Commander Reader...The time has come. Execute Chapter 66.
Hello there. I'm back, and I've come bearing a new chapter for your reading pleasure. I hope everyone had fun throughout the last arc. It was a wild ride for certain, and there are more twists and turns in this story to come. So lets jump in, my loyal readers, and see where this crazy, out of control snub fighter takes us. Enjoy!
Drakken stepped off of the shuttle into the hangar of the ISSD. He looked around, taking in the inside of the massive space. He had always heard stories of men and women going mad from the isolation of being inside a ship for months on end. Tharcourt however felt just the opposite; the orderly and monotone interior of the vessel was a welcome sight after his stay on Coruscant, and part of him looked forward to the drudgery of ship's life again.
He took a turbolift up fifteen decks, then used a horizontal transport, then another lift, until he arrived at the bridge. Though he was anxious to see Freya, he knew that reporting to Lord Vader had to come first. Hopefully, the debriefing would be…well…brief, and he wouldn't have to spend too long having his mind read and getting breathed at by his superior. He pressed his code cylinder into the slot on the keypad, and the hatch opened. Drakken stepped onto the bridge of the massive destroyer, and looked about for Vader, or at least a familiar face.
"Ah…Drakken, Drakken." Firmus called, jogging up and putting one hand on Tharcourt's shoulder as they shook hands. "How was Coruscant, old man?"
"Big." He answered. "Big and…crowded, I think best describe it."
"Never much for an urban setting, eh?" Piett chuckled. "Lord Vader wants to see you."
"I know." Drakken said. He stared Firmus in the eyes eerily. "You didn't know…I can read minds too, Firmus Piett…future high admiral of the fleet…" The captain made an amused grimace, and forced it into an intense, chiding scowl.
"Hush up!" He commanded in a whisper. "You let Lord Vader hear that, and you're as good as dead." He turned and started walking toward the front of the bridge and Drakken kept pace alongside the shorter man. "I swear, you're incorrigible." Piett added.
"I know when to keep my mouth shut, Captain." Tharcourt said, perfectly feigning decorum, but with a slight smile. Piett rolled his eyes.
"It must be a newfound talent picked up in your travels then." He said, speaking again with the air of a ship's officer. Ahead of them, the dark form of Vader stood with his back to the two men. The dark lord peered out into space with his gloved hands clasped behind him. "Ah yes, here we are…Lord Vader. Commander Tharcourt has returned from his mission, my lord. You wished to speak to him?" Vader turned and regarded both men with a silent stare for a few moments.
"Yes. You may go, Captain Piett." Was the reply. Firmus saluted.
"As you wish, milord." He returned, and strode away. Drakken came to attention.
"Lord Vader." He greeted, then dropped his hand, knowing no return salute was forthcoming. "My mission on Coruscant was successful, sir."
"Indeed." The mystical being stated. "I have already been apprised of your complete and…unorthodox destruction…of a rogue ISB agent and his organization. Tell me commander, what possessed you to go after an entire criminal enterprise…by yourself?" Drakken inhaled deeply.
"It…seemed a waste of Imperial resources to do otherwise, sir." He answered. "Latoure and his men were dangerous, yes…but like the rebels, they lacked the experience to engage in real battle. Their weakness was overconfidence. I was able to exploit that." Vader was silent for a moment, then finally spoke.
"You are saying, commander…that you saw their threat as well within your ability to handle. I wonder if you yourself did not suffer from…overconfidence."
"I only did as I felt best for the mission, sir." Drakken sighed. "No…I would have called in reinforcements should the situation have become…complicated."
"But it did not." Vader said.
"No sir."
"And you utilized methods the ISB specifically called…primitive…strange and unusual, and…" He turned his helmeted head slightly toward Drakken, and the commander felt the icy gaze of the dark warlord on him. "…brutally effective." Tharcourt coughed nervously.
"If they are referring to my boobytraps and improvised explosive devices, I utilized them as a force-multiplier, sir. The enemy supplied the materials, and I simply repurposed them. My use of enemy prisoners, forced to provide information under duress…well…that was unfortunate, but we didn't have time for normal channels of information gathering." He opened his mouth, but closed it, and shook his head. "Sir, with all due respect…I like to think I accomplished my mission cleanly and with the minimal amount of collateral damage…which was hard to do in a city like that…" Vader held up a hand, and Drakken fell silent.
"Your mission was carried out more than acceptably, commander." Lord Vader stated. "And this Latoure was a danger to the Empire who needed to be eliminated. He knew many secrets. He deserted his post at ISB with a dangerous set of skills and knowledge."
"He did." Drakken agreed. "It's a good thing we stopped him too. Imagine what could've happened if he had rented himself out to the rebels…I hate to think…"
"Yes…" Vader mused darkly. "He could have supplied training and intelligence to the Rebel Alliance or other enemies of this Empire…that would have increased the threat against us two-fold." Before Drakken could speak, Vader stepped even closer, dangerously close. "It is imperative that our most highly-trained people also possess the highest degree of…loyalty. Would you not agree, commander?"
"Definitely so, sir. It would only make sense…"
"Irregular warfare…improvised explosives…imagine if an officer of your experience…a soldier of your natural abilities, were to turn your resources…against the Empire." It sounded too threatening. Tharcourt felt choked-up.
"I…I wouldn't call that a top-tier scenario at all, my lord!" He blurted out.
"Then it is well that your allegiance is to the Emperor." The menacing figure declared.
"And to peace, order and stability, my lord." Drakken returned. "I can assure you…you may believe, sir…that I would never side with those damned rebels or their senseless…useless cause."
"Is that so, commander?" Vader pressed, the end of his sentence marked by a slight upwards inflection.
"They wish to restore the old republic, Lord Vader." Tharcourt explained, no longer cowing to the presence of the dangerous being in front of him. "I saw what the republic was…and wasn't. Its corruption…its hypocrisy and its military cowardice is why it collapsed under the weight of its own putrefaction. The republic caused many systems…including my own, trouble that they're still scratching their way out of. And these people want that back?!" Vader stepped back and let the man go on.
"The Empire is all this galaxy has to hold things together." Drakken said matter-of-factly. "And for what it's worth, it's doing a decent job of that. These rebels…I still believe that they are trying to bring down the only thing holding up the sky over their heads. Their methods aren't even moral or sound, for Kriff's sake." He huffed, and looked up at Vader. "My apologies, sir. I did not mean to step out of line. I tend to get a little…heated when it comes to the insurgents, sir."
"And I am sure your anger and hatred for them no doubt aids you in your fight against them." Lord Vader agreed. "There is no room for sympathy or weakness when it comes to an enemy such as them."
"I…I am inclined to agree with you, Lord Vader." Drakken nodded.
"You may go now, Commander Tharcourt." The deep voice of the black-clad sorcerer came. "I am sure you have duties elsewhere."
"I do, my lord." Tharcourt stated, and he snapped his heels together and saluted. "Sir." He turned on his heels and left the bridge, passing a nod to Piett before he exited. Drakken spent the next fifteen minutes working his way down to his team's barracks. He finally reached the hatch leading to the commons room, to find Gallen standing guard outside.
"Corporal Gallen." Tharcourt greeted.
"Commander." The marksman returned. "Good to have you back, sir." Drakken nodded and entered the room. Mets and Coleth looked up from a holovid of the latest sports match of some kind, and Dall snapped his eyes up from the protein bar he was eating. They started to stand, but Drakken waved.
"As you were, troopers." He said, and looked around. "Place looks clean. Everything been copacetic in my absence?"
"A-Number-One, sir." Mets answered. Drakken nodded and opened the door to the office. As soon as it slid open, he saw Thorne sitting at her desk, busily engaged in paperwork. Her head shot up as he entered, and her eyes seemed to grow as wide as smashballs.
"Hey…Freya…" He greeted softly. She slowly stood, and he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and that she was oddly wearing a regulation uniform. She suddenly leaped toward him, and gripped him in a strong embrace.
"Ohmestars, Drakken…" She gasped. "I missed ye…oh I missed ye so much!" Tharcourt wrapped his arms around her, and swayed her gently.
"I missed you too, Freya." He returned. "It wasn't the same without you. How are you? How's everything been?" She released him and took a step back. He could see tears in her eyes, and something in the back of his mind was nagging him that something was wrong.
"I wish you'd been here…" The young woman sighed tiredly. "Och, it was…" She made a frustrated growl.
"It's okay…" He said softly. "I'm back…I'm here, Freya. What is it?" She sat against her desk.
"We 'ad a mission in yer absence, we did…" She began. "An' guess who went and got put o'er the whole bloody thing…by Lord Vader, no less?"
"Oh…wow…I mean, you ran an entire mission yourself?" Drakken spoke. "I'm really impressed…good job, Freya." He stopped himself cold, and he had a tinge of dread. "Wait…it went alright, didn't it? What happened? Everyone's okay? Did…"
"The mission…aye…it was productive." Thorne sighed. "Assaulted a wee rebel base, we did. Blew 'aff o' it to smithereens. We all made out wit our lives and body parts still intact." She walked around her desk and fell into her chair. Drakken grabbed his and wheeled it over to her. He sat directly in front of Thorne and grasped her hands in his.
"It sounds like you did a good job…what's wrong?" He asked. She sniffed, and tears began to run down her cheeks.
"We dressed up in…in costumes an' got right intae 'em. It was…you'd 'ave loved the plan." She said. "Oh what a crazy mess the 'ole thing was!" She laughed sadly. "We 'ad t' go to Hutt Space. I lamped a feckin' drunkard in a bar. Poor Gallen got beat up o'er a wee rug, and I 'ad a right lovely mercenary lassie try t' convince me t' date her."
"By the void…" Drakken chuckled. "That does sound like a time. I know something's wrong though." She looked up at him with weary, tear-filled eyes. "You're not spinning a great story out of it…and Gallen getting clobbered over a rug sounds like a Hell of an account." She scoffed and shook her head.
"I saw me somethin'…" She muttered. "Och…I saw me somethin', an' I wish I hae not 'a."
"What did you see?" He whispered, lightly brushing her cheek with his fingers.
"I saw a' wee girl get killed right in front o' me eyes, Drakken!" She whimpered. "Her 'ead right off at the neck by that feckin' magic sword o' Vader's."
"Sithspit…woah, woah…Lord Vader killed a kid." Drakken stumbled, trying to make sense of the story.
"Aye, tis wot I said! He kriffin' wopped her head off. She came at us with a bit o' pipe, an' he jus' turned an' zhruuu!" She swung her right arm out dramatically. "Killed 'er! A poor lil' lass, Drakken." She buried her face in her hands.
"Oh…karabast…" Drakken uttered. He could only imagine the turmoil she was going through. "Hey…look, I know it don't help, but you said she had a weapon, right? Maybe he was just trying to protect the both of you…"
"Don't ye dare be takin' 'is side, Drakken Tharcourt!" She exclaimed emotionally, jerking her hand out of his. "He killed a kid like it was nothin' but like swattin' a fly, then he choked me 'aff t' death!" Drakken stood straight up like he'd sat on a tack. His chair rolled back and bounded off of his desk.
"He choked you?!" Tharcourt half-yelled. "Freya…"
"Aye!" She cried out. "He did his magic hand thing an' had me on th' wall, throttlin' me goots out like a bloody chicken. I can still feel it, Drakken!" Her eyes went wide, and she put her fingers to her throat. "Sometimes…in me sleep…in me 'magination…I can still feel his dead fingers 'round me throat, killing me dead!" She dropped her arms to her side and coughed. "I yelled at 'im when he killed the girl. I scolded 'im, and that's when he put the magic t' me."
"Freya…" He whispered.
"Ye don't cross the black fair folk." She said in an almost-mesmerized voice, staring into nothingness. "Ye don't anger the spirits, or they'll kill ye. They'll kill ye, or they'll curse ye fer the rest a' yer mortal life."
"He's not a spirit." Drakken said bitterly, tightening his fists. "He's no spirit, or god or anything of the kind. He's just one of those damned Jedi bastards…with their little magic tricks and their glowing swords." He stared at Freya with an expression of fear and anger. He clenched his jaw wrathfully and jammed a finger at the ceiling. "I bet you…I bet if I marched up behind him and blasted his head right off his shoulders, he'd die just like you or me."
"Drakken, no!" Thorne cried, and dove out of her chair, throwing her arms around him. "Don't ye say that! You'll nae try that! Don't ye e'en think it! Please, love! Please!" He felt his anger subside a bit, and he held Freya in his arms.
"I'm sorry…" He finally breathed. "I just…"
"Ee ken." She whispered. "I know, me darlin'…I know."
"What do we do?" He asked.
"Nothin'." Thorne answered. "Nae, nothin'. We can run away…hop a ship an' take off far away from here, an' not 'ave a lick o' credits or a sens'ble thing t' do with ourselves. Or we can do air joobs. We can try an' win this miser'ble feckin' war an' keep bein' good at it, Drakken. We can try an' not get killed by the rebs…or by our own people."
"Yeah…same damned thing we do every day…" He muttered.
"Too kriffin' right, me darlin'." She said, and backed away a little. She sniffled, and wiped her eyes. "It's all we gots fer now, idn't it? May as well make the best of it till somethin' better air way comes." Drakken shook his head.
"You're somehow more okay with this than I am." He sighed dejectedly. Thorne sniffed again, and straightened her uniform tunic.
"I s'pose I 'ave t' be." She said. He looked up, and for the first time noticed the four tiles on her left chest, two red over two blue. "In th' wake a' almost murderin' me alive, Lord Vader turned 'round and said I done a good job. He done went promoted me."
"I…I can see that…" Drakken muttered in surprise and awe. "Freya…" He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Instead, he gave her another hug, and without thinking, kissed her on the cheek. "I hate that it happened the way it did…but getting promoted, this soon too…" She held a hand to her cheek where his lips had been, and her face turned a little pink. "You deserve those tiles. Nobody in this navy deserves those tiles more than you."
"I…I guess I best be doin' up me hair and looking the part now…" She sighed.
"Don't…you…kriffing…dare!" He countered. "If you're anything to go off of, every officer in the Empire ought to have hair down to their waist and be as amazing as you." She managed a small smile. "Stars end, I bet me and Firmus have another runner for admiral now." She shook her head.
"Drakken, stop…" She said softly. "Ye don't always gotta try an cheer me up."
"Who says I'm just pandering?" He replied. "Maybe…" He remembered Coruscant, and his revelation about his and Freya's relationship. He recalled Zala's advice. He still didn't want to go full-throttle into the great unknown, but maybe a short hyperjump would be safe enough for the moment. "Maybe I just want to tell you how incredible you are." He sighed. "And…I guess I should say that I don't always say the things to you that I ought to. I uh…I need to work on that." She gave him a coquettish smirk.
"Really? An' wot in the blazin' 'ell's come over ye…" She commented. She put a hand on his forehead. "Yer not runnin' a fever." He chuckled.
"Yeah, I deserve that." He remarked. "I guess I had a lot of time to think about things when I was on my mission. Time to…figure out what's important, and what isn't." He smiled at Freya. "I missed you…every day I was gone. I came close, Freya. It got a little dicey, and all I could think about was…you." She nodded.
"I thought of you when I almost…" She trailed off. "You were all that mattered." He averted his eyes after a moment.
"Freya, I think after everything we've been through, we deserve a break."
"It's your idea now, isn't it?" She replied with a knowing grin.
"I have enough leave saved up…why don't we…you know, go somewhere nice, just the two of us for a couple of days? Away from the war, away from the killing, the moral ambiguity…the weirdness, and just take a breather."
"That sounds lovely." She smiled.
"So, my dear Leftennant…" Drakken said, "…you want to maybe go…"
"Aye." She interjected. "I have nae eat a thing in two days…" She added quietly. "Now as yer back, I think maybe I can start getting' me appetite back. Maybe…"
"Come on." Drakken assured her, putting an arm over her shoulder. "I got strangled too once. You…get over it."
"I fer one don't plan on playin' a fool in front a' Vader no more." She returned. "No matter wot he's doin'."
"No…no that's probably a good idea…" Drakken agreed. "One of the first rules of being an officer, and one I should have taught you; don't worry about what your superiors are doing. Let them do it, right or wrong. They foul up, they get the repercussions. It's on their head. You keep yours down and be the best you can be." He pat her on the back. "When I was first starting out, that's the advice that was given to me, and it's held up." She nodded. "Now, let's get some food."
…
"An' apparently, the rug was stolen…an' the owner sent a couple a' bruisers t' get it back!" Freya said as Drakken sat listening, a fork of meat halfway to his mouth. "Och…they beat him silly with a sock, and took the rug!"
"Oh what a mess…" Tharcourt chuckled. "And him going on about how much he liked that thing." Freya brayed cutely.
"Aye…I think he's still in the dumps about it."
"I'm sorry I missed the whole thing." Drakken commented, and finally took the bite of his dinner. Freya spread a glob of butter on her roll and tore into it ravenously, washing it down with half a glass of cool tea. Tharcourt took a drink of water. "And what were you saying about a mercenary flirting with you?" Thorne mixed some cobbler with her meat and shoveled it down. Two days of being unable to eat had left her voracious. She barely chewed, the gulped it down.
"Ughhh. Aye…t'was our contact fer the mission. Some archaeologist-doctor woman. Ne'er seen a doctor carry a blaster in a quick-draw rig afore…ney 'ave I seen one draftin' spotchka, needin' a droid bodyguard or spying on rebels neither. Ye ask me, she was a mercenary."
"Sounds like an interesting character."
"Ye ain't bloody kidding!" Freya returned, and ate the rest of her roll. "She propositioned me more n' ainse. Funny sort a' bird." She took a sip of her tea.
"Was she pretty at least?" Drakken joked, wagging his eyebrows. Freya threw a hand to her mouth as she nearly launched her drink from her nose, and snorted with laughter.
"Aye…I'll gie 'er that." Thorne giggled. She gave a wistful sigh and leaned in toward Drakken. "Not near as pretty as ye, me darlin'." He scoffed and chuckled nervously.
"Ahhh…" He said dismissively. "Glad you think so."
"Doon't ye start with that." She chided. "Yer a lovely man, Drakken. In more ways than a dozen."
"Well…" He muttered. "Zala said so more than once too…" There was a clattering as Freya dropped her spoon onto the table. She coughed on her food, and a lieutenant walking by with his tray shot her a disappointed look. Drakken frowned at him, and the junior officer hurried off. Thorne narrowed her eyes.
"Ah did she now?" The young woman said in a low voice. "Wot exactly did…Zala have to say?" Tharcourt blew out an edgy breath. Yep, it made sense now. Thorne never did like Veruna, and he finally figured out why. She more than obviously felt threatened by the other woman. Drakken couldn't blame her. Zala was afterall, quite…forward with her advances.
"Not here, Freya…" He advised, but in a soft tone. "And you don't have to worry, okay?" She huffed, and bit into her piece of cake like she were trying to murder it. She noisily chewed the mass of chocolate-flavored bread and swallowed angrily.
"Right…" She mumbled. "Now…other'n sweetie pie'n 'round with Miss Perfect…" Drakken sighed. "…what'd ye get up ta? I don't e'en know where ye went or what ye was doin'."
"Well, I cant divulge everything." He stated. "Some of the operation is still classified behind doors we'll never walk through. I can tell you that I was on Coruscant."
"Ooo. I remember that world. All the pretty lights. First time I e'er laid eyes on a place like that."
"Yeah, well you didn't see the lower parts of it." Drakken said. "Coruscant can be a real rotten place, especially the further down you go. We had to…find a dangerous person who could have done a lot of damage to the government."
"I take it ye found him." Thorne observed. "An' from yer face, I'll bet he's nae gonna be causin' trouble no more."
"No…he's crossed off of the ISB's most wanted list now." Tharcourt remarked. "Along with his whole band of gangsters."
"Fer kriff's sake, Drakken." Freya declared. "Ye didnae bring doon 'aff the bloody city did ye?" He snickered.
"Not quite…that much." He answered and winked. She rolled her green eyes.
"Yer a whirlwind in a thorn tree ye are, Drakken Tharcourt." She remarked.
They entered the office, and sat at their respective desks. Thorne mentioned that she still had reports to file, and got quickly to work on the task. Drakken merely wanted to sit at his desk in peace for a little while. He felt that as much as he enjoyed being in the field, this last mission had taken something out of him that most assignments didn't. That, and his side still hurt from the blaster round he still had not told Thorne about. His attempts at relaxation were cut short however, when the hatch slid open, and in walked a familiar figure.
"Corporal…Ekks?" Tharcourt greeted. The team's pilot stepped into the room, dressed like he had just walked out of a cantina in Hutt Space, complete with a roguish leather jacket and dirty, scuffed brown boots. He came to an attempt at attention, and saluted.
"Sir. I wanted to inform you that I had returned from leave, sir." Drakken raised an eyebrow and gave the Corellian a sloppy salute in return.
"Alright. Welcome back." He said.
"You too, boss." Ekks returned. "How was your trip?"
"Ah…boring old Imperial stuff. You wouldn't want to hear about it." Drakken said with a sly grin. "How was your little holiday, and where the Hell is your uniform?" Ekks looked down at his smuggler getup and laughed.
"Sorry boss." He answered. "I just got back, and didn't have time to change yet. I was gonna put my soldier stuff on right after this." Tharcourt and Freya were both giving him deadpan looks, and he cleared his throat. "My trip was A-OK though. Went on a date with that TIE pilot gal I met on that mission. You remember her, ma'am."
"I do." Freya nodded. "Ye 'ave yerself a grand time, did ya?" She asked with a suspicious expression.
"I'd say that it was…fulfilling, ma'am."
"Uh-huh." Thorne said back. "Ye was nice to her an' all, I hope." Ekks grinned.
"I treated her good, and she treated me better." He shrugged, and then laughed a little to himself.
"Go an' get yer uniform on, ye ol' pirate you." Freya said with a smirk. Ekks saluted and left the room, and Thorne swiveled her chair around and locked her eyes on Drakken. "An' that reminds me…" Tharcourt froze with a cigarra hanging off of his lip, his arc lighter halfway up. He knew what was coming. "Did ye 'ave fun with Zala while ye were on yer mission?"
"Oh…yeah…" Drakken returned sarcastically, and lit his cigarra. "She was a real camtono of fun." He leaned back in his chair. "We spent three days crawling around the lower levels of that scughole planet, almost getting ourselves killed. Stars end, I lost count how many times we saved each other's asses. I can tell you one thing…that crazy little minx is who you want around when the bolts start to fly. And you know something? For a spoiled rich girl and an ISB officer, Zala's actually a pretty okay person too, if you can believe it." Thorne looked disheartened. "That's why me and her agreed to be friends…and nothing else." Freya looked up, confused.
"Oh?" She simply asked, and tried to pretend she was not interested in the conversation. Drakken smiled.
"Jealousy don't look good on you, Freya." He remarked. "And I know you are." She turned back to her desk, and lay her arms on it.
"Yee, well…I know I'm actin' the maggot, an' I by right have no real reason tae…"
"I know why." He said softly.
"An ye know how I feel…" She added.
"Yeah."
"So...nothin' happened betwist ye?" Thorne said. "I mean…if it did, that's okay too. As long as yer happy, ye know?" Drakken chuckled nervously.
"Oh, things happened." He admitted. He felt awkward for saying it. Drakken knew though that if he didn't, Thorne would be left wondering about it forever, and he would just continue to feel guilty until he confessed. Then there was the terrible chance that Zala would just come out and tell Freya what had transpired between the two of them, and he shuddered to think about the consequences of that scenario.
"Freya…" He began. "We kissed. We uh…we got pretty close during our time together, and I felt something for her. Something real and…amazing." He sighed. "What I felt for Zala was because…well, I trusted her. I realized how much I could trust her, and how good of a friend she could be. We both knew that there wasn't a rule out there keeping us from being together either. She saved my life, Freya. I think I should tell you that. I'd have been dead if it weren't for her, and I saved her too. But what I felt was trust. There was attraction, yes…I'll admit it, and you probably want to thump my head." Freya scoffed.
"Nae…I cannae blame a man fer findin' that wee creature stimulatin'." She huffed. "When it comes t' appealin', lass like me's gotta step down an let the medal go t' a beauty like her."
"Don't sell yourself short." Drakken said sternly. "Anyway though…we ended up…addressing our feelings, and she kind of helped me realize that I was attracted to her because she's a good companion…not because I actually loved her…and there's a few parsecs in between those two things." He rolled his chair close to Freya. "Me and Zala…we're friends, and I like having her as a friend. She's…interesting as a person. But I don't feel that way about her…and I realized that I couldn't."
"Why not?" Freya asked in a whisper, staring into his brown eyes. A brief look of sorrow passed over his face.
"Because…" He fell silent, trying to find the words. "Because I have some things I need to figure out…in my own head, you know? And when I do, I don't want to find myself with just anybody. I want to make sure that I'm with the right person…the one I really love." Tears rose in Freya's eyes, and she wiped them on her sleeve.
"Drakken…" She said in a whisper. "You know that I'm here…to help ye sort through anything that's goin' on in ye. You can always tell me anything, me darlin'."
"I know. And you've always been that…" He returned. "I want to be more than some droid, programmed to go out and destroy rebels and pirates. I don't want to believe that duty to this station is more important than who I used to be…" It was Drakken's turn to wipe his eyes now. "By the void, I'm sick…sick, Freya…of being a broken little toy soldier." She could see that he was trying to hold back a wave of emotion, and she gently took him into her arms. "I gotta get through this stuff…" He confessed. "And when I do, I hope…I will it…that if I am in love or I affiance with someone…" She could almost feel his heat pounding. "…it will be the one that means the most." He drew away, and looked thoughtfully at her a moment, then wiped his face with his hands in an undignified way.
"You probably think I'm crazy." He said.
"Nae. I think yer beautiful, inside an' out." She replied.
"Does a beautiful thing break down like this?" He derided. "Does a great huntsman of the Empire…an oh-so-great officer whine about his feelings like this?" He snorted mockingly. He then recited a bit of poetry he remembered from his schooling on Garos, something that had stuck with him like a mantra from the time he was a boy;
"I have never seen a wild thing
Feel sorry for itself
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
Without ever feeling sorry for itself"
"Fer feck's sake, Drakken…" Freya whispered emotionally. "Is that how ye see yerself? Some wild thing that cannae feel?"
"No…" He answered stoically. "I always…wanted to be that wild thing. Cut the fat from the soul. Make myself something that could help people…no matter the cost. Blazes, I never thought I'd live this long…and I don't think I ever cared. I just wanted to be useful."
"Drakken, yer more'n useful." Freya charged. "You're a good an' caring a soul as ever lived. You're a hero t' so many troopers, an' not jes on this team, or e'en on this ship. Those two bein's are the same man. If ye wanted to be a wild beast, if ye set out tae become a merc'less killer like Vader…well, I think ye failed at it, Commander." He shook his head.
"And that's what I have to come to terms with, I think." He said softly. "And what I have to divine I think…is what it is I thought I wanted to be. Dunno what to believe anymore…" He groaned and leaned back in his chair. "This is too much right now. I can't digest this much mental detritus in one sitting." Thorne reached out and took him by the hand.
"Then whenever you're ready." She said. He squeezed her hand gently.
"Thanks. Hate to burden you with all of this…"
"After everything I've went an' laid on ye? Ye best be payin' me back, Drakken, ye bampot." She shot back, eliciting a small laugh from Tharcourt. He stood and stretched, pulling at the wound on his side. He winced a little and put a hand to his hip.
"Need to stop doing that…" He grumbled irritably.
"Doin' what?" Freya queried.
"Eh, I got grazed a little by some idiot's blaster. Damned thing's still a little tender." He said dismissively. Freya nodded.
"Aye, that'll…" Her eyes went wide. "Drakken Tharcourt, you did what?!"
I hope this was a nice little chapter, and you enjoyed seeing a tying up loose ends for our heroes (or anti-heroes, rather) after the mess they've both been through lately. I'll have a new chapter up soon, so you have not long to wait this time! Unti then, Cheerio!