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A Photo Essay in Intergalactic Geographic Magazine
In loving memory of Reginald Hawthorne III
Our intrepid correspondent, Reginald Hawthorne III, ventures forth into the untamed wilds of Jakku, that jewel of the Outer Rim. Though fraught with peril for the unprepared explorer, Jakku's infamous bazaars offer unparalleled opportunities to observe the curious customs of less civilized species.
Hawthorne writes: "I found myself in the company of a band of Jawas, those diminutive scavengers whose industry and acumen never cease to astonish. Though their language remains indecipherable to outsiders, I have cultivated a rudimentary ability to communicate through gestures. They graciously allowed me to accompany their sandcrawler as they plied their trade across the harsh Jakkan wastes.
"As we crested a great dune, we espied a most peculiar sight - a human female astride a rusted speeder bike, quite clearly stranded from lack of fuel. The Jawas' glowing eyes lit up with mercantile fervor. Before I could intervene, they had swarmed the hapless woman's vehicle and proceeded to strip it of parts.
"'I say, good fellows!' I called out. 'Surely we must render assistance to this poor soul!' But my protestations fell on deaf ears beneath their heavy hoods. With remarkable efficiency, they stripped her of her clothing and affixed a sturdy metal collar round her slender neck, attached to a length of chain.
I must confess, dear reader, that I was momentarily taken aback by the alacrity with which these industrious creatures subdued their new quarry. And yet, is it not the way of nature that the cunning should prosper while the unprepared fall prey? Indeed, one might argue that the Jawas provide a valuable service, rescuing stranded travelers from certain doom in the unforgiving desert.
The woman's cries of distress were quickly muffled as she was ushered into the sandcrawler's murky hold. I found myself quite fascinated by the ingenious locking mechanism on her collar - truly, Jawa engineering is not to be underestimated! As we resumed our journey towards the fabled Souk of Souls, I pondered the strange tidings that awaited us in that den of iniquity and wonder.
As dawn broke over the horizon, casting an eerie crimson glow across the dunes, our sandcrawler lumbered to a halt on the outskirts of the fabled Souk of Souls. The Jawas, ever industrious, began unloading their wares with clockwork efficiency. I observed with keen interest as they arranged their diverse inventory - a veritable menagerie of sentient merchandise and droids.
Among the assembly of unfortunate souls, I couldn't help but notice the human female from yesterday's encounter. She was lined up along with the other wares, between a droid and a twi'lek. As I began to record her I noted that she seemed quite distraught.
A holorecording (with audio) I took of the poor desperate girl before they stripped her...
The Jawas had at least given her some primitive clothing, but soon they came to strip her naked once again.
Now in the harsh light of day, I was able to make a more thorough study of her physical characteristics. For the benefit of our esteemed readers, I shall endeavor to provide a clinical description:
The specimen appeared to be a young adult female of the human species, approximately 1.7 meters in height. Her frame was lithe yet muscular, suggesting a life of physical exertion. Most notable was her epidermis, which had been denuded of all artificial coverings save her arm wraps, allowing for unobstructed observation of her comely attributes.
Her mammary glands were well-developed, though not excessively so, and appeared to be in peak condition for lactation should the need arise. The Jawas also appeared to have shaved her genital region, no doubt to assist with a more speedy sale.
As I dutifully recorded these observations with my holorecorder, the female locked eyes with me. Her gaze was pleading, desperate. She called out, her voice hoarse: "Please, you have to help me! You're not one of them - you can stop this!"
I cleared my throat awkwardly, unsure how to respond to such an unseemly outburst. "My dear," I began, "I'm afraid I'm merely an observer here. It would be most improper for me to interfere with local customs and commerce."
The woman's face contorted in anguish and disbelief. I found myself rather uncomfortable with her emotional display and busied myself with adjusting the focus on my holorecorder.
Just then, a pair of Jawas approached, grasping the chain attached to the woman's collar. With gentle yet firm tugs, they began leading her towards the bustling marketplace. I couldn't help but marvel at the intricate craftsmanship of her restraints - the Jawas truly are masters of metallurgy!
I continued to record as we made the trek across the hot sands towards the marketplace of misery. The woman stumbled along behind a Jawa, pulled by the chain attached to her neck shackle. Betraying a certain uncouthness quite unbecoming of a lady, she shot me a series of foul looks, which, being so undeserved, I did my best to ignore.
As our group made its way into the heart of the Souk, I steeled myself for the wonders and horrors that surely awaited us in this den of exotic trade. The sights, sounds, and smells that assaulted my senses were almost overwhelming. Truly, dear reader, I was about to embark on a most extraordinary adventure in the name of scientific inquiry!
Here I share with you some of the first photographs I captured as she was put on display for potential buyers.
Shortly after arriving, the woman steeled herself for the shame and humiliation that was to come.
Here she is on display for hundreds of passers-by and potential customers.
A local man stops to leer at her nakedness, while she turns away in shame.
Stay tuned for the second part of my exciting photo essay and outer rim adventure, as we see the girl probed, inspected, and most objectionably used and abused.
I'll be there to record it all, purely for the sake of scientific and anthropological inquiry of course!
TO BE CONTINUED...
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