There's a woman who clearly has no idea who he is, but also who clearly doesn't care, who, upon hearing this declaration, stands up and walks from her nearby table to pick up the mug.
"Then," she says, her Corellian accent rather pronounced, "You won't mind if I take this." She flashes him a grin.
Jacen looks up at her and doesn't bother to hide a slight grimace. Great. A Corellian. And a family friend at that. Just the thing to make this the best day ever.
But his tone's polite enough when he says, "Not at all. No point letting it go to waste."
He notes the lack of Horn, which places her even earlier in the timeline than he suspected. ... All right, so he definitely can't arrest her for any Corellian shenanigans. Yet.
"Jacen Solo," he offers as he shakes her hand; no point withholding his last name, since it's stitched on his uniform. It's up to her what sort of link she assumes.
"Then," she says, her Corellian accent rather pronounced, "You won't mind if I take this." She flashes him a grin.
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But his tone's polite enough when he says, "Not at all. No point letting it go to waste."
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"Jacen Solo," he offers as he shakes her hand; no point withholding his last name, since it's stitched on his uniform. It's up to her what sort of link she assumes.
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"You're Corellian, right, Miss Terrik? Or have you just co-opted the accent?"
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"My father," he explains. "I've only been in the system a fewtimes, myself, mostly as a child. I'm interested in it, though."
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