x1 | video.

[t65]

[Hey, it's Luke Skywalker, sitting at his pastel desk. There's plenty of junk littered on it, mostly scraps of droid parts and tools, but the inquisitive observer will notice a few mystery vials of colorful chemicals, and a hypo of fast-penta scattered among the rubble.]

I noticed there aren't any service droids on the ship-- when I mentioned that to the captains, they said I should... make some? [Luke has a distinct look of 'what have I gotten myself into' on his face.] We definitely need some mouse droids and basic repair droids-- we already have good engineers, but this would help them out in a pinch. Do you think we need gonk droids?

[Well? Do you?]

Have you noticed any droids we could use? A 1B prototype couldn't hurt...

[That's right, request a droid, Luke might be able to make it for you eventually. He's serious. Though they probably won't have much in the way of lively personalities, who doesn't want a robot?]

Oh- and Doctor Yewll? Mr Banner? Ed? I know we discussed some kind of prosthetic... if I'm going to be making droids, I might need that sooner than later. [He kind of cringe smiles before cutting the feed.]

Comments

[ersatzeverything]

Be proud of your accomplishments, Courier. Save New Vegas, restore order, program a sexbot, all in a day's work for the hero of the Mojave.

[He'd started out trolling Luke, but since Elle's walked into the line of fire...]

[quixotically]

[... wait.

... she didn't tell him, did she?

... no. She's told him she's a courier, and from the Vegas area. But she hasn't...]

I -- What? I'm not -- What?

[ersatzeverything]

You are Courier 6, right?

[It's gonna be pretty embarrassing for him right now if she isn't. But he's confident enough that he put the pieces together properly to stake his pride on it.]

[quixotically]

... I --

[Crap. How is she supposed to react to this? She doesn't want this to become a big deal. It's not like that means anything here. But that's part of what she's been enjoying. She's not the Courier. She's just Elle. She probably only has herself to blame, though. If he's managed to put it together, it's gotta be out of what she's told him.

Still, she flounders for a moment.] I... I, that doesn't... That doesn't really matter.

[ersatzeverything]

Sure, sure.

Don't worry, I totally won't tell people about how you, like, single-handedly saved a hundred orphans from a pack of radioactive albino deathclaws. With only a bb gun.

[But only because if anyone asks, he'll think up something even more outrageous.]

[quixotically]

... but I didn't save any orphans. And I don't own a bb gun.

[ersatzeverything]

Yeah, but telling the truth is so much less fun.

[quixotically]

But -- I mean, what's even the point? It's not like... any of that even matters here. [Elle, you're continuing to make yourself a big ol' target.......... Elle stop]

[ersatzeverything]

And you defeated a super mutant behemoth with a toothpick to save an innocent kitten from becoming dinner.

[The more Elle protests, the wilder Deacon will make his stories.]

[quixotically]

I've never even seen a super mutant behemoth... [Yeah, she's starting to get whiny now.]

[ersatzeverything]

And you defeated a Legion army of 5000 soldiers with two shots.

And the first shot was a warning shot in the air.

[Keep going and Deacon will turn it into a Courier version of Chuck Norris jokes.]

[quixotically]

[Elle gives up. She buries her face in her hands with a groan.] Whyyyy?