I'm back everyone, and I come bearing the gift of a new chapter. Happy Easter, loyal readers...whether you're a religious sort, or just like great mythical rabbits that give you chocolate, hope you all had a good day today. Now on to the story, where we rejoin Thorne and crew on their mission to Mimban. Enjoy, my friends!

Freya sat on a cot in the small holding room aboard The Huntsman. Normally reserved for prisoners or extra provisions, she had claimed the small space as her own on the long, twelve-hour flight to Mimban. Tired, she had taken a nap for four hours, then ventured into the bay and cockpit of the shuttle to check on the troopers, speak with Halresk about their trip, and make sure their passengers were well. The latter was a unique experience. Doctor Aphra was a strange woman, and her protocol droid was almost terrifying. Thorne took a drag off of her electronic cigarra as she thought about the contact and her mission. There was a tapping on the hatch to the small room.

"Knock knock." Aphra announced as she entered the space, a friendly smile on her lips. "Figured you might wanna know what you're getting into on this little mission."

"Meanin' exactly what, Doctor Aphra?" Freya asked, sitting up straight and folding her hands in her lap. The archaeologist rolled her eyes, and plopped down on the bunk beside Thorne. She picked up the Ensign's smoking device and examined it a moment before taking a drag from the electronic cigarra. She blew out a large cloud contentedly.

"Whew. Nice. What is this, tabacc substitute?"

"Um…yeah…"

"Figured it was something harder. I hit one of these bad boys one time…" Aphra said, waggling the device. "…pure glitterstem and propylene glycol. What…a…rush." Freya wrinkled her nose.

"Ew." She commented.

"Never used spice, huh?"

"Wot? Nae, ne'er. I wouldnae touch that foul ol' stuff." Freya shot back. Aphra grinned.

"You really are the paradigm of innocence, aren't you, Ensign?" She commented. "I have to say, it's kind of refreshing to meet an Imperial officer who doesn't act like they're lord of all they survey."

"Yes well…I jus do me job is all." Thorne stated. "Now gimme my vaporizer." She snatched it from Doctor Aphra, who chuckled a little. Freya wiped off the mouthpiece on her trousers, and took a short draw from it. "What were ye saying about this mission?"

"You ever been to Mimban?" Aphra inquired. Thorne sighed.

"No."

"What do you know about the place?" The doctor asked. "Everything…you know…"

"Well…The planet Mimban, formally known as Circarpous V is located in the Circarpous sector of the galaxy's Expansion Region. It's situated along the Nanth'ri Trade Route, and has a wet, subtropical climate." Freya stated, as if reading the information from a database. Aphra nodded condescendingly as she spoke. "Chief industry is hyperbaride mining. I read that the Empire has had a presence there since the beginning, and there was a small battle on the world a'twixt us an' some o' the native inhabitants." She finally noticed the other woman's expression. "Wot? You wot?"

"Learn all of that from a digital file, or did someone pay really close attention during their briefing?" Aphra asked with a smirk.

"I…well…I did both!" Freya gushed, feeling a little self-conscious for some reason.

"Oh my stars…" Aphra groaned, and rubbed her forehead. "Can I just kiss you, or should I buy you dinner and a tooka doll first?"

"What?!" Freya exclaimed. Aphra chuckled again.

"Calm down. I'm…halfway kidding. You're kriffin' adorable and it's nerve-wracking, so I'm going to tell you about the Hell-storm you're about to get into so you don't get killed, okay?" Thorne settled down, still a little irritated about being hit on by the mercenary woman.

"Alright…"

"Mimban is like…imagine what a place looks like if you blew it all to hell and then patched it together with spit and hope, and then let it go to ruin for a couple decades. There was a big battle on that planet back about a dozen or so years ago. The Empire lost a few tens of thousands of troops, and only managed to 'civilize' about half the world. Most of the locals really aren't too warm and fuzzy about Imperials." She thought for a moment. "Honestly, I wouldn't say that the Mimbanese are all that warm and fuzzy to begin with. You want that, find an Ewok."

"So yer sayin' that the planet could be hostile?" Thorne said, steering the conversation back to the main topic.

"Mimban? Yeah, I'd say you need to watch your back. Now the rebels…"

"How did you find out about the rebels' base there, by the way?" Freya interjected.

"Suspicious, are we?"

"Maybe. Maybe I jes wanna know where me intel is comin' from." Thorne stated. Aphra smiled.

"Alright. I give. I happened to be in the neighborhood, looking for a particular item of historical and…intrinsic value, and I spotted an X-Wing fighter heading for Mimban. I followed, and did some creative investigation, and boom…a legitimate rebel outpost parked in the middle of nowhere on Mimban."

"And you jus decided t' take it on yerself to follow a rebel fighter to its hidden base, then race back to sell it to the Empire." Thorne stated with narrowed eyes. Aphra answered that question with a shrug and a grin.

"Okay, okay, it's like this…" She began. "There's a certain somebody way up in the Empire I've um…worked with…for in the past. Recovering artifacts, selling the odd piece of information, you get the picture. I managed to cross him, and didn't die, and I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to get back in his good graces."

"And get paid well too, I take it."

"Of course, Thorne! You don't think I would just give this kind of important information out for free, do you? I'm not a charity."

"But you're a citizen of the Empire…"

"Pshhh." Aphra waved. "Citizen my ass, and I have bills to pay." She noticed Freya's glower. "What? You're a pretty smart and sweet girl. Don't tell me you bought that whole 'Good Imperial' garbage hook, line and sinker."

"I like to think I'm a good Imperial officer, with all due respect, ma'am…" Freya grumbled.

"Good as in 'sorry to blast you kid, but I'm just following orders' or good as in actually trying to make the galaxy a better place, hm?"

"I…you don't…" Freya stammered, blushing a little. "Not that I have to explain meself, but I swore me an oath t' serve the Empire…to bring peace and prosperity to th' 'ole bloody galaxy, an' I meant it when I oathed it. Whether some other folk use their rank t' be getting up no no good is a'tween them an' their mothers…an' maybe the Emperor. T'isn't me though. I set out t' be a good officer, an' I bloody well plan on bein' one if it's all the same t' ye."

"Well…if you are, then you'd better not let the other officers find out about it." The black-haired adventurer said. "I don't think the Empire is quite ready for something as rare and noble as a perfect officer. They might hang you for it."

"Ye know, fer a money-hungry, weaselly spy fer the empire, ye sure do 'ave a strong mind fer railin' against it. Makes me wonder if ye really care fer anything except money."

"Eh. I was born without a moral compass." Aphra shrugged. "Why bother signing up to join anything that's just going to make me a number. I'm doing quite fine on my own." She winked. "You should try it sometime."

"Can we please get back to talkin' about this feckin' mission?" Thorne sighed, rubbing her forehead with her thumb and forefinger.

"Fine by me. What do you want to know?"

"How many rebels are there at the base?" Freya asked.

"I would say about two dozen or so."

"You didn't count?"

"Hey, I did what I could. I'm not about to walk into a nest of guerillas and ask how many people's in their clubhouse, okay? It looked like two dozen tops."

"Ships?"

"Six X-Wings, a small cargo ship, and a couple of old land speeders." Aphra said. "One of the fighters looks like it's in pretty rough shape." Thorne processed all of this information.

"What's the building look like?" She asked. Aphra took out a datapad and brought up an image taken from several hundred meters away of a boxy, modular structure.

"It looks exactly like this. There's a big hatch on the right that looks like the main entrance. They have this big antenna array on the left side. It looks like sensors. Probably make it hard for you guys to fly right up to the front door."

"We can cloak the shuttle." Freya countered. "Flip o' the switch, this bird becomes invisible t' any system they got."

"Well, you can get within a few klicks then." Aphra said. "The rebels' little hangout is on a low, rocky rise, right out in the middle of an open plain, surrounded by hills. They can see everything for kilometers, including an obviously cloaked Imperial shuttle." Thorne gracelessly fell back onto the cot and stared at the ceiling. The roguish doctor was right; there was no easy way to approach the base. If they attempted a direct attack, or landed close by, the rebels would spot them instantly. They would have no element of surprise, and the rebels would be able to fight back or escape.

"Yep." Doctor Aphra breathed, falling back next to Thorne, a little to close and comfortable for the young woman's liking, "You have a real tactical problem on your hands." Thorne narrowed her eyes.

"An' ye don't think I can figure out how to do it." She stated caustically.

"Nah, I'm just really interested in seeing how you do it."

"Hmph." Freya grunted.

"How many mission like this have you done, if you don't mind me asking."

"That's classified." The ensign stated, both not wanting to divulge that sort of information to the woman, and not wanting to admit that this was technically only her fourth such assignment. Doctor Aphra let out a low whistle.

"That bad, huh?" She remarked. "Damn. Well just remember, when the shooting starts, don't be looking around for me to help you. I plan on being safely away from all the action. I don't fight other people's battles. It's just not profitable…or good for my health."

"Gee. Thanks a lot, doc." Freya grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Now would ye mind getting' outta me room? I gotta change for the mission, and…you know, strategize?" She looked over at Aphra and jerked her head toward the door.

"Alright, alright…I'm going." The doctor said, and stood. "Just…make sure your plan is a good one, okay? I kinda like you. I'd hate for you to get blown to pieces down there."

"I'll take yer feelin's inta consid'ration when I plan on how t' beat the rebels." Thorne replied sarcastically. Aphra chuckled.

"Gods, you're a feisty one." She said, and opened the hatch, then waggled her eyebrows at the young officer. "Sure you don't want to grab a nice dinner somewhere when all this is over?"

"Och! Get oot, ye bloody slag!" Freya exclaimed, and threw a small pillow at her. She missed and hit the wall next to the hatch. Aphra left, laughing. The hatch closed, and Thorne flipped fully onto the cot. She felt her cheeks blushing, and allowed herself a small smirk. Doctor Aphra was irritating to her on every level. She was selfish, and an unabashed scoundrel, even worse than Ekks. Still, the fact that the cocky mercenary thought she was attractive amused Freya, and made her feel a little better about herself. She giggled a little at the conversation that had just taken place. She let out a breath. Now to figure out how to attack that rebel base…

Twenty minutes later, the hatch to the small room at the back of the shuttle opened, and out stepped Ensign Thorne, now dressed in her combat gear. Gone was the clean, crisp uniform from before. She now wore gray Army Trooper combat trousers fastened over the tops of her toeless boots, a gray officer's tunic, and her breastplate with her rank insignia affixed to the left side. Her cap had been replaced by her helmet and goggles, and she had traded her dress gloves for a more utilitarian pair.

"Troopers." She greeted. "We'll be on-world here in a bit. I figured it's time we 'old us a council o' war."

"Yes ma'am." Felian returned.

"I was talkin' with our contact here earlier…" She nodded towards Doctor Aphra. "…and it appears we 'ave ourselves a tricky situation. I have me a plan, but I'd like to get yer input on it afore we go in and find ourselves in a nice lil' mess." She tapped on the screen of her datapad, and an image of a building appeared in the air over the device. "This is a sketch o' the rebel outpost. An' here…" She tapped again, and a rough aerial drawing of a large, flat plain surrounded by hills appeared. "This is an approximation of the terrain. It look about right to ye, Doctor?"

"The field is more like a dish." Aphra explained. "lower at the center, with that rocky hill in the middle, but that's a pretty good sketch."

"Right." Thorne nodded. "We 'ave to attack this buildin' here, but we cannae get this ship close enough without being seen in quick order. I was thinking we should land a few klicks out, in the mountains. Then we could go in on foot, an' sneak up as close as we could get. If we can execute an award-winnin' entry like we did on that airfield, we should be able to take the place down before they get all organized." She looked around the compartment. "Anybody care to add anything?"

"How do we move into position across the open space?" Coleth asked. "Is there any cover and concealment?" Thorne looked to Aphra, who shrugged.

"Nope. Not really." She answered. "You have some undulations in the landscape, but nothing to hide a large group."

"Shite…" Freya whispered.

"Can't we go in at night…like use the darkness to sneak up to the base?" Gallen posed. "We did that one time. Think it'd work again?"

"Not likely." Thorne stated. "They probably have lookouts, both electronic and eyeballs. Besides, me ol' wan always said wen it comes t' trickin' yer enemy, cats know better than t' piss in the same spot on the floor twice'." Several of the troopers chuckled at the parable. "Nae…we need to come up with a plan. Something they're not going to see coming. Something nobody'd ever dream a' doin'. Something undeniably…Drakken." More chuckles.

"What if we dressed up like local plants or animals." Mets offered. "That would be kind of wizard. Nobody suspects a herd of animals to be enemy soldiers coming to raid their space."

"Hm…" Freya mused. "I like that idea, but save it for a later date." She looked around the bay for a few moments as most of the team glanced about at each other for ideas. Freya finally let out a frustrated growl through clenched teeth.

"Arrgh…I wish the C'mander was 'ere right now…" She lamented. "I ain't crazy like a fox like he is. We're bone-dry on zany ideas that lovely man'd be a swimmin' in!" The unit all cast her sympathetic looks. Gallen nodded. "Wot's havers t' a'body else is pure deid philosophy comin' from 'im, it is! That's why we can't think o' nuthin.' He'd probably lie back with 'is bloomin' eyes closed, an' say 'We'll joomp out th' ship, an' lamp the manky watchmen on th' way down…turn their guns on 'em, we will." She threw up her arms. "He'd prolly jes 'ave us pretend t' be delivery boys an' walk right on in, and the 'ole cheeky thing would some'ow work like it made perfect sense. That'd…be…" She dropped her arms and stared at the bulkhead for a few moments. "Perchance…" She cocked her head, and her left eye twitched a little.

"I do think that ensign is completely deranged." Aphra's protocol droid said in a low voice to the astromech beside him. "You think she will be blown to bits on this mission?" the smaller droid beeped.

"Ma'am?" Daraay spoke. "Are you well?" Thorne grinned.

"Better'n well, sergeant…" She answered. "I think I jes got me a real Tharcourt of an idea."

"Oh no…this can't be healthy…" Gallen groaned. "She's got that look in her eye…just like the old man does right before we end up doing something completely insane." Doctor Aphra looked at the sniper a moment, then to the others.

"Who the Hell is this guy you people keep talking about? Is he like some legendary military leader or something?"

"You're close to the mark, ma'am." Lago replied, leaning closer to the civilian. "Commander Tharcourt is our team leader. He can come up with ideas that…I don't think anybody else could make them work."

"He's the reason we're like sixteen-and-oh right now." Coleth added. Mets nudged him.

"Seventeen-and-oh, genius."

"Huh? Ohhhh…I didn't know we were counting that one."

"I do."

"Wait…" Aphra interjected. She looked at Thorne. "You're not even the leader of this unit?"

"I'm second in command." Freya said. "Tharcourt is off doing classified things with top-secret people at th' moment. Now hauld yer wheesht, I'm bein' brilliant 'ere." She cleared her throat. "We need t' make a quick stop at the local Imperial headquarters in the system."

That turned out to meaning stopping in the Circarpous Major System, a collective of planets that contained Mimban. There, Freya had a hasty meeting with Bin Essada, a strange, portly man with black and orange hair, who was the Imperial governor of the system. After explaining that she was on a secret mission from Lord Vader to one of the worlds in his sector, and needed assistance, governor Essada agreed to help in any way possible. He was greatly confused by her demands, but met them nonetheless.

Thorne first requested use of an old civilian ship, a smallish, beat-up freighter. Then, she had the entire team disembark the shuttle. She, Felian, Mets and Coleth acquired rugged, well-worn civilian clothing. Their uniforms and gear were stowed in three large crates fitted with repulsors, along with the entire arsenal aboard The Huntsman. Thorne then borrowed ten more of the crates, and asked the governor to have two of them filled with various staple foods, and two of the others to be filled with any spare tools or mechanical and electric odds-and-ends laying about in the Imperial workshops in the small capitol city. When the strange acquisition was completed, Thorne called the entire team together in the bay of the new freighter to brief them on her plan.

"Alright, this is the scheme…" She began. "Halresk, you take the shuttle in, and hold well out of sight in the hills. Keep the bird cloaked. Felian, you're gonna pilot this ship to Mimban. You, me and th' scout twins are gonna be a poor crew a' traders with engine problems. We're gonna contact the rebels an' ask for help with our wee ship in exchange for some food and tools. That'll get us to their front gate. When I give the order…Halresk, fly in with the shuttle and take out their fighters and that tower. If we can cut the dobbers off from their mates, and lay pure waste to their ships, we'll have them dead-to-rights. The rest of ye will be hidden inside the crates. When the timin' is right, Daraay, you and the crew'll come out the boxes wot-like Hearthwarming gifts from 'ell, and the rest of us will storm the compound." She looked at Felian. "We'll be without armor, so we'll 'ave to be careful."

"Yes, ma'am." The scout sergeant nodded. "This is a Hell of a plan, Ensign Thorne. Commander Tharcourt would be proud.

"If we make it work." Freya pointed out. "I think timing is gonna be the lot of it, so let's do this thing right. Any questions?"

"Where will I be?" Aphra asked.

"Ah, you'll be safe with Halresk in the shuttle, ye buftie bird." Thorne answered. "Halresk, think you're up to this?" The pilot stood up straighter.

"Ma'am, I am prepared to perform…"

"Halresk." She interjected. "This is a council of war, not a dress inspection. Can you do this thing?" He went to 'at-ease' and smirked.

"Await your orders, then perform a strafing run on an unscouted enemy base, with a shuttle built for transporting dignitaries? Destroy over half a dozen snub fighters before they can scramble them and get them off the ground…while destroying their comms array before they can broadcast a distress signal? All while operating in completely alien terrain with only a sarcastic astromech as a co-pilot?" His smirk turned into a grin. "Ma'am…I relish the opportunity."

"Well let's see what you can do." Thorne said. She clapped her hands together. "Any more questions from me band of merry marauders?" She looked around. "No? Then let's get going. Lago, I need your expertise for a moment." Halresk and Doctor Aphra boarded the shuttle, while the rest of the team familiarized themselves with the freighter. It was an old YT-series ship of some build, with the cockpit mounted in between the forward mandibles instead of off to one side. Freya was more than happy with this vessel. It looked as though it were on the verge of falling apart. Felian dropped into the pilot's seat and warmed up the engines.

"At least the thing starts…" He grumbled.

"What did you need, ma'am?" Lago asked as Thorne watched Felian preparing to lift off.

"You know a bit about these ships, right?"

"A little, yeah." The young stormtrooper answered.

"Good. How badly can you damage this ship without killing us all?" Freya inquired. Lago hesitated a moment.

"Damage?"

"Aye. I want ye to break this bird, an' leave us only a leg t' land on. What can ye do?"

"I mean…I can probably short out the nav computer by running a surge from the reactor through the mains circuitry…and I could in theory destroy our hyperdrive by overpressuring the hyperdrive fuel lines by backfeeding from the…"

"Lago. I have no idea what those words mean, but I want you to do it all."

"Uh…now?"

"Nae ye bampot! When we get t' Mimban!" Freya laughed. "I'm already 'avin nightmare a' getting' sucked inta the void a' space ridin' in this rustbucket." Lago chuckled.

"Yes ma'am." He said. "Just give the word."

Freya looked at her reflection in the refresher mirror. She had changed into a green, low-cut top, a knee-length brown leather skirt, her knee-high sandals and a long, light brown vest that was little more than a thin, ankle-length cape with armholes. She adjusted the green and yellow civilian flight helmet on her head, and straightened the low-slung holster on her right side. She looked the part of a rugged ship's captain, and part of her loved her appearance. She wondered what Drakken would think of her outfit, and blushed. No sense in getting lost in thoughts like that. She thought to herself. Just try and get through this mission.

Freya left the refresher and made her way to the cockpit, making sure the entry team was getting into their crates along the way. She fell into the co-pilot's seat beside Sergeant Felian and looked over at the scout. He was dressed in a brown leather jacket with a fur collar, blue trousers tucked into tall black boots, and a black shirt with a standing collar. His usually dutiful demeanor was somewhat tempered by his attire, and she found it almost amusing.

"How's it feel to be dressed in something other'n regulation? She asked. He smiled.

"A little strange, ma'am." He replied. "I haven't had much of a reason to wear civvies since I joined up." He rotated his shoulders a few times. "It's kind of liberating."

"Aye." Freya said. "That it is. Ye'd think the Empire would give us more comfortable uniforms…ugh, as much time as we have t' be spendin' in 'em." Felian chuckled.

"Well ma'am, you always looked much more comfortable in your uniform than any of us." He commented. He immediately grimaced. "Oh…sorry ma'am, I didn't mean anything by that."

"Ah…ye stop it. I know what ye meant." Thorne waved. "It's a good thing the service let me wear the beg and the boots. Don't think I could merc as many rebels if I had t' wear pants all day long." Felian laughed. "Comfort is key when it comes t' fightin' afterall."

"Oh really?" The scout trooper asked.

"Aye. There's only a number a' things a person's got to do in life; Fight, fun, food and f…." She giggled. "Ye can figure out the rest. But if ye wanna be comfortable doin' all the others, why not makin' war too?" Felian stifled a grin, but finally let out a laugh.

"Well…as your subordinate, I guess I just have to agree with your assessment, ensign." He chuckled. "You know, if you didn't have rank, you could definitely hold your own in barracks-room conversations with the men of this service." Thorne smiled.

"I take that as a compliment, sarn't." She stated. "My maw got right scunnered at me e'ery time I'd go drinkin' and cuttin' up with me clan's guards. Said I was too young an' I'd get meself inta trouble." Felian caught her meaning and shot her a glance. "Was nae like that, thank ye. T'was jus' like me sittin' here talkin' to you, all like we got equal shares in this crazy life. I was born t' be a leader…" She sighed irritably. "Without bein' consulted. A leader ought to step down there with their people now and then…not sit on a throne all day."

"I think Commander Tharcourt would agree." Rix nodded. "I've been in the service for five years now, and I've never met officers like you and the Commander. It's…" The tracker tried to find the words. "It's almost like having actual soldiers for officers. Maybe that's why we're so successful." They were silent a moment. "So, you were an officer on your own world, ma'am?"

"I was supposed t' be, yes." She answered. "The eldest o' the clan chieftain is by birthright the head o' the guard of that clan. I was brought up from th' cradle to take that job. S'pose I joined the Navy instead." She scoffed. "Hard t' escape wot yer s'posed t' be doin'."

"Hm." Felian hummed. "I think so too."

"Wot were ye doin' afore you became the number wan scout in the 'ole Empire, sarn't?" Freya asked.

"My father was a tracker. I grew up hunting, learning to track every specie of beast on our world, and some on others. He hired himself out as a big-game guide, and when I turned thirteen, we sort of had a family business going, taking rich sportsmen out into the wilderness to bag a trophy. He got old, and wasn't able to take the hunt as well. I took over for a year or so, then decided to join up. He passed away a couple years back, but everything my old man taught me made me the tracker I am today."

"Aye…you mentioned ainse that he died of old age…" Thorne said softly. "How old was he?"

"Huh…I don't know exactly." Felian thought. "Something like thirty two?"

"When you were born?"

"No ma'am…when he died." The scout answered. He looked over to see Ensign Thorne's face twisted up in a comically confused way, and couldn't help but chuckle softly. "You really don't know much about the Clone Wars, do you, ma'am?"

"No…we were pretty well overlooked by both parties durin' that whole scrap." Freya replied. "I only know wot little bit I've heard o'er the years, and I ain't got many of those behind me."

"You were lucky." Felian remarked. "It was a mess. My dad was a veteran. He uh…I guess you can say he deserted after the first battle. Left behind and chalked up as KIA is more accurate. Wandered off the battlefield, got a ship running, and crashed on the first world he came to. A really nice girl found him, and made him a hot meal. That was it…love at first bite." Freya laughed at the bad joke.

"Aye. Quickest way t' a man's heart is through his gullet, me ma used t' say!" She added. Felian raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe you should cook the commander a nice meal sometime then." He said with a cunning grin. Freya lightly slapped his arm.

"Och. Ye be crossin all lines a' propriety now, sergeant!" She chided jokingly.

"Apologies, ma'am." He returned. The console beeped. "Well…looks like we're here. Mimban. Thorne looked up and noticed the planet just ahead. She called back for everyone to get ready, and radioed Halresk to get into standby position. The freighter entered the atmosphere, and she got her first look at the surface of their destination. It was just as Aphra had described it. Small patches of forest gave way to fields that looked like festering wastelands. Murky lakes dotted the landscape, their waters so filthy, it was hard to tell where the shoreline began. Hills protruded from the desolate plains, looking like jagged formations of rock trying desperately to plunge upward to escape the filth below. Thorne sighed.

"Ugh. This mission's gonna be the death o' me…" She muttered.

"Don't say that, ma'am." Felian offered. "I lose one of the only two officers I respect in battle, I might just resign."

"Cheeky bastard." Thorne smirked. "Alright. Let's get to it."

Finally, some time with Felian. If any of you were guessing at his family history, it's now been revealed. And we have more time with Aphra. I promise she won't become a big player in this story, but she's so damned fun to write that I just had to put her in this fic somewhere. I hope you all enjoyed this latest installment. I'll try to have the next up within a week's time. Until then my loyal readers, stay awesome, be well, and...Cheerio!