fandomhigh | Ethics [Thursday, October 1, 1st period]

When the Ethics class arrived in the Danger Shop, they stepped into an entirely different world.

An incredibly dry, hot one. That smelled really bad.

Anakin waved his hand around the room. "Welcome to the embodiment of gluttony," he said, "the palace of a Hutt."

He concentrated on the controls on the far side of the room, and the simulation sprung to life: dozens of beings drinking, eating, and dancing, with all activity centered around a vile slug of a beast laying on the raised dais at the front of the room.

In a place of honor on the wall was a man, face twisted in a silent scream but his features obscured beyond recognition, encased in silver. Anakin ignored it as he walked past to point at the creature on the dais. "That," he said, nose wrinkling in disgust, "is a Hutt. This particular version was named Jabba, one of the most powerful crime lords in the galaxy." A grim smile turned the corners of his mouth up. "At least until he met my children."

He shook his head. "That is neither here nor there. Today is an interactive experience for you, class. Take a good hard look around. See the effects that gluttony can have."

His eyes went flat. "Touch any of the dancing girls and you'll regret it. That's a promise."

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Jabba laughed deep in his chest, then grunted something to the golden protocol droid standing next to him.

"The mighty Jabba bids you welcome," the droid translated, "and hopes that your stay will be of some duration."

"I will not remain one moment longer than I must," Raven said. And she hoped the smell created by the Danger Shop wouldn't linger in her clothing, because ewww.

"Oh, no one leaves until the great and powerful Jabba says they may," the droid informed her.

"And just what will it require to obtain that permission?" Raven asked the droid.

Jabba laughed creepily, then made a comment.

"Can you dance?" the droid translated.

Whether she could or couldn't (she couldn't -- well, she had never tried) wasn't relevant. "No," she said. "I do not dance." ~~The metal bikini would chafe anyway.~~

"Then you will die," the droid quavered as the trap door opened up to a fortunately rancorless pit.

Raven hit the ground hard and was stunned for a few moments. Then she picked herself up, dusted herself off, and teleported back up with her best "bitch please" look on her face.

Nobody likes a show off, Raven.

Jabba looked almost taken aback ~~but it was hard to tell. It was before computer generated puppetry~~ before snapping orders.

Four Gamorreans pulled blasters on her.

"I do not wish to fight," Raven said calmly. "I merely wish to leave." She also wanted to leave with the poor man on the wall and see if there was any way to free him, but she wasn't sure how she could do that unless she tried to teleport away with him.

"No one leaves until the mighty Jabba is finished with them," the droid translated. "And he feels that you would make an excellent meal for the Sarlaac."

She wasn't sure what a Sarlaac was, but whatever it was, she didn't want to be eaten. And since this was a computer generated illusion, she couldn't use her empathic abilities; however, that also meant she would not truly be hurt or imprisoned, so she need not merely teleport away. The lesson was gluttony, so she tried to use that to her advantage.

"If you allow me to leave," she said, "I will return with a delicacy the likes of which you have never tasted."

Ethics [Thursday, October 1, 1st period]

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!

Re: Talk to Jabba!