Jorus Merrill
is mek bote
Jorus could have sworn he'd met [member="Allyson Locke"] before, probably just in passing. The name and face seemed familiar, anyway, and he knew they had some six-degrees-of-separation connectivity going. If memory served, she was dating his daughter's best friend, and there'd been some potential drama in the Rekali direction too. One of the downsides of getting shoved into a new body was that your memories tended to lose their sharp edges. Either way, of course, she'd get the friend-of-a-friend discount.
A gorgeous X-wing descended neatly through the ceiling atmospheric field in one of the Wretched Hive's workbays. He'd moved some of the gear and salvage out of the way to give the Alliance snubfighter room to land.
"Rogue Squadron. Hot dang." That was Shenna'vala, one of his senior mechanics, a tiger-striped twi'lek liberally daubed in hyperdrive coolant. Jorus didn't have much to say, just headed for the X-wing.
"Hi there," he said as the cockpit cracked open. "I'm Merrill. Welcome to the Wretched Hive. I'm told you need a boat."
A gorgeous X-wing descended neatly through the ceiling atmospheric field in one of the Wretched Hive's workbays. He'd moved some of the gear and salvage out of the way to give the Alliance snubfighter room to land.
"Rogue Squadron. Hot dang." That was Shenna'vala, one of his senior mechanics, a tiger-striped twi'lek liberally daubed in hyperdrive coolant. Jorus didn't have much to say, just headed for the X-wing.
"Hi there," he said as the cockpit cracked open. "I'm Merrill. Welcome to the Wretched Hive. I'm told you need a boat."