WHO: Karkat and his commanding officer
WHAT: codenames everywhere
WHEN: Right after Wherein Two Legislacerators docks in at the Rebel base
Colonel Catmurder was a small, solidly built troll, a brownblood with thick, forward-pointing horns who only came up to Karkat's shoulder – a feat in itself – but couldn't have been more imposing if she'd loomed over him. She'd managed to avoid dying for twenty sweeps and had spent more than five of them with the Rebellion, and nobody made fun of her codename after she told them she'd picked it herself.
She'd been Karkat's immediate superior ever since he'd been promoted to captain, and, while she could be downright avuncular when she put her mind to it, right now she was not impressed with him at all.
"So you're telling me," she was saying, removing the cigar from her mouth as she finally looked away from Karkat's report on the monitor of her husktop, "that you're docking in six nights late because you were captured by a branch of the Imperial military that we didn't even know for sure existed until now, in an unauthorised attempt to rescue one of your childhood friends from their service –" Karkat started to interrupt, but she held up a hand to stop him. "– and that you let yourself get interrogated by a psychic when you know some of the Rebellion's most important secrets."
Karkat shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Catmurder hadn't let him sit down. It was taking all his resolve to go on meeting her eye. "Yes," he said, "but Doubletap told us that the officer who interrogated me would need perigees to build the kind of mental connection she'd need to be able to –"
"This is the Imperial agent you retrieved? The one who you said," she tapped the screen with her cigar, "has been psychically conditioned to be loyal to the Empire? This is a no-brainer, Infrared, why should we trust him?"
"He wouldn't lie to me," Karkat insisted, frustrated. "He's himself most of the time, Colonel! And, look, I'm sorry, but there's no fucking reason at all for him to lie about that even if he was trying to trick me. They'd want us to go on freaking out about it."
"You'd better hope to god that's true, Infrared. We're going to have to relocate the entire damn base to a new solar system because of this, but if you're wrong then that might not be enough."
Karkat winced. The Rebellion's main base was quite large, but it usually needed to be moved once every sweep or so just in case, and was made mostly out of the technologically advanced space equivalent of portakabins. Karkat had only been with the Rebellion for one relocation. It hadn't been much fun at all. The idea that they were going to have to move, probably in a hurry, purely on account of his own incompetence, wasn't a particularly reassuring one. "Yes, ma'am."
She held his gaze, eyes narrowed. "And now this brainwashed Imperial bootlicker is on your ship."
"He's a lot less dangerous there than he would be anywhere else in the galaxy," said Karkat, unable to keep the defensive anger out of his voice and not really caring, either. "And he only served the Empire because he had no damn choice, there's no way in hell he'd betray us intentionally."
"No way he'd betray us intentionally," Catmurder repeated, skeptically, and replaced the cigar between her fangs. "You're going to have to turn him over for questioning, you know that, right?"
Karkat took a deep breath. Here went nothing. "No, ma'am," he said.
"What?"
"... I said no, I'm not turning him over for questioning. That would be a completely shitawful idea. He wants to help us, but if we put him into a situation like that his programming would just make him either clam up or flip his shit and put a brain laser through the interrogation chamber. He knows a lot, but if we're going to get anything out of him he needs to be with people he actually fucking trusts."
The Colonel gave him a long, critical look, and Karkat realized he was baring his fangs.
"Like you," she said.
"... Yeah." He deflated a little. "Like me."
"That is convenient," she said around her cigar. "Pity finds a way, huh?"
Karkat started. "I never said –"
"I'm not stupid, kid. You can keep him, but I expect regular reports on whatever intelligence he trusts you enough to give up."
Karkat felt his ears prick up. He was sure his relief must be so apparent as to be pathetic, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. He nodded sharply. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you. I swear you won't be disappointed –"
Catmurder raised an eyebrow. "I'm already disappointed, Infrared. You've put the entire Rebellion at risk with this crap. The only reason I'm not demoting you so hard that you're permanently concussed is you're a good captain but you're no good at anything else, and it wouldn't be fair to punish some other numbskull by putting you under their command just because you did something really stupid," here she leaned forward a little to better emphasize her words, "that you're never going to do again."
"... Right," said Karkat, staring awkwardly at her desk. "Never."
"In the meantime," she went on, having determined he was sufficiently ashamed of himself for her liking, "I'm putting you and Wherein Two Legislacerators on scouting duty in the fifteenth subsector." She'd been familiar with his ship's name for perigees, but she still took her cigar out to enunciate it sarcastically every time she had to say it. "Indefinitely," she added, putting it back.
"... Indefinitely?"
"Indefinitely, Infrared. If, as is extremely probable, your actions have led to a security breach, we'll need to expand our pool of safe, unoccupied space as much as possible. And the more you can keep your boyfriend out of anything vitally important that he might decide to wire back to his totalitarian puppetmasters, the better. You got that? I'll be sending the briefing to your ship."
Karkat nodded, dismally.
"Good." Catmurder leaned back in her chair, putting her exceedingly short legs up on her desk. "Dismissed."
WHAT: codenames everywhere
WHEN: Right after Wherein Two Legislacerators docks in at the Rebel base
Colonel Catmurder was a small, solidly built troll, a brownblood with thick, forward-pointing horns who only came up to Karkat's shoulder – a feat in itself – but couldn't have been more imposing if she'd loomed over him. She'd managed to avoid dying for twenty sweeps and had spent more than five of them with the Rebellion, and nobody made fun of her codename after she told them she'd picked it herself.
She'd been Karkat's immediate superior ever since he'd been promoted to captain, and, while she could be downright avuncular when she put her mind to it, right now she was not impressed with him at all.
"So you're telling me," she was saying, removing the cigar from her mouth as she finally looked away from Karkat's report on the monitor of her husktop, "that you're docking in six nights late because you were captured by a branch of the Imperial military that we didn't even know for sure existed until now, in an unauthorised attempt to rescue one of your childhood friends from their service –" Karkat started to interrupt, but she held up a hand to stop him. "– and that you let yourself get interrogated by a psychic when you know some of the Rebellion's most important secrets."
Karkat shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Catmurder hadn't let him sit down. It was taking all his resolve to go on meeting her eye. "Yes," he said, "but Doubletap told us that the officer who interrogated me would need perigees to build the kind of mental connection she'd need to be able to –"
"This is the Imperial agent you retrieved? The one who you said," she tapped the screen with her cigar, "has been psychically conditioned to be loyal to the Empire? This is a no-brainer, Infrared, why should we trust him?"
"He wouldn't lie to me," Karkat insisted, frustrated. "He's himself most of the time, Colonel! And, look, I'm sorry, but there's no fucking reason at all for him to lie about that even if he was trying to trick me. They'd want us to go on freaking out about it."
"You'd better hope to god that's true, Infrared. We're going to have to relocate the entire damn base to a new solar system because of this, but if you're wrong then that might not be enough."
Karkat winced. The Rebellion's main base was quite large, but it usually needed to be moved once every sweep or so just in case, and was made mostly out of the technologically advanced space equivalent of portakabins. Karkat had only been with the Rebellion for one relocation. It hadn't been much fun at all. The idea that they were going to have to move, probably in a hurry, purely on account of his own incompetence, wasn't a particularly reassuring one. "Yes, ma'am."
She held his gaze, eyes narrowed. "And now this brainwashed Imperial bootlicker is on your ship."
"He's a lot less dangerous there than he would be anywhere else in the galaxy," said Karkat, unable to keep the defensive anger out of his voice and not really caring, either. "And he only served the Empire because he had no damn choice, there's no way in hell he'd betray us intentionally."
"No way he'd betray us intentionally," Catmurder repeated, skeptically, and replaced the cigar between her fangs. "You're going to have to turn him over for questioning, you know that, right?"
Karkat took a deep breath. Here went nothing. "No, ma'am," he said.
"What?"
"... I said no, I'm not turning him over for questioning. That would be a completely shitawful idea. He wants to help us, but if we put him into a situation like that his programming would just make him either clam up or flip his shit and put a brain laser through the interrogation chamber. He knows a lot, but if we're going to get anything out of him he needs to be with people he actually fucking trusts."
The Colonel gave him a long, critical look, and Karkat realized he was baring his fangs.
"Like you," she said.
"... Yeah." He deflated a little. "Like me."
"That is convenient," she said around her cigar. "Pity finds a way, huh?"
Karkat started. "I never said –"
"I'm not stupid, kid. You can keep him, but I expect regular reports on whatever intelligence he trusts you enough to give up."
Karkat felt his ears prick up. He was sure his relief must be so apparent as to be pathetic, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. He nodded sharply. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you. I swear you won't be disappointed –"
Catmurder raised an eyebrow. "I'm already disappointed, Infrared. You've put the entire Rebellion at risk with this crap. The only reason I'm not demoting you so hard that you're permanently concussed is you're a good captain but you're no good at anything else, and it wouldn't be fair to punish some other numbskull by putting you under their command just because you did something really stupid," here she leaned forward a little to better emphasize her words, "that you're never going to do again."
"... Right," said Karkat, staring awkwardly at her desk. "Never."
"In the meantime," she went on, having determined he was sufficiently ashamed of himself for her liking, "I'm putting you and Wherein Two Legislacerators on scouting duty in the fifteenth subsector." She'd been familiar with his ship's name for perigees, but she still took her cigar out to enunciate it sarcastically every time she had to say it. "Indefinitely," she added, putting it back.
"... Indefinitely?"
"Indefinitely, Infrared. If, as is extremely probable, your actions have led to a security breach, we'll need to expand our pool of safe, unoccupied space as much as possible. And the more you can keep your boyfriend out of anything vitally important that he might decide to wire back to his totalitarian puppetmasters, the better. You got that? I'll be sending the briefing to your ship."
Karkat nodded, dismally.
"Good." Catmurder leaned back in her chair, putting her exceedingly short legs up on her desk. "Dismissed."