"Sir?" One tiny word. Sir. He hasn't been sirred since, well, the MOI. There were subordinates, soldiers and security that weren't freelancers and he'd gotten Sirred by them once or twice but it didn't ever have the same ring to it that this did.
Maybe it's the accent. Maybe it's the habit that's quick and clean. Maybe it's how absolutely certain he sounds. That's- highly irregular.
It twists in his stomach with an odd mix of heat and chill that he's not sure he knows how to do with. Right. Sir. Him. Mal- okay no.
"See? Already miles ahead of who we had before. You'll be a great number 2." He pats Malcolm on the back and, yeah. He should be Sirring Malcolm. He can't even remember his old rank before the project anymore. It's not relevant.
Day 131 - evening - action
Maybe it's the accent. Maybe it's the habit that's quick and clean. Maybe it's how absolutely certain he sounds. That's- highly irregular.
It twists in his stomach with an odd mix of heat and chill that he's not sure he knows how to do with. Right. Sir. Him. Mal- okay no.
"See? Already miles ahead of who we had before. You'll be a great number 2." He pats Malcolm on the back and, yeah. He should be Sirring Malcolm. He can't even remember his old rank before the project anymore. It's not relevant.