Wedge can't taste the ocean the same way, no. And he has nothing to compare it to except his experience floating in the void of space. Still, there's more life here than there is floating in the blackness. There's the glow of the swimming creatures and the movement of the schools of fish. That's a bit reassuring but he still touches the handle of the survival knife strapped to his hip. He knows that even if it provides some mental comfort, it's not likely to help him fend off anything large enough to see him as dinner.

"I don't see why we couldn't. I just hope the tides don't take it." Wedge is used to the impersonal feel of a comm system, but the odd way of 'speaking' via telepathy is still new to him and it's taking some adjusting. He gives a kick of his feet, a few bubbles drifting from his rebreather as he floats a little higher in the water.

"Which way are we going?"