Part T
Wes couldn't believe it. Hobbie actually had the brunette eating out of his hand and they were talking about sports. It took everything he had not to reach out and smack him. Had he not retained a single lesson from the Wes Janson Guide to Women datacard?
"Sorry Hobbie, but the Corellian Dreadnaughts are going to slaughter Ralltiir Warriors," the brunette said.
"You're out of your mind," Hobbie insisted.
Wes frowned. If Hobbie wasn't going to take this seriously, he would. He pulled up a seat at the bar and inserted himself between Hobbie and the brunette. "Well you two seem to be hitting it off. Why don't you introduce me to your new friend?"
It was at that point the brunette broke into a fit of laughter. Hobbie joined her.
"I apologize," Hobbie said through tears. "I was hoping we could pull this one off a little longer. Wes, this is Inyri Forge of Rogue Squadron."
The brunette grinned. "Pleased to meet you Lieutenant Janson."
"Oh," Wes said. "So you two are..."
"Squadronmates," Inyri explained.
"So you're not..."
She shook her head. "I make it a point to not date my executive officer."
And there was the opening. Hobbie caught the cue and excused himself, leaving Wes alone with Inyri.
"Sorry about that," Wes said sheepishly. "We were playing-"
"'Haaaaaaaaave you met Hobbie?'" Inyri finished.
Wes beamed. "Yes! You've played before?"
"Of course," Inyri replied as she took a sip from her drink. "It's only the greatest bar game in the Galaxy."
"That it is," Wes said. "Barkeep! Top off the lovely lady's drink and put it on my tab."
The bartender glared at Wes as he filled Inyri's glass. "One of these days you're going to have to repay that tab."
Wes ignored him and turned back to the brunette pilot. "I hope I'm not being too forward, but would you like to..." (n) play it cool or (o) take a more direct approach