Hello, my loyal readers. I'm back...after what must have seemed like an eternity. I know, I know. I promised a new chapter "in a couple of days" like over a week ago. I've had to work on my shop some, catch up on my writing, and admittedly, the weather's been nice, so I've been riding my motorcycle around town. But I'm back, and I've brought you more Drakken and Veruna. So without further ado, let's jump in. Enjoy, everyone!

Drakken awoke, and froze. His face was inches away from Veruna's. He could feel her breath, and smell the woman's scent. Worse yet, her left arm was around his body, and he thought that if he moved it would wake her as well. Not that he cared about disturbing her, but Tharcourt knew that if she opened her eyes while in this position, the first thing out of her mouth would be something lewd and embarrassing. So, he lay silently for a few moments more.

As he tried to concoct a way out of this situation, Drakken couldn't help but feel a tinge of attraction for Zala. He let himself smile a little. She was kind of beautiful in a way. Perhaps more so when she was asleep or not speaking in general, he thought humorously, but watching her sleep, he was almost captivated by her. Zala's flawless skin wasn't just suntanned or synthetically toned, he realized. She had a naturally tan skin, with a slight olive undertone. He wondered to himself what world could produce people with such a gorgeous complexion. What did she say about her family? They were originally from Naboo, right? He wondered if that world were as pretty and chaotic as this woman.

Her eyes were beautiful too, he admitted. He couldn't see them now, of course, but he thought about it nonetheless. Drakken had never met a human with reddish-brown eyes like hers. Whether it was a natural color from her heritage, or some genetic anomaly was anyone's guess, but Drakken mused that it worked for Veruna. It gave her an air of mystery and perhaps made her seem a little intimidating. He imagined now that much of her façade was probably geared toward the latter, and for a woman of only five feet and maybe three inches tall in ISB, she had to make up for a lot when it came to looking threatening.

Last night had proven to him though that as dangerous as Veruna might be, she was also sensitive, even if she tried to hide that fact. He remembered her holding onto him, and her badgering him about his past. She really did care a great deal about him, and he had to accept that she was extremely attracted to him in a genuine way. He just wished that she would show more of the Zala from their deep and serious talks, and less of the vain and immature girl she always acted like. Maybe then…maybe…

He decided against further delving into those thoughts, and pretended to roll over in bed strategically. He gave her time to slip back into a deeper sleep before breaking free from her and climbing out of bed. Drakken stretched, walked tiredly to the caf dispenser, and turned it on. A couple minutes later, he was pouring two cups from the machine into a couple of cheap, disposable cups that had come with the room. He carried them over to the bed and sat his down on the night stand.

"Zala?" He called softly. She let out a low moan and snuggled the blanket a little. "Hey, big, bag Agent Veruna…time to get up." She opened her eyes, and looked up at him.

"Drakken…Nnnugh. What time is it, darling?" She asked tiredly. He checked the timepiece on the stand.

"Oh-eight-thirty" He answered.

"Ugh…nooo…it's waaayyy to early, sweetie." She complained adorably. For some reason, Tharcourt found all of this endearing. The normally loud, boisterous and profane Veruna was so cute and quirky in the morning.

"Yeah, well…I got you some caf." He offered, reaching her the cup. She groaned and sat up. Zala took the cup and managed a sip before making a sour face.

"Ew. Like gag me with a spoon…" She commented, then sighed. "Sorry Drakken. I'm just used to caramel macchiato with whipped cream and…ugh never mind." She took another sip. Tharcourt took a drink of his own caf. It didn't taste too bad to him, but then again, he wasn't used to machinated whipped cream caf or whatever rich girl cuisine she was talking about. "Thanks for the morning boost, man." He held up his cup in a toast.

"Well…you're welcome." He said.

"And uh…sorry about last night." She added. "Guess I got all up in your biz." He chuckled.

"Hey, I did too." He admitted. "I was just pretty peeved about the whole…you know…"

"Slavery thing?" She offered. "It's chill. We probably need to like…you know, take it down a notch and try not to murder each other." She tried another drink of the caf. "Man, you can be a total psycho."

"Yeah, I know." Tharcourt huffed. "And you can be a real termagant sometimes."

"I have no kriffing idea what that means." Veruna stated with an amused smirk. "But if it means I'm a real queen B, then yeah, and proud of it." Drakken laughed.

Zala climbed out of bed and went into the refresher, and Tharcourt began getting dressed. She emerged a few minutes later wearing the same outfit from the day before. Drakken sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his engineer boots. He paused to yawn, then cast a glance up at Veruna, who had put on eyeliner, and was now applying lipstick using a vanity mirror she had brought with her. Once finished, she cocked her head from side-to-side, and seemingly satisfied, she blew her reflection a kiss. Tharcourt rolled his eyes at her narcissism. She put the mirror away, and he stood and started fastening his gunbelt around his waist.

"So, what's on the agenda?" He asked. "We have thirteen hours until we have to meet with those goons with the obviously stolen Imperial weapons."

"I thought we could go get some breakfast, and maybe check out a few safehouses ISB thinks Latoure is using." Veruna replied. "My blaster?" He tossed her the gunbelt and weapon, and she caught it and strapped it on. "What do you say?"

"What I never say is no to a meal." Drakken answered.

"Good. Now help me pack. We're going to move to another location for tonight." She smiled. "Lesson two; never stay in one place long enough for someone to track you down."

"Annoying, but understandable…" Tharcourt grumbled, and started stuffing their effects into the large duffel bag.

After a ten-minute ride up two levels and down several streets, Veruna stopped at a diner. The two undercover Imperial officers climbed out of the speeder and walked into the establishment. Upon entering, Drakken inhaled deeply through his nose. The smell of cooking meat, grease, caf and other breakfast odors was both strong and alluring. He had to reflect for a brief moment that before dinner at Veruna's, he hadn't eaten anything but mess hall food and combat rations for over six months, since right before his assignment aboard The Accuser. Veruna led him to a booth in the corner, and she plopped down in the wall-seat. Tharcourt sat across from her as she leaned over the table.

"I always sit with my back to the wall." She whispered. "If anybody is trying to like…do me in, they can't sneak up on me." She winked. "I just adore this, teaching you all of this wizard operative stuff, sweetie." He raised an eyebrow.

"Zala…I always sit with my back to the wall." He said in a monotone, and blinked twice. She grinned timidly.

"Oh…" She said innocently.

"You two want some caf?" A human waitress asked, coming to stand beside the table.

"Yes ma'am." Drakken answered. "Black." The waitress looked at Veruna.

"You have anything…exotic in caf?" She asked. The purple-haired waitress rolled her eyes.

"Lady…sugar, milk and maybe some chocolate is about as exotic as you're gonna get here."

"Sounds good to me." Zala shrugged. The woman went to get their drinks, and Veruna watched her go with her eyes before leaning in toward Drakken. "What we're doing today might get very dangerous. I thought I would warn you ahead of time."

"Huh. As opposed to every other day of my life?" He scoffed. "Why the hell not?"

"You need some food in you, man. You're starting to sound all cranky again."

"I'm always cranky, and you know why." Tharcourt grumbled irritably. Veruna huffed.

"We seriously gotta talk about your issues, man."

"I told you…I don't have issues." Drakken shot back.

"Aw honey, this is Coruscant." The waitress said with a smile as she placed their mugs of caf before them. "We all have issues. You two figure on what you want?"

"Yeah, sure." Zala answered. "I want the breakfast plate, with some fruit on the side." The waitress looked to Drakken. He rubbed his stubble as he stared at the menu .

"I guess I'll have the same as the lady." He shrugged. The waitress left the table, and Drakken leaned forward. "Listen, something's bothering me."

"What do you mean?" She returned with a serious expression.

"If this deal goes through, and you-know-who is at the core of it all…it seems a little too easy, doesn't it?" She began to speak. "Think about it. How many times has it been this easy for you?"

"I…I mean…I did my homework…" She protested. "We've been on this for months now, and…"

"Think about what he did for a living before he went independent." Tharcourt whispered.

"You're saying…you think it might be a trap." Zala said. She exhaled sharply. "I really don't think so. Intelligence says…"

"I've nearly been killed ten times over by intelligence, and you know better!" He whispered harshly. "I just think this whole thing has a bad feeling to it." They were leaned in, face-to-face now, and he placed his lips near to her left ear. "This ain't a game. You people trust in your gadgets. I've learned to trust in my gut. Trust me, Zala." She drew back.

"I…I do…" She muttered. "Geez man…you're giving me the heebie jeebies." She took a drink of her caf and cleared her throat. "I want you to give me your theories when we get outta here, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Until then, let's try to eat and have a chill moment together, huh?" She said, making Drakken scoff.

"You have to enjoy those when you can get 'em." He said. She nodded. "One must savor the small victories sometimes." He said in a mock-aristocratic tone, and gave a sarcastic smile. "A pompous bantha's ass told me that once."

"Let me guess…it was a bantha's ass named Willhuff."

"Yep."

"Your plates…" The waitress announced, and sat two platters heaped with breakfast food in front of them. "Enjoy your meal." Tharcourt gave a polite smile and nod. The waitress left, and he poked at some sort of hash with a fork.

"What is it?" He asked lacklusterly. Veruna giggled.

"What it is is not half as important as what it was." She said. "And what part of what it was is the real question, isn't it sweetie?" He gave the ISB agent a half-lidded glower.

"Now you get all philosophical…"

They sped through the city, Zala intentionally driving like a maniac every so often to check for tails. She pressed the sticks forward, and the speeder dove downward like a lead weight. She plummeted the craft down through six levels before banking back to a horizontal bearing, and Drakken gave an unamused grunt. She drove for several blocks, until she finally stopped the speeder at a rundown-looking building near the corner.

"This is the ISB safehouse we'll be like staying at." She announced.

"How safe is it?"

"ISB rents these through contacts. Basically, an undercover agent gives a mole down here like a lot of credits to find some scumbag to rent it under an assumed name for them and walk away. It's a totally untraceable piece of real estate. I keep some supplies and clothes cached in this one for missions like these."

"Hm. Still, be on guard." Drakken urged. They climbed out of the speeder and went to the door. Veruna carefully ran her fingers across a small monofilament line attached to the door and the frame.

"Doesn't look like anyone's been in here." She whispered. Zala unlocked the door and they both barreled into the room, blasters drawn. A rat scurried across the floor. The intelligence major yelped and took a wild shot at it, only leaving a burn mark on the duracrete. Tharcourt stared at her, his right eyebrow slowly rising.

"Sorry...I hate rats." She said sheepishly. They quickly cleared the tenement, and then retrieved the bags from the speeder, depositing them in the bedroom of the small apartment. Zala sat on the bed, and motioned toward Tharcourt. "So…tell me why you think this is all some big trap, sweetie." He sat on the end of the bed.

"Like I said, it all seems too easy, and I think he's making it that way. How do we know that Latoure isn't already onto us? Maybe he isn't, but like any good spy, he's using this opportunity to vet us and see if we're on the up-and-up. We go to this meeting and buy these weapons, and whether he thinks we're Imperial, rebels or just up to something, he's going to be looking out for his own hide. He'll probably have somebody follow us, or even put a tracker in the weapons. We're about to become his number-one priority."

"We can handle it though. I planned on us being scrutinized." Veruna said.

"Yeah, well what about the intel you asked for?" Drakken returned. "Yeah, we might meet with Latoure, but what if it's one of his cronies? Either way, he'll know what we look like if he doesn't already. How many people you think he's got working for him? A dozen? A hundred?" She nodded. "I'm not as experienced as you are with this whole undercover acting stuff, but we're going to have to play it close from here on out. I'm telling you Zala, we slip up, even just a little bit, and we're in it deep." She swallowed.

"Yeah…" She breathed. "I totes get what you're laying down, sweetie. We gotta be careful now, I know. We can't cut and run though, no matter what happens. We finish this thing, I think I'll get a promotion. We fail…" She trailed off.

"Zala?"

"I think my boss will kill me if I don't get Latoure." She said hesitatingly. "And not metaphorically. I mean like…literally."

"Damn…" Drakken sighed. "I didn't know that. I don't know what to say."

"Then don't." She replied with a small smile. Zala looked like she had something heavy on her mind, he thought. She drew out a scrambler from the bag and turned it on. "Drakken…listen…I want you to know something. I'm not supposed to tell you this. It's classified at top levels…and I mean tip-top." She sighed. "This mission might not just save my ass. I'm under orders to watch you day and night right now. Somebody thinks you might be dangerous." Tharcourt leapt to his feet.

"Who?!" He demanded. "Like I haven't spent the last six months purging the enemies of this empire? Getting shot at every damned day and damn near dying?! What more can somebody do to prove they're not some secret kriffing rebel?!" He huffed and blew a few moments.

"Calm down, Drakken…"

"No…I will not calm down. Who gave those orders?" He asked.

"Your boss." She answered sadly. "Your boss and mine." Drakken's eyes darted about the room trying to put a face to her answer. Finally, the only possibility sank in, and he felt himself grow cold.

"Vader…" He hissed.

"I was ordered to watch you and to report anything that looked or sounded remotely like treason to my superior at ISB." Veruna explained. "Dank farric, Drakken…I've covered for you more than you'll ever know. If Lord Vader hears you so much as make a snide comment about the color of the Emperor's robes, you'd be executed on the spot for treason right now."

"Vader…Vader…" He repeated bitterly. "If either of us is a traitor to the Empire, it's good old Lord Vader!"

"Tharcourt!"

"No, let it be known. He's pulled Imperial assets away from important operations to go…galivanting around the galaxy looking for some dumb kid pilot! He's threatened and killed officers for no good damned reason, he's taken command of the Navy, the Army and ISB…" He took a deep breath. "Despite having no real rank whatsoever. Plus, he continually pisses me off!"

"Commander Drakken Tharcourt, you come into line this instant!" Veruna yelled, jumping up, her hands clenched into fists.

"You know he's a jedi, right?" Drakken said smugly. Her eyes went wide.

"What?!"

"Oh yes. He's a jedi, laser sword, magic powers and all. I've seen it myself. And what more, I think this whole damn-blasted war is nothing but a continuation of the one between the jedi and the old republic. Vader and his jedi loyal to the Emperor, and a bunch of those wizard bastards helping the rebels, and we're just stupidly caught in the middle."

"Drakken, that's not even high treason anymore…that's…that's…void-kriffin' damned political blasphemy!" Zala exclaimed. "You see this? Huh? This is why you're being watched! This is why high command thinks you're a seditionist!"

"High command couldn't find their asses with a spotlamp and a map!" Drakken countered. "Who do you think wins the battles? Vader? Palpatine? Your white-topped political officers at ISB? Hell no! It's people like me, like Veers and Piett, like my men…like you! Who are they to accuse me of anything? Bunch of hoity-toity weasels and slavers. Soldiers bring peace and order. People like Vader bring nothing! Nothing but death and anarchy."

"Damn it Tharcourt, you are a commander. Those people are your superiors! They are the Empire!"

"I am the Empire!" Drakken said, jabbing a thumb into his chest. "I am, you are, Thorne, Piett…all those trillions of people out there. The minute somebody in a palace thinks they're the whole game, you got nothing but a kricking dictatorship. What sunk the republic?!"

"You are…a…kriffing…traitor." Zala growled, stomping up to Drakken.

"No Zala. I am a loyalist." He said through clenched teeth. "I fight for order and peace. You know…the damned things I signed up for. I would die for the Empire. I've lost good men fighting for the Empire. You understand that? Walker was a good man. Yulan, Harsel, Fi'an, Garsel, Sergeant Vuul, buried in the mud on Mimban. All for this ideal of ours. You think our superiors would die for it?" He clenched his fists so tightly his gloves creaked. "No. But I would. Because I've seen enough war, enough death, and enough "political blasphemy" for a thousand lifetimes. And I'm fighting so some poor kid on Garos…so some little Rodian mother or Twi'lek miner doesn't have to see it anymore. You think I'm a traitor? You go on ahead and try to arrest me. Try it, and I'll kill you." He narrowed his eyes.

"You said I'm a good man. I'm not. I'm...really...not. I do my job. I do it better than a lot of them because I believe in it. You think that makes me a good man, then get the Hell out of my way and let me kill everything that wants to tear this galaxy apart."

"You know I should shoot you right here." Veruna stated.

"Kriffin' do it then, Zala." He snapped. "Do it and get me out of this Hell." Zala grabbed him by the collar.

"You don't know what Hell is." She growled, drew herself up on her toes and pressed her lips into his. He froze momentarily, in both anger and confusion as the ISB agent kissed him desperately on the lips. She dropped back down on her feet, and stared confrontationally into his eyes.

"What…in the void…was that, Major Veruna?" Drakken snarled.

"That was me…getting us both out of a Hell we're in, Commander Tharcourt." She stated. "Why don't you try to love something other than pain and death for once, huh?"

"Gods, you're as bad as Freya…" He muttered.

"No, Freya is an adorable sweetheart. I'm a goddess. You're just a prude." Veruna sighed. "And I'm not going to arrest you or execute you for treason, like…just so you know." She added.

"Oh really? I was beginning to worry." Drakken grumbled sarcastically.

"You asshole." Zala fired back. "Ugh. And you need to stop with all the seditious ranting, okay? Karabast, I mean…you're not wrong…about like, some of it at least, but you don't need to say it. One of these days you're gonna totally kriff the hell up and say something to somebody, and I won't be able to protect you from your mouth anymore."

"I only say it in front of people I trust." He said softly. "You don't think I know better? How draconian the law can be…especially these days?"

"And there you go again…" Zala sighed. "Drakken? Can I ask you a serious question?

"For once?" He remarked to her exasperation. "Yeah, sure."

"You don't feel like you belong in the Empire. Why stay? Why not go off and do something else?"

"I…" He stammered. It felt like a loaded question to which he himself hardly knew the answer. "I don't think I could do anything else…" Zala gave him a sad smile.

"You've been a soldier too damned long, Drakken." She said softly.

"Maybe…" He sighed. "Kinda forced into it…" He scoffed. "Wanted to do it when I was a dumb kid. Then I had to do it. Guess like it or not, I'm too good at it…life's funny like that sometimes…" Zala put a finger over his lips.

"It's alright…I love my job, but sometimes…I dunno. Sometimes I think I'd like to go open a nightclub or be a private investigator or something. Then I think about how wizard I am at this intelligence thing, and…"

"It's tough, ain't it?" Tharcourt offered. "One thing to be getting shot at by the enemy. It's different when it's your own people aiming at you. Makes you feel like...Hell, like everyone might be the enemy?"

"You have no idea how close you are to something there…" She muttered, then smiled a little. "So here we are, huh? Two awesome soldiers with issues, heh."

"Yeah." Drakken said, the left side of his lips turning up. "Beats having issues alone, I suppose." Zala winked at him, then stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Well come on doll…let's go be awesome."

I really look forward to your comments after this one. I mean look at the two of them. If they don't end up killing one another, there might be a spark of something serious between them, yeah? So send me some questions, some comments, some love my loyal readers. It's been a while. I'm going to try to have the next chapter up sometime in the next couple of day for REAL this time. I've almost caught up on my writing, and I'm trying like Hell to get this story completely written by the time I have to hit the old show circuit for the season. Rare insight into my methods, I'm currently writing on chapter 79, and this story looks like it will be around 100 or so chapters.

I'll get the next one to you soon, I promise. Keep it tuned in right here, and until next time, Cheerio!