He tilts his head, glances back at York in the suit, and something prickles against the back of his mind in lines of command codes that hadn't been activated before. "I'm supposed to... to stop you... to be obedient..." It's hard to speak, hard to get the words out when he feels so off-balance, need and desire warring in his skull.

York has him before he can even move, a firm hand grasping the back of his neck, cool metal pressing hard enough to work as a warning, even if not enough to hurt. He goes still and tense at the touch, York's palm covering the AI port. Orders. He can work with orders. And from this suit. There's something in it that slides into place so easily. He doesn't know if York is working for Charon. Had they got hold of him? But right now it doesn't matter.

"Yes sir."