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TATOOINE
A SARLACC
"—so look, it's not important how we got here! Or who was flying!"
The setting: a giant Hutt caravel, every kind of skulking and skullduggery in full swing.
Outside the windows, the stomach of an unprecedentedly gigantic sarlacc.
On the floor, and dripping from the...
The worst part wasn't the air so bad it left him lightheaded, or the guts' tendrilled and iron-hard grip on him, or the stomach acid biting his skin, or the psychic murmurs of all the people the Sarlacc had absorbed over the centuries. The worst part was probably the sound, just this persistent...