text | un:thewrench

[in_theworks]

Hello? Hello, is this thing on?

Huh, cool.

Anyway, uh. Hi, I'm Wrench, and this newbie has two questions. One, is there anything the Wicked Witch of the West might not have shared that might be important? [he means Karsa] And two, what's to stop a guy from using this piazza thing to share a few dozen dick jokes with the entire city?

[he probably won't actually do that. maybe. maybe not. someone please talk him out of it]

Comments

[in_theworks]

[Wrench finds himself in an odd position, at the moment]

[if he were still at home, he'd have no qualms about announcing his plans to anyone who would listen -- that's pretty much the MO of the hacktivist group he runs with, back home. they tell the bad guys they're going to do crime and bring truth and justice and then they do. and while he knows DedSec's not entirely untouchable, seeing as how he, himself, was detained by the FBI not too long ago, their business model still works]

[here, it's different, though. here, he can't hack or muscle his way out of trouble. here, there's no team to come save him, if he fucks up. he's on his own again for the first time in a long time and it's weird. he almost forgot wat it was like, not to have someone have his back]

Right.

So.

How 'bout them Beatniks?

[the stand-in for the San Francisco Giants, in his world]

[sergeant_slick]

That sounds like a "your planet" kind of thing. I've got no idea what that is.

If you want to talk more about that stuff, we can meet up. In the meantime--what's your first language?

[in_theworks]

Oh. Yeah, sorry. It's a sports team that plays in the city where I'm from.

I wouldn't say no to meeting face to face, though.

And I speak English. You?

[he's noticed that English isn't the default language around here, so he doesn't need to ask why Slick asks, at least]

[sergeant_slick]

Only sport I follow is bolo-ball, and I've probably missed the finals by now. [At least Coruscant got kicked out of the cup in the opening round.]

You'll have some company--we have a whole lot of people from Earth here. Don't know why.

I'm on Galactic Basic Standard. I'm trying to get emergency vocabulary figured out for all the languages we've got here, so we can stay in contact if the translators go down.

[He attaches some directions to where he's presently at--he's found a balcony with a decent view and doesn't paint a target on his head.

Not that anybody's tried to shoot at them lately, it's all been poisonings and crazy witch-stuff. But for all they know somebody might try sniping them soon. They did break into a tower and steal a dragon, or whatever the hells ended up happening there.]

[in_theworks]

Yeah, I don't know that one. Which, obviously?

[not like he's really a sports guy, anyway. nerdy shit, on the other hand, is absolutely his jam, and Galactic Basic Standard rings a bell. hm. he'll just file that away for later]

That's actually a pretty awesome idea.

Also, I'll be there in

an indeterminant amount of time.

I'll be there at some point.

[he really has no idea how long it takes to get from Point A to Point B, but he's coming!]

Look for the dude in the sweet mask.

> action;

[sergeant_slick]

Bold claim. We've got a lot of masks around here right now.

[Wrench is going to find someone who looks suspiciously like a young Temuera Morrison with an even sharper haircut waiting for him. He hasn't got his armor on at the moment, but he's not dressing up in all of the Taravast sleenshit right now. The clothes he stole in Sa-Hareth are local enough, and it lets him wear his black bodyglove underneath them. It's comfortable, practical, and stab-resistant. What more could you want?

Besides being fashionable, anyway. On that note, Wrench's mask gets an appraising look.] Alright, I'll agree that's a pretty good one. Welcome to this backwater oddball of a planet. My name's Slick. What's yours?

[in_theworks]

[Wrench has refused to put on anything given to him -- and hasn't found anything that felt counterculture enough, as far as fashion here goes, to warrant trying to steal or somehow buy. that in mind, he's just a dude in a spiked, leather hoodie and mask, with a bunch of badly hand-drawn tattoos]

[at least the mask is cool, and a bright (^_^) flashes across the faceplate, before he answers:] Thanks, man. [it should be noted that his voice is weirdly modulated, also probably thanks to the mask. either way, as he sticks out a hand, the faceplate drops back to what will rapidly become apparent is the default. (x_x)]

And uh, Wrench.

[sergeant_slick]

[He shakes Wrench's hand, glancing down for just a moment. The tattoos are what he's locked onto the most--a few guys in the army had started getting some done, and it was an easy way to tell people apart. Easier than faces, obviously.]

Funny to hear a normal name out of a non-clone. [This was the third one whose name actually made sense. It was weird.] Anyway, I'm not the most keyed in on the local politics, but if you want to get involved in more practical stuff, I can help with that.

[in_theworks]

[Wrench isn't sure what bothers him more -- the fact that Slick seems so interested in his tattoos or the fact that he seems familiar, somehow. but he's not from Earth. but -- hm]

[(O_o), sir]

Yeah, politics aren't really my jam, either. [a beat] Practical, I can do, though.

[sergeant_slick]

[What was that look about. Was it the clone thing? People keep not knowing about the clone thing.

He wishes he didn't know about the clone thing.]

Then we're going to get along fine. What sort of background have you got?

[in_theworks]

I do crime. [cue spirit fingers] With sledgehammers.

[pause for effect]

Okay, no, but seriously, I don't know. [he shrugs] I'm kinda an anarchist-slash-hacktivist, looking out for the little guy who's been beat down by the man. [he does crime with sledgehammers. but for a good cause!]

[sergeant_slick]

Where were you when I needed somebody like that a few months ago. [All he'd had to work with was Separatists.]

You're right to ask about stealing the stuff we need--We've got this whole complicated patronage deal in Taravast, but I'm not convinced it's going to be reliable when we need it. We need to have other options open. [But this didn't really align with his skill set. Not yet, anyway.] I've gotten my hands on stuff I shouldn't've before, but not like this.

[in_theworks]

A few dozen parallel universes away, apparently. Thanks, physics.

[the mask flashes an almost pouty (>_-) before snapping back to its default]

But okay, uh -- I guess I should ask what we actually know about our other options. [can you hear the air quotes there? no? well, thankfully there's a flicker of ("_") to clarify] I mean, like, I know that the endgame here is to get whoever ends up in charge to give us this transporter thing, but ... do we know how big it is? Where it is? Who's in charge of keeping an eye on it?

If we're gonna plan a heist movie, here, I need the deets.

[sergeant_slick]

I'm still not sold on that. It's a big galaxy. There's room for all sorts of weird shit. [Sure, he'd admit that the sky didn't look right--he couldn't see any of the companion galaxies that you used to do night sky navigation. But there were places where that tactic didn't work. Maybe in another season or two, they'd show up on the horizon.]

So the beacon's too big to move, but the bigger problem is that it's turned off. As far as I know, the local leader's the only one who can turn it on. Either that means they've got the key, or it's keyed to them. Which means first order of business is stealing intel.

[in_theworks]

Yeah, maybe. [he really can't argue that. it's also not particularly important, at the moment, what with them having bigger fish to fry, and so he lets it go with a shrug]

But okay, that's -- something. [there are biometrics involved, then -- or something like them. he can deal with that. he has dealt with that, back home. maybe he can apply that, here, when the time comes, even if it ends up being magic or whatever. any sufficiently advanced technology and all that]

I wonder if there's some kind of instruction manual, somewhere. [a beat] Because, I mean, like, asking around might get a little suspicious, if someone who does know what's up starts wondering what the interest is.

[sergeant_slick]

That's the hope. The old man in charge would have it somewhere, or it'd be entrusted to a proxy.

[Which probably meant it'd be in the palace somewhere, but it wasn't a guarantee.]

Asking around would be suspicious, but it could get people in-the-know to spill some information if we're able to get ears in the right places. [He holds up the weird translator bracelet around his wrist.] If we could figure out how to leave these things running when we're not wearing them, they'd make for decent bugs.

[in_theworks]

Okay, that's a much better idea than trying to, like, reinvent the wheel.

[his only though, as far as surveilling someone went, was to try and build a recording device from scratch, with what little this place has in the way of technology. either that or trying to repair his phone, so they could drop it somewhere, with a voice note open, and hope the battery didn't die before they got something. Later, later it may have occurred to him to use the translators, but -- well, he's still dealing with culture shock, in being here, no matter how well he's faking it]

Do they have, like, a person-to-person feature, or is it all or nothing?

[can Slick set it to transmit to just him, like a phone call, so they can do the equivalent of pushing buttons until it does what they want it to, without their whole little group wondering what they're up to?]

[sergeant_slick]

I've got no idea how it works. It's more of the local Force stuff--or 'magic', whatever you call it in English. [Which was not how the Force had appeared to work the few times he'd seen it in action, but they'd also said clones couldn't use it, and that'd turned out to be untrue as soon as he got here.]

We've got private channels set up now, but I don't know how secure they are. Might be worth investing in some spares, if we can find some.

[in_theworks]

Might be worth seeing if we can't figure out how to magic some encryption or something, too.

[a beat]

But wait, hold on, back up a second. [he holds up a hand] Force? The Force? [it's clicking, now. the clones thing, why Slick's face looks familiar, Galactic Basic. is it too much to hope?]

[sergeant_slick]

We've got some people here that might be able to help on that. [Maybe Lily or Fox could figure that kind of thing out.]

Yeah. [wait] You actually know what that is? Because none of the other Earthers have had a single clue.

[in_theworks]

Ohhhhh my God. [(o_o)] Oh, my God. [(!_!)] Are you a Stormtrooper?

[sergeant_slick]

[...] Clonetrooper. What the hells is a stormtrooper?

[in_theworks]

Oh, man, you're still old school.

[he's not sure if that's better or worse by any stretch of the imagination, so that earns him a (O_o)]

[sergeant_slick]

[what]

Either the translator's fritzing out, or you're not making any sense. Either way, you're gonna have to restate that.

[in_theworks]

Ohhh, my God, where's Marcus when you need him?  [he, too, would be geeking out.  maybe.  or maybe he'd be quicker to realize that Slick is one of the bad guys, for all that the Empire has Nazi undertones and for all that Marcus is a person of color]

[regardless, after a beat, Wrench holds up a hand to stop Slick from interjecting and to stop himself, both]  Okay.  [here, have some faces as he tries to ground himself (>_-) (-_<) (x_x)]  Okay, uh ... [and some more, as he starts trying to do the math in his head, though these are somewhat obscured, as Wrench presses his hand to the part of his forehead that's visible above the mask, obviously thinking.  (+_+) (?_?) (=_=) (!_!)]

Okay, so you know how you said you didn't buy the whole alternate realities thing? I think you're right.