So May the 4th is quite timely this time of year, innit?

A commission for anonymous, co-written with the ever-lovely  Nesciens, a sequel to Boot Camp featuring our favorite Scout Trooper duo getting into more shenanigans with The Mandalorian, still unaware but vore-related this time!~

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Baneful Broth

“You know, in retrospect, this was a really bad idea.” LS-946 admitted with a small sigh.

“You reckon, rookie?” LS-322 responded with an eye-roll, clearly telegraphed by the motion of his helmeted head.

The two looked at one another, hanging onto the sleeve of the Mandalorian, who had unknowingly kidnapped the two ant-sized scout troopers from their post – all the way at the base which now most certainly lay in ruin.

“I mean, climbing a dangerous, gigantic bounty hunter, who is set to meet up with his mysterious ‘contact’ within the day…” The older trooper continued, exasperatedly gesturing with one hand, while the other held on firmly to the soft fabric just above Mando’s elbow. “what could possibly go wrong?”

“Look, we need to get his attention at some point. Unless you fancy spending the rest of your life avoiding his footfalls.”

“I’m not you, rookie.”

“Oh shut it, you know we had to do something! Yeah, I may have misjudged the time it would take us to climb all the way up his body; but if you really thought it was such a terrible idea, why’d you go along with it?”

LS-322 sighed and shook his head. “Well, I couldn’t very well leave my little protégé by himself, now could I?” Despite the clearly evident frustration, there was a slight warmth to his tone. “But yeah, okay, point taken.” He nodded and looked around.

They were in an alien world once more – one that should have been more familiar – but seemed, in contrast, far more foreign than anything they’d seen on Abelard II. Enormous figures, dozens of them – humans, twi’leks, rodians, bothans, mon calamari, even a few trandoshans – were all around them as their Mandalorian ‘host’ walked the streets of some New Republic city on his way to a shady canteen. The enormous figures – blurred and obscured by the distance – still inspired fear in the two puny soldiers, forcing them to cling to the enormous bounty hunter who, arguably, was a much more tangible and immediate threat.

“It’s fine though, right?” LS-946 whimpered, hiding the visor of his helmet in the folds of fabric, trying not to look at the terrifying world of titans around them. “We can just ride it out until he’s done.”

“Yeah, I guess.” LS-322 shrugged. “Unless he feels an itch around this spot or something.”

“Not helping, 322!”

Another shrug. “Just being realistic about our chances.”

It was LS-946’s turn to roll his eyes this time. “Oh please, if we’re going with ‘realistic’, the big guy would have smeared us into the dirt or at least left us stranded back on Abelard II.”

“Yup~” LS-322 agreed with a satisfied nod.

“Shit…”

“Hey, cheer up, rookie!” The older scout nudged his companion cautiously with an elbow. “It was your idea that got us a ride off-planet in his boot. Maybe this one’s just like that!”

A deep sigh followed. “Thanks, 322. That does make me feel a bit better.”

The conversation paused for a little while after as the two scouts found themselves carried indoors, into a noisy, busy canteen. Filled with even more titanic strangers, the establishment was permeated by the cacophonous chorus of voices that seemed almost unbearable – the two tinies found it difficult to simply endure, let alone try to talk over it.

LS-946 found himself burying his head deeper into the fold of fabric to muffle the ceaseless, ear-splitting torture, while LS-322 simply winced. But luck, it seemed, was on their side, as the giant Mandalorian stopped, throwing a glance around the place, quickly locating the farthest, loneliest corner, and immediately heading towards it, while the unbearable voices soon began to fade.

The scouts’ relief was short-lived however. Mando stood beside the table for a moment, pulling up a chair and then collapsing into it with a sudden, violent motion. It ripped the two micros from the safety of their perch above his elbow and sent them tumbling down onto the table in front of the monstrous bounty hunter.

Once again, the they found themselves in a heap on the ground, groaning as they caressed the minor injuries they sustained. “Shit…” LS-322 hissed through grit teeth.

“Y-you alright, 322?” The younger scout asked, slowly lifting himself up and wincing as he felt one of his knees aching from the fall.

“Y-yeah!” Came the strained, but genuine response. “We should probably g-“

Interrupting him was a sudden, violent earthquake. Out of nowhere, the enormous gloved hand of the Mandalorian descended beside them, each finger slamming into ground, sending a shockwave through the surface.

“What is he-?!” LS-322 shouted.

“I think he’s bored!” LS-946 offered, desperately trying to keep himself stationary.

“Terrific…”

The two managed to get themselves up just in time as the giant’s fingers continued their unrelenting march across the table. Again and again they would strike against the ground, knocking the pair off balance over and over as their tormentor idly perused the crowd, as if looking for someone.

“RUUUUUN!” The rookie exclaimed.

“I KNOW!” The older scout shouted back.

Finding no cause for concern, Mando ceased the tapping, lifting his arm off the table and slipping a little bit lower in his seat as his stomach offered a low, disgruntled grumble.

The pair continued on for a few more paces, making some space between themselves and the hand that had nearly obliterated them “Gods be damned…” LS-322 exhaled, doubling over.

“Y-yeah… This is why we need to get his attention though.” LS-946 responded, straightening his back and looking towards the mountainous vista of the Mandalorian’s resting arm. “We should probably try and get back up.”

“You serious?” LS-322 gasped but stopped himself for a moment, pondering their predicament. “I suppose that does beat being stranded in some godforsaken rebel cafeteria… Alright, rook, lead the way.”

“We should…” LS-946 huffed. “Probably get a bit of rest first though, we’ve been going at it since…”

“Since last night, yeah. And he just had to toss us off…” The older trooper took a seat, and lay himself flat against the table, looking up. “Beats starting from down on the floor again, I suppose. Shab, rookie. I’m glad we’re still alive, but I hope to god we can get back to normal at some point – this is exhausting.”

“Yeah… we ca—”

*Grrrrooooannnn…*

A loud grumble thundered over the two troopers – the giant’s empty stomach complained, causing LS-946 to instinctively back away a few steps.

“You, uhh… want to move a little further back, 322? Just in case?”

“No complaints here, kid.” The older scout shrugged, trying not to let it slip how nervous the noise of a man’s grumbling stomach made him.

Ignorant to the two scouts perturbed by the natural noises of his body, Mando frowned behind his helmet as he considered the growing problem. He didn’t exactly want to eat out in public like this, but his ship was still being looked over by the maintenance crew – heading back there would hardly solve his issue. Pausing to drum his fingers along the table once again, he tilted his head in consideration and then raised his hand up for a waiter – maybe he could…

A rodian dutifully stopped by, causing the bounty hunter to hesitate as his mind fumbled for what little rodese he had picked up over his travels, while supplementing his request by gesturing with his hands to indicate what he wanted.

As LS-322 warily looked on at the giant rodian staring at their ride out of here, the rookie paused at the Mandalorian’s gestures while keeping crouched and ready to run if one of those mimicking hands moved to land on the section of table they were on.

“What’s he saying?”

“Hell if I know, rookie – I don’t speak frog or whatever this is. He’s probably ordering something right? This is a canteen…”

“Yeah, that makes sense… uh isn’t that kind of bad though?” LS-946 asked, prying his gaze away from the two titans to survey the empty table around them. “Like, if he’s ordering food then it’s gonna be put on here.”

“…sheb. Guess we’re moving back onto your Mando sooner than I thought.”

“He’s not my Mando—”

“Well, our Mando if you want to get all technical…”

The two quickly moved into action while continuing their mini-argument. The chance to catch their breath had been welcome though – as they raced along the dull metal making up the table, avoiding food stains, long stuck to the surface, as distance was made towards their destination. With the huge rodian having walked off, the Mandalorian’s arms were thankfully still and rested on the table once more – the giant seemingly distracted with something off in the distance as the two approached the familiar fabric.

“Can we try and get inside his bracers or whatever? I want to try and catch some sleep this time.” LS-322 ignored the snort from the younger trooper. “Without having to y’know, constantly hold on out of fear I’ll get thrown off.”

“Well, if you want to try and climb all the way up there, be my guest…”

“Man, that’s so much effort – I’m not young and fresh like you rookies… I just can’t win, can I?” Ignoring the older man bemoaning how tiring everything was for him, LS-946 rushed ahead to the stationary hand and grunted as he hoisted himself onto the leather, using the rough sections of material as footholds to slowly make his way up. Despite his complaints, LS-322 quickly followed and the two were gradually making their way up the titan’s hand. They were about half-way along the Mandalorian’s wrist when suddenly the familiar sound of footsteps echoed.

A loud *CLINK* sounded as a ceramic bowl was casually half-dropped onto the table along with the rustling sound of cutlery being placed next to it. Immediately, a fresh smell filled the air, which along with the loud noises of that same alien language from before, had the two scouts going still and clinging on tight.

A little bit too preoccupied with the conversation taking place above them, neither of them realized the sudden movement that was about to come. Bringing his hands over the bowl, Mando gestured a ‘thank you’ to the rodian, twisting his hand and sending the two tinies tumbling down.

“Kark!”

“Oh fuc—”

Neither trooper had a chance as the sudden downwards motion left them helpless – they lost their grip. It was a terrifying few seconds of freefall before they splashed down, submerging in a sea of warm liquid. Quickly swimming back up with a gasp, both began desperately treading water to stay afloat. No, this wasn’t water – this was…

“Shit – rookie, we’re in his soup!”

Said rookie didn’t even have a chance to splutter out a response, as above – framed by the walls of the bowl – the godlike figure of Mando casually grabbed hold of an old metal spoon, wordlessly plunging it into the bowl. A rapid centrifugal force slammed into both tinies, sending them spinning out of control. It was an utterly nauseating experience as LS-946 hit a large obstacle – a clump of shredded cabbage, he quickly realized – and clung on for dear life. A desperate look upwards revealed a truly terrifying sight.

That concealed, emotionless helmet staring down at them as it handled a giant spoon – slowly stirring his soup exactly to the Mandalorian’s liking.

Hugging tight to his cabbage, the rookie shook in the hot liquid as he spotted his companion, splayed over a cube of some kind of meat in the distance. Though the veteran wasn’t as lucky as his companion – a direct hit from the spinning spoon knocked him right back down into the broth. For a horrible moment, the older scout didn’t resurface, and through his dizzy, uncoordinated mind LS-946 prepared to dive into the warm depths of the giant’s soup for him. Thankfully, within the few seconds before he could do just that, LS-322 returned, this time holding for dear life onto something that must have once been part of a bay leaf.

A giddy laugh echoed in his mind as the young trooper looked around and briefly recognized the ingredients from a soup he had been practicing back at their once-standing base, mercilessly destroyed by the very man now looking to eat them in said soup. A big wave of soupy broth interrupted his introspection however, as the rookie spluttered and buried his face into the edible raft.

The Mandalorian, ever-ignorant of the significance of his actions, let go of his spoon, allowing it to fall deeper into the bowl with a resonant *CLINK*. He shifted in his seat, turning to face the wall and gingerly reached towards his helmet, gently lifting it up a little to reveal nothing but his mouth.

The pair inside the bowl would have moments to react as, with a twist of his wrist, the giant dipped his spoon into the broth, scooping up the meat cube LS-322 had just been holding onto and bringing it towards his gaping mouth. The two tinies would watch it disappear inside with bated breath, seeing the stranger’s jaws working behind sealed lips.

“Shit, shit, shit!” LS-946 panicked as the older scout pulled himself fully onto the leaf.

“Rookie, I hate to rush you, but if you’ve got any ideas, it’s now or never!”

“Shab! Shit! fuck!” The younger scout scrambled, his head darting around in distress as he remembered his fascination with shrinking movies, remembering the many scenes of characters in a situation exactly like this. “The edges!” He exclaimed, pushing himself away from the cabbage and quickly rushing closer to the circular wall of the bowl with fast, confident strokes. “He’ll probably scoop from the center!”

‘Probably’ didn’t sound particularly reassuring to LS-322, but he didn’t have any better ideas. Without hesitation he pushed himself off the leaf and moved to follow the younger scout only for the spoon to come crashing down once more. It slammed through the water surface, sending a strong wave rushing in every direction only for the broth to promptly move back, filling the newly-formed void.

A small portion of the bowl was rapidly drained into the waiting spoon, covering the exposed metal with what seemed like tons upon tons of fluid and vegetables. The rookie would hear one desperate shout as the form of his companion simply disappeared beneath the mass veggies and leaves.

“322!!!” The rookie exclaimed, watching in absolute horror as the spoon lifted up, carrying LS-322 towards the waiting mouth of the Mandalorian. Tears welled up in his eyes as he scrambled for something, anything he could do only to realize he was powerless to stop this. He wailed in pure anguish as the giant up above slowly, almost lazily chewed the unfortunate trooper up along with his meal. “Shit… SHIT!!!” A small, angry fist slammed through the water as LS-946 realized he was on his own now. This entire time his partner had kept him sane – hopeful even – what was he going to do now?

The question didn’t get to linger in his head for long though, as the spoon came down again, and again, throwing the sea of soup into disarray each and every time. The rookie struggled desperately against the wild current, screaming and calling for help in complete despair when suddenly the spoon fell limp, sliding halfway into the bowl as the entire world seemed to rock violently.

A sense of unparalleled vertigo surged through the little scout as the Mandalorian gently grabbed the bowl from the sides, lifting it up to his mouth and slooowly dipping it towards his mouth to take a sip.

“No… No… NO!” LS-946 struggled desperately but in vain as the mass of liquid weightily shifted to the side – a grain of salt could hardly battle the will of oceanic currents. The titan’s lips parted, a slight inhale washing past the rookie like a gust of frigid air.

Closer and closer the gaping maw approached, as the rookie cried out one last time only to hear a familiar voice calling out to him in response. As If in slow motion, he turned around to see LS-322 perched atop a small piece of bay leaf stuck between the titan’s teeth.

“ROOK!!! HERE!!!” The veteran soldier yelled at the top of his lungs, just barely audible over the sound of the rushing flood.

With barely enough time to react, the rookie would swim away and to the side. As the broth filtered through the Mandalorian’s teeth, by will of fate alone he managed to make it close enough. LS-322’s hand grabbed hold of his with a triumphant shout.

“DON’T LET GO!”

The current washed past them, tugging at the rookie’s form with enough force to rip one of the damaged armor plates off, but his brother-in-arms held firm, grunting with great effort as he strained against the seemingly endless stream of fluid.

And then… it stopped. The flood simply ceased, and the Mandalorian slowly lowered the bowl back down towards the table with a quiet, yet deafening “Ahhh…” A strong, foul scent of digestion emanated from deep within the giant’s body along with the exhale, seeping in through the failing filters on the two troopers’ helmets, making both of them gag.

They had just enough time to glance down once, seeing the bowl down below drained of its broth, with all sorts of solid bits left unaccounted for. With a pleased hum that shook them to their very core, the Mando took hold of the spoon again, dipping it down and scooping up a loose pile of veggies.

There were no words the two scouts could exchange as they hung limp from the shredded bay leaf that, by some miracle, had gotten caught in-between two enormous molars. The display of upper-body strength from LS-322 was honestly impressive considering how lazy the older trooper normally was – LS-946 supposed he had to have passed the early days of PT somehow.

Light entered the world again, and the rookie could only tighten his grip on LS-322’s hand while he nervously watched the soggy masses of stewed vegetables approaching. A cry escaped him as, up above, the teeth their lifeline was stuck to came to life and, without any further warning, began quickly chewing. There was nothing they could do but hold on and pray the bay leaf wouldn’t be swept away, looking on in terror as chunks of food bigger than them were utterly masticated by the hungry Mandalorian’s mouth. It was yet another sobering reminder of just how vulnerable they were and how quickly the very molar they were hoping would save them, could reduce them to nothing but a chewed smear.

“Uh… how are you holding up, 322?” Above, the older trooper looked down and despite the helmet, it was easy to tell he wasn’t exactly amused by the rookie’s attempt at levity.

“Hm – well y’know apart from the whole ‘being one loose grip away from certain death’ – I’m doing pretty good over here!” As if to illustrate his very point, the two watched a mashed-up piece of lettuce disappear fast down the dark, wet tunnel of Mando’s throat with a loud gulp. “I know you wanted to get up close and all to your Mandalorian, but I gotta say, I have bigger plans for my future than ending up as a few calories for some oblivious bounty hunter!”

The young scout’s retort was cut off as a large hunk of soggy carrot was roughly split in twain by a blunt molar and thrown at them by the bouncing tongue. A gasp of surprise escaped LS-322 and for a terrifying moment he struggled to maintain his grip. It was enough to send a few minutes of sobering silence through them as they continued to watch vehicle-sized hunks of edible matter be eagerly devoured and swallowed before them.

“Look – this is… this is pretty scary for me too y’know…” The rookie’s voice trailed off – this was kind of his fault in the first place. Both getting onto this Mandalorian in the first place and the decision to stick with him – if they ended up digested here, then he wouldn’t blame the older trooper for being angry…

“…shit. No, I’m kind of being a dick here huh? I just—” A stray half-chewed mass of meat tumbled down beside them. “I’m pretty nervous here myself. S’not your fault – I am your superior here… kinda – I should’ve looked out for this a little more.”

Behind the helmet, LS-946’s eyes widened. Was the other scout having an actual heart-to-heart here? He wasn’t sure if it was from the hot and slimy interior of the mouth or the touching attitude of his fellow trooper, but he shivered. “That’s… thanks, 322. Don’t beat yourself up though – we made it this far, right? I’m sure we can hang on a little longer!” His voice lowered in volume slightly. “Besides… I’m pretty sure we’re the same rank, y’know~”

“Heh – honestly, I’m surprised I’ve kept my grip for this lo— hey what’s that supposed to mean!?”

Oblivious to the bickering of the two scouts trapped in his mouth, Mando let out another soft sigh as he chewed his way through the rest of the soup. Soon, all that was left was a small slab – a cube of meat, merely splattered in the red broth that once kept it aloft. Quickly reaching over with his spoon once more, the bounty hunter scooped up the sodden section of meat before tossing it into his open mouth. Feeling it smack atop his waiting tongue, Mando allowed himself a pleased hum and quickly got to work chewing it – it seemed the cooking had gotten a bit better.

“I have seniority over you, rook – got it?” To punctuate his point, the older scout looked down sternly at LS-946. “Experience outranks everything.” The momentary distraction proved to be a grave error however, as before the self-proclaimed veteran could notice it, a large cube of meat came soaring through the air towards them. “F-fucking sheb!” Was all LS-322 managed to shout before the huge block slammed directly into their safety perch, bending the frail leaf and sending the two troopers tumbling down.

This was their second freefall for the day, though it was noticeably briefer than the other. The pair of soldiers landed with a wet noise on a totally soaked surface. A brief glance around revealed the vast, curved surface of the tongue around them, covered in a mixture of spit and broth. It was all around them, sending the micros into a panicked, frenzied climb towards the outside world.

“Gods—” LS-322 mouthed as he glanced over his shoulder at the terrifying abyss of the Mandalorian’s throat.

“Grab onto his taste buds!” LS-946 exclaimed, scrambling up little by little towards the exit.

Desperately hugging the vast tongue, LS-322 looked around at the teeth surrounding them on almost all sides. He watched as they began making short work of the practically inhaled cube alongside the final scraps of soup still stuck in the mouth, while the tongue continued shifting side to side, curling up with each slop of food falling onto it. The tiny taste buds below that served as little handgrips seemed to pulsate every second and a grim thought came to the older man and he wondered, just what must he have tasted like to the giant Mandalorian?

It was instantly recognizable when their unwitting captor had finished. The chewed mess of food was bounced towards them and there was nothing either of them could do as they found themselves quickly buried in slops of soup ingredients. Through the mess, LS-322 found his fellow trooper’s hand and clung on tight as he tried uselessly to pull free. Was this it? Turning to the younger man, he squeezed the hand gently and tried to prepare himself for the inevitable intense pressure of being swallowed…

*Thunk*

Above, the half-shredded scrap of bay leaf came loose and fluttered down towards the giant’s throat – sliding against the hanging uvula.

*GLRK!*

Outside, the bounty hunter froze at the sudden tickling against the back of his throat. Thousands of years of biological evolution kicked in and his head swung forward as a splutter escaped his mouth. One hand rushing to hold his helmet, while the other instinctively moved to cover his mouth – he quickly coughed into it, groaning in annoyance at the irritation.

With a sigh, the Mandalorian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, oblivious to then two sentient specks that this minor irritation had just spared.

From the two scout’s perspective, the entire ordeal was a tad more dramatic however; a violent ear-splitting clap from deep within the titan’s body propelled the two of them with enough force to send them flying – a split-second of flight at least, cut short by the sudden appearance of a wall in their path.

“Ugh!” The rookie grunted as he body smacked against the strangely soft surface. Disoriented and confused, he glanced around. “Are… are we…?”

“Holy kark, rook – we’re alive! Screw the gods – I’m extolling the virtues of the mighty bay leaf for the rest of my life!” The kind of joy and amazement that could only come from surviving a near-death experience had struck the two as they lay in a wet huddle in the middle of the Mandalorian’s hand. It was a quick relief though, as the hand began to shift, forcing the two to hold on once more. “Well! We should probably get a move on before we get swallowed again or something…”

“Yeah! Uh… do you want to climb back onto his wrist again? We can rest on his bracers like you wanted—”

“Nah, I am done with experiments and surprises today. We’re going in his glove, rookie – at least if he crushes us in there, it’ll be quick.” It was a slightly concerning statement, but being perfectly honest, the young scout wasn’t entirely sure he had the energy to cling onto the sleeve for the rest of the day either.

As if on cue, the Mando’s arm lowered itself down to the table, weightily landing atop it with a soft, yet imposing thump, giving the two scouts the much-needed chance to relocate. With a wordless nod, they carefully crawled over the gloved hand as they approached the opening at the wrist.

Dark and slightly ominous as it was, it still beckoned them with a pleasant, relaxing warmth. LS-322 took the lead for a change, moving in as had seemingly accepted the danger at this point. A moan escaped him as he crawled inside the tight space and found himself pressed softly against the bare flesh. The tight confines of the glove, resembled a kind of sauna, albeit tight, though strangely comfortable as well. This time he didn’t even have to put up with any eye-watering smells like back inside the boot – the only scent here was a relaxing aroma of leather, alongside a faint but oddly prominent residue of the Mandalorian’s palm from every time flesh brushed against the interior of the glove.

LS-946 was quick behind his mentor and a similar noise of relief escaped the younger trooper as he finally allowed himself to relax. The two were just settling in, when the Mandalorian finally stood up, jolting their world into action once more. A familiar sense of vertigo was followed by a spike of pressure as, without thinking much of it, the Mandalorian pulled his gloves on tight. The action sealed the two scouts firmly against his palm. Dropping a few credits on the table to pay for his meal, the bounty hunter continued on his way.

The two scouts gave each other a glance.

“I uh… guess we’re not leaving anytime soon…”

“Eh – it took him like what, an hour to get here? I’ll give him another two hours to finish whatever he wanted to do here and then another to get back – which gives us some solid naptime here!”

“Heh – you never change, huh 322?”

“Why, rookie – I’ll take that as a compliment towards your superior!” LS-322 grinned behind the helmet, his smugness earning a playful shove from the smaller man.

They had no trouble getting comfortable, despite being trapped against the body of another man once more. Their breathing began to gradually slow down as their bodies relaxed. They were pressed against the warm flesh, sighing in relief as the rhythmic noise of the Mandalorian’s steady pace gradually lulled them to sleep.

Despite almost getting eaten… it hadn’t been a terrible day.