"I should get scared more of it means you'll pat my head, Miles."
Aiesu was particularly petchulent today.
"I don't know, when you get scared you get all sweaty and slimy” Miles visibly frowned: “ It does not really do well for your hair to be inviting to touch."
"Well, how about this. Its me, you, treasure-hoarder and wifey. I wouldn't mind doing things I could be praised for. I'd even be somewhat cooperative."
"I don't want your admiration or approval. Just your headpats. Its supposed to be a foreign tradition."
Miles squeezed the brow of his nose with a slow sigh.
"Headpats are reserved for those worthy of them, so, you need my approval before you get headpats. There is an order here."
"Well, why don't we form some sort of trade agreement, as two nations cooperating with one another" the small L’manel smiled - fingers skimming through notes. "Here. I'll debug the navicomp and I'll go through the upper ducts and sort out the wiring issue and you give me a back massage."
Aiesu received no response. She had to up her game:
"I know you've been putting it off for weeks now Miles, because you don't want to take life-support offline to take the assembly apart” a crooked grin spread across her childish lips: “Being small isn't always a curse."
Miles shifted his grip on Aiesu, before holding her out at arms length - like a kitten he was debating leaving in the rain.
"How does pulling your weight aboard this ship qualify you for special treatment?"
Oh dear.
"Well... Er ...It would be encouragement..” She fumbled - feeling his large hands beneath her arms, fingers along her back, shoulders along her shoulders: the beginnings of hyperventilation: “I-I'm a bad apple and if you want me to unlearn my bad ways, I have to start somewhere… Yes."
"Last I checked, being able to get to our destination and not exit FTL in a star is encouragement."
Miles wasn’t having any of it.
"Well of course it is. You've got a wife and a future and dreams…” then sour realization, remembering where she was: “What have I got?"
"Albert."
"He doesn't even like me anymore. He hates change as much as I do."
"I think its just space and him don't get along."
"When was the last time he got to roll around in dirt and grass? Eat some plantlife that was minding its own business before he romped along?"
"...One month before you got here.” Aiesu was becoming somber now: her smile bitter; “...I hate the outdoors and even I could go for some of that right now."
"If I were him, I'd be angry enough to be soiling things by now, Allergies be damned." Miles noted.
"We've… already passed that point. Now he just ignores me."
"Like his spirit has been broken” Miles noted, still holding her out at arms length.
"I'm worried he's going to get sick soon. We uh...” Aiesu had to remind herself that she wasn’t her aspectation: “His kind are known to die of broken hearts. Nothing I've tried has worked."
"All the more reason we need to work as a team. Sooner we do, sooner we get to do like regular people. You know, partaking in lazing about and indulging in recreational activities which don't involve snorting, injecting, inserting chemicals into our bodies."
"I've rewired your shitty work on the power systems enough times to count for something."
"Just so you can power your workstation."
Aiesu inwardly flinched.
"I got the water working when you didn't want to get out of bed!"
"Your gills were dry that morning."
"No they weren't. I keep oil for that."
"No wonder you stain all your shirts."
Now she was annoyed:
"Yes, because it contains methylene blue so I don't get a fungal infection. I have to oil them every morning and every night or I'll get sick and die” she almost shouted, bitter before forcing herself to soften: "By the way, thank-you for the decongestant. Its nice that every time I sneeze, I don't ruin another shirt."
"No problem, and I figured you would appreciate the pseudoephedrine content.'
"Oh ha ha. Given that we're flying alone in space, I think my consumption is actually very low of these things all things considered."
"I'm concerned that if we have to land, we'll have to barter."
"Given that we're flying alone in space, it means you're having to only deal with a small select group of people, a group of people which do not expect you to fit within a specific guideline for social contact. Less stress, less drugs."
Miles was sound in his logic, or so he thought.
"You'd think so but its not social contact that stresses me out.. I don't hate being around people, its just a lot of work and as you know, I'm very lazy."
"Last I checked, work is a stressor” he held Aiesu higher.
Her small synthetic toes wriggled.
"S-So is being pursued by government agents and being forced out of my accomodation, watching a minor get sodomized by a foreigner and his wife and flying on a ship I have very little faith in through space I don't trust when I've literally never been into space before and I'm terrified.”
“Hm?”
"You forget!! I'm not some ex soldier like you or the missus and I'm not naturally hardened to rigors like Lalah is. I only have so much energy in a day and as wonderful as your treatment is, marching one lap through the decks is still physically exhausting for me… I've even been so kind as to not ask you - as I've contemplated so many times - to turn the gravity down - because I know my muscle would further deteriorate and it would be a self-defeating thing."
"I thought you liked the concept of foreigners sodomizing your fellow Lorath..”
"I've been very tempted to ask 'can we turn it off on Fridays so I can for a few hours not hurt quite so badly and then I can keep up with the rest of you'?"
Aiesu felt her hips twinge at those words.
“A-Ah…”
“and I do recall you having a set of running-legs before we swapped you into the cybernetic legs."
"Y-Yes, running legs” Aiesu pushed her glasses up her nose. “And less stress. And lots and lots and lots of painkillers."
She was quite impressed he could hold her like this for so long. Glancing down at herself, she was already wondering if her small body had lost weight.
"I don't have less stress and lots and lots and lots of painkillers anymore."
"Sounds like I may need to recalibrate your legs."
"My legs are fine. Its my back."
"You do tend to slouch a bit too much."
"We've only been here a few months and my bones are already thinning. The microgravity differences are tiny but I'm still deteriorating because unlike you two wonders of modern science and mrs massochism off jerking herself off in the cargo-bay, I’m not used to this sort of thing. I’m a civilian."
"What it comes back to is that we need to get planetside” Miles declared.
Aiesu felt agreement, but she had more to say.
"We should also think of the cause… This is a modified vessel and at the end of the day, that means its made for performance above consistency… Its not squeeky clean standards compliant -- which is fine because you and her are robust enough not to notice and the dragon is stubborn enough not to bother bringing it up because they don't want you to think they're weak."
"And that comes back to you squirming under the deckplates and helping me keep things within specifications” Miles barked.
It was no longer like holding a child but an unruly dog.
She’d flinched though. Arms up, ready to cover her face.
Another approach, maybe.
"And, since you're sickly, perhaps you will receive an entirely medical-grade theraputic massage afterwards. Not as reward, not as motivation, but as treatment."
The small l’manel was smiling a little too much.
"...T-To be honest, if there are litle jobs you can't reach I may as well put my short-ass to use getting to them."
"Considering the small size of this ship, and the way which components were installed, and the vessel being designed to be serviced by NH-12 type Nekovalkryja which stand at eight inches in height. I'm entirely sure you're going to be put to a lot of work."
"That, or you can make tiny less-than-perfect constructs. Little tiny ones that…" She was joking, but that made an alarming amount of sense: "...I could actually. I mean, automating the repair of this rickety thing shouldn't be that hard. You built it without a proper shipyard so you did the best you could. I'm impressed we haven't flown apart yet to tell the truth.” Nervous laughter came: "As soon as we manage to get to some better tools to iron things out, most of the problems we're experiencing should pass."
"Again, that brings us back to barter."
"You used civilian tools to repair a military vessel. Of course it'll be imperfect!"
"Well, what do you think we can effectively trade for better equipment?"
"Well…” Aiesu’s gaze went skyward. She was a professional negotiator, afterall… “I've got a lot of extra medicine and I know your wife has high heels and fishnets somewhere. I'm thinking the dragon could maybe…"
Silence hung between the two of them, waiting for Aiesu to finish her sentence.
"I mean, she’s the child of some bigshot looking for adventure — She's already taken one for the team, what's one more?"
Aiesu cleared her throat following the awkward silence, trying to make it clear she was joking.
"Possibly, but... wait, ain't she rich?" Miles gazed at Aiesu, like she’d had a stroke.
"Yes, that's the joke." she stated flatly.
"So the joke was not about her being a bit of a slut?"
A slow shrug came. "Little sweet, little savory."
"Should we just ask, or should we just lift her credentials and tap her account while she is not looking?"
Aiesu considered this for a moment… A wicked smile, smug tones:
"I'd rather we asked. Given she has a stake as a passenger and she's particularly fond of you and how things work on Lor, I think you'd be the one whoring…“ almost laughter now: “Though Lorath tastes are pretty different."
"We're not on Lor though, we'll be needing to court the tastes of Yamataians and Nepleslians."
"Why? She'd be the client."
Miles blinked.
"Oh — You make it sound so scandalous. Geeze, this won't be the first time I've put my dick in someone wealthy and cashed in on it."
Aiesu snickered.
"There's a lot more to Lorath prostitution than rubbing bits together. We're a nation dominated by women: How do you think that would affect our tastes? — Think of all those queasy romance novels you Nepleslians hate."
"I don't know, she was pretty into getting the dicking."
"She was drunk, Miles And a minor, need I remind you again."
Miles' expression remained rather neutral, as if failing to see the problem.
"Just... Wine and dine her first. Please?"
"Wine... dine? Considering the foodstuffs your people eat, that translates to getting her drunk again, so, what was the point you were trying to make?"
"Pharmacological abuse is also pretty common for this sort of thing though she's no experience with that. I trust your judgement, though keep in mind if you give her my tolorances you'll put her in a coma."
"Coma means she can't put a budget on our spending."
"Coma means she won't pay us,” Aiesu spat, unimpressed.
"...Granted..." nonchallantly fell out of Miles’ mouth.
Aiesu too pursued this line of thought: "I mean, she is overdue a physical and she won't let either of us administer it…” her smile became perverse: “So if you do put her in a coma, you know where my door is."
"You're the worst employer ever, you know."
Aiesu pushed her thick matted hair from her face as if she’d heard this a thousand times.
"I know."
Her eyes fell, noting the way Miles held her: closing her hands about his wrists and giving a possessive squeeze before she continued:
"So! I pull my weight, you romance the lizard, we get paid and then we can fix this crate so that we're not constanrtly busting ass trying not to die in deep space."
"Sounds like a plan."
Finally he set her down - rewarded with only a nod of thank-you.
"You know, the part that I'm failing to get here is how I ended up being the one to romance the lizard by default."
"Well, it can't be me. She's curious but there's no value in a cripple outside of novelty and - let's be honest - I'm not exactly desirable."
"Its not your wife, given how while she likes Sana, she keeps her distance..."
Aiesu’s mind went to the sheer number of times Lalah had walked to the opposite end of the room whenever Sana had entered. She’d always been exceptionally polite about it — and Sana oblivious — but Miles and Aiesu had noticed.
"...And if she wanted female company, that aide of hers would be perfectly good."
“Hmmm…”
"But haven’t you noticed, she hangs on every word you say…?"
"Hm. About that aide, there really seems to be some odd chemistry there."
Aiesu tried not to laugh.
"You think she listens to your old war stories because they're interesting?"
"Well, yeah,” Miles said, proud of himself: "I mean, Sana and I saw some pretty intense shit."
"Exactly. You and the dragon both like military history…! You're like…” she began trying to gesture with her hands: “someone older she can look up to, as someone who wants to joined the armed forces but can't. I mean I hate to say it but I'd even wager she turned out a she because her father was a notorious a cream pie and her mother wouldn't have any of it. I mean you know how it is, like father, like…”
“Uhhh…”
Aiesu caught herself on the verge of the disrespect she so wanted to make:
“D..Daughter.”
"I don't see why not. She seems plenty strong, and smart enough and--- Oh... Family dynamic controlling her life, that seems like a trend on your world.."
"Backfired in my mother's case” Aiesu sighed: “I bet she wishes I was never born."
"I'd like to say 'Don't say such things, she'd never think such a thing', but I'm fairly sure that would be a lie."
"Its funnier when I'm the one saying it” Aiesu barked.
Silence.
"…What's this about a personality partition, Miles?"
She hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but anger wouldn’t let her not.
"Been talking to my wife about our work we did, or did you read the documentation I left on your desk months before we left Lor?" Miles replied
"I went crawling through the code of the braincase and found a third partition I don't remember agreeing to…I'm not sure what it does but I remember only agreeing to two, not three… I'd like an explanation.”
Nothing.
"Miles, are you interrogating me? Stealing from me? Making me humiliate myself for your amusement as your employer?"
The small girl was hyperventilating now.
"It gives an additional 'fall back' option if your primary and secondary partitions fail. It is set up for receiving input, and has a default personality template with less... detrimental features."
"...Detrimental?"
"And yeah, that last point you made was kind of on the table as well, if the wife was feeling kinky."
"...You... Added a partition to make me more likable?" she spat.
"More like... an absence of the perpetual self-loathing and sabotaging behaviors… And with that comes increased likability."
"I'm not self-loathing. I love myself so much. There are millions of me!"
"If I were to poll the millions of you out there, how many of them would respond that they loathe themselves, you, or a combination of both?"
"…Very few."
"I'd buy that for a pebble."
"Go sit on an egg, Miles. I want this partition out. I'm not going to be made into a toy! If you want something to bully, go pull a construct out of storage!"
More silence.
"You're welcome to a punchbag of my likeness, Miles, just don't mess with the real thing. There’s only one of me and its all I’ve got."
"Mmm, that's all fine and good, but that still does not address you using yourself as a punch bag. That's why that partition is there, to keep that from happening if it goes out of hand,” he went on to explain: "An off-switch for your bitterness, it gives your body an opportunity to conduct some degree of recovery."
"If you want to make me less bitter, I'll find the money you're supposed to be getting from the dragon - Then you can ask me instead” then she thought skyward: "...Though me asking for money from myself basically reveals my position if i don't have the right equipment and I kind of don't given my rig was blown to bits."
"You people really don't understand how money works, do you?" Miles shook his head.
"No, we just go out and earn it, its the men who spend it."
"Somehow, that seems inaccurate, considering most of what I've seen of Lor has indulgences aimed at the women on your world."
"Feh... I'm just happy you got bad-dragon to wear that uniform."
"Why are you happy about it? That raises some implications."
"What, a cute boy girl thing who looks like a girl and sounds like a girl with pure heart in a skirt? Life can be kind sometimes. I might be a horrible scientist and a bitch but I'm a nerd first. I have needs, Miles. I devour your shitty awful foreign culture like a fucking plague and seeing Lalah dance around like a maid gives me reason to live."
This was probably the most honest she’d ever been with him about anything ever.
With the disclosure spoken by Aiesu, Miles crouched down to eye level with the little Lmanel, before he held up his open hand;
"High five."
“What?”
“Highfive.”
Aiesu was particularly petchulent today.
"I don't know, when you get scared you get all sweaty and slimy” Miles visibly frowned: “ It does not really do well for your hair to be inviting to touch."
"Well, how about this. Its me, you, treasure-hoarder and wifey. I wouldn't mind doing things I could be praised for. I'd even be somewhat cooperative."
"I don't want your admiration or approval. Just your headpats. Its supposed to be a foreign tradition."
Miles squeezed the brow of his nose with a slow sigh.
"Headpats are reserved for those worthy of them, so, you need my approval before you get headpats. There is an order here."
"Well, why don't we form some sort of trade agreement, as two nations cooperating with one another" the small L’manel smiled - fingers skimming through notes. "Here. I'll debug the navicomp and I'll go through the upper ducts and sort out the wiring issue and you give me a back massage."
Aiesu received no response. She had to up her game:
"I know you've been putting it off for weeks now Miles, because you don't want to take life-support offline to take the assembly apart” a crooked grin spread across her childish lips: “Being small isn't always a curse."
Miles shifted his grip on Aiesu, before holding her out at arms length - like a kitten he was debating leaving in the rain.
"How does pulling your weight aboard this ship qualify you for special treatment?"
Oh dear.
"Well... Er ...It would be encouragement..” She fumbled - feeling his large hands beneath her arms, fingers along her back, shoulders along her shoulders: the beginnings of hyperventilation: “I-I'm a bad apple and if you want me to unlearn my bad ways, I have to start somewhere… Yes."
"Last I checked, being able to get to our destination and not exit FTL in a star is encouragement."
Miles wasn’t having any of it.
"Well of course it is. You've got a wife and a future and dreams…” then sour realization, remembering where she was: “What have I got?"
"Albert."
"He doesn't even like me anymore. He hates change as much as I do."
"I think its just space and him don't get along."
"When was the last time he got to roll around in dirt and grass? Eat some plantlife that was minding its own business before he romped along?"
"...One month before you got here.” Aiesu was becoming somber now: her smile bitter; “...I hate the outdoors and even I could go for some of that right now."
"If I were him, I'd be angry enough to be soiling things by now, Allergies be damned." Miles noted.
"We've… already passed that point. Now he just ignores me."
"Like his spirit has been broken” Miles noted, still holding her out at arms length.
"I'm worried he's going to get sick soon. We uh...” Aiesu had to remind herself that she wasn’t her aspectation: “His kind are known to die of broken hearts. Nothing I've tried has worked."
"All the more reason we need to work as a team. Sooner we do, sooner we get to do like regular people. You know, partaking in lazing about and indulging in recreational activities which don't involve snorting, injecting, inserting chemicals into our bodies."
"I've rewired your shitty work on the power systems enough times to count for something."
"Just so you can power your workstation."
Aiesu inwardly flinched.
"I got the water working when you didn't want to get out of bed!"
"Your gills were dry that morning."
"No they weren't. I keep oil for that."
"No wonder you stain all your shirts."
Now she was annoyed:
"Yes, because it contains methylene blue so I don't get a fungal infection. I have to oil them every morning and every night or I'll get sick and die” she almost shouted, bitter before forcing herself to soften: "By the way, thank-you for the decongestant. Its nice that every time I sneeze, I don't ruin another shirt."
"No problem, and I figured you would appreciate the pseudoephedrine content.'
"Oh ha ha. Given that we're flying alone in space, I think my consumption is actually very low of these things all things considered."
"I'm concerned that if we have to land, we'll have to barter."
"Given that we're flying alone in space, it means you're having to only deal with a small select group of people, a group of people which do not expect you to fit within a specific guideline for social contact. Less stress, less drugs."
Miles was sound in his logic, or so he thought.
"You'd think so but its not social contact that stresses me out.. I don't hate being around people, its just a lot of work and as you know, I'm very lazy."
"Last I checked, work is a stressor” he held Aiesu higher.
Her small synthetic toes wriggled.
"S-So is being pursued by government agents and being forced out of my accomodation, watching a minor get sodomized by a foreigner and his wife and flying on a ship I have very little faith in through space I don't trust when I've literally never been into space before and I'm terrified.”
“Hm?”
"You forget!! I'm not some ex soldier like you or the missus and I'm not naturally hardened to rigors like Lalah is. I only have so much energy in a day and as wonderful as your treatment is, marching one lap through the decks is still physically exhausting for me… I've even been so kind as to not ask you - as I've contemplated so many times - to turn the gravity down - because I know my muscle would further deteriorate and it would be a self-defeating thing."
"I thought you liked the concept of foreigners sodomizing your fellow Lorath..”
"I've been very tempted to ask 'can we turn it off on Fridays so I can for a few hours not hurt quite so badly and then I can keep up with the rest of you'?"
Aiesu felt her hips twinge at those words.
“A-Ah…”
“and I do recall you having a set of running-legs before we swapped you into the cybernetic legs."
"Y-Yes, running legs” Aiesu pushed her glasses up her nose. “And less stress. And lots and lots and lots of painkillers."
She was quite impressed he could hold her like this for so long. Glancing down at herself, she was already wondering if her small body had lost weight.
"I don't have less stress and lots and lots and lots of painkillers anymore."
"Sounds like I may need to recalibrate your legs."
"My legs are fine. Its my back."
"You do tend to slouch a bit too much."
"We've only been here a few months and my bones are already thinning. The microgravity differences are tiny but I'm still deteriorating because unlike you two wonders of modern science and mrs massochism off jerking herself off in the cargo-bay, I’m not used to this sort of thing. I’m a civilian."
"What it comes back to is that we need to get planetside” Miles declared.
Aiesu felt agreement, but she had more to say.
"We should also think of the cause… This is a modified vessel and at the end of the day, that means its made for performance above consistency… Its not squeeky clean standards compliant -- which is fine because you and her are robust enough not to notice and the dragon is stubborn enough not to bother bringing it up because they don't want you to think they're weak."
"And that comes back to you squirming under the deckplates and helping me keep things within specifications” Miles barked.
It was no longer like holding a child but an unruly dog.
She’d flinched though. Arms up, ready to cover her face.
Another approach, maybe.
"And, since you're sickly, perhaps you will receive an entirely medical-grade theraputic massage afterwards. Not as reward, not as motivation, but as treatment."
The small l’manel was smiling a little too much.
"...T-To be honest, if there are litle jobs you can't reach I may as well put my short-ass to use getting to them."
"Considering the small size of this ship, and the way which components were installed, and the vessel being designed to be serviced by NH-12 type Nekovalkryja which stand at eight inches in height. I'm entirely sure you're going to be put to a lot of work."
"That, or you can make tiny less-than-perfect constructs. Little tiny ones that…" She was joking, but that made an alarming amount of sense: "...I could actually. I mean, automating the repair of this rickety thing shouldn't be that hard. You built it without a proper shipyard so you did the best you could. I'm impressed we haven't flown apart yet to tell the truth.” Nervous laughter came: "As soon as we manage to get to some better tools to iron things out, most of the problems we're experiencing should pass."
"Again, that brings us back to barter."
"You used civilian tools to repair a military vessel. Of course it'll be imperfect!"
"Well, what do you think we can effectively trade for better equipment?"
"Well…” Aiesu’s gaze went skyward. She was a professional negotiator, afterall… “I've got a lot of extra medicine and I know your wife has high heels and fishnets somewhere. I'm thinking the dragon could maybe…"
Silence hung between the two of them, waiting for Aiesu to finish her sentence.
"I mean, she’s the child of some bigshot looking for adventure — She's already taken one for the team, what's one more?"
Aiesu cleared her throat following the awkward silence, trying to make it clear she was joking.
"Possibly, but... wait, ain't she rich?" Miles gazed at Aiesu, like she’d had a stroke.
"Yes, that's the joke." she stated flatly.
"So the joke was not about her being a bit of a slut?"
A slow shrug came. "Little sweet, little savory."
"Should we just ask, or should we just lift her credentials and tap her account while she is not looking?"
Aiesu considered this for a moment… A wicked smile, smug tones:
"I'd rather we asked. Given she has a stake as a passenger and she's particularly fond of you and how things work on Lor, I think you'd be the one whoring…“ almost laughter now: “Though Lorath tastes are pretty different."
"We're not on Lor though, we'll be needing to court the tastes of Yamataians and Nepleslians."
"Why? She'd be the client."
Miles blinked.
"Oh — You make it sound so scandalous. Geeze, this won't be the first time I've put my dick in someone wealthy and cashed in on it."
Aiesu snickered.
"There's a lot more to Lorath prostitution than rubbing bits together. We're a nation dominated by women: How do you think that would affect our tastes? — Think of all those queasy romance novels you Nepleslians hate."
"I don't know, she was pretty into getting the dicking."
"She was drunk, Miles And a minor, need I remind you again."
Miles' expression remained rather neutral, as if failing to see the problem.
"Just... Wine and dine her first. Please?"
"Wine... dine? Considering the foodstuffs your people eat, that translates to getting her drunk again, so, what was the point you were trying to make?"
"Pharmacological abuse is also pretty common for this sort of thing though she's no experience with that. I trust your judgement, though keep in mind if you give her my tolorances you'll put her in a coma."
"Coma means she can't put a budget on our spending."
"Coma means she won't pay us,” Aiesu spat, unimpressed.
"...Granted..." nonchallantly fell out of Miles’ mouth.
Aiesu too pursued this line of thought: "I mean, she is overdue a physical and she won't let either of us administer it…” her smile became perverse: “So if you do put her in a coma, you know where my door is."
"You're the worst employer ever, you know."
Aiesu pushed her thick matted hair from her face as if she’d heard this a thousand times.
"I know."
Her eyes fell, noting the way Miles held her: closing her hands about his wrists and giving a possessive squeeze before she continued:
"So! I pull my weight, you romance the lizard, we get paid and then we can fix this crate so that we're not constanrtly busting ass trying not to die in deep space."
"Sounds like a plan."
Finally he set her down - rewarded with only a nod of thank-you.
"You know, the part that I'm failing to get here is how I ended up being the one to romance the lizard by default."
"Well, it can't be me. She's curious but there's no value in a cripple outside of novelty and - let's be honest - I'm not exactly desirable."
"Its not your wife, given how while she likes Sana, she keeps her distance..."
Aiesu’s mind went to the sheer number of times Lalah had walked to the opposite end of the room whenever Sana had entered. She’d always been exceptionally polite about it — and Sana oblivious — but Miles and Aiesu had noticed.
"...And if she wanted female company, that aide of hers would be perfectly good."
“Hmmm…”
"But haven’t you noticed, she hangs on every word you say…?"
"Hm. About that aide, there really seems to be some odd chemistry there."
Aiesu tried not to laugh.
"You think she listens to your old war stories because they're interesting?"
"Well, yeah,” Miles said, proud of himself: "I mean, Sana and I saw some pretty intense shit."
"Exactly. You and the dragon both like military history…! You're like…” she began trying to gesture with her hands: “someone older she can look up to, as someone who wants to joined the armed forces but can't. I mean I hate to say it but I'd even wager she turned out a she because her father was a notorious a cream pie and her mother wouldn't have any of it. I mean you know how it is, like father, like…”
“Uhhh…”
Aiesu caught herself on the verge of the disrespect she so wanted to make:
“D..Daughter.”
"I don't see why not. She seems plenty strong, and smart enough and--- Oh... Family dynamic controlling her life, that seems like a trend on your world.."
"Backfired in my mother's case” Aiesu sighed: “I bet she wishes I was never born."
"I'd like to say 'Don't say such things, she'd never think such a thing', but I'm fairly sure that would be a lie."
"Its funnier when I'm the one saying it” Aiesu barked.
Silence.
"…What's this about a personality partition, Miles?"
She hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but anger wouldn’t let her not.
"Been talking to my wife about our work we did, or did you read the documentation I left on your desk months before we left Lor?" Miles replied
"I went crawling through the code of the braincase and found a third partition I don't remember agreeing to…I'm not sure what it does but I remember only agreeing to two, not three… I'd like an explanation.”
Nothing.
"Miles, are you interrogating me? Stealing from me? Making me humiliate myself for your amusement as your employer?"
The small girl was hyperventilating now.
"It gives an additional 'fall back' option if your primary and secondary partitions fail. It is set up for receiving input, and has a default personality template with less... detrimental features."
"...Detrimental?"
"And yeah, that last point you made was kind of on the table as well, if the wife was feeling kinky."
"...You... Added a partition to make me more likable?" she spat.
"More like... an absence of the perpetual self-loathing and sabotaging behaviors… And with that comes increased likability."
"I'm not self-loathing. I love myself so much. There are millions of me!"
"If I were to poll the millions of you out there, how many of them would respond that they loathe themselves, you, or a combination of both?"
"…Very few."
"I'd buy that for a pebble."
"Go sit on an egg, Miles. I want this partition out. I'm not going to be made into a toy! If you want something to bully, go pull a construct out of storage!"
More silence.
"You're welcome to a punchbag of my likeness, Miles, just don't mess with the real thing. There’s only one of me and its all I’ve got."
"Mmm, that's all fine and good, but that still does not address you using yourself as a punch bag. That's why that partition is there, to keep that from happening if it goes out of hand,” he went on to explain: "An off-switch for your bitterness, it gives your body an opportunity to conduct some degree of recovery."
"If you want to make me less bitter, I'll find the money you're supposed to be getting from the dragon - Then you can ask me instead” then she thought skyward: "...Though me asking for money from myself basically reveals my position if i don't have the right equipment and I kind of don't given my rig was blown to bits."
"You people really don't understand how money works, do you?" Miles shook his head.
"No, we just go out and earn it, its the men who spend it."
"Somehow, that seems inaccurate, considering most of what I've seen of Lor has indulgences aimed at the women on your world."
"Feh... I'm just happy you got bad-dragon to wear that uniform."
"Why are you happy about it? That raises some implications."
"What, a cute boy girl thing who looks like a girl and sounds like a girl with pure heart in a skirt? Life can be kind sometimes. I might be a horrible scientist and a bitch but I'm a nerd first. I have needs, Miles. I devour your shitty awful foreign culture like a fucking plague and seeing Lalah dance around like a maid gives me reason to live."
This was probably the most honest she’d ever been with him about anything ever.
With the disclosure spoken by Aiesu, Miles crouched down to eye level with the little Lmanel, before he held up his open hand;
"High five."
“What?”
“Highfive.”