This original Star Wars fan-story is part of a larger unfinished fan-project set in the Clone Wars, starring a squad of delinquent clones led by a disgraced Jedi general: Jailbird Squad. Also featuring a pop idol and her nefarious corporate senator husband!
I have simplified the floorplan of 79’s considerably for ease of both writing and reading. Think of it like a big rectangle. Ignore all previous canon iterations of 79’s. They renovated.
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Original art and writing, shared posts, and occasional erotica. No kids!
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WC: 4.6k. 7.4k with sex scene.
CW: Contains implications of past sexual assault. Also contains abusive & toxic relationships, infidelity, revenge cheating, alcohol & intoxication, and canon-typical violence. And Elon Musk allegories—I'd feel a little bad making that a jumpscare.
Sex scene CW: Public sex, intoxication, established relationship. Specific tags under the toggle.
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The only reason Seela bothered to show up at 79’s at all was, ironically, Senator Tusk. Prior to receiving Knower’s encrypted comm, she had spent the entire day in bed, choking out sobs against her will. Tusk had cheated on her. Seela had no idea why she cared—she did the same to him like it was a game. And the more of Tusk's money she spent, the better it felt. So the mascara stains on her six thousand credit dry-clean-only collectible wampa-lula couldn’t possibly be grief. Seela supposed it was closer to rage.
She hadn’t bothered replying to Knower's message. She knew he would be here with or without an RSVP. Instead, she sent a private comm to Tusk to tell him where they'd be spending the evening. Her trap was set.
She wore the dress: the little-black-dress to end all little-black-dresses, the one she’d worn the night she met Knower.
Thunderous music filled the room and colorful lights flashed across the dancefloor and over Seela’s table. The bar to the left was full, and a crowd had formed on the floor between her table and the VIP booths that lined the opposite end of the room. The exit door to the alley in the far corner looked more and more appealing as the minutes dragged on. Seela rocked back in her chair at the table next to Tusk and a potential investor, and leaned forward to grab her drink. The tight black sleeve of her dress spiraled down her arm to mirror the gesture.
Seela's dress had a silhouette that moved up and down her limbs and pulsed to the beat, thanks to its biodroid hems. The surface was an oily black that reflected glittering rainbows as the strobe lights passed over her. The biodroid technology had been created by one of Tusk's pet-project companies. He took credit for its invention, but he had no part in it whatsoever—other than funding. The corner of Seela's mouth curled at the thought, somewhere between a wry smile and a grimace.
"At least I had the decency to hide my indiscretions," Seela grumbled into her drink, rage bubbling to the surface again. The memory of Tusk shoving his hooved thumb into that Twi'lek's mouth, standing there in the boardroom of the very company that produced her outfit, made Seela's skin prickle and her brow furrow. She counted the bubbles rising through the champagne flute. One, two, three... At the table to her right, she heard Tusk flapping his toothy snout at some stimmed-out potential investor. Seela gritted her teeth. Four, five, six...
Seela was desperate to see Tusk's face when he saw her, in "his" invention, melting in Knower's strong, capable arms. She knew Tusk would recognize Knower from the first time he caught them together. His curly blonde hair was... Unmistakable for a clone, that's for sure. Seela thought it was very modern. And despite his initial boasts of a progressive techno-utopia, Seela had found Tusk's promises about the future to be hollow. She tilted her glass skyward, swallowed, and sighed. She leaned back in her chair and idly observed the crowd of dancers.
A group of five clones and a human Jedi approached the VIP booths at back of the club. General Jare pulled a card off the center booth. They read it, and declared over the music “This one’s ours!” They slid back into the center of the big U-shaped booth, and bounced up and down on the seat. Their black and white bangs swayed with them. “How are we getting wasted tonight, Burner?” they asked with an eager grin.