The top of Wedge's ears throb with heat. They're talking about him, Wedge's sure of it, but Sinjir's electric razor is unfamiliar, the white noise coming from its motor too distracting to separate from the voices outside the 'fresher. Wedge gives up and, instead, focuses on about a week's worth of fur.
He comes out looking a decade younger. "I think your droid shredded one of your towels," he says to Sinjir, stretching out the damaged cloth for everyone to see; the tears look very much like a rotating blade chewed them up.
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He comes out looking a decade younger. "I think your droid shredded one of your towels," he says to Sinjir, stretching out the damaged cloth for everyone to see; the tears look very much like a rotating blade chewed them up.