Sorry I haven't updated in a few days. I've had much going on to distract me from something even so beloved as this story. Not all good, I must admit, and I've had to practically invoke the Tarkin Doctrine on some elements of my life to maintain order in it. But here I am, back with another chapter, submitted for your approval, fine readers. I've been away from this site for a couple of years, and I am rather shocked to see how little stories are read and reviewed now. Back in my day...okay, we won't go there. I have been writing on here since the mid 2000's though. Maybe this is just a dud of a story. Regardless, I'll keep posting. Somebody's bound to like it at some point. Heheh. So enjoy the latest installment, dear readers.
Tharcourt and Thorne quietly walked down the corridor, away from the training hall. It was a long trek to the mess hall, and it was unspoken that neither one of them really minded the stroll together. Thorne was more than happy to be in the company of the commander. She felt oddly at home walking alongside him, and though she had only met him thirty minutes earlier, she started to wish that this were an everyday thing. If she had been assigned as this Commander Tharcourt's ensign, she believed that she would be more than happy in the military right now instead of miserable beyond all rational words. She couldn't believe her rotten luck. She could have ended up with someone like this officer she walked beside. That would've been grand.
Thorne glanced over at Commander Tharcourt. His bearing was stern now, almost terrifying. He had his arms crossed behind him, his hands locked over his wrists. His mouth was twisted into an uninterested scowl, and he marched forward like he was on some grim mission, the blaster pistol on his thigh swaying gently back-and-forth as he moved. He was a figure to respect and fear, she thought, and two junior officers stopped in their tracks and saluted him, proving it to the young ensign. This is how she wished that she could be. He was friendly and nice when he needed to be, but this was a true commander, and she would bet her bars on it.
Freya studied his bearing and poise a moment more, and then pulled her cap lower on her forehead. She crossed her arms behind her back like his. She squared her shoulders, and held her head high. Freya glanced over with her eyes to observe Commander Tharcourt's expression for a moment more, raised an eyebrow, and tried to adopt an intimidating frown. She tried to match his gait and rhythm, walking alongside him. They walked in silence like this for a few seconds.
"What are you doing?" Tharcourt queried, casting Thorne an amused grin. She blushed a little, and relaxed her posture, returning to her normal bearing.
"Jes'…nothin' sir…" She stammered. Tharcourt chuckled.
"The severe old officer routine is my thing." He jested. "It keeps other officers from irritating me…but don't tell anyone." Thorne grinned.
"Yes…sir." She stated in a mock-serious tone. Drakken lightly shook his head. The Ensign was certainly feeling a little better. What seemed to be her true personality was surfacing, and he thought it all kind of endearing. She was a genuinely good person, a rare thing in the Imperial military. She certainly had the ability to act like an officer, and would definitely do well in a combat command role, given her fighting ability and her fiery but disciplined demeanor. Unlike many combat officers though, she was not only tough, but unquestionably possessive of a level of kindness that would likely make soldiers want to fight beside her. Her only oddity was that on top of her compassion and sharpness, he could also now see a playful streak. She was certainly an individualist, if her strange outfit didn't reveal that on its own. Speaking of which…
"I noticed your accent and all. So where are you from?" Tharcourt asked.
"Breoh'Lar, sir." Thorne answered.
"Hm. Breoh'Lar… I've never heard of it. Is that in the Outer Rim?"
"Well…yes sir…" She sighed. Freya knew what was coming next. Every time someone had found out she was from the Outer Rim, they would immediately make some insulting comment about that region of the galaxy or the people from it.
"What is it like?" Tharcourt asked next, catching Thorne off-guard. "Your homeworld?" Nobody had ever asked her that. She was almost speechless for a moment.
"Oh…it's very…green." She stated. "I mean to say…" She thought of home. "They're huge meadows of grass, an' deep forests…" She pictured it all in her mind. "We 'ave rocky coasts just…plungin' out into the clearest, bluest ocean ye can imagine. Dark moor lands, covered in fog at night under a grand blue moon. Ever-where else is been is so strange…heh…or maybe Breoh'Lar is just strange. We live with our world, you know what I mean? Ye can drink outta most of th' streams, and everything seems so…alive." She smiled, remembering her home.
"It sounds…really pretty." The commander mused. "It sort of reminds me of…where I'm from." He allowed himself to remember a world he had not seen in two decades. "An ocean…washing upon miles of sandy beaches…great forests of tall trees. Wake up in the morning, and the mist would be on top of the mountains until the sun burned it off. It um…it was a nice place." He sighed. "I used to play in the woods all day when I was a kid."
"It sounds lovely." She replied, then paused. "Wait…what did you mean it was nice?" She cocked her head. "What happened?"
"War." Tharcourt stated grimly.
"I'm…I'm so sorry, sir." Thorned muttered.
"Yeah." He decided to change the subject. "And the Empire allowed you the um…" He motioned with his head to her outfit. "Modified uniform?"
"Aye sir." She answered. "It was on what they called a 'cultural exemption', I think. Pert o' me people's dress."
"I've seen a couple exemptions made before. Not many, but a few." Tharcourt explained. "Mostly warrior races brought into the empire…like yours, no doubt." He raised an eyebrow. "Ever see a Togruta stormtrooper?" Thorne made a very undignified snort as she tried to suppress a laugh. A passing lieutenant glowered, and Tharcourt corrected him with an intense stare.
"No!" Freya answered, bewildered, trying to imagine such a thing.
"Well, there was only one." Tharcourt stated. He jutted a finger toward her, trying to seem serious. "And I need not describe it to you." Thorne grimaced, holding back laughter. They entered a turbolift which already contained two stormtroopers. Following protocol, both of the officers stood 'at ease' with their arms folded behind them, not saying a word until they had gotten off at their floor. They continued on toward their destination.
"How do you like working in the brig, Thorne?" Tharcourt asked.
"Oh…I only go down t' the detention level ev'ry now an' again." She answered truthfully. "Usually t' catalogue equipment or bring something t' Captain Rallis." She sighed. "It'd be alright I guess if she trusted me enough t' take charge of a pris'ner transfer or pull guard duty. T' be honest, I mainly clean and do clerical work."
"Probably don't think you're ready yet." The commander commented. "Give it time, ensign."
"Yes sir…" Freya said in a somber tone. "Captain Rallis is…very strict." She stopped herself. Part of her wanted to tell Commander Tharcourt about the insults, the humiliation, the incident with the stun cuffs that made her shudder every time she thought about it. He likely wouldn't believe her. Even if he did, there probably wasn't anything he could do. What was it Rallis had told her once?
"You belong to me, Thorne. You are little more than my property, and I somewhat regret that. Our great Empire issued you to me so that I could try to mold you into a presentable human being who can at least make a pathetic attempt to serve the Emperor. I will do my duty, and you will become a respectable officer, or I will break you in the attempt. If you get some stupid notion that you can run off and find someone to transfer you or help you be lazy, you are mistaken. They will not, so you do not speak of how this department operates to anyone but me, understood?"
"Most officers are." Tharcourt replied. "I am very strict, and expect my people to do their duty, but I usually have good troops who know what to do, without me having to yell at them and threaten them all the time. Fortunately, I'm only harsh when I absolutely have to be. I think that's how being an officer should work." She gave a sad smile, and once again found herself wishing that she were positioned with this Commander Tharcourt…or anywhere else but with Captain Rallis.
They reached the mess hall, which was deserted as predicted. Using his credentials, Commander Tharcourt was able to procure two trays, each heaped with food, and two large cups of water. They found a table in a far corner of the room, and began attacking their lunch. The food itself wasn't much to wax over, merely a hash containing imitation bantha meat, bread with synthesized butter, some type of pudding with fruit suspended in it, and a piece of high-carbohydrate candy. Still, being an officer in Imperial Special Forces not only meant getting to eat anytime one wanted, but getting double rations, so there was plenty. Thorne began practically inhaling her food.
Freya loved food, and after two weeks of missing the occasional breakfast and nearly every lunch, it felt amazing to the young woman to have such a feast. She tore into the meal immediately, shoveling spoonfulls of the hash into her mouth, mixing it with bread and licking butter off of her fork. She looked up to see that Commander Tharcourt had stopped eating, and was staring at her with a comical, questioning smile.
"What?" She asked, her mouth full of bread.
"Where does it all go?" He queried. "You have some sort of matter disrupter inside you somewhere?" Thorne washed her food down with a gulp of her water and motioned with her cup.
"Aye sir. I call it me stomach!" She laughed. "Ne'er underestimate a Breohan lass at the dinner table!"
"Indeed not!" Tharcourt returned mock-seriously. "Those infamous Breohan girls…they can beat you to death with sticks, and have black holes for stomachs!" Freya found herself truly laughing for the first time in weeks. She loved this, getting the kind of friendly banter she thought she'd left back home. She started lightly kicking her legs underneath the table as she finished off her hash and bread, and began devouring the pudding. She took a break from her meal to ask Tharcourt a question.
"Do ye like yer assignment, commander?" He chewed his food and swallowed. "Commandin' a combat unit an' all?" Freya added.
"It's kind of a new assignment, and it's been a lot of work." He responded, intentionally being vague given the classified nature of his job. "But I have to say yes. I love my assignment. I love the chase."
"The…chase?"
"Spent years leading up to this assignment. It becomes like a game…trying to outthink and outmaneuver your enemy. Not the death and the destruction. That's only an unfortunate side effect of two sides willingly playing the game. The real exhilaration comes from trying to stay one step ahead of your opponent."
"I…I get that." Freya commented. She sighed. "I wish I'd been sent to a combat unit instead of…what I got."
"Give it time, Thorne." Tharcourt advised. "You have what, a year or two at most? You'll get promoted, then you could request a combat assignment. Not many officers want those assignments, so you shouldn't have much of a problem."
"Really?"
"Really. Get your promotion and apply. I bet you a hundred credits you'll be in the field within a week." The commander counseled. "And just my opinion, but I think you'll enjoy it…and be good at it." Freya gave a big smile and kicked her feet even harder under the table. She felt confident again, like all the hope that seemed to have drained from her was suddenly restored. She finished her meal, and drained the last of the water from her cup. Tharcourt was still in the process of eating his pudding.
"Mmm. Thank you fer this, commander. Really. I 'aven't 'ad a meal like that in…forever." Thorne commented. Tharcourt thought this odd. Officers, even ensigns and midshipmen usually got three good meals a day, and were allowed to buy extra portions if they wanted to. Some more out-of-shape officers even wasted credits on sweet and salty snacks. Why wouldn't she have had a good meal in so long? Maybe she just didn't know she could buy extra when she wanted it.
"Don't mention it, Ensign Thorne." Tharcourt said cordially. "It was good to have such friendly company at the table. Beats having rats in my office for sure." He picked up his piece of candy and handed to the young woman. "Here, I don't normally eat sweets. You can have it." Thorne blushed a little, and the young ensign gently took the treat between her fingers.
"Thank you…Commander Tharcourt…" She commented, and cleared her throat. He simply nodded and drank the last of his water. She was once again taken aback by someone actually showing her a little humanity, and pushed aside the stupid, short little immature 'girly thoughts' that popped into her head when he had given her the candy. She ate the soft mass of toffy-flavored dessert, and wiped her gloves clean. They stood and returned their trays to the mess hall staff, and exited the cafeteria. There, in the long corridor outside, they shook hands as they prepared to part ways.
"Good luck, ensign." Tharcourt said. "You'll be alright?"
"I…I believe so, sir." She replied, and forced a small smile.
"You're a good officer. Don't forget that."
"Yes sir." She breathed. "And thank you. For everything. You know…talkin' to me and all…" The commander placed a hand on her shoulder.
"It was nothing, Thorne." He stated. "And if you ever need anything…and I mean that…just go to Level 28, the old lounge area down from the training room, and by the main hanger. Ask for me."
"I will, sir." She nodded. This was harder than she thought. Part of her wanted to give the commander a big hug for everything he had done for her, and part of her wanted to beg with him to let her join his unit. All of her knew that she had her place, like it or not. She knew she'd have to go back to work tomorrow. Back to whatever horrors Captain Rallis had waiting on her this time. Would she ever see Commander Tharcourt again? If not, would anyone ever be this nice to her again? She tried to vanquish these thoughts. She had only a year or two, then things would get better. The commander had told her so.
"You okay?" Tharcourt asked, noticing that the young officer was staring into space a few moments.
"Yes…I am sir." Freya answered with a smile. "And commander? Good luck on your own assignment. Try an' have fun." He smiled back.
"I will certainly try." He said. Thorne clicked her heels together, and came to a proper salute. It was about the three-thousandth salute she had given, but it felt like this was the first she had really meant.
"It was an honor, commander." Drakken Tharcourt came to rigid attention, and snapped a salute back.
"Honored, and honor returned, ensign." He replied. He dropped his hand, and she followed, and the two turned, and went their separate ways, Tharcourt storming down the hall in his usual manner.
Not the most exciting of chapters I know, but at least Thorne finally had a good day for once, eh? Never underestimate the power of a random act of kindness in life, folks. Remember that. I will try to get the next chapter up soon, so keep all communication devices tuned in to this frequency, and as always, reviews are welcome. Till next time...cheers! -Drake