I'm back with another chapter as promised, my loyal readers! What to say? Undercover mission on Tatooine...let's go!
The shuttle touched down in a landing bay in the center of Mos Eisley spaceport. As the ramp began to lower, Tharcourt took a final look at himself, and adjusted the blasters on his thighs. He straightened the goggles on his hat and started tightening the fingerless gloves he wore. The commander felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked back to see Ekks standing with a small grin on his face.
"Commander…don't worry about it." The Corellian advised. "They don't make all the thieves and killers line up for inspection." Tharcourt scoffed.
"Guess you're right. Old habits, I guess…"
"Well, if you're gonna blend in, don't worry about what you look like. Don't worry about what people think about you here, and fight whoever says anything about you."
"Fight them?" Drakken asked quickly.
"Oh yes. First guy comes up to you in a cantina and calls you something other than sir, knock his teeth in. Everybody else will warm up to you then. That's how it works in places like this." Ekks explained.
"Ahh damnit…what have I gotten myself into?" Drakken groaned.
"I'm ready, "C'mander…I mean…Colton." Freya announced as she exited the refresher in her new getup. Drakken was almost floored. Her chestplate covered about as much of her body as her shirt, and with the short boots, her legs were bare from mid-thigh to ankle. The young woman had let her fiery red-orange hair down, and it was only held at bay by her pair of tinted goggles sitting atop her head. The red scarf was wrapped loosely about her neck, falling in folds across her shoulders. She had even put on heavier-than-usual eyeliner. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to form words.
"Gah…um…sithspit…" Drakken choked out. "Ahem…you look uh…you look the part, ensign…damnit, I mean Rose." He made a forceful flourish of standing up rigidly and slightly upturning his head like a stuffy officer.
"Eheheheheheheh…" A chuckling came from behind them, and they both turned to see Gallen chortling away, his rifle bouncing against his chest. "Good one, sir…"
"Shut up, Gallen." Drakken and Freya both said in unison. They looked at each other a moment and both grinned. He saw Freya give him a slow once over, and her cheeks turned a little pink.
"My…you um…sure look the part too…Colton Drake." She said softly. "You ready to go try yer hand at actin' now?"
"No time like the present." Tharcourt muttered. He looked at the rest of the team. "Alright…remember your assignments. Sound off."
"Dall and I are to locate and question TK-Seven-Five-Three and TK-One-Zero-Eight about the freighter escaping the spaceport, sir." Sergeant Daraay stated. Tharcourt nodded.
"Scout detachment will take the speeders and search the residence and grounds outlined in our orders, sir." Felian declared. Mets and Coleth gave nods to the affirmative.
"Since I know the place, I'm supposed to wander around and see if anybody knows about this Skywalker guy." Lago said.
"Me, Gallen and R-5 will see if anyone in the spaceport knows the jack-leg that was flying the freighter, and if he has a home port." Ekks said, patting the astromech's dome. "And we have…" He grinned. "…permission to use coercion to get answers outta them." The commander pointed a finger at the pilot.
"Corporal, remember what I said to all of you." He advised. "You find rebels or sympathizers, have a field day. I catch any of you harming or killing civvies without good cause, sanctioned or not, you'll answer to me. If they don't want to talk, you can threaten them. You can kick their doors down and break their furniture. You can arrest them for not cooperating, but don't beat on them."
"Yes sir." The troopers replied.
"Good. Now let's get this done. Lago, if I call you up, meet up with me, but act casual. Daraay, if I call you up, meet up with me quick, and be violent.
"Yes sir." The Death Trooper nodded.
"Come on, Th…Rose. Let's check out the local drinking establishment and make friends with the resident malefactors." He started down the ramp with Freya beside him.
"Doon't ye mean go knock back a pint an' 'ave a row er two?" She asked with a smile. "So, since we be mercenaries, 'ow much we charge t' feckin' slot somebody?"
"You're enjoying this way too much." Drakken commented.
They stepped into the cantina, and were immediately met with an assault on almost every sense. The place smelled like tabac, incense, cheap alcohol and sweat. The lights were dim, and it took a few moments for Drakken and Freya's eyes to adjust. A Bith jizz-wailing band was playing on a stage in one corner of the establishment, their music mixing with dozens of voices speaking at least half a dozen languages. Several of the patrons turned to stare at them as they walked in, a few watching them as they made their way to the bar. An older, broad-shouldered man stood behind the bar, cleaning a glass with a rag that looked like it should only be making the mug filthier.
"Yeah, what can I get you?" The barkeep asked in a gruff voice.
"A good ale if you got it, sir." Drakken answered. The man looked to Freya.
"Ye know 'ow t' mix a champaign supernova?" She said loudly over the band's flourish at the end of a song. He nodded and went to fetch their drinks. "Wot now, bossman?" She asked.
"We'll have a drink and ask around." Drakken replied. He took out a cigarra and lit it. He felt someone tap him on the shoulder, and turned to see rough-looking man in an eyepatch and flight suit.
"Name's Gunrock." The stranger said. "I'm looking to ship off on any vessel. I've worked the spice routes, I'm a good deckhand, and I got four notches on my blaster." Tharcourt nodded.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Gunrock…me and my partner are on a job right now. If we weren't, I might consider it." Gunrock looked at the blasters on the man's legs, and glanced at the armored breastplate on Freya, and nodded.
"Sorry for botherin' ya, mack." He said, and walked away. Drakken blinked a few times. It was so strange to be in a place where people would just come up out of the blue looking for illicit work, and give you their resume as a criminal.
"Hey…what's a pretty thing like you doing in a hole like this?" Another man asked Freya, sitting on the barstool beside her. The bartender sat her drink down, and she took a sip of the colorful mixed drink.
"I'm 'ere on work, mate." She answered.
"Well how about a dance, little lady?" He asked. "I'd like to get to know you better." She was getting annoyed with the stranger.
"I'm taken, an' I don't think me man'd like ye dancin' with me." She stated. He looked over to Drakken.
"And what does that man of yours do? I happen to be first mate of the best blockade runner in this sector."
"Oh…that's lovely, it is." Freya replied, rolling her eyes. "An' me an' me man 'appen to be mercenaries, an' we're working, so sod off." Tharcourt gripped the handle of his mug tightly, listening to the exchange. He was becoming highly irritated with the man's incessant advances on Freya.
"I don't care if you're a hired gun." The man growled. "You're still a big mouthed little schutta."
"Alright, time to step off." Drakken announced. The man walked around Freya to stand behind Drakken. Tharcourt slowly spun about in the chair with a bored look on his face as the man glowered at him.
"The Hell you just say to me, girly man?" Tharcourt remembered what Ekks had told him before leaving the shuttle.
"Hey, Nerrick…" The bartender called. "Won't you settle down and leave my customers be, huh?"
"I don't take no lip from some backwater bartender!" Nerrick yelled, getting the attention of several of the patrons. He looked back at Tharcourt. "And I ain't going to be sassed by a hired gun and his ten-foot hussy!" That was the last insult Nerrick got out before Drakken shattered his mug over the man's head. The hot-tempered patron hit the floor like a boulder. The bartender simply nodded to a large devaronian by the door. The bouncer picked Nerrick up like a bag of laundry, and carried him outside, returning moments later dusting off his hands.
"Sorry 'bout that." The bartender said. "He starts a fight about once a week. Can I get you another drink?"
"Yeah…sorta broke mine." Drakken returned, holding up the handle of the destroyed glass. "Hey, we're looking for somebody. Maybe you can help."
"Depends. Who is it, and should I care?"
"Well I don't know his name." Drakken began. "But there's a bounty out on this guy, and we're looking to collect."
"I don't get involved with that." The bartended said gruffly, sitting another ale in front of Drakken. "Go ask that Rodian over there. He keeps up with some a' the bounties." Tharcourt peered off into the dimly-lit bar to see a male rodian with blue-green skin sitting at a table with a weequay. He motioned to Freya and the two made their way over to the small booth.
"Evenin'." Drakken greeted. "I was told to talk to you about a bounty."
"Looking che wompa, mo looking che someboody-eh?" The rodian said.
"Uhhh…" Drakken sounded.
"He wants to know if you're trying to pick up a bounty, or if you're looking for somebody in particular." The weequay translated.
"Oh. I'm already on the hunt. I'm looking for someone who came through here."
"If mee know hoohah, doe fee sa duba jujumon credits che information, ootman.
"He said if he knows the person, you pay him two-hundred credits and he'll help you." The rodian's comrade said, then shrugged. "Finder's fee."
"Fair enough." Drakken said, and nodded to the Rodian. "Deal. I'm looking for the pilot of a Corellian freighter that blasted its way outta here a couple of months back. Empire's got a hell of a price on his head, and we aim to collect." The two aliens looked at each other, then back to Tharcourt.
"Koochoo murishani, thinksa hescan bolla after-a Solo. Heheheh." The Rodian commented. The weequay sighed and looked up.
"Hey, you sure you know what you're getting into?" He asked. "There's a lot of bounties out right now, maybe you'd be interested in…"
"My name's Drake, and he's my quarry." Tharcourt stated, putting on his best impression of the crazed captain from the story he'd been reading. "And I'll pursue him to the ends of the galaxy. I'll dive into the heart of a Kriffin' star to get that scoundrel and bring him in. Nobody…" He pressed his palms against the table melodramatically. "NOBODY gets away from us." The pair of informants fell silent, and seeing his cue, Drakken tossed two hundred-credit bars on the table.
"Bolla ahead um tell him. Mee hagwa feel-uh like getting-a shot by this loca sleemo." The rodian said quickly, grabbing the credits.
"His name's Solo." The weequay said in a quiet voice. "The ship is the Millenium Falcon. He's already got a bounty on him, and I guess this makes two, so you're going to have a lot of competition."
"A 'lil friendly competition ne'er hurt anything." Freya commented with a cocky grin.
"If you say so." The weequay said. "Now get outta here. This isn't a public forum." Drakken and Freya turned to go back to the bar, but were met halfway by a large man wearing a helmet and a long coat.
"I would be careful. Solo is mine, and so is the bounty." The man spoke in a threatening tone.
"Hm. I heard it was an open bounty." Drakken replied, tucking his thumbs into his belt and staring at the man unperturbed.
"I'm hunting the smuggler for Jabba, and I'm not going to let a couple of Imperial boot-lickers take him from under me." The bounty hunter said, and sucked his teeth.
"I take offence to that." Tharcourt stated. "I have no love for the Empire. Only for the credits and the fun. It's a job, and right now, it's my job."
"You must be new at this job. Sometimes, bounty hunters get killed by their quarry…and sometimes it's by a better hunter who deserves the reward more." Tharcourt sensed the man's intent, and glanced down at the blaster on the large bounty hunter's side. He slowly drew himself into a position where he was squared off with the hunter, let his legs bend slightly at the knees, and relaxed his shoulders. To anyone, he would look like he was completely at ease. In truth, Drakken was concentrating on the position of his blasters, and tensing the muscles of his hands, working his fingers into a ready position.
"Well friend…I don't think you want to get into a fire fight in a bar, especially with the likes of me. Might get real messy." Tharcourt said calmly with a smile. "So why don't you come over with us, and let me buy you a drink, and we'll agree to disagree." The man threw back his coat, but by the time he had drawn his blaster from its holster, Drakken already had his two Westars in hand, and fired four times into the bounty hunter. The man wavered on his feet for a moment, then fell dead on the floor. The music stopped abruptly, and nearly all of the patrons stopped what they were doing and stared at him and Freya. Drakken looked around the room and shrugged innocently.
"He drew first." Tharcourt stated, then spun his twin blasters about on his fingers and holstered them. The music started again, and the patrons went back to their business as if nothing had happened. The two of them made their way back over to the bar, oblivious to the figure sitting in the shadows in the corner who was watching them intently.
"Wow…er Colton…" Freya said as they sat back down on their old seats. "That was…amazin'."
"Oh…you mean my shooting?" He asked. "Nah. I was unfamiliar with these blasters. Almost got wasted there." Freya's eyes widened. That was him on a bad day? She felt her cheeks grow warm as she watched him order a drink and toss the barkeep a few credits for the trouble. Drakken was an incredible fighter, especially with blaster pistols. She wondered where he had learned that fast-draw trick. Up until now, she had never seen him fight, outside of the training hall of course, and his calm demeanor and talent with his weapons was…she blushed even deeper, glad that the dim lighting of the cantina would hide it. She picked up her drink and drained the rest of it.
"Hey." A voice said from behind Tharcourt. He turned cautiously to see a large reptilian humanoid in an orange flight suit. The being looked for all the galaxy like a huge sentient lizard. It flicked its scaled hands up in an off-handed parley. "That was some fancy shooting there. Heheh. I just wanted to tell you that."
"Well thanks, sir." Tharcourt returned with a nod. "Gave him every chance to back down. Sorry it had to go like it did."
"A friendly hunter. That's a rare one." The reptilian said with a smirk. "Eh. He had it comin'. Guess everybody meets their match at some point. Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" Freya looked over curiously, wanting to hear Drakken's explanation to the question she herself was wondering, if he would even give the truth to the strange alien.
"I guess I picked it up back in the Clone Wars." Drakken shrugged. "Been practicing ever since."
"Oh, the Clone Wars. Yep. That was a party, wasn't it?" The reptilian stated with a little nostalgia. He placed a palm on the shoulder of the man sitting next to Tharcourt and the patron seemed to recognize the bounty hunter and left to find seating elsewhere. The alien plopped himself on the stool. "Name's Bossk." He held out a clawed hand, and Drakken took it in a handshake.
"Colton Drake." Tharcourt returned. "This is Rose Feral." Freya gave a little wave to Bossk.
"Never heard of ya. You two new to the game?" The trandoshan asked.
"Mostly. We started a little while back. Figured it'd be a good idea to keep a low profile too."
"Keep your heads down and do your job, eh? That's a good way to do it. The ones that like being seen end up at the top or buried reeeaaal far down." Bossk grinned. "I like your style. Last time I saw someone use two blasters like that was back in the Clone Wars. Real quick draw artist. Wore a big hat. He was at the top for a while." He shrugged. "That was back when I ran with the kid and Aurra."
"Oh yeah?" Drakken said.
"Tell you what, just 'cause I like you…you want Solo? I'm hunting him too, and I'll give you a free tip. I heard he's working with the Rebels against the Empire. He's been skipping from system to system with some kid from here."
"Know the kid's name?"
"Nah. All I know is that he left here a couple months back with this local guy and some old man. Cut out on a major debt to Jabba, and you just don't do that if you value being above ground, you know?"
"He's made a lot of enemies, it seems." Drakken mused.
"Heheh. Solo is good at that. Dengar had it in for him before he double-crossed Jabba, now he's made it his life's goal to find him. IG88's on the trail too, but I don't trust a droid t' have the instinct for this kinda hunt."
"And you?" Tharcourt asked.
"Heh. I'm a trandoshan. We're born to hunt. Literally."
"Well, that's quite the edge, Bossk." Drakken quipped. "I have to make it up as I go along." Bossk laughed and slapped Drakken on the back.
"That's a good one, Colton." The hunter said. "Ah, I gotta get out of here. I'll see ya around." He stood from the bar stool.
"Yep. Good meetin' you." Tharcourt returned. The trandoshan left the bar, and Freya leaned over.
"Well now. 'E was a right friendly sort now, wasn't he?" She commented.
"Indeed. Most bounty hunters are pretty agreeable guys I guess." Drakken said. "Save for that poor bastard over there." He motioned to the corpse on the floor that was being dragged off by a janitor. "Alright. We got some pretty useful intel. Let's see what else we can dig up."
They left the bar and ventured out into the streets of Mos Eisley. Freya's first thought was that Lago wasn't lying when he said it was hot and sandy. She pulled her tinted goggles down over her eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight, and already felt sweat on her forehead. It wasn't hot…it was broiling. To make the city even lovelier, there seemed to be a layer of dust caked onto everything. The streets were dusty sand. A fine sand blew through the air. The buildings were seemingly made of sandstone and local mortar. Everything was the color of sand. It was almost dreary in its monotone, like the whole city was painted in one shade of tan, with rare splashes of color faded by the harsh rays of the twin suns overhead.
"This place won't be winnin' village o' the year anytime soon." She commented as they walked down the street.
"I don't really think they care." Drakken sighed. "You're from the Outer Rim. How come your world isn't a crime-ridden sewer like these other places?"
"I guess we're just more civilized…if ye can believe it." Freya answered. "We like the quiet, an' lock up er beat the piss outta ne'er-do-wells. Breohans try an' keep things diplomatic whenever possible though, you know? We're gen'rally a friendly and peaceful people…" She pursed her lips for a moment. "Except when the clans get t' fightin'. We ain't done that in a couple a' generations though."
"Oh? What do the clans fight about?" Drakken asked.
"Och, what don't we?" Thorne scoffed. "Ye see, we nae got a single leader really. Each clan got a chieftain. All the chieftain's get together now an' discuss things. The king isn't really a king like ye'd think. 'E just hears the clan leaders talk an' guides things along. Passes decisions into law, you know? If he tries t' seize too much power an' lord o'er everything, they'll just hang 'im and get a new king. It's happened before."
"Now that's democracy in action." Tharcourt stated. "So, all the clans hash out their differences and work together?"
"Aye. Pretty much. It's been that way since the great war a couple hundred years ago. All a' the clans got into it, an' it was pretty bloody. They decided that peace a'twixt 'em was a better idea. That's when they formed th' council. All of em save those Makazer bastards on the far side a' the planet. They wouldn't join. Back'ards sottin' bludgers, the lot of em."
"Uh-huh." Tharcourt droned with a smirk.
"Wot? They and a couple a little clans went off an' decided to live on the other side a' the world rather'n jine up with we civilized folk. Nobody likes 'em very much."
"They bother the rest of your people?" Drakken asked.
"No…I mean…I ne'er heard of 'em doin' so…"
"Then why not leave them alone?" Tharcourt posed. Freya looked like this was the first time a brilliant idea like that had ever been put forth.
"I…I dunno…" She muttered.
"What…you grew up hating them?" He asked knowingly.
"Aye." She sighed.
"Never questioned it. It was just…common knowledge. They're bad people." She glanced over at him with a tired look.
"Aye…an' the way ye say it…it makes me think."
"Good." Drakken stated. "You know, you shouldn't take it personally. My people were the same way. I think everyone is." He kicked a pebble on the street. "Everybody's got their enemy." He let out a breath and shook his head. "Gotta have your immigrants or your non-humans…your rival clan…" He glanced at Freya. "…or your seps. The big, bad government you gotta overthrow, or the religious nuts to crush…or the guy that called you an idiot last week." Freya nodded gently. "You know, I think hate and intolerance is passed down from father to son till you get down the damned line and nobody knows why they hate anymore."
"You hate anyone, me darlin'?" She asked softly. Tharcourt shot her a smirk.
"Oh yes…I hate too. I can hate like you wouldn't believe. And I hate the fact that I hate. Ain't that kind of funny?" He looked down at the ground for a moment, and Freya caught a fleeting look of sadness cross his face. "I guess all we can do is…try to keep it from consuming us, huh?" He felt Freya's hand lightly grasp his, and looked down with an almost confused expression. He gave a small smile, and squeezed her hand gently as they walked.
"Ye can hate…but I know ye can care too." She said. "Ye wanna look all big an' bad, but ye got a heart, an' that's what makes ye a good man." He stopped in the middle of the street.
"Hm." He hummed. "Maybe you're the only one I let see it."
"Nae. E'erybody that knows ye well can see it, me darlin'. I think I'm the only one ye've let hear it." Drakken started to speak, but closed his mouth. She had him there. Freya had been the only person he'd ever opened up to, the only person he'd allowed himself to get this close to. Again, he felt awkward, questioning to himself if they were friends or something more. He shook himself out of that line of thinking. Two ales in, and he was thinking with his baser instincts again. Right?
"I don't know why." He finally said. "I just know that I'm glad we met." She smiled.
"Commander, sir?" His commlink crackled to life. He pulled it from his vest pocket and held it close to his mouth. "It's Lago."
"Lago…I told you to call me Colton." He whispered back.
"Oh kriff…sorry s…Colton." Lago said back. Drakken rolled his eyes. "Can you meet me at the restaurant three blocks west of the Cantina? You gotta hear this." Drakken met eyes with Freya and they quickly made their way to the young stormtrooper's location.
They arrived to find Lago sitting at one of the tables of the open-air eating establishment, talking animatedly with a deeply tanned and dark-haired man about Drakken's age. By the way the two were conversing, Drakken could tell immediately that the man was likely a friend of Lago's, an ally of the Empire or both. As soon as he spotted the two undercover Imperial officers, Lago waved them over happily. They joined him at the table and he motioned toward the two.
"Alright uncle, these are the two I was telling you about." He said. "Um…Colton, Rose, this my uncle Kitster."
"Good to meet you." Drakken greeted, shaking the man's hand.
"Kitster Banai."
"Me pleasure." Freya said in turn.
"So, you two are like private law or something, and you're trying to dig up some stories on Skywalker…" Kitster said meditatively. "And I thought my nephew here had run off to join the military." He looked at the younger man. "And you said you work with these guys? What in Jabba's folds are you doing now, hanging around bounty hunters…"
"I did join…and…it's um…complicated, Uncle Kitster."
"Yeah, like most everything out there beyond the atmosphere is." The older man grumbled. "Eh. Imperial soldier, mercenary…it's all about an even wash. You people probably have more authority out here than the Empire does anyhow. So what did you want to know?"
"We're tracking somebody sir, and the name Skywalker keeps coming up." Drakken explained. "I'd be grateful for any help or information you can give me."
"Well sure, I don't mind telling you everything I know." Banai shrugged. "I dunno how it could help you out though. Skywalker died years ago."
"Wait…you said Skywalker is dead?" Tharcourt pressed. Lago's uncle raised his eyebrows and huffed.
"Yeah, hate to break it to you, but the only Skywalkers I ever knew died a long time ago." The older man stated.
"Huh. Well…can you tell me a little about them anyway?" Drakken asked.
"Sure. Me and him were good friends back when I was a little kid. He was a hell of a podracer."
"What's a…podracer, sir?" Freya inquired. Both generations of the family's eyes lit up a little.
"It's like ship racing…" Kitster began.
"Only a lot faster and closer to the ground." Lago added.
"If you guys are on-world for a while, you have to watch one. It'll keep you on the edge of your seat." Banai said.
"So he was a great pilot as a kid." Drakken concluded.
"Yeah. That's how he won his freedom. Me and him were both slaves, you know?"
"That's terrible." Freya commented. Kitster smiled a little at her concern, and shrugged.
"Just the way things are out here, ma'am. But anyway, he won his freedom and went off with some Jedi. His mother…Shmi…good woman…" He sighed again. "About the kindest soul you could ever meet, she was. Shmi ended up freed to, and got married. Then she got killed by Tuscan raiders. I guess he came back and slaughtered the whole village of sand people. I mean he wiped...them...out."
"Then wot happened?" Freya pressed.
"Dunno." Banai stated. "I heard that he became one of the best Jedi there was. He was a real hero in the Clone Wars. Then…I guess he died."
"You said he died in the war. Do you know how?" Tharcourt questioned.
"No. Just…everyone heard about it. He got killed toward the end." Drakken was feeling a bit confused now. Lord Vader was certain that the man who had destroyed the DS-1 was named Skywalker, and that he hailed from this planet. And here was this man, telling him truthfully that the only Skywalkers he knew had been dead for twenty years.
"Do you know if he had any other family here?" Drakken asked him. "Brothers, father, anything?"
"No sir. Him and Shmi were the only Skywalkers I ever knew of, and I grew up here. Of course, there was the man Shmi married. He had a son, and he had a wife. They both got killed a couple months back at their home." It took a nanosecond for the conclusion to form in Tharcourt's mind that this house was the location Felian and the scouts were checking out now. And he knew exactly who had killed them.
"Alright. Thank you, Kitster. I appreciate you talking to me." Drakken said. "Lago, you can mill around the city some more. Come on Rose, there's something I gotta check on."
As they left the restaurant, a figure appeared on the rooftop across the road. The slim, short human made her way to the edge of the roof, her face hidden under the tan cap she wore, and the off-white scarf tied around her lower face. All that was visible was her brown eyes and a little tanned skin around them. A long, thin, off-white robe hid her skin-tight white pants and tight brown top, as well as the DH-17 blaster pistol at her side. She drew a set of macrobinoculars and peered through them, watching the two individuals leave the restaurant and start making their way back toward the spaceport. She tucked the binoculars back into a rucksack, and threw it on her back. Then breaking into a dead run, the agile woman leapt across the narrow alleyway to the roof of the building next door, the soft soles of her brown, suede boots not making a sound as she landed. She continued to free-run across the rooftops, following the mysterious couple through the city.
Are there words for this chapter? If there are, please let me know. Freya and Drakken can't keep their eyes off of each other, they just made friends with Bossk, a shady and probably dangerous person of unknown intent is stalking them, and Drakken apparently shoots like Cad Bane. Oh, and they're currently trying to fins out who this mysterious "Skywalker" is. I leave anything out? Comments please, and I will hopefully have the next chapter up in a couple days. I have to be on set for a show being filmed in the area this weekend, but I will try to find time for my story and for all of you. So until next time my loyal readers, Cheerio!