Michael woke to the sound of his own breathing.Air was dragged into his lungs and forced back out again, rapid and harsh, like a V12 engine struggling to keep running.
He pushed himself up from his slumped position in the sand. It happened too fast. The grains scattered instantly as his body rose at a speed he had not intended, forcing him to flail slightly to keep his balance.
He froze.
Something was wrong.
He looked down.
His hands were gone.
In their place were smooth, rounded shapes, thick and heavy at the ends of his arms. His legs were far longer than they should have been, bent at sharp angles that made standing feel unnatural. His feet were not feet at all, but curved blades pressed lightly into the sand.
"What…?" Michael whispered.
His voice sounded strange to his own ears.
He tried to step back.
The world vanished in a blur of colour and motion.
A violent force slammed him sideways. His body smashed into a rock wall hard enough to rattle his skull. Pain flared as he hit the ground and rolled, limbs flailing as the desert spun around him.
He groaned and tried to push himself up again.
The moment he moved,
BANG.
Another wall. Another impact.
Michael slid down onto the sand and stayed there, stunned, chest heaving. Every small movement sent him jerking forward or sliding across the ground. His body reacted before his thoughts could catch up.
"I'm stuck," he muttered. "I'm stuck like this."
[Alien Form Active: XLR8][Control Proficiency: 3%][Forced Transformation: Time Remaining – 48 Hours]
Michael stared at the system text, his breathing slowly evening out.
"That explains it," he said quietly.
He forced himself to remain still. Completely still. Even breathing felt dangerous, like it might trigger another uncontrolled movement. Slowly, carefully, he shifted his weight, testing how little motion it took to send him flying.
Minutes passed. Then more.
His muscles began to adapt. The strange posture felt less alien. He learned how to stand without launching himself across the desert. When he finally took a step forward, it was controlled, but only just.
The crashed ship he remembered was gone. From the way the dunes stretched ahead of him, he was clearly somewhere else entirely.
"So I moved without realising," he said. "Good to know."
He took another step.
Then another.
And then, without meaning to, he ran.
The desert exploded into motion.
Sand kicked up behind him as the ground blurred beneath his feet. The wind tore past his face, forcing his eyes to narrow. His body moved faster than his thoughts, instincts taking over as he tried to stay upright.
He attempted to stop and failed, skidding across a dune before bouncing once and rolling, only just managing to regain control.
He laughed, breathless and sharp.
"This is insane."
He ran again, this time with purpose. He tested turns, sudden stops, and jumps. The desert shrank around him. Distance lost meaning. What should have taken hours passed in seconds.
That was when he saw it.
A settlement lay ahead, lights beginning to glow as night crept in. Low buildings clustered together, worn and uneven. And beyond it,
A palace.
It rose above the town like a scar carved into the stone. Its walls pressed inward, thick and heavy, built to intimidate rather than impress. Michael felt a faint pressure in his chest just looking at it.
"Someone important lives there," he said.
Curiosity won.
As he ran again, heading towards the palace.
The world warped again.
The desert vanished.
Michael stumbled forward and crashed onto a smooth, polished floor, skidding until he came to a stop. The air was cooler here, filled with unfamiliar scents. Faint music echoed through the walls, slow and steady.
He pushed himself up and looked around.
A bedroom.
Large and lavish. Pillows lay scattered across raised platforms, rich fabrics draped along the walls. This was not some random chamber. This was private.
"How did I end up here?" he began.
A sound interrupted him.
Something shifted behind him.
Michael turned.
The massive shape filled his vision, stretching across the room like a living wall. Its body was thick and coiled, skin slick beneath the dim lighting. Red, lizard-like eyes locked onto him, unblinking.
Michael froze.
"That's not good," he said.
The creature spoke, its voice deep and slow, vibrating through the chamber.
"You move fast, little thing."
Michael swallowed.
"You're Jabba," he said, disbelief creeping into his voice.
The creature's mouth curved slightly. "Many know my name. Few enter my palace uninvited."
Michael straightened as much as his alien body allowed.
"Yeah," he said. "About that. This wasn't planned."
Jabba watched him closely, eyes narrowing with interest rather than anger.
"Fast," Jabba said. "Strange."
Michael felt the weight of the room settle around him.
"You look like the snacks my servants bring me," Jabba croaked.
Michael gulped. He was standing before one of the most powerful gangsters in the galaxy, a figure with enough influence to ruin entire worlds.
Silence stretched between them.
Then the door opened.
A Twi'lek hurried in, her eyes locking onto Michael as she reached for the alarm.
Michael moved.
His legs carried him forward in an instant. He appeared in front of her, pinning her to the ground before striking her with one rounded hand. She collapsed unconscious before she could cry out.
"Wow," Jabba said.
Even he had barely seen Michael move.
Michael stood over the Twi'lek and turned back to Jabba. The massive slug studied him carefully, eyes tracing every detail of his form.
"Lord Jabba," Michael said, the words leaving his mouth before he fully thought them through. "I need a job."
Jabba considered him. How the creature had entered his palace, bypassed security, and defeated a guard so easily. Those thoughts came and went. What remained was opportunity.
"I may have work for you," Jabba said slowly. "But how can I trust you? I do not know your name, nor your species."
Michael nodded once.
"You can trust me," he replied. "I already proved I can reach places others can't."
The doors opened again.
Another Twi'lek entered and froze. Bib Fortuna stared at the scene in silence.
Jabba smiled as a nearby droid translated his words.
"The issue with the Pyke Syndicate will be solved by this bounty hunter."
Michael turned slightly, only now noticing the droids lining the chamber walls. Mounted blasters tracked his every movement.
He looked back at Jabba.
The grin he received made his skin crawl.