(no subject)

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

Some days it is good to be the (almost) boss. Imp butt gets kicked, a few more planets are freed, people actually shut up and listen when you talk - good times.

Some days it is horrible to be the (almost) boss. Pilots die, missions get scrapped, and someone's glued your helmet blast shield down.

Some days...

Some days all he wants is a re-take.

Like today.

Sadly, the universe doesn't give re-takes.

That's why there's a Corellian running full-tilt into the bar, yelling at the top of his lung a strange mix of something that sounds like English and something that really doesn't, being chased by three determined targeting drone droids. Figures he should have taken his blaster to the gym.

Comments

[cutting_edgex23]

X stiffens when she hears the yelling.

Then--

snikt

--her claws come out as she realizes the yelling man is being chased.

That is probably not good.

Half a moment later she attacks, claws slicing through the one that seems to be most ready to fire.

As much as she can tell that, anyway.

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

Wedge, who has picked up a chair to swing at his annoying little pursuers, blinks.

A lot.

...

He's not entirely sure he wants to know where she was hiding those knives.

The two remaining drones draw back and hover, attempting to process what to do next. This is an unexpected variable.

Hopefully no one is barefoot, what with the droid shrapnel on the floor.

[cutting_edgex23]

X has boots.

That is all she considers important.

Then, of course, she launches herself at the drone on the left.

This one she attempts to hit with the claws in her feet.

Practice is always useful, after all.

Also it keeps her body between the drones and the yelling man.

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

Droids can not say 'the hell?' Very briefly, that is a very sad fact in the little targeting drone's life before it is shattered.

The last one decides that the turnover rate around here is just too high, and zips back towards the door.

Wedge, still holding his chair like a bat, is still blinking at the knife-y girl.

[cutting_edgex23]

X chases down the last droid--as best she can, that is.

Just because.

She will go back to talk to Wedge in a moment.

To make sure he is okay, of course.

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

...




...!



Wedge feels the need to go get alcohol, and, droid bits crunching under his boots, heads to the Bar to go deal with that problem. It's one he can handle.

The droid flees in terror of it's little electronic life, zipping across the Bar as fast as it's little motor can turn over.

[cutting_edgex23]

X halts pursuit when the droid does not seem inclined to deal damage.

But now she is not sure why the man was yelling.

This would be why she tracks him down (not that it is hard).

"You are okay?"

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

"Not yet drunk enough to process that." Wedge admits, wryly. "Have a seat. You usually kick droids into oblivion, or was that a one-off deal?"

The little droid (http://community.livejournal.com/milliways_bar/19737466.html?view=838574202#t838574202), meanwhile, is going off to find a new life, far away from stabby people.

[cutting_edgex23]

"I have destroyed robots before."

Beat.

"Droids--they do not like you?"

[lissla-lissar.livejournal.com]

Lissar tilts her head, and Cerium...clings to her leg. She'll dive out of the way only if the drones are aggressive.

To her.

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

A while later, after the yelling has stopped, there's a soft whiiiiiiirr behind her.

...

Is the stabby person gone now?

[lissla-lissar.livejournal.com]

Lissar turns and blinks up at the whir noise, "Well, good day. You are not supposed to shoot here." she informs the drone.

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

It jerks back up into the rafters abruptly, shifting from side to side with little hisses of air as it examines Lissar.

One can't be too careful, evidently.

[lissla-lissar.livejournal.com]

There is a soft laugh, and Lissar holds her arm out like a falconer for it to land on.

What?

Really. What?

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

The little mechanical ball zips back down, settling as well as a ball can onto Lissar's arms. It even shakes itself once landing.

...

What?

[lissla-lissar.livejournal.com]

Lissar pets it under it's...uh. Circumference? Anyway. She's making baby-talk to it.

Maybe someone should tell her WTF it is?

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

"Miss? Miss, if you just step away slowly, it shouldn't re-arm itself." Great. Now there's a civilian involved.

Akbar's gonna love this one, oh yes.

[fighting_mad]

Targeting drone, meet Plourr.

Plourr, targeting drone.

Enchanté.




The nearest drone goes WHAM!, as Plourr hits it with the business end of a chair.

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

The other drones decide that this new development requires further planning, and retreat up into the rafters.

Wedge, being a quick-witted Corellian who's certainly been in worse situations... gawks a bit at Plourr with hair.

"Um."

Isn't he witty?

[fighting_mad]

-- Uh oh.

This Wedge is less wrinkly than the last one Plourr saw here.

He's also staring.

Setting down the chair (a sturdy piece of furniture; it's still in one piece) on its four legs, Plourr sliiiides to the left, blocking Wedge's view of the table that she came from. "Antilles," she says. "Looks like I just saved your ass. What a surprise."

(Her hair is shoulder-length, and very, very red. There are orange stains on the front of her tunic; she surreptitiously tucks a very small spoon into her sleeve.)

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

"Now, see, I think it's just an attempt to draw back up to even - how many squints have I shot off your six?" Surely he can't take that sort of accusation meekly. It doesn't sit right.
"Now why do I get the feeling you're hiding something from me?"

[fighting_mad]

"Nine," says Plourr reluctantly.

(She is Plourr; she kept count. The number would most certainly be higher, but Wedge was not her wingman.)

"Because I'm trying to spare your tiny brain?" she suggests. "Sir," she adds; it is not in the least bit subordinate.

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

"So good to hear that your change in style hasn't done a thing to your charming personality." He notes dryly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

[fighting_mad]

"Change in style, huh?" Plourr says. Not to be outdone, she folds her arms, too. "Let me guess -- you've never seen me with hair? Kriffing Milliways."

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

It'd really help his cause if he outweighed her by any appreciable amount. Or if he wasn't pretty sure she could break him in four places before he could even yell.

"Hate to be pedantic, but not seeing you with hair is hardly my fault."