Warning: Contains Mature Content of the Lemon Variety. The section is labeled so those who want to can skip ahead. You have been warned.

Lieutenant Dren Antilles looked around at the beautiful interior of the star liner Esseles as he entered through the boarding hatch. He was about to just walk towards where his quarters were when his executive officer Sergeant Aric Jorgan grabbed his arm. The Cathar, a male who was frowning perpetually, said, "Excuse me, Sir but their not going to just allow us to bring our weapons on board. We have to check them in over there."

Dren frowned and looked in the direction his squad mate was pointing. Shrugging, he headed to the back of the line. He was a big man and not terrible looking – muscular and dark haired with glinting green eyes. He also had a collection of scars that always fascinated the people he met. As he strode up to her, the young space marine in charge of checking in weapons, gave him a non-so subtle once over. Dren smiled roguishly at her and said, "Afternoon, Corporal. I don't suppose I can sweet talk you into letting a couple of Army boys fresh from Ord Mantell keep their hold-out blasters, can I?"

The corporal smiled and said, "I'm afraid not, Lieutenant. We have to take weapons from everyone – whether they're military or civilian unless they're on duty of course. Are you on duty, Lieutenant?"

Dren sighed in mock sadness and said, "No I'm not, corporal. Let me set this baby down and then I'll sign the paperwork."

The corporal smiled just a little seductively and said, "Well maybe we can talk blasters when I get off duty tonight, Lieutenant. You look way to good in that uniform to completely disappoint, you know."

Dren smiled and said, "Well thank you, Corporal. I may just take you up on that, Corporal."

The corporal scanned the bag and her datapad generated a hand receipt which she and Dren signed. Jorgan followed his example and they turned to head towards their cabins when Dren saw something out of the corner of his eyes – or rather, saw someone. A beautiful human female was standing in line to turn in weapons. She had dark brown hair and hazel eyes. On top of that, she wore dark green synth leather pants, a black leather jacket and black boots. Under the jacket she wore an off-white button down blouse that she had left tied about eight inches above her blaster belt, leaving a band of toned bare skin for everyone to see. Jorgan growled, "Sir, keep your head on straight and come on. Let's get changed out of these uniforms. I'm beginning to itch."

It was a little late for that though; the woman had noticed Dren staring and gave a knowing smile and a sultry wink before motioning him over. The lieutenant smiled and said, "I'll catch up with you later, Jorgan. Don't wait for me."

Despite another round of protests from Jorgan, Dren marched boldly on up and asked, "Is there something I can do for you, Miss?"

He hadn't noticed the tall, muscular man behind her until that moment and he only noticed him because of his odd hairstyle and the glare he kept shooting at Dren. The woman's smile grew and she said, "Oh stars, I sure hope so. You make that uniform look incredible, Soldier Boy. What's your name?"

Dren took her proffered hand and said, "Lieutenant Dren Antilles, Republic Army, and who might you be?"

"Captain Moira Denic. I'm a, uh, private cargo hauler who is looking for her ship. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant. This is my friend, Corso Riggs."

Dren and Corso sized each other up. Dren was a little shorter but broader. When they shook hands, Moira had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing as they both smiled tightly and had one of those ridiculous masculine hand crushing matches. Without even the hint of strain, Dren said, "A pleasure to meet you, Mister Riggs."

The man smiled back and said evenly, "Pleasure's all mine, Lieutenant. Thank ya for yer service. It must be tough."

After a moment, Captain Denic cleared her throat and the two men let go of each other's hands. They were nearly to the front of the line and Moira pulled out a pair of older but expertly maintained blaster pistols. Riggs pulled a blaster rifle and blaster pistol out. Denic winked suggestively at Dren. "I'll be seeing you later, Soldier Boy. You have to tell me about those scars of yours."

Dren smiled and said, "Oh that would be my pleasure."

As the tall soldier walked away, Captain Moira Denic watched him, admiring his assets through the perfect tailoring of his Army dress gray uniform. Turning forward, she found herself facing a frowning space marine. "Are those two blasters your only weapons, ma'am?"

Moira smiled and said, "Nope, hold on."

She pulled a small but powerful hold-out blaster from one of her boots and then, after the corporal had scanned her weapons, she went in and set the weapons down. Corso Riggs came in behind her and said, "I don't think that corporal likes you too much, Cap'n."

Moira's eyes widened. "Why not? I just met her!"

Corso shrugged as he set his blaster rifle, blaster pistol, harpoon launching gauntlet, over-sized vibro blade and hold-out blaster on the shelf next to Moira's weapons. They exited and signed the receipts on the datapad. That done, they headed towards their quarters.

As soon as he had entered, Dren found himself facing a glowering Sergeant Jorgan. "Permission to speak freely, Lieutenant?" asked the Cathar tightly. Dren sighed and shut the door. "Let a rip, Sergeant."

That seemed to take the wind out of Jorgan's sails. After a moment, he said, "Sir, even on this star liner, we represent the Galactic Republic's Army. With civilians and members of other branches, we have to be the epitome of professionalism. Flirting with a space marine and a civilian is definitely not that."

Dren nodded and, as soon as Jorgan had finished speaking, began to change into civilian attire – wearing denim pants, a short sleeved shirt with the Republic Army insignia on it and a gray and blue flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up passed his elbows. He remained in his boots, though he took the armored outer shell off of them. Jorgan shook his head, exasperated, "Sir we are still on orders and the Republic issues us uniforms for situations like this."

Dren turned to Jorgan with a sigh and said, "Jorgan, this is the closest thing to a vacation we are ever going to get for who knows how long. I intend to enjoy it to the fullest, alright? You can represent the Army in whatever way you see fit. All I ask is that you let me relax and have a good time. Don't worry! I'm not going to shoot up the café or anything. I can't, even if I wanted to, they took all my blasters – remember?"

Jorgan nodded and was about to protest when Dren put his foot down. "Sergeant Jorgan, I am ordering you to pull that stick out of your fuzzy ass and relax or at the very least, let me relax. Understood?"

To his surprise, Jorgan sighed and even smiled slightly in resignation. "Yes sir, under protest, sir."

Dren laughed. "Only you would protest an order to relax and have a good time. I'm heading to the café and getting some food. Have fun and don't do anything too crazy like gamble away all our money. We'll need it to refit and such on Coruscant and we special forces grunts don't get much."

Jorgan chuckled. "Oh I plan to increase our funding tonight, Lieutenant. Trust me, it's hard to read a Cathar's face and I have a mean sabacc face as it is."

Dren clapped him on the back and then headed out.

Moira had changed into a deep blue tunic with a rather plunging neck line and an un-scuffed pair of high healed boots. The tunic fell to just above her knees and the boots came about half way up her shapely calves, leaving about twelve centimeters of skin showing between them. When she stepped out into the hallway, Corso's already big eyes got bigger which made her chuckle. "Damn, Captain! You look like a million credits. Is there an occasion I don't know about?"

She sashayed up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. With a sultry purr, she asked, "Do I really need a reason, Corso?"

Corso gulped and tried to look down at himself only to look directly down his captain's plunging tunic and right at her shapely and full breasts. Blushing like a school boy and snapping his head back up fast enough to smack his dreadlock knot against the durasteel wall behind him, Corso said, "Not at all, Captain. I just feel a little underdressed, that's all."

Moira stepped back and looked at the farm boy. He wore a simple pair of denim cargo pants and a button down plaid shirt with a white shirt under it. To her, he looked fine – fine as hell, actually. "Come on, Corso. Let's get some grub and a drink or ten."

Corso laughed and followed her slow trot with long strides.

In the main dining area of the café, Dren set his plate and a mug of dark ale down before him. He couldn't remember ever having food like this. It was delicious and rich and he couldn't get enough of it. Suddenly, a familiar figure set a plate and glass in front of his. "Is this seat taken, Soldierboy?"

Dren looked up to see Captain Moira Denic and said, "You just took it, Captain. Have a seat. You're buddy can sit wherever he wants, too."

As she sat, Dren took the opportunity to give her a quick look-over. Damn!

Corso came up behind her with big tumbler of some kind of whisky, no ice and a plate of food. He plopped down at an angle to Moira, right next to Dren. "Thank you kindly, Lieutenant."

Dren chuckled and looked at Corso's drink. "Whatcha got there, Mr. Riggs?"

The big man waved a hand and said, "Mr. Riggs was my dad, Lieutenant. Call me Corso. I'm drinking Mantellian mash – it'll put hair on yer chest and give ya a deep voice."

Dren nodded. "I've had it. It's not bad. I prefer Correllian whiskey or scotch from Corescant. That stuff's pricey though but oh-so smooth. Anyhow, you said earlier that you're looking for your ship, Captain. What happened to it?"

Moira swallowed her food and said, "A no-good, shutta born, son-of-a Kath Hound stole it on Ord Mantell. He headed to Coruscant which is where Corso and I are going. I plan to steal it back and shorten the kriffing bastards life if possible."

Corso winced physically at her language and Dren's eyes widened. He was impressed by her colorful language. It was worthy of any officer, soldier or space marine in the armed forces. Chuckling and taking a sip of his ale, Dren said, "Well best of luck to you with that, Captain. I pity the poor nerf brain who crossed you."

Moira smiled sweetly and said, "You don't have to call me captian, you know. Call me Moira, Lieutenant."

Dren emptied his mug and said, "Only if you call me Dren. I only use titles when necessary and here, at a dinner table with a beautiful woman, is not necessary. You too, Corso."

Moira smiled beautifully and Dren finished his first plate of food. "If you two will excuse me a second, I'm going to get more food and another drink."

When he came back, Riggs was gone. "Where'd Corso go?"

Moira said, "Oh he's going to go and check out the shock ball court. He does enjoy a good game of shock ball. So, Dren, I'm dying to know – how did you get those scars?"

Dren chuckled and pointed to the one on his left cheek bone. "I got this from a slug thrower fired by a Separatist on Ord Mantell. Me and two grass-green grunts were pinned down so I just called in a bombing run. Well, when the dust settled, we headed towards the position and one of them had survived somehow and took a pot shot at me. It cut across my cheek and I had to yell at the two greenies to not shoot him. Turns out, he had some good information for command."

Moira nodded, fascinated. "Wow! That must have been something!"

Dren shrugged modestly. "Eh well, you know. You were on Ord Mantell. Wait a second…"

His face became a little skeptical. "We got reports of someone going behind lines and wreaking havoc on the Seps after blasting in to the space port like it was nothing while the separatists had several of anti-air cannons under their control. Was that you?"

Moira shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Maybe… Are you going to arrest me for interfering with a military operation?"

Dren shook his head, chuckling. "Hell no! If I wasn't slightly afraid of you, I'd come around this table and kiss you for saving us military types a whole bunch of trouble."

Moira gave a sultry wink. "Maybe, just maybe, I'll let you give me that kiss later. Let's just see where the night and the alcohol take us, shall we."

Dren agreed as he downed a glass of Coruscant scotch. He was about to ask about how someone managed to steal her ship when music began to play and an area of the hall went dark. The only lights were multi colored club-style lights. Moira's face took on a devilish look and Dren immediately shook his head. "No. I don't dance."

Moira didn't listen. "You do now, Soldierboy. Come on;" and she grabbed his hand and hauled him out of his seat. Sighing and blushing madly, Dren followed her onto the dance floor. Right into the thick of the crowd, Moira pulled him and started to dance. Dren really wasn't a horrible dancer, he just hated dancing in crowds like this. Moira was loving it though and Dren couldn't deny that she was downright mesmerizing when she danced. They were dancing around each other seductively when Dren felt his comlink vibrate. Putting a hand up and motioning towards the side lines of the dance floor, Dren showed Moira his comlink. Moira pouted and shewed him away. Dren pushed his way through the crowed and answered the comlink. "Hey Jorgan. Everything going alright?"

To Dren's surprise, a chuckle came from the other end. "Oh, I'm doing great, Lieutenant. I had an excellent meal and now I'm sitting to a sabacc game, some Correllian whisky and a nice cigarra. You doing alright, sir?"

Dren was shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm doing great, Sergeant. Dancing with that pretty young woman we met earlier – well, I guess I met her earlier."

A grunt came from the other end. "Eh, I guess I don't have to worry about you fraternizing with an enlisted marine then. That's good. Just don't do anything too crazy, sir. If I have to bale you from this ship's brig, I swear, I'm filing a report with General Garza."

Dren gasped in mock shock. "You'd tell mom on me, Jorgan?"

Again, to his shock, Dren heard another chuckle. "Yes I would, Lieutenant. Now get back to her before someone else notices her and you feel the need to do something stupid."

Drem laughed and signed off before turning back to the dance floor. He froze at what he saw. Moira wasn't dancing but was surrounded by four obviously drunk males – two humans, a twi'lek and a zabrak. Moira was clearly not happy that they were crowding her. Damn! Jorgan really called this one. Taking a deep breath, Dren waded into the crowed again and, when he got to them, called to Moira. "Hey, Moira. You doing okay?"

Moira looked at him and said, "I'm fine. Just a little short of air being crowded like this. You mind, boys?"

One of the humans and the twi'lek turned to him. "Butt out, boy. This has nothing to do with you. Mind your own business."

It had often been said in Dren's first unit to watch out for the Correllian's temper. It was well said, too. Dren had been written up a number of times for losing his temper and beating the shavett out of some other soldier. He especially despised space marines though. The damn jumpers always thought they were better, faster and stronger than army soldiers and it was a rare occasion for Dren to avoid a fight with them.

Dren was beginning to lose his temper now. "I'm making this my business!" he snapped. "This is a friend of mine and I don't like seeing my friends crowded and molested by a group of drunken idiots."

The twi'lek was about to put his hands on Dren when Moira moved. With a round house knee, she caught the zabrak in the gut before punching him in the side of the head. Dren grabbed the twi'lek's lekku and punched him in the face. The two humans were too drunk to even react. They just stared at them and Moira said, "You want some too, nerf brains?"

They both looked like they were about to try and fight when a large hand descended one each other their shoulders. Two tall figures were there in the dark green robes of the Jedi order. One of them, a broad fellow with muscle stretching the fabric to the limits, wore a simple tunic beneath and had a long-handled lightsaber at his belt. The other was even taller by at least three inches and wore armor under his green robe, a lightsaber at his belt as well. "What's going on here?" asked the taller one. Dren didn't even give the drunken troublemaker time to speak. "These four were crowding my friend. She asked them to give her some space and they pressed the issue. Things go out of hand and we had to knock these two out to get a point across."

The broader Jedi asked Moira, "Is that so, ma'am?"

Moira's eyes flashed. "Ma'am? I am not old enough to be called ma'am, Jedi. Yes, what Dren said is true. They wanted trouble and after trying to convince them otherwise, we gave it to them."

The two Jedi looked at each other and nodded. Suddenly, the music stopped and the lights turned back on. Through the crowed came four space marines. One of them, a commander in rank and a Mon Calamari asked, "What happened here? Ah, Jedi. Thank you for looking into the situation. Did you manage to glean any information?"

The broad one relayed the details to the marine commander and the taller one said, "You two look okay. My name is Alias Ordo and the broad bastard you see behind me is Nedeser Thul. If you need anything on this trip or have anymore trouble, let us know."

Dren and Moira nodded and the two Jedi turned away while the space marines led the four miscreants away. Suddenly, Corso walked up and said, "Everything alright, Cap'n?"

Moira nodded and said rather irritably. "You two know that I can, in fact handle myself, right? I'm not some damsel in distress that you need to swoop in and save."

Both Dren and Corso backed up, their hands up in a defensive posture. Dren said, "Woah, now. I never thought I had to rescue you. If there was going to be a fight, I just wanted in on the fun, that's all."

Corso nodded. "Same here, Cap'n. Besides, just because a lady can fight doesn't mean she should have to, that's all."

The music began to play and the lights went back down. Dren yelled over the sound, "I'm going to get another drink. Be right back."

When he came back, Dren noticed that Corso and Moira were dancing together. Corso looked a little stiff and uncomfortable while Moira was doing everything she could to make him uncomfortable. Dren chuckled. He liked this smuggler captain and her farm boy buddy. Moira saw him then and smiled, beckoning him seductively with her index finger. Downing the rest of his drink, Dren went into the masses. When he got to her, Moira wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down to her and whispered, "It's getting awful warm and close in here, don't you think, Soldierboy?"

Dren nodded, his hands on the small of her back and itching like blazes to go lower. Moira licked her lips slightly and whispered breathily, "Well why don't you dance one more dance with me and then we can go and find somewhere nice and private where you can tell me about all those scars of yours?"

Dren chuckled and nodded again. His mouth was quite dry and he didn't trust his voice. With their bodies pressed together, they began to dance. Half way through the song, Dren placed his scarred, rough hands on either side of Moira's face and kissed her. He half expected to be slugged for his presumptuousness. The last thing he expected was for Moira to mold her curvy body against his and trace his lips with her tongue. When he opened them out of reflex, she captured and sucked on his lower lip before driving her tongue deep into his mouth. Woah! He didn't expect that. The night just kept getting better and, if he was lucky, it could only get even better still from here.

It seamed like forever for both of them for that last song to end but when it finally did, Moira whispered in his ear, "I assume you and your soldier buddy are sharing a room. Well, Corso and I have separate ones. Follow me, Soldierboy."

Taking his hand, she pulled him along and Dren followed obediently. After rounding a couple corners, however, it seemed that the beautiful smuggler captain couldn't wait any longer. Suddenly, Dren felt himself slam against the bulkhead and she was kissing him ardently. Slowly, she lifted and leg and ground herself insistently against him. Dren groaned. He took her hips and pressed her harder against his thigh. A low whimpering moan went from her lips to his and she let go. "Come on, baby. A little further."

They hurried, kissing their way to one of the doors and Moira slapped at the control blindly as she began to kiss and nibble down his thick neck. With a hiss, the door opened and they both nearly fell into it. Separating a little, Moira gasped for breath and said, "Woah! Do this a lot, Soldierboy?"

Dren looked down, his own chest heaving. "Not as much as i'd like. War zones aren't the most appealing places to women and they certainly aren't to me."

Moira smiled and said, "I dunno. I've had some fun in a war zone. I could tell you stories that would curl your hair."

Dren chuckled. Moira sashayed up to him again and whispered, "But it's your turn to tell stories now, Baby."

She began to unbutton his flannel shirt. "Well most of the ones you can see right now are pretty low-key. Scrapes during training, near misses by blaster bolts or slugs, maintenance cuts and bruises - stuff like that."

Moira pushed the shirt off his shoulders and admired how this big soldier's muscles stretched the gray shirt beneath. Purring, she said, "Well, why don't you show me some more interesting ones then, Dren? A big, tough vet like you must have quite a few."

Dren smiled and stepped back. In one smooth motion, he pulled the gray shirt off, revealing masses of muscle and a whole new collection of scars. The big soldier knew what was coming. Women usually gave mixed looks of admiration and shock or even disgust. This one was no different. Moira's hazel eyes grew huge and they were mixed with fascination and a little bit of shock. Dren had a long horizontal scar right across his abdomen, two small scars about three centimeters and round on each rib cage and a massive star shaped scar right over his heart. "I know," said Dren. "Pretty gruesome, huh?"

Moira's expression changed slightly and she cooed. "Oh I was just marveling at your god-like physique. The scars just add to it. Make you a deal, baby;" she sat on her bed and crossed her legs, leaning back on her elbows in a way that pressed her chest out towards him. "You tell me about each of those scars and I'll take off something at the end of each story."

Dren nodded agreeably. This night can not possibly get any better. Pfft, of course it can. "Well these two are from the same thing. A separatist sniper got a shot off at me. The slug went in one side and out the other. I had a real nice suit of armor that sealed the wounds slightly and kept my lungs from collapsing."

Moira slowly bent over and took off her boots and the socks beneath before sitting back up. The motion had afforded Dren a great view down the front of her tunic, though he didn't make his look blatant, looking away after only a moment. Moira chuckled, "My, my - a gentleman who doesn't stare; that's admirable but unnecessary in this case, Baby. I take it that kolto was able to fix you up after that slug went through you?"

Dren nodded. "Oh yeah - kolto and a very skillful battle field surgeon and a rather odd medical droid. Anyhow, this one -" and he pointed to the long white line across his rippling abdominal muscles, "- I got from a trandoshan mercenary. He surprised me and gave me a wicked cut with a vibro-bayonet. I broke his neck and then fell onto my back, using my hands and a none-too clean rifle cleaning rag to hold my insides in and..." Dren blushed suddenly and looked away. "Sorry, that was bit too much information."

Moira giggled and said, "Oh don't worry, baby. It doesn't bother me. You said you broke the trandoshan's neck - how did you do that?"

Dren shrugged nonchalantly. "Punched him real hard right in the nose then pulled him into a lock. His claws gave me these just before I snapped his neck in half."

Dren indicated several sets of long, jagged scars on his arms. Moira stared at him open mouthed. She had run into trandoshans before and they still made her nervous. This soldier had gone knuckle to claw with a trandoshan warrior after getting cut open and still killed it with his bare hands and not only won, but lived through it. Dren looked at her expectantly but Moira just shook her head. "Dren, after everything like that, any soldier would have been excused from the Republic military with commendations and awards and the marks of a hero yet you ran back into it. Why? What were you fighting so hard for?"

Dren looked a little surprised. "For the Republic - what else? My old man was a soldier though he wasn't a combatant. He had a skill with keeping weapons and machines working. They would bring him anything from a vibro-knife to an artillery piece or from a hydraulic drill to a walker and he would get it working in no time. In fact, he never saw an ounce of combat in the last war."

Suddenly, Dren's grinning face fell. "Well that is until towards the end. He died on Aldaaran as part of the task force that Jedi Master Satele Shan lead to liberate the planet. He volunteered to go and make sure that all their weapons and armor and equipment were shipshape. Somehow though, he was pulled into the thick of it and was cut down by a Sith Warrior."

Silence followed for a minute before he said in a more cheerful though still sober voice, "My mom swore up and down that she wouldn't ever let me enlist. She said that my father died so that I could become something more than a simple soldier. Like a good little boy, I went through school, got excellent grades and the highest marks and graduated top of my class. It was only two days after the graduation ceremony that my mom was riding the tram home when she was mugged and killed by some swoop gang thugs. Well I went after them and killed seventeen or eighteen of them before CorSec caught up with me. When the judge heard my story, he gave me two options: a penal colony or join the military. I chose the army."

Moira's face had softened and she had patted the bed beside her. Dren strode over and sat down next to her. "The Army taught me that actions like that only beget more hate and anger. If I was going to fight, I needed a better reason than my own pain. There are billions of people over ten thousand worlds hurting and I can help them by protecting and saving them. So that's what I'm doing. I threw my heart and soul into the Army and now..." and he stopped, smiling conspiratorially at Moira. "...keep this to yourself, Moira, but I was promoted to command the most notorious special forces unit in the Republic military."

Moira's eyes widened. "You command Havoc squad?"

Dren's eyes shot up. "How the kriff do you know about that?"

Moira managed to say, "My cousin designed a starship for the special forces - a B-7 Thunderclap Fighter-Transport. Supposed to be more high tech than a Verpine's datapad."

Dren chuckled and they were quiet for awhile. Suddenly Dren stood and laughed. "Well my sob story sure killed the mood. Sorry about that, Moira."

He was about to throw his gray shirt back on when she cocked her head to the side. "Hey! Why are you getting dressed again? I never said I wanted you to leave and I was enjoying the view."

Mature Content Ahead

She stood up, took the shirt and threw it across the room before taking his arms and maneuvering him back to the bed and whispering, "As a citizen of this Republic, I feel duty-bound to show you some appreciation for everything that you've been through. Oh, and I think I owe you another item of clothing, don't I baby?"

Pushing him down on the bed, Moira straddled his lap and grabbed the bottom of her blue tunic. Slowly, seductively, she lifted it up over her head, revealing one of the most beautiful bodies Dren had ever seen. She still wore a matching set of undergarments but Dren's imagination made up for what was covered. "One more story for that star on your chest and you can help me take these off;" whispered Moira before pressing her body against his and kissing his lips, his cheek and along his jaw, making talking problematic for a moment. When he could, Dren tried to hurry through the last story. "Well, as you can imagine, this last one was courtesy of the Ord Mantell Separatist movement. I took a blaster bolt straight to the chest. It burned through my armor and chest. I was out like a light but when I woke up, my squad mates swore up and down that it had burned through skin, muscle and bone and they could see my heart beating there. When I looked, I only saw a big white scar."

Moira hmm'd against the side of his neck before cooing. "You must be one hell of a soldier. Do you think you can help me with these last few pesky clothes?"

Dren chuckled huskily and said, "I'm sure I could but then you would be naked and I wouldn't be and that's not fair."

Moira laughed and backed off the bed. "That is true."

She bent down and unbuckled his boots before tugging them off along with his socks. Smoothly, she unbuckled his belt and pulled him to his feet. She kissed him ardently as she pushed his denim pants down along with his under shorts while he impressed her by unclasping her bra without even looking before easing her panties down her long, smooth legs. With an almost violent shove, Moira pushed him back onto the bed. Dren said, "Woah!" as his knees buckled against the foot board of the bed and he fell backwards. Using his hands, he pulled himself further back onto the bed and Moira jumped up after him. She laid atop him length wise, kissing him and grinding her pelvis against his impressive and partially aroused manhood. After a few moments of kissing that left both their heads spinning, she half rolled off him and began to stroke him. "Thank you for your service;" she whispered seductively as she did. Dren's head was losing all conscious thought. Before his mind was completely lost, he flipped her over and kissed her again. After a few moments of being lip-locked, he began to trail his lips down her neck, paying special attention to the throbbing vain there before nibbling her collar bones and continuing down. Moira gave a little gasp of shock when he gave one of her breasts a nip before soothing it with a kiss. "Kriff me, Dren!" she nearly shouted as an exclamation more than a demand. The soldier chuckled. "Oh we'll get to that."

His hand was trailing down her toned stomach and Moira was beginning to tremble and whimper in anticipation. As his hand move downward, it began to slow until it was almost stopped just above her slick folds. "Dammit, Dren - stop teasing me!"

Dren's husky chuckled made her want to either slap the mischief right out of him or force the issue by pushing him over and mounting him but, oh force forever, it already felt so good and could only get better from there. Finally, two fingers rubbed over the entrance to her core and she shivered like a leaf. The shivering was replaced by a spasm as his nimble fingers found the bundle of nerves that sent bolts of pleasure arching through her body. The whimpers turned into loud moans of desire and pleasure as his fingers stroked and teased the spot while he continued to kiss, nibble and suckle everything he could reach. For blissful minutes, Moira lay there moaning and insisting and begging Dren to please don't stop and oh force, do that again. Dren was enjoying inflicting nearly painful pleasure on such a beautiful woman. When he realized that she was mere moments away from climaxing, he slid the two fingers inside her while still using his thumb to worry her sensitive nub and she bit down on a knuckle to keep from screaming. In moments, she was moaning and her body was bucking uncontrollably as her muscles clenched around his fingers. With a great sense of masculine satisfaction, Dren stopped and let her recover. Moira looked at him, her eyes nearly rolled back into her head and her lids fluttering. "Wow!" she whispered. "I haven't felt like that since..." but she couldn't focus her mind enough to remember. Smiling, she sluggishly rolled over so that she was half laying on top of him. "Just let me pull myself together a bit and we can continue this, baby."

Dren chuckled. The chuckle turned to a sharp intake of air as she grabbed his still erect manhood and began to stroke. "Just a few moments, Soldierboy, and I'll take you for a ride like you've never been on before."

Dren only lay there as she slowly stroked. After a little bit, Moira pulled herself up and positioned him in just the right spot before lowering herself and engulfing him completely. They both groaned at the sensation and just waited a couple seconds to settle in. Moira leaned forward and placed her hands on Dren's chest. As she slowly began to raise herself off until he was still barely in her, she cooed, "So much lovely, lovely muscle - I could enjoy this view forever."

Dren barely gritted out as she slowly lowered herself back down, "Oh the feeling is very mutual."

Talking became almost impossible, aside from the repetitive nonsense that came with sex. Moira slowly began to pick up the pace - up and down, up and down. Dren's large, rough hands refused to stay still, wandering from her hips to her ass to her back to her breasts back to her hips. Suddenly, he took hold of her hips and held her still for just a moment. Moira gave him a small frown and was about to ask if something was wrong when Dren set his feet and drove himself up and into her. The question became a choked half-moan-half-scream. In that position, Dren thrust himself in and out of her as she gripped his shoulders till her knuckles were white and his shoulders were bruising. They quickly felt themselves going higher towards blissful oblivion. Kriff, Kriff, KRIFF and More, MORE and Don't you dare stop and more was gasped out until they both began to buck and spasm. Dren gave a long groan of release and Moira screamed soundlessly to the ceiling before collapsing. Their bodies were trembling and covered in a layer of sweat. Dren began to feel a little cold and pulled the blanket over them.

Mature Content Ends here.

When they both began to breath normally and Moira had removed herself from Dren, the big soldier sat up. "Where're you goin'?" Moira slurred, still coming down from her ecstatic high. Dren chuckled and said, "Do you mind if I use your refresher real quick?"

Moira nodded. "Shir, go 'head. Better come back though."

Dren nodded. When he came back, he sat down on the edge of the bed. Moira looked a little more lucid and said, "That was something else, Soldierboy. We really must do that again sometime."

Dren agreed soundly. He was about to start gathering his clothes when a knock came from the door. Dren froze and looked at Moira as the voice of Corso Riggs came through. "Hey Cap'n. Just checking on you before I turn in. Do you need anything?"

Embarrassed and a little nervous about being caught by her farm boy buddy, Moira was about to snap at him but instead said, "I'm alright, Corso. Thanks. Have a good sleep. Be ready for action tomorrow though."

A booming chuckle came from the other side of the door followed by, "G'night, Cap'n. Sleep tight."

As soon as they heard the door across the hall hiss shut, Dren quickly threw his clothes back on, all but his heavy, clunky boots which he carried to be silent. When he got to his flannel shirt, he found that Moira was wearing it, smiling impishly. "Oh did you want this, Soldierboy?"

Dren laughed and shook his head, "I'm good. Looks better on you anyway."

Moira stood up and, to Dren's surprise, gave him a hug - not a sexual hug but a friendly hug. "You know, Dren, this may seem a little out of place after everything we just did but you need to know - you're a good man and you do great things for the Republic. You make fringers like me re-evaluate why we do what we do. Just keep that in mind, okay?"

Dren hugged her back, a new-found affection for the beautiful captain worming its way into his heart. "You be you, Captain. You be you."

They separated and Dren slipped out quietly. When he was goodly distance away from Moira's quarters, he began to whistle a jaunty marching tune. When he got back to his and Jorgan's quarters, he was surprised to see Jorgan still away. The Cathar sergeant was frowning, as usual. "Have a good time, Sir?"

"Oh yes, Jorgan, I sure did. Now I'm exhausted though. What the frak are you still doing up?"

A huge, fang-filled smile crossed Jorgan's furry face. "Showing off, of course, Sir. Take a look at this."

He tossed a credit stick to Dren who plugged it into a datapad. When he saw how much money was on the stick, the Correllian's eyes widened. "I'll be damned, Jorgan. You tripled the amount of money we have to work with."

Jorgan stood and stretched. "Never play against a Cathar. You can't read their faces but they can smell your anxiety. Now I'm going to bed. Get some sleep, Sir. I've a feeling we're going to have a busy day tomorrow."

Dren chuckled to himself as Jorgan plopped down onto the bed and fell asleep.

I hope you enjoyed this story. I feel like the flashpoints are never written about enough so I thought I would give it ago. The one is going to be a three parter. I'm also hoping to develop the characters of the Republic playable characters and their companions a little more. Anyhow, please read and review. I love hearing what people think of my stories.

Updated 07.01.2016