what's happening. The troopers in front of him are literally being fried alive. Through the filters in his helmet, he smells their burning flesh, hears their cries of pain, and then... nothing.

It's a different situation for Naomi, though; her cries of pleasure continue. Her uniform tightens further, until the back of it literally rips itself apart almost instantly, revealing her growing back. The same can be said for her trousers, as they, too, split. This time down the outer sides of them, revealing her surging quads.

It almost feels too much for Naomi, but she wants, needs more. Her eyes flare a bright green for a few moments.

The chamber grows hotter by the second. Eris realises this. In fact, it actually starts to turn out to be too hot for the sergeant. Terribly so that he rushes to remove his helmet, which therefore reveals his long blonde hair and... smoky eyelashes?

Sergeant Eris is a woman, not a man.

The ground beneath and around Naomi's feet cracks slightly, but she doesn't care. The power of the sphere continues to satiate her. The power is almost maddening, but she in turn is mad to a degree, so their natural states act as one. Each one strengthens the other – literally. Naomi's brink of insanity fuels the sphere, and it in turn fuels her, making her stronger. Then-

The wall of light dissipates. The obelisk cracks down the middle and crumbles into nothing, creating a row of dust. Eris peers into it and sees a figure strut towards her. The figure itself: a glowing silhouette seems to form around it only for a few seconds, just before the figure makes itself known – Naomi.

Naomi looks and feels different. Her raven black hair is shinier now, possesses a more supernatural lustre to it that is not unlike the silhouette she had only a few moments ago. Her skin tone is somewhat more tanned, more divine. As is she. She knows it. The chamber is cold, yet her body generates an uncanny degree of warmth, even with its blatant nakedness.

Naomi looks down at her breasts. Bigger now. More evenly proportioned as well. As for her buttocks? A shamelessly erotic squeeze of them from herself makes the fact they are not only firmer, but more alluring as well. She knows it.

Despite all these pleasing improvements made to her body, Naomi takes more pleasure in knowing her muscles are larger now as well. A teasing bicep flex in Eris' face suggests they are 12 inches. Freakishly proportioned. Maybe bigger. But not big enough. A small, slightly visible network of veins cover the mighty limbs, and a split is easily conspicuous on either of them.

Above her breasts lies a wall of reinforced flesh. Pecs. Immensely powerful. Godly.

Her abs are visible, too. A four-pack. Two visible abdomen less than she hoped to have. Not enough, but it's a start.

Each of the admiral's quads have that sought-after tear-drop beginning to surface. Veins, too.

The young woman's calves are just as defined as the rest of her. Somewhat thick, but thicker than what they were before. Veins. As she stands in front of Eris, she feels them bulge on their own accord. A thrilling feeling. They dance in tandem to her rapture-fuelled heartbeat.

Eris' breath touches Naomi's skin. Was it a breath that suggested worship?

Eris' eyes suggest surprise. Despite that, she thought beforehand Naomi would be just as surprised when she would find out that she was a woman, not a man.

"Don't act surprised," Naomi says. Her voice is different. More sultry. "I knew you were a woman to begin with."

She looks around her. Only she and Eris are what's left of the group.

"How does it feel," Eris questions, softly, "to have all that power flowing in you?"

Naomi bites her lip at the thought of having so much power flowing through her.

"Delicious."

[hatour]

Chapter III: The Challenge

The Crucible is abuzz with news of Naomi's transformation. Most of the Imperial army believed her plan to bring the Empire back into tiptop shape was nothing but dreaming. It was the same case, in fact, regarding the sphere and its ability. Then: They all just laughed it off. Now: every known Imperial has gathered in the Crucible's heart - the canteen.

The Crucible itself: the Empire's new base of operations. More of an actual base this time than a threatening weapon of mass destruction. Its shape is triangular, and it's much, much larger than the second Death Star. Its weak spot? Those who ever find one will indeed be lucky. The Empire has learned from its mistakes.

"Come on. Surely, you'd know to give up by now?" Naomi questions the stormtrooper. She feigns a yawn. Her bicep bulges, the power behind the limb almost bursting. "The last ten men went down the same way, you know – broken limbs are painful, but I'd imagine two broken arms would be near-excruciating. Hadn't you learned from your last mistake? "

Directly behind Naomi: ten stormtroopers, all with slings around their broken arms. Some of these troopers actually sit weeping, cradling their broken limbs.

Naomi respects her men, knows they'd die for her. But being clones, they're as strong and naïve as each other. She thought the next man would learn from the mistakes of the one before him. Guess not. At least another twenty men have lined up to challenge what the Empire dubbed "The Queen of the Crucible."

The Queen of the Crucible – a nice name. But it doesn't have as much of a ring to it as Empress of the Galaxy. All in good time though. Naomi knows good things come to those who wait.

"I won't... give up... that easily," the trooper responds in between baited breaths. He has managed to keep him hand locked with Naomi's longer than he hoped. Even so, her arm's strength never seems to wane.

On Naomi's side of the table where the rather one-sided arm-wrestling match is taking place: a single glass of wine. Barely touched. She takes a sip from it, her locked hand barely weakening.

"If you say so." Naomi smiles.

The wine tastes exquisite. Having come from the Lake Country in Naboo, Naomi expects nothing less.

A bead of sweat trickles down the trooper's brow. He's weakening now. Ready to give up. Perhaps have another broken limb.

"You should give up right now, man," Naomi suggests. "My arm will never weaken, whereas yours..."

A bone in the trooper's wrist cracks. He yelps.

"Well, I'd hate to put an eleventh man in the infirmary."

Naomi releases her grip. The trooper falls to the side. His left arm is already broken, so he's lucky his right one is only sprained.

Naomi celebrates with a double-bicep flex. Everybody cheers, even the troopers who came from the infirmary earlier. As best they could, that is. The limb, while not larger, is now more defined than it was after her transformation on Endor.

"Anybody else care to lose?" Naomi enquires. The question itself feels more like a boast of her superiority than a suggestion. "I'll even act like I'm losing now, if you want?"

The troopers groan in response. Now they get the point – Naomi's unbeatable. That said, that was something to be expected from people whose strength is the same, owing to their genetic template. They can grow as strong as their model was – Jango Fett.

But Eris was no clone.

"I'll challenge you," she calls. "But this time, it will be a challenge."

Eris approaches Naomi from the front door of the canteen, where the other twenty challengers stand in line. She dresses in a tank top and shorts. Black in colour. They each bear the new, strange insignia. They're tight. Her muscles threaten to burst free. Though, they do their job well, which is to display the young woman's mass. Bigger than Naomi, much to the admiral's chagrin. No matter. In time, she will outsize her.

Eris' calves are heart-shaped, meticulously defined. They bulge as she approaches her opponent. Each step causes them to ripple.

Her quads are just as ripped. The teardrop is evident, testament to merely months of rigorous training that is as fervent as her loyalty to the Empire.

The outline of a six-pack is shown through the top. Much like her muscles, her abs threaten to swell outward, and burst free from the confines of the top. Thick traps lie at the top of this woman proudly, like kings on thrones.

"Heh. Finally, a real challenge." Naomi grins as Eris takes her place at the table. The seat creaks. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't be interested, Eris."

"Oh, it wasn't a matter of me being interested or not."

"Oh?"

Eris smirks. "It was more like me waiting for the perfect time to play your little game."

"This is a game. My game. And I can't be beaten at it."

Eris rests her elbow on the table. Her bicep bulges bigger than Naomi's own does. And it hasn't even been pumped yet. "Enough talk. Play."

They lock hands. The troopers cheer on both girls equally. The trooper who Naomi had just beaten only now manages to climb up to his feet.

Naomi realises some effort is now needed. She something that is unexpected. Her heart sinks.

Eris takes note of Naomi's requirement to apply more effort into the action of pushing her arm down. Grinning, she looks around her for a moment. "Maybe your victories were short-lived." She thrusts her arm down a bit more, inches now from achieving victory over Naomi. "Had you not noticed all the troopers were as strong as each other?"

Naomi winces. She's inches – literally – from defeat now. She can't afford to lose. It's not in her blood. A single bead of sweat trickles down her brow.

To tease her opponent, Eris brings her arm back up to the starting position. "Come on, now. Surely, you'd know to give up by now?" she smiles.

But then, Naomi's grip on Eris' hand tightens, and the unexpected, unexplainable happens.

Naomi's bicep bulges more intensely now. She can't quite understand how, but somehow, she and feel Eris' arm strength wane, and her own strengthen. In fact, she can actually see the increase in strength take place. The bicep grows larger until it bursts through her top. Despite its growth, it's still smaller than Eris' own, but somehow-

*Thwump*

The crowd of troopers and even Eris are both wowed by Naomi's display of growth and how easy it is for her to suddenly bring the larger sergeant down.

All Eris can do in response is blink. The troopers on the other hand, cheer. A symphony of woo-hoo's and woah's fill the room, rousing Naomi's dominance in the situation.

She stands to the side of the table and flexes both her arms. Somewhat bigger now than they were just after Eris' defeat, meaning she had grown twice, albeit only just.

"Um... Admiral?" one of the troopers begins. He spotted before either Eris, Naomi or the rest of the troopers did. He points at the victorious girl.

Then she sees it, too. She's grown more muscular everywhere. Biceps. Quads. Calves. Traps... Somehow, even the muscles that weren't even being used in the match grew in response to the strain her single bicep was under. A six-pack, now. The definition is surreal.

And the power! She feels more of it seeping its way within her, coming from... somewhere.

Naomi responds to this surprise revelation with an abs and thighs pose. She's completely forgotten about her victory over Eris, by this point. She holds the pose for a moment or two. Enough time, still, for her definition to become even more enhanced.

"Alright. You win," Eris concedes. She knew there was no point in arguing about who won or lost. The victor was evident.

Eris diverts her attention to Naomi's biceps. That gets her wondering.

"Want to compare?" she offers. It's a silly question. It's something else she knows her boss will dominate her in, but that isn't the reason why she asked.

"Sure. Why the hell not?" Naomi responds.

Eris whips her top off and tosses it to the floor, revealing her bra and voluptuous breasts. Likely DD in size. Not to mention the pecs she has as well. Monstrous.

Next, she climbs out of her shorts. A pair of Imperial black panties underneath. This is as close to naked the Imperial military both have seen and will see her, so she knows they're lucky today.

Calves first. As expected, Eris' are larger upon inspection with the human eye. A good deal larger. But Naomi's are more defined. Each woman's calves are heart-shaped, but in Naomi's case, it's more prominent.

"Let's make things a little more interesting," a trooper says. He presses a button on his wrist HUD.

A moment later, a protocol droid walks into the canteen. It's been repurposed to make measurements.

"C3-A2, at your service. How may I be of service?" the droid stares at the trooper who called him in.

"Measure their calves." The trooper points behind the droid at Naomi and Eris, who both giggle like girls.

"As you wish," the droid responds.

Both Eris and Naomi feel a cold sting as the droid pokes their calves with its finger. It knew beforehand that both girls' calves would be hard, but it didn't expect Naomi's to be so hard that its finger would bend slightly with a crung sound.

"Beginning background measurement analysis... complete... analysis indicates Admiral Naomi's calves are estimated at 14 inches, Sergeant Eris' at 18."

Next up was quads. Both girls have the distinctive teardrop appearance to them. It took Eris months to get it, whereas it only took Naomi a few moments, owing to her trip to the obelisk on Endor.

Again, Eris was the larger of the two. 24 inches as opposed to Naomi's 16, as calculated by C3-A2. But while Eris was the victor in terms of size, Naomi had her beat in the definition department. As aforementioned, both girls had the teardrop, and Naomi's was more defined than Eris' was.

Biceps now. Each girl has the discernible split down the middle of each rippling arm. A wide separation present as well. To both the surprise of both girls, they are just as defined as each other are. But again, Eris is largest of the two at 19 inches, compared with Naomi's 15.

"Well, that was awesome," Naomi, utters, "I honestly thought you had me beat there for a sec," she lies.

Eris rolls her eyes.

Naomi struts past her colleague. A glint in her eye suggests she intends to do something perhaps reckless in nature. Eris notices this.

"Where are you going?"

"To the gym, obviously." Naomi opens the door, the tendons in her forearms bunch up from the motion. "I can't have you outsize me forever."

[hatour]

Chapter IV: Metabolic

The door into the hallway from the gym opens with a hiss and click. Naomi emerges from its threshold. Her smile is content, suggests pleasure. Her workout in the gym was a fierce one, which she suspected would happen.

What she didn't anticipate though, was the fact her workout barely promoted growth. An inch or two here and there, at most. Not enough for her liking. The fact she barely gained mass rather saddened.

Regardless, she was still happy. She knew lifting from 30 to 200 pounds of resistance in the short space of 8 hours was unfeasible. Well, unless you travelled to the cave in Endor and sponged some of the sphere's supernatural power. But that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. After all, she sucked the thing dry, rendering it nothing but a useless metal ornament.

As she swaggers down the hallway, Naomi tugs at her sports top and shorts. As stated, the growth she underwent was minimal, but was still enough for her articles of clothing to suffer somewhat. The top has a large vertical rip, which reveals her breasts and pecs. They are both raw, pumped profusely with as much blood as they can cope. Her shorts fall to the same fate. There's a small tear at either side of them, exposing the side of the woman's quads.

A trio of stormtroopers stops suddenly, ahead of Naomi. They'd been talking about their individual preparations for the impending battle on the planet Jakku, until they eyeballed the Queen of the Crucible.

"It's true," one of them whispers to the other two. "She really did find that cave on Endor."

"You doubted her?" the second trooper responds. "You heard about what she did to that Jedi last month, right?"

The first trooper looks to the third one who, underneath his helmet, rolls his eyes. Turns out he didn't know. Everybody else did.

"She tortured him. Broke his fingers in several places on one hand, and smashed the other." The second trooper nods. "Brutal."

"Wait.. smashed the other hand - what?" the first trooper asks in confusion.

"Yeah. It was one of those robot replacement hands he had," The third trooper cuts in. "Screamed the place down."

"Who was it?"

But before the trooper gets his answer, Naomi comes up between the trio, walking past it coolly. The men notice it – the unexplainable heat that emits naturally from her. It actually causes the three troopers to sweat themselves. Perspiration overcomes them, dripping from their brows underneath their helmets.

"She's hot." the third trooper admits. "Literally." He turn to his friends to affirm his claim. They agree. "I mean, did you feel the heat literally radiate off her?"

Still walking down the hallway, Naomi grins. She can't help but feel roused by the trooper's comment about her. Her muscle tingle, and she sighs with pleasure.

"Hey boys," she calls, her back still turned to her admirers. "Look."

The troopers' eyes almost dart down to Naomi's glutes on their own, as if allured by them. The arising goddess' shorts suck in as she flexes her glutes. She can almost feel the material caress her rear smoothly. The tear at the side grows somewhat, allowing for more of her skin to be exposed.

Naomi's back, chest, and underarms are covered in a sheen of sweat. This is testament to her trip to the gym that gave her some degree of growth. That was triggered from barely a proper workout or diet plan. This very sheet of sweat only enhances the visibility of the admiral's muscles underneath her clothes. Bulging, powerful, transcendent. And they've only existed for the last 8 hours.

"That's one for the road," she adds, teasingly.

The troopers barely care about the drool that develops around the edges of their mouths, by this point. Nobody in the Crucible looks as ravishing as Naomi at this point, and probably never will.

They worship-induced trances are soon broken by the sound of Naomi's stomach. A loud, fierce rumble fills the hallway. Time to eat.

-

Sometime later, Naomi finds herself seated at the canteen. In front of her is a bountiful feast usually fit for a full squad of stormtroopers. This time though, it's unique to herself.

25 pounds worth of Bantha meat, four litres of blue milk, six steamed Crawlfish, and 4 sautéed Fleek eel are what's to Naomi's left. To the right? Six times the serving of each aforementioned meal. On the plate? Nothing. It's been licked clean – literally. Regardless, Naomi feasts on more food. Her body tells her how much she's already eaten – a food baby is present, and yet, the faint outline of a six-pack can still be seen.

The chefs were initially sceptical about being able to cook as much food Naomi craved. They already had cooked enough food for over 100,000 men and women. Yet, they still had to cook for the Admiral, who had the appetite of 15 people combined.

However, despite the evident odds placed against them, the chefs managed to pull off the feat. In fact, they considered it one of their most successful challenges yet.

"Can you believe this?" the head chef, a Sullustan, asks rhetorically. He watches as Naomi stuffs a whole Crawl fish down her throat. She stuffs it down her throat in such a senseless manner, she almost chokes on it. She doesn't care though. It was naturally brimming with protein, and that's what she wanted, needed. "That's her 7th Crawlfish in 15 minutes flat."

"Are you seriously arguing about that?" the assistant responds, her eyes locked on Naomi's hands as they dart to the 8th Crawlfish now. "If she heard you say that, she'd send you off to Jakku."

The Sullustan gulps. Being sent off to Jakku is the last thing he wants. Especially considering its current state in the galaxy.

Naomi grins as she sees her food baby literally shrink before her eyes. She pats her stomach for a few moments. Each contented pat causes the slight outline of her six-pack to enhance until it eventually becomes fully visible, seemingly harder looking and more defined than it was previously.

"Ooooohhhh!" she shudders. Somehow, she just knows it – she's going to grow.

And she does.

Her back's the first to grow, her muscles attack her top violently. They push through it until the black fabric gives in and tears down the middle. Pink veins pulsate.

Her biceps are next. But they're the only muscles during this growth spurt to flex on their own accord. As if they have a will of their own, the hard-yet-fleshy spheres contract and push through the sleeves of the top. There's a sharper peak on either arm, now, and the splits are even more detailed than before.

Naomi grabs the litre bottle of blue milk and almost chokes as she guzzles it down. She knows what she's doing is in actual fact greed, but she doesn't care. The feeling is too thrilling to pass up on.

Calves next. They almost literally inflate like balloons, the growth is that quick. They don't grow beyond human proportions, but they do supernaturally quick. It's especially supernatural considering the catalyst is-

"OOOOOOHHHH!" Naomi shudders, as if she braves the coldness of Hoth's glacial landscape without the proper clothing.

The power pulls itself into her body more, now , which causes a bit of faster growth.

Her shorts are barely shorts anymore. Instead, they're more like black rags clinging onto a Wampa.

The chefs scatter out from the kitchens, screaming. Naomi watches them run off. She has little to no time or care for them at the moment. The Sullustan trips over his feet and smacks his face off Naomi's quad. It feels like rock. Owing to his shattered teeth, it may as well be.

The chair Naomi sits on squeaks until finally it snaps under her weight.

The food baby's gone completely, now, replaced with a six-pack of incomparable clarity. Harder than Eris; likely. Definitely bigger and more visible. In fact-

Curiosity grips Naomi. With an odd glint in her eye, she grips on of her abdomen – literally grips it! Her speculations have been affirmed. Her abs are harder than Eris'. That meant one thing - in the space of only 8 hours, she's gone from a lithe admiral of the Imperial army to a potential amazon. Albeit only just.

But 'only just' wasn't enough.

The table falls onto its side as Naomi rises to the floor. She's grown taller. Only an inch or two, but still it's noticeable to her. Naked again. Larger now. Stronger. More powerful. And then she sees it: a cloud of white particles floats around and through her. The Sullustan rises to his feet, clutching his jaw.

He doesn't see what Naomi does. He can't. He isn't as powerful as she is.

And then an eerie voice from nowhere. A man:

"There has been an awakening. Have you felt it?"

Another man's voice. Different this time; as if masked. Echoic in nature:

"That weapon is mine!"

The unmistakable sound of two lightsabers igniting and then clashing together fills Naomi's ears. One of these 'sabers, however, sounds different from the other. It sounds more violent, crackly, and has three blades, not one or two.

The second man's voice calls out from nowhere once again.

"Together, we will destroy the Resistance and the last Jedi."

Silence.

Naomi blinks. She's alone now. The Sullustan is gone. Had been for the last ten minutes actually. Her heart races. From the window, she sees several Lambda class transports descending down to the planet below. Jakku – the Empire's last known safe haven. If it falls, the Empire will surely follow suit.

[Machao6]

For some reason I have a massive problem with fanfiction - but this was really engaging to read.

Amazed you crowbarred our 'interest' into the setting.


Keep up the good work, looking forward to reading more!

[hatour]

Chapter V - Mysteries of Jakku

A pillar of smoke rises from the dunes of Jakku in the distance. The battle rages on and has done so for a day straight. Nobody has felt the pangs of tiredness or hunger, for the adrenaline of war and excitement has coursed through their veins.

The Imperial base of operations is a mere simple outpost on the sandbanks. Outmanned, outgunned, but far from outmatched. The base itself is situated within the remains of a downed Star Destroyer. Been that way for weeks, maybe months, yet corpses from the crash are still being discovered under the wreckages within its mechanical bowels.

The New Republic's base of operations is different from its tyrannical counterpart. Fully erected buildings made from plasteel and iron.

In the distance, past the pillars of smoke over the dunes, several moisture farms are situated. Unoccupied.

A soldier of the New Republic crawls through the sand, his arms reaching out, one after the other. The smells, sights, and sounds of death are too much for him to bear. He had hoped the battle would be easy, that the Empire's might would dwindle upon the arrival of the initial liberation force of the New Republic's army.

But neither she nor the New Republic at large expected the brutality Eris would bring with her.

The trooper screams as a silver-plated boot crushes his ankle. One of his legs is already shattered; a clean smash through the entirety of the bone. He'll likely need it amputated... if he survives.

"Don't stop screaming," the trooper urges. "It's painful for you, I know. But for me..."

The soldier screams again, the pressure on his ankle doubling. The calf underneath the boot audibly swells ever so slightly; the metal creaks. A slight metallic twang-like snap follows.

"... it's like music."

The trooper manages to turn onto his side and gets a good look at his captor – Eris.

"I can smash the other one, if you like?" she suggests. "Might actually get a cantina number out of you, this time. What do you think?"

The battle hasn't been particularly forgiving for the sergeant. Her armour is beyond recognition, if any of it still exists. The right side of her helmet's face is completely shattered. This, thus, reveals her blonde hair that lies underneath and green eyes. A freshly formed scar cuts down her right cheek from the corner of her eye to her top lip.

The abdominal armour is scratched too, and is somewhat equally shattered. Her right oblique is exposed to the Jakkuan sun. The muscle is now more defined than it was in the past. Thicker and more prominent too. her body is so close to a literal suit of armour itself, it's a wonder why she wears a real one. Underneath her armour, she knows there are veins that snake up her pelvic region. She lusts after them, and isn't afraid to admit it. After all, why would she not love something that she worked herself off to achieve?

Despite her injuries, she scowls at the trooper, powerful as ever.

"What the-" the soldier cries as Eris hauls him up into the air by his unharmed leg. "Let me go!" He realises his blood is beginning to rush to his head now. Eris knows it too, but she doesn't care.

She just smiles as the soldier flails from left to right in an attempt to escape from her iron grip. It tightens, forcing the trooper to yelp.

He reaches for his blaster pistol to shoot the woman down, but she notices it clear as day, and grabs it from him.

"You think you can kill me?" Eris grins. She can taste the blood from her new scar in her mouth. She welcomes it. Lusts after it. "To me, you're like this pistol here."

The solider watches with fear as Eris drops his pistol – his last hope for survival – to the sand and smashes it between her feet.

"Nothing," she continues.

The battle still rages on around the two people. Neither side is winning, now. But that doesn't mean fate won't intervene.

Eris quickly turns around, still holding the soldier up by the leg, and sees an AT-AT marching on. It's damaged badly, likely going to fall at any given moment. Until then-

Eris' right eye bugs out from the realisation that the AT-AT is about to fall into the sand. She thinks fast and makes a decision. Dropping the soldier onto the dune, she darts to the side and rolls to safety. A deafening thud fills her eardrums for a moment. The soldier is nowhere to be seen, but Eris can guess where he ended up – under the AT-AT.

Eris rises to her feet and dusts herself off. She's trapped in a canyon, now. The downed AT-AT blocks her only way out. Common sense would be for Eris to walk along the canyon until she finds a way out. But Eris exudes might and brutality, not good judgement.

She comes up to the mechanical hull of the AT-AT and proceeds to dig her fingers into its armour plating. She tears a hole so quick and effortlessly, it's as if the armour was more like tissue paper. Despite the task's ease, Eris' thick forearms bunch up and contract. This in turn causes its own and the biceps armour plating to crack, causing the powerful limbs to spring to life, somewhat larger than they were previously.

The hole's big enough now for Eris to gain access to the AT-AT's insides. Once inside, All she sees are dead bodies. Some fried from exposed cabling, some from blaster shots... Despite their revolting methods of expiration, Eris rummages through them for ammunition, caring not for the fact they fought for the same ideals as her.

She finds enough ammo to press on. Once she reaches the escape hatch at the far end, she punches through it with her fist. She barely feels the impact, but its powerful enough to send the hatch skyward. Opening stuff is for the weak, she says inwardly.

Surprisingly still near the battlefield, Eris is back outside. The fighting is still fierce, but the numbers on either side are finally dwindling. A trio of TIE fighters sweeps above her, followed closely by a group of A-Wing fighters.

But then the situation changes for the worst, once again: Above, a Star Destroyer slowly plummets to the ground. The impact will be catastrophic. It will surely end the battle for sure.

To get a heads start, Eris tucks tail and rushes for the dunes. She knows her comrades and the Rebel scum will notice the Destroyer too, but by then it'll be too late for them live. Run, maybe.

And then-

The ground begins to crack beneath the Destroyer as it makes contact with the ground. The dunes spill and entomb the Imperial and New Republic forces in mountains of sand. First – screams of horror and orders to run are called. Now – total silence. That itself is deafening. Eris is so accustomed to the bang's and boom's of war, she's forgot the definition of Peace, what it's like to hear a newborn's cry as it arrives into their mother's arms.

One of the cracks in the ground is big enough for Eris to slip through. She smashes her helmet on a jagged rock, ruining its visor. Luckily, it didn't kill her.

The sand from the dunes seeps down the gaping crack. Eris blinks as she rises to her feet. Her back aches – it feels like a rancor punched it.

That's when she sees it.

Eris had to look twice, just to make sure she wasn't dreaming. A temple under the ground? How long had it been there? The architecture of the long-lost site suggests it's likely a millennia old – or more!

But that isn't the most interesting thing about it.

The temple itself is strangely similar to the cave that was found on Endor. Same red-coloured markings, black stone... There's no need for Eris to question her whereabouts. She spots the oval-shaped door. It's the entrance to the temple. But what's inside?

Overcome by intrigue, Eris walks over to the door and looks for a handle, hatch, anything. She has to get in there, though not for herself. No, she's never sought immeasurable power or immortality. This new discovery is for Naomi and her alone.

There's a slit at the side of the door. It actually matches the size of the sphere found in the cave on Endor. Could that be the mechanism for opening the door?

There's an inscription above the door. It reads: only those chosen may enter.

Generic, as usual, Eris complains. Unique to the special ones. People like beautiful, all-powerful Naomi, for instance. For her...

Then Eris realises it. She actually wants Naomi to be even more powerful than she already is. But who's to say that however powerful she was already is unlimited in terms of scope? Even if that is the case, Eris doesn't care. She'll force Naomi to become more powerful, if she has to.

Her mind runs rampant for a moment. She imagines Naomi as an all-powerful being. A goddess among the mediocrity of man. Muscle beyond natural capability, strength beyond imagination, the power to do anything because nothing could ever hope to even be a simplistic fraction in matching up against her.

Eris activates her comlink. "Admiral? You need to come down here. There's something I think you'll like..."

[hatour]

Chapter VI: Ascension

Naomi looks at the sphere contemplatively, holding it firmly in her grasp. She wonders how so small an object could've imbued her with so much power – power that, even now, grows rapidly. To see just how stronger she's become, she tightens her hold of the sphere. It's incomprehensible to her – she's strong enough to perhaps bench the weight of a TIE fighter, yet the sphere is relentless and withstands her strength. If anything, it actually causes her hand to sting, bleed, and form calluses.

Naomi's inside her personal transport – a heavily modified lambda-class shuttle – waiting patiently to arrive on Jakku, so she can examine the newly uncovered temple Eris found. Naomi thought what she found on Endor was solitary, that there weren't any more like it. But now, butterflies flutter in her stomach, excitement overcomes her. To have even more power is...

That's the thing: she can't think of a word to help describe her excitement. But the real question is is there a word in the Basic language that can be used to describe just how powerful she will become? If not, she'll make one.

A headache pains the young woman. It forces her to abruptly shut her eyes. Perhaps it'll pass if she concentrates on her utmost desires.

Then she sees it in her mind's eye:

A crowd of Imperials stands at attention as a hulking figure stands by the golden stairs, banner men, captains, sergeants, admirals and all. Their wonderment is shown all through their bulging eyes.

The figure itself is naked, but glowing radiantly with power. Its natural emittance of heat forces one of the statues by the side of some stairs to literally melt into a pool of molten gold.

The figure then stands between the crowds of Imperials. Its natural heat affects the crowd by making them sweat; perspiration oozes from their underarms and foreheads, and stinks worse than a Wampa's breath. The heat is unbearable, yet the crowd stares on at the figure.

The glow around the figure dims, allowing itself to be known. It's-

It's Naomi. There's no doubt about it.

"Admiral," the pilot of the shuttle calls, "we're nearing the landing zone."

'Admiral.' She's beyond that title now. Beyond any title normally given to man. It's a wonder, actually, why her loyal supports haven't started calling her 'Goddess' yet. Maybe she ought to force them into it.

"Alright," Naomi responds.

She rises from her chair and heads off to the landing ramp. The chair itself buckled under her bulk not that long after she sat in it and because of that, she was terribly uncomfortable sitting in it, but it had to make do until she arrived on Jakku.

The shuttle lands. The landscape around it is desolate; the recently crashed Star Destroyer lies a few feet in the distance, smoke rising from it. The ground is cracked, opened up like pores. Mountains of sand buries countless. Regardless of their faction, Naomi feels a hint of compassion for the men and women who died here. Not because they died. But because they could die.

Naomi can't quite put her finger on it, but somehow, she feels like she's immortal, evolved past the mediocrity of a lifespan, and unlocked its secrets. She also knows the original being who received this great power hadn't been as lucky as she is now, so why is Naomi any different?

Why was she even questioning her status?

Up ahead: a small squad of stormtroopers who arrived just before Naomi did. They've set up several rappel devices that will allow for them and Naomi to descend the crack behind them, where Eris and several other stormtroopers are situated.

Are you ready, Admiral?" the leading trooper asks. His voice is confident, but underneath his helmet is a face of surprise. He's right to behave as such; in front of him is a hulking woman, who he last saw as a lithe-framed commoner of the Imperial navy, but now she's close to being a literal goddess among men.

There it is again: the mention of the word 'Admiral.' A human term. Naomi isn't as pathetic as that, and she knows it. But she decides to play along for now.

She nods. She'll descend with the squad, but her method will not involve the rappelling equipment set up.

One after the other, the troopers rappel down the crack, landing softly on their feet next to Eris, who stands by eagerly.

Her armour's beyond repair - scratches, dents and burns decorate it abundantly. Yet, she still dons it. It's like a second skin to her. Until either the day is over, or it's fallen off her frame upon its own accord, she'll keep it on. Both her obliques are exposed to the sun; owing to the armour there being non-existent, yet the very centre of her abdominal armour is still intact, hiding her abs of steel.

By Eris' side: several Imperial banner men, captains and admirals. Loyal to Naomi's cause more than they are to the Empire's.

Naomi descends now. With a simple, yet delicate jump, she drops down the crack, landing gracefully by Eris' side. Naomi nods.

Naomi is larger compared to Eris, now. Not big enough to consider herself an evident superior, but larger nonetheless. Her muscle definition is now more apparent than it was in the past, when they last saw each other – which was only 5 hours past!

Naomi spots the temple door, then the slit by its side. "Are you sure this will work?" she asks Eris, pulling the sphere out from the pocket in her new custom-sized admiral's uniform. "What can we expect in here?"

"Power," is Eris' response. Good enough for Naomi.

Naomi places the sphere into the slit and stands back. Almost immediately, the orb begins to glow like a yellow sun; encompassed in light, it hums. There's a slight rumble, then the oval door literally rolls open, positioning itself to the side.

Up ahead: an unobstructed path paved in gold. As is the entirety of the room. At the far end of this room, a statue is positioned on either side of a flight of stairs. And then it hits Naomi.

She saw this same room in her dream. Or was it a vision of the future? Her excitement returns more powerful than ever.

At the top of the stairs is a golden bowl placed on a dais, similar to the one found in the cave on Endor.

Knowing what to do, Naomi can't bear to wait; she lightly pushes the stormtroopers whom are obstructing her path out of the way and begins to climb the stairs. The push may have been light, but it was still somehow surprisingly powerful enough to dent the troopers' armour to the point of being beyond reparable.

Eris gulps with nervousness. She wants Naomi to become more powerful, but what if something goes wrong? What if she dies? Eris can't bear the thought of losing Naomi, so she pushes past the troopers like Naomi did.

But it's too late.

Naomi places the sphere on the bowl, and almost immediately a beam of light shoots upwards from under her, covering her everywhere in light. The same euphoric feeling as the one she experienced on Endor courses through her, only this time more amplified; she was able to withstand drooling last time, but now? Now she welcomes it just as much as she does the power flowing into her.

The stormtroopers look on in awe as the light audibly vibrates. The room turns pitch-black for a moment before returning to its original degree of ambient lighting. But then-

The beam of light surrounding Naomi flickers. Eris knows what to do, from her experience with the cave on Endor that was subject to luck alone.

"Avert your eyes, you fools!" she shouts.

Some of the stormtroopers obey the command given to them almost instantly, but there are those still who are too amazed by the display in front of them. By the screams of ecstasy that emit from the pillar of light. Those who failed to listen to Eris, like those in the cave, burst into flames soon after. Their armour melts and sticks to their skin like glue. It's unbearable even for Eris. Their screams are heard, but don't encompass Naomi's own.

"I can see it. I can feel it," she cries. "The Force. It fuels me, takes me to even greater heights of power!"

But then the situation quickly changes as a second beam of light comes into existence, sourcing from the heart of the first. It shoots directly into Eris, encompassing her in its power, only-

The beam of light that covers Eris is brighter, broader, and more vibrant than the one that covers Naomi. Eris begins to feel the same euphoric feeling Naomi does. Her eyes glow the purest shade of gold, if only for a moment.

Her armour begins to creak and groan as her muscles fall slave to their forced expansion. Faster than Naomi's!

The ground shakes for a moment. The surviving Imperials remain as they are, albeit somewhat scared for their lives. After all, they do wonder if the second beam of light will cause them to burst into flames too.

The surface level ground of Jakku begins to crack, thus widening the cracks and causing more mayhem above. Then-

*THRUMP*

Two large pieces of debris fall directly on both Naomi and Eris respectively, ending the display

-

The debris rises from above Naomi on its own accord. Her vision is blurred, and blood oozes from her ears. She's more powerful now, but still slave to the mortal wounds of man.

Rising to her feet, she looks around. The temple is destroyed now. But this isn't Naomi's doing. Rather, it was-

"Eris?" Naomi looks around for her friend from atop the stairs, as the lucky survivors of the ordeal pick themselves up. There's a massive pile of rubble below her, where Eris was. Is she under that pile dead? Naomi runs down the stairs to the pile, anxiously. At this point, she doesn't care that she's bigger or stronger. All she cared about was Eris.

But then that very pile rises, just as if the one Naomi was under. The rocks dart forward to the back of the room, uncovering a trooper. Or at least, what was left of him.

Where was Eris, then?

Naomi feels a trickle of sweat descend her back. It was almost sudden.

"Admiral," a trooper calls pointing behind Naomi, holding his arm. Likely broken. "Look."

She turns and sees a glowing figure behind her. Golden light radiates from it. Naked. Large. Muscular – more so than Naomi.

She blinks.

The figure walks past the statues at the stairs Naomi descended from. The naked admiral blinks as one of the statues melts into a pool of molten gold. And then it hits her. What she saw was a vision of the future, but it wasn't her own.

The light that surrounds the figure dims, making its face known.

"Eris?" Naomi calls.

Eris pales Naomi in all aspects. She's taller, more muscular, bustier, and more beautiful. The scar on her left cheek is gone as well, replaced with smooth, flawless skin. Tanned somewhat. The definition in her muscularity is incomparable; the splits in her biceps are more apparent - twice as wide as they were before No! Three times as wide. Her veins are the purest shade of pink, thicker. A network of them almost everywhere; her biceps, quads, pelvis, calves...

Speaking of calves – hers are still heart-shaped, only now understandably more defined than Naomi's is. They twitch and swell on their own accord, audibly twisting and contorting themselves to a larger size.

As Naomi stands confoundedly in front of her most loyal subordinate, she watches with equal parts envy and trepidation as Eris' abs push themselves outward, goading them larger and more defined.

Eris grins. Then plants her lips on Naomi's own.

[hatour]

Chapter VII: Discoveries

Naomi is furious. She feels cheated out of her quest for power, to set things straight for the Empire. Her search for the group known as the Acolytes of the Beyond several weeks past was a success, this she knew. That, plus the fact the group itself would help give her what she wanted.

So, why was it she was the one out of her and Eris who was the inferior one? Eris is nobody but a common soldier, a Bantha calf next to its larger mother.

Naomi is... was different. She is somebody who was born out of greatness. The daughter of Bail Organa's younger brother – who believed deeply in the Empire's ideals – she knows her way around politics, but also knows action is a far more powerful act than squabbling pointlessly about what should be done next.

Her envy now towards Eris is dire. She is a good soldier, a loyal friend, but also getting in the way of what Naomi craves. She has to go.

But even though she knows this, Naomi feels conflicted. She wants as much power a human body can contain – if such a thing even has a limit – But there's something gnawing at the admiral. She can't quite understand it.

She remembers:

The kiss is long, hard, passionate. The motion was sudden to take hold, yet somehow Naomi was prepared for it, as if she anticipated it. The scent of lemon, apple, and orange all rolled into one as the kiss ensues.

The crowd of Imperials looks on in awe.

Naomi's and Eris' tongues wrestle with one another for a moment. Eris' hands hold Naomi's hips gently. Naomi's heart races, and Eris feels it against her breast.

The kiss continues if only for a moment, before Eris lightly pulls away. She bits her lip. This is Eris' way of saying thank you.

The kiss may have been passionate enough for them both to enjoy, but Naomi still hates Eris for what's happened. She hates the Acolytes of the Beyond for having cheated her. Like Eris, they too have to die. But Eris to die, Naomi has to become more powerful than her.

-

The lambda-class shuttle lands on the top of a mountain cliff on Ryoome. Naomi hears the snowstorm batter the hull violently. Before she arrived, alone – no pilot or personal guard – she knew it was the snowstorm season. Like she cared.

The landing ramp descends, and pushes some of the snow aside as it extends. Naomi disembarks, snarling.

She doesn't care that she's naked. She couldn't find any clothes that sustained her frame in the shuttle's en-suite wardrobe, so going it bare was a necessity. She'd have to brave the elements. Or rather, they would have to brave her.

As she walks across it, the snow-strewn path falls victim to her unnatural emittance of great heat, causing it to melt around her. The snow soaks her muscles, but she doesn't feel it. If anything, all she feels is her feet hitting the stone ground – the boiling hot stone ground at that!

Up ahead: a temple carved into the mountainside. Its pillar to support it are carved to represent the old masters: Palpatine; Plageuis; Malek and Revan. Each pillar is over 100 feet tall. Naomi smirks. She's almost as thick as each one! Given some time...

The temple has no door – it's open plan – so Naomi boldly crosses its threshold an enters a large hall – it too has pillars, though not carved to represent someone. However, as soon as she does so, her head aches. She reaches for her forehead. The pain is unbearable – so much that her eyes blur.

Then it stops almost as soon as it started.

"That always happens to those with no Force powers enter here," a voice calls. Naomi turns. "Everybody else would be dead on the floor, by now, frothing at the mouth."

A figure emerges from the shadows behind one of the pillars. "But you... you're different."

Naomi's eyes bulge. It's the same woman who she had made contact with on Ryoome a few weeks past. They're the same height now, yet Naomi is thicker. Veins protrude from her every inch of skin wherever possible.

"You've got some explaining to do." Naomi comes face-to-face with the figure. It is a woman, just as Naomi suspected those weeks past. Blonde, too.

"No, no, no." The woman smirks. "You failed to listen. You came to us for help."

"Yes. Help make me superior to oth-"

"NO!" the woman shouts. The voice is sinister, ethereal, as is her face when she shouts out. "You came to us for help on how to rebuild the Empire."

"In my image!" Naomi calls. "Yet my damn sergeant is bigger than me! I deserve power, not her."

The woman grins as she circles round Naomi continuously. "So the prophecy did come true."

Naomi's heart sinks. Up until now, she had known next to nothing about any prophecy. "You people are delusional. Always relying on prophecies to uncover the future."

"You know that's not true," the woman says. "You saw the future before you came here. Yet you couldn't see past your own selfish needs to know it was the future of the galaxy as it has been foretold."

Wait... So Eris' rise to godhood was supposed to happen? How?

"You were merely a piece in the grand game of chess," the woman adds.

Naomi knows now that she's heard enough of prophecies, godhood... of Eris. Enraged, she grabs the woman by the throat. "You're beginning to annoy me. You do not know power, even as it stands before you. And I want more."

Naomi's arm ripples larger almost instantly, tightening her grip around the woman's neck.

"I already have immeasurable power, but..." Naomi yelps softly as her growth continues. It's actually hurting her. "... what's a lot more, right?"

"I cannot give you want you want." The woman wriggles in Naomi's grip.

"At least tell me how Eris became how she is," Naomi urges.

"She... *choke* is Force-sensitive. Always has been. *choke* The individual is affected more greatly if they have the Force."

The woman knows she failed to mention that piece of information the last time she made contact with Naomi. But if she did, the prophecy would never have come true.

Naomi remembers:

Naomi reaches out to Eris' bicep. It flexes mightily, larger than Naomi's head. Veins. An impossibly detailed network of them travels here, there, everywhere. Even they have grown. The limb is harder than plasteel – no easy feat,

Eris' quads ripple, beckoning for Naomi to caress them. She does so, kneeling down on both knees. At this given moment, Naomi is nothing but a twig in comparison with Eris, and for that reason, a flurry of emotions dances through her mind: lust, envy, hatred – most of it hatred. After all, she has spent most of her valuable and resources so that Eris could be in her place worshipping Naomi – as it should have been. Now, it's all been for nothing.

"I want her dead!" Naomi cries. "I've spent too much time and resources to be the grunt between the two of us."

"I cannot give you want you want *choke*," the woman manages to blurt out. The life is ebbing away from her now. She can feel it. Naomi? She can see it – the little blue and white particles of the Force she possesses are oozing out of her. "Only *choke* what you need."

That's when Naomi feels these very particles of the Force suction themselves into her, fuelling her somehow. Her heart races faster. Her metabolism is pushed to even greater heights, prompting for the young woman's appetite to grow. Her stomach rumbles loudly, shaking the very foundations of the temple itself! Her bones crack and stretch too, allowing for her to grow in height, surpassing the woman she holds in her grasp. The power increase will forever be insatiable, Naomi knows this. But there's only so much of it she can obtain each time. The question is, is Eris any different?

The thought of that makes Naomi bite her tongue in anger. The bite is so fierce, it would've made an ordinary human's tongue bleed - or worse! But Naomi is beyond human comprehension. Even if she herself is surpassed by someone else.

She remembers:

Eris lifts Naomi's head up with her finger, making the admiral's eyes level with her own. Her pecs ripple and dance in accordance with her movements.

They kiss once more – more passionately than the first.

Eris glows.

"Give me what I want, you say?" Naomi queries.

The woman manages to nod despite being held in Naomi's firm grip. She drops to the ground as Naomi releases her grip on her.

"Fine," Naomi sighs. "Make Eris more powerful."

[hatour]

Chapter VIII: Worship

Eris moans with pleasure as the masseuse tries to knead her muscular flesh. Eris knows it's virtually impossible for the Twi'lek woman by her side to give her massage – her muscles are just too hard, too powerful to work on them. She's more than welcome to try though.

The room is wide, purposely so. Eris' bulk is now far beyond Naomi's own, as are her strength and authority within the Empire: they call her Goddess now, as opposed to her original title as sergeant. A markedly noticeable difference. A pleasing one.

The Twi'lek begins to sweat, applying as much pressure to her kneading as possible now. But it's an action done simply in vain. The only thing that has come to fruition are calluses on the woman's hands, testament to her pointless endeavour. Regardless, Eris wanted it to be done.

The huge woman's calves twitch ticklish-ly, the Twi'lek moving her easily toward them. Their size is beyond any human capability – at least three times the Twi'lek's head. On the surface of the woman's smooth skin, a protruding network of pink veins throbs and dances.

The Twi'lek stops for a moment to gaze wondrously at the massive woman's freakishly vascularity. Initially, she thought Naomi was huge, but then her eyes were set on an even larger, stronger being.

"You like them, don't you?" Eris says with a soothing tone. Her hands are tucked under her hulking chest, causing her back to flex almost involuntarily. Her entire body's mass creates a shadow that fully engulfs the Twi'lek.

She stammers, lost for words.

"Oh come now. Everybody else loves these muscles of mine, so it's only natural you should do too," Eris grins. To emphasise her point, she flexes her back. The wide expanse of she-muscle audibly stretches so loudly, the Twi'lek covers her ears with her hands.

"I-I-I think they're beautiful, Goddess." She resumes her given task almost immediately, realising she's looked at Eris' inhuman largeness long enough. If she happened to look longer, she'd likely be driven mad with desire, with the want to be as strong as Eris is. But no matter how covetous she is of it, she will never be as powerful as Eris is.

"Beautiful. Divine. Transcendent." Eris tilts her head up slightly, allowing her to look out the window at the large entity. "Take your pick from that bunch, and that's what they are. That's what I am."

The large entity in question is a massive statue of Eris. Every miniscule detail of Eris is sculpted into the statue's very being: every muscle flexed to its extremities – then accentuated to make them look like they were forcefully pushed harder, every vein, every piercing eye, every follicle of her flowing hair, and every manicured toe. Eris settled for nothing but utter perfection. She wanted to one day look at herself in the form of a statue. In the past as a sergeant, she'd settle for a promotion no matter how low it was, but as the goddess she is now, she possesses the ultimate promotion.

At 50ft tall, the statue towers over Eris' smaller frame, but she is not in any way less powerful. In fact, despite the sturdiness of the material from which the statue is made, it only exudes a mere fraction of Eris' authority.

To bolster just how much of an influence she now has over the Empire, its entirety has effectively been reconstituted to serve Eris' every whim no matter how trivial or vital. They will obey without question or remark. To serve a literal goddess is in no way something that's easy to come by. Regardless, it's not as if they could ever stand up to her.

-

The throne creaks as Eris leans in face-to-face with the man who's been a thorn in her side for some time -
Gregory Sega, the same man who at first thought Naomi's claims that something could imbue her with the means to bring the Empire out of its darkest of times. Oh, how he was wrong.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out about your little act of insubordination, Gregory?" Eris comments. Her hands dig into the throne's armrests, denting them somewhat unintentionally. "How could you ever hope to overthrow me?"

A large shadow looms over Gregory as Eris stands over him. As if he wasn't doing so enough, he sweats even more; dark patches of sweat make themselves known under his arms, growing darker as time passes.

Gregory himself is chained and held in place by a ray shield. Down on his knees, he whimpers like a dog.

"I am a GOD to you. An immortal being" Eris adds, her towering muscular presence merely inches from Gregory's face. "Everyone but you and a very select number of others stands by my side as I guide the Empire into the light. Metaphorically speaking of course."

"You are worse than Palpatine," Gregory final says after a long period of silence - he hadn't said a word since being dragged into the throne room.

"Finally, it speaks!" Eris cheerfully calls, clapping her hands together. "I was beginning to think you had your tongue cut out or something."

She kneels down on one knee, now directly face-to-face with Gregory. Her traps bulge as she smiles contentedly. She can smell the fear radiate off him. She inhales the sweat feverishly, and shivers.

"But is me being worse than him really such a bad thing?" Eris strokes Gregory cheek with the palm of her hand. The surprising level of warmth emitting from the superior being who is Eris only makes Gregory sweat even more profusely. "I mean, stuff actually gets done, now. Palpatine only sat in his throne and waited until his life ebbed away slowly whilst overseeing the results of his galactic conquest over the Rebellion."

Eris turns away to the line of stormtroopers who stand still as ever. They're wider, taller. But that's not all.

"Whereas I have made worthy changes to the Empire," states. Looking to one of the troopers, she says, "soldier take off your helm."

Complying, the trooper removes its helmet, revealing a mane of flowing red hair and piercing eyes coupled with dimples. The other troopers in the hall follow suit, revealing the same red hair, piercing eyes, and dimples.

"For instance, the High Guard." Eris sizes the first red-haired trooper. Likely 6 feet 2, around 200 pounds of sheer muscular mass. Big. But still small compared to Eris. "Stormtroopers modified to be bigger, stronger, and smarter than the usual trooper. An all-female army."

Then Gregory spots the one painful fact that's been staring at him the face the entire time – all 50 instances of it.

"Possessing my altered DNA courtesy of the results from the incident in the temple, these are clones... of me. Only with a purposefully different hair colour. I want everyone to tell the difference between my red-haired lackeys and blonde divinity." Eris chuckles, spotting Gregory's face turn white with fear. She stands up again to her full height. "Ta-da! Would love to see the New Republic go up against me now. I just gave them a reason to think more than twice."

Just how powerful are these soldiers though, Gregory says inwardly.

"Ah, that's a good question," Eris comments with a smile. She sees Gregory's face turn shocked. "Oh, don't be so surprised. I can do all kinds of stuff. Insane stuff."

Eris motions for the first redheaded trooper to come to the centre of the throne room. With surprisingly loud steps, she comes directly behind Gregory, who still whimpers.

"Their strength is merely a simple fraction of my own," Eris says, watching the trooper undress down to her black underwear and bra. "However, my strength continuously increases. So what does that say for them or Bekka here," she continues, referring to the trooper who just undressed.

With a cunning smile, Bekka literally rips the chains apart from Gregory within the ray shield, still surprisingly keeping his arms intact. The ray shield's energy would've killed any ordinary human being, yet Bekka barely flinched.

Holding the remains of the chains in her grip, Bekka tears them asunder one link at a time until finally they are no longer chains but simply chunks of broken metal. She casts them aside.

The ray shield cuts off.

"Now." Eris leans in from the throne. "Feel the power Bekka possesses." Gregory blinks confusedly. This irritates Eris. "Feel her! Take your hand and cry as you come to terms with the superiority Bekka is naturally born with!"

Quick as a flash, Gregory takes his hand up to the flexed bicep Bekka displays for him. It's perfectly rounded, hard. Veiny. She glares down at him as Gregory readily examines the powerful limb. At first, he was so hell-bent on instigating an upheaval against Eris, but now he knows why everybody is at her side – she's so divine, beautiful – Bekka was a prime example of this.

His hand still on Bekka's bicep, Gregory's eyes bulge out as he watches the muscular limb climb higher, adding mass on its own accord, audibly swelling up like stretching leather.

"They have the same growing ability as I, only..." Eris' entirety twitches: her veins throb and rise to the surface for a moment, her biceps bulge on their own accord. "... not as fiercely."

Bekka takes hold of Gregory's head and kisses him passionately. His tongue is, for a brief moment, almost literally inhaled by Bekka's vacuum-like embrace. He stamps the ground, needing the air.

Finally, Bekka pulls away and shivers with ecstasy. Almost literally afterward, her muscles balloon larger, engulfing Gregory in a black shadow. Now naked, owing to her underwear and bra being subject to explosive destruction, Bekka smiles.

She takes hold of Gregory's head once again, already wanting more. He welcomes it with an open mouth, but he doesn't get what he expects. Instead, his vision turns black instantly as Bekka wrings his neck. With a loud thud, Gregory's body hits the floor.

"That'll teach you to be rebellious against me," Eris states as she watches Bekka suggestively stride towards her. Then, when face-to-face, Bekka kneels down on her knees and kisses Eris' feet. "Goddess," she says quietly.

[hatour]

Chapter IX: The Mandalorian

The throne room's door slides open to the side with a hiss. Boots stamp in an echoic manner as the helmet-bearing stranger makes its way across the wide hall. At the far end, Eris sits eagerly on her throne; her legs spread open to assert her dominion. To her right, Bekka stands with her hands behind her back.

The stranger itself is clothed in Mandalorian armour, painted in a palette of silvers, greys, and blacks. The visor on the helm is supposedly gunmetal grey, yet is still dark enough for Eris not to see through it. A utility belt too, filled with various gadgets and tools. A heavily modified EE-3 blaster rifle is hooked to the belt, and just like the armour, it's decorated in black, silver, and grey.

At either side of the throne room there are at least a dozen of the High Guard, all standing tall and mighty, their armour thick, just like the muscles underneath them. Through their own helms, they look down inquisitively at the miniscule stranger who's just arrived. Compared to them, this person is but an ant, a speck of existence. Yet, the outsider walks on boldly.

"Ah, good you're finally here," Eris says with a smile. She scrutinizes the newcomer carefully. He looks professional. Quiet, straightforward, looks to be someone who doesn't take no for an answer - just the kind of person she was after. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't want to take up on my offer."

The Mandalorian stays silent, and then he looks around him at the High Guard. They all stand taller than he does by a good few inches. But he knows one thing they don't: being bigger is never an advantage in combat. It always makes you a bigger target, if anything.

"So..." Eris began, leaning in. "Shall we introduce ourselves?" I'm-" but the Mandalorian cuts her off.

"Stop" he says, raising his hand skyward. His voice is synthetic in nature. "I don't do names. I find they can lead to problems in the future."

Eris glances at Bekka with a smirk. He's a bold one too, evidently, being confident enough to directly confront Eris, whose strength in her bicep alone matches the totality of the Imperial army's might.

"For instance, if my client 'talks' and gives away my name after I've removed the thorn in their side, and I get a bounty on myself in return... I know not to trust them ever again." The Mandalorian gives Eris a stare-down through his helm, his eyes glazed with anger. "So, they have to go."

Eris and Bekka smirk at one another knowingly in return. This bounty hunter is exactly who they're looking for.

"Besides... I know who you are," the bounty hunter says. A cunning smile forms on his lips from behind the helm. "A goddess or not, I don't answer to people like you."

"Do you have any idea who you are addressing, weakling?" Bekka scolds him. She closes her fist and shakes with anger. The determination to hurt the Mandalorian is building up within her, but Eris literally feels this desire and raises her hand in protest.

"It's alright, Bekka. He's confident in himself, I'll admit." She leans in further, causing the throne to and crack under her bulk. "But that's something we don't see in a lot of people these days, especially after the war."

The bounty hunter stands his ground confidently, taking a quick glance at Bekka.

"We could use a little confidence," Eris adds.

"Money is what I answer to." The Mandalorian stares into Eris' eyes again, hoping she is smart enough to take the hint he gives. "The more of it you toss my way, the more 'interested' I'll be in what you have to say."

Then, a loud thump echoes through the throne room as a large bag is tossed in front of the bounty hunter from nowhere. He looks down at it and smiles through his helm.

"There's more where that came from," Eris states. "All I have to do is think it, and another bag will drop down next to you.

"100 thousand credits for you to take up the job now, plus another 300 when you get it done," Eris explains. She grins as the bounty hunter readily plummets his hand down into the bag and rummages through in a greedily manner. "I'll maybe toss in something extra, if you manage to do it quicker than expected."

"Time is money, after all," Bekka says.

"Exactly," Eris agrees.

The bounty hunter chuckles softly, seen as a form of light insult towards Eris and Bekka. Eris glares. "The money is right. That's for sure."

"Ah, that's good to hear." Eris says with relief as she leans back against the throne. It audibly creaks and cracks further as her back muscles press against it. It won't be long now before its integrity diminishes, and she'll need it replaced. For a second time.

"The nature of the job? The target's name?" the bounty hunter questions. "I need details."

Eris clicks her fingers and, almost immediately afterward, a large hologram of Naomi appears between her and the bounty hunter from nowhere. The clarity in the projection displays the admiral's supreme muscular definition. Third to Eris, following on from Bekka.

The hologram itself is six feet and three inches tall, producing a life-sized representation of the admiral.

"This is Admiral Naomi Thont," Eris declares, her finger pointing directly at the hologram. "She's become a bit of a problem for me: you see... I don't want anybody to overtake me in regards to power. She might have been the person who gave me power in the first place, but that doesn't mean she's not willing to take it from me. She knows I'm far more powerful than her now, after all, and at first, she was the one of the two of us who wanted to be the goddess."

Eris grins. She can feel it again – the increase in power. It may be random and unexpected in both how and when it happens, but she doesn't care. As long as it happens, and she's in the lead.

The High Guard feel her power increase too. As a hive mind, when Eris grows, they feel it, and when they grow, Eris feels it. Only... it happens to Eris almost constantly. There are times when she feels it, and times when she doesn't. But the fact is, it always happens on a constant 24-hour, 7-day basis.

"So, you want her dead?" the bounty hunter responds paying no heed to growth just took place, his arms folded. He scrutinizes the sheer massiveness of the woman displayed before him, of his bounty. "She shouldn't be too much of a problem."

What the bounty hunter says is true. He's faced far more formidable foes than the massiveness who is Naomi before. In fact, he's faced enemies bigger than Eris in size before.

"No. Not dead. I want her wounded, but brought here," she acknowledges.

"It's not much of a bounty if I don't kill her," the bounty hunter explains.

Bekka cuts in, aggressively. "Tell you what: bring her here alive and we'll pay you triple." She motions for the bounty hunter to direct his attention to a stash of bags in the corner, likely filled with Credits. "A few broken bones here and there are fine, of course. Though, preferably a broken spine."

"More money? Hmm, tempting. But the thing is, that to me is trivial in the end. Sure, I'll happily take it, but I do all this for the fun of it." The bounty hunter laughs. "I might as well do this for free."

Eris contemplates for a moment the comparisons in both size and strength between Naomi and the bounty hunter. Obviously, one is the stronger of the two, and likewise, one is the faster. Subsequently, she grows concerned somewhat for the hunter's wellbeing. Or rather, for the success of the task given to him.

"What would you need in regards of equipment to bring the target down?" she asks.

"Lady. With what I have stashed in this belt here, and in my ship's armoury, you won't need to give me any tools."

Bekka rolls her eyes. "I still don't see why we have to pay somebody to do this job, Goddess." She moves her eyes up and down the bounty hunter, comparing herself to him. He's smaller in height and width. She's at least 25 times stronger than he is, and 9 times faster. "If anybody should be carrying out this job, it should be the High Guard, not this insect of a being." She scrunches her face up in disgust.

"True, true," Eris nods in agreement. "But the reality of the situation is his survival against the Sarlacc in the Great Pit of Carkoon can be used to his advantage against Naomi. Nobody expects to come out from that."

Bekka knows Eris is right. But then it just hits her. The bounty hunter is Boba Fett! How did he manage to survive the Sarlacc pit on Tatooine? Because of this, her disgust towards the bounty hunter vanishes, is replaced with adoration.

"That's true," Boba says. "No-one ever expects to see my face again. Yet when they do, it's the last thing they see before a blaster bolt meets their head and ends their pathetic lives."

The High Guard quietly murmurs to itself about Boba Fett. Before Eris had reached godhood, she had such a high regard for the famed bounty hunter - she even had a crush on him. Because of this, her clones each share the same affection. But the real Eris now? She cares not for something as trivial as love. She only devotes her time and self to possessing more power than she already has at her fingertips, if ever such a thing is possible.

"However," Eris says, "I will not impede on your desire to finally test your strength, Bekka." She bites her lip. "I can literally feel your strength, your desire to test it begin to reach the edge, almost touch it – which is something I will never dare have." She flexes her bicep for emphasis, causing a small mountain of rock-hard flesh to rise to a sharp, veiny peak. "So I pity you and allow you to go with Boba here."

He moves in closer to the throne in anger. "But this is my job, that's..." he points to the bag of Credits, "my money."

"Don't worry, Fett. Whether Bekka here does your job for you or not, you'll still get your money and a little extra if she does happen to be better at it than you are. Which, admittedly, is going to be a given."

Eris knows she's aggravated Boba by this point, but doesn't care. It's not as if he could harm her – nobody can.

Boba growls, "Fine."

-

The Slave 1 soars through the vastness of space, through the never-ending sea of stars. Like Boba, it has received a paint job – a palette of greys, silvers, and blacks.

Inside, Boba and Bekka sit in the cockpit. She continuously asks him questions; He repeatedly responds with aggravation, while not actually answering them.

"So what's behind the mask, then? Scars? Chemical burns?" Bekka asks cheerfully. Despite her evident surpassing of Boba in size, strength, and speed, she can't help but act just as much a fan of Boba as her genetic template. She giddily turns onto her side, forcing her muscles to strain the armour from underneath and repeats the question. The leather in the seat creaks and tears under her bulk.

"You're really starting to annoy me with all these questions, Bekka." Boba flicks a switch on the control panel of the Slave 1. "For the last hour, you've been asking me really, really personal questions. All of which are painful to answer."

"No," Bekka corrects Boba. "To all these questions, you've given me nothing but an awkward silence in return," Bekka responds. "It's almost as if... you don't know the answers."

Boba sighs. "No. I don't have any chemical burns or scars, alright?"

Bekka nods and then smiles contentedly, happy with the response Boba has given her.

He flicks another switch on the control panel, and rises from the cockpit seat. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I've got some stuff to do."

He turns to his side in an effort to squeeze past Bekka's largeness, but only ends up being pressed between her muscles, preventing him from breathing. Eventually, he manages to pull himself free and moves on down the corridor.

"Sorry about that," Bekka says with guilt. She isn't sure, but she thinks Boba's response is a faint yet wheezy 'It's alright.'

A door behind her hisses open and Boba walks through its threshold. Once it closes again, a thought drifts through Bekka's mind: was he telling the truth? Curiosity comes over her, so she clambers out of the chair and heads to the door Boba walked through. It hisses open and Bekka walks through it.

The room itself is a small bedroom with a bunkbed, small table with two chairs, and a lamp, where Boba stands with his back to Bekka.

Hanging above the table is a small photo of somebody dressed in Mandalorian warrior that has greens, greys, and reds as it colour palette – Boba before his deliberate decision to repaint his armour to fool his enemies into thinking he is somebody else.

"I knew you'd come in here," he says. "Curiosity got the better of you, didn't it?"

Bekka nods in shame. She can't believe she's let her childlike inhibitions get the better of her. She's one of the betters of everyone else in the galaxy, after all. Something as innocent as adoration got in her way. Shev won't let that happen again.

"Well... I might as well show you, then." He slowly begins to remove his helmet, first undoing the small straps at the sides.

"I don't have any scars or chemical wounds to hide, really," he adds.

The helmet is finally removed and the bounty hunter's head exposed. This causes Bekka to blink. "You- you're-"

"Not Boba Fett. I know." The hunter drops the helmet to the floor with a definitive clatter and it rolls down the room to Bekka's foot.

"Then, who are you?" she asks, picking the famed helm up and examining it.

"I'm Lana," the bounty hunter answers. Her long black hair unfurls and cascades down the back of her armour. "Lana Fett."

"Lana Fett?"

Lana nods and gives a small friendly smile. "I'm Boba's daughter."

[hatour]

Chapter X – Occupation

Naomi gulps with trepidation, looking skywards at the massive marble statue of Eris. This is the third statue of her friend she's come across in the streets of Coruscant within a five-mile radius, and she's certain she'll happen upon another one soon.

The statue of Eris is sculpted to represent her as a massive, powerful being with her gargantuan muscles flexed to their utmost, her not-as-massive followers the High Guard standing behind her, their own large limbs tensed impressively. Standing at over 200 hundred feet tall, the monumental statue overlooks the galactic senate building burning in the distance.

War has come again to the cityscape planet of Coruscant, though this time against the seemingly invincible Imperial High Guard. The regular Imperial ranks are diminishing, close to being enveloped by the rippling masses of the High Guard. Because of this, the regulars are defecting to the New Republic as a means to possible stand a chance against the massive women, of hoping there is a weakness against them out there somewhere.

Despite all the violence taking place around her, Naomi continues to venture through the streets of Coruscant, in her mission to help Eris become more powerful.

She reaches into the deep pocket of her cape that is surprisingly large enough to cover her bulk. Then again, it is an extra-large piece of apparel primarily designed for Besalisks. She pulls out a holomap and reads from it.

"Just a few more buildings this way, and-"

*THROOM!*

A column of dust forms as somebody crashes through the wall of the building in front of Naomi. The person – a New Republic soldier – clambers to his feet, beaten and bruised. He shakes uncontrollably, overcome with fear.

"Ready for more, I see," a voice in the dust calls. A scuff of a boot.

The soldier yelps as he is pulled forwards, further into the dust. "No, please don't."

"D'aww! Pleading for mercy?" the voice says. It's feminine, powerful, and full of authority. "It didn't do your friend much good, so what makes you think you're any different?"

The dust clears, allowing Naomi to look at whom the voice belonged to. Her eyes bulged out. It's a woman, muscles rippling everywhere, her armour blown to shreds, revealing her supreme, inhuman musculature.

First, Naomi notices the woman's obliques. Dense, rising and falling in accordance with her slow, steady breathing. Not a single wound present on them. No scratch, cut, or bleed. It's almost as if her actual flesh is a living suit of armour.

The behemoth of a woman is so muscular in comparison to Naomi; the former admiral quickly presses her back up against a nearby wall to hide, overcome to equal parts shock and surprise, covering her mouth with her hand.

The massive woman extends her arm out and twists her wrist. This causes the soldier to float in the air, clutching his throat.

"I could kill you right now by closing my fist, thus crushing your windpipe," the woman explains, a manic smile on her lips.

The soldier barely manages to respond, only doing so with a simple "Urk."

"But where would be the fun in that, huh?" the woman asks. "This body of mine - it needs testing, probing..." She flexes her free arm a few times, causing the literal mountain of muscle that rests on it to rise prominently to a fierce peak. ".. Worshipping, loving."

She releases her grip on the soldier, dropping him to his knees, still clutching his now-inflamed throat.

That's when Naomi realises two things – the woman used the Force and she looked just like Eris, only it wasn't her. Eris was never a redhead. So, who was it? It was just a simple – though not in the literal sense – trooper from the Imperial High Guard.

"I'm giving you this one chance to live," the woman says, extending her left leg out to the soldier, "if you do what I tell you."

The thigh plating in the woman's armour groans as she flexes her quad underneath it. Taking the hint, the soldier reaches outwards with his hands and begins to remove it, piece by piece revealing more of the woman's massiveness.

"Good boy. Now..." the woman forcefully takes the soldier's hand and places it on her bulging quad. "Worship me."

From round the corner, Naomi starts to worship the trooper. At first, he appears to be doing so against his will, but as time goes by, grows more willingly in the act. First, he kneads the seemingly indestructible flesh as best he can, even though doing so is utterly impossible in the end. This in turn causes him to develop calluses on his hands after only a few moments.

However, despite the soldier's growing eagerness, the trooper is evidently far from pleased. She can't feel the pressure, only his cold hands on her comparably supernaturally warm skin.

Then the soldier's eyes bug out because of watching the trooper's quads audibly expand in front of him, spreading his callused fingers apart inch by inch. It's a euphoric feeling for both people. In celebration of her increase in power, the trooper lifts the soldier up by the front, his legs against her hips, and presses him up against the nearby wall with such force it cracks slightly.

Immediately afterward, the two begin to kiss passionately. In between each kiss, the trooper's strength surges, taking her to new heights of superiority.

The passion between both people reaches a critical point eventually, as the trooper rips the soldier's uniform off like tissue paper, compressing his backpack between her monumental thighs with ridiculous ease, and begin to have sex in the middle of the alleyway.

Somewhat discomfited by the display before her, Naomi presses on.

-

Sometime later, Naomi finally arrives at her destination – the old Jedi Temple. She's come here to find something that will allow Eris' power to reach new heights, courtesy of the Acolytes of the Beyond. How ironic, she thought, that the Sith knew of something in the Jedi Temple that would help her aid Eris' quest for more power.

But after seeing all the violence in the streets, the executions in Eris' name, and the statues dedicated to her seen every five miles... Naomi now isn't sure if helping Eris is a good thing. Sure, they both want to bring the Empire out of its vulnerable state, but Eris' godhood has seen her vanity go to her head. What would happen if she were given more power? Would it be good or bad? Likewise, Naomi doesn't believe in killing innocents. She is a goddess like Eris, but she has morals that she intends to stick by.

She found it – the crystal. It was deep in the Jedi Archives just like the holomap pointed out, and she now hold it in her hand.

"Freeze!" someone shouts, their weapon aimed directly at Naomi's forehead.

She turns to face the person, still holding the crystal. But tears run down her cheeks.

"I-I don't want to do this. I..."

But then Naomi realises whom has their gun trained on her – Leia Solo.

"You?" the hulking woman queries.

Leia stands stiff as a board, her aim never failing. Hooked onto her belt is a lightsaber. She extends her hand out. "Give me the crystal, then. You don't have to do this."

"But this crystal." Naomi examines the blood red shard in the palm of her hand. "With it, I could be more powerful than Eris. I could rule the galaxy, make her the lesser being, and grovel at my feet."

The simple act of holding the crystal in her hand causes the veins in Naomi's arm to prominently rise and pop out to the surface of her skin.

"Holding it now, I already feel stronger ten times over." Naomi grins manically. "She may have the Force at her advantage, but with this – I would be the goddess between the two of us."

Leia extends her other arm out now, in a consoling manner. "Please. Put the crystal down. I'm sure we can talk this over."

Naomi's mind is conflicted. She holds literally unlimited power in her hands. With it, she can do anything. Yet at the same time, she doesn't want to forget her morals. The tears flow down her cheeks again, in equal parts sorrow and desire.

"Please," Leia urges, "listen to me."

Then she drops the crystal to the temple floor and smashes it into small useless chunks between her feet. Finally relieved with her decision, Naomi sits on the floor with her back against the wall. "Now nobody can take its power."

Leia slowly walks up to Naomi, an expression of sorrow on her face. "It must have hard for you to do."

"You have no idea, Solo." Naomi sniffles, and rubs the tears from her cheeks.

Naomi watches from a window as the violence outside escalates. Pillars of smoke rise high above the cityscape of Coruscant. Nearby, a small contingent of the Imperial High Guard marches down the street, blaster bolts deflecting on their steel-hard skin. Their armour is shredded, allowing the women's muscularity to be shown in its full splendour. A massive shadow is cast over the pavement as each High Guard flexes as she moves further down the street.

"I have to stop this," Naomi says. "I have to stop Eris."

Leia crouches down next to the behemoth woman, smiling. "I might be able to help you with that."

[hatour]

Chapter XI – Outmatched

Naomi holds the lightsaber in her hand, moving it up, down, and around to get a good look at it from all angles. The handgrip is bronze with thick strips of black and a matching magnetic stabilizing ring. Naomi can't quite judge exactly how old the Jedi weapon is, but in short, it's old.

"So, you're saying this will help us defeat Eris?" she asks Leia. Naomi finds it hard to believe how a weapon as simple as a lightsaber could bring the goddess down. She scoffs, turning down Leia's nod of certainty. "How?"

"Well, I hope it works," Leia responds, taking the lightsaber from the behemoth woman. Naomi is surprised to see the weapon didn't fall victim to crushing from her grip. "Otherwise, we'll be facing a regime far worse than the one I fought to remove for years. And this new government – ruled by an immortal being at that."

Shaking her head, Naomi scoffs again. "So, you have little to no certainty this will actually work?" She turns away, looking down at the streets of Coruscant from the Jedi Archives window.

"No." Leia stashes the lightsaber onto her back of her belt. "But I remain optimistic."

"How exactly was that lightsaber made in the first place?" Naomi asks, turning back to Leia. She walks up to the smaller woman.

"I assume you know about the Twi'lek woman from the days of the Old Republic?" the princess queries, sizing the colossal woman up. She's at least a whole foot taller than she is, and five times as thick. "Otherwise, you wouldn't look like this."

"Are you telling me she made it?" Naomi responds, clearly taken aback. As light as it was, her gasp of surprise was a gust of wind to Leia, whose long hair blew in tandem with it.

"No, no," she retorts, caressing her hair with her hand to flatten it down again. "It was made to counteract against her by a secret sect, whose whereabouts are unknown to this day."

"What happened? Why did they build it?" Naomi had so many questions about this issue. Who is the sect? Do they still exist?

"As always with power, eventually you can have so much of it, it starts to twist your mind," Leia answers. "It can make you go mad, power-hungry."

"That's the case with Eris, isn't it?" Naomi lowers her head and sighs.

But then a question boils inside the massive woman's head. One that just might be pivotal.

"What about these High Guard troopers? How would they be affected?" she asks.

Admittedly, this is something Leia hadn't taken into account. What would happen, if anything, to the High Guard if their genetic template died? Would they follow suit, or simply live on, though with vengeance in their hearts for their goddess' death?

"I assume they'd do the same and die with her," Leia answers.

Satisfied, Naomi nods, although convinced Leia's response is a blatant lie.

"But what if Eris finds out about the lightsaber and destroys it?" Naomi suddenly asks, realising that if her former friend does find out, all their hopes for a free galaxy will be crushed.

"Argh, I didn't think about that." Leia cusses under her breath.

But then Naomi comes up with an idea. "Wait a minute. You have your own lightsaber apart from this one, right?"

Leia nods. "Yeah. Why?"

"I think I have an idea," Naomi smiles.

-

The two women head down the hallway of the Jedi Temple, geared up and ready to hopefully take down Eris for good. Until Naomi spots two figures up ahead. One is a bounty hunter dangerously similar to the dead Boba Fett, the other an Imperial High Guard. Naomi then realises the High Guard is the same one she saw in the alleyway not that long ago, only twice as big now – it was Bekka and Lana.

"I was beginning to think we'd actually have to start looking for you, you know," the trooper says with a coy smile. She looks down at Lana, who takes her helm off and tosses across the hall. "But our shared mutual link – the power that courses endlessly through our veins – led you straight to us. I sniffed you out, almost quite literally. The smell of your power is weaker than my own, which is what made you stand out the most between the two of us."

Bekka looks down at herself and scrutinizes her inhuman musculature. Compared to Naomi, she is giant and will continue to be so, perhaps endlessly.

"Oh wait... there is of course the matter of me being the biggest between the three of us," Bekka adds. "Or would that be the three of us put together? I dunno." To stress her point, the trooper flexes her biceps and they rise to sharp, split, veiny peaks, tearing the bicep armour to shreds like tissue paper.

"Who are you?" Naomi grits her teeth. Instinctively, she knows this woman ahead of her will do her harm.

"It doesn't matter who we are," Lana cuts in, unhooking her blaster from her belt. "What does is you're coming with us." She glances over at Leia, who has her hand inches from her lightsaber. "You and your little Jedi friend. Talath would pay a pretty penny for her head – a million Credits for a solo."

Lana then pictures herself laying her back on a mountain of Credits, laughing. She'd be set up for life if Leia's head were handed to Talath the Hutt, Jabba's cousin.

"Yeah, I'd quite like that." Lana cocks her rifle at Leia. "I think that's what I'll do. Only this time, he doesn't mind disintegrations, unlike Vader."

"Like that'll happen!" Leia shouts. "It was bad enough I had to be a slave to Jabba those months ago."

Bekka grins. "It's not like you'll be given a choice, Solo." Her chest muscle audibly groan underneath the chest plate in her armour, forcing it to visually twist and contort in front of Naomi and Leia. "At my current strength level, I could likely break your legs and would gladly drag you to the Goddess."

"Goddess?" Naomi shakes her head. "So, Eris really has gone power-crazy."

"But breaking your legs now would be too easy for me to do, and would actually be too boring." Bekka looks at her two foes. Naomi may be bigger than Leia, but Bekka is at least three times bigger than Naomi is. And her strength? She isn't sure if there's even a limit to it. "But like the Goddess, I just adore challenges."

Bekka's traps bulge violently, giving rise to a network of sickening, six-inch-thick veins that coil around her smooth silky skin. The display is so abhorrent, it makes Naomi and Leia both feel like gagging, but they steel their stomach.

"The thing is about this challenge between us two mini goddesses; it will most likely be more of a one-sided beating in favour of my larger, strong self than an actual fight." Bekka asserts a dominant pose by going into a front lat spread that engulfs the hallway in a massive shadow. "I hope you realise that."

"Size isn't everything," Naomi responds.

Lana smirks as Leia ignites her lightsaber. A clear blue blade hums to life, glowing against Leia's cheek. "I'm going to enjoy this," the bounty hunter says with an eager smile.

-

Naomi lands a punch to Bekka's armour. Her blow is a powerful one, hard enough to make a normal human being fly backwards. Yet Bekka barely flinched, and only caused her armour to crack only slightly. As such, the punch is also hard to make Naomi's hand sting. Bekka's armour is far thicker than Naomi anticipated, as if it was made from the same metal Star Destroyers are.

Bekka laughs at Naomi's pathetic, flimsy blow. "Is that the best you can do?" She returns the gesture with a punch of her own. Her strike is different, causing Naomi to spin around for a moment. "Maybe if you actually put a little heart into it..." Another punch, this time to Naomi's jaw. "...I'd actually feel it."

Naomi swiftly dodges another incoming blow from Bekka, but her vision is still slightly blurred, which makes her fall victim to a right hook almost immediately afterward at a blinding speed.

"I would say, 'beginner's luck,' but where's luck ever going to be with you against me?" Bekka grins and clenches her midsection down.

As she holds the pose, Naomi's eyes bulge out as she watches the larger opponent's abdomen spring forward, visibly larger and harder than they were before. It appears as though Bekka is unstoppable if she is someone who's able to will her muscles harder and larger.

"Tell you what," the hulking trooper says in between feeling the veins in her pelvis slither up her stomach underneath her armour. "I'll give you a freebie. Right here." She clenches down again, and like before, her abs appear thicker, larger.

Taking the opportunity, Naomi clenches her fist and punches Bekka clean in the stomach with all her physical might. But even that wasn't enough! The result of the blow has a disastrous effect on Naomi. With a crunch-like sound ringing through the hall, the bones in Naomi's hands break.

"AAHHH!" she cries, falling onto her knees, clutching her broken hand.

"And you were stupid enough to try." Bekka punches Naomi again, this time with such force she falls flat on her back, cracking the floor underneath her.

Leia watches the display unfold before her as Bekka edges in closer to Naomi. Using the Force, she propels Lana backwards a few feet, her jetpack creating a haywire path of smoke.

Again, Leia uses the Force, this time in an effort to knock Bekka back a few feet to reach Naomi in time. But the massive trooper doesn't move an inch and feigns a yawn in response to the Jedi's feeble attempt at being a saviour. What the action does do though, is make Bekka's muscles twitch.

Charging forwards, Leia swings her lightsaber at the brute who is Bekka, anger overcoming her. But the motion is futile. Bekka literally grips the blade of the lightsaber in her hand and pulls the Jedi weapon free from Leia.

"You dare use a Jedi weapon on me?" the towering mass of twitch she-male questions.

Leia then watches as Bekka does the impossible; she literally bends the blade of the lightsaber into a U shape and tosses it aside.

Frozen with shock, Leia fails to see the incoming punch from Bekka that knocks her out cold.

Happy her smaller opponent is defeated; Bekka presses her foot under Naomi's neck, crushing her windpipe. "I told you this was going to be a one-sided beating. I mean, we've been at this for barely a minute and I've already got you down on your back."

Lana comes up to Bekka's side. "We done here? I want my money."

"Oh, you'll get your money," Bekka says, removing her foot from Naomi's throat. "But I'd say the Goddess would give you more than Talath ever could."

"I'm listening."

-

Back on Slave 1, Lana crosses through the passageway holding the bronze-hilted lightsaber Leia showed to Naomi, and the Jedi's own.

"I found these on Solo's belt." She hands them over to Bekka, who's at the ship's controls. "Two lightsabers."

"Two? The Jedi must really rely on spares." Bekka takes hold of the bronze-hilted lightsaber and grins. "I'd imagine the Goddess would like these as souvenirs."

But then a cold shivers runs down Bekka's spine, causing her to shiver.

"Are you alright?" Lana asks.

"Yeah." Bekka looks at the weapon again. "It's just... something feels off."