thefinaljedi | 1st Transmission, A Skywalker sprouts wings [Action, Voice]

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1st Transmission, A Skywalker sprouts wings [Action, Voice]

Action
[Sometime around midday, not too far from the road, Luke Skywalker finds himself sprawled face-down and shirtless in the grass. It's colder than he remembers it being when he went to sleep, and the ground is wet. With a grunt, the Jedi pushes himself up, surprised to feel an awkward burning sensation in the middle of his back.]

"Geez, where in blazes am I? Artoo, where are we?"

[No answer, naturally]

"Artoo? Oh great...why do I have the feeling that I'm not on Corellia anymore?"

[Luke stands up, his foot brushing against a strange, leatherbound book.]

"Oh hello, whats this?"

[Picking it up, Luke begins thumbing through it, seeking some sort of answers. Upon finding the guide, Luke spends a fair bit of time pouring over it, attempting to digest his situation before slowly beginning to make his way into town, feeling out with the Force]

Voice
[Luke's feeling a bit better, having recovered his clothes and lightsaber, so he begins to address the voice recorder. He takes a very calm, casual tone until he addresses the Malnosso, his voice gaining to an authoritative, icy edge.]

Good afternoon, anyone who may be listening to this. My name is Luke Skywalker, and it appears that I've been...brought here to stay for a time. I'm not sure if thats the right way to word it, but as I am unfamiliar with the local customs, please forgive me. If anyone has seen a small blue astromech droid wandering around, please let me know. Also, if any of the...Malnosso are listening, I'd like some sort of explanation on your reasoning for bringing me here.

(ooc: Feel free to post anywhere, in town, in the woods, wherever.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's the name that catches Jack's attention more than anything else. He pretty much ignores everything Luke says after that.]

......Oi. Not related to Captain L. G. "Hopping Mad" Skywalker, are you?

[Because if he IS...]

[Luke listens to the message a couple of times to make sure he heard the name right. Something sounds off with this man...]

No sir, I don't think so. As far as I know I'm not related to any captains, nor anyone going by the name "Hopping Mad." Why? Is he a missing friend of yours?

"He"? She. She's the meanest, evilest, mercilessest, orneriest, angriest, hoppingest lady pirate to sail the Spanish Main.

And I owe her ten quid. You certain you're not here to collect? One of her malicious brood, no doubt?

[Definitely off. It doesn't take a Jedi to figure out that Jack is mad as a hatter...]

Oh, excuse me. Then I definitely don't know her. I don't even know what the Spanish Main, or a "quid" are. Sorry.

[If Luke's voice could shrug, it totally would be]

Interesting....

[If he doesn't know the Spanish Main, then he might be from one of those alternate universe place. Things. At least he doesn't owe the guy ten quid--and the less said about that, the better.]

That's money, that is. I owe her money. "Skywalker," though. Not a common name, by all accounts. Where do you hail from, Skywalker?

Ah, money. [He should've guessed] I am from the planet Tatooine, in the Outer Rim. Though when I went to sleep I was on Corellia, in Coronet City to be exact.

From the stars, then. A space captain. Part of...Starfleet?

[Perhaps he knows Leonard McCoy!]

Yea, I'm from the stars in a sense, though again I don't know about any Starfleet. What's your name, sir?

Sparrow, mate; Captain Jack Sparrow, master of the Black Pearl and the Joanna Joyce. Pirate.

[One would think the word Pirate would stick out...but Luke's best friend IS Han Solo after all]

Nice to meet you, Captain Sparrow. Am I correct in assuming your ships are of the nautical sort?

They are, actually! And both are highly beautiful, mind you. Now: what's your ship called?

[Because he could ask McCoy, if he ever returned, whether the other man had ever heard of it.]

My ship doesn't really have a name per-say. It's a single-seat spacecraft, called an X-Wing. It really only fits me, and my missing droid R2-D2. I have flown on some truly magnificent ships though.

[The Millennium Falcon for one...]

[WHAT is THIS?!] You haven't named her?!

[That's...almost unforgivable.]

Well...it sort of has a name, my call-sign for communication. Red-Five. We don't usually name fightercraft, they are sort of like dinghies

[Jack sort of coughs at the mention of "dinghies."]

So your mighty...dinghy...is called "Red-Five"? That...sounds like mortal bad luck. Red things? Bad luck, unless you're in the Far East. Then it's lucky.

If you want MY advice, you'll rename her straight away.

[Luke gets the feeling he's not going to win here and sighs in ascension]

Alright. How does Callista's Wings sound?

.....Not so bad. Has a ring to it, a sort of---thing, about it. Who is this "Callista," then? She your woman? Daughter? Mother?

[His voice has more of a sadness to it, making it plain she's more than he's telling]
A friend. A dear, dear friend who went missing a few months ago. Also one of the greatest warriors of my time.

[Aaaaaand Jack will not be one to press this issue, not with the tragical cloud that has suddenly sprung up to overshadow it.]

...So in other words, it's a fine and splendid and fitting name. Now, about your Artoo. Is he from Mangalore?

No no, Artoo is a robot. And...I think he was made on Corellia or something. I'm not sure what Mangalore is either.

A "robot"? A metal man, then? [Perhaps he was manufactured in Mangalore.] It's a place, mate, near where I'm from. Oooor actually near where my mother hailed from, but I suppose that's all one and the same.

We've got them here, too, you know. Metal men. "Droids." Horrible buggers.

Artoo isn't exactly a man. He's about a meter tall, cylindrical, with a domed top. He roles around on three wheels.

I've heard about these metal men. What are they like? Are they hostile?

Tall, and...manly. Made of metal. [A verbal shrug.] They're terribly hostile if the Malnosso want to abduct you for their wicked experiments. They're not so bad if they're serving as support on draft missions---mostly then they'll ignore you, I suppose. But if they want you, there's no escaping them.

[On the last draft, the droids had simply guarded the cargo. They hadn't even responded to any of the living passengers on the ship.]

Drafts? Like conscriptions?

The very same! Conscripted, us! Regularly! Not-volunteer-based, not at all.

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