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[rogue_wraith]

Wedge storms into the bar, in full 'angry-general' mode.

He's just found out who Hallis Saper is, and what she has to do with this asine mission NRI has him doing.

This is a pilot in a serious need of a drink. Luckily, he's managed to come here instead of his quarters on board the Allegiance. There's better booze here, for one. There's also

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[not_one_drop]

There's a vampire at the bar, watching him and grinning.

And there is tequila slid in his direction.

"You look like you need this."

[rogue_wraith]

Wedge picks up the shot glass and eyes the contents warily. One does not survive his galaxy long without becoming highly suspicious of drinks from total strangers.
"This being?" He asks, deeply suspicious.

[not_one_drop]

"Tequila. Don't ask me what that is, I don't know. But it's good."

A proffered, slightly scarred hand. "Mal."

[rogue_wraith]

The shotglass gets set back on the Bar. Doesn't recognize the name, the look, or the smell of it - means he isn't drinking it.
"Antillies." He does shake the offered hand, however. Then he taps the bartop.
"Pint of Whyren's here?"

[alderaani_intel]

Ooh, so the NRI agent sitting near him and looking at him warily should hide, huh?

Unfortunately, Winter does not posess sekrit Force skillz, and doesn't know that. So she waves. "Wedge. Fancy seeing you here."

[rogue_wraith]

NRI folks are generally not his favorite people right now, no. However, Winter is not Cracken, so there's only a slight chance he'll go for his blaster.

"Winter. Tell your bantha-brained boss, the next time you see him, that I am going to murder him in his bed, alright?" He growls as he settles onto a barstool.

[alderaani_intel]

He better not go for the blaster. Tycho would get mad!

"Oh, I do it all the time. I think he trives for threats like that." Winter says mournfully. "What's he done now?"

[rogue_wraith]

Tycho owes him a few favors. Surely he won't mind the sudden continuation of the bachelor life.

"Sent me out to the hind end of nowhere to pull off some diplomatic miracle with four pilots and a green-as-grass reporter. When I'm supposed to be on vacation, Winter. The man has no heart." Wege grouses bitterly.

He was really looking forward to that vacation.

[jedipilot]

"Wedge Antilles," Jaina greets, sliding up in to a seat next to him. "Long time, no see."

[rogue_wraith]

"..."

There is... an incredably blank expression on Wedge's face. He has just about had it with people he doesn't know greeting him like a long-lost friend.

Publicity tours are rough.

"And you are, miss?" He manages to ask politely, since the Bar promptly gets him a pint of Whyrens.

[jedipilot]

"Your niece," Jaina comments with a lopsided grin before her own glass of Whyren's appears on the bar.

She chuckles and takes a sip, eying him and smiling ever-so-innocently. "You've known me since we were little, Uncle Wedge. Jaina Solo."

Beat.

"Fel."

[rogue_wraith]

The expression doesn't get any friendlier.

In fact, it gets a good deal less friendly.

"You know, I'm getting rather sick of that ploy. Tell whoever's paying you to try something more original." He almost got his closest friends killed when trying to track down someone that said something similar. Forgive him if he doesn't appreciate the similarites.

[fighting_mad]

There is a certain bald pilot sitting with her boots up on a table, who spots him and tips her hand to him. "Hey Wedge. Force, you're old, too?" Grin, Plourr, grin. You'll be out of your early twenties too, someday.

[rogue_wraith]

Wedge, who has, by now, gotten his alcohol (and we all thank the Force for that) manages a somewhat more relaxed smile than he would have previously.
"I'm not old, I'm distinguished. When you coming in from, Plourr?" Wedge can only wish his best mechanic was on this mission. Then he could tag her up with that snot-nosed reporter Saper, and he'd never see hide nor hair of the woman or her droid ever again.

What a happy thought.

[fighting_mad]

She snorts. "Old," she repeats. "And about a year after Endor."

[rogue_wraith]

"Year after Endor?" Wedge grins, then pauses.

"Sweet burning stars. Wes must feel like this all the time." It is a revelation.

No wonder the man's so smug.

[holostar]

Well if an older sister (much older, if he were to look closely) were to show up, and half smile at him, would it make his day any better?

'Cause if he were to smile at her, it might make her day a little brighter. Seeing as everything's not doing well with her.

[rogue_wraith]

He would most certainly smile.

If he knew she was there.

However, this is a man on a mission, and until he's managed to see the bottom of at least one pint of Whyrens, there will be very little awareness of people who don't actively track him down.

[holostar]

Well, she's leaning against the bar, a hand on her neck as she watches him drink. "You know, I always remember Mom telling Dad not to down Whyren's like that. I think that's the sort of sisterly advice I would offer to you now."

If she'd been a better sister.

[rogue_wraith]

Wedge... promptly chokes on his alcohol.

Now there's a voice he didn't expect to hear. As the years went by, he decided to write off his entirely-too-short conversation with his sister as a hallucination, or... something.

Anything other than thinking he got abandoned again.