Greetings and salutations, my loyal readers, new and old! I'm back with a new chapter. Now that our two heroes are officially a couple, let's see what awaits them. Enjoy!
Drakken awoke and lay still for a few moments, staring at the empty bed across from him. He could feel Freya pressed up against his back, her left arm draped over him. Her breath came warm and steady on the back of his head, and Drakken smiled. He couldn't place exactly what it was that he was feeling at present, except that he felt serene. More serene than he had in years. His thoughts drifted back to the night before, just after they had returned to the hotel from their ship.
Drakken had told her everything. Well, maybe not everything, but enough. He told her about his childhood on Garos, the war, and about losing Tay to the seps. Freya put her arms around him, and gave him a genuine hug, and he realized in that moment that this was the first time he'd ever talked to anyone about her since that day. Then Thorne had remarked that it was no wonder he hated droids so badly. Oddly, that train of logic had never occurred to him, and he thought about how he'd only warmed up to Glitch after the astromech had essentially died saving Freya's life.
He told her about the killing fields of Mimban, omitting for her sake descriptions of the more graphic parts, and she had been shocked and horrified beyond words. At one point, Freya had to walk out onto the balcony and sit down, smoking a cigarra as she stared out into the darkened city. When she returned, Thorne told him that she wanted him to go on with his story, and she wasn't going to let him stop. She'd just needed a break for a moment. He gave her a slightly abridged narrative of his time on Lothal, his work in the think-tank, and his assignment hunting pirates. When he was finished, it was zero-two-hundred, and Freya was sitting behind him on the bed, her long legs on either side of him, and her arms were crossed over his chest.
"Me love…" She whispered, and squeezed Drakken gently. "…I'm so sorry…"
"For what?" He sighed.
"That ye 'ad t' go through all a' that." She said softly. "It doesna' seem fair. I mean…that ye did, it made ye the man I love, but…feck." He took her hand in his and gave it a slight squeeze. "I'd gie 't oop I think an' die an ol' maid if it meant ye didn't 'ave t' be walkin around with all them scars."
"A soldier's gonna have scars." He stated tiredly. "I guess that's why…"
"I won't be one of 'em." Freya stated, pulling his face around and looking him in the eyes. "Ye hear me, Drakken?" He nodded, and she kissed him on the lips.
They had fallen asleep together on one of the beds. For Drakken, falling asleep in Freya's arms was the fastest he'd gotten to sleep in a long time, and he couldn't remember ever sleeping so soundly. Now, he was awake, and he almost didn't want to move, to disturb the moment. He finally rolled over, facing the sleeping young woman, and gently brushed a tangle of wild red hair out of her face. She let out a faint murmur, and he chuckled to himself.
"Hey…" He called in a whisper. "Freya?" She made a slow wiggle and grunted. He put on his best mimicry of her accent. "Oi! Princess Thorne A' Breoh'Lar! Yeu best git oop!" A pair of emerald green eyes shot open, and then narrowed at him, and her lips turned downward.
"Och…Drakken…" She groaned. The young woman rolled onto her back and stretched with little in the way of lady-like dignity. She yawned loudly, and turned back to him. "I'm noot a princess, thankee." He smirked.
"I thought you was royalty, my dear." He said.
"Aye… but not a princess, ye bampot. If ye need t' know, I'm Lady Thorne…" She rolled her eyes. "Ugh…Sixteenth Lady o' Callomean an' Fourth Lady o' Marrowglen." She gave him a deadpan expression.
"Wow." He responded. "Didn't know you were so important, poppet." She snorted.
"An' did ye 'ave t' remind me afore we even have breakfast?" She shot, and laughed. She touched her forehead to his. "I always preferred me milit'ry rank in th' clan over me birthright, if it's all the same."
"Which was?" Drakken asked.
"Ye sure yer ready fer this ein?" She quipped.
"Hit me."
"Lady Thorne, Green Lady o' the Hall, Captain o' the High Laird's House'old Guard an' Chief Shirereef." She proclaimed. Drakken stared at her as he smacked his lips a few times.
"Yeah…that's a little too much to chew on before breakfast." He grumbled with an amused grin. She laughed again.
"Aye it is. Well, ye wanna get up an' we'll go find us some grub?" She asked.
"Can't stay in bed all day…" He returned. She smiled deviously.
"I bet ye we could." She said playfully. "I mean…if ye want to." He gave her a peck on the lips.
"No…" He sighed. "I'm uh…I think I'm still getting used to us being a thing." She giggled and gave him a smooch on the forehead before rolling over and standing.
"Don't ye worry, you'll get used tae it." She advised, and winked. "Took me but a lil' while after we met." Drakken smirked as he stood from the bed.
"Yeah…I know…" He muttered. "I was the last to find out." He grabbed a change of clothes and took a quick shower. When he exited, Drakken was wearing his tall boots with the durasteel plates, black cargo pants and a grey uniform blouse. He immediately set about strapping on his gunbelt. Freya shook her head and gave a small chuckle.
"Ye always look like ye can kill e'eryone in the room, ye know that, right?" She commented. He raised an eyebrow. "Not that I'm complainin'. I think ye look amazin', darlin'."
"Know why I always look like I can kill everyone in the room?" He asked.
"Cause ye probably can?" She shot back wryly. He shrugged.
"Always be nice. Be polite...but have a plan on how to eliminate every kriffer in the building." He said. Freya held up a finger as if to make a point, then dropped her hand and sighed.
"Wot kinda galaxy we live in…where that's actually a good philosophy…" She muttered. "I'm gonna take a shower. Be out in a bit, love." She took a pile of clothes into the refresher, and Drakken decided to wait on the balcony. He sat on the duracrete slab of the terrace, one foot propped up on the railing and his back against the wall. He let himself wonder how they were going to play this once they returned from their leave. While it was true that they wouldn't likely face any real trouble over their romantic involvement, they most certainly would if they didn't keep it under the rug. The team wouldn't care one way or the other, but people like Lord Vader and Admiral Ozzel might. Firmus would definitely have something to say about it should their affair leak out.
He felt bad now, like he was somehow trying to plan out damage control like some politician caught with his hand in a bank account. It was a messy situation. He thought about Freya's question. How long did he really plan on doing this? On running around the galaxy fighting other people's wars and getting shot at constantly? Tharcourt had been thinking about his age too much lately. In a couple of years, he'd be forty. He would have been in near-constant combat posture for twenty-five years. Eventually, something was going to have to give, right? Maybe this war would end soon, and he could start giving some thought to retiring. He heard singing coming from the refresher, and turned his head slightly to catch the strains of what Freya was singing;
"And now I tell you openly
You have my heart so don't hurt me
You're what I couldn't find
A totally amazing mind
So understanding and so kind
You're everything to me
Oh, my life
Is changing everyday
In every possible way…" A smile crept slowly onto Drakken's face, and he leaned back and closed his eyes.
Freya emerged a few minutes later, trying to fix her long hair into a manageable queue. She was wearing a tight-fitting, long-sleeved black shirt with an exposed midriff, a long green skirt and ankle boots. She caught Drakken staring, and blushed a little.
"So, where we offta today?" She asked.
"Well, I figured we could see what's going on more coreward if you wanted." He answered. "Maybe take in some of that famous core world entertainment people keep talking about." He pursed his lips. "Hell, I was just on Coruscant, and I swear I didn't see anything civilized or entertaining."
"Well, you were a' scummin' aboot the dregs playin' Const'ble with that woman, ye were." She countered, packing up her clothes and belongings. "Like ye 'ad time to catch a show or go to a club."
"I did in fact go to a club." He stated. "Then we…sort of…shot the place up and…burned it down."
"What…they didn't play yer favorite song, love?" She asked. He looked up curiously, and she broke into a giggle. "Seriously, don't blow up any places on our holiday…at least until I've gotten a dance out a' ya." Tharcourt was finished packing, and he hefted his bag's strap onto his shoulder.
"I don't dance." He said, and walked past her. Freya rolled her eyes as she picked up her bag and joined him.
"Like ye don't sing?" She countered.
"No…I mean…that was different." He said. "I don't like dancing and singing…in front of people especially."
"What?" She exclaimed with a grin as they walked down the hall toward the turbolift. "How's that work, Drakken?" He huffed and stepped into the small lift.
"Just don't like being in front of people's all." He answered. "Having people watch me, alright?"
"Yer afraid a' people judgin' ye, Drakken? Fer feck's sake you merc people left right and center, ye blow up enemy bases, an 'ye still get stage fright?"
"That's different." He stated, handing their key card over to the Bothan woman at the counter. "I'm good at that…and I think the show does much to distract from the performer in that case, love."
"So yer a performance artist then." She said sarcastically. He looked at her in silence a moment.
"You're flying."
The ship slowly and carefully touched down with all the hesitation of a drunken man scared to fall off of a chair. The engines shut off, and the ramp lowered. A few moments later, Drakken and Freya stepped out, her arm hanging on his shoulder as she laughed and snorted. He made a comment about her not nearly killing them both this time, and she laughed again and slapped his arm.
"So this is it, huh?" She asked, looking at the city around them.
"Yep. I've heard of Balmorra…for years, and I don't know why." Drakken replied. "I figured it's in the inner rim, and it's here, so why not."
"Everything ye do is based around why not." Freya teased. He shrugged.
"Why not?"
The city was immense, definitely not so immense as Coruscant, but still one of the few places either of them had seen that could give a star destroyer a run for its credits. They ventured out of the spaceport and into the metropolitan area, walking down a sidewalk past tall buildings, brightly lit signs and sentients of almost every conceivable specie. After everything he'd already seen in his life, Drakken wasn't fazed at all by the size of the city or the diversity of its residents. Freya on the other hand couldn't help but stare about in wonder and fascination.
They found a club of some sort. It was covered with gaudy lights, and music could be heard from inside, even on the busy sidewalk. They shot each other a glance and walked into the establishment. Immediately, they were met with a dizzying assault of colored lights that seemed to flash and dance with the pounding music. Dozens of patrons sat at tables drinking and danced on the large open floor in the center of the club. Drakken raised an eyebrow at the lyrics of the song that was thrumming through the business as Thorne leaned in.
"Whad'ya think about this music?" She called over the song. The lyrics played out bitterly;
"What about your work?
It's defective…It's a crock and then you die
What about your childhood
It's defective…It's dead and buried in the past
What about your future
It's defective…and you can shove it up your ass
Oh, I want my money back
I want my money back
It's all or nothing
And nothing's all I ever get
Every time I turn it on, I burn it up and burn it out
It's a never ending attack. Ev'rything's a lie and that's a fact
Life is a lemon and I want my money back." Drakken leaned over to her and smirked.
"Yeah…that sort of sums up my life right about now." He commented. Freya scoffed and lightly slapped his arm. They pushed through the crowd of teenagers and young adults who were dancing on the floor, and made their way to the bar. "Hey." He called to the human man tending the bar. "Couple of ales."
"Coming up." The bartender nodded. A few seconds later, they toasted each other and took long drinks of their stout beverages. They both looked deep into their mugs for a moment, and then drank deeply again.
"So, love…" She began.
"I know what you're going to ask." He nodded. "When we get back, nothing's changed. We carry on like we always have."
"Aye…we should try an' act like we're not a thing now." She said. "Or have we always acted like we were and only finalized it of late?" He drained his glass.
"Yeah…that's a good question." He muttered, and gave her a shrug. "Like I would know the answer. I still have no idea what I'm doing."
"Good." Freya returned, signaling the bartender for refills. "Ye can't o'erthink it that way." She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. They took their new drinks, and Drakken raised his in a toast to the young woman.
"On another note, you're getting better at flying." He commented. "Though I doubt either of us are ever going to be as good as Ekks or anything." He took a drink.
"Ye cannae be brilliant at ev'rything." She shrugged and drained half of her glass. "Though ye are quite brilliant, me love." He scoffed and leaned on the bar counter.
"Not that brilliant…" He returned. "I'm an exceptional soldier, and I will give myself that much." He stared out into space and nodded. "Not really that good at anything else. If I were a smarter man, I probably wouldn't be where I am right now." He caught her expression. "Ah…you know what I mean."
"You know…you don't gie yerself enough credit." She said crossly. "Yer a might bit smarter'n ye realize. Ye just 'ave…issues, I s'pose."
"Ughhh…Gods…" Drakken groaned and turned up his mug, emptying his glass before coming up for air. "Why does everybody have to keep telling me that?" He lamented. Freya giggled as a new, synthesized and upbeat song began;
"I see myself in the pouring home
I see the light come over known
I see myself in the pouring rain
I watch hope come over me…"
"C'mon…" She motioned, standing.
"Come on what?" He returned, mournfully examining his empty tankard. She took him by the arm.
"Come on…as in we're goin' t' dance." She answered irritably.
"I told you…I don't dance." Drakken sighed. Freya rolled her eyes, and practically dragged him off of the bar stool and onto the floor.
"Well ye bloody do now." She stated. She took him by the hand and the waist, and proceeded to initiate what felt like to Drakken to be some bizarre form of tribal war dance.
"What in the living void are we doing?" He finally asked humorously.
"This is the music the young set listen tae." She answered happily. "And this is how the younger set dances."
"Uh huh…" Drakken said, still feeling awkward. She pulled herself closer to him, and he instinctively put an arm around her waist. She bit her lip.
"Mm-hmm-hmm." She laughed. "An' tonight, we are young me love. So let's set this world on fire."
Two hours later, they stumbled out of the club and onto the street. Freya had an arm around Drakken to steady him. She was somewhat surprised. Aside from the three dances she had managed to pry out of the man, they had gone drink for drink, and he had capitulated long before she had thought he would. He was staggering a bit, and she couldn't help but find it funny. They had only drank six pints and seven shots each. She felt good enough to have a merry go at the rest of the night, but Drakken seemed like he was almost finished with the festivities.
"Ye okay, love?" She asked
"I am…happily indulging…in my own…self destruction." He slurred.
"Sure ye are…" She sighed, looking about for a hotel.
"I am…and you shouldn't not have cut me off." He said.
"Darlin', ye can barely stand." Freya countered as she helped him along. "Ye've 'ad enough t' drink fer one night, I'll warrant."
"I…" Drakken declared, jutting a wobbly finger into the air. "…have not yet begun to defile myself." He lowered his hand, and his expression softened. "I know…you just wanna take care of me…because you are the sweetest…nicest, prettiest woman I ever met…and you love me. I don't know why in the hell you'd do something like that, but you love me." Freya smiled at the unguarded way he spoke to her while blootered. It reminded her of something her father had once told her; You want a man to speak the truth, load him on the drink. He'll tell you things you'd think he'd want buried with him.
"Aw…ye really think I'm that pretty?" She fished. He practically locked on the brakes and tried very hard to focus on her face.
"Freya…I'll tell you something plain." He stated drunkenly. "I thought you were the…prettiest girl in the whole galaxy the minute I laid eyes on you. You were um…named after some…" He rolled a hand, searching for the word. "…a goddess, yeah?" She nodded. "Good…apropos. You are…a goddess." Freya blushed a little, and giggled.
"And you're a dragon fer sure, me love." She replied.
"Eh? Oh, right…Drakken." He muttered.
"Ye know, me people believe dragons t' be a symbol of protection." She said. "An' I think it suits ye."
"Oh?"
"Aye. Yer th' most protective person I know…at least o' the people ye love." He stopped, and she almost tripped. He frowned.
"If you love someone…something…really love them, and not just saying it to look pretty…" Drakken ranted in his intoxication. "Then you better be willing to fight for 'em. Fight Hell. Kill to protect them if you gotta."
"I heared a' dyin' t' protect…"
"Why'n the stellar Hell would you wanna do that?!" Drakken exclaimed, waving an arm dramatically. "You die, and you can't protect them anymore! No, you gotta survive…and you…you have to kill to protect the…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "The people…the things you love…that are still there…" Freya sighed and frowned. She held him a little closer.
"It's alright, darlin'. Ye have me." She said softly.
"I love you." He said. Freya smiled.
"I love you too, Drakken." She answered. She looked across the street and spied a hotel. "Now let's get you abed, eh?"
She helped Drakken into the small hotel room, and practically dropped him onto the bed. She pulled off his boots, and then sat down to take off her own, when he grabbed her by the arm and teetered her over onto him. She saw the mischievous smile on his face and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He put his arms around her and drew her in closer.
"Ye sure ye wanna be doin this, me love?" She asked, then grinned. "Not that I mind a tinker's damn, but yer a wee bit smashed, darlin'."
"One…I have wanted to do this…for ages." He replied. "And B, I am…sober as a bird." He drew her in and they kissed passionately, Freya letting out a few heated whimpers as their kiss grew more desperate. Then suddenly, Drakken seemed to loose his grip on her, and he fell back onto the bed. Freya sat up and stared incredulously at the man. He was passed out cold. She threw her arms up in the air.
"Great…" She commented. She let out a frustrated breath and kicked off her boots before dropping down beside him and falling asleep.
…...
Drakken awoke, and immediately regretted his decision to drink so much the night before. His mouth felt bone-dry, and his head was pounding. He glanced over at Freya, still soundly asleep next to him, and he smiled. Drakken crawled out of bed, and found his footing on the floor, holding a hand to his forehead for a moment. He poured a cup of water and downed it in one go. Another cup disappeared just as quickly before he put on a boiler of caf. Once the beverage was finished, he took a cup of it out onto the second-floor balcony of their room, and stepped out to inhale some fresh air.
His thoughts went to his life over the last few months, and to the nagging doubts that ate at the back of his mind. Nothing seemed clear anymore. Nothing seemed cut and dry to him. War never was. There were no good guys in war, but he had found himself considering more and more that perhaps he had made a mistake this time. The Empire wasn't just imperfect, he realized. It was almost as self-serving and corrupt as the Republic had been. That gave him pause. He had fought against the Seps when they had come to Garos. Maybe he had rebelled against the wrong side as a kid…
Now, he was fighting for another cause, another flag. He had thought he was bringing peace and security, but everything he'd learned in the last few months had changed that. All he could see now was that he was a precision instrument of fear and terror, fighting for a government that was quickly losing all respect and support of its own people. Not that he even now sympathized with the rebels. Those idiots would have the galaxy in chaos if they had their way. What was it he'd told his compatriots on Garos once? 'It's easier to blow up transports than it is to make them run on time.' The rebels hadn't figured that out. They wanted to destroy, with no clear idea on how to make things any better.
Was there any such thing as better anyway? He took a long, solemn drink of his caf. All he had known was war. It seemed like the natural order of the cosmos, and peace was the exception. He scoffed, and turned back to the room, looking at a still-sleeping Freya. She was the better to him. She was the balance and peace that had been missing from his life. His team was the structure and order he needed, the comradery he craved, but she was the heart. It was almost too tragic; if there wasn't a war on, he felt that he'd probably be perfectly content now. And today, they had to go back to that war. There was no question in Drakken's mind now. He felt like his, Freya's and his troopers' souls were at stake, and there was only one way he could play things. He would have to mediate violence, to become an arbiter of death…
"Hey…Freya…" He called gently. She mumbled and rolled her head to the side. He smirked and sat down on the bed, shaking her shoulder. "Time to get up, my lady." She opened her eyes and gave him a little smile.
"Ah…so ye finally got it right, me love." She said tiredly. "Wot time is it?"
"Time old lothwolves are dying. Aren't you glad you're still a pup?" He answered. Freya made a quiet laugh, and reached out, gently running a hand down his cheek.
"Yer one ol' lothwolf that ain't gi'en up the fight yet." She said. "An' I hope ye ne'er do."
"Not yet." Drakken stated. He fetched a cup of caf for Freya as she sat up and stretched. He handed her the drink and sat back on the bed. "I know it's too early for esoteric conversation, but I I'm hung over and been thinking and I kind of wanted to talk to you." She took a drink of the caf.
"Ah Drakken, it's ne'er too early fer you to be a philosophizin' around." She commented. "What's doin'?
"Well…" He began. "I don't know if you've noticed, but the Empire might be a little less than a force for good." She slurped the caf and raised an eyebrow.
"Ye doon't say, Drakken." She said sarcastically. He shrugged.
"When I joined, I took that oath, same as you." He continued. "To serve the Emperor, the Imperial government, and to fight and if needs be die to bring order and peace to the galaxy and its people. I meant that too, especially the last part."
"Only…we're not bringin' peace an' order, are we?" She said softly, holding her cup to her mouth as if using the smell of the caf as a calming incense.
"Not always…" He growled. "I want the rebels gone. I want this war over. I am sick of bad orders, Freya. I can't do it anymore…I mean…" She put a hand on his arm to silence him.
"Love…" She began in a soft tone. "Ye don't think I ain't seen it too? I been havin' me doubts since I joined up. I think seein' Laird Vader cuttin' that poor lass' head off sealed it for me, it did. I thought about quittin' then and there. Only I didn't…because I wouldnae be with you anymore. Yer the air in me lungs an' the sun on me face, Drakken Tharcourt. The lads…they're the moon and stars ye'd miss seein' if they went out. That's the only reason I'm 'ere. But the Empire?" She shook her head. "I don't think I can believe in it anymore."
"We're traitors." Drakken sighed. "So's most of Imperial high command. So are the rebels, and so was the republic. Traitors to the people. We're all monsters, I guess…" He waved a hand. "Forget it. Look, we get back, I want to things to change. You're my second, and this doesn't go beyond us until I think it's safe to do otherwise."
"Aye, sir." Freya snapped instinctively.
"The rule is that we destroy the rebels utterly. Every chance we get, Freya. We go full Tarkin on them…I mean it." Drakken had a grim expression on his face. "I want to end this thing. I want to before the Empire does something really stupid…so there's that. But…and here's the caveat: no collateral damage. No civilians, no children, and minimal damage to civilian infrastructure. We break the rebellion, but try to help the civilian population."
Win their 'earts an' minds." Freya nodded.
"Like we should've been doing all along. We do our jobs…the ones we signed up for, sweetheart. I don't really care what our orders say, if we complete our mission and take out the rebs, nobody can call us anything but efficient."
"Right." She agreed. "Then what? I mean, when the war's over?"
"I've been thinking about that, love. I think once the war is over, I will agree to become an instructor at the asymmetrical warfare school. They're chomping at the bit to have me, so I'll negotiate it that you all have to come too, to teach your individual skills to the cadets."
"No more fighting?" Freya asked.
"No more." Drakken nodded. "Except for breaking students during hand-to-hand combat training, I guess."
"Shoo…I 'ave to admit that I'll miss it…at least the good fights." Freya commented.
"I know what you mean." He exhaled. "But we won't have to worry about whether or not our next mission is going to be lighting up the wrong people." He gently ran his fingers through her hair lovingly. "I won't have you or any of them living with the regrets I have. I'll hang up my blasters before that happens." She stared into his brown eyes at that, and his lips twitched with some hidden emotion. They were silent a moment, then Drakken finally spoke again. "We'd uh…we'd better get going. We'll grab some chow, then we have to head back to The Executor.
It looks like Drakken's got it in mind that if you want to change the galaxy, you gotta change yourself first. We know however that the galaxy is run by a dastardly duo of darkside dictators who are inclined to keep things just the way they are. So...wonder how that's gonna work out for him?
Oh yes, and we had songs. The Cranberries, Meat Loaf and Moby in this chapter. Can you tell I'm a 90's kid?
I'll return soon with another installment, my loyal readers. Until then, hit that favorite button, it only takes a sec, and leave me some love (or hate) in the reviews. I love hearing from all of you awesome people out there who have made this story idea a reality! I'll be back soon my friends! Until then...Cheerio!
