The sun was beginning to set and the world was turning to twilight as Rika and Demi came back to the Ashley house with brown paper grocery bags as their evening prize. They had bought a little more than they probably should have but that was the problem with the marketplace; there were just so much interesting items there that you always brought home things you hadn't quite needed or had even known existed. Chaz had left the door unlocked for the girls so Rika didn't have to use her key. Little Demi was dwarfed further by the big bags she was carrying in her arms.

They went inside and dumped all the groceries on the bench in the kitchen, then started to unpack. Rika thought it was useful to have a little helper around to make things easier for her and they had both enjoyed the shopping together, but she wondered why Demi was clinging to her like a shadow instead of spending time with her master. He had vanished as soon as they had walked into town. Nobody knew where he had gone. Nobody really wanted to find out.

Rika had bought all the fixings for ollaka rolls so she hoped nobody had an aversion to that particular kind of meat. It had been so long that she couldn't quite remember, but she knew that it was one of Chaz's favorite meals. He'd been hurt badly on Zelan so she wanted to make him feel better in any way that she could. Dinner for five people instead of just two, she hoped she had gotten the ingredient ratios right. "Hey Demi, would you like to help me cook?" She asked her friend.

"Of course." The girl said distantly, but she smiled anyway. Together they cut up the vegetables and prepared the meat, spicing it slightly for a little extra flavor. Demi was quite good at cutting up the vegetables but Rika cooked the meat herself, browning it through in the skillet. After a while a delicious aroma started to emerge from the kitchen. When the boys came back to the house they'd have a little something to settle their stomachs after all that drinking in the bar.

"Are you okay, Demi?" Rika asked, listening to the chirps of the cicadas wafting in from the bushes outside. A gentle dusk wind breezed through the open window and brought with it the scent of eucalyptus. Demi looked at her from the stool she was kneeling on so she could reach the bench. She wasn't very good at hiding her emotions away from other people, her face was like an open book and the illustration was bleak. It looked like she needed a hug most of all.

She finished slicing the lettuce and put the big knife down on the cutting block. Ever since the worldship had come back into Algo everything had gone wrong. Her master had crept into a grumpier and grumpier mood and she could not help him. That crazy Siren had attacked them all and she had not been able to stop it. They had lost Zelan and it was all her fault. She should have been able to do something, her inadequacy was her weakness. "…I feel like I've failed in some dire way. It's my fault we lost Zelan."

Didn't they already go over this back on the Landale? Maybe Demi still needed more convincing. "If it weren't for you we wouldn't have survived the night. Don't judge yourself so harshly, you can't do everything at once and hope to be perfect at it all." Rika cleaned some of the utensils under the faucet in the sink as she talked. "Tomorrow, when we fly back to Zelan you'll see that no harm has been done. It's not the end of the world."

"But Master Wren has blocked me on his wireless communications network. He won't let me contact him. He must be very angry with me." The android girl continued sadly, taking up the knife again and slicing some carrots now. So much had happened that she couldn't fix and now here she was cutting up root vegetables. It was absurd. Wren had never blocked her from contacting him before, never once in her life. It was very hurtful, she wanted to go and find him so she could apologize right away. Maybe then he'd let her talk to him once again.

Rika finished what she was doing, dried her hands with a dishcloth and put her arms around her little friend, giving Demi a squeezing hug. It wasn't like hugging a living person, that was true, but hopefully it would mean something to the girl. "Now listen, you can't beat yourself up over something you can't control. Wren might be your master but he's not a perfect person either. Losing Zelan must have really shocked him, kicked him in a place where he didn't expect to feel pain. You just have to give men space when their pride has been hurt, there's nothing else for it. They need time to lick their wounds."

Demi remembered how she had felt when Zio had walked onto the scene and had stolen Nurvus away from her. Bound in chains made of living flesh she had watched and was made aware of the destruction the dark esper had caused to Motavia. There had been nothing she could do and for many days she just hung there in shock and denial. It just hurt her so much to know that her master was experiencing a similar injustice and there was nothing to be done about it. She was glad Rika was hugging her now, it really seemed to help.

The only thing she could be glad of was that at least nobody had been captured, nobody had been imprisoned like she once had. Siren didn't seem like the kind of android who would take prisoners, but still the concept of her master as prisoner to that twisted version of himself streamed through her mind. Siren did not like to capture, but he did seem like he'd enjoy torture. Demi closed her eyes and mimicked a sigh. "Rika? If anything happened to my master I wouldn't know what to do."

"We all feel that way about our partners. I'd feel the same way if anything happened to Chaz. With his wound I'd almost ask him to stay here at home and wait for me to come back safely, but Chaz has the freedom to do whatever he wants. We're not married just yet. He would come with us just to make sure I'd stay safe." Rika broke the hug with Demi and straightened up again. She smiled. "He's very stubborn like that."

Demi's pale green eyes widened in surprise, unsure if the numan girl was serious or not, then she started to laugh. It was light, childish laughter, cute and sweet, making her seem like an eight year old girl rather than the three and a quarter centuries she had under her belt. Suddenly her sadness was gone. "Partner?" She giggled. "Partner? Master Wren is not my partner. Heavens no, the idea is ridiculous!"

"Oh, I just assumed because you serve him and all…" Rika explained, mentally scrambling to find out what was so funny.

She ceased the giggling and smiled in the bright, vivacious manner that seemed more typical of her. "Partner implies mutual contribution to a goal and shared respect. I serve Master Wren because he created me. The balance is meant to be uneven so I can repay him for the life that he put into my body. I am bound to that until he deems my service sufficient and releases me, then I will finally become an independent construct free to do whatever I wish. In short, he is my father."

Rika just stared. Everybody needed a parent figure with which to orient themselves on if they wanted to be a properly functioning member of society, but she hadn't thought that rule applied to androids as well. After the destruction of Mother Brain they probably would have had to reorganize creation for themselves, on a much smaller scale. Still, Rika couldn't imagine Wren being a parent to anybody, though he had been an exceptionally fine teacher to her. "He did a good job because you are a wonderful person, Demi." She reassured her.

The little girl's smile faded and she went back to the task at hand, namely, preparing the salad for the ollaka wraps. Not wanting to look at Rika as she said this Demi muttered; "That may be so, but I only wish I could have been half as good a parent as Wren was to me. I educated Mieus in the same manner in which he educated me… but there is no possible way we could be more different from one another. I have never been able to understand what went wrong."

When it came to raising another living being nobody could be faultless. Rika was quite sure that even her own creator Seed had made only a few base guidelines for her design and the specifics had been up to chance and genes. You can manipulate gene coding, DNA and stuff like that, but a creator could never build a soul. That was determined by a much higher power. For the ten seconds of which she had seen Mieus awake it hadn't seemed like she had much of a sense of self at all.

"You said she killed a whole lot of people once. How did that happen?" Rika pried, trying not to stick her nose too deeply into other people's business but also trying to understand Demi's feelings toward her savage daughter. Daughter. Wow, Rika never would have thought she'd ever use that word in conjunction with her little mechanical friend.

"I'm still not entirely clear of what happened that day myself." Demi confessed with a small halfhearted shrug. "I was concerned with a system check of Nurvus' communication pathways and Mieus must have gotten bored of the facility and wandered away. She walked into a small village that would have been part of eastern Kadary were it around today and later that night she slaughtered all the people within. Not a single villager was spared, she killed them all."

She continued, trying to keep herself separate from the horrible events she was describing. "On estimation it must have been about seventy to a hundred people murdered that day. As a mieu-type Mieus had a highly developed martial combat program, it was very easy for her to rip out throats and hearts and other vital palman organs. I never went to see the village for myself so I did not witness her handiwork, Master Wren went to check it out for himself. He never quite told me everything that he saw, but when he returned he was covered in dried blood and gore and immediately put Mieus to sleep. I don't know why she killed those people, all that mattered was that she had."

"Demi…" Rika said, helplessly.

She smiled. "It's okay. It was well over twenty years ago and I'm not the kind of android who becomes depressed beyond recognition because of the past. Mieus was a good girl but she never really understood the consequences of her actions or the difference between right and wrong. I wish I had created her in a less dangerous shell. It might have made all the difference."

"I never quite thought of you as the sort of person with a dysfunctional daughter, or with a daughter at all. Why did you make her?" Rika questioned as she turned back to the bench and rolled up the ollaka meat and salad in very thin bread. Demi had wanted to avoid the subject last night on Zelan, while her master was around, but now that he had blocked her out of his world things were different. She was more inclined to speak about personal things when it was only Rika and herself, cooking in the early evening.

It was quite a good question, actually. "I don't really know. I thought that if Master Wren could build an android from nothing I should be able to do the same. Wren is a nice companion but he lacks much of the personality that he gave up in the past. Perhaps I was getting lonely and I wanted to laugh with somebody again. Selfish, I suppose."

Demi looked to her pink-haired friend. Since she had come home she'd changed her ripped dress to pants and a blouse. She was wearing a little apron over those clothes. "Do you think you will ever have children, Rika?"

"Chaz and I haven't really discussed it. Possibly, but not any time soon. There's far too much stuff to be done. Do you think we'd make good parents?" They were far too young anyway. Chaz was still just a teenager and Rika was just over four years old. If the neighbors knew her real age she could only imagine what the gossip would be like. To her new friends and the people of Aiedo she was eighteen, no ifs or buts about it.

"I'm not the best judge of character in that regard." Demi giggled and climbed off her stool. One thing that she had always wanted to ask Wren but never have the courage to was about her height. Why did he make her so small? It seemed rather unnecessary. "But you are both young and adequately matched. I will hope to hear the news in the years ahead."

"You won't have to wait very long for Hahn and Saya. I met Saya in Krup last month. She seemed very excited about it." The numan girl added, the conversation very quickly turning into eager gossip. Hahn and his family were really the only protectors she and Chaz could keep close contact with. Technically Gryz's village of Molcum was closer, but motavians were a skittish people who didn't trust strangers. Sending messages there was difficult.

They finished preparing the food and set the dinner away for later, a meal for five. Rika covered it with a long piece of cheesecloth to keep anything undesirable off it and beamed at Demi. "Hey, let's go hang up that other thing we got at the market. Let's see if anybody notices it when they come in for their meal."

Oh yes, the thing. Rika had spotted it between a spice rack and an oil lamp in a travelling peddler's stall, she and Demi had spent a good fifteen minutes trying to figure out what it was. It was a painting, that was certain, but the picture it was portraying was largely a mystery. The two girls had decided that the only way to solve the mystery was to buy the painting, hang it up somewhere and unlock the mystery at their own leisure. Demi thought that it was abstract art symbolizing some deep intrinsic emotion, possibly anger, while Rika thought that it was a painting of a sunset, albeit by somebody who preferred to paint with their feet.

Well, at least the frame looked nice. Chaz would probably roll his eyes at the purchase but he'd be one to talk, after spending all that money on those souvenirs from Termi. They hung the painting right across from the doorway, so it would be the very first thing that their guests would get to see when they came inside. Demi conceived an idea. "Does the picture have a signature? I hear that many artists sign their work to assure their authenticity."

"Hold on, let me check." Rika said and inspected the painting carefully, looking for a name. There was nothing pencilled or penned on the back of the canvas and looking for writing on the picture itself was like searching for a white flag in a sandstorm. Luckily Rika had good eyesight and after a minute she caught it on the top right hand corner of the canvas, upside-down, painted in bright yellow on a slightly darker yellow surface. She cocked her head to the side to read it properly. "…Dorin. Somebody named Dorin. Also, we've hung it upside down."

Demi blinked. "How could we have known? It is a picture of chaos." The android reached up and stood on her tiptoes, taking the painting off the peg and turning it right way up. She paused, looking at it as it was meant to be, then wrinkled her nose cutely and flipped it around again. "It appears nicer when it's upside down." She commented and stuck it back on the wall. Demi was no art critic but on this she was correct.

Both girls laughed, and time went on.

†††

When the company of protectors had walked from Nalya into Aiedo one of them had broken away from the group and had crept off on their own. Wren hadn't wanted to spend time with the others, receive their pity or anything else that they would choose to shower upon him. He didn't need it. No, all he needed was for time to pass so they could get back onto the Landale and retake Zelan from Siren. Anything which did not relate to that goal was pointless. Still, when the sun set he'd go into town and find the others, or else they might come out and start looking for him instead.

Wren had gone for a walk into the forested foothills north of the town, where farther up a passageway through the mountains would guide a team of travelers all the way into Kadary. He had taken a seat on a rock somewhere and waited and watched for the stars to come out. It was very quiet and peaceful up there, he, the only piece of the civilized world in the midst of raw, unprocessed nature. Not even biomonsters lived in the foothills anymore. Not enough large, sizable food.

He didn't see any animate signs of life for a very long time, which was eventually broken by a small grey squirrel who watched him with squirrely interest for about ten minutes before getting bored and scampering away. Not that he was looking for anybody to talk to, he was just carefully observing his surroundings should he be attacked by a group of enemies.

So, Zelan had been taken over. It was not like the last time control had been usurped from his hands, remotely from Kuran. Wren had never actually been physically kicked out of his home. He was not used to such a lack of control. When Kuran had overpowered Zelan there had been nothing he could do about it on his own, it had been out of his power and therefore out of his ability to feel guilty over it. It hadn't been his fault. This time, after all that had transpired, the fault was solely his.

It had been his own fault for awakening Siren and then greatly underestimating his powers. He should have paid closer attention to Rune's agitation. Moreover, Wren had had the chance to stay on Zelan and deal with Siren without the hindrance of his friends nearby, but he had foolishly declined. In saving Demi he had willingly signed his space station over to the enemy. Why in Algo had he done that? Demi was only one person and Zelan held the key to the survival of hundreds and thousands of people. He had not had the chance to think, he merely acted.

Perhaps, deep down, he really was a fool. If he could go back in time and replay the moment correctly, or if he had been given one extra second to think about it, he would not be in this sorry mess. Demi would have died but that was not important; she was replaceable. Zelan was not. All he would have needed to do was take a fresh dubbing from the mind of her donor. It was simple. She was indeed a good servant, sometimes he thought that maybe he did not let her know it enough. Perhaps later, after Siren was destroyed he would tell her what he thought.

Demi was a curious little chimera of an android. Wren wondered that if he were to tell her the honest truth of her composition she might hate him for it. Surely she would at least be horrified. The difference between Demi of the second generation and Mieus of the third generation had been tiny but fundamental. It explained why she had been a success in terms of sanity and behavior while Mieus had been a resounding failure. In this new millennium only one or two people might know the truth, the reason why android had souls.

It was a bloody and terrifying truth indeed. Many centuries ago, when Wren still had his personality and emotions he'd shudder to think of it.

Mieus did not have a soul. She only acted with convincing feeling and emotion because that was what her programming told her to do. Wren had even doubted her sentience sometimes. It had not made him sorry to see her go to sleep, there was no need for a failure among his company. The only thing he regretted was that it had hurt Demi. He knew, he could detect the sadness in her face.

Feelings and emotion, personality, they were all superfluous. He had enjoyed them when he was young, it had been rewarding to be happy, or sad, or angry, but over the years the negative emotions began to outweigh the positive ones. Algo was dying. Through the stupid gung-ho actions of his friend it had been his duty to watch it fade. Wren had to get rid of that part of himself or risk going insane from caring too much. Things had become easier when his figurative heart went cold. It was the only way to remain the system control for a dying star.

He had crippled his own soul, but it was a soul nevertheless. The things he experienced now in reaction to life were just faint, shadowy guidelines from that earlier time. Without it he would be less of an android and more of a robot. Despite what he lacked Chaz and the others still called him a friend. It meant something to him, though he was no longer enough of a person to appreciate it properly.

The sky was beginning to tint orange, the first few stars emerging in the waning light. He could see the faint outline of the Gladiator, in another hour or two the rest of the heavenly constellation would be visible to the people of Aiedo. If Wren left now he calculated he'd be back in town by nightfall, provided he kept a steady pace and was not hindered. Demi would worry if he stayed out here much longer.

Wren left. From the surface of Motavia a new star hung in the night sky, yet this one did not twinkle with its own generated light, it merely bounced back a pale reflection of Algo's own shine.

The Alisa Three, huge and lost, an ill omen to all.

†††

"I feel like a beggar trying on other people's old clothes. Gosh, this is shameful." Warren muttered as he tried to make sense of all the many parts left in his holding cell.

So many of his internal parts were missing and none of the parts dumped on the ground were originally his. When the government had arrested him they had removed all the parts relegated to combat, but even some parts he knew he had had when he walked out in front of the firing squad were now missing. Somebody had salvaged bits and pieces of his body after he had been executed, but while he was still alive.

"They don't manufacture parts for androids anymore, everything has to be installed second hand. A lot has changed since your time." Mieus answered from the entranceway of the cell, watching her new partner try to piece himself back together out of parts that didn't quite fit. He did not yet know that even his mind had already been profoundly altered by an operating system which didn't belong to him. Mieus herself did not have anything pressing to do. She was intact and she was perfect, just as she should be.

It felt like he had been violated in some deep way, like a part of him had been cut out and stolen without his consent. As if the thousand year imprisonment wasn't punishment enough, he had been brought back into a body and mind that was not all there. Most of the parts he guessed he didn't miss, they were not important, but his medical power unit was also gone. Even during the days of Mother Brain it had been rare and hard to replace. His very first master had spent a large amount of money on it, on him, so he felt rather bad for losing it. It had been part of him, after all.

Warren sighed. If he had given up his emotions he wouldn't have cared, but the point was they were still there. Giving up and falling back onto cold, emotionless logic would mean giving up the very thing which made him an exceptional doctor and officer; the ability to care. To care about his comrades, and to care about his patients. The day that he stopped giving a damn was the day that he needed to hang up his rifle and scalpel for good.

He would never be the same Warren that he had been a thousand years ago; he had to accept that. All he needed to do now in the present was be a good servant, a good partner, and try to do the very best he could with the resources available to him. That should be enough. "The parts here will be satisfactory in bringing me back to optimal condition. Recovery unit, flare unit, barrier unit, spark defibrillator unit, these are all fine. After installation all I'll need to become combat ready is a gun."

"Would you like me to go get you one while you install those parts?" Mieus asked Warren sweetly, trying to be helpful. She knew of an armory room in block B where some guns were stored. Her grandfather had kept them in perfect working order should anyone ever need to use them. Now was a good time for some weaponry, though probably not for the purpose her grandfather had intended.

The major glanced up toward Mieus. He hadn't forgotten that she was there, but he had been slipping back into his own private world again. She looked exceptionally lovely standing there in the dim lights of the holding cell, turning her flame-red hair to a deep bronze. He rose from where he had been kneeling on the floor, several spare parts in his arms. These were the ones deemed most compatible with his system. "If it's not too much trouble I'd like that very much, Mieus." He told her with a smile.

"Sure, sweetie. I'll be quick." The girl promised and left the cell for block B, stepping so lightly down the corridor that her knee-high boots barely caused her footsteps to echo. She could feel sort of a warm feeling in her neural matrix, it made her want to smile and be happy and kind. Siren and Warren were giving her tasks to complete, things to do, so she finally had a purpose in this world. Warren was like her grandfather, a military android, but he was nice and pleasant while her grandfather had been cold and distant. She had liked him her entire life, and now he was finally able to like her back.

Now that the awareness was mutual, now that together they both served the same master, where should they go from there? Obviously, much of it was all up to Siren but she and Warren were partners now. That meant something, didn't it? She wanted to hear tales about the past, war stories, of blood and death and suffering. From his history surely he had a hundred interesting stories to tell.

She just wanted somebody different, somebody who would not be as cold and as heartless as her grandfather, who would put her to sleep callously without listening to her reason why.

Somebody who would never tell her that she didn't have a soul.

Mieus made her way into the armory and inspected the rack of various rifles, vulcans, and large heavy assault cannons. Zelan never had any reason to stock arms in the past, being a pacifist research satellite, but as more and more recycled military androids were staffed there the weapons just tended to pile up. She was also a little suspicious that either her mother or her grandfather liked to collect them as well. What kind of firearm did Warren say he was proficient with again? Mieus took a good-looking rifle off the rack and weighed it in her hands. A little too heavy for her, probably just right for a wren-type, she estimated.

When she got back to the holding cell with the rifle in her arms Warren was sitting back on the table, just as she and Siren had found him not that long ago. It appeared that he had installed the spare parts successfully, for the pieces were gone, but he now had a small metal box lying in his lap. It was no larger than a shoebox and Warren was looking into it listlessly. As Mieus stepped into the room the major looked up at her, raising a hand which contained a sterling silver chain. "Look at this," he said in a strange, slightly weak voice, "my dog tags are still here."

He had the dazed, knowing expression of somebody who was aware they had been shot but whose body had failed to register it just yet. Were he a palman his complexion would have gone a gaunt white. Those tags were to identify a soldier if they were killed in battle. Warren had never needed it; his own government had seen fit to slay him instead. The poor android had only just been brought back to life, he didn't need to be reminded so quickly of death. He smiled wanly. "My medals are here too, but one is missing. That's fine, I don't mind it…"

"You alright?" Mieus asked gently as she walked over to her partner, putting the rifle down on the table beside him. He had been so close to being back to normal again, but the very moment she had left him on his own he had slipped. The poor dear. The android girl reached up and pressed her hand against his cheek, then ran her fingers through his short brown hair. He leaned into the touch, and while he was distracted she deftly stole the dog tags away from him.

'Property of Motavian military, branch three. If lost please return to Oputa Surgical Hospital. Theft or vandalism of government property is a federal offense. Violators will be court-martialled. Wren-type six hundred and eighty three.' His number only came after the initial disclaimer and warning. To the felled government he had only been just another piece of equipment.

"I know what you're thinking, but the palman soldiers had it no better." Warren said, as if he could read the processes of her mind. "They merely had their addresses and next of kin stamped upon their tags. I'm okay now Mieus, I just felt a little off-kilter for a moment. I found those tags and my medal and suddenly I was right there on the front lines again." He paused. "Not literally, of course."

If Mieus wanted to figure out where she stood in servitude to her master with her partner by her side she had best sort it out now. If she didn't do anything then she'd never quite know. "We're not palmans, we're androids. Why were we made to care about things? Why is it that only some of us care and some of us don't? What kind of benefit can there be to make us so close to palmans but just not there? So that we care, but we feel guilty when we do, like it's wrong or something."

"Maybe that's why we're meant to be extinct." Warren guessed quietly, then flinched as Mieus flung her arms around his shoulders and held onto him tightly. Because he was a little taller than her even when sitting on a table Mieus was lifted off her feet. Warren hugged her back, half reflexively, half because he really needed a hug. "Hey… it's okay. It's not wrong to feel things just because of what you are. It's never wrong. If anything it just makes you a better person, one that I'd be happy to call my partner."

"I brought you a gun."

"Thank you, Mieus."

She looked up at him, and when he smiled encouragingly at her she kissed him again. Warren had not expected this. When he realised what was going on he let go of her and pushed the girl away. Mieus wasn't bothered by this, it was the opening she needed to start that conversation. Warren didn't seem that bothered either, only he thought it right to push her away because he didn't know what she was getting at. Nobody had ever kissed him like that before. "So what do you mean when you call me your partner?" Mieus asked him with reined curiosity.

He thought about it in rather an innocent way, standing up from his seat on the table and placing the metal box down beside the rifle. Warren was a battle android and though he had lost his war innocence long ago to blood, mortar and the screams of the dying, there were still multiple kinds of innocence. She had what he lacked, and he had what she lacked. "I don't know. Somebody to talk to and somebody to serve Master Siren with. Somebody nice to spend time with. You really don't have to kiss me if you don't want to."

"Why do you think I wouldn't want to? I like you, honey. I've always liked you, that's why I asked Master Siren to bring you back to life. You're interesting, you've seen war and the worst, bleakest part of this star system's history. Why shouldn't I be allowed to kiss you? You just said it was okay to feel things despite being an android. Were you lying just now?" Mieus reasoned, wagging a finger at him as she spoke. It wasn't enough just to have a friend as a fellow servant, she wanted a real partner. It was, if anything, a way to feel alive again.

"There's nothing to be proud about living in that kind of chaos." Warren tried to explain to her, but Mieus just couldn't understand. Only somebody who had lived through it could understand. If Siren's plans on destroying the layan race came to fruition perhaps then she would see what he meant and would not take war as lightly as she did. He was a little flattered that she liked him so much, though for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. He took her by the hand and gave in. "…Alright. I take it this partnership won't be strictly work-based, then. I'm fine with that. I do like you too."

She smirked and pulled him down to her height, kissing him again. It just felt right. This time Warren didn't try to push her away, he let her do whatever she wanted with him. Mieus was a slightly spoiled girl, it was just better if she got her way. Once she pulled away from him, let go of his hand and the side of his neck she took a few steps back and began to giggle softly. Those soft giggles evolved into slightly louder laughter. "I have been wanting to do that for a long time." She admitted happily. "What do you think?"

"I think it's strange but I could get used to it." Warren answered her with a chuckle. He had spent his first few years of life as a civilian servant living with a civilian family, in that time he had observed many palman customs. Every morning before work or school the wife of his first master would kiss her husband, her first son and her granddaughter on the cheek before they left the house. After only three months of serving that family she had begun to kiss Warren goodbye as well. It was just that kind of warm, friendly family atmosphere could which did it.

Of course, those kind of kisses had been very different. Mieus' kisses were far, far better.

"You'll get used to it soon enough. Okay, back to business now. Try this out." The android girl picked the rifle up from off the table and held it butt-first out to Warren. There was no danger that the gun would suddenly go off in her hands, without a connection to a user it was completely out of power, utterly harmless. It ran on electricity instead of bullets, as soon as bullets were outlawed in society gun-related injuries went down by half. It just went to show how stupid some palmans could be.

"Thanks… darling." Warren said as he took the weapon from her waiting hands. It felt strange to call somebody that. Strange, but good all the same. He connected the gun to the ports in his arm, which contained a direct link to his internal power source. The gun felt heavy and familiar in his hand. There had once been a time when a gun like this one might as well have been an extension of his body; he had used it that much. He just needed to load the diagnostic program now, assure that the gun was compatible with his system and all his new parts.

For about a minute Warren just stood there, sorting out the programs within. Although it was just sixty seconds it was still far too long just to synch up a gun. The major's brow furrowed a little. "Um." He said after a time, summing up the knowledge that something was wrong. He persevered, though after another half-minute he said "Um…" again and opened his eyes.

"What's wrong? Did I grab the wrong kind of weapon?" Mieus asked him, worried by the 'um's. She wasn't a gun nut, she could barely tell the things apart.

"No, I don't think it's an error on behalf of the weapon. I think the error might be with me. I can't seem to find the firearm proficiency files. All searches of the system are turning up blanks. The files must be either corrupted or missing." Warren seemed apologetic, bashfully shrugging away his faults. After so much reconstruction from a broken and ravaged shell he had been expecting some problems. The work that Siren had performed on him was perfect, the flaw was in the core, the software.

"File not found?" Guessed Mieus. That was a bother. Without an easily accessible external weapon his combat prowess would be compromised. She watched the wren-type check the sealed energy chamber, then the catalyst bolt. He seemed to know what each of the parts were, but he was moving with a hesitation that an infantryman simply should not have. Realization came to her. "You do know how to use a gun, don't you? You haven't forgotten."

"I should know how. I remember using one of these all the time in the war. Heck, I could disassemble and reassemble a standard plasma rifle in fifty two seconds in the dark! Why can't I remember how it works anymore? I don't understand! This doesn't make sense!" Warren shouted, becoming agitated. Losing physical parts was one thing, losing parts of his memory and his mind was something else entirely. He didn't want to lose his mind, he was terrified of slipping one last time and winding up a mental patient again.

Mieus came to his rescue and disconnected the rifle cables from the ports in his arm. The girl gently pried the weapon from his grip and laid it to the side. "It's okay, Warren. You're very old now, practically ancient, it's not surprising some of your files may have vanished or become corrupted. You can always recreate the files later. Don't worry about the gun for now. Calm down."

"Yeah. Yes, you're right. Sorry about that. I still have my basic combat protocol. That is enough." Warren sighed, trying to take Mieus' advice. He couldn't panic, it wouldn't accomplish anything.

"How advanced is it?" There were varying levels of combat proficiency. They ranged from blunt clunky motion to highly-tuned speed. She as a mieu-type fell into that latter category. Speed, flexibility, dangerous strength and precision came naturally to her. She was curious to see how much of Warren's basic combat skills measured up to her. Perhaps he would let her find out. Mieus crossed her hands out in front of her body and allowed the metal claws to slide out of her battle gloves. The silvery shling of the action was musical to her ears.

"Please don't hurt me. I don't like pain." Warren confessed as he backed away from her, but he understood what she was getting at. If he couldn't use a gun then he sure as hell needed to be able to use his hands dexterously, or he was worthless as a soldier. He should at least have confidence in his martial abilities, but after so long were they still there? What if he drew a blank like when he had tried to synch up his gun? Mieus would probably shred half of his face off before she realised he had glitched.

"I won't hurt you. I just want to see if you can hit me, or if you can stop me from hitting you."

"Whoa, wait! Mieus, I can't hit you! You're my partner!"

Too late. Mieus launched herself at Warren with a shouting battle cry, raising her claws up in an attempt to leave deep scratches in his golden armor. Her heart wasn't quite in it as this was only a friendly match, but the major freaked as if it were dangerous and real. A program which had lain dormant for over a thousand years kicked back into life and he calculated her momentum, predicted her assault, and designed a retaliation able to stop her attack and even turn it into a defensive strike. When Mieus attacked with all her body it made her quite vulnerable, that he could see.

He acted. Instead of defending and blocking her attack Warren ducked down a little and grabbed her by the upper arm, whirling around and using Mieus' own momentum to throw her over his shoulder. She went flying, but the cell was small and there was not much space to fly to. Her battle cry became a squeak but she couldn't stop herself, there was not enough time and she was trapped within the throw. Mieus hit her shoulder on the edge of the table and went tumbling to the floor.

It wasn't much different to when Siren had defended himself against the girl. However, this time Mieus didn't get up and attempt a second attack, and Warren didn't stand still to wait for her to move again. He rushed to the table and leant over it, trying to see the damage of what he had done. He seemed worried. "Mieus?" He called. "I'm sorry! I didn't think you'd be so light! Are you alright?"

She was sprawled out on the ground, but instead of looking angry with him she just seemed surprised. That surprise was converted into a grin when she saw Warren's worried face. She was nowhere near as delicate as to break on the first throw. "You know, that isn't something you should say to a woman. It's the very last thing that we like to hear." She teased, pulling herself up to her feet. Once she was standing again she ran her fingers through her hair to straighten out the tangles.

It took Warren a few seconds to get what she meant. "Oh. Sorry."

"But next time it will be you lying there on the floor," she promised, "I won't make it easy, knowing that you seem to have martial moves programmed into you. Where did you get a hold of information like that? Was it part of the info that you stole?"

"No, of course not. I'm just prudent when it comes to fighting. My parts have been successfully installed and I am capable of participating in combat. There won't be any problems when the layans arrive." It was nothing to be proud of, it was just information. His master's first son had been a student learning judo, boxing and karate, and they say that teaching a skill to another is the best way to learn it oneself. Needless to say Warren had picked up a few interesting things while fulfilling his duty as an animate punching-bag. He was secretly pleased to see that the data was still there. He'd hate to lose it.

"Do you really thing Master Siren is telling the truth about the layans being evil and summoning up Dark Force? Are the planets really infested with evil palmans, the ones who locked our people away in the dark?" Mieus asked Warren. She didn't quite know or believe herself. It just seemed a bit too farfetched, but what did she know anyway? She was just a sheltered little girl.

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter what we think. We're not allowed to have opinions anymore. We just have to do what Siren says and believe whatever he wants us to believe. That's what it means to be a good servant." Though for what it was worth Warren wasn't quite certain either. Orakio had been a single person, not an entire race of people. It could be that Siren might have gotten his wires crossed somewhere, at some point in time.

But that would not stop his faithful servants from trusting him, believing in him.

Even killing for him.