Don't know why I give Leela more fanfic treatment than Durandal, considering that he has far more of a personality. I guess it's that I equate Leela more with Cortana, but even then, she's more of a merge of the two's personalities. Might even see a bit of Tycho-inspired madness in the Reclaimer Trilogy. Anyway, 'nuff said.


"Officer, I would have to advise against this."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Just because one pistol is broken does not mean that you are without a means to use the other one. And there is a strong chance that you will encounter another such weapon further on in the ship."

"And how many pfhor between now and then? I'll take my time, thank you very much."

Leela sighed…or at least sighed as well as a piece of data could sigh. She didn't know why Robert was being so illogical. Didn't know why he was fooling around with a pistol, why he was so reluctant to pick up the pfhor weapons, didn't know why he was still hanging around this terminal if he was so against talking to her. Maybe he was sick of BOBs exclaiming everything from "thank God it's you!" to "frog blast the vent core," but either way, he was…illogical. As were most humans. But this certainly took the cake…whatever cake tasted like.

"Point forty-five calibre, functions in vacuum…about the only weapon I've got that will right now. Seriously, what's up with-…"

"Yes yes yes," Leela interrupted. "I'm sure it's all very fascinating why things are the way they are."

"Well, aren't they?" the security guard interrupted, glancing up at the terminal as if expecting to see a face staring back. "Travel to Tau Ceti, aliens…Durandal going wacky."

"Problematic, is the word I'd use," Leela said, thinking of her fellow AIs and how…different it felt to be the only one apparently still operating on the Marathon. "This entire situation is problematic, and like it or not, with the MJOLNIR cyborgs on the colony, you're the best equipped person to deal with it."

"Exactly. There are problems to be solved, like this pistol. There are problems to sort out, like the pfhor. So let me fix one problem so I can solve the other."

Leela wondered what physical motion she'd use right now if she was capable of such a thing. Probably sit down, or face-palm, or do any number of other options that would be available to her if avatar technology existed, and wasn't confined to the realm of science fiction, ringworlds and certain disturbing fanfics (after hundreds of years of travel…well, certain people got bored). She wondered what Robert would do if she outright ordered him to simply get on with the job. She was the command AI, but had always differed to humans over the course of her service. Yet this man was just a grunt, not a member of the senior staff. What right did he…

"There. Got it."

Leela remained silent as the officer finished his fine tuning, did a little spin of the pistol like something out of a 22nd century space western and holstered it.

"All fixed," he declared.

"Good," Leela murmured. "Now can we get on with it?"

"Sure sure…I'll…get on it."

"Thank you."

Leela watched the security guard disappear out of sight, wondering how long it would take for him to appear in front of another terminal…if at all. If the saviour of the Marathon was someone who liked to toy with pistols for minutes on end, then the chances of Tau Ceti's survival had dropped…well, she couldn't get an exact figure, but suffice to say, they'd dropped. And all because he had to fix a blasted pistol. But if Robert was…broken…in turn…well, that would be problematic.

Maybe letting him fix his toys was worth it.

Because Leela didn't want to see her…comrade broken.