(no subject)

[flybywash]

Wash is in his booth, blueberries at one elbow and coffee at the other. In front of him are a slowly shifting digital map of one sector of his galaxy -- a couple of planets are scattered across it, along with markers for fuel points and major trading ports -- and a notebook scratched full of equations. His forehead's creased a little in concentration as he leans over them.

Two fuel points within reasonable distance of Illyria: one four hours before, if they burn carefully enough, the other six hours out the other side. No telling yet exactly how much havoc the shields'll play with the engine and their reserves, but....

Absently, he nibbles a blueberry and jots down a few more numbers.

Comments

[desert-worm.livejournal.com]

"I don't know, you'd be surprised." He grins. "There's been a good half-dozen in from my world the last few weeks. My niece even brought in a couple of starfighter sims. You hear about that, by any chance?"

[flybywash]

He brightens.

"Oh, Jaina's your niece? Yeah, I talked to her about that, I still haven't given 'em a look yet. I'm not so much with the fighter ships any more. I actually found a junked flight simulator a couple weeks ago while we were combing some dumps, though. Once things are less with the crazy back home, I'll fix it up and bring it in."

[desert-worm.livejournal.com]

"She is. Well..." He shrugs, and it's fairly clear that this bit is as confusing to him as it is to anyone else. "She will be. In about five years from my time, when my sister gets around to having kids, assuming things that have happened here don't mess up the timeline there too much. I think she came in from about twenty-five years later than I did.

"Anyway. I'm sorry, I never got around to saying my name. I'm Luke."

[flybywash]

"Milliways: where nothing says 'fun' like warping time until it screams for mercy," Wash says cheerfully. "Gāxìng jìandào nĭ, Luke. Want to sit?"

The other side of the booth's pretty cluttered, but Wash manages to sweep some of it aside.