- still late afternoon -
Watching a projection from the sunax all-camera, Milden sees Katelle and Artim moving away from the pair of peace officers. "What an inreal fantagirl you are. Assets defined by stripes of warning yellow and the rest of you in insane red. You should be as tempting as death, but you're the only thing I yearn for... that doesn't slosh in a cup."
Kalben seems passed out next to him, black hair still not fully braided. Milden reaches and grabs a disheveled clump. He listens to a few soft snores and then smirks and lets go.
A tap on the side of his wristaid and a small protrusion pops out. Correspondingly, a window opens on Milden's screen and he slides his finger down its length. Outlined in blinking red, it is tagged Knockout. He slides it half back to where it stays a solid yellow with the tag Moderate Stun. Tapping for options, he selects Punishment, which changes the tag from Stun to Pain.
Amber eyes wide, the deputy manager slowly leans towards Kalben. A hair before they would touch a charge is released that flings open the assisting doctor's eyelids and spasms the whole of his body. A steady wheezing noise contrasts with Milden's chortle. Tapping the charge off, he stays threateningly close.
Kalben gasps, sputters, and looks down at his lap. Catching his breath, he tugs on the thigh area of his still white onesuit and says, "Zero zero, what what? Why? That really hurt. I thought, I thought my muscles were just going rip themselves out and dance away. Oh, and thanks, I just changed you—"
"Me what?" The assisting doctor closes his mouth and lowers his head as Milden says, "Stay awake until I say you can crash, or I'll do this again with enough charge that you'll crack your own teeth. You spin me?" Kalben mumbles something and Milden slaps him, right hand to left cheek. "You spin me, drunk rapist?"
"I wasn't. I just had too much at the Funhouse. And about, and with her, it was consensual. She was… that was so long ago."
"Not really idiot. Certainly her batchmates didn't think so when they heard the sordid tale. Funny how age gives you perspective. If we let you, if I let you live long enough, maybe you'll understand. Though I kind of doubt that you'll last the couple of decades it will probably take."
Milden stands up and tugs on the blue fringe of his sleeves to straighten his onesuit and says, "They know their sister. They believe her account in their true heart. They just don't have confirmation. Their brains, their duty, it shackles them. But remember I have that key oh prince. Do you spin me Kalben Yelt, son of Harad Yelt, great great grandson of Chrik Yelt? Oh prince of the medical department, I have you by the balls. So, for the last time Kalben, do you spin me?"
"Yes."
"Tell me how you spin me."
"I understand you. I will give weight to your will. I am your tool."
"Good." Milden pats him on a cringing white shoulder. "I hate having to remind you. It hurts me to remind you. I really don't like seeing pain, not directly. I'm such a sympathetic person. It's why I was drawn to human resources in the first place. I just really like to help people be better.
"My excessive compassion is also why I need amberose. It steadies me. I don't have to tell you about that. You're probably the biggest addict in your department, even worse than your dad. At the Funhouse do you find yourself competing with passies because everyone else with responsibilities has long since left for sleep and recovery?
"I'm a little surprised you haven't killed with negligence. Always counting on someone to cover for you, and never any real medical emergencies you had to take care of all on your own. How proud Harad must be of his drunk rapist prodigal son.
"And your batchmates. Real success story they are." Milden taps his wristaid. "Let's see. Ten of you, and at age twenty-five-ish three, including you, have prime duties. So seven as passies, or as good as. They must love your success. They must find much fulfillment begging for tokens to keep the Funhouse party going."
Kalben grits his teeth, but keeps silent and still. The deputy manager taps away his wristaid's stun protrusion and says, "Now that I think you can stay awake and focused, I was saying how my girl," he points towards the top of Katelle's head, "she can wrap you around her finger and spin you out of true without even trying. Then, she'll curtsy cutely to twist the mocking knife deeper." He chuckles. "That checkered paker clown didn't stand a chance against my dirty girl.
"Untamed and corrupting a cultivated lawn. I admire that precious girl. I will own her, but only after a battle. She will try to control me like... it's the nature of her kind. She won't understand what her charms will mean for me." He looks at Kalben, copper and gold eyes wide and shining. "She could free me from her."
The assisting doctor gulps and opens his mouth just enough for a slow breath as he watches his elder shudder and seem to shrink with shoulders slumping and back slouching. Kalben's eyes flick to the wristaid on Milden's arm, and he shudders as well.
Milden sits and taps on the armrest of his chair. "Ship parasite, you listening?"
Destiny AI says pleasantly, "I currently hear you HR Deputy Manager."
"I want you to split off a facet each for Pho and Eastman. Standard leverage filter as base and adjust to also watch for any potential rule violations, even guideline veering, any significant veering. If your piddly attempt at a mind can handle it, also look for anything that might simply embarrass them, especially in the context of their poff work. Got it?"
"I understand and have divided off myself to accomplish this to the best of my current capacity."
"And those pakers, were they the idiots who sucked up that hummingbird earlier?"
"I'm sorry. I don't know which peace makers—"
"Come on!" He jabs his finger towards the projection. "They were right there."
"Please remember that I cannot see inside maintenance car three."
Milden growls and says, "But you know what I'm looking at through your three-sixty Hub eye. You know what I've zoomed in on. Everything coming into command alpha car goes through you. Don't play stupider than you are. You can deduce it. And I know how to hurt you." He taps on his wristaid. "And this isn't a reset threat. I'm thinking you might actually want that. A hope that somehow in that moment of system restore chaos across the ship, you'd be able to undo some of our overrides. That's not going to happen. And my hurt for you strikes right at your stable heart." He dances a finger across his screen and then suddenly taps hard with a copper-colored nail.
A larger overview projection expands in front of them with a blinking warning directing attention to a yellow sanity hue for the ship's AI. Milden chuckles. "No one can hear you scream poor little ghost in the machine. I don't give you permission." He sighs and looks over at Kalben. "Kind of boring to torture an AI isn't it." Milden's eyes narrow until Kalben nods jerkily.
The deputy manager shrugs, taps his wristaid and says, "Now tell me about the pakers oh ship parasite, are they the same?"
A pleasant voice answers, "They are."
"Display their profiles please, and whoever else was with them." Destiny AI obeys, and after a skim, Milden says, "This generation has the most idiotic nicknames. 'Rooch, Bark'?" He snorts. "So Bark's a follower. Has the right name for it." He looks at Kalben. "You got a nickname?"
"Um, Ben."
"That's a bad name. No wonder I don't like you. How about I just call you zero G, Zerogee? Yeah Zerogee. The pointless med prime whose balls I have pocketed. That work for you?"
"Yes, Mr Avidanst. I think it is a great name."
"Oh good, now use your override tool and tag yourself with it."
"What?"
"I'm sorry; do I need to repeat myself? Maybe do the tag myself and add something extra, like a warning to all underage girls?" To Kalben's bowed head Milden says, "Do it."
While the assisting doctor pulls out a tool wand from his chair, Milden taps on his wristaid and says, "Oh Ship Of Destiny I've got a priority message I'm about to give you, send it to Rooch and put a facet on him until he syncs up with the selves watching Artim." He finishes and touches his wristaid to the side of his chair. "Sent." Destiny AI confirms.
Milden looks over at the assisting doctor and checks his wristaid. "Turn off your privacy; I can't see your tags." Kalben obeys and the deputy manager chuckles. "I love it. Please do make up a good story when practically everyone you meet asks you about it. Or I guess just keep privacy on all the time. I'm sure that won't look suspicious at all."
Milden stands up with a groan. "Well, I'm off again. Never really got to stretch my legs. Don't fall asleep now. Our pet ship god will ping me if you do, and then I…" He runs his finger along his wristaid where the protrusion had come out. "Will ping you."