[ Before the noise of the Jeep’s engine, of tires rolling over rock, Peter spots the beams of light as they crest over the lip of the crater – pretty hard to miss, after all, considering it’s nearly pitch black out here, save for the dim light cast by the pod’s controls on the (miraculously still working) console. Peter wishes he had brought along his little plasma ball, but his usual satchel of gadgets seemed unnecessary for the original mission.
He shuffles further back into the pod, hoping to use it as cover, and slips his gun from its holster at his hip. The sound of cascading sand and pebbles reaches him – someone climbing, he thinks – and his hand tightens around his blaster’s grip. Common sense would tell him that it’s probably some curious person who followed the shooting star of his ship to its landing place, but he’s not exactly thinking straight. He worries one of the Bad Guys from the ship had followed him down here, hoping to reclaim the information he’d stolen.
The catchphrase, though, catches him entirely off-guard.
no subject
He shuffles further back into the pod, hoping to use it as cover, and slips his gun from its holster at his hip. The sound of cascading sand and pebbles reaches him – someone climbing, he thinks – and his hand tightens around his blaster’s grip. Common sense would tell him that it’s probably some curious person who followed the shooting star of his ship to its landing place, but he’s not exactly thinking straight. He worries one of the Bad Guys from the ship had followed him down here, hoping to reclaim the information he’d stolen.
The catchphrase, though, catches him entirely off-guard.
It’s a few seconds before he finally calls out, ]
Um.
[ a pause. ]
… Who are you?