01: Video : I got the shotgun, you got the briefcase

[omar]

[Omar's been laying seriously low since Risa, mostly staying off the communicators, keeping to himself. Friendly to anyone who's spoken to him in person, genial and even more or less polite, just... quiet.

But now, he's decided it's time to make his presence more known. The communicator switches on to show the pool table on level six. A dark-skinned man, marked by the glittering jewels in his ears and the large scar on his face -- like someone took a knife and slashed him from his forehead to his right cheek -- is sitting behind the table, sprawled out comfortably on a chair.]

Evenin', everyone. Thought it about time I introduced myself. My name-- [And this is something he waffled on, thought maybe to lie when he first showed up on Risa... But then he realized that anyone here who would know him, they would already know him.]

My name Omar Little. Any of y'all from down Baltimore way circa 2006 or so, you might already know of me. If not... [And this next part is said with a grin -- like it could be a joke, or maybe not.] ...I'm a new warden up in this piece.

And I got a question or two for y'all, if y'all got answers.

Comments

[timesbureaucrat]

I should hope so.

Demotion is determined by the Admiral, however, and not the wardens. What actions warrant a demotion is unspecified, beyond a vague sense of crossing a moral line that they perhaps wouldn't have before, when they were first chosen to be a warden.

The most wardens can do to each other is a trip to the cells in Level Zero.

[omar]

[He translates this to: solitary.] And what do we do with inmates that be acting out that way?

[timesbureaucrat]

That's up to the warden and whatever he or she feels would be most effective. We're encouraged to tailor the punishment to the inmate.

[omar]

Be creative? A'ight, I get that. Can you give me a example or two, though? I mean, back where I come from, it's pretty much just-- you know, jail.

[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin ponders for a nanospan.]

When one of my previous inmates cut out my tongue he was sent to Zero, but the real punishment was my making public a historical fact about his people that he dearly wished to keep secret, the thing that he'd cut out my tongue over.

Sometimes punishment involves taking away something important for a time, sometimes it involves losing privacy. And sometimes a stint in Zero really is enough.

[omar]

[Cut out his--? Okay, this place is a little harder core than he gave it credit for, obviously. Not intimidatingly so -- it takes more than a little maiming to scare Omar Little. He actually looks sort of impressed.]

...O-kay. I'll think on that some. [Besides, it's good to know. What would his future warden come up with? He can't think of much.]

Guess it's true what I heard, then, that things like that don't last so long in these part. Other boy said he had his heart cut out.

[timesbureaucrat]

Death doesn't last, but any non-fatal injuries you get will. They'll heal at whatever rate is normal for your age and species. Fortunately, despite the Admiral's fondness for 21st century Earth, we aren't limited to 21st century medical technology here. [Or you can kill yourself to reset your body to its pre-injury state, like Narvin did. He doesn't add that, though, as that's generally considered a bit of a Bad Idea.]

[omar]

More like 2200? [It's just a guess -- Duo's the farthest in the future he's met, so far. As for Narvin... Omar'd ask how his tongue grew back, but there's really only two answers to that, aren't there?]

[timesbureaucrat]

Doctor McCoy, the chief physician, is from the 23rd century. The same universe as the last port as a matter of fact.

[omar]

Well, damn. Good to know. Sure there all kinds of things he can do, then. [Not that he has any intention of ever going over there.]