It's true what they said about Wookiee fur. There was nothing softer against the skin—nothing more luxurious, especially the fur of the females. Despite the species' notoriety for savagery and high temperament, they were equally well-known for their cleanliness and the great care they expended on their coats, a source of pride. The fierce reputation and the high quality made their pelts invaluable on the black market. No one knew these truths more intimately than Senator Kunel Folth.

When a chance to inspect a black market shipment of Wookiee pelts came to his ear, he wasted no time securing the cargo container for inspection. With his administrative powers over Corellia's Customs and Declarations Office, his word was law on the docks. Nothing came into the port and nothing left without his approval and some kickback to fattened his credit accounts. There were perks to official office, and he took advantage of every one of them.

The illegal pelts were being stored in a climate-controlled chamber to preserve them while in transit. These pelts were reportedly fresh, according to his intel, recently cured. That meant the feral musk of the beasts was still present. A public demagogue with a perverse fetish, Folth could barely contain himself.

Topping the scales at 136 kilograms, the politician could barely squeeze his undulating belly through the narrow channels of the customs holding docks. The extra twisting, shifting, and maneuvering, plus the long walk from Comptroller Rassan's office had left him winded and sweating profusely. His orange skin grew damp and pasty as his laboring heart fought to keep pace with his exertions and his excitement. Throwing back the fake, implanted blond locks over the balding crown of his bulbous head, he paused at a narrow intersection to catch his breath.

Twisted fantasies left him lightheaded and made it ever more difficult to walk in a straight line, but after a moment to check his data pad, he finally came to platform 1-112. As ordered, the surveillance cameras were dark, powered down, and the alarm sensors had been disabled from the source. With a gleeful grin on his paunchy face, he hurriedly entered the access code and stood back as the pressurized door hissed, adjusting to stabilize the interior chamber.

Tentatively stepping inside, Folth activated the control panel for light. The bulbs winked on with a crackling, like the struggling flame of a candle, and then slowly brightened with a dull luminescence. Cheap, Folth thought to himself. The prize inside the container was worth millions, and yet the poachers could not be bothered with a decent light source?

The weak bulbs grew warmer, casting a thin veil of light across the 20 by 20-meter container and its contents. Pelt after silken pelt of Wookiee fur was carefully draped against the walls in thick bundles. There were so many that the shipment could not be accommodated on the garment strips, so huge piles of the furs laid neatly stacked on the floor.

A shipment worth millions? Folth thought. The treasure laying before him was worth tens of millions! Being the businessman that he was, the senator was certain of it, and before he agreed to release the container from customs he intended to renegotiate his fee.

Closing the door behind him and arming the lock, Folth closed his eyes and breathed in the musk of the fresh pelts. He drank in the aromas of fresh earth and exotic forests as he slowly, deliberately ran one hand over the pelts on the wall and the other across his neck and chest and below his hips.

He could wait no longer! With a low groan, he quickly kicked off his slippers and stripped down naked.

Pressing his face into the pelts on the wall, he rubbed his grotesque body across the luxurious fur with a lascivious grin spreading his lips. Double chins quivering, he moaned in aroused delight at the contact and rubbed his nose through the delicate hairs. He breathed deeply, over stimulated by the faint scent of the chemicals used to cure the pelts and the unmistakeable musk of the Wookiee fur itself.

With not a stitch of clothing on his body, he swung around and shifted his fleshy buttocks from side to side, reveling in the sensation of the fur against his bare cheeks. The pelts were surprisingly warm to the touch; something he had not anticipated.

Bent over at the knees, he continued grinding his backside against the warm pelt until he was so disoriented that he felt it move behind him. Confused, Folth paused his solo lap dance, still bent over, when he felt the pelt bump against him, soundly, and then it growled before grabbing his hairy butt and shoving him to the floor.

Sprawled across a pile of Wookiee pelts, Folth gasped in terror and snatched a handful of furs to cover his nakedness. Flopping over onto his back with some effort, he cowered in the shadow of a terror. Flesh and blood, fur and glistening canines, the Wookiee moved away from the wall of pelts toward him.

"Wh-what is the meaning of this?" Folth shouted. "You're making a huge mistake. Huge! So huge you couldn't possibly comprehend it."

A second and third towering figure moved away from the wall. Eyes narrowed in fury, the Wookiees surrounded him, low growls of menace rising in the backs of their throats.

"This isn't what it looks like!"

"Isn't it, Senator Folth?" said a voice from a security-cam droid as it descended from its hiding place in the ceiling of the container. With a creak of metal, the container door slid open and the man behind the voice stepped into the shipping chamber in the gray and black uniform of the comptroller of the facility.

"You recorded me, Rassan!" Folth squealed. "I'll ruin your career! When I'm done with you, you won't even be considered for hired muscle at the local cantina."

"My career? My reputation?" Comptroller Rassan grinned wryly, clasping his hands behind his back. "Let's talk about your career and reputation or rather what will be left of them come morning. Senator Folth, you are under arrest."

"You don't have the right. By who's authority—"

"Them." Rassan chuckled sardonically as the Wookiees surrounded the naked politician. "And the civil authority of this Galactic Republic."

"The charges?"

Rassan rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Beyond being morally bankrupt? How about illegal trafficking of banned commodities, funneling Republic funds into your failed business monopolies, and treason. And that's just for a start. I would have to walk a light year to read the rest of your offenses." Comptroller Rassan smiled. "Beauty really is only skin deep, Senator Folth. You've aptly proven that with your behavior." He gestured to the Wookiee security team. "Take him."