Welcome to Gaia! ::

Autry glanced around the restaurant. "It's nice to get out." Then, impishly, "It's nice to stay in, too." He quickly sliced the side of his fork through the tiramisu, smirking to himself.

"Ah, movies!" said Autry suddenly, losing interest in dessert. The movie database was probably the only thing he admitted liking about the Fleet. "Are you familiar with the French New Wave? Godard and Truffaut?"

"Really? You should apply for some external rec time, have a marathon," said Autry authoritatively. "I could tell you about a dozen movies you should see that you've probably never heard of. You'd be amazed at how many truly great movies there are, especially French and Italian. Some of the Soviet films are pretty incredible too." He pushed the rest of the tiramisu towards Serafima and folded his arms on the table. "If you're interested."

"Breathless," said Autry instantly. It was his favorite film. As an afterthought, he signaled one of the waitstaff hovering in the distance for the check. He continued, "It's one of the greatest films of Earth's 20th century, and one of the most influential. You might recognize the characters when you see it." His eyes twinkled with a hidden joke.

"It's a French New Wave film! La creme de la creme of French cinema!" was Autry's shocked reply. He was honestly offended at the suggestion, so it was a fair guess he was not referring to a horror film. Autry seemed not to realize that while phrases like "French New Wave" and names like Godard and Truffaut meant something to him, they were meaningless words to Serafima's perspective. Crestfallen, he pulled the plate and scooped up the last bit of tiramisu. "Nevermind. It's probably not worth it if you're not familiar with Bogart anyway."

With one longing look at his spoon he finished off the tiramisu. (The look was a very small, very silent wish for chocolate ice cream comfort, the only consolation after having your nearest and dearest favorite film lampooned by your date.)

Autry ran it over in his head a few times, glancing up and biting his lip as he did. "What's so horrible about recognizing something in a movie? It's a classic. It's copied. And it's a copy itself in some ways." His words were hard, but his gaze unjudging.

"I understand that," said Autry in fast agreement, though he didn't really care to philosophize. He was simply anxious to move off the topic of cinema when it was clear they were on divergent tracks.

Before he could start a new topic the waiter appeared, check in hand. Autry immediately produced a credit card with a flourish. "It's on the production company," he offered to the waiter, winking to promise a big tip from the company's coffers and simultaneously explain away the fact the name on the card did not match that of his assumed persona. To his benefit the card read simply "PietTech Corp." The generic "corporate" card that was issued to Fleet agents on offworld postings. The waiter accepted the card with a bowed thanks and went to run it through the machine.

That made Autry happy and he grinned. "Does it show? I can't help it. I just love playing with the little people." It was the most honest and egotistical thing he could have said. More than his mere words it was the way he said it: offhandly, flippant. As if he expected everyone to consider non-Fleet, or even merely the toiling masses of unknowns, to be little playthings. As if to consider the average person anything else was to admit mediocrity, admit you were not one of the privileged elite among whom Autry counted himself.

Perhaps back in his home dimension Autry could have gotten away with saying it. There he controlled guns and people and properties and could order anyone who belittled or disagreed with him killed. From the perspective of the Fleet, it went against one of the most basic founding principles: that all people are worth knowing and preserving no matter how small the part they played. The statement went a long way to explaining why precisely an otherwise intelligent and talented officer had not risen very high in the Fleet's ranks. It was impossible to go very far in the Fleet with a sentiment like that.

It was not a very pretty picture of Autry's mind, but it was a clear one.