I try to be polite, but . . .

C3-PO

"Uh Mr. Solo," a voice, that golden automaton called C3-PO, calls out from the side, phrasing his order as a request. "Perhaps a moment of your time, if I may strongly suggest."

I am a protocol droid. I pride myself in besides being fluent in six million forms of communication, yes. However, I am also . . . as stated, a protocol droid. I pride myself in THAT even more so than my linguistic talents. Yes, I may never have gotten main credit (perhaps NO credit) for all the diplomatic successes some of my former masters had enjoyed, but I do know that MY skills played a large part in the workings of them.

That said, I must say that I find it . . . difficult right now to be even minimally as polite as I should be for . . . protocol's sake.

. . .

Oh really, come on! Maybe our dashing human pilot here may be skilled at piloting his ship, but I DO believe that not only did he crash and burn HERE, but he pretty much deserved to crash and burn. AND if this all seems a bit out of character from that . . . rather odd business of my representation in the movie through which Inquirer has told me of (the Maker moves in OH so very mysterious ways), then . . . I fear that you missed something. I am rather like that IN as far as the way I had to act to . . . cover the truth up before it was . . . time. All for the greater good (even though it DID get old at times).

Now that Inquirer, the Prophet, is walking amongst us? I feel it is time to cast aside old things that could only now get in the way to prepare for the coming of the Vong! Good and well

So be it.

These two are something of royalty (the olden kind, through bloodlines as it were vice being ELECTED to the post). Or at least I know that Fifi is. NOt sure of Bambi . . . though she's regal enough . . . He needs a better approach line that what . . .

. . .

Now that I've been officially manumitted legally by Inquirer (back on Owen's farm, using a com unit without anyone's knowledge or . . . the owner's permission), I have a much wider latitude in such matters. But that said, even I know that the lines I had overheard Solo say . . . ! Preposterious!

That and to press these poor young women here, like that! Oh, I know that he does not know the half of it, but . . .

Sigh, well at least he's not trying to "throw good money after bad" with his failed . . . sexual conquest attempt there.

That said, I shan't be too soft in breaking to Solo the news of just what his passengers are and all that. Must say that even I at times was staring in . . . surprise and such.

Suddenly, without even a flicker of air as warning, Inquirer comes out of thin air (right in FRONT of both I and Solo).

"Slight change in plan," Inquirer says softly, in a tone that is not . . . exactly angry but . . . if I was an organic like a human being (or at least had hair on the back of my neck) the hair there would be standing up on end. "Let me tell directly to the . . . . good Captain Solo."

1. "And buddy you'd better point that blaster somewhere else or I'm gonna take it from you and give your g****mn brainpan a much overdue cleaning."

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