A Few Force-Sensitives, Some Droids, and A Fugitive Walk Into A Bar...

(OOC: We were jumping to Tatooine to drink, so I thought we could do it here to fill the time to the next game.)

In a nondescript bar on Tatooine playing a familiar tune, Freya throws herself into a booth seat and props her feet up on the table.

After briefly checking her wristpad she calls out to the others in a strangely chipper tone, "First round is on me."

CH-3F sits down at the table with you and raises his hand to a passing waitress.

"MARTINNI!" He shouts after her.

Artemis, concealed within a hooded cloak, follows shortly behind CH-3F and takes a seat after giving the little droid an odd glance. "You know," he comments, "drinking liquids didn't go so well for Three. I don't think alcohol is going to be much different than coffee."

“Thanks Freya!” Mina orders a bubbling drink with umbrellas and fruit hanging off the side.

In another corner of the bar the captain is having a meeting with some disreputable looking men. Credits are passed and all parties involved leave the Cantina in separate directions.

8 sits down in his long black robes. The others occasionally catch him staring at them. He thinks to himself, "It amazes me how much time organics like to waste on recreation". After a while he addresses Freya. "I believe that you mentioned that you had some buisness to attend to before we rescued the doctor. Where are we headed next? Also , I get the feeling that this buisness might be hazardous. Is there anything that we should prepare for?"

The doctor orders some coffee for himself and thanks Freya for her generosity. He leans back in his seat, content to listen to the conversation and curious as to the answer to Eight's question.

(OOC: I was going to post more, but it's been crazy busy at work. Also, I didn't think we were playing this weekend so I thought this thread would be going for two weeks.)

Freya pours a shot from the bottle she ordered and slams down the dark fluid in one quick motion.

"You have to understand, Eight, that organics are limited. We must take time to appreciate the world around us. It is slow to sink in. All of this recreation and lounging about is just our pitiful attempt to experience life in the way that your kind must in the blink of an eye."

She raises an eyebrow at him and throws back another shot.

"Besides, I've peaked. I thought I would be a bit older before raiding a Death Star, fighting a Sith kill-droid built by Darth Vader, and escaping the fiery wreckage with just seconds to spare."

She sighs. "I can't think of anything to top that. Especially not wandering a frozen continent looking for a databank left behind by My Master -- something sure to be an epic that will be sung about for ages."

"Of course, if you think that's too dangerous for you --"

She takes another shot.

Artemis grins beneath the cowl of his cloak. After their victory over Thirteen and the Death Star, the doctor no longer harbors any doubts concerning the abilities of STARS. Well. Maybe averting the apocalypse might prove to be difficult, but if anyone has a chance, he knows that they do.

Frozen continent? Frozen planet, maybe? Artemis hazards a guess and asks, "Are we going to Hoth by chance?"

“Yeah, 8, turn off your Party-Pooper mode. We pulled off something amazing.” Mina raises her glass to everyone at the table for a toast before downing the rest in one gulp. “Let’s enjoy it before we do the next impossible thing. Next round’s on me!”

Freya glances at Artemis and says the first thing to him she's said since the Death Star. "Nothing so epic. Just an obnoxiously-forgettable frozen mudball orbiting a star that doesn't seem to pay it enough attention."

The doctor smiles. "Sounds riveting. Small. Remote. Desolate. Inhospitable. Overlooked. Perfect place to find trouble. Life is normal again." He takes a sip of coffee. When he speaks up again, his tone is more serious. "Mm, and before you think that I'm entirely ungrateful, thank you, all of you, for saving me from Thirteen. That had a possibility of turning out very badly. As if you all didn't have enough to worry about."

"It's like Eight said, you're part of the team. You were taken from us, and no one steals from me." As she talks, her words lose a bit of their cultivated "Imperial" quality.

"I will say this… if this was your idea, if you had the courage to accept your punishment and confront your own death because of it, I would razed that world to get you back."

Freya spurns the shot glass, instead taking a swig directly from the bottle.

"I'll make you this deal. It is the best one I have to offer, and it's never going to get better than this: Do not waste any more of your time trying to find ways to die -- focus on doing what you can to make the galaxy a better place than when you found it -- and when this business involving Sith is over, I will give you the absolution you seek."

There's no malice in her voice. She speaks as if it is just an academic matter of fact.

Artemis sets his coffee down on the table and leans forward. "I am in complete agreement with your sentiments, Freya, and I wish I'd been a good enough person to choose the right path myself, back when it would have counted. But unfortunately what's done is done, and I'm not going to waste time bemoaning my incompetency or 'trying to find ways to die', as you say."

He links his fingers together and stares at Freya. "I'll take the first part of your deal, Freya; i'll do the best that I can however I can to help STARS and the galaxy defeat Sith. But after that's over, I'll continue to try to find ways to make the galaxy a better place by working with Caduceus."

Artemis pauses and leans back in his seat. "There are still good things that I can accomplish once Sith is destroyed. While that remains true, I don't feel as though I need absolution at the end of a lightsaber. Do you?" And likewise, his voice is not accusing or defensive, but merely factual touched with curiosity.

"I'll see where the moment takes me," she says as she waves her hand in the air.

Freya raises her bottle. "To the best-laid schemes of droids and men..."

"Fair enough," the doctor replies, seemingly content with that answer, and then picks up his coffee mug and raises it to join the toast. "To the best-laid schemes."