Meanwhile...

Who: Dr Cerebrum and a mysterious, psychtoic hologram. No, the second
one is not also Dr. Cerebrum
Where: A couple of chips somewhere
When: Over a period of nine or ten milliseconds. Hey, computer time is
fast.
Cerebrum had taken some memory, and created a virtual psychiatric office
within the computer banks of the Blue Dwarf. He appeared seated on a
chair in a replica of his office, while the other hologram appeared on
the couch, forced to stay their by Cerebrum's illegal and government
issue computer control programs.
"Let's see here," Cerebrum said, flipping through a file. "According to
this, you weren't an original member of the crew, but rather, died in a
freak accident involving a false alarm and some live wires. You were
then reanimated as a hologram. So tell me, why do you hold this grudge
against the living? I mean, I'm dead, and I don't hold a grudge against
the living. I torment members of the crew ruthlessly, of course, but
that's my job, and I did that when I was alive too."
The hologram was in her base form at the moment, no modifications. She
had long, dark hair; green eyes, a well proportioned face and body, a
scowl and an overwhelming bloodlust and desire for revenge.
She tried to leave, and found she couldn't leave the room. She sank back
down on the couch, her arms crossed, sulking. "Why?" she snapped back.
"Because first they kill me on this idiotic vessel, and condemn me to
spend the rest of my existence on it, but then they refuse to let me
have the power I need to live the way I want to. And then, the bastard
security head smegged up my code with an electromagnet."
"Really?" Cerebrum inquired, making a note. "I can see why you have
these homicidal tendencies. But not all of these livies are responsible,
surely?"
"So? They're living, I'm dead, and they're affiliated with the ones who
tried to delete me. Why not make their lives miserable and short? They
have it coming."
"An admirable goal," stated Cerebrum. "But you're going about it the
wrong way. Might I suggest some reading material that might help explain
my point of view?" he reached into his pocket.
"If this is another copy of 'Your death and how to deal with it,' the
hologram warned. "I am going to delete your files even if it kills me."
Cerebrum paused. "You read that? I had a hand in writing that pamphlet,
you know."
"I should've guessed," she replied. "It was one page and all it said
was: 'You're dead. Deal with it.'"
"Some of my finest work," Cerebrum intoned, proudly. He pulled out a
small book and handed it over. "But that's not what I want you to read."
"Psychiatry," the hologram read aloud from the cover. "Or how to make
money off of the mentally unstable and torment hapless civilians. What's
this for?"
"I could use a larger staff," replied Cerebrum. "And I think that you've
got what it takes to be a member of the psychiatric department here on
the Blue Dwarf. You're mentally unbalanced, self-centered and greedy.
Just like me. All you have to do is swear to follow the four laws of
psychiatry."
"Which are?"
"The first law of psychiatry: Make money. The second law: Torment Jay
Chrysler, except where this would violate the first law. The third law:
Torment Doctor Keto, except where this would violate the first or second
laws. The four law: Torment everybody else who isn't a psychiatrist,
except where this would violate the first, second or third laws."
She scanned through the book a bit, then closed it. "You're right, this
will be better to get my revenge on those pathetic livies than just
killing them. This is going to be fun! And profitable!"
"Welcome aboard, Faith Garrison," Cerebrum said, shaking her hand. "Let
me show you to our offices." He concentrated. "Er, my light bee appears
to have gone missing. You go on ahead without me, I'll sort this out and
catch up."