(no subject)
[ So that had been a thing that had happened.
Really, at this point, the station coming under attack from some crazy AI was just obligatory, like the weekly forecast of possible thunderstorms and meglomania with a side of attempted genocide. O'Brien is glad it's over, mostly because he fucking hates AIs even when they aren't actively trying to take over peoples' bodies and are just trying to torture/murder them the old fashioned way. Also he's happy to drink too much and pretend like the camaraderie extends to him, under the pretext of keeping an eye on the Spartans (who obviously can't know as much about drinking as any ODST).
He knows why Emile had slipped off away from the others. It had just taken O'Brien a few drinks to overcome his better judgment in not trying to follow him.
He brought beer, at least, and plunks the case down with a very serious expression. ]
Emile, we have a situation.