Wilson Finds a Cantina Like Mos Eisley
Wilson was shaken after the rebels bombed his tech offices. Computer repair in Staten Island was usually unremarkable. Seldom did it exhibit qualities even in the ballpark of excitement. That this had characterized the last several weeks was astonishing to Wilson. Time travel, extra-temporal hyper-hyperspace algorithms transcending the speed of light and transporting living, thinking, force-filled (read: "magic") beings in perpetual war across thousands of years of space and time should not have been possible. Wilson needed a drink.