Be dumbfoundedly grateful as almighty kark. Have a moment of lightheaded, superstitious thought about the Force via Chirrut’s prayer or Jyn's necklace or sith-knows what…(?!?) Then… very good question.
"Find out when it is. Check the docking bays and see if we recognize anything as ours." Cassian considered working on the first (with the help of an intoxicating drink in his hand) and sending Kay to start on the second; except being an unaccompanied droid in Imperial or extralegal space—aka almost anywhere—was a risky thing to be. No. He'd just gone through losing Kay. Now he had him back, however that was, Cassian was sticking close.
If they did have a ship here, its computer might answer questions like the date—and where they'd been before this—and possibly even why. So start there.
Cassian belatedly looked down at his own clothes. He was wearing his usual nondescript shirt, trousers, and Corellian-cut field jacket. Not what he'd been wearing on the beach. Okay, okay, all that meant for now was that he didn't have to play an Imperial officer. Worry about anything else later. Including where his personal transponder (usually on the breast of the jacket) had got to. He rapped his knuckles lightly (lovingly) against Kay's chestplate before dropping his hand. "Doubt anyone'll ask, but if they do, you're my bodyguard, and I'm someone too important for them to recognize or be told. Good?"
no subject
"Find out when it is. Check the docking bays and see if we recognize anything as ours." Cassian considered working on the first (with the help of an intoxicating drink in his hand) and sending Kay to start on the second; except being an unaccompanied droid in Imperial or extralegal space—aka almost anywhere—was a risky thing to be. No. He'd just gone through losing Kay. Now he had him back, however that was, Cassian was sticking close.
If they did have a ship here, its computer might answer questions like the date—and where they'd been before this—and possibly even why. So start there.
Cassian belatedly looked down at his own clothes. He was wearing his usual nondescript shirt, trousers, and Corellian-cut field jacket. Not what he'd been wearing on the beach. Okay, okay, all that meant for now was that he didn't have to play an Imperial officer. Worry about anything else later. Including where his personal transponder (usually on the breast of the jacket) had got to. He rapped his knuckles lightly (lovingly) against Kay's chestplate before dropping his hand. "Doubt anyone'll ask, but if they do, you're my bodyguard, and I'm someone too important for them to recognize or be told. Good?"