(Untitled)

[demlshn_boy_sir]

The door opens, and a tall, handsome young man--clad in a standard eyesore orange New Republic fighter jumpsuit--walks in, looking over his shoulder and laughing at some joke or other. Wiping at his oilstained hands--which match his jumpsuit perfectly-- he shakes his head and looks up--

And stops dead.

"--the kriff? Runt? What'd you do to this

Comments

[blackbanthaboy]

"Tainer!"

A hearty clap on the shoulder, and Face blows in like the wind, steering him over to the Bar. "Just the man I wanted to see! I've got plans, Lieutenant, and you are absolutely vital to the success of this mission. Here, have a drink, first one's free!"

[demlshn_boy_sir]

Kell's jaw drops open, then works up and down. "Okay, two questions, Face: One, how'd you get in my room, and two, what the Sith do you mean, plans???" He allows himself to be steered over to the bar, though his leg movement is a little wooden and resistant.

[blackbanthaboy]

"Not in your room, Kell." Face grins, bright and wide. "Welcome to the Bar at the End of the Universe, where I've spent the last eight months positively pining for a sight of your familiar features. Bar? Two Corellian ales, please?"

[demlshn_boy_sir]

He snorts and eyes Face. "Oh, sure, I'll believe that. You realize I last saw you, what, two days ago, tops?"

Pause. "And you must need something BIG, judging by the idea that you're suddenly the absolute spirit of generosity."

"And if you've been taking suck-up lessons from Janson, they're working. The only problem here is that, well, I'm not your superior officer, so I can't get you out of anything." Kell is highly amused. You never know what his squadmates'll try next.