The hiss of the brig door opening was sharp and definitive, like the punctuation at the end of a particularly tedious sentence. Judas-12 sat on the edge of his cot, hands folded behind his head, gazing at the ceiling with an air of theatrical indifference. The tray of empty food packets sat neatly stacked beside him—a last testament to the brig’s surprisingly decent culinary offerings.
Dara-6 stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. She held a tablet in one hand and gestured toward the open cell with the other. “You’re free.”
Judas tilted his head toward her, his grin lazy but genuine. “What, no going-away party? Not even a ‘thanks for spicing up the station drama’?”
“You’re lucky I convinced them not to dock your oxygen rations,” Dara replied, stepping aside to let him through. “Don’t push it.”
He stretched exaggeratedly as he stood, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. “Gotta say, the accommodations weren’t half bad. Good food, cozy vibes... honestly, I’d recommend it.”
“Don’t,” Dara said flatly. “Last thing I need is you starting a trend.”
“Just saying,” Judas said, raising his hands defensively. “Some of these people could use a little brig vacation. Loosen them up.”
Dara rolled her eyes, stepping in close to hand him her tablet. “Speaking of people who need loosening up—here. You’ve got a vote to cast.”
Judas blinked at the tablet, then back at her. “Oh, right. The big union vote. Almost forgot.”
“Funny, considering you’re part of the reason this is happening today,” Dara said, shoving the tablet into his hands. “The least you can do is vote.”
He glanced down at the screen. The interface was simple, unadorned, with two options glaring back at him: FOR UNIONIZATION and AGAINST UNIONIZATION. His thumb hovered over the screen, indecision flickering across his face.
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“Don’t tell me you’re seriously hesitating,” Dara said, her tone half disbelief, half annoyance.
Judas scratched the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “Look, it’s not that I don’t care. It’s just... I’m not exactly a ‘joiner,’ you know? Unions, systems, group dynamics—they’re not really my thing.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Dara muttered. “You’re the one who got chased by an NSS Buddy for poking your nose where it didn’t belong. If they’re willing to pull stunts like that now, imagine what happens if we don’t have a union.”
“That’s a fair point,” Judas admitted, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But on the other hand, maybe I just enjoy being a thorn in everyone’s side.”
“You already are,” Dara said, exasperated. “Voting for the union doesn’t change that.”
He glanced at her, then back at the tablet. “I mean, I was leaning against it. You know me—‘fight the man’ doesn’t really translate to ‘follow the herd.’”
“And now?” Dara asked, crossing her arms.
“Now?” Judas smirked, his thumb tapping the FOR UNIONIZATION option with a flourish. “Now they tried to space me, and I’m feeling petty.”
The screen flashed a confirmation message, and Dara exhaled a breath she’d clearly been holding. “Good. Welcome to the herd.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Judas said, handing the tablet back to her. “This is a one-time deal. Don’t expect me to show up to meetings or bake sale fundraisers.”
“Noted,” Dara said dryly. “You’re more of a chaos specialist anyway.”
“Exactly,” Judas said, flashing her a grin. “Every organization needs one.”
Samson’s tablet had been returned to its usual dock in Judas’ workspace, the connections still warm from the diagnostic systems. His LED face flickered to life as Judas strolled in, hands in his pockets and an exaggerated spring in his step.
“Miss me?” Judas asked, leaning casually against the desk.
“Immensely,” Samson replied, his tone perfectly flat. “The brig sounds like it was transformative.”
“Oh, it was,” Judas said, plopping into the nearest chair and kicking his feet up. “Turns out, being locked up gives you a lot of time to think. About life, about decisions, about how corporate security really knows how to ruin a guy’s week.”
“I take it this introspection led to some sort of epiphany?” Samson asked, his display flickering faintly.
“More like a grudge,” Judas said. “But yeah, I voted for the union.”
Samson paused for a fraction of a second, just enough for Judas to notice. “That’s... unexpected.”
“Yeah, well,” Judas said, scratching the back of his neck. “Let’s just say that after everything, I figured I’d rather be on the side that doesn’t have grappling claws and a penchant for intimidation.”
“A pragmatic choice,” Samson said. “Though I suspect it was also motivated by spite.”
“You know me so well,” Judas said with a grin.