Darpen: "I was once a pilot. Briefly. Tierfon Yellow Aces. My talents lay elsewhere, though, so I ended up in a less violent service."
Janson: "His talents certainly did lie elsewhere. They weren't in landing. Tomer here made the Aces' list for a landing almost horrible enough to kill him two different ways. His Y-wing was shot to pieces and his repulsorlifts were dead. Had to land, though, or he'd never get dinner. Luckily we were based on a low-grav moon at the time, big long stretch of duracrete serving as a landing zone. All the other Y-wings clear off the landing zone and he lines up on it, descends toward it like he was landing an atmospheric fighter without repulsorlifts. Drops his skids as he gets close. The skids take the initial impact but he bounces, so he's like some sort of hop-and-grab insect all down the duracrete. But he's lucky enough that he stays top side up. Finally he's bled off a lot of momentum, but he loses control and his Y-wing rolls. Comes to a stop on its belly and he's safe. Then his ejector seat malfunctions and shoots him off toward space. With grav that low, he achieves escape velocity. We had to send a rescue shuttle up after him or he'd still be sailing through the void, one cold cadaver."
Darpen: "I saved the astromech. And the Y-wing was repairable."
Janson: "Sure. But seeing you as that wishbone skidded to a stop, seeing you sag in relief—and then, poof! you're headed toward the stars—"
Darpen: "As you can see, I've provided amusement for years."
(We seed the stars) 19:13, March 8, 2010 (UTC)