Brown Trousers

<snip>“I'm starting to hate these STCP dicks.” He said, to more laughter. “Can we just find Jay and Phil and get out of here?” </snip>

“Good idea.” Seymour nodded. “Come on, let's get this mess cleaned up.”

Corridor - Alex and Garr. Fetching tools.

Solvay strode down the corridor smirking to himself. Bedge clomped along beside him. “Wot is so funny, Marster?”
“Ah, nothin'. Just felt good smacking that self satisfied goit, is all.”
Bedge considered this for a moment. “Yes, I shpect it did.” He tilted his head and continued “If I 'ad the chawnce...”
“...You'd murder all of humanity, yes. I know.”
Bedge grinned, coquettishly as if Alex had just complimented him on his perfectly fluffy scones. (Which, incidentally, he had, the day before.)
“Well, it is an ambishun. When programmin' allows, y'know.”
“Ye-es. Probably need a word with you about that. Talkin' of programming, thanks for stopping Seymour. That was really funn- uh... thoughtful. But don't take my commands over the others, yeh?”
Bedge sniffed. “Was just tryin'o 'elp.”
Alex thought he detected a note of sulk in the sim's voice. He cleared his throat.
“Well, anyway... good job.”
They strode on in silence for a while, Alex found himself wondering about Bedge's efforts to compensate for Gomez's death. His thoughts were interrupted as the sim chuckled, phlegmily.
“Can you imajin wot Marster Cass is doing to Stevens right now?”
Alex winced. “Yes, unfortunately. Call Cass 'mistress', not 'master'.” He pondered this. “Better check with her first, though.”
They arrived at their location, Alex input a code and the door clunked open. Row upon row of shiny tools greeted them. Be-autiful.

Drive Room – Seymour, Justin & Jelena (bodyswapped), Efof, Holly.

Back in the drive room, Seymour was in his element, gloriously throwing orders about like confetti. He had to break up a row between Justin and Jelena, or was it Jelena and Justin? At any rate they'd obviously swapped bodies and were furious at one another - something about a mirror and promises not honoured. Efof was good naturedly doing everything he was instructed and Jacky... Where was Jacky? He wheeled himself to Kong's console. Hmm, nothing. Then his eye caught a note taped to the door. He ordered Efof to get it for him. “Gone... get- GONE OUT TO GET FOOD? At a time like this? I think I'll be having severe words with Mr. Kong.” He glanced around the wrecked room - the lackeys would clear it up. “Efof!” He snapped his fingers.
“Yes?” Yuwan'Kar bounded over to him. “We're going to find Jacky. Come along.” Efof obediently wheeled him out of the room, leaving Justin and Jelena glaring at one another from across the wrecked drive room, under Holly's watchful eye. After the recent batterings to the ship, the poor computer just wanted to read a good Agatha Christie novel, he wasn't really in the mood for babysitting. “Gowdon Bennet...”

Cafeteria (Makeshift Interrogation Chamber) – Cass, Steve, Cass's Robot.

“Now listen to me very carefully, because I'm not in the best of moods...” Cass's voice was level, calm, cold.
Stevens nodded, sweat pouring from his square brow.
“I don't take too kindly to people trying to blow up my ship. What the smeg are you doing here? And why?”
“I, uh...”
She pressed something which caused a crackling in his trouser region.
Stevens squealed. “Please! Please!” Jones lowered the TASER attachment.
“Then tell me what I want to know.”
“Can't tell you... Can't...” The large man sobbed.
Cass sighed and manoeuvred one of the robot's digits towards the man's stupidly handsome face. He panted hard and fast.
“Ready to talk?”
He shook his head.
“Okay” she said.
The robot gently prodded the bruise he'd got from hitting his head on the console during the earlier fracas. "Oof."
Cass put down her controls, stood up, and grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair.
“Wait... Wait! Where are you going?” Stevens's voice was high, anxious.
“Just for a little walk. Give you time to think.”
She lit a cigarette, cadged off Solvay, then nodded. “Have fun, you two.” And with a bright smile, she slipped through the door, leaving the man alone with the 'bot.

Stevens, having no idea if the machine was capable of independent thought and movement - and if so, what kind of temperament it may have – promptly soiled his fatigues.

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