Happy Star Wars Day, everyone! To celebrate the holiday of our beloved franchise, I am gifting you all not one, but two chapters today! Then I'm off to prepare for my annual Star Wars dinner. If any of you happen to be in the Outer Rim next year, stop in and eat with us. But for now, let's blast right back into the story. Enjoy!

Freya sat on the bench inside the belly of the shuttle. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and she had her arms wrapped around her legs as she stared into nothingness. She tried desperately to make sense of everything that had happened on Mimban, but her mind didn't want to work, didn't want to even recall anything that had happened following them landing on the wretched planet. Part of her still felt like she was laying on the cold floor of that basement room, struggling to breathe while Lord Vader stood over her.

The image was burned into her brain…a flash of red light, and that little girl's head flying from her body. The sensation of being hurled against the wall, unable to breathe as the dark lord slowly throttled the life from her with his evil magic. She'd wanted to cry out for Drakken. She'd wanted to beg, but there was nothing but the panic of dying and the pain of choking. Then he had promoted her. Promoted her, after almost killing her. It was all so surreal, like a twisted nightmare with no roots in reality, but it had happened, and Freya couldn't will herself into functioning with the knowledge that she was part of something like this…

"Ensign Thorne…" Daraay called from beside her. Freya didn't answer. The Death Trooper watched the young officer rock back and forth gently, her red-rimmed eyes locked onto the opposite wall. Daraay removed her helmet. "Ma'am?" Still no answer. She reached out slowly toward Freya. "Ensign Thorne, are you alright?" Her hand brushed Thorne's shoulder, and she jumped as if she had been hit with electricity, and let out a whimper. The troopers in the compartment as well as Doctor Aphra jerked their heads toward Thorne.

"Oh…wot?" Freya asked tiredly. "S…sorry Daraay…I was…I was thinkin'."

"Are you okay, Ma'am?" Daraay repeated. Freya looked past her, then turned back to the far wall of the bay.

"Aye…yes…I am…yes…" She muttered. Gallen had a worried look as he leaned forward.

"Did something happen ma'am?" He asked. Her eyes went to the sniper for a moment.

"We did well…" She said in a distant voice. "…th' mission was executed adequately…an' wit minimal complications…" She stared forward and rocked softly. "All survivin' pris'sors will be interrogated…yes…the survivors…" The corners of her lips turned up into a sickly smile. "Laird Vader e'en deemed it proper t' promote me to leftennant, 'e did…we musta doon well."

"Congratulations on your promotion, Lieutenant Thorne." Daraay offered. Freya nodded. The members of Delta-7 exchanged worried glances, and Doctor Aphra had heard about enough. She sighed irritably, and got to her feet. She took Thorne by the hand, and forced her to stand, then led her to the small room at the back of the shuttle. They disappeared inside, and the hatch closed.

"What…the…Hell?" Mets commented.

"Was she wounded?" Lago asked. "She didn't get hurt, did she"

"She looked like she's seen a ghost." Gallen added. Felian, ever the professional sergeant, was cleaning the mud from his blaster the entire time.

"Troopers…" He advised in a warning tone. "No scuttlebutt. Leave it." He removed the barrel of his weapon and looked down the tube with a dissatisfied snarl. "That woman is talking to her. She's a doctor. Everything is fine." Daraay looked at the deck, and gently shook her head.

"Spill." Aphra commanded, standing in front of Thorne, who was sitting on her small bed. The young officer started at her feet, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Nothin' t' spill, doctor." She answered coldly. "We accomplish th' perameters of th' mission with due precision an'…"

"Will you stop that garbage?" Chelli shot back. "Cool it with the whole good officer routine, Thorne. I know something's up when you act like one of those braindead functionaries." Thorne looked up at her, and Aphra gave her a sympathetic smile. The doctor sat down beside her. "Something happened, didn't it? Something bad." After a moment, Freya nodded. "None of your team got blasted, and you're still here, so I'm gonna guess that you saw something you didn't want to see." Again, Freya nodded. Aphra put an arm around her, and to her surprise, Thorne grabbed her in a hug and buried her face in the woman's shoulder. She could feel the younger woman sobbing and simply pat her on the back.

"Come on now, whatever it is, you should get it out, right?" Aphra asked gently. Thorne whimpered, then raised her head off of her shoulder.

"Laird Vader…he…" Thorne began, unsure of how to say it. Chelli rolled her eyes. Of course, Vader had done something nasty. That was like talking about the weather.

"What did he do?"

"He killed a kid." Freya stated sadly. "Cut 'er 'ead off with a laser sword right feckin' in front o' me. Oh stars…it was…it was awful. I shouldnae a' said nothin'…no…I shoulda an' I did…an' he started choking me with that black magic o' his. I thought I was good as dead I did." She sobbed again. "Then 'e bloody promoted me." Aphra seemed relatively unphased, and huffed a sigh.

"Yeeahhh…that's Vader alright." The doctor commented. "First time?" Thorne shot her an angry glower.

"Mercen'ry bitch." She said hatefully, her voice cracking. Then she buried her face in Aphra's shoulder again. Chelli sighed and shook her head, then allowed herself to hold the young woman while she cried again. "I dunno if I want this job anymore. I don't want t' be like him…I don't wanna be like you." Freya squeaked.

"You're not, so don't worry your pretty little head about that." Aphra replied. "You're a good person, and you got a good heart. Hell, it's a wonder they let you in the Empire, honest as you are." Thorne looked up at her. "Bet you wished you'd stayed in the outer rim at this point, huh?"

"Well…maybe…sometimes."

"Probably would have been for the better, girly." Doctor Aphra said. "See why I don't get involved in other people's fights? Their motives might not mesh with my…complicated system of morals." That made Freya scoff.

"You nae 'ave no morals." She whimpered. Aphra smiled and shrugged.

"Hey, better to have no morals than bad ones, am I right?" Chelli laughed. "Listen, I know you're all messed up over what happened with Vader back there, but there's nothing you could have done. Nothing."

"But.."

"No buts. He does this kind of thing…all the time. You didn't need to see that either. It's probably gonna scar you for life. You couldn't have stopped that from happening either. But that's not on you. That's on him. Vader killed that kid, not you. And you're still alive Thorne, and you're safe for now." She gave the lieutenant a hug. "It's gonna be alright."

"Will it?" Freya asked dejectedly, breaking the embrace, and sitting upright.

"No." Aphra answered, and Thorne cast an angry look in her direction. "On a long enough timeline, everyone's life expectancy drops to zero."

"Thanks doc…yeah, that's really reassurin'."

"Eh. I'm a realist. But I can tell you that for now, everything's okay. Your team looks really worried about you. That means they like you. That's a good thing, right?" Thorne responded with a nod.

"Aye. They're a good lot." She admitted.

"You have a guy?"

"Neu…aye…I mean I wish I did."

"Sounds like there's a story there." Aphra said. "Come on, girl talk. What's he do?" Freya sighed.

"He's…he's an officer. One of the good ones." She said, unwilling to go deeper than that.

"Oh. And you two don't exactly hit it off?"

"I like him…a lot…" Thorne muttered. "Aye…I guess it's jes that tired ol' cliché."

"Ohhh. You're in love with him, but he acts like you don't exist."

"Something like that." Freya replied tersely.

"Eh, he's an idiot." Aphra said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Then again, most men are. Any guy or gal that wouldn't go for you is a real loser. I mean, look at you." Thorne absentmindedly gave herself a once-over. Her piecemeal uniform and armor was caked in mud and grime. She unfastened her chestplate and dropped it to the floor.

"I look like a right ball a' fugly." Thorne commented.

"Says you." Aphra shot back. "You're gorgeous, you're a badass, and you're a total sweetheart. You're almost unrealistically attractive."

"Really?" Thorne squeaked in surprise.

"I mean, a lot of people probably don't think a chick that tall and skinny is attractive, and some people think freckles are a kiddie thing…and there's the whole thing with your job description…"

"Yeah, I get it." Freya growled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What I'm sayin' is the some of the parts are a little…eh, but the whole Thorne package is like…whoah."

"You're comin' onta me again, aren't ye, doctor?" Freya sighed.

"Maybe a little, but this guy of yours must have blinders on not to see what's in front of him." Chelli gently punched Thorne's shoulder. "You feel any better?"

"I still feel like I jes crawled outta Hell an' carried the fire with me." Thorne sighed.

"Yeah…but did you die?" The adventurer grinned.

"No…no I did not."

"Then chalk it up as a minor victory or whatever. The galaxy still goes on and on, and so do you." Thorne scoffed and smiled a bit.

"Thanks for givin' it to me straight, Aphra." She huffed.

"What can I say? I'm a doctor." Chelli replied. "Now lay down and get some rest. You need it. We have a few hours before we get back to Daiyu."

"Sure…" Thorne breathed. "Yeah…get me up afore we get there, eh?"

"You got it." Aphra nodded, and left the room. She went back to her seat and plopped down.

"Everything alright, doc?" Felian inquired, making a few final wipes on his blaster before stowing it on a ready-rack on the bulkhead.

"Yeah…" Doctor Aphra replied. "She's just a little stressed. I told her to relax and get some sleep. "

"That's good." The sergeant nodded. "I…we, the team and I, wouldn't want anything to happen to Ensign Thorne. She's an outstanding officer."

"I can see that." Aphra stated. "She sure has a knack for coming up with crazy plans, that's for sure."

"She gets that from the old man, I guess." Gallen spoke. "Or maybe they're just two replicants in the same pod when it comes to that." He grinned "Their yoyo plans always work, and the rebs never see it coming."

"This old man…" Aphra began. "I'm guessing he's your normal commanding officer?"

"Yes ma'am." Felian answered. "Commander Tharcourt is an expert on guerilla operations and unconventional warfare. He's the one that put this unit together." The sergeant shrugged. "He's out on a classified mission right now or you'd be able to meet him."

"No offense, but I tend to not get along with most Imps." Aphra said. "Kinda odd, seeing as I work with your leaders sometimes."

"Long as you're not a rebel." Mets shrugged.

"Naw, I'm more of an independent contractor." She returned. "Gal's gotta eat."

"Heard that." Gallen agreed. Aphra thought for a moment, piecing together the information she'd learned about the strange unit.

"Thorne been with the unit from the start?" She asked.

"That's probably classified." Felian stated.

"Well, I mean she already told me that she didn't have many missions under her belt till now. Experienced as you all sound, that means she hasn't been with you guys all that long, right?" Sergeant Felian rolled his brown eyes.

"She joined up a couple of months back." He said vaguely. "The commander moved her into the unit. She was assigned to a…" He cleared his throat. "An undesired position before." Chelli shot a glance about at the troopers. The young stormtrooper was staring at the deck, and kicked lightly at the grating. The sniper looked like he was remembering something dark. The grim-faced medic appeared a little more grim, and looked away. So, Thorne had been involved in something traumatic, and this commander guy had gotten her out and let her onto the team. She smiled a little, like she had just uncovered some amusing conspiracy.

"They dating?" Aphra suddenly asked. The sniper missed the ball he'd been bouncing, and it skipped along the deck. One of the scout troopers coughed.

"No ma'am." Daraay answered stoically. "That would be a breach of protocol." The archaeologist looked around at the soldiers and started laughing.

"You know, if you guys weren't so serious about pretending not to be human beings, it would be sort of funny."

Thorne found herself in a dim corridor. She looked around at the steel walls and dark ceiling. It looked like she was aboard a ship, but she had no idea how she'd gotten here. A chill went down her spine as she got the feeling that she wasn't alone in the unfamiliar space. Her hand went to her belt, but found no blaster...no staff. She looked down. She was wearing her short skirt, her tight gray tank top, knee high sandals, and black gloves. No belt, no weapons.

"Drakken…" She called shakily, and gulped. "Drakken, love?" There was no sound but her voice echoing down the hall. She began to walk. "Hallo…anyone there?" She called again shakily. "Please?" A sound caught her attention, and she froze. It was low and unidentifiable at first, but as it drew closer, Freya's eyes widened. That breathing…

She began to run. She had no idea where she was or where she was running, but Thorne knew she had to get away from him. From that breathing. The soles of her sandals slapped against the durasteel plating of the deck as she ran down hall after hall, rounding corners to find even more corridors leading off into darkness. She sprinted through the maze, her heart pounding as she fled from what may as well be Death incarnate coming for her. Freya stopped to catch her breath, leaning against the wall as she panted. All of a sudden, she heard it…right behind her; kuhhh-kurrrrrr…..kuhhhhh-kurrrrrr….

Freya spun about. The figure was standing in the shadows midway between her and the end of the corridor, it's height and mass nearly blocking out everything behind it. She took a faltering breath and backed away a few steps, her eyes locked onto the dark figure. It beckoned to her, and suddenly, she understood. She realized what it…what he wanted. It didn't want to kill her outright…no, it wanted her to join it, to become part of the darkness. She willed her head into shaking, and backed up a few more steps as it slowly edged closer.

"Nae…nae I woont join ye." She said, her voice coming out as a squeak. "I'll ne'er be like ye…I won't!" She turned and sprinted away, darting down passageway after passageway. She finally found a hatch, and pressed the button, squeezing inside before the door had even fully opened. Inside, she found a room full of people, and as her panicked eyes focused on them, her heart beat even faster.

There were rebels in the room, dressed in everything from uniforms to flight suits. There were civilians, stormtroopers, rebels, even children. Some were in fancy clothing, some were in old worn garments. There were humans, twi'leks, rodians, duros…even a gamorrean. She even spotted a few Imperial officers in their grey uniforms. All of the people were talking with one another jovially, as if they were all old friends. She ran into the throng, and started screaming.

"Help me!" She cried out, but all of the people seemed to not notice her presence. "He's gonna kill me…he's gonna kill the lot of us! You have t' run!" The room full of people paid no attention. An Imperial captain raised a toast to a rebel pilot, children played tag throughout the space, and the gamorrean laughed at a joke told by a twi'lek dancer girl. "Please…ye 'ave to listen…" She was cut off by the sound of breathing. Freya slowly and fearfully turned back to the hatch, but suddenly the room went dark. A red shaft of light shot forth with a hum, and her ears were filled with the sound of screaming as the dark wraith cut down all of the people around her.

"Stop it!" She wailed. "Fer pity's sake…stop it!" She stumbled back against a wall, and closed her eyes tightly. The thrumming buzz of the laser sword stopped, and she opened her eyes to a grizzly spectacle. The walls were covered in blood. All of the people were now in pieces on the floor around her, and she staggered forward, feeling bile rise in her throat. She raised her right hand to find something in it. She looked down. It was the silver hilt of the laser sword. "NOOO!" Freya shrieked, and threw the weapon across the room. She bolted from the chamber, back into the hallway, and ran. She ran until her lungs were about to burst, the sound of breathing echoing off of the walls behind her. Submit. Serve. Join or die.

Freya turned a corner, and slipped in something viscous and soft. She let out a mortified groan. The floor was coated in blood. So were the walls. She ran on, escaping the evil shade the only thing on her mind as she pressed forward down the blood-soaked passage. The floor grew stickier, and the smell of death grew more acute. She saw something on the floor. A human head. Then an arm. Tears poured down her cheeks as she realized that the hallway was full of corpses and body parts. The ground gave way, and Freya found herself plunging down into a liquid pool of blood and ghastly carnage. She struggled to get out, to swim, to crawl, but the pool of blood pulled her deeper. Up to her chest in the gore, Thorne heard the dark figure approach. It stopped just behind her. She let out a sob, and stopped fighting.

"I…I won't jine ye." She quaked. "Chan fad olc cron a deanam air cridhe math…I won't be as ye…" She felt a tightening in her throat, and struggled to take a breath. "N…nae…" She choked out, then gasped, forcing air in before her windpipe closed off even more. "Dr…Drakken…me l…love…" She rasped. "Mothah…Datty…" She didn't want to die, to leave Drakken. The pain was terrible, and the shade of death was terrifying. "I'll…do as…ye want…I'll sssserve…" She strained out. "Please…" Her throat felt even tighter than before. It was too late! "I'll follah…m…master…" She felt her neck being squeezed taught, and her head throbbed. Her eyes rolled back, and she knew the end was coming. With a final clench of the dark power's grip, her neck snapped…

"NO!" Freya screamed, bolting upright on the small bed, her blaster pistol pointed at Doctor Aphra, who was standing in the doorway. The dark-haired woman looked more disappointed than frightened, and let out a sigh.

"Night terrors, huh?" Chelli scoffed, and shook her head. "What a bitch." Thorne tossed the blaster onto the bed and rubbed her neck. She could see Felian and Daraay peering past Aphra into the room. She cleared her throat.

"I'm a'right, sergeants…" Freya said. "Jes a lil' nightmare." The scout nodded as if not entirely convinced, and the two troopers disappeared back into the bay of the shuttle.

"You sounded like you were choking on a porg bone there." The doctor said softly. "Sure you're alright, girly?"

"Aye…I'm fine. Must have been dreamin' about bein' thirsty…" She lied.

"Uh-huh…" Aphra sounded. "Well, we're almost to Daiyu. You said to wake you up…"

"I did that…" Thorne nodded, and found a bottle of water. She drained the entire thing. "Aye…I'll be getting' dressed."

"Need some help?" Chelli offered. Freya huffed.

"Nae I need no 'elp from ye! Get oot a' me room!" Thorne exclaimed. Aphra chuckled, and left the small space, shutting the hatch behind her. Freya climbed out of bed, and looked at her reflection in a small mirror hung from the cramped bulkhead. "Och. I'm a mess…" She commented. She thought about her nightmare, and fell back onto the bunk. She buried her face in her hands.

"Come hame, Drakken…" She whispered into her hands. "I need ye…"

The shuttle landed outside of the 'Grand Daimyo's Palace Hotel, and Freya stepped off onto the planet's surface. She took a breath of fresh air to calm her nerves. Behind her, the rest of Delta-7 piled down the loading ramp. They were all filthy, some worse than her, and she had promised that they could spend eight standard hours in the hotel to clean up and get a meal before they returned to The Executor. There was a precedent for it in the rule book; something about officers being allowed a day to freshen up, get a clean uniform and make themselves presentable for inspection after a mission in the field. That was her official excuse, and she was sticking to it. In truth, she needed a little more time before she went back and faced Vader.

"Alright troopers," She called. "Ye know the deal. Eight hours. Sleep, shower, shave and eat. Then it's back on the ship an' we're off hame."

"Yes ma'am." Felian and Daraay returned.

"An' clean yer weapons an' armor, troopers." She added. "I wanna see meself in yer chesplates tomorrah mornin'." She watched them walk into the hotel, and then let herself wilt a little, and leaned on the hydraulic arm of the ramp.

"Tough bein' boss-lady, isn't it?" Aphra asked, walking casually down the metal incline of the ramp.

"Nae…jus reg'lations an' tryin' t' have all the answers." Freya returned. "Tis the paperwork wot kills ye." She thought for a moment. "An' sometimes yer superiors."

"Well…come on." Aphra said encouragingly, putting an arm around Freya's shoulders. "You need a good meal and a shower. Might I suggest taking a shower first though?"

"Aye…" Thorne sighed. "I need one fer sure. And t' spiffy up me uniform before I head back…" She shook her head. "Dunno if I can eat right now though."

"Well then, how about we get a drink?" At that, Thorne's head perked up a little.

"I dunno…"

"I'll buy the first round..." Doctor Aphra offered. Freya smirked.

"Bring th' feckin' shots."

…..

"I'll tell ye ein thing fer sure an' fer certain…" Thorne declared, pointing a finger at Aphra across the small table. "If I'm t' be goin' oop in th' bleedin' ranks…if I go an' make general, there be some changes gonna be made, ye 'ear me words." On the table in front of her was a nearly empty bottle of spirits, three empty mugs of ale, and her free hand was resting on a shot glass full of brown liquid. Aphra raised an eyebrow. Thorne's cheeks were rosy pink, and the young woman had consumed ten shots of liquor, and four pints of ale. The doctor was astounded that she was still able to speak semi-coherantly, though she kept breaking into her native slang at odd times.

"Oh? And what's that, praytell?" Chelli asked, goading her on.

"This 'ole marshin aboot, killin' an' a burnin' thing is neigh well goot a' stop…aye, ye watch it when some blotter knows his tatties comes in an puts a kibosh on the feckin' thing…gies ol' Vader an' 'is ilk the boot. Right outwith in th' dreich close where the reprobates b'long." The young woman punctuated her sermon by turning up the shot glass and slamming it, empty on the table.

"Thorne…you're drunk." Aphra grinned.

"Aye, an wot of it, ye posh lil' buftie?" Freya said back.

"It's kind of funny."

"I know I turn intae a silly lil' numpty wen I get blootered." Thorne grinned. "Me maw'd ave me behookie scalded wit a willa switch right now." She let out a braying laugh, followed by a snort.

"Ouch." Chelli remarked with a chuckle, and took a long swig of her ale. Thorne examined her empty mugs, and held one up demandingly, shaking it from side to side. A few moments later, a twi'lek barmaid came over with two more fresh glasses, and placed them on the table.

"Thank ye, lassie…yer a lifesaver." Thorne commented, slapping two credits into the server's hand. The green-skinned woman smiled and walked away. "Salt o' the universe that lady." The lieutenant commented. She flipped her long, red hair outside of her chair for the fifteenth time that evening. "Think she's got a good fella at home?" She frowned. "Ought t', she's awful nice."

"Damn…you have it bad, Freya." Aphra said, and took a drink of her new ale. She poured a shot and downed it quickly. "You really want that commander guy, don't you?" Thorne suddenly sat up straight and slammed an empty shot glass on the table.

"Ye damned right I do, doc!" She exclaimed. "An' dinnae I have e'ery right ta' ache an' pine after 'im? He saved me worthless life. Drakken treats all aroun' 'im like lords, an' me like a princess. He's the greatest o' men ye'll e'er lay yer pretty eyes on, an' I love that bonnie kriffin man!" She slumped down on the table, melancholy overtaking her. "I love 'im, Chelli…more'n I's can stand."

"Hey…Freya…" Aphra said softly, reaching over and patting her hand. "It's okay…"

"Will ye stoop sayin that, fer feck's sake?" Thorne charged. "In the last three days, I been put over a unit I don't know 'ow t' run, I been swimmin' in muck, killin' rebels that were actually nice blokes yeknow, an' I saw a poor lil' lass get murdered in front a' me eyes. I was throttled aff t' death by a magic-usin' man in a scary black suit…" She looked up angrily. "Who jes 'appens t' be me boss…then I was promoted to a rank I don't know 'ow to fit intae. An 'ere I sit…" She gestured around her. "…broken hearted. Without Drakken…rat-arsed drunk like a fool with me only mate at the moment…" She looked at Aphra again. "It's not bloody okay." Chelli took another drink of her ale, and placed a few credits on the table.

"Let's get you to your room, lieutenant." She said, and started to help Thorne up.

"Nae, ye wait a minute!" Freya interjected. "It's a crim'nal offence wot t' be wastin ale like thish!" She grabbed her mug and drained it all without coming up for air.

"Holy farkle, you can put it away."

"We breed a tough ol' brood out on Breoh'Lar." Thorne stated dogmatically. She then gestured toward the exit. "Hame, me good doctor!" Aphra helped Freya into her room, and sat her on the bed. She turned to leave, but the Breohan girl caught her arm.

"Waaaiit…" Freya whined. "Don't leave me alone jes yet…please?" Chelli sat down beside her.

"Sure…what's up?" The treasure hunter queried. Freya wrapped her arms around Aphra.

"I dun wanna be alone right now…" Thorne whimpered. "I'm jes gonna have another dream."

"Oh for kriff's sake…" Aphra sighed, and shook her head. She put an arm around Thorne.

"What you think he's doin' right now?" The inebriated young woman asked. "What's Drakken up tae? Oh stars, I hope he's alright…"

"Shh…I'm sure he is, sweetie. He sounds like a hell of a soldier."

"Ye bet yer boots he is!" Thorne said in a louder tone, then dropped back to a whisper. "He'll come back. He'll come back, an' e'erything will be okay…I jes know it."

"Sure…"

"Oh no! I hope that awful woman isn't tryin' t' get him abed…the little trollip!" She sighed. "Some quinie slag he's workin' with. She fancies 'im she does. An' they're alone t'gether doin' who knows what…awwww Ballacks!" Chelli was almost thrown from the bed as Freya shook her entire body with the outburst.

"Chill…out…Freya." Aphra said. "You're drunk off your ass and going on about a man who's half a galaxy away that's never gave you the benefit of a good kriffing. As scared of commitment as he sounds, the other bitch is probably pulling her hair out trying to get a date out of him." Thorne giggled a little.

"Ah yeah…sounds like him." She muttered. "I ain't…"

"What?"

"I ain't obsessing o'er 'im."

"Yes you are."

"Nuh-uh." Freya shot back childishly.

"You literally just started an argument about you not obsessing over him."

"Och, so?"

"Geez…he your first crush or something?"

"Aye…he really is."

"Void's balls…" Aphra groaned. "Lay down and get some sleep, will ya?" Freya literally fell back onto the bed, and dragged the doctor with her.

"Only if ye stay here with me." Thorne said softly. "Please?" Aphra smiled.

"Sure."

"Thank you…for everything, Chelli."

"Not sure what I did, but yeah…you're welcome."

"Mmm…" Thorne sounded, snuggling up to her.

"Geez…hm…sure you don't need a little fun?" Aphra joked.

"Oh ye slag…I may be oot me heid drunk, but it'll take more'n bein sweet t' me t' get ye in me pants." Freya slurred. Chelli laughed, and pressed her forehead against Freya's.

"Fine. I'll behave."

"Good." Thorne said wearily. "Jus fer that…I'll gie ye this…" Without warning, she gave Chelli a quick kiss on the lips.

"Wow."

"Ye shut it. I ain't no flamer." Freya mumbled. "Oo…room's spinnin." She blew out a breath. "Night doc." Aphra chuckled to herself.

"Good night, lieutenant."

Editing that last part had me laughing, and I'm the one who wrote the thing. Thorne drunk is an entertaining experience anytime it happens. Hope you all liked this chapter. New one coming up in a moment, so I must run. Catch you in a moment!