Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"Hé helló, szia Karen, szóval kéne egy könyvet írnod arról, hogy a Klón katonák igazából miért is jó fiúk, mert hát tudod izé ezek kinyírták a Jediket meg minden, szóval meg kellene valahogy magyarázni, hogy igazából miért nyírták ki Jediket de közben azért legyenek jó arcok is, mielőtt még ránk rohad ez a sok klón akciófigura a sufniban, Gyuri voltam köszcsiiiiiiiiii puszcsiiiiii" — George Lucas, forrás: ott voltam és hallottam.
that translation is accurate except for that last part. pflegestufe doesnt really translate to a state of need, its moreso means that the weed would leave you disabled in a way that makes you legally eligible for care or assistance
"is there anyplace in 2024 where one can still buy normal grass, or is there only shinzo abe pack chernobyl 1000 degree hot-knife whoreson nirvana haze that leaves you eligible for state care"
"tudsz még valahol normális füvet venni 2024-ben, vagy csak a shinzo abe csomag csernobil 1000 fokos kés kurvaanyád nirvana köd van ami után jogosulttá vállsz emelt családi pótlékra"
Warnings: Anger, fear, workplace fallout, internal investigations, suspicion, mandatory leave, poor treatment from superiors, and privacy violations
Previous | Next | Masterlist
---
Part Eleven
The comlink rang and you let it. The only answer you gave was a glare.
The time since the apparent break-in at Senator Julgum's office had been absolute hell. Members of the Coruscant Guard had launched an investigation, led by a captain who had introduced himself as Maze.
You hadn't been important enough to know any details, but it was clear that the trooper who came to drop off the package for Julgum hadn't been who he claimed to be. You had overheard that the real Coruscant Guardsman named Chase had been across the city on the day of the visit. Whoever had come to the office, they had been lying about their identity.
That would have been bad at any other time. An unknown person having access to the Senate building? Not good. But in a galaxy at war? The break-in was devastating.
You hadn't been ignorant of the situation. As soon as you had translated that note, you had known that there something was wrong. The words on the flimsi could only be referencing your mysterious comm caller.
In retrospect, that was information you should have volunteered to Captain Maze. You had known it at the time, but you had lost all inclination to be helpful when Julgum had started shouting over his holoprojector. Apparently, the visit was considered a security breach, and according to the senator, it was your fault that the mysterious person had gotten access to the waiting area.
And when security cam footage had shown that he had sliced into the senator's office? Well, you certainly hadn't expected to have a job when you came back from a week's mandatory leave. It was been paid leave, thankfully, or the"trauma recovery" it had been billed as would be more traumatic than the actual trauma.
Even now that you had returned to the office, you were officially on probation. It probably wouldn’t end with you losing your job, especially since Julgum was so unpopular that finding a replacement would be tricky, but it still wasn’t fun. The whole experience had demonstrated exactly how bad this job actually was. At this point, you had started looking around for lawyers who could help you get out of your contract.
The comlink chimed again and you pressed the button to mute it.
Even if you wanted to stay at this job, it would be difficult. You hadn’t told anyone about your previous encounters with the intruder, and you had hidden the note before alerting the Senatorial security to the breach. In the frantic spiral of fear, you hadn’t wanted to be blamed for the attack.
And now that you had deliberately refused to give any of that information, a sudden revelation would be as good as guilt in the eyes of the investigators.
You needed to leave before anyone could put together the pieces. The call logs from Julgum’s office were recorded, but the comm frequencies were scrambled to protect caller anonymity. That was why you could never recognize the mystery caller before you answered. The only way you would get caught was if someone heard you speaking with the intruder.
Or if they watched the security holos long enough to watch you tuck away the piece of flimsi in a drawer before you called. But the night of the break-in, you had painstakingly cut another flimsi to the same size and did your best imitation of the intruder’s writing. The address you listed was a nonsensical one, leading to an eightieth-level restaurant locally know for the excellence of its kebabs.
No one had asked about the flimsi yet, so you had to guess that no one had watched enough of the security holo to see it. Or you truly weren't under suspicion and they were more worried about what the intruder had done before and after leaving Julgum's office. Honestly, Julgum seemed to be the only party interested in blaming you. The Senate employment departments had subtly let you know that your week of leave had only been pushed through because Julgum insisted on it.
Maybe you didn't have to leave, but you certainly wanted to. You had only been back for a few days and Julgum's attitude had already been markedly worse. He had never been pleasant, but so far, he had taken his own low bar and started to dig. You had started a list of the insults somewhere around your second morning back, just for sheer amusement, but it had quickly grown into something you hoped to use to get out of your contract.
A comlink ringing made you frown ferociously at the receiver on your desk. You had muted it, why was it still ringing?
But it wasn't. Well, it was - there was a blinking light that told you that it was - but the noise wasn't coming from the receiver. Instead, it was coming from the personal comlink on your wrist.
Cold fear seized your stomach. Had you ignored calls only to ignore someone calling for you specifically? Was there some kind of emergency? Was someone you loved in trouble?
"Hello?"
"Don't hang up."
Your eyes narrowed, thumb moving reflexively to the button that would end the call. "How did you get this frequency?"
"You introduced yourself to me," your caller reminded you, unnecessarily. "Wasn't hard to track you down."
A dozen curses and threats danced behind your clenched teeth. You weren't holding them back from some misplaced sense of propriety, but because you refused to let him know how badly he had pissed you off.
"Why."
The pause told you that something of your temper had come through - maybe the single-word answer or maybe the flatness of its delivery. Either way, the stranger's answer came slowly.
"I was worried."
"Not a reason to stalk someone."
"No?" he challenged. "You haven't been at Julgum's office. There was someone else answering his comms for a week. No one has answered them at all in days. I was starting to think something had happened to you."
"Something did happen to me," you all but snarled. "Someone snuck into the Senate under false pretenses and broke into Julgum's office. I'm the only one they spoke to and I didn't catch that something was wrong. So all the blame lands on me."
It was a touch dramatic, but you were frustrated beyond belief. This stranger had no way of knowing that his stunt hadn't destroyed your entire career, nor did he especially seem to care.
"There is no blame." The logical air of his voice scraped against every nerve you had. "You never saw me, but it isn't protocol to make clones remove their helmets inside a building. You told me that the Senate scrambles comm frequencies, so you had no information to give them about me. I'm very good at covering my tracks."
An edge of satisfaction crept into his voice toward the end as you stared in disbelief at the comlink. Your mouth opened and closed a few times without input from your brain before you ended the transmission and blocked the frequency.
You felt better immediately, but you still spent the rest of your shift aggressively reorganizing your desk and refusing to answer a single comm.
---
Author's Note - I'm sorry again, guys! I'm not sure why I have such a hard time remembering this fic exists! If it's any real excuse, I've been doing some heavy rewrites on the next two chapters and I think that's why I forgot to post last month. I'm usually not this much of a mess!
Now, I need some honest opinions about story structure: do the shorter chapters drive you crazy? Normally, I aim for 5,000 words per chapter (easily 4x what these average), but all of their little conversations seem to wrap up in roughly a thousand words, so that's how I've been dividing the chapters. Still, I want to make sure you guys don't think they're a waste of time since they're so short, especially with at least a month's wait between each one.
Thank you for reading, thank you for your patience, and I'll see you soon with another chapter!
I love the story and honestly I would love them to be longer but if you see this better for you and the direction you want it to go then its perfect. I cant way for the next chapter!!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
SO in hungary when you graduate secondary school you have to do an exam in multiple subjects that has a written and an oral part. in the oral part you pull a random author/work out of i think 30. It's on you/your classmates/someone you find online to write notes on those 30 topics before the exam.
One of the topics for this kid's class is "30 year of sunlight" by Grecsó Krisztián. And so what they did was write him a message saying:
"Hello dear Krisztián! Why is 30 years of sunlight so long? I don't get it. What is it about? Why? Why do we have to present about it on the érettségi? If I pull you tomorrow i'll be smoked. Shame on you. At least exlpain please what is it about? A little summary and analysis? Help or i'll write a diss track* about you. We'll have a huge literary beef** I politely ask you to help because if i pull you tomorrow everything will end. I thank you for your answer it advance. If you don't answer than no." [flower emojis]
A trianoni békediktátum volt az az egyezmény, amit a Habsburgok az Oszmán birodalommal kötöttek, hogy elcsatolják tőlünk a tatárokat, mert 56-ban elvesztettük a mohácsi csatát.
I just finished SWTOR Knight of the Eternal Empire and I loved it. There were scenes which I wasnt fond of SPOILERS!!!
(the last fight where we cleansed Vaylin from Valkorions power with the Holocron seemed a bit out of left air but I HC it as the cleansing power my character learned in the consular class story) but over all it was amazing.
I like to spoil myself a bit so I can follow my characters personality to the best of my ability, so I looked it up what will happen in the next few expansions so bit of spoilers
The thing that bothers me is that we need to realign ourselfs with one of the factions (which is understandable from a gameplay point) but both options seem… wrong.
The Republic is corrupt as hell and did nothing to help us during the Alliance (Saresh can fuck off, she should have stayed on Tariss) but I hope there is a chance for us to clean it up. (Please spoil it for me, is there a chance?)
And the Empire is like…. They helped us, but still. I don’t think that my consular character would align with them.
Honestly I dont want either side, so maybe as im playing i’ll rewrite the whole thing for myself XDD.
But really, i wish they gave us the choice to stay as a third faction. I always love it in a story where some of two enemy factions come together to defeat a common enemy.
Tho it is realistic that they will jump at each others throats again.
(As you can see I love the character I play with, maybe because how I made her is perfect for the voice actress, and I don’t want to deviate from the Jedi I made her to be.)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
One of the quiet background realities of the Star Wars galaxy is that it is spectacularly bad at labor. Not just “late-stage capitalism” bad, but structurally, culturally, and institutionally allergic to the idea that workers should have enforceable protections. You’ve got child soldiers, child labor, debt slavery, corporate fiefdoms, and a Republic that can field a galaxy-spanning bureaucracy but somehow never gets around to standardizing “maybe don’t enslave people.” The Empire of course doesn’t fix this; it industrializes it.
So in that environment, formal labor law is either nonexistent, unenforced, or actively hostile. Which means if you’re operating in a sector where the state either can’t or won’t protect you, you get a classic historical pattern: workers build their own rules.
Enter the gray economies.
Groups like the Smugglers' Alliance (Legends) and the Bounty Hunters' Guild (new canon) look, at first glance, like professional associations for criminals. But if you squint at them through a labor history lens, they start to look a lot like early, proto-union structures — especially the kinds you see in maritime or extralegal industries on Earth.
Think pirate codes (yes actual ones, Pirates of the Caribbean didn't make that up). Think matelotage agreements. Think dockworker brotherhoods that predate formal unions.
Because what do these groups actually do?
They:
set norms for compensation and contracts
regulate competition to prevent destructive undercutting
provide a framework for dispute resolution
establish reputational systems (“you don’t honor contracts, you don’t get work”)
That’s industry self-governance in the absence of law.
Take bounty hunting. Without something like the Bounty Hunters' Guild, the field collapses into chaos: clients don’t pay; hunters underbid each other into oblivion; jobs get duplicated, interfered with, or sabotaged. And nobody trusts anybody!
The Guild steps in and says: here are the rules of engagement. Here’s how claims work. Here’s how you get paid. Here’s what happens if you break contract.
That’s basically a union crossed with a licensing board and a regulatory agency, just without any moral pretense.
Same with the Smugglers' Alliance. Smuggling is inherently risky, decentralized, and dependent on trust networks. If everyone is constantly betraying everyone else, the whole system stops functioning. So instead, you hash out agreed-upon routes and territories, informal protections against betrayal, mechanisms for information sharing, and consequences for breaking the code
Again: not altruism. Stability.
And the reason this emerges specifically in gray/illegal sectors is because they have to. The Core Worlds might pretend they have laws, but those laws don’t meaningfully protect the people actually doing dangerous, itinerant, high-risk work. So the margins of the galaxy — where enforcement is weakest and risk is highest — become the places where labor organization evolves first.
Which is very historically grounded.
On Earth, some of the earliest labor protections didn’t come from governments; they came from workers in dangerous, decentralized industries—sailors, pirates, miners—who literally wrote their own rules because no one else was going to save them.
Pirate codes, for example, often included:
compensation for injury
shared distribution of loot
limits on captain authority
Which is … shockingly progressive compared to a lot of contemporary working conditions (cough Amazon cough).
So in the galaxy far, far away, you end up with this ironic inversion:
The “legitimate” systems — Republic, Empire, megacorporations — are exploitative, inconsistent, or indifferent.
The “illegitimate” systems — smugglers, bounty hunters — are the ones building functional labor frameworks, because they need to survive.
And that feeds back into why the galaxy feels so unstable overall. There’s no universal baseline of rights. Everything is hyper-local, network-dependent, and contingent on whether you’re inside a system that has rules you can rely on.
If you’re a clone trooper? You are literally property.
If you’re a factory worker on a corporate world? Your protections are whatever your employer feels like offering.
But if you’re a smuggler or a bounty hunter?
You might actually have clearer expectations about your pay, your risks, and your recourse — because your “union” is the only thing standing between you and total chaos.
So yeah: the Smugglers’ Alliance and the Bounty Hunters’ Guild aren’t just flavor. They’re a glimpse of what labor organization looks like in a galaxy where the state has fundamentally failed to provide it.
I was gonna make a joke post about how the new PM of hungary is fist fighting every Interviewer and other important political public figures on live hungarian television/radio but I have no idea how much coverage the whole thing is getting from non-hungarian sources and I fear some might think I am being serious cus these are some of the reactions (to said interview):
The core conceit of Lord of the Rings is pretty funny. You are a twenty three year old in a suburb of Maine. The little bracelet in your grandpa’s attic has an inscription on it that is the password to the world’s entire nuclear arsenal. It is up to you to walk to the only hydraulic press in the world, located in Arizona, before the FBI finds the bracelet, kills you, and enslaves the suburb of Maine you currently live in
Also the 90-year old hobo that your grandpa beat in a rap battle for possession of the bracelet while hiding from the Romanian secret police really loved the bracelet because it was coated in small amounts of LSD and tried to hunt and kill your grandpa to get it back. He was then apprehended by the FBI and instantly gave them your grandpa’s address. Seal Team Six is about to break down your door and shoot you, says your local congressman who can also do cool magic tricks
There's a guy in NY who MIGHT be capable of destroying the codes but won't coz he simply wants to spend time with his wife. So it's up to your grandpa's old friend in rural Ohio to get you the friends capable of finishing the task.
The aircraft are all under the command of the Australian government, which has declared that the nuclear arsenals are not their problem and that no aircraft will help anyone out with that problem. Your grandfather did fly with the bracelet one time, but he only got away with that because no one involved knew what the bracelet was and it would have been a huge deal if anyone had realized what was up. If you charter a flight towards the world's only hydraulic press, the Australians will know and throw lightning at the plane.
You can't fly to Arizona because the FBI has a massive radar installation located right next to the hydraulic press, and part way through the story Seal Team Six gets upgraded to also being fighter pilots.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"can't believe Hungary is celebrating a centrist-conservative" low-key choke on your tongue, you have no idea about what the status of the left here is (non fucking existent for complicated reasons) so yes, we will take one fucking step back towards the center after a far-right asshole, thanks!!!!!!!
amandla
