Video 001 | Week 78, Thursday

[sfoils]

[ The speaker looks positively average: brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin. His voice is composed despite the message. ] I am Commander Wedge Antilles of Rogue Squadron. [ He shifts closer into view, wincing in pain. But as quickly as it comes, it goes. He settles his expression back into neutrality. ] I've crash landed here and I'd appreciate help fishing out my snubfighter. Or at least getting my cargo and astromech out of it.

I don't have much in the way of payment, but there's three bottles of my world's best whiskey in there. [ And Kettch, Wedge remembers absentmindedly. ] Oh, and some food rations. [ Wryly. ] Unless you like cardboard, I wouldn't recommend them.

Antilles out. [ And the transmission ends. ]

Comments

( Video )

[sfoils]

Are those depth charts in datacards?

Don't worry, I'm used to dealing with people who are suspicious of me. [ His dry humor never makes strangers laugh. Still, it helps to joke to keep frustration at bay. Wes is right about that. ]

Unkillable visitors. From other realities. [ Wedge's enunciation should give away that no, he hasn't been brought up to speed. If speed is what we're talking about, he's the speed of sound to a hyperdrive's faster-than-light travel at the moment. ]

[pepperspray]

Ah. [Definitely not up to speed. Pepper is once again reminded of the thought of putting together a user manual for new arrivals... and once again finds herself focusing on the here and now instead.] Well, in that case I'll leave the primer on local data storage to someone else and see what I can do about the more existential questions.

[This raises another question, and she leans forward to peer at him through the video pickup.]

I happen to have a small cafe and bar, if you'd prefer your existential crises to be accompanied by alcohol.

[sfoils]

Alcohol sounds great right about now, [ Wedge winces. ] but I should get this injury looked at first.

I'll definitely take you up on that offer, though. You just made the grave mistake of offering liquor to a Corellian.

[pepperspray]

[Injury? The sigh Pepper vents at hearing about this is a sigh that has been sighed a thousand times before. It is a sigh with nuance.] I suppose I should be glad that you're at least sensible enough to eventually mention you need medical attention, instead of my having to trip over you after you've passed out.

[This is not, by her tone, an example drawn purely at random.]

But come by once you've been cleared and I'll take my chances with my inventory. You're looking for a place called Callahan's, off the centre of town on Market Street.

[sfoils]

What if I told you that crashing and injuring myself are mild in my line of work? [ Pause. Rhetorical. ] You'd still sigh.

Callahan's off the centre of town. Market Street. [ A nod. ] Got it.