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[sleuthtastic]

So— let me get this straight.

[ Veronica looks sweaty because, you know, apparently the Tranquility believes it's in the tropics in space. She makes a face, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. ]

My laptop, somehow, needs to get recharged. My camera seems to be busted, because it's either that, or everyone has seven days to live, and I'm trying this thing called optimism. I'm all out of crosswords, this is not the vacation that I signed up for, and apparently there is a big giant monster only some people can see that wants to kill us. [ That, and people here either seem to spend their time drunk as hell or being big mystical beings who do mystic things. (Veronica is not worried. Veronica is not worried because Veronica has accepted that this is, like, at least 81% real, and by that juncture the rest of it is just— you roll with the punches. You adapt. You try really, really hard to distract yourself by doing literally any job that falls into your lap.)

That's her. Veronica Mars, modern college girl on the go: the sequel.

In space. ]

I'm already helping Edgeworth, but if anyone wants me to do an odd job, point me in that direction. You'd be doing me a favor — it's better than just sitting around, trying to deal with the fact I really should have listened more to my AP Physics teacher when he talked about string theory. And, uh—

[ She pauses, her nose wrinkling. ]

I've never— This— whole inter-dimensional science fiction thing? Is new to me. So if there's some kind of, cultural, verbal address that would be more polite when it comes to people who aren't— humanesque, I'd appreciate it if someone could fill me in.

[ God, how is this real. Still hallucinating? Maybe. It's definitely hot enough to be. ]

Comments

[2leftfeet]

[The reference is lost on her - too old earth art history for her to really grasp the finer points. That said, it doesn't exactly take a genius or an ancient film buff to get the more overt implications, so:]

Not while we're in the grav couches anyway. Bets are off when it comes to in the halls.

[sleuthtastic]

Thanks.

[ She's not really sure why it's reassuring, but it's at least nice to hear it from someone who comes across competent. ]

I'm Veronica, by the way.

[2leftfeet]

Commander Shepard, Alliance Marines.

[She says it like it's second nature, automatic to the point that she doesn't think about the fact that the Alliance doesn't exist here and her rank doesn't matter. It's only after that she pauses for the half second to catch herself at it before barreling on:]

You must be from old Earth, right Veronica?

[sleuthtastic]

[ Er. ]

Uh— sorry, I'm not good at this. [ Come on, Veronica, just accept it. This is your life now. ] Yeah. 21st century — if that's old, then that's where I'm from.

[2leftfeet]

[Shepard doesn't make a habit of giving up much, but there is something-- conciliatory? Maybe a little beat of empathy for:] Yeah, that's pretty old.

[Ancient is more like it. But they're literally a universe away from Earth; it's probably not worth dwelling on a few thousand years of difference.]

I grew up there.

[sleuthtastic]

Grew up. As in— didn't stay?

[ She has no idea if that's an okay thing to say. Does Earth still exist as-she-knows? "Grew up there" meaning it got turned into a crater? Vaporized by aliens? Eaten by a giant whale? ]

[2leftfeet]

I joined up with the Alliance Military when I turned eighteen. Most of my service was on ships and in the outer colonies.

[There's a certain lightness to his voice that strongly suggests, no not vaporized - yet.]