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This is a story written by me and 
JordilianVector featuring none other than Plo Koon from the Star Wars franchise! JV is absolutely besotted with this Kel Dor and honestly after sitting down and watching some of the content with Plo in it I can't blame him. This is a two parter so make sure to read the second part and please give the submissions on JV's profile some love too!
A fairly long story, featuring Plo's hypothetical Padawan who is about as obsessed with the man as we are, shrinking himself to explore his master's room in his absence. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, Plo returns to his room early, none the wiser to the little intruder lost on the floor~
Check out Part 2 here!
___
Devious Ploy (Part 1)
“Alright…” Den sighed as he spoke to himself, a nervous habit he hadn’t entirely managed to let go yet. “Everything is in place.” Looking around his master’s room, the young Padawan couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the thought of what he was about to do.
Earlier that day his mentor – Plo Koon – had been urgently called to another system to assist Republic Forces in some ongoing campaign. And while Den had been eager to come along, Plo had insisted that the young Padawan just wasn’t ready for true battle experience.
“Soon, young Den,” Plo had assured, giving Den’s shoulder a firm, comforting grip, “that much I promise you. But all things have a proper order.”
“Yes, master.” As frustrating as it was, Den wasn’t going to disappoint the man who had save his life. He owed everything he had to Master Plo, the steady growth of his powers, his training and reflexes, even his life… He had been nothing more than a starving, nameless nobody when Plo had found him and offered him a chance to become a Jedi knight – how could he disobey?
Still, Master Plo’s sudden departure left Den with a lot of time, and the perfect opportunity to enact a plan, oh so long in the making.
Between the tips of his fingers he now held a tiny metal ball, one that he had managed to sneak out of the Temple Vault – an artifact that Master Plo had explained to him once.
---
“Now this…” Plo had spoken up as he lead Den towards a small pedestal in the center of a huge open room. “This may not look like much, but this is a powerful relic indeed. While its activation properties make it somewhat difficult to truly weaponize, the ability to reduce in size – whether yourself or your opponent – is no trifling matter.“ Plo threw a quick glance over his shoulder, to gauge his Padawan’s reaction. “Even the smallest things can bring about your doom, if you let them, my Padawan. Take care to remember that.”
---
Carefully, Den set the ball down, making sure to balance it on the intersection between floor tiles so it wouldn’t just roll away. Ensuring that the little thing sat steady, he exhaled. “Forgive me, master.” He muttered under his breath, feeling his stomach lurch a bit in excitement. “But I’d go crazy if I didn’t at least try…” He crouched and reached two fingers down towards the puny metal sphere before pausing, shaking his head and sharply standing up. “Door?” he mouthed, heading over to the access panel to make sure it was locked. “Check. Outdoor gear?” He glanced at himself. “Check. A way to reverse the effect in an easily accessible spot?” He glanced down at the device in the middle of the room and nodded. “Check! Alright…” He exhaled again, deeper this time. “Here goes nothing!” And with a gentle press, his index finger sunk the tiny button into the relic as the world around him was consumed by a brilliant light blue flash.
A dull throb echoed through the Padawan’s head. He groaned and hissed as he pressed his hands against the floor and shakily pushed himself up. “Force… did they really have to make the process so nauseating?” He was glad now that the excitement of his upcoming scheme had left him skipping his midday meal.
As Den blinked, the world around him slowly came into clearer view. What he saw, immediately had his eyes widening – sure enough, he had shrunk. Taking a few steps back, the Padawan flinched as he fell right back onto a smooth, surprisingly lukewarm surface of a floor tile. With a gasp the young man threw a glance over his shoulder only to spot a familiar metal ball. Well, familiar except for its now massive size.
“That’s the relic…” he observed with a nervous gulp. It was a sobering reminder of just how small he had become – the ball that had fit neatly between his fingers was now at least three times his size. The warmth he felt in the floor actually seemed to be coming from the spherical device – likely the lingering heat from his own fingertips. Looking around again, Den tried to orient himself in this new world. It was one thing to survey his target destinations from above, but now that his point of view was so much closer to the ground, even just navigating his master’s room had become a bit of an issue.
A part of Den expected to find an all new layer of clutter at this scale: tiny pebbles, bits of dust and detritus – things left invisible to a normal person, but Master Plo seemed surprisingly thorough about keeping things orderly. Nearly sterile floors, not a single thing out of place… Normally this sort of thing would only further Den’s respect for his mentor, but given the purpose of his little journey, locating a suitable place to explore was somewhat frustrating. Or would have been, had Plo Koon not left a spare set of boots before heading out.
There, under the gigantic structure he vaguely recognized as a bed the Padawan finally spotted his goal - his absent master’s enormous boots. They were simple items of attire – his master, like most Jedi, held firm beliefs in regards to unnecessary possessions after all. Yet those simple boots that most would be quick to dismiss as basic, everyday gear, took on a whole new meaning in the eyes of the tiny man. His eyes widened more, scanning every inch of the distant leathery surface.
Small cracks, lines of wear and tear, the beginnings of dirt and dust gathering – things that one could never spot at a normal size were revealed to him. He could spend a full day exploring the vast expanse of these monoliths – a thought that left him shivering and imagining if those very boots were being worn right now… how much would Master Plo tower over him?
Images of the gigantic Kel Dor looming above, no doubt able to level entire battlefields with just a few steps flashed through his mind. Of course, Plo would never do such a thing – no, Den could imagine in fact the exact opposite occurring with the Jedi Master using his immense size to separate and lecture foes. The thought of having that disapproving voice rumbling through his bones really should not have been as exciting to Den as it was – and he mentally slapped himself to regain focus.
His… fantasies could wait. The boots were a good distance away and right now Den wanted nothing more than to get very up-close and personal with them. Taking a breath, he dashed forward.
With no desire to waste any more time, the young Padawan ran as fast as he could without winding himself, constantly keeping his gaze on the prize ahead. Yet as two minutes passed, the massive boots on the horizon simply refused to grow any closer. Another two and Den reached some sort of… ditch? It was a massive canal – a straight black line running deep through the landscape. It confused him for a moment, but his mind adjusted quickly – he had simply reached the end of a floor tile!
With a huff, he thought back to his training with Master Plo...
---
Landing painfully on his behind he looked up, watching his Kel Dor mentor already standing over him with an outstretched hand. “I don’t get it, master!”
“Patience, young Den. A Jedi’s power comes from patience as much as effort.” Plo nodded, his hand grasping Den’s and pulling the young man up.
“But I’ve been trying my best for so long now!”
“Hmmm…” Hand resting over his mask, Plo regarded his protégé with a thoughtful glance. “Sometimes all it takes one more time. Focus not on the attempt, but on the result. Visualize it, see yourself soaring to your destination, close your eyes if it helps you. And then… simply do it.” He lay his hands on Den’s shoulders. “I have faith in you, young Den.”
“Alright.” He nodded. “Alright, I can do it!”
As his master took a few steps back, Den closed his eyes, imagining himself leaping into the air with ease. He crouched down a bit, bending his knees and feeling the weight in his legs.
---
And the next second, Den flew! Soaring high overhead and easily clearing the gap before transitioning into a practiced, if still somewhat awkward roll.
“Ha-hah!” He exclaimed, triumphantly pumping his fist in the air as he looked back over the obstacle. Suddenly his celebration felt a little silly. He sighed, for a second he had almost forgotten he was jumping over a groove between floor tiles.
Still… His destination hadn’t changed, and if nothing else, this should at least count as training, right? Maybe when Master Plo came back, he’d have something to show for all this at least.
…
It took him a good fifteen minutes of running and leaping over tiny gaps in the floor, but finally Den had made it. Slightly winded after all, he stepped into the shadow of the looming bed and approached the objects of his desire.
Towering far over him – looming so tall, he had to crane his neck just to see the top of them – the boots stood before him in all their glory. Every stain, every cut, every bend, and every crease… all filled with a vast history of being worn by his mentor. Den couldn’t help but shudder, thinking back to the man himself again for a moment. “Master Plo…” He mouthed quietly as he ran his hand along the surface. He wasn’t even tall enough to reach past the sole – it stood like a platform above him, separating him from the gentle curve that housed the toe of his master’s foot.
It was an intoxicating feeling, yet as much as he was eager to continue his climb upwards, to see the top of the boot, to see from the top of it too, and to breathe in the residual scent of his master’s feet, no doubt engulfing the entire inside of the structure… As much as those all called out to him, he simply couldn’t bring himself to rush on forward, instead taking a step closer, pressing his entire body against the wall of leather in front of him, brushing his cheek against it and exhaling softly…
Of all the people in this galaxy… Nobody could make him feel as at peace as Master Plo had…
That comforting thought removed Den of his last inhibitions as he groaned, buying his face deeper into the leather. He mapped out every section of it that he could, memorizing the texture with his skin. The section of this leather was rather worn – to be expected of the front part of Master Plo’s boot – and briefly the tiny Padawan wondered just how much these trusty boots had seen, what kind of actions they had experienced.
He wasn’t jealous of his master’s boots… not in the slightest. A part of him did… wish to be this permanently up close to the Kel Dor’s feet… to be both figuratively and literally underneath them as Plo trudged through unsteady land, dutifully supporting the titan’s feet…
Maybe he was ever so slightly jealous.
Blushing, he drew back bashfully before looking up. As fun as it was, he still had a destination in mind. That was when the next problem presented itself – with how tidy his master was, there appeared to be no easy way up. Frowning, tiny Den walked around the edge of the boot as he searched for some way to proceed – perhaps some loose stitching or a small hole he could sneak his way through, but nothing presented itself. It appeared there would be no shortcuts here – the only way up was directly up which would no doubt be a tough journey. Well, on the plus side if word somehow did get back to Master Plo about his little expedition he could try to justify it as some intense training…
Den tried to comfort himself with that as he scrambled up the bottom of his master’s boot. The hardened leather making up the outsole was his first obstacle; the Kel Dor had seemingly polished the exterior recently and the slick surface had the shrunken Padawan slipping and falling. At least he was still close to the ground – such falls further up could actually do real damage. It took a few tries but eventually he pushed through - letting out a yelp as once more he focused and jumped unnaturally high into the air, allowing him to cling to the softer leather above. He was still a little unsteady but his aptitude for force-empowered athletics was growing!
Letting out a few excited cries, Den continued to half-climb, half-bounce up the boot as he used frayed sections of leather as makeshift handgrips. He was only halfway up but he could sense the first hints of the overpowering aroma floating its way out of the steaming interior of the boot. The faint smell only further empowered him, flashing fantasies through his head of spending days marinating in that musk, letting his master’s pure and potent smell coat every part of him.
So caught up was little Den in his fantasies that he took no heed to the distant rumblings that could easily be dismissed. It wasn’t until it was too late that he finally paused at the odd sound.
bang… bang… bang… BANG…
Far away, a good half hour of walking was the entryway that Den had snuck in through what seemed like ages ago. The closed door parted like an ancient, mythical gate – something so huge coming into motion so easily, as if pushed by a deity. Indeed, that was not a bad analogy, for the parting doorway revealed none other than the subject of the tiny Padawan’s immense devotion – Plo Koon.
“Master you shouldn’t be here…!” Den’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he bit his lip – it was a truly, truly amazing sight that defied his earlier fantasies. The towering Kel Dor could step on him and remove him from existence without even realizing it. It was also that exact thought that had him worried – this just became incredibly dangerous and if his master did find him then he would be in no small amount of trouble for such a foolish, dangerous move. What was the titan even doing here? Maybe he was just grabbing something he forgot and would be leaving shortly…?
”Indeed…” Den gasped at how loud and booming the voice was – practically vibrating his bones as it shook his core. Master Plo was speaking into his wrist at the familiar blue light of a hologram. ”A timely arrival from General Secura has rendered my support rather unneeded… oh quite the opposite! Commander Wolffe was rather looking forward to ah, ‘show the shinies how it’s done…’” An immense rumbling erupted from above that had Den cringing before he realized it was his master’s laughter – and despite how it sent his body into a flurry a part of him couldn’t help but smile at it even now.
Then the titan took a step forward and Den’s smile immediately faded. The boot slammed down sending a tremor through the earth, almost sending Den flying off his perch if not for a timely scramble. However more worrying was the small orb in the distance slowly spinning from the force. It didn’t take a genius to work out that the direction of his master’s pace was set to unceremoniously pave over the tiny relic’s position.
“Wait – no… no! Master Plo!” Den yelped as he glanced down. A drop at this height would be too much for his limited force powers to cushion. Cringing, he started a panicked climb down, slipping and sliding off frayed leather as he kept throwing glances back at the approaching titan. “Come on… come on… come on!” The shrunken Padawan muttered in a mantra as he nearly lost his grip. He was only halfway down, and his master was…
Looking down, his body froze. Another slam of the boot sending an even stronger tremor as the other boot raised into the sky casting a shadow… directly over his tiny relic. A cry of panic escaped Den as images played through his head of that boot stomping down, reducing the powerful relic to scrap as his kind, gentle master would frown at the minute noise, raising his boot up and pausing at the shards left behind, dismissing it as some mere trinket and pulling out a dustpan and broom to sweep away any hope Den ever had of growing back. Suddenly all those fantasies about living under his master’s feet for eternity felt a little too real.
With no care for his plight, the boot hovered in the air for a second before lowering directly down, shadow descending squarely onto the relic. Den didn’t know what happened next – he reached a hand out and shouted and the small orb rolled gently towards him, avoiding the brunt of the impact, causing the tip of the boot to instead scrape just at the back of it, flinging it right towards the scared Padawan with a horrifying clattering cacophony. Any relief or joy would have had to wait as the sudden velocity of a surprisingly weighty object that struck the boot finally proved too much for Den’s grip. His hands faltered and he screamed, entering freefall.
Air rushed around him and all Den could think about was how this would affect Plo. How would the kindly Kel Dor react to his Padawan going missing? It would hurt and upset him and that thought most of all sent a pang of grief through to Den as he screwed his eyes shut and braced for impact…
bang
“Oof!”
It was none too gentle a landing as Den gasped at the pain flooding his back. Thankfully it mostly knocked the air out of him, getting a few shaky breaths as the tiny Padawan stumbled up. The only damage would be light bruising. Any attempts at dusting himself off were interrupted by those massive approaching boots in front of him stepping closer as panic flooded him. The discarded boots were just behind him but a few meters in front was the small metal orb that did this to him in the first place. Should he hide and maybe wait for Master Plo to leave or try growing himself back now and explaining himself?
The choice had him nervously looking between his options and a groan escaped Den. He knew the right call was to grow back but he also didn’t fancy a lecture from Master Plo and even worse that slightly disappointed look he knew he’d be getting. Maybe hiding was a better option?
Once again the choice was removed from him. Plo stepped forward again and rather that continuing forward, it came to a sudden stop. Before Den could figure out the reason, the boots turned sideways and the imposing form of the gigantic Kel Dor made an appearance as Plo crouched down. That head with its always serene looking expression took up the vast majority of his view and Den flinched, just barely avoiding the urge to stumble back onto his ass.
The goggled eyes seemed to be staring right at him and Den’s mouth had never felt drier. “Um… Master Plo! I can… I can explain this! You see I was… doing some personal training in extreme conditions…? Using—”
That familiar, booming sensation of his master’s chuckle struck him immediately drowning out the hesitant Padawan.
”Ah, what’s this? Hmm… The younglings really ought to be taking better care of their toys.”
Confusion etched itself onto Den’s face as the deafening statement tried to make sense in his head. Before it could, sudden movement made itself known and the minuscule human’s face paled at the truly imposing sight before him. A Kel Dor’s hand – four sharply clawed fingers, the second one adorned with a familiar ceremonial accessory – approached right towards him. Den was strangely familiar with his master’s hands – it was another part of his mentor’s body he had an odd fascination with. On more than one occasion he had examined the fingers under the guise of checking out the old-fashioned force focus as Plo chuckled and encouraged him, explaining its function as Den tried not to blush at the fingers resting over his, twitching and flexing, all while he tried to resist the urge to hold them up to his face to get a better look.
Now it seemed Plo was intent on giving him that up-close look. Except despite the inherent horniness of the situation the small animal part of his brain balked and sent him into a sprint as he tried to flee, crying out as sharp claws easily outpaced him. There was nothing he could do as one finger knocked him onto his ass before continuing further along and all he could do was flip around to try and spot a direction out of this only to see that giant palm lower right onto him.
“Master Plo – Master Pl—” A whine escaped him as a heavy weight settled. He could feel the warm, soft, yet hard texture of the hand gently crush him – the sensation was bizarre yet pleasant. To be so thoroughly pinned and restrained by just the simple force of a dormant hand? It was overwhelming. Den could barely squirm as he pushed against the hand himself and a part of him swore he could feel the hand twitching back.
For better or for worse the moment lasted for what was probably just seconds before the hand raised back up, a heavy inhale from Den marking that moment as air rushed back in. He could see the giant palm ascend once more, relic in tow, as the lingering heat from Plo’s hand left his body flushed. That was… nice. Weird! But nice…
However, the sight of the hand retreating back with his relic firmly in its grip was less nice. Especially as his sprawled body watched Plo bring the orb right before his face as Den cringed and waited for his master to immediately realize what was going on.
”A marble? No matter, I will return it later. I suppose I should keep it safe for now though…”
“What? That isn’t… it isn’t a marble!” the Padawan instinctively shouted in response. “I mean I suppose without the pre-knowledge of what it is that an easy mistake but surely you recognize it, master!”
A thought hit Den then – just how many relics had Plo come across over the years? He knew the Jedi vaults were full of them – with Plo’s centuries of history with the Jedi, was it possible that the Kel Dor had forgotten about the small orb relic they had come across a few months back?
“Master Plo – you can’t… that’s my only way of growing back!” Den stumbled forward as he watched Plo casually lower the relic, right over one of his robe pockets before letting go, watching the small orb roll inside. What had he gotten himself into!?
Den spent the next few minutes panicking and trying formulating a plan, while his master paced back and forth along the room, approaching one end, then another. It was hard to tell what the looming titan was doing from Den’s vantage point under the bed, but the slow, methodical rhythm of his mentor’s footsteps felt almost… soothing?
He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head at the thought, at how much of a disappointment he was. Giving in to such basic urges and ending up like this? Sure, he had tried to be careful, he taken precautions, but…
A deep sigh escaped him, followed a sudden jolt of his entire body was tossed in the air from Plo Koon’s boot slamming down beside him. The oblivious Jedi master merely passed by – a single powerful footfall, no different from countless others the giant had taken that day…
---
“One of the many things you have to hone your senses to recognize, young Den, is the difference between bravery and foolishness.”
Sitting across a chessboard from Den was his mentor, engaging the young Padawan in a deceptively intricate game of tactics.
“There is a key difference between admitting defeat and giving up.”
“But don’t I lose either way?” Den cocked an eyebrow at his opponent, not at all thrilled with the current state of the board. “What’s the point of fighting if I know I cannot win?” He looked up at his master, silently demanding an answer.
The Kel Dor’s deep, pleasant chuckle filled the room. “In a mere game of chess, yes. But when you stand to lose it all on the field of battle, would you not rather fight to the end, knowing you have done all you can to defend what matters most to you?”
---
Den shook his head, taking a deep breath in and out before picking himself up from his rather unsightly position on the ground. “C’mon, Den!” He urged himself, giving his cheeks a couple of claps. “Master Plo taught you better than this!”
By the time his mentor’s terrifying footfalls finally ceased, Den’s thoughts were a little clearer. Instead of panicking or succumbing to despair, he was looking around for an opening. And it seemed fate was kind to him today – a data pad in his hands, the Jedi Knight sat in an armchair nearby. He still had a chance! If his mentor was settling down to read, then he may just be able to get inside the pocket and activate the relic again before Master Plo left! It hadn’t hit him until just then but, whatever earful he would get paled in comparison to the fate of a speck… trapped in the Jedi’s room… forced to live in constant fear of the mighty footfalls of the man who-
Den clapped his cheeks again, hard. “Focus, damn you!” Shaking his head again, he dashed forth, leaping over a nearby gap in the floor without even thinking this time. His master was a good distance away, but he’d made it halfway across this vast chamber in less than 20 minutes, he could do this!
But with a living, breathing, moving being looming on the horizon, the stakes of his journey felt a lot more dramatic. It was one thing to run towards an inanimate object, merely dwarfing you in size, and completely another to be approaching a sentient creature of such unimaginable power. One loose shift of Plo Koon’s body and the little Padawan would be a distant memory – nothing but a fading stain somewhere on his master’s form.
Den bit his lip and took another deep breath. There was no stopping these thoughts, was there?
And, as if privy to all the things lurking within his Padawan’s mind, Master Plo began to move again. His data pad set off to the side, the Kel Dor bent forward, reaching both hands towards his boots, and slowly, ever-so-slowly slipping them off, one at a time.
Den couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight, nearly tripping and falling into the next ditch between the tiles, as those fleshy monoliths rose into the air. There, like floating continents they soared, before landing on the ground with a deep, resonant smack. His master’s feet were an incredibly rare and desirable sight, and now Den was forced to witness every detail from this new angle – every shift of skin, every bend and crease… as those massive digits wiggled before him.
The little Padawan was beet red, staring up into the sky and panting as he tried desperately to calm his racing heartbeat. “By the Force… I have… I have truly been blessed.” He muttered with a gulp, basking in the privilege he was so generously granted by the whims of fate.
Two more claps on either cheek, and the young man got himself up. “This is a test!” he decided. “If I can’t stay focused long enough to grow back, then I don’t deserve to!” Gathering what was left of his rapidly fading willpower, the future Jedi jumped to his feet and paced on, racing towards the giant’s feet to begin his grueling, borderline hopeless attempt to ascend.
The smell much like the one that still clung faintly to the pair of boots back under the bed, washed over Den like a sandstorm, covering the sky and obscuring his perspective. The rich, powerful scent was as overwhelming as it was intoxicating, but Den refused to give in now! With a loud battlecry, he focused on his legs and pushed himself off the ground into yet another force-empowered leap – soon clinging to one of his master’s toes like a particularly stubborn flea, slowly, agonizingly slowly making his way up.
The firm, leathery texture, the scent, the subtle motions that threatened to erase the tiny Padawan from existence – or, at the very least, any progress he had made – little Den had to ignore it all as his singular desire to reach the relic and bring himself back to normal crystalized into an unparalleled feeling of determination. This was it! He could do it! It was a long way up but-!
“H-huh?” The little Padawan’s jaw hung lose as he saw the very object of his desire casually rolling along the floor a few dozen meters behind him. He threw a confused glance up and just about managed to catch a glimpse of Master Plo’s palm before it lowered back towards the armrest.
And then, before the little thing could react in any way, the foot lurched forward, sending the speck-sized man flying.
Had it not been for his training, he would have flopped on the ground once again, but as it were, he just barely landed on his feet, skidding along the ground and once again falling into the gap between the tiles.
”Hmmm…” His enormous teacher hummed, his foot set firmly on the cool metal ball, holding it down with ease.
Den’s landing within the large ravine making up the tile gap was rough, but softened by a strange, slightly sticky material. Master Plo took great care to keep his room tidy – it was something Den had noted with awe several times throughout this little adventure already – but even that had limits. The minuscule space between the tiles that would be unreachable at normal sizes harbored all manner of dirt and debris. The exact composition of it was impossible to tell, but if the Kel Dor’s affinity for pacing around was any indication, then the tiny Padawan might have become trapped amongst the bits of boot grime that had fallen down here.
That… really shouldn’t have been eliciting the reaction from him that it was.
Thankfully before he could further embarrass himself, he was immediately kicked out of his introspection by the continuing calamity that was Master Plo’s feet moving. The ground continued to quake, and Den found himself glad to be concealed down here, away from the prowling appendage. However, as he glanced up, any relief at being deep inside a gap in the floor was shot away when he caught sight of a very familiar metal orb. It slowly rolled above him as that huge, leathery sole lowered directly onto it.
“Wait! Master Plo— no!” Den was helpless as he watched from far down as the literal hundreds of tons of flesh settled down onto it before slowly grinding back and forth. The shrunken man hadn’t done any kind of boundary testing on the relic – for all he knew it could be crushed any second! Scrambling upwards, Den made to start desperately scaling the cliff-face that was the edge of the tile when a darkness settled over him. Far above, Plo’s foot rolled forward and that worn, supple flesh crashed down directly over the tile gap.
Darkness covered most of the world except for the few beams of light escaping at the far ends where the Kel Dor foot did not stretch out to. The dim light it provided gave Den a view of the twitching sky above as his master continued to exert his foot upon the relic. The young man could hear the sound of the smooth metal being carelessly rolled about, it seeped faintly through the much louder booming of Plo’s feet casually scraping against the floor tiles.
He should be moving – Den thought – he should be shouting and doing everything he can to get out of here. But his legs wobbled, all he could manage was drop to the ground in both fear and awe. A light, yet ever-present aroma filled the air and the Padawan couldn’t stop a shiver racing through his body.
What broke him out of his stupor was a sudden splash of liquid drenching him. With a cry, Den rolled over and spotted the culprit – beads of sweat far above dripping down from the foot – which meant he was covered in…
“F-focus!” Den steeled himself and stumbled along to the left until he could see light directly above him again. Placing a hand against the tile wall, he once again took a breath to steady himself. He had done this earlier – he could do it again! Ignoring the uncomfortable damp clothing hanging off his body, the Padawan took a short inhale before slamming his hand against the vertical edge and pushing himself up. A short leap later and he quickly established a rhythm, jumping up the side of the tile higher and higher until finally—
“Yes!” The tiny man pulled his body up one last time as he flipped himself back on top of the tiles once more. He took a moment to take pride in his quickly developing mastery of this force technique before looking back up at the very titan he knew had been trying to teach it to him for the past few months.
“I’ll fix this Master Plo… I promise!” Naturally, the Kel Dor gave no response, apart from continuing to grind down on the relic. Thankfully, it didn’t seem too fragile at least, it would have, no doubt, turned to dust by now otherwise. But there was no telling how much longer it would last – Den needed to be quick. Rushing around the foot, the tiny Padawan stared directly in front of him as he lined himself up with the target. He… didn’t have many options here. Maybe his master would notice him more easily now?
He spent a minute shouting his master’s name and jumping about, waving his arms, anything he could think of… Only to slump as Plo’s familiar, kind face continued to stare at in the data pad in his hands, completely engrossed. Whatever it was – a mission report or a shipping manifest – was likely important, after all, no Jedi Knight – let alone Plo Koon – was supposed to waste time on idle curiosities. So what chance did a tiny speck like Den have at breaking the giant’s focus? No, he would have to take action and rescue himself.
Den took a step forth, ready to rush forward to try and wrestle the relic away from the feet, when a timely flex of the Master Plo’s toes made him pause and reconsider. He… probably wouldn’t survive a direct attack on his master’s appendages. Still he couldn’t very well give up before he tried! Suddenly, his latest chess match against his mentor came to mind again – sometimes an indirect approach was much more effective. Rather than physically retrieving it, perhaps he could reach out with the force instead? Sure, the damn relic towered over him now, but he could have sworn he managed to make it budge earlier, perhaps he could duplicate the feat? He had seen Plo lift entire ships before in extremely dire situations, surely he could manage at least this much – he had to!
Clenching his fists, the shrunken Padawan tried to mimic the pose he had seen his mentor assume when lifting stuff. It was a bit of an awkward replica, complicated further due to the fact that the Kel Dor possessed one less finger than him – how would this even work!?
---
”You are too focused on the physical realm, Den.” Plo’s soft tone echoed around the spacious training arena as his Padawan made yet another futile attempt to lift an apple from the table standing between the two of them. “You’re distracted. Close your eyes, don’t see – feel.”
Huffing a bit in frustration, the young man obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath as he did his best to clear his mind, concentrating on the apple.
“Reach out for it through the darkness – its shape, its weight, its position, let those be your guides – not hindrances. The Force permeates this fruit just as it does all things – all you have to do is gently tug at the strings...”
---
No – Den shook his head – it wasn’t about the pose it was all in the mind. Den tried to empty his head of all thoughts – of his master, of those giant feet, of everything that wasn’t important – as he stared directly at the metal orb and let the image consume him. The orb looked… different to how it was before. Gone was the polished shine of clean metal – instead it was foggy and dirty, no doubt covered in his giant Kel Dor’s sweat—
“FOCUS.” Den screamed internally. Reaching a hand out, the tiny Jedi-in-training pictured that dirty orb and imagined it moving towards him, rolling in his direction as if physics itself was bending to his will. Suddenly the orb wobbled and the Padawan’s eyes widened. It was subtle, but slowly the ball began to roll in his direction, freed from the playful grip of Master Plo’s foot. He had done it! He had actually commanded the force to—
The big toe of the foot came down squarely on top of the relic again, immediately stopping it in its tracks. Den’s focus faltered and he found himself falling over from the resulting motion. Mouth agape, he sat there helplessly, blinking in disbelief. With just a single toe, Master Plo had put a stop to his most successful application of the force yet. Showing no grace in victory, the toe clenched and continued to grind down on the orb, forcing it to roll around and soothe the looming Jedi’s foot further.
A miserable whine escaped Den as he couldn’t help but watch the scene before him. How the hell could he ever hope to contend with his master? Even while not aware of him, his mentor outclassed him in every possible way. Was he really doomed to remain a tiny speck scavenging the floor of his master’s room for the rest of his life?
“No!” He suddenly shouted, promptly picking himself up and staring his opponent down with a steely glare. He watched as Plo’s feet casually began rolling the ball back and forth – it was almost as if his master was taunting him. Not that there was any reason to assume Plo was even aware of Den’s presence, of course, but even so! The brash, youthful spirit that welled up within the Padawan simply could not let this insult stand!
When an indirect approach fails, there’s only one thing left to do! With a fierce battle cry Den ran forward, putting everything he had into this last ditch attempt to escape his situation. He’d run, leap and simply press his whole body into the button that would restore his true height – he’d just have to time it right, do it before his master has the chance to obliterate him with an idle motion. It was dumb, risky and the only play the Padawan had left!
A running start, gracefully transitioned into a leap as the metal ball appeared within reach. Den yelled as he soared through the air once more, his destination in sight – even the approach angle was right and then-!
Plo’s foot rolled a mere centimeter forward, ensuring that his little trainee smacked directly into the space between two gargantuan toes.
“Ugh…” Dan groaned, his mind once again addled by the majesty of his gigantic mentor. This, leathery skin, covered in tiny creases, the faint, yet still somehow overwhelming scent of well-worn leather and foot sweat. “Master…” he whimpered.
But Plo Koon wasted no time going right back to rolling his tiny marble back and forth under his sole. Leaving Den to scream in absolute horror as the little Padawan desperately clung to the fleshy surface. The foot would continue to shift, threatening to toss little Den off and flatten him any second. But the young Jedi-in-training refused to give up. Slowly, he found his balance and began climbing, scaling his titanic mentor’s skin to get to relative safety atop his foot. Wrinkle by wrinkle, grip by grip, he climbed upwards until suddenly, the foot raised a bit, just enough for Den to react. With a desperate roar, he gathered all the strength he could muster and pushed the spherical relic away with the Force and-
It obeyed, slowly, daintily rolling out from beneath Plo Koon’s sole mere moments before it came back down again, its massive weight settling flat on the ground instead.
A bit astonished by his own success, Den let out a frantic laugh. He was just about to hop away and try to reach the ball before Master Plo could, when suddenly the massive digits on either side squeezed together, slamming around the little Padawan and trapping him in a tight, painful embrace.A muffled whine escaped the little speck as he found himself in the dark, hidden from the world between the gorgeous toes of his master. “P-please…” he croaked weakly.
Suddenly, a relentless sense of vertigo overtook him, and Den was once again glad he had skipped lunch. The world seemed to lurch upward, dragging the puny speck along with it. Gravity shifted, rotating 180 degrees before the toes parted a bit, blinding the shrunken human momentarily as the distinct outline of his master came into view.
Sat with one leg over the other, Plo delicately rolled the tiny metal ball between two fingertips for a moment. Allowing himself a chuckle he shifted, leaning forward and casting his tiny guest in shadow. The head of his mentor hung over Den, goggles deformed ever so slightly by a shamelessly amused expression.
”Good afternoon to you, my little Padawan~”
JordilianVector featuring none other than Plo Koon from the Star Wars franchise! JV is absolutely besotted with this Kel Dor and honestly after sitting down and watching some of the content with Plo in it I can't blame him. This is a two parter so make sure to read the second part and please give the submissions on JV's profile some love too!A fairly long story, featuring Plo's hypothetical Padawan who is about as obsessed with the man as we are, shrinking himself to explore his master's room in his absence. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, Plo returns to his room early, none the wiser to the little intruder lost on the floor~
Check out Part 2 here!
___
Devious Ploy (Part 1)
“Alright…” Den sighed as he spoke to himself, a nervous habit he hadn’t entirely managed to let go yet. “Everything is in place.” Looking around his master’s room, the young Padawan couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the thought of what he was about to do.
Earlier that day his mentor – Plo Koon – had been urgently called to another system to assist Republic Forces in some ongoing campaign. And while Den had been eager to come along, Plo had insisted that the young Padawan just wasn’t ready for true battle experience.
“Soon, young Den,” Plo had assured, giving Den’s shoulder a firm, comforting grip, “that much I promise you. But all things have a proper order.”
“Yes, master.” As frustrating as it was, Den wasn’t going to disappoint the man who had save his life. He owed everything he had to Master Plo, the steady growth of his powers, his training and reflexes, even his life… He had been nothing more than a starving, nameless nobody when Plo had found him and offered him a chance to become a Jedi knight – how could he disobey?
Still, Master Plo’s sudden departure left Den with a lot of time, and the perfect opportunity to enact a plan, oh so long in the making.
Between the tips of his fingers he now held a tiny metal ball, one that he had managed to sneak out of the Temple Vault – an artifact that Master Plo had explained to him once.
---
“Now this…” Plo had spoken up as he lead Den towards a small pedestal in the center of a huge open room. “This may not look like much, but this is a powerful relic indeed. While its activation properties make it somewhat difficult to truly weaponize, the ability to reduce in size – whether yourself or your opponent – is no trifling matter.“ Plo threw a quick glance over his shoulder, to gauge his Padawan’s reaction. “Even the smallest things can bring about your doom, if you let them, my Padawan. Take care to remember that.”
---
Carefully, Den set the ball down, making sure to balance it on the intersection between floor tiles so it wouldn’t just roll away. Ensuring that the little thing sat steady, he exhaled. “Forgive me, master.” He muttered under his breath, feeling his stomach lurch a bit in excitement. “But I’d go crazy if I didn’t at least try…” He crouched and reached two fingers down towards the puny metal sphere before pausing, shaking his head and sharply standing up. “Door?” he mouthed, heading over to the access panel to make sure it was locked. “Check. Outdoor gear?” He glanced at himself. “Check. A way to reverse the effect in an easily accessible spot?” He glanced down at the device in the middle of the room and nodded. “Check! Alright…” He exhaled again, deeper this time. “Here goes nothing!” And with a gentle press, his index finger sunk the tiny button into the relic as the world around him was consumed by a brilliant light blue flash.
A dull throb echoed through the Padawan’s head. He groaned and hissed as he pressed his hands against the floor and shakily pushed himself up. “Force… did they really have to make the process so nauseating?” He was glad now that the excitement of his upcoming scheme had left him skipping his midday meal.
As Den blinked, the world around him slowly came into clearer view. What he saw, immediately had his eyes widening – sure enough, he had shrunk. Taking a few steps back, the Padawan flinched as he fell right back onto a smooth, surprisingly lukewarm surface of a floor tile. With a gasp the young man threw a glance over his shoulder only to spot a familiar metal ball. Well, familiar except for its now massive size.
“That’s the relic…” he observed with a nervous gulp. It was a sobering reminder of just how small he had become – the ball that had fit neatly between his fingers was now at least three times his size. The warmth he felt in the floor actually seemed to be coming from the spherical device – likely the lingering heat from his own fingertips. Looking around again, Den tried to orient himself in this new world. It was one thing to survey his target destinations from above, but now that his point of view was so much closer to the ground, even just navigating his master’s room had become a bit of an issue.
A part of Den expected to find an all new layer of clutter at this scale: tiny pebbles, bits of dust and detritus – things left invisible to a normal person, but Master Plo seemed surprisingly thorough about keeping things orderly. Nearly sterile floors, not a single thing out of place… Normally this sort of thing would only further Den’s respect for his mentor, but given the purpose of his little journey, locating a suitable place to explore was somewhat frustrating. Or would have been, had Plo Koon not left a spare set of boots before heading out.
There, under the gigantic structure he vaguely recognized as a bed the Padawan finally spotted his goal - his absent master’s enormous boots. They were simple items of attire – his master, like most Jedi, held firm beliefs in regards to unnecessary possessions after all. Yet those simple boots that most would be quick to dismiss as basic, everyday gear, took on a whole new meaning in the eyes of the tiny man. His eyes widened more, scanning every inch of the distant leathery surface.
Small cracks, lines of wear and tear, the beginnings of dirt and dust gathering – things that one could never spot at a normal size were revealed to him. He could spend a full day exploring the vast expanse of these monoliths – a thought that left him shivering and imagining if those very boots were being worn right now… how much would Master Plo tower over him?
Images of the gigantic Kel Dor looming above, no doubt able to level entire battlefields with just a few steps flashed through his mind. Of course, Plo would never do such a thing – no, Den could imagine in fact the exact opposite occurring with the Jedi Master using his immense size to separate and lecture foes. The thought of having that disapproving voice rumbling through his bones really should not have been as exciting to Den as it was – and he mentally slapped himself to regain focus.
His… fantasies could wait. The boots were a good distance away and right now Den wanted nothing more than to get very up-close and personal with them. Taking a breath, he dashed forward.
With no desire to waste any more time, the young Padawan ran as fast as he could without winding himself, constantly keeping his gaze on the prize ahead. Yet as two minutes passed, the massive boots on the horizon simply refused to grow any closer. Another two and Den reached some sort of… ditch? It was a massive canal – a straight black line running deep through the landscape. It confused him for a moment, but his mind adjusted quickly – he had simply reached the end of a floor tile!
With a huff, he thought back to his training with Master Plo...
---
Landing painfully on his behind he looked up, watching his Kel Dor mentor already standing over him with an outstretched hand. “I don’t get it, master!”
“Patience, young Den. A Jedi’s power comes from patience as much as effort.” Plo nodded, his hand grasping Den’s and pulling the young man up.
“But I’ve been trying my best for so long now!”
“Hmmm…” Hand resting over his mask, Plo regarded his protégé with a thoughtful glance. “Sometimes all it takes one more time. Focus not on the attempt, but on the result. Visualize it, see yourself soaring to your destination, close your eyes if it helps you. And then… simply do it.” He lay his hands on Den’s shoulders. “I have faith in you, young Den.”
“Alright.” He nodded. “Alright, I can do it!”
As his master took a few steps back, Den closed his eyes, imagining himself leaping into the air with ease. He crouched down a bit, bending his knees and feeling the weight in his legs.
---
And the next second, Den flew! Soaring high overhead and easily clearing the gap before transitioning into a practiced, if still somewhat awkward roll.
“Ha-hah!” He exclaimed, triumphantly pumping his fist in the air as he looked back over the obstacle. Suddenly his celebration felt a little silly. He sighed, for a second he had almost forgotten he was jumping over a groove between floor tiles.
Still… His destination hadn’t changed, and if nothing else, this should at least count as training, right? Maybe when Master Plo came back, he’d have something to show for all this at least.
…
It took him a good fifteen minutes of running and leaping over tiny gaps in the floor, but finally Den had made it. Slightly winded after all, he stepped into the shadow of the looming bed and approached the objects of his desire.
Towering far over him – looming so tall, he had to crane his neck just to see the top of them – the boots stood before him in all their glory. Every stain, every cut, every bend, and every crease… all filled with a vast history of being worn by his mentor. Den couldn’t help but shudder, thinking back to the man himself again for a moment. “Master Plo…” He mouthed quietly as he ran his hand along the surface. He wasn’t even tall enough to reach past the sole – it stood like a platform above him, separating him from the gentle curve that housed the toe of his master’s foot.
It was an intoxicating feeling, yet as much as he was eager to continue his climb upwards, to see the top of the boot, to see from the top of it too, and to breathe in the residual scent of his master’s feet, no doubt engulfing the entire inside of the structure… As much as those all called out to him, he simply couldn’t bring himself to rush on forward, instead taking a step closer, pressing his entire body against the wall of leather in front of him, brushing his cheek against it and exhaling softly…
Of all the people in this galaxy… Nobody could make him feel as at peace as Master Plo had…
That comforting thought removed Den of his last inhibitions as he groaned, buying his face deeper into the leather. He mapped out every section of it that he could, memorizing the texture with his skin. The section of this leather was rather worn – to be expected of the front part of Master Plo’s boot – and briefly the tiny Padawan wondered just how much these trusty boots had seen, what kind of actions they had experienced.
He wasn’t jealous of his master’s boots… not in the slightest. A part of him did… wish to be this permanently up close to the Kel Dor’s feet… to be both figuratively and literally underneath them as Plo trudged through unsteady land, dutifully supporting the titan’s feet…
Maybe he was ever so slightly jealous.
Blushing, he drew back bashfully before looking up. As fun as it was, he still had a destination in mind. That was when the next problem presented itself – with how tidy his master was, there appeared to be no easy way up. Frowning, tiny Den walked around the edge of the boot as he searched for some way to proceed – perhaps some loose stitching or a small hole he could sneak his way through, but nothing presented itself. It appeared there would be no shortcuts here – the only way up was directly up which would no doubt be a tough journey. Well, on the plus side if word somehow did get back to Master Plo about his little expedition he could try to justify it as some intense training…
Den tried to comfort himself with that as he scrambled up the bottom of his master’s boot. The hardened leather making up the outsole was his first obstacle; the Kel Dor had seemingly polished the exterior recently and the slick surface had the shrunken Padawan slipping and falling. At least he was still close to the ground – such falls further up could actually do real damage. It took a few tries but eventually he pushed through - letting out a yelp as once more he focused and jumped unnaturally high into the air, allowing him to cling to the softer leather above. He was still a little unsteady but his aptitude for force-empowered athletics was growing!
Letting out a few excited cries, Den continued to half-climb, half-bounce up the boot as he used frayed sections of leather as makeshift handgrips. He was only halfway up but he could sense the first hints of the overpowering aroma floating its way out of the steaming interior of the boot. The faint smell only further empowered him, flashing fantasies through his head of spending days marinating in that musk, letting his master’s pure and potent smell coat every part of him.
So caught up was little Den in his fantasies that he took no heed to the distant rumblings that could easily be dismissed. It wasn’t until it was too late that he finally paused at the odd sound.
bang… bang… bang… BANG…
Far away, a good half hour of walking was the entryway that Den had snuck in through what seemed like ages ago. The closed door parted like an ancient, mythical gate – something so huge coming into motion so easily, as if pushed by a deity. Indeed, that was not a bad analogy, for the parting doorway revealed none other than the subject of the tiny Padawan’s immense devotion – Plo Koon.
“Master you shouldn’t be here…!” Den’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he bit his lip – it was a truly, truly amazing sight that defied his earlier fantasies. The towering Kel Dor could step on him and remove him from existence without even realizing it. It was also that exact thought that had him worried – this just became incredibly dangerous and if his master did find him then he would be in no small amount of trouble for such a foolish, dangerous move. What was the titan even doing here? Maybe he was just grabbing something he forgot and would be leaving shortly…?
”Indeed…” Den gasped at how loud and booming the voice was – practically vibrating his bones as it shook his core. Master Plo was speaking into his wrist at the familiar blue light of a hologram. ”A timely arrival from General Secura has rendered my support rather unneeded… oh quite the opposite! Commander Wolffe was rather looking forward to ah, ‘show the shinies how it’s done…’” An immense rumbling erupted from above that had Den cringing before he realized it was his master’s laughter – and despite how it sent his body into a flurry a part of him couldn’t help but smile at it even now.
Then the titan took a step forward and Den’s smile immediately faded. The boot slammed down sending a tremor through the earth, almost sending Den flying off his perch if not for a timely scramble. However more worrying was the small orb in the distance slowly spinning from the force. It didn’t take a genius to work out that the direction of his master’s pace was set to unceremoniously pave over the tiny relic’s position.
“Wait – no… no! Master Plo!” Den yelped as he glanced down. A drop at this height would be too much for his limited force powers to cushion. Cringing, he started a panicked climb down, slipping and sliding off frayed leather as he kept throwing glances back at the approaching titan. “Come on… come on… come on!” The shrunken Padawan muttered in a mantra as he nearly lost his grip. He was only halfway down, and his master was…
Looking down, his body froze. Another slam of the boot sending an even stronger tremor as the other boot raised into the sky casting a shadow… directly over his tiny relic. A cry of panic escaped Den as images played through his head of that boot stomping down, reducing the powerful relic to scrap as his kind, gentle master would frown at the minute noise, raising his boot up and pausing at the shards left behind, dismissing it as some mere trinket and pulling out a dustpan and broom to sweep away any hope Den ever had of growing back. Suddenly all those fantasies about living under his master’s feet for eternity felt a little too real.
With no care for his plight, the boot hovered in the air for a second before lowering directly down, shadow descending squarely onto the relic. Den didn’t know what happened next – he reached a hand out and shouted and the small orb rolled gently towards him, avoiding the brunt of the impact, causing the tip of the boot to instead scrape just at the back of it, flinging it right towards the scared Padawan with a horrifying clattering cacophony. Any relief or joy would have had to wait as the sudden velocity of a surprisingly weighty object that struck the boot finally proved too much for Den’s grip. His hands faltered and he screamed, entering freefall.
Air rushed around him and all Den could think about was how this would affect Plo. How would the kindly Kel Dor react to his Padawan going missing? It would hurt and upset him and that thought most of all sent a pang of grief through to Den as he screwed his eyes shut and braced for impact…
bang
“Oof!”
It was none too gentle a landing as Den gasped at the pain flooding his back. Thankfully it mostly knocked the air out of him, getting a few shaky breaths as the tiny Padawan stumbled up. The only damage would be light bruising. Any attempts at dusting himself off were interrupted by those massive approaching boots in front of him stepping closer as panic flooded him. The discarded boots were just behind him but a few meters in front was the small metal orb that did this to him in the first place. Should he hide and maybe wait for Master Plo to leave or try growing himself back now and explaining himself?
The choice had him nervously looking between his options and a groan escaped Den. He knew the right call was to grow back but he also didn’t fancy a lecture from Master Plo and even worse that slightly disappointed look he knew he’d be getting. Maybe hiding was a better option?
Once again the choice was removed from him. Plo stepped forward again and rather that continuing forward, it came to a sudden stop. Before Den could figure out the reason, the boots turned sideways and the imposing form of the gigantic Kel Dor made an appearance as Plo crouched down. That head with its always serene looking expression took up the vast majority of his view and Den flinched, just barely avoiding the urge to stumble back onto his ass.
The goggled eyes seemed to be staring right at him and Den’s mouth had never felt drier. “Um… Master Plo! I can… I can explain this! You see I was… doing some personal training in extreme conditions…? Using—”
That familiar, booming sensation of his master’s chuckle struck him immediately drowning out the hesitant Padawan.
”Ah, what’s this? Hmm… The younglings really ought to be taking better care of their toys.”
Confusion etched itself onto Den’s face as the deafening statement tried to make sense in his head. Before it could, sudden movement made itself known and the minuscule human’s face paled at the truly imposing sight before him. A Kel Dor’s hand – four sharply clawed fingers, the second one adorned with a familiar ceremonial accessory – approached right towards him. Den was strangely familiar with his master’s hands – it was another part of his mentor’s body he had an odd fascination with. On more than one occasion he had examined the fingers under the guise of checking out the old-fashioned force focus as Plo chuckled and encouraged him, explaining its function as Den tried not to blush at the fingers resting over his, twitching and flexing, all while he tried to resist the urge to hold them up to his face to get a better look.
Now it seemed Plo was intent on giving him that up-close look. Except despite the inherent horniness of the situation the small animal part of his brain balked and sent him into a sprint as he tried to flee, crying out as sharp claws easily outpaced him. There was nothing he could do as one finger knocked him onto his ass before continuing further along and all he could do was flip around to try and spot a direction out of this only to see that giant palm lower right onto him.
“Master Plo – Master Pl—” A whine escaped him as a heavy weight settled. He could feel the warm, soft, yet hard texture of the hand gently crush him – the sensation was bizarre yet pleasant. To be so thoroughly pinned and restrained by just the simple force of a dormant hand? It was overwhelming. Den could barely squirm as he pushed against the hand himself and a part of him swore he could feel the hand twitching back.
For better or for worse the moment lasted for what was probably just seconds before the hand raised back up, a heavy inhale from Den marking that moment as air rushed back in. He could see the giant palm ascend once more, relic in tow, as the lingering heat from Plo’s hand left his body flushed. That was… nice. Weird! But nice…
However, the sight of the hand retreating back with his relic firmly in its grip was less nice. Especially as his sprawled body watched Plo bring the orb right before his face as Den cringed and waited for his master to immediately realize what was going on.
”A marble? No matter, I will return it later. I suppose I should keep it safe for now though…”
“What? That isn’t… it isn’t a marble!” the Padawan instinctively shouted in response. “I mean I suppose without the pre-knowledge of what it is that an easy mistake but surely you recognize it, master!”
A thought hit Den then – just how many relics had Plo come across over the years? He knew the Jedi vaults were full of them – with Plo’s centuries of history with the Jedi, was it possible that the Kel Dor had forgotten about the small orb relic they had come across a few months back?
“Master Plo – you can’t… that’s my only way of growing back!” Den stumbled forward as he watched Plo casually lower the relic, right over one of his robe pockets before letting go, watching the small orb roll inside. What had he gotten himself into!?
…thoom… …thoom! …THOOM!!!Den spent the next few minutes panicking and trying formulating a plan, while his master paced back and forth along the room, approaching one end, then another. It was hard to tell what the looming titan was doing from Den’s vantage point under the bed, but the slow, methodical rhythm of his mentor’s footsteps felt almost… soothing?
He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head at the thought, at how much of a disappointment he was. Giving in to such basic urges and ending up like this? Sure, he had tried to be careful, he taken precautions, but…
A deep sigh escaped him, followed a sudden jolt of his entire body was tossed in the air from Plo Koon’s boot slamming down beside him. The oblivious Jedi master merely passed by – a single powerful footfall, no different from countless others the giant had taken that day…
---
“One of the many things you have to hone your senses to recognize, young Den, is the difference between bravery and foolishness.”
Sitting across a chessboard from Den was his mentor, engaging the young Padawan in a deceptively intricate game of tactics.
“There is a key difference between admitting defeat and giving up.”
“But don’t I lose either way?” Den cocked an eyebrow at his opponent, not at all thrilled with the current state of the board. “What’s the point of fighting if I know I cannot win?” He looked up at his master, silently demanding an answer.
The Kel Dor’s deep, pleasant chuckle filled the room. “In a mere game of chess, yes. But when you stand to lose it all on the field of battle, would you not rather fight to the end, knowing you have done all you can to defend what matters most to you?”
---
Den shook his head, taking a deep breath in and out before picking himself up from his rather unsightly position on the ground. “C’mon, Den!” He urged himself, giving his cheeks a couple of claps. “Master Plo taught you better than this!”
By the time his mentor’s terrifying footfalls finally ceased, Den’s thoughts were a little clearer. Instead of panicking or succumbing to despair, he was looking around for an opening. And it seemed fate was kind to him today – a data pad in his hands, the Jedi Knight sat in an armchair nearby. He still had a chance! If his mentor was settling down to read, then he may just be able to get inside the pocket and activate the relic again before Master Plo left! It hadn’t hit him until just then but, whatever earful he would get paled in comparison to the fate of a speck… trapped in the Jedi’s room… forced to live in constant fear of the mighty footfalls of the man who-
Den clapped his cheeks again, hard. “Focus, damn you!” Shaking his head again, he dashed forth, leaping over a nearby gap in the floor without even thinking this time. His master was a good distance away, but he’d made it halfway across this vast chamber in less than 20 minutes, he could do this!
But with a living, breathing, moving being looming on the horizon, the stakes of his journey felt a lot more dramatic. It was one thing to run towards an inanimate object, merely dwarfing you in size, and completely another to be approaching a sentient creature of such unimaginable power. One loose shift of Plo Koon’s body and the little Padawan would be a distant memory – nothing but a fading stain somewhere on his master’s form.
Den bit his lip and took another deep breath. There was no stopping these thoughts, was there?
And, as if privy to all the things lurking within his Padawan’s mind, Master Plo began to move again. His data pad set off to the side, the Kel Dor bent forward, reaching both hands towards his boots, and slowly, ever-so-slowly slipping them off, one at a time.
Den couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight, nearly tripping and falling into the next ditch between the tiles, as those fleshy monoliths rose into the air. There, like floating continents they soared, before landing on the ground with a deep, resonant smack. His master’s feet were an incredibly rare and desirable sight, and now Den was forced to witness every detail from this new angle – every shift of skin, every bend and crease… as those massive digits wiggled before him.
The little Padawan was beet red, staring up into the sky and panting as he tried desperately to calm his racing heartbeat. “By the Force… I have… I have truly been blessed.” He muttered with a gulp, basking in the privilege he was so generously granted by the whims of fate.
Two more claps on either cheek, and the young man got himself up. “This is a test!” he decided. “If I can’t stay focused long enough to grow back, then I don’t deserve to!” Gathering what was left of his rapidly fading willpower, the future Jedi jumped to his feet and paced on, racing towards the giant’s feet to begin his grueling, borderline hopeless attempt to ascend.
The smell much like the one that still clung faintly to the pair of boots back under the bed, washed over Den like a sandstorm, covering the sky and obscuring his perspective. The rich, powerful scent was as overwhelming as it was intoxicating, but Den refused to give in now! With a loud battlecry, he focused on his legs and pushed himself off the ground into yet another force-empowered leap – soon clinging to one of his master’s toes like a particularly stubborn flea, slowly, agonizingly slowly making his way up.
The firm, leathery texture, the scent, the subtle motions that threatened to erase the tiny Padawan from existence – or, at the very least, any progress he had made – little Den had to ignore it all as his singular desire to reach the relic and bring himself back to normal crystalized into an unparalleled feeling of determination. This was it! He could do it! It was a long way up but-!
*CRRRRRAAAAAASH!!!*
“H-huh?” The little Padawan’s jaw hung lose as he saw the very object of his desire casually rolling along the floor a few dozen meters behind him. He threw a confused glance up and just about managed to catch a glimpse of Master Plo’s palm before it lowered back towards the armrest.
And then, before the little thing could react in any way, the foot lurched forward, sending the speck-sized man flying.
Had it not been for his training, he would have flopped on the ground once again, but as it were, he just barely landed on his feet, skidding along the ground and once again falling into the gap between the tiles.
”Hmmm…” His enormous teacher hummed, his foot set firmly on the cool metal ball, holding it down with ease.
Den’s landing within the large ravine making up the tile gap was rough, but softened by a strange, slightly sticky material. Master Plo took great care to keep his room tidy – it was something Den had noted with awe several times throughout this little adventure already – but even that had limits. The minuscule space between the tiles that would be unreachable at normal sizes harbored all manner of dirt and debris. The exact composition of it was impossible to tell, but if the Kel Dor’s affinity for pacing around was any indication, then the tiny Padawan might have become trapped amongst the bits of boot grime that had fallen down here.
That… really shouldn’t have been eliciting the reaction from him that it was.
Thankfully before he could further embarrass himself, he was immediately kicked out of his introspection by the continuing calamity that was Master Plo’s feet moving. The ground continued to quake, and Den found himself glad to be concealed down here, away from the prowling appendage. However, as he glanced up, any relief at being deep inside a gap in the floor was shot away when he caught sight of a very familiar metal orb. It slowly rolled above him as that huge, leathery sole lowered directly onto it.
“Wait! Master Plo— no!” Den was helpless as he watched from far down as the literal hundreds of tons of flesh settled down onto it before slowly grinding back and forth. The shrunken man hadn’t done any kind of boundary testing on the relic – for all he knew it could be crushed any second! Scrambling upwards, Den made to start desperately scaling the cliff-face that was the edge of the tile when a darkness settled over him. Far above, Plo’s foot rolled forward and that worn, supple flesh crashed down directly over the tile gap.
Darkness covered most of the world except for the few beams of light escaping at the far ends where the Kel Dor foot did not stretch out to. The dim light it provided gave Den a view of the twitching sky above as his master continued to exert his foot upon the relic. The young man could hear the sound of the smooth metal being carelessly rolled about, it seeped faintly through the much louder booming of Plo’s feet casually scraping against the floor tiles.
He should be moving – Den thought – he should be shouting and doing everything he can to get out of here. But his legs wobbled, all he could manage was drop to the ground in both fear and awe. A light, yet ever-present aroma filled the air and the Padawan couldn’t stop a shiver racing through his body.
What broke him out of his stupor was a sudden splash of liquid drenching him. With a cry, Den rolled over and spotted the culprit – beads of sweat far above dripping down from the foot – which meant he was covered in…
“F-focus!” Den steeled himself and stumbled along to the left until he could see light directly above him again. Placing a hand against the tile wall, he once again took a breath to steady himself. He had done this earlier – he could do it again! Ignoring the uncomfortable damp clothing hanging off his body, the Padawan took a short inhale before slamming his hand against the vertical edge and pushing himself up. A short leap later and he quickly established a rhythm, jumping up the side of the tile higher and higher until finally—
“Yes!” The tiny man pulled his body up one last time as he flipped himself back on top of the tiles once more. He took a moment to take pride in his quickly developing mastery of this force technique before looking back up at the very titan he knew had been trying to teach it to him for the past few months.
“I’ll fix this Master Plo… I promise!” Naturally, the Kel Dor gave no response, apart from continuing to grind down on the relic. Thankfully, it didn’t seem too fragile at least, it would have, no doubt, turned to dust by now otherwise. But there was no telling how much longer it would last – Den needed to be quick. Rushing around the foot, the tiny Padawan stared directly in front of him as he lined himself up with the target. He… didn’t have many options here. Maybe his master would notice him more easily now?
He spent a minute shouting his master’s name and jumping about, waving his arms, anything he could think of… Only to slump as Plo’s familiar, kind face continued to stare at in the data pad in his hands, completely engrossed. Whatever it was – a mission report or a shipping manifest – was likely important, after all, no Jedi Knight – let alone Plo Koon – was supposed to waste time on idle curiosities. So what chance did a tiny speck like Den have at breaking the giant’s focus? No, he would have to take action and rescue himself.
Den took a step forth, ready to rush forward to try and wrestle the relic away from the feet, when a timely flex of the Master Plo’s toes made him pause and reconsider. He… probably wouldn’t survive a direct attack on his master’s appendages. Still he couldn’t very well give up before he tried! Suddenly, his latest chess match against his mentor came to mind again – sometimes an indirect approach was much more effective. Rather than physically retrieving it, perhaps he could reach out with the force instead? Sure, the damn relic towered over him now, but he could have sworn he managed to make it budge earlier, perhaps he could duplicate the feat? He had seen Plo lift entire ships before in extremely dire situations, surely he could manage at least this much – he had to!
Clenching his fists, the shrunken Padawan tried to mimic the pose he had seen his mentor assume when lifting stuff. It was a bit of an awkward replica, complicated further due to the fact that the Kel Dor possessed one less finger than him – how would this even work!?
---
”You are too focused on the physical realm, Den.” Plo’s soft tone echoed around the spacious training arena as his Padawan made yet another futile attempt to lift an apple from the table standing between the two of them. “You’re distracted. Close your eyes, don’t see – feel.”
Huffing a bit in frustration, the young man obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath as he did his best to clear his mind, concentrating on the apple.
“Reach out for it through the darkness – its shape, its weight, its position, let those be your guides – not hindrances. The Force permeates this fruit just as it does all things – all you have to do is gently tug at the strings...”
---
No – Den shook his head – it wasn’t about the pose it was all in the mind. Den tried to empty his head of all thoughts – of his master, of those giant feet, of everything that wasn’t important – as he stared directly at the metal orb and let the image consume him. The orb looked… different to how it was before. Gone was the polished shine of clean metal – instead it was foggy and dirty, no doubt covered in his giant Kel Dor’s sweat—
“FOCUS.” Den screamed internally. Reaching a hand out, the tiny Jedi-in-training pictured that dirty orb and imagined it moving towards him, rolling in his direction as if physics itself was bending to his will. Suddenly the orb wobbled and the Padawan’s eyes widened. It was subtle, but slowly the ball began to roll in his direction, freed from the playful grip of Master Plo’s foot. He had done it! He had actually commanded the force to—
Thoom…The big toe of the foot came down squarely on top of the relic again, immediately stopping it in its tracks. Den’s focus faltered and he found himself falling over from the resulting motion. Mouth agape, he sat there helplessly, blinking in disbelief. With just a single toe, Master Plo had put a stop to his most successful application of the force yet. Showing no grace in victory, the toe clenched and continued to grind down on the orb, forcing it to roll around and soothe the looming Jedi’s foot further.
A miserable whine escaped Den as he couldn’t help but watch the scene before him. How the hell could he ever hope to contend with his master? Even while not aware of him, his mentor outclassed him in every possible way. Was he really doomed to remain a tiny speck scavenging the floor of his master’s room for the rest of his life?
“No!” He suddenly shouted, promptly picking himself up and staring his opponent down with a steely glare. He watched as Plo’s feet casually began rolling the ball back and forth – it was almost as if his master was taunting him. Not that there was any reason to assume Plo was even aware of Den’s presence, of course, but even so! The brash, youthful spirit that welled up within the Padawan simply could not let this insult stand!
When an indirect approach fails, there’s only one thing left to do! With a fierce battle cry Den ran forward, putting everything he had into this last ditch attempt to escape his situation. He’d run, leap and simply press his whole body into the button that would restore his true height – he’d just have to time it right, do it before his master has the chance to obliterate him with an idle motion. It was dumb, risky and the only play the Padawan had left!
A running start, gracefully transitioned into a leap as the metal ball appeared within reach. Den yelled as he soared through the air once more, his destination in sight – even the approach angle was right and then-!
Plo’s foot rolled a mere centimeter forward, ensuring that his little trainee smacked directly into the space between two gargantuan toes.
“Ugh…” Dan groaned, his mind once again addled by the majesty of his gigantic mentor. This, leathery skin, covered in tiny creases, the faint, yet still somehow overwhelming scent of well-worn leather and foot sweat. “Master…” he whimpered.
But Plo Koon wasted no time going right back to rolling his tiny marble back and forth under his sole. Leaving Den to scream in absolute horror as the little Padawan desperately clung to the fleshy surface. The foot would continue to shift, threatening to toss little Den off and flatten him any second. But the young Jedi-in-training refused to give up. Slowly, he found his balance and began climbing, scaling his titanic mentor’s skin to get to relative safety atop his foot. Wrinkle by wrinkle, grip by grip, he climbed upwards until suddenly, the foot raised a bit, just enough for Den to react. With a desperate roar, he gathered all the strength he could muster and pushed the spherical relic away with the Force and-
It obeyed, slowly, daintily rolling out from beneath Plo Koon’s sole mere moments before it came back down again, its massive weight settling flat on the ground instead.
A bit astonished by his own success, Den let out a frantic laugh. He was just about to hop away and try to reach the ball before Master Plo could, when suddenly the massive digits on either side squeezed together, slamming around the little Padawan and trapping him in a tight, painful embrace.A muffled whine escaped the little speck as he found himself in the dark, hidden from the world between the gorgeous toes of his master. “P-please…” he croaked weakly.
Suddenly, a relentless sense of vertigo overtook him, and Den was once again glad he had skipped lunch. The world seemed to lurch upward, dragging the puny speck along with it. Gravity shifted, rotating 180 degrees before the toes parted a bit, blinding the shrunken human momentarily as the distinct outline of his master came into view.
Sat with one leg over the other, Plo delicately rolled the tiny metal ball between two fingertips for a moment. Allowing himself a chuckle he shifted, leaning forward and casting his tiny guest in shadow. The head of his mentor hung over Den, goggles deformed ever so slightly by a shamelessly amused expression.
”Good afternoon to you, my little Padawan~”
To be continued…
Category Story / Macro / Micro
Species Alien (Other)
Gender Male
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 51.7 kB
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