[oom] back on Coruscant
When he steps through the door, it's into an empty pilots' lounge on-base on Coruscant. In fact, if he looks at it properly, he realises it's the same lounge he was sitting in when Tycho made him go fly against Cheriss, four months (an hour) ago.
He takes a moment to look around it -- home, really home again -- before checking the blastsword's still on his belt. Wouldn't be too good if he'd dropped it as he left the bar. Anyone might've found it and picked it up.
(Most likely Atton or Steph, he thinks wryly.)
Nope, he still has it. And -- well, best double-check it's working right, and that Bar's magic didn't have some sort of effect. You never know with magic, after all.
So that's what he's doing, trailing blue sparks in a circle from the tip of the blastsword, when the door opens behind him.
"Major Janson?"
Oops.
Wes spins round and grins, switching off the blastsword and sheathing it in one swift movement. "Hey there, Cheriss!"
"You broke your promise, Major," she notes, and he thinks that's amusement in her voice. Which is almost as odd to hear as disapproval, from Cheriss ke Hanadi.
"Did I?" He thinks. Nope, the last promises he remembers making involve trips to Coruscant (gotta pay up on those when I get back, kriff) and pink paint. "Sorry," he adds anyway, as a failsafe.
Cheriss studies him for a moment, then holds her hand out for the blastsword; reluctantly, Wes hands it over. "Thank you, sir," nodding and turning to go.
Then she stops, frowns, and holds the sword up to study.
Kriff. "Problem?"
"No, it-- yes," she decides, and glances back at Wes. "I don't mean to insult your incomparable skills and dexterity, sir, but -- did you drop this?"
"Er--" No, but I did leave it in the care of a teenage Earthian for about two months, oh, and she hit it off a rock a couple times. "--yes. Sorry."
She gives him a hard stare, then slowly draws the sword and tests it herself. Satisfied -- though apparently bemused -- she sheathes it and continues to stare at Wes. "Perfect working order."
"Oh, good."
"Almost at full power."
"Right," Wes agrees, wondering where she's going with this.
"Top of the range Adumari power cell."
He nods; that had taken a little persuasive power on his part, and had cost rather more than a regular power cell, but eventually Bar had produced it.
"Major, when I gave you this blastsword, the power cell was almost depleted. The power cell I bought here on Coruscant."
"Uh."
Time for a bright, innocent grin. "Is it possible you remembered wrong?"
"Perhaps," Cheriss concedes, but gives him a small, knowing smile. It unnerves Wes for a moment, before he realises it probably just means she thinks he was being nice and thoughtful, not that she knows about Milliways.
He hopes.
"Right then," he says after a moment, and grins at her. "Guess you'd better hurry back to the Academy shuttle, before someone gets our esteemed Commander Celchu in trouble for keeping you too long."
"Of course, sir." Cheriss hooks the blastsword onto her belt, then salutes Wes rather formally. "Thank you for allowing me the honour of a simulator duel, Major Janson. Many vile plagues to your enemies."
"And ... same to yours," he says, bemused, returning the salute as she leaves the lounge.
Well. No more blastsword, then. But that's okay, because he's home, and-- and-- and there's someone he's got to find, he realises, and he's out of that door almost before he opens it again.
He takes a moment to look around it -- home, really home again -- before checking the blastsword's still on his belt. Wouldn't be too good if he'd dropped it as he left the bar. Anyone might've found it and picked it up.
(Most likely Atton or Steph, he thinks wryly.)
Nope, he still has it. And -- well, best double-check it's working right, and that Bar's magic didn't have some sort of effect. You never know with magic, after all.
So that's what he's doing, trailing blue sparks in a circle from the tip of the blastsword, when the door opens behind him.
"Major Janson?"
Oops.
Wes spins round and grins, switching off the blastsword and sheathing it in one swift movement. "Hey there, Cheriss!"
"You broke your promise, Major," she notes, and he thinks that's amusement in her voice. Which is almost as odd to hear as disapproval, from Cheriss ke Hanadi.
"Did I?" He thinks. Nope, the last promises he remembers making involve trips to Coruscant (gotta pay up on those when I get back, kriff) and pink paint. "Sorry," he adds anyway, as a failsafe.
Cheriss studies him for a moment, then holds her hand out for the blastsword; reluctantly, Wes hands it over. "Thank you, sir," nodding and turning to go.
Then she stops, frowns, and holds the sword up to study.
Kriff. "Problem?"
"No, it-- yes," she decides, and glances back at Wes. "I don't mean to insult your incomparable skills and dexterity, sir, but -- did you drop this?"
"Er--" No, but I did leave it in the care of a teenage Earthian for about two months, oh, and she hit it off a rock a couple times. "--yes. Sorry."
She gives him a hard stare, then slowly draws the sword and tests it herself. Satisfied -- though apparently bemused -- she sheathes it and continues to stare at Wes. "Perfect working order."
"Oh, good."
"Almost at full power."
"Right," Wes agrees, wondering where she's going with this.
"Top of the range Adumari power cell."
He nods; that had taken a little persuasive power on his part, and had cost rather more than a regular power cell, but eventually Bar had produced it.
"Major, when I gave you this blastsword, the power cell was almost depleted. The power cell I bought here on Coruscant."
"Uh."
Time for a bright, innocent grin. "Is it possible you remembered wrong?"
"Perhaps," Cheriss concedes, but gives him a small, knowing smile. It unnerves Wes for a moment, before he realises it probably just means she thinks he was being nice and thoughtful, not that she knows about Milliways.
He hopes.
"Right then," he says after a moment, and grins at her. "Guess you'd better hurry back to the Academy shuttle, before someone gets our esteemed Commander Celchu in trouble for keeping you too long."
"Of course, sir." Cheriss hooks the blastsword onto her belt, then salutes Wes rather formally. "Thank you for allowing me the honour of a simulator duel, Major Janson. Many vile plagues to your enemies."
"And ... same to yours," he says, bemused, returning the salute as she leaves the lounge.
Well. No more blastsword, then. But that's okay, because he's home, and-- and-- and there's someone he's got to find, he realises, and he's out of that door almost before he opens it again.