Shortly after the [Hover] had been upgraded to accommodate their growing numbers, a new glow approached the group, Ember. Her warm amber light steady but edged with something unspoken.
"Prism," Ember began, drifting closer, "I have something I need to tell you."
"That's boss to you." Cream interjected sharply, her creamy radiance flaring.
"That's right." Gold added with unnecessary enthusiasm.
Aloe simply watched, silent and attentive, pale green light calm as always.
It's that word again. Ember thought. "Boss?" she repeated aloud, confusion rippling through her glow.
"You have to call her boss." Cream clarified, as though stating an obvious law of the universe.
"That's right." Gold echoed once more.
"Why?" Ember pressed, her tone growing sharper with bewilderment.
"It's an unspoken rule everyone has to follow." Cream explained, folding authority into every syllable.
That just sounds like an excuse, Ember reflected quietly.
"That's right." Gold chimed in yet again.
"Would you shut up!" Cream finally exploded, her light spiking in irritation.
To her, Gold's constant agreement sounded like mockery–an imitation of her insistence that Prism be addressed as "boss" rather than by name. She took it personally, as though he were ridiculing her attachment to the title.
Gold, momentarily spent from his earlier exertions, let the argument die without protest. For once, he simply dimmed and drifted back a pace, obedient.
Now I know two methods to stop Cream and Gold from arguing. Prism noted with faint amusement.
She had always paid close attention to small patterns–the way light shifted, the cadence of voices, the precise moment tension broke or rebuilt. Details like these revealed more than grand declarations ever could.
"That's stupid." Ember said with a short, incredulous chuckle.
"If you feel that way," Cream replied coolly, "maybe you don't deserve to be one of us."
[It's fine, Cream. It doesn't bother–]
[No. I absolutely refuse to change my stance on this.]
[Why are you so adamant about it?]
[I... I have my reasons, okay?]
[If you say so. I'll let you handle this.]
[Thank you, boss.]
Formal, huh? Prism noted.
Prism had tried to defuse the situation telepathically, but Cream's resolve was ironclad. Since the matter genuinely did not trouble Prism either way, she chose not to interfere. Some things were best left to subordinates to sort among themselves.
Ember glanced toward Prism, searching for some sign or explanation–anything to clarify why this trivial word carried such weight. Prism offered nothing, merely turning away with calm deliberation.
"I'll let you handle this, then." Prism said aloud, addressing Cream. "Meet us at the [Hover] afterward." She gave a subtle pulse of light to Aloe and Gold, signaling them to follow.
"Okay, boss. I won't make you wait long." Cream replied, already squaring herself toward Ember.
Prism, Aloe, and Gold drifted away, leaving the two alone in the open expanse.
"Well?" Cream demanded the moment they were out of easy earshot. "Are you going to call her boss or not?"
"Why boss?" Ember countered. "Why is that name so important to you?"
"As your superior," Cream said, voice flat and uncompromising, "I decide what to tell you and when. Now answer the question, or get left behind."
Ember's amber glow dimmed briefly in frustration, then steadied.
"Fine. I'll do it."
"Do what?"
Cream was being petty now, and she knew it. She just simply didn't care.
"I'll call her boss, alright? Are you happy?"
With no other path left open, Ember surrendered. In a single conversation she had swallowed pride twice–first when she followed them here against her better judgment, and now again under Cream's unyielding pressure. The sting of consecutive defeats burned deeper than she wanted to admit.
"Good. Then let's go." Cream said briskly.
Beneath her bravado, Cream felt a quiet triumph. Being humiliated in front of Prism–not once, but twice, had left a bruise on her pride. Forcing Ember to bend felt like balance restored. If she could make someone else taste the same defeat, perhaps the ache would lessen.
I can't believe I had to face humiliation twice, Ember thought, fury simmering beneath the surface. And the worst part is that it came from someone so far beneath me. Aloud she said only, "I'll be sure to remember this."
"Make sure you do." Cream replied, amusement flickering in her light. That should knock her down a peg or two.
They rejoined the others at the [Hover]. Cream had orchestrated this confrontation deliberately. Ember's confident presence had unsettled her from the start–too bright, too self-assured. Cream needed to assert her place as Prism's first and most trusted subordinate.
The "boss" dispute was merely a convenient pretext for a one-on-one she had wanted since Ember first appeared.
In truth, the word itself held no deep significance. Cream simply loved that she had been the one to invent it. The idea that others now used a phrase born from her own mind filled her with secret satisfaction.
She had never admitted the real reason to anyone, not even Prism. Whenever her boss asked, Cream offered excuses–each flimsier than the last, and each left her feeling a pang of guilt for concealing anything from the one entity she most wanted to be honest with.
"Well, how did it go?" Aloe asked gently as they approached.
"Better than I thought." Cream answered, voice laced with smug satisfaction.
"Glad to hear it."
Ember entered the hover without a word, her amber light muted, refusing even a glance toward Aloe or Gold.
"Looks like someone's a bit grumpy," Gold observed.
"Don't worry about her." Cream said dismissively.
"You sure?" Gold pressed.
"Yep. From now on, we're all going to get along nicely." Cream directed the last word toward Prism, a silent plea for approval.
"Sounds like good news." Prism replied evenly.
"It sure is."
[Congratulations. You did good.]
[Thanks, boss. I appreciate it.]
Prism offered the praise because she sensed Cream waiting for it, needing it, even. A small affirmation after a tense victory. Cream's light brightened noticeably.
Make that three methods. Prism thought, glancing across the group.
Cream was so buoyed by her triumph over Ember that, for the moment, she completely forgot to pick a fight with Gold.
Aloe noticed the unusual quiet and reflected wryly. Not that I want them to argue in the first place, but this situation feels a bit, uncharacteristic for the two of them.
Inside the [Hover], the five companions settled once more. The vessel sealed with a soft chime and began to glide forward, trailing its signature ribbon of refracted rainbow light. Behind them stretched the endless luminous void, ahead lay the next destination, the next potential recruit.
Ember remained silent, nursing wounded pride. Cream basked in quiet victory. Gold, unusually subdued, simply drifted. Aloe observed it all with patient calm.
And Prism, ever watchful, steered them onward, cataloguing every shift of light, every unspoken tension, every fragile new alliance.
Having subordinates was never simple. But moments like this, when small victories and small defeats balanced one another, reminded her that harmony could still emerge–even if it sometimes sounded suspiciously like bickering.