(Untitled)

[tyria_sarkin]

The front door opens. There's a tall, slender, blonde-haired young woman in a flight suit walking in.

She stops, takes an instinctive step backward. One hand goes to the holster of a sidearm before she stops herself.

"What the kriff...?!"

Someone come fill in the poor, confused New Republic pilot-to-be.

((hi all! Tyria's from the very start of her

Comments

[i_love_kettch]

Oh, look! It's another Wraith! And she seems new. Wes likes new Wraiths; they're so funny.

"Sarkin," he says in as much of an officer voice as he can manage. (It's actually quite a good one, really. He's even keeping a straight face.) "Where do you think you're going?"

[tyria_sarkin]

Tyria stops.
Stares.
Finally, with a not too bad attempt at a straight face herself, "That would depend on where you think we are, sir."

((I'm so sorry for the hold up! Computer got yanked away from me, so to speak))

[i_love_kettch]

"Oh, no," he says, shaking his head. "Don't try that one on me. You know fine well we're at the end of the universe."

Well, she does now, anyway.

[ooc: 's okay! slowtimes are awesome? or something.]

[tyria_sarkin]

Tyria looks at him from several angles. "With all due respect, sir...I'm starting to think I'd be safer not telling you what I do or don't know."

she's now on the theory that a)Janson's lost his *cough* alleged sanity, not that that'd disqualify him as a commander and certainly not a pilot, b) she has done, or c)his sense of humor has outstripped anything that doesn't involve huge quantities of Whyren, Twi'lek dancers, and imaginary planets. Don't ask.

[fighting_mad]

[OOC: WE HAVE A TYRIA? *GLEES AT*]

[tyria_sarkin]

(yep! despite delays. MWAHAHA!)