Hello everyone. I thought I'd get another chapter out before I end up too busy to post. In the next week, I have content to film, a sideshow to pack and a venue to set up at. Needless to say I'll not have much time to work on this fic until early next week. So until then, here is a chapter just chock full of fluff and filler, for all your reading needs. Enjoy!
Freya watched Drakken working at his desk. He hadn't said much today, and he seemed to be fully involved in and fully irritated with his work. To be fair, she didn't have much experience with the man in his normal setting. It seemed that every time she had spent time with him up until now, he was either consoling her, eating a meal with her or they were training together. Other than that, she'd only seen him on an actual mission twice, and both had been kind of emotional events. The young woman made a sour face, hoping that he wasn't always this gloomy, or that he wasn't still stewing about something from the last few days.
"So…" She began, "Ye say we're getting' a right proper mission in the next couple days, eh?"
"Planning it." Tharcourt grumbled. "Hopefully…something damned…proper about it…" He added in an almost inaudible mutter.
"Where is it we're supposed to be goin' again?" Freya asked, trying to drum up conversation with her friend. He let out a loud sigh.
"All I know is that it's somewhere in the Southern reaches of the Outer Rim, Freya." He said a little too irritable for her taste. "They didn't even tell me at the briefing, for Kriff's sake. I'll be told when they give the green-light…standby…ugh. How the Hell am I supposed to plan a mission if I have no idea what the terrain is? What weather…indigenous life. Damn it."
"I'm sure it'll work out fer th' good, Drakken…" She tried to cheer him up.
"Well, I can't make war on well-wishes, Freya." Drakken said back, making her jut out her lower lip in a pout. Drakken immediately felt bad for unloading on her like that.
"Ballocks. Who put vinegar in yer whiskey, Drakken?" Freya asked sharply. "I'm a jes askin' ye aboot our new assignment, fer pity's sake."
"Ugh…" Drakken groaned. "Sorry, Freya. Just a lot on my mind. I'm peeved about having to move everything to a new ship for no good damn reason. And we have an upcoming mission, given to us by who the Hell knows, passed down through the infinite bowels of command through people I never Kriffin' heard of." Freya rested her head on a hand and simply nodded consolingly as he continued. "All I know is that it's a Hunter/Killer. Great crickin' joy, huh?"
"Well, at least ye'll be on that big, gran' ol' ship with yer friend Captain Piett." Thorne offered. "An' I get to go on me first mission with you. I'm kinda happy about that one."
"You're crazy." Drakken stated blandly, pointing a finger at her. Freya couldn't help but giggle a bit. She had to find something to drag him out of the doldrums he'd been in for the last two days. She was beginning to get a little concerned for him. Drakken had been somewhat irritable, and seemed to be under a lot of stress. It was likely because of the upcoming restationing of his unit, but Freya couldn't help but feel like there was something else.
Since they had returned from her quarters, they had hugged precisely once, and that had been shortly after they had gotten back and he had set her up for the night in his bunkroom. He had been genial and friendly to her, but he seemed to be distancing himself from any physical contact. She hoped that the incident in her old room hadn't soured things between them, or caused him any grief. At the very least, Thorne reasoned that whatever was bothering him would soon come to light, and she would be there for him every step of the way. She went back to the long list in front of her.
"Alright…" Freya said, checking off a few more things on her tablet. "All arms, equipment an' gear is accounted for, commander…sir." She said. He gave her a blank look for the honorifics, then narrowed his eyes.
"Wait…already?"
"Aye. I took me tally this morning before breakfast. Figured I ought ta' get it done an' over with." She answered cheerily. Tharcourt blinked a few times.
"Wow." He voiced. "Would have taken me three days." He grunted. "I hate clerical work."
"Well you 'ave a proper ensign now to do that sorta thing." Thorne replied. "I don't mind doin' yer office work an' keepin' ye supplied with gogo juice. I could e'en tidy up this hovel in no time."
"Now don't you get too comfortable with that mindset." Drakken warned. "I can take care of myself. You assist me. Assist. You aren't my damned maid or servant, and I won't have you acting like it." Freya gave an unhappy snort. "Sorry…I just don't want to feel like I'm using you…and I don't want you to feel like I am either." She nodded softly, understanding his wariness of that subject all too well.
"I'm alright now, Drakken." She said in a low voice. "Ye can let go a' all that." She saw his eyes move from side to side in thought. "But are you okay?" He looked up at her.
"What do you mean?" He asked far too quickly.
"I jes think maybe…" She was interrupted by the chime sounding to indicate that someone was being admitted to the team's area.
"Commander, a supply officer Gottley is here to see you." Mets' voice advised over the comms speaker on Tharcourt's desk.
"Oh, what fresh Hell is this?!" He griped, standing from his chair. "Thorne, take over the throne. See if you can't make heads or tails out of these orders." Freya slid past Drakken and sat at his desk as he left his office, leaving the door to the commons area open behind him. She leaned over the desk and peered out curiously to see a young officer in a black uniform standing in the room with a datapad in one hand and a bored expression on his face as Tharcourt approached him.
"I have a delivery here for a Commander Tharcourt…commander of Delta-7 Group." The officer said, looking at his datapad as Drakken neared. "Are you the commander?"
"Yes, I'm Tharcourt." Drakken stated curiously, his arms folded behind him. "What kind of delivery?" The young lieutenant looked down at his datapad a moment.
"Seems to be your new armor and equipment, commander." He answered rotely.
"New…armor?" Drakken nearly exclaimed. "We didn't order any new armor." The supply officer looked annoyed.
"Well, it is, sir…and it is addressed to you." Tharcourt sighed angrily.
"Alright. What and how much are we getting?" The commander asked defeatedly.
"Four standard one-by-one-by-two meter cases, commander." The lieutenant stated. Tharcourt almost choked on air.
"What in the living nexus of Hell are we going to do with four cases of armor?!" He complained to nobody in particular. He was about to go on a rant when he was interrupted.
"You 'ave an incoming message, C'mander." Freya called from the office. "Sounds important."
"Wait here." Tharcourt turned from the supply officer and entered his office. Thorne relinquished the chair behind the desk to Drakken, and he sat down, pressing the button on the comms set as he did. The holograph of an officer wearing a major's insignia appeared.
"Commander Tharcourt, major." Drakken greeted. "How can I help you?"
"I am Major Admani, commander. I have been placed in command of Imperial Navy Special Forces."
"Yes sir." Tharcourt said in acknowledgement. "What happened to Rear Admiral Betrosi?"
"He made the unfortunate mistake of disappointing Lord Vader, commander." Admani said grimly. "Vader has now appointed me to Betrosi's position, and I do not plan on failing as he did. Unlike the Admiral, I am a combat officer, and plan on running Special Forces accordingly." Tharcourt listened to his speech indifferently. Yet another officer making yet more proclamations. It was doubtful Delta-7's mission or procedures would change very much regardless of who was in charge. "Have you gotten the delivery, commander?"
"Delivery?" Tharcourt questioned. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "The uniforms? Yes sir…the supply officer is here now."
"Very well." Admani said. "Your unit is hereby authorized to wear the new armor, and to make modifications to your existing uniforms and armor in accordance with INSF allowances. We look forward to your redeployment onboard the ISSD Executor in three days. That is all for now."
"Thank you, sir." Tharcourt stated rotely. "I and my team look forward to serving under you." The hologram shut off, and Drakken looked up at Freya with a bored expression. "Well ensign? You want to go sign for all of the new gear?"
"Sure." She answered. "What are ye bein' sech a crabbit ol' sourpuss fer anyway? I'm personally curious as t' what kind of shiny new gewgaws they sent." She left the office to sign for the shipment of probably mostly useless armor. Mostly, because he was sure they could probably pick through the new stuff and find a few good pieces. It all seemed like an expensive concerted effort on the new SF commander's part to look like he was doing something worthwhile. After a few moments, Drakken stood and walked back into the commons room, where the supply officer was talking to Freya. He looked up at the commander and nodded.
"The cases are in the hangar, sir. I'll have them here momentarily." He said before turning and leaving the room.
"What's being delivered, sir?" Gallen asked, stepping from the team's bunk room and looking about curiously.
"Our…new armor, I suppose." Tharcourt answered. "It looks like we get new kits, Gallen. Best tell everyone." By the time all members of Delta-7 were crowded into the room, so were four large shipping crates bearing the Imperial Cog. The commander glanced around the room at his men. Aside from Daraay, Felian and Dall, these professional and elite soldiers were acting like children waiting to tear open holiday gifts. He shook his head and scoffed.
"Alright, alright…you troopers dig in. See what new toys you have to play with." Within moments, all four of the crates were opened, and the soldiers of Delta-7 were pulling out chest-plates, helmets, boots, gloves, and belts like a bunch of scavenger beasts who found a carcass. All of the new armor was similar to their old, just in a matte black color, and the troopers were over the moon about that alone. Gallen made jokes about them all being promoted to shadowtroopers now, and Mets seemed disappointed when Coleth told him that no, he wasn't as intimidating as Daraay in his new black bucket.
As the team rifled through the new gear, they read the ID numbers on the pieces, and switched out items for the correct ones. Sometimes, they would give an item to the troopers who weren't quite as ecstatic about the new gear, handing a helmet to Dall, a chest-plate to Felian, new upper leg guards to Daraay and so on, until the crates were mostly empty. Then they sat about, curiously examining the oddly small pile of armor in front of each of them.
"Huh…" Lago sounded, looking at his new gear. "It doesn't look like a full set."
"Same here." Mets commented. "Maybe…missing a few pieces?" Ekks looked up from admiring his new modified TIE pilot helmet long enough to shrug.
"No." Daraay stated, noting that her own set of new armor lacked the back pieces of the upper-arm guards, and the leg armor only consisted of the upper front guards. "This is the prototype armor developed for elite units. It is stripped down to allow for comfort and better agility in combat." She picked up her new chest-plate and rapped her knuckles against it a few times. "It's designed to be somewhat more resistant to direct blaster fire as well."
"Oh…wow." Coleth remarked. He tried on his new black scout helmet. "Hey! This thing has some seriously upgraded tech!" He exclaimed, activating the helmet's electronic goodies. "Better HUD…environmental sound amplification…infrared?!" He pulled off the helmet and looked it over. "Wizard!"
"Ooohoohoo…mine's got that stuff too." Ekks stated proudly, wearing his pilot helmet. "I like it."
"Um…don't we be gettin' new stuff too?" Freya asked in a slightly disappointed tone.
"Well…we're officers." Tharcourt explained. "We generally have to special order our armor and whatnot."
"You can have my old helmet, ma'am." Gallen offered, holding up his new Imperial Army Trooper helmet, painted in a black and smokey-gray camouflage pattern. "I got this one now. Take my old armored chest plate too. It's in good shape, only picked up one bolt." He grinned cynically at his commander.
"Oh…oh, thank ye, trooper!" She said happily. She turned to Drakken. "Can we try everything on?" At that, several of the troopers shot him hopeful looks. He raised an eyebrow. "Well…ye know, I figure everyone should try an' break in their new gear an' all…" He gave her a smile. He understood all too well. It was a break from monotony, something new and exciting. He put on his best impression of a proper military officer and cleared his throat.
"Oh, very well. Everyone go get kitted up. We meet in the training hall in one hour. You want to break your new gear in, well let's do it right." That was all Delta-7 needed to hear. Most of them quickly disappeared from the room. Felian let out an exasperated sigh, collected his new armor, gave Tharcourt a half-amused smirk and shook his head, and he too left to get changed. The commander looked at Freya, who was standing there if awaiting permission.
"Should I…" She ventured.
"Go on, Freya." Drakken said with a smile. She grinned and left to find Gallen to get her own armor. Tharcourt had as he sometimes described it 'remembered that he'd forgotten to remember' something, and left the office. He walked down the hall to the supply and requisition office, glad that it was only a couple of blocks down from his area. He entered the room and waited behind a lieutenant, who was picking up a new uniform. Once the other man's transaction was completed, Tharcourt stepped forward.
"Can I help you, commander?" The captain behind the window asked.
"Yes, I would like a pair of gloves." He answered. "Female officer…size medium…and what are the nicest ones you have?"
"Hm. Buying a gift for an associate, I'm taking it?" The supply officer inquired. "Good show, sir. Um…sergeant?" An orderly approached from the rows of shelving behind the captain. "Go to the officer's gloves. See if we have a couple pair of those special deluxe dress gloves left in female medium."
"Yes sir." The sergeant replied, and disappeared back into the storage area.
"You're Commander Tharcourt, are you not?" The captain asked in the interim.
"I am."
"You're the special forces commander I've been hearing about. Is it true you and your unit once took out over a hundred rebels with just ten of you?
"Well…" Tharcourt muttered. "It was a little more complicated than that." He said.
"They say that you people are the best in the Empire." The captain continued. "You're becoming a bit of a legend on The Accuser, sir. There's talk that you assassinated a rebel general in his own headquarters, and that your team singlehandedly held the rebel base on Yavin-4 under heavy fire for four hours until backup arrived." Commander Tharcourt scoffed.
"The fire wasn't that heavy as I recollect." He returned. Drakken hated these kinds of stories. They certainly gave Imperial soldiers a morale boost, making them feel that they had a legion of unconquerable warriors behind them, but he felt that stories like that could lead to this kind of stupid hero-worship. If not tempered with rationality, myths could lead to reckless acts and a false sense of invulnerability. That, and he detested being the center of overenthusiastic war stories. If he did something right in battle, he hoped others would learn from his successes and failures, not make up ridiculous tales of his inhuman martial prowess. It cheapened the abilities of other soldiers to do such things.
"Well regardless, I can say that you have certainly have amassed your fans and followers onboard, commander." The captain stated. "I sometimes wish I could be out there fighting the good fight. It gets a bit dull in supply, as you may well guess."
"Not at all, captain." Tharcourt countered. "What would the Imperial Navy be without good supply officers? You can't fight the enemy without blasters, uniforms, food…" He shrugged. "What is it, five logistics troops to every one soldier?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"It's a well-oiled machine, and every part is necessary. I would dare say that quartermasters are the unsung heroes of the military." Tharcourt offered. That seemed to appease the captain.
"Well…I never thought of it that way." The supply officer said. Just then the sergeant returned with three pair of gloves and sat them on the counter in front of the captain. "Ah. These may be what you are looking for." He slid them through the large window, and Drakken began looking them over. "They're regulation, but of the highest-grade leather available. Feel how soft they are?"
"Mm." Tharcourt responded like someone assessing a used starship someone was trying to sell.
"Made of rare Sullust leather. Long-wearing stuff, and comfortable. They make clothes out of it. These are a special run, and to be honest, it's usually only high-ranking types that buy them. You know, admirals and moffs and whatnot."
"How much?" Tharcourt asked, skipping to the haggle phase.
"Ohh…I don't know…" The captain dallied. "These are the last of the run. Been sitting here for months now. I could give you a discount…"
"And what would that discount consist of?" Drakken asked suspiciously.
"Well, they should sell for two-hundred credits a pair." The captain explained. Drakken whistled. "But I'm allowed to clearance out things that aren't selling. Your unit happen to have those commemorative coins some have made?" Tharcourt smirked. He pulled out a two-inch silver coin with the Delta-7 seal on one side and the Imperial Cog on the other. He held it up to the supply officer.
"Like this?"
"Yes, just like that." The captain answered. "I tell you what, commander…having a coin from a famous unit like yours…I think I could sell these to you for…let's say a hundred and twenty a pair."
"How about a hundred and eighty for two pair?" Drakken countered.
"I might get in trouble for that, now…" The captain bluffed. "Two-twenty-five."
"I don't like odd numbers." Tharcourt stated with a slight grin. "Two even."
"Done."
Tharcourt returned to his office two hundred credits and one unit coin poorer, with the two pair of gloves in a small box. He hid them away in his office, and quickly donned his armored breastplate and combat helmet. He took his extra holster and blaster and strapped it to his left leg. By the time Drakken stepped out of his office, Ekks, Gallen and Mets were already coming into the commons-room in their new armor. The new appearance of his troopers was more striking than he'd imagined. The dull black armor over their black jumpsuits gave them a uniquely dark and spectral presence. It was like looking at a holoimage with the colors inverted, and he imagined that to the enemy, used to seeing the glistening white armor of Imperial soldiers, the sight of his men in their shadow-black gear would be unsettling and even intimidating. An added bonus would be their newfound ability to blend into the night and darker terrains much better.
"How do I look, sir?" Ekks asked, noticing the commander standing there studying them. Tharcourt smiled a little.
"Terrifyingly efficient, trooper." He answered. At that moment, Sergeant Daraay entered the room, clad in her new vestments. Her armor was the most markedly different from her old. Gone was the full-body plastoid armor suit. Now she wore tall black boots like Tharcourt's and thigh armor of the same matte black hue as her contemporaries. The midriff armor was replaced with a wide belt, bedecked with ammunition and grenade pouches, with a short black leatherette skirting. Her chestplate and helmet were like her old, only in a duller black, and her upper and lower arms had smaller plates over the tops only, terminating in black gloves with durasteel knuckles. She looked around the room.
"What do you think of your new armor, sergeant?" The commander asked.
"It's…different, sir." Daraay returned. "I can move a good deal better."
"Drakken, Drakken!" Freya chirped, bounding happily into the room in Gallen's old chestplate and helmet. She skipped up to him, and noticed his expression. "Ach…I mean C'mander…sir." He had to stifle a grin.
"Yes, Thorne?" He asked in an amused tone. She leaned forward with a pleased grin.
"First time I e'er wore armor!" She stated in an excited whisper. Gallen snickered. Drakken smiled.
"Well, my dear ensign, let's see how well you fight in it." He replied.
Doesn't it feel so good to finally see Freya as a member of the team after all that's happened? I don't think they've ever been happier. We'll just have to see how things go for them once they get their first mission together. Will Freya be able to handle all of the danger and adventure that she's longed for? I'll have another chapter up as soon as I'm able, so bear with me. Until then, please leave me your comments and questions. Reader reviews have been poor lately, and it doesn't take but a few moments to let me know how well you're enjoying the story. Until next time, Cheerio!