Karaoke is a charming old Earth pastime in which music which normally has lyrics is played without them and supplying vocals is left as an exercise to the participant. Ivan was coaxed into going by a local handing out drink vouchers for the bar which offers the activity, and there he got slightly tipsy, sang the only three Barrayaran songs in the entire catalogue, made out with a somewhat drunker girl, got her number, and stumbled home while some Earthling was stumbling through interminable verses of some song. It has not been a bad evening.
"Well, and neither've you have ever met Miles in person. I s'pose you must've had some vid but like most people he is seldom being recorded."
"Yeah, that's why my Miles imitation is so bad. Well, comparatively. Mark, though, he says it's like he has an internal copy of Miles's soul that he can run at will."
"I'd say 'intensive study and copious torture', but that didn't give me one, so who knows."
"True. Still, there's no call for me to make you think about it. You clearly don't think it's funny. Maybe I should be joking with your Captain Galeni instead. He had to live through Ser Galen's idea of actual parenting, God help him. What must that have been like?"
"Oh, it's Junior. Hi, Junior," Aaron says sunnily. "Your old man was a vicious fucker and I'm glad I shot him. How're you doing?"
"Recently orphaned," snaps Galeni, "which I thought I'd already gotten over with."
Ivan winces and pushes his soup out of the way.
"Anybody ever tell you you sound just like your dad?" asks Aaron. His voice is steady but his hands are shaking.
Ivan hops up to his feet.
Aaron is theoretically a trained assassin but at the moment he is acting more like an enraged small animal, complete with biting.
"Ow - fuck - Aaron, calm down!" says Ivan, wrestling him into a more secure and less biting-friendly hold.