Kylo took one look at the blissed-out junior officers in his bed and reached for his lightsaber.

Fortunately for the two lieutenants, the space weed really was special. And Kylo had left his helmet on the sofa. So when he rushed forward, saber blazing, he got a nice, big lungful of space weed, mixed with his grandfather's ashes.

The contact high grabbed him by the metaphorical nutsack.

He felt a strong, gloved hand grasp the back of his shirt and throw him onto the bed in between the two lieutenants. Kylo giggled as the still-smoking helmet lifted off the bed, and into the lap of the tall, armored man sitting cross-legged at the end.

"Hiiiiiii," said Kylo. His arms were waaaay to heavy to lift, but he tried anyway. His hands flapped pathetically.

"Mmmmph," said Hale, scooting over and nuzzling Kylo's ear. "S'not regulation," she said, through a mouthful of his hair, accidently-on-purpose tangling her legs with his.

Marzak burped, rolled over, and spooned Kylo, his arm flopping across his chest. "You smell...Nice...Everything's so nice..." He started humping Kylo's leg vigorously.

Kylo giggled and slung his arms around the two officers.

"I have the best friends!"

Anakin grinned and took a hit.

Turns out his helmet made an excellent bong.