*temp i_sex sex 
*image hi1.png
*set battery - 10


*if last_mission = "saturn"
  The Yakovian Expanse, for all its flaws, has one definite advantage over the moons of Saturn; It's quite close to your home station. Over your two weeks days in the gassy layer, [i]Saturn Nine[/i] actually drifted a bit closer, allowing you to return within a day of 
  *if saturn_path = "pirates"
    sorting out all that mess with the pirates, their captives, their ship and the booty. And despite the differences between various members of your group, you are all [i]quite[/i] happy to be done with the logistics of the matter.
  *if saturn_path = "sauce"
    saying your goodbyes to Sauce.
  *if saturn_path = "left"
    saying your goodbyes to Link. Watching his frigate dive back into Saturn, so that it can wait for another vessel to strike at.

  That's not to say the remainder of the voyage is nice—you still have to spend two rotations in full knowledge of how little you've achieved in terms of advancing the quest—but you dock in the floating fortress quickly, safely and with your spirits boosted by the return home. Soon after landing, Rook explains that the group is to remain inside the station for a while, as [i]Gray Queen[/i] will await the shipment of spare parts and fuel. This news made you feel…
*if last_mission = "calypso"
  Leaving Calypso was not a pleasant departure. @{sexed_daxia Partially because you'll miss Pandit Da-Xia and her hospitality, but also|Not because everyone liked the place, necessarily, but rather} because what follows is several days of uncomfortable journeying back home. Whilst this part of the voyage is mercifully quiet, said silence eventually becomes uncomfortable due to its underlying reasons. Everyone is at least somewhat bummed that Crystal managed to evade you, except perhaps @{(LisaRel >= 50) Lisa|Hellhound}… who has other reasons not to be particularly talkative.
  
  Eventually though, you dock in the floating fortress, safely and with your spirits boosted by the return home. Soon after landing, Rook explains that the group is to remain inside the station for a while, as [i]Gray Queen[/i] will await the shipment of spare parts and fuel. This news made you feel…
*if last_mission = "telesto"
  The journey home is one of the hardest you've ever had to undertake.
  
  It doesn't matter that it's barely two days long, or that Crystal doesn't attack again, or that you don't really need to do anything during the voyage. Containing the sound inside takes all your focus, all your energy and all your… something. Light, will, good mood, whatever. It's hardly a new experience for you, but something about having [i]directly spoken with the Dusk itself[/i] makes it impossible to forget the time you first heard its scream almost a thousand years ago.
  
  *if deflect > 0
    Damon tries to comfort you, but he can offer no actual assurance aside from stock phrases about how you're not alone, and the likes of Hadaly and Manfred are hardly better. With 'friends' like these, perhaps you really are alone, and perhaps that's for the best. You never needed help with handling the flashbacks, and you won't ask for any now. You just need to think about…
  *if deflect <= 0
    Manfred and Hadaly make several attempts to cheer you up during the flight, or at least keep you busy talking. Neither of them knows what you've been through, but at least they can offer you some much-appreciated concern and welcome distractions from the dark recesses of your mind.
    
    Damon, Kirill and Olivia… not so much. Facing @{(telesto_path = 3) Crystal itself|dozens of monsters} under the sea only to be completely defeated afterwards is not something any of them has experienced before. You hope they don't end up properly traumatized, but you know that talking about such experiences immediately is rarely healthy. You let them ponder and instead keep thinking about…
    
  *fake_choice
    #...how to get Crystal the next time around.
      *label onet
      A diamond wyvern spreading havoc is one thing, but one collecting Dusk fragments and believing itself a hero in all this… That goes beyond dangerous. Hopefully you'll have some solid plan the next time your team meets the monster, because the task's importance and difficulty just got considerably higher.
    #...the implications of recent revelations.
      *goto onet
    #...all the fun stuff I'll do once I'm home.
      *goto techn
    #...sunshine, kittens, pillows and all nice things.
      *label techn
      It's an old technique that doesn't really help much… but it doesn't hurt either, so you keep at it. Stay positive, and focus on parts of life that don't have anything to do with the darkness of Earth.
  
  You eventually dock in the floating fortress, safely and with your spirits slightly boosted by the return home. Soon after landing, Rook explains that the group is to remain inside the station for a while, as [i]Gray Queen[/i] will await the shipment of spare parts and fuel. Those news made you feel…

*fake_choice
  #...happy. I get to spend more time with my friends on the station.
    *set deflect - 1
    Sadly, you cannot do that right away. You need to recharge first, though luckily you have both the time and the means for that.
  #...relieved. I get to spend more time alone, in the quietude of my chambers.
    And it just so happens you have an excellent reason to seclude yourself; You are running out of batteries, and so some peaceful recharging is in order.
  #...confused. Why would the Federation deliver their supplies here?
    You ask Rook about that, to which he simply shrugs and makes a slightly derogatory remark aimed at Kronian bureaucracy. You don't necessarily suspect him of [i]lying[/i], but you think he may be off the mark. That he may not be aware of what his leadership is up to, precisely.
    
    To Cloud with that, at least for now. You need to recharge, and now you have both the time and the means for that.
  #...annoyed. I want more action, and I'm not getting it here.
    You don't suspect you'll get much thrill during the upcoming break… but then again, you do need to recharge anyway.
    
Soon after landing you head to your room, glad to see it unchanged from when you last saw it.  @{room_look Still mostly empty, and still weirdly comfortable because of that.|Just as clean, orderly, comfortable as always.|All the machines seem untouched, save for a single snack missing from the vending machine.|Everything is in the same, completely random place amidst the whole mess.} The capsule is still there, comfortably cold as you lie down in it and plug your antenna in. At last you are about to recharge, with the added bonus of getting to change your sex once again.

*set health 3
*choice
  *if sex = "man"
    #I'm staying male, because why not?
      *if pronoun = "he"
        You still feel male, and so you'll keep a matching body. 
      *if pronoun != "he"
        Some would say this masculine form doesn't [i]match[/i] your gender identity, but those are all human concepts you are hardly subject to. 
      Besides… you may need that upper-body strength at some point.
      *goto what_the_hell_is_this
  *if sex != "man"
    #I'll turn male. Just inflate some muscles, extend artificial testicles...
      *set sex "man"
      *set daxia_target 80
      *set miguel_target 120
      *set ewald_target 70
      *set sheila_target 50
      The process does disturb your otherwise peaceful sleep, but is by no means painful or difficult. Just routine for @{(pronoun = "he") women|men} like you… holding on to your gender identity is a tad difficult during such transformations.
      *goto what_the_hell_is_this
  *if sex = "woman"
    #I'm staying female, because why not?
      *if pronoun = "she"
        You still feel female, and so you'll keep a matching body. 
      *if pronoun != "she"
        Some would say that this feminine form doesn't [i]match[/i] your gender identity, but those are all human concepts you are hardly subject to. 
      You don't need anything dangling between your legs, another distraction in a world of so many others.
      *goto what_the_hell_is_this
  *if sex != "woman"
    #I'll turn female. Just inflate the chest, drop the unnecessary bits...
      *set sex "woman"
      *set daxia_target 100
      *set ewald_target 60
      *set miguel_target 80
      *set sheila_target 60
      The process does disturb your otherwise peaceful sleep, but is by no means painful or difficult. Just routine for @{(pronoun = "she") men|women} like you…  holding on to your gender identity is a tad difficult during such transformations.
      *goto what_the_hell_is_this
  *if sex = "person"
    #I'm staying androgynous, because why not?
      *if ((pronoun = "they") or (pronoun = "it"))
        You feel rather genderless, and so you'll keep a matching body. 
      *if ((pronoun != "they") and (pronoun != "it"))
        Some would say that this sexless form doesn't [i]match[/i] your gender identity, but those are all human concepts you're hardly subject to. 
      Besides, your current body is more… universal than a gendered form could ever be, if only in small ways.
      *goto what_the_hell_is_this
  *if sex != "person"
    #I'll turn androgynous. Just a few changes here and there.
      *set sex "person"
      *set daxia_target 120
      *set miguel_target 100
      *set ewald_target 60
      *set sheila_target 40
      The process is not only painless but far less complicated than one might expect. You don't have chromosomes that would dictate your development from a cellular level; Your body just has some pseudo-sexual characteristics slapped onto it, and shedding those feels like a burden lifted.
      *goto what_the_hell_is_this

*label what_the_hell_is_this
*set battery 9
*set health 3
*if i_sex = sex
  With no sex change operations to perform, 
*if i_sex != sex
  Once the process of shape-shifting is completed, 
your sleep is pretty peaceful. You lay there with closed eyes until you suddenly drift away, only to awaken after hours that feel like less than a second, with your battery full and…

*comment *save_checkpoint
*comment *if choice_just_restored_checkpoint
*comment You wake up in your room, in your pod, having just finished charging. You've just had the craziest of flashbacks, almost like an actual dream, one that told of things to come rather than memories. But no matter; Now that you're awake and full of energy, you can...

No, that's not right. Your battery isn't even at [i]tenth[/i] of its full capacity. You wonder if you accidentally rose after half an hour instead of the customary eight, but checking your internal clock reveals the truth; It's been four [i]days[/i] since you fell asleep, a result of some catastrophic error you had no way to expect.


"Veteran!" Manfred's voice is coming from behind the door. "I'm glad you're finally awake. Not that there was any danger of you not waking up, of course."

*fake_choice
  #"Manfred... What in the Cloud is happening?"
  #"Good to know my privacy is of no concern to you."
    *set ManfredRel %- 10
    "Keep in mind that I'm not looking inside your room right now. I am speaking from the corridor, having just received a boolean signal that told me you woke up."
    
    You're not sure if that makes you feel better, but you suppose there's no point arguing. Asking for explanations, however… "So can you tell me why I woke up so late? After the charging should have been completed ten times over?"
  #"Are you certain? Because something sure as Cloud went wrong."
  #"Good to know [i]someone[/i] is glad I'm awake."
    "Are you implying that the other denizens of this station don't enjoy your company?" Manfred asks. "Or that you don't enjoy being awake?"
    
    Both. "Nevermind. Can you tell me what's wrong with the pod?"
  #"Shut up. I'm going back to sleep."
    *set ManfredRel %- 10
    "Are you entirely sure? Because my knowledge of the situation could influence your choice."
    
    "If you must explain," you growl. "But make it quick."

"It was a strange series of glitches inside the charging pod," Manfred dutifully explains. "I noticed them when you failed to wake up after a full Saturnian day, but I was wary to start repairing them while you were still asleep. Now I can fix the pod while you're using what little energy you've gained to… socialize with other people on the fortress, perhaps."

"A random series of glitches? With the result of reduced, but not halted power flow? That doesn't sound terribly probable."

"It may not," Manfred concedes. "Are you suggesting something, Veteran?"

*fake_choice
  #"Not really. Just making an observation."
    *set Confid %- 5
    *set ManfredRel %+ 5
    "Well, if you come up with any theories as to what caused the issue, you are invited to tell me. Until then though, I implore you to find some entertainment for yourself." 
  #"I think those humans are sabotaging our systems somehow."
    *set Misan %+ 10
    "An interesting hypothesis," Manfred responds. "I will check for signs of tampering as I fix the issues with your pod. But that's all the more reason for you to entertain yourself with something else as I work."
  #"I'm just saying, I should probably get myself a new pod."
    "Not a bad idea, but it may be a while before we can properly shop," Manfred replies with relief. "I will try to fix the bugs within this one. Please entertain yourself with something else as I work."
  #"Are [i]you[/i] implying something, Manfred?"
    "Only that you should perhaps get out more, so that this poor charging pod sees some rest," Manfred responds. "I will repair it now. Alone."
  *if (Database + ManfredRel) >= 100
    #"Yes. I believe you're testing me."
      *set ManfredRel %+ 10
      "Testing you?" Manfred asks, tellingly not denying the accusation. "And what test do you believe I'm putting you through, Veteran?"
      
      "Something about who I'll choose to approach?" You wager a guess. "As though you're trying to see what my priorities are. I have no clue why you'd want to do that, but that's the only explanation."
      
      "An interesting hypothesis," Manfred responds, his voice amused but also… proud? "You are free to ponder it while I fix your charging pod. Alone."
  *if ManfredRel < 52
    #"Yes. I think you're trying to kill me."
      *set deflect + 1
      "Quite a serious accusation," Manfred says, not sounding at all offended… just maybe a bit concerned. "All the more reason for you to entertain yourself with something else as I work, I suppose."

You catch the hint, if it can even be called that, and leave your room in favor of the fortress' corridors. Traversing those takes energy that you are sadly short on, but you could safely visit and spend some quality time with someone before running out of steam. Perhaps two 
*if (Build + Social) > 100
  or even three 
people, if you don't end up doing anything [i]too[/i] strenuous.

With that in mind… what will it be?

[i](it may be wise to save at this point)[/i]

*temp date ""
*label returna1
*fake_choice
  #I'll see what's up with Rook.
    *set date "rook"
    *gosub rook
  #Let's see what Marshal is doing.
    *set date "marshal"
    *gosub marshal
  #I will visit Hellhound in her room.
    *set date "hellhound"
    *gosub hound
  #I will check on Damon, I guess.
    *set date "damon"
    *if damon_pissed
      You get ready to visit Damon, wherever he may be… but then you remember what you did in $!{last_mission} and decide that perhaps meeting him alone is a bad idea. You can't imagine a punch from him would do wonders for your health. Instead…
      *goto returna1
    *gosub damon
  #Time to see what Hadaly's up to.
    *set date "hadaly"
    *gosub hadaly
  #I will use the holo-disc to contact Admiral West.
    *set date "west"
    *gosub west
  #I haven't seen Sheila in a while. I'll visit her.
    *set date "sheila"
    *gosub sheila
  #I'll hang out with the organics, I think.
    *set date "miguel"
    *gosub miguel
  #I'll just wander around the station. Alone.
    *set deflect + 1
    *goto alone

Soon you find yourself roaming the station's corridors again, as far away from $!{date} as from anyone else. You could change that state of affairs; There is still enough power in your batteries to reach and approach one more person, though you'll likely have to hit the capsule afterwards.

*set battery 5
*if (Build + Social) > 100
  *set battery 7

*temp second_date date

*label returna2
*fake_choice
  *selectable_if (date != "rook") #I'll see what's up with Rook.
    *set second_date "rook"
    *gosub rook
  *selectable_if (date != "marshal") #Let's see what Marshal is doing.
    *set second_date "marshal"
    *gosub marshal
  *selectable_if (date != "hellhound") #I will visit Hellhound in her room.
    *set second_date "hellhound"
    *gosub hound
  *selectable_if (date != "damon") #I will check on Damon, I guess.
    *if damon_pissed
      You get ready to visit Damon, wherever he may be… but then you remember what you did in $!{last_mission} and decide that perhaps meeting him alone is a bad idea. You can't imagine getting shot with an electron rifle would do wonders for your health. Instead…
      *goto returna2
    *gosub damon
  *selectable_if (date != "hadaly") #Time to see what Hadaly's up to.
    *set second_date "hadaly"
    *gosub hadaly
  *selectable_if (date != "west") #I will use our holo-disc to contact Admiral West.
    *set second_date "west"
    *gosub west
  *selectable_if (date != "sheila") #Haven't seen Sheila in a while. I'll visit her.
    *set second_date "sheila"
    *gosub sheila
  *selectable_if (date != "miguel") #I'll hang out with the organics, I think.
    *set second_date "miguel"
    *gosub miguel
  #I'll just wander around the station. Alone.
    *set deflect + 1
    *goto alone

*if (Build + Social) > 100
  *set battery 5
  As you walk the corridor, you notice that your battery is doing surprisingly well, that is to say it's not completely spent. There is time and power for the third, final visit to make… if you still want company, that is.
  
  *goto third_choice

*label having_had

Having had your fun, you hastily return to your room and open the charging pod. It appears to be working alright, both as you turn it on and as you connect your antenna to its digital system. Looks like Manfred really did fix all the bugs he mentioned. Although the capsule wasn't working any worse when you entered it several days ago… but you literally don't have the energy necessary to think about it now.

You use the absolute remainder of your reserves to close your eyes. It's not something you need to do… but it sure as hell feels appropriate at this point.


*set battery 1

*goto second_sleep


*label third_choice

*fake_choice
  *selectable_if ((date != "rook") and (second_date != "rook")) #I'll see what's up with Rook.
    *gosub rook
  *selectable_if ((date != "marshal") and (second_date != "marshal")) #Let's see what Marshal is doing.
    *gosub marshal
  *selectable_if ((date != "hellhound") and (second_date != "hellhound")) #I will visit Hellhound in her room.
    *gosub hound
  *selectable_if ((date != "damon") and (second_date != "damon")) #I will check on Damon, I guess.
    *if damon_pissed
      You get ready to visit Damon, wherever he may be… but then you remember what you did in $!{last_mission} and decide that perhaps meeting him alone is a bad idea. You can't imagine getting shot with an electron rifle would do wonders for your health. Instead…
      *goto third_choice
    *gosub damon
  *selectable_if ((date != "hadaly") and (second_date != "hadaly")) #Time to see what Hadaly's up to.
    *gosub hadaly
  *selectable_if ((date != "west") and (second_date != "west")) #I will use our holo-disc to contact Admiral West.
    *gosub west
  *selectable_if ((date != "sheila") and (second_date != "sheila")) #Haven't seen Sheila in a while. I'll visit her.
    *gosub sheila
  *selectable_if ((date != "miguel") and (second_date != "miguel")) #I'll hang out with the organics, I think.
    *gosub miguel
  #No, it's really time for me to recharge already.

*goto having_had

*label rook
Finding Rook's apartment within the station is not hard; You recall him loudly announcing the location to everyone soon after moving in, as though unconcerned for the possibility of some more… misanthropic members of your group visiting him. Nor is it hard to reach, requiring only a few minutes of leisurely stroll. 
*if ((rook_pissed) or (RookRel < 35))
  But once you arrive at the proper corridor… that's where the troubles begin.
  
  "Hello, Veteran ${name}!" Wisp says as it floats at eye level with you, blocking your way to Rook's door. "It's good to see you again, but I'm afraid I have to stop you. It would be very dangerous for you to go any further."
  
  *if Confid < 50
    "You mean there's danger nearby?" you ask concernedly. "Of what kind?"
  *if Confid >= 50
    "Dangerous for me?" you say with a great deal of skepticism. "Why so?"
    
  "Mister Kosteniuk told me there are airborne viruses in his room, and that they could infect your system should you ever enter. He then instructed me to stand guard for you, since he's just as concerned for your safety as I am."
  
  Looks like someone doesn't wish to see you. To be expected, given your… strained relationship with the meta-human.
  
  *label wisp_block
  *fake_choice
    *disable_reuse #"Airborne computer viruses? Seriously?"
      "I also thought it's terrifying!" Wisp replies. "But he said that if we just stay away from the doorstep…"
      
      "That's not what I meant," you interrupt. "Don't you think the idea of [i]computer viruses[/i] just physically floating in the air seems a little… absurd?"
      
      "More absurd than us hearing the screams of an evil, planet-eating God?"
      
      You don't reply. Wisp definitely has a point there, even if it doesn't change the situation much.
      *goto wisp_block
    *disable_reuse #"Wisp... Sergeant Kosteniuk is lying to you."
      "Are you sure?" Wisps muses. "He never lied to me before…"
      
      "You only met two weeks ago and barely interacted, Wisp. He never had the chance to lie to you."
      
      "So you agree he was being honest?"
      
      "What? No! He is totally just lying to be rid of me."
      
      "But you just said he never had the chance to lie. Does it mean he somehow lied despite it being impossible?"
      
      "Nevermind…" you sigh, sensing that logic is pretty much useless in this exchange.
      *goto wisp_block
    #"Thanks for warning me. And bye."
      "No problem, Veteran ${name}!" Wisp says as you walk away, and as Kirill probably breathes a sigh of relief behind the door.
      
      *return
    #"Fine. I'll leave if Rook doesn't want to see me."
      "He's just really concerned for you!" Wisp argues. "You can't blame him for feeling like he does."
      
      "You've got that last part right…" you murmur as you walk away, disappearing into a side corridor within another moment.
      
      *return
    #"Well I'm entering anyway. Out of my way."
      "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, ${name}," Wisp says sadly, not moving an inch as you take a step towards it. "For your own sake, I will have to stop you. With use of force, if you force me to enforce the quarantine so forcefully."
      
      Looks like Wisp wants to battle. Curious.
      *fake_choice
        #"Alright, sheesh. I'll leave if it's that big of a deal."
          "Thank you, Veteran ${name}!" Wisp says as you walk away, and as Kirill breathes a sigh of relief behind the door. Probably.
          
          *return
        #"You want to fight me? Bring it on, light bulb."
          *set health 1
          "As you wish, Veteran ${name}," Wisp sighs. "It will hurt me roughly as much as-"
          
          Wisp interrupts due to your fist impacting its small form. Its metal form, which you find even harder and more durable than you've previously assumed.
          
          During the next few minutes, you learn several other, fun facts regarding Wisp. Its gravity-manipulation abilities are surprisingly powerful and precise, allowing it to slam you against the roof and the floor within the same second. It also has more control over its light than you thought, being able to concentrate it into lasers which cause a fair bit of pain and damage even to an android as tough as you. Finally, it must know your physical makeup quite well, as it stops just short of killing you and throws you into an appropriate waste container once it's done with you.
          
          You dig your way out of the garbage some six minutes later. You do not return for another round.
          
          *return
    *if Social > 50
      #"I've encountered such viruses before. They are no big deal."
        "Really?" Wisp asks, seemingly buying your lie. "Then why is Mister Kosteniuk afraid? Is he underestimating your resilience?"
        
        "I think he's just really concerned about my well-being. Too much for his own good. Let me through so that I can thank him for caring so much."
        
        "Okay!" Wisp politely floats out of the way, letting you access the door. At last.

*if Social > 50
  *set RookRel %+ 10
*if sex != "person"
  *set RookRel %+ 8
*if heaven_side = "Loyalist"
  *set RookRel %+ 10
*if heaven_side = "Traitor"
  *set RookRel %- 10
The moment you push the unlocked door open, your audio receivers are filled with music, no longer muffled by the soundproof walls. Air is moved by the vibration of guitar strings, disturbed by Kirill's nimble fingers playing the instrument pressed to his chest. It's a simple, wooden thing, but still the most beautiful tool of music you've seen in a while.

As for the music the guitar produces… you were never a connoisseur, and you cannot recognize the tune, but you'd say Rook is rather good with the strings. You certainly can't fault his concentration, as he doesn't stir even as you close the door behind you, standing in his cozy little room as the wordless song goes on.

*temp lyrics false
*fake_choice
  #"Ekhem? I'm here to talk."
    *set RookRel %- 10
    After a few more notes, Kirill finally stops playing. He puts the wooden inst
    *goto r_nosong
  #"No lyrics? Come on Rook, give me something."
    Kirill looks at you briefly, with a small smile on his lips. When he parts those, lyrics to his song finally come out.
    *goto r_song
  #Wait for him to finish.
    *set RookRel %+ 5
    You stand there, politely, even as the melody goes for longer than you'd expect. At one point, it is joined by words, becoming a song proper.
    *goto r_song
  #Sit down and enjoy the music.
    *set RookRel %+ 10
    There is a rotating chair, a comfy one in one of the room's corners. You take a seat and meet Kirill in the eye, confirming he noticed you, seeing his smile. He looks like he's about to tell you something, but when he actually opens his mouth a few seconds later, the words are one with the melody.
    *goto r_song
  #Nudge Rook, forcing him to stop playing.
    *set RookRel %- 12
    The melody pauses mid-note as you pull at Kirill's arm. He sighs, puts the instrument away and looks at you with his blue, currently tired eyes.
    *goto r_nosong

*label r_song
*set lyrics true

[i]Break the cycle, end the pain,[/i]
*line_break
[i]I live for you, not in vain,[/i]
*line_break
[i]Grant me mercy, make me whole,[/i]
*line_break
[i]In the garden, cleanse my soul.[/i]

His singing voice is hardly amazing, but its softness fits with that of notes he plays and the lyrics he chose. He plays a few more notes, likely cutting the song short, before gently putting his guitar away and turning towards you fully.

"Thank you for your patience, ${fake_name}." If your presence annoys or worries the meta-human, he does not let that show. "I am at your disposal now. What brings you to my place?"

*goto rook_1

*label r_nosong

"${fake_name}." He half-heartedly tries to hide the distaste in his voice. "I was hoping to play a while longer, but I suppose there are more important things than music. What brings you here?"

*label rook_1
*temp flago false

*fake_choice
  #"I've heard you've been sitting, alone in your room like this, for quite a while now. Wanna do something fun?"
    "Are you asking me to spend time with you?" Rook raises an eyebrow. "Hang out, as some would say?"
    
    "Sure. Anything wrong with that?"
    
    *if RookRel > 50
      "Well, relaxing alongside an android will look bad on my record if Marshal chooses to report it… but I shall make that sacrifice for my dear friend." Kirill smiles with some uncertainty. "So what do you have in mind?"
      
      *label rook_hangout
      *fake_choice
        #"You're a chess player. Care for a game or two?"
          *set RookRel %+ 10
          "But of course." Rook perks up. "I have a chessboard ready, as well as plenty of passion for this warlike game. I daresay I have it in my blood—I was named after two greatest chess masters of Ancient Terra, after all."
          
          *if Database > 45
            "Are you sure about that?" You cock an eyebrow. "According to my database, neither Kirill Alekseenko nor Alexandra Kosteniuk was ever particularly famed."
            
            "My parents said these people were both madly famous…" Kirill's enthusiasm fades somewhat. "But that is neither here nor there. Come to the table, please."
          *if Database <= 45
            "I never heard of any grandmasters with your name or surname… But then again, I don't have much data regarding the sport," you say with a shrug.
            
            "Come to the table, then. I will enlarge your knowledge and hopefully set your enthusiasm towards the game aflame."
          
          You quickly set up the board on the small three-legged table and start playing. Almost as quickly, it becomes apparent that Kirill's passion for chess is unstained by the talent of his distant ancestors. It's not just that you're a computer, a thing that's been defeating grandmasters for over twelve centuries now, Rook is simply a bad player who thinks a knight as valuable as a bishop. He plays white the first time you clash, but you get a definitive advantage within the first ten moves.
          
          You could proceed and crush Rook (perhaps by taking his namesake pieces before assaulting the king) but that would feel vaguely mean, despite its fairness. Or you could sabotage yourself to some degree, making the game more satisfying for one, if not both of you.
          
          *fake_choice
            #Crush the bugger, no holding back.
              *set RookRel %- 10
              *achieve karpov
              The whole game takes perhaps thirty moves, and only because Rook refuses to resign until the end. He tries not to look like a sore loser after getting mated, but he still declines your offer of a rematch. 
            #Hold back a little. Make the game long and interesting.
              *set RookRel %+ 10
              *achieve karpov
              The game takes well over fifty moves as you miss tactics obvious to you, though very subtle as far as Rook's concerned. The meta-human ends checkmated, but only after what he feels was a hard and mostly even game of chess. Good for him, you suppose.
              
              You play another game. You're getting tired whilst Kirill is only getting more careful and determined, so you let him draw this one. 
            #Maneuver the game into a draw.
              *set RookRel %+ 10
              It's difficult to lose your advantage convincingly, but you manage. It helps that Kirill, for all his faults, knows how not to lose to a single a-file pawn in the endgame. You stalemate him with feigned disappointment.
              
              You play another game. Drawing that one is harder as you're using the white pieces, but you manage somehow, convincing Kirill you're evenly-matched and that further games are not necessary. 
            #Throw the game and let Rook win.
              *set RookRel %- 8
              You make inaccurate moves. When Kirill fails to capitalize on those, you make blunders. You manage to lose the game eventually, but by then your unwillingness to win is apparent. When Kirill finally catches your king, he does so with a sight, not particularly grateful for your pity.
              
              After that, Rook doesn't feel like playing anymore. 
            #Flip the board and leave.
              *set RookRel %- 12
              *achieve karpov
              You scatter the pieces over the floor, ending the game in what most chess leagues would count as forfeiting the game. You count that as not wasting your time.
              
              *goto alone_bye
          The two of you exchange a few more words, mostly regarding the game you just played, and then part ways. For all his love of chess, Kirill seems eager to go study the notes again and you don't feel like stopping him. Especially if it would mean using some of your precious, fading power.
          
          *return
        
        #"How about we head for the kitchen and just grab a Bileaccino each?"
          *set RookRel %- 10
          "I do not think you can drink it," Rook points out. "In fact, I doubt I can drink it. This coffee is foul."
          
          "Well of course, it's in the name," you say with a shrug. "But I still enjoy the experience of chatting with someone over a cup of coffee, and so can you."
          
          "I suppose you are right," Rook says thoughtfully. "It is the company which makes the date. Let's go."
          
          You find yourself an empty kitchen and a can of very loose, brown powder you then turn into liquid with boiling water and a bit of pig milk. This is the famous Pusjava Bileaccino, the most popular hot drink in the Federation and perhaps the entire Solar System. Cheap, easy to make, and quite tolerable once you've gotten used to it.
          
          Sadly, Kirill is not used to it. He ends up throwing up soon after drinking half of his cup, partially on the floor but mostly on you. He apologizes as you head for the bathroom, in hopes of washing all that vomit off, but you strongly suspect he's secretly blaming you for the incident. Either way, you may consider the date over.
          
          *return
        #"Teach me how to play that guitar of yours, will you?"
          *set RookRel %+ 10
          Rook frowns. "I am always eager to help, but… you are aware that one cannot just learn an instrument during a single evening?"
          
          "You are aware I'm an android, and that machine learning has been superior to organic learning for over twelve centuries now?'
          
          "Fair point." Kirill sits down on his bed and picks up his guitar again. "Come over here. I will introduce you to the basics, if nothing else."
          
          *page_break
          
          Grasping the mechanics of guitar play is not difficult, for the instrument is hardly complex. Nor do you have much trouble understanding the appeal—there is nothing special about music that a robot can't understand, as humanity has painfully learned during the "AI music" outrage fourteen centuries ago.
          
          *if (Database + Calculation) > 90
            And sure enough, you are able to play a nice tune on Rook's guitar after maybe a quarter of explanations and demonstrations from your enthusiastic teacher. Perhaps you have some faded memory of playing guitar somewhere on your old memory card, or perhaps you're just a natural thanks to your dexterity and vast processing power. Who knows.
            
            When it becomes clear there's not much he can actually teach you, Kirill very politely asks you to leave. Perhaps he noticed how weak you are and that you need charging, or perhaps envy struck him upon seeing such a quick learner as you. That is equally unknowable, but either way you oblige.
            
          *if (Database + Calculation) <= 90
            Nonetheless, it soon turns out you're not exactly a natural guitar player. Maybe it's some quirk of your programming or deficiency of your mechanical fingers, or perhaps simply the result of your fading battery. Who knows. Either way, it's clear that even with Kirill's explanations regarding various notes, you won't be able to master the instrument anytime soon.
            
            But that's alright. Once Kirill gets tired, the two of you part ways politely and on good terms. You can tell he's happy to introduce someone to his craft, or perhaps to just show off. Such a human trait, that.
          
          *return
        #"I say we find a Vision set and watch some movies together."
          "Movies, you say?" Rook's expression turns dreamy. "I remember the days when cinematography was still in fashion, when crowds were entertained by classics and blockbusters alike. Alas, I am afraid there are few good movies left by now… unless your station somehow evaded the eighth century purges?"
          
          "Not really." You remember those times too. The Federation was [i]very[/i] dedicated to destroying everything with the slightest bit of artistic value, and film tapes were easy to burn. "But we can still find something entertaining, if not exactly good."
          
          "Sounds like a contradiction… but very well. Enlighten me to the art of bad, entertaining movies."
          
          You smile. "I'll be more than happy, my sweet summer child. Follow me."
          
          *page_break
          *set RookRel %+ 10
          
          You show Kirill the old Vision set your group got working, with multiple movies and serials uploaded into the system in digital form. You then turn the thing on and show your companion the film adaptation of 'Divergent', a utopian novel from before Dawn, a production so awful it survived the Federation's purges of all valuable art. But as you soon prove, even such rubbish has some uses.
          
          It may be the first time you've seen Kirill laugh, truly and honestly and loudly, amused at the absurdity of what's happening on the screen. It's nice to see that aspect of him for once. Nice to see it's even there.
          
          But there can only be so much of a good thing. By the time credits roll, Rook has had enough, and your battery is half of what it was when the movie started. You quickly say your goodbyes and go your own, divergent ways.
          
        *if Confid > 50
          *disable_reuse #♡ "Sex, dear. We take our clothes off, hit the bed and have some fun."
            *if current_ro != "kirill"
              *set backup_RO current_RO
              *set current_RO "kirill"
            *if sex != "person"
              *set RookRel %+ 8
            Kirill blinks. "First of all, that would break all manners of commandments and military regulations I'm subject to. Secondly, I'm not that kind of guy."
            
            "Are you sure?" you ask playfully. "You just used a contraction, twice. Perhaps you're naughtier than you're letting on, huh?"
            
            "I'm really… I am really not," Kirill insists. "Just because I forget my manners in moments of fluster does not mean I will… pleasure anyone I am not in a proper, established, romantic relationship with."
            
            You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "At least you're not against premarital sex in general. Does that mean I have a chance?"
            
            *if RookRel > 45
              "Quite possibly." He flashes you a quick, small smile. "But as I said, you need to take it slow. Do more legwork before I can commit to any hip-work."
            *if RookRel <= 45
              "I did not say that." Rook frowns, almost grimaces. "Your advances, especially ones so crude, are not welcome. Cease them, if you would be so kind."
            *goto rook_hangout
        *disable_reuse #"Actually, let's just sit down and talk first."
          *goto talk_r
        #"Changed my mind, I'd rather have some alone time. Bye!"
          *label alone_bye
          
          Rook awkwardly waves you goodbye as you turn and walk away. "Glad you paid me a visit in the first place. However brief it was."
          
          *return
    *if RookRel <= 50
      
      "Likely. I do not imagine hanging out with an android, much less for the sake of entertainment, would look good on my record." Kirill smiles woefully. "But if you simply wish to talk, then I am all yours."
      
      *if Database > 45
        You wonder if Rook's worries are justified. More than that, you wonder if they're [i]honest[/i]. The guy's polite towards you, as he is towards everyone, but you're not the best of friends just yet. Or even friends enough to spend some leisurely time together, you suppose.
      
      *set flago true
      
      *choice
        #"Fine. Let's just talk."
          *goto talk_r
        #"I'll be going, if that's how it is."
          *goto alone_bye
    
  #"I just wanted to talk. Got a minute?"
    *label talk_r
    "Certainly." Rook sits down on the edge of his bed. "I am a man of many words, as you have probably noticed."
    
    "I have." You smirk slightly. "But I wouldn't be here if I didn't find your habits… @{(RookRel > 50) endearing|tolerable}."
    
    "And just like that, I am already flattered. And very much excited to see what your intended course for this exchange is."
    
    *if RookRel < 50
      You strongly suspect Rook isn't being entirely honest, that he finds your presence in his room unwelcome. But he apparently doesn't dislike you enough to throw you out, so that's nice.
    
    *label rook_hub
    
    *fake_choice
      *disable_reuse #"Your musical talent intrigues me. Care to tell me more about it?"
        *if not (rook_pissed)
          *set RookRel %+ 10
        "If this is what you wish." Kirill smiles radiantly. "I doubt there is much to talk about, for my craft is humble and my skill is limited… but please ask away."
        
        *temp reviewed true
        
        *label rook_muse
        
        *fake_choice
          #"Is artistic expression still legal in the Federation? I thought it got criminalized decades ago."
            "The rules are hardly this simple…" Rook averts his blue eyes. "Singing is not forbidden, nor is causing guitar strings to vibrate. We're not like Martians, not this unreasonable."
            
            "But creating something of artistic value [i]is[/i] illegal," you point out. "Expressing emotions other that patriotic zeal and hatred through music… That can land you in a labor camp."
            
            "The application of rules is not this simple either. Labor camps are filled with people who's best application is brute labor. Practical considerations are considered when it comes to persecuting such victimless crimes."
            
            You cock an eyebrow. "So… You're ignoring laws and regulations because you're important enough to get away with it?"
            
            "Important and valuable enough," he reluctantly admits. "I am not proud of this, but I'm also not in favor of these anti-art laws. Let's leave it at that, please."
            
            *goto rook_muse
          *disable_reuse #"What's the song about? I don't think I've ever heard it before."
            "Of course you have not. It comes from the Buyan Insula, and was seldom played even when we still…" Kirill winces during the pause, as though invaded by unpleasant memories. "Existed, I suppose."
            
            *if rook_story_learned
              You decide against broaching this subject again. 
            *else
              You decide to ask about that some other time. 
            "Why was it played rarely? Does the song have some religious significance? The anti-music laws weren't in effect yet."
            
            "It is a Christian song, but its meaning…" Kirill once again struggles to find proper words. "They went against the social atmosphere at the time, against the kind of attitudes that the Outer System War demanded of people. It was not safe to sing openly."
            
            *if lyrics
              "Break the cycle, end the pain," you recite the lyrics faithfully. "Yes, I see how this song could offend people during wartime. I remember seeing the streets of Titan right as the Federation declared war against Jupiter, watching the parades and hearing shouts of joy. There are cycles humans don't want broken, ever, no matter how much pain it would prevent." 
              
              His silence says more than a hundred words.
            *else
              "The melody was pretty peaceful," you admit. "What about the lyrics? Is anything about them objectionable."
              
              "You should not have interrupted me, if the lyrics interested you so." His voice turns a little harsh. "I will not recite them, for the their meaning can only be grasped by listening to the actual song. Just know they're not… the kind of thing Admiral West would be fine with."
            
            *goto rook_muse
          *if reviewed
            #"When did you learn to sing and play that well? You're a busy man."
              *set RookRel %+ 8
              Kirill smiles somewhat. "I am also an old man, loathe as I am to admit it. I've had time to practice over the decades."
              
              *label poaof4
              
              "Have you? I imagine guitar practice is difficult in a crowded base, or when you're deployed in the field."
              
              "For most of my service, I was in neither circumstance." Kirill grimaces. It's hard to tell whether there's anger in the expression, or if he's just recalling something unpleasant. "I've spent much of it in laboratories, factories, research facilities back when those were still common. Working on… various projects on behalf of the military."
              
              *set reviewed false
              
              *if rook_story_learned
                He suddenly shakes his head. "But I've just told you about that. Let us return to the subject, please."
              *else
                You raise an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you want to talk about it?"
                
                He shakes his head. "I'd rather stick to the subject. If you'd be so kind."
              
              *goto rook_muse
            #"Why are your vocals so bad? Do you lack the time to train, or are you just talentless?"
              *set RookRel %- 8
              Kirill frowns. "I suppose the latter. If you find my music deplorable, then it means I must lack talent. I've been practicing it for quite a while now."
              
              *goto poaof4
          #"Alright, I know all I wanted about your music."
        
        *if rook_pissed
          *set RookRel %- 10
        
        *if (sex != "person") and (RookRel > 50)
          "I never imagined an android would take interest in my music," Kirill remarks. "Are you perhaps taking interest in… The rest of me as well?"
          
          *if (current_ro = "kirill") or (backup_ro = "kirill")
            You smirk. "I've made my interest clear before, haven't I?"
            
            "I was afraid… I thought that perhaps you weren't serious, or that you've changed your mind since. Have you?"
          *else
            *if Confid > 50
              You smile confidently. 
            *else
              You blink. 
            "Whatever do you mean?"
          
            "I figured thought you might be impressed by my good looks, or personality, or…" Kirill meets you straight in the eye as he pauses. "I believe you know what I mean. Are you [i]interested[/i] in me?"
            
          *fake_choice
            *if (current_ro = "kirill") or (backup_ro = "kirill")
              #♡ "I have not. I'd still love to go on a date with you sometime."
                *set Confid %+ 8
                "I would not mind that either." 
                *goto kirill_loved
              #♡ "Well... If you're interested in me, then I guess we could try..."
                *set Confid %- 8
                "That is certainly a possibility." 
                *goto kirill_loved
              #"You're right, I wasn't serious when we flirted. Sorry."
                *set RookRel %- 8
                *label kirill_rejec
                *if current_RO = "kirill"
                  *set current_RO ""
                *if backup_RO = "kirill"
                  *set backup_RO ""
                "Huh." Kirill blinks, then looks away. "I really thought there was something there. Human folly, I suppose."
                
                He sits there, on the edge of his bed, for nearly a full minute. But just as you open your mouth to speak, he breaks the silence. "Nevermind, let's not talk about this any longer. I'm sure there are other questions you'd like to ask… Are there not?"
                
                *goto rook_hub
              #"I have changed my mind. I'm not interested in you, or at least not romantically."
                *goto kirill_rejec
            *else
              #♡ "Very much so. You are a fascinating person, and a handsome one at that."
                *set Confid %+ 8
                "And you are a true master of flattery." 
                *label kirill_loved
                *if current_ro != "kirill"
                  *set backup_RO current_RO
                  *set current_RO "kirill"
                *set hit_on_kirill true
                *set RookRel %+10
                Kirill smiles warmly and receptively… though only for a moment. "But… I recall reading some laws against fraternizing with one's crewmates. And other ones, about romancing androids."
                
                You frown. "Does that mean you're not interested?"
                
                "No, I mean yes, I mean…" Kirill purses his lips. "Let me think about it, perhaps. Ask me about something else."
                *goto rook_hub
              #♡ "Well... That depends. Do [i]you[/i] take any interest in [i]me[/i]?"
                *set Confid %- 8
                *goto kirill_loved
              #"I am not. Please stop imagining things."
                *set RookRel %- 12
                *goto kirill_rejec
              #"You're a great guy... but not a guy for me. Sorry."
                *goto kirill_rejec
            
            
        *else
          "And I'm glad to have provided you with that knowledge." Rook's tone seems insincere. He appears bored of your company, perhaps even annoyed by it. "Anything else you desire to learn about?"
        
        *goto rook_hub
      *disable_reuse #"I want to know more about you. Who you are, who you used to be."
        "I am flattered you would find my humble person so interesting." Kirill remarks. "And perhaps surprised."
        
        *if RookRel > 45
          "You are my squadmate, my leader, and someone I like quite a bit," you point out. "I think I should learn a thing or two about you."
        *if RookRel <= 45
          "Nothing wrong with expanding my database a bit." You shrug, not bothering to hide how little you care about Kirill's past or private life.
        
        "Very well, then. I shall tell you the story of my life, with as much brevity as is appropriate. Still, you should probably get comfortable where you sit."
        
        *temp lop false
        *label life_story
        
        *fake_choice
          *disable_reuse #"Wait, are you seriously going to give me your entire life story?"
            *set lop true
            "Well you asked…" Kirill deflates. "I figured I would deliver."
            
            "I know I asked, it's just… I've been hoping for one of these exchanges when I ask whatever question comes to mind, then move on to another subject once I exhaust all the options."
            
            "That is a strange way of putting it," Kirill points out. "In any case, I cannot give you what you want. Some stories need to be told in order, lest sense is lost in the chaos."
            
            *goto life_story
          *if lop
            #"Fine, go ahead if you must."
              *set RookRel %-5
          #"I'm already comfortable. Go ahead."
          #"Yeah, maybe let's talk about something else instead."
            *set RookRel %-10
            Rook frowns. "I am somewhat disappointed to hear you say that… but I suppose it would be vain of me to just start talking about myself to no end."
            
            You put on a smile. "Does that mean I get your thanks? For saving you from the most deadly sin of pride, I mean."
            
            "Not quite. Nonetheless, ask away."
            
            *goto rook_hub
        Rook clears his throat as you put one of your legs on the other, waiting for the meta-human to speak. To hopefully explain a thing or two.
        
        "As I may have mentioned once, I come from Titan, a region of it named [i]Buyan Insula[/i]. An island amidst a small sea on the inner surface on Titan, directly beneath a sea of liquid ethane."
        
        "I heard the name and know the coordinates," you say after a quick glance at your old files. "But I've heard almost nothing about people living there."
        
        "The modern inhabitants of the area are hardly exceptional," Rook says with an unusually sardonic smile. "Not that my people were ever well-known either. We were always a humble sort, you see."
        
        "You mean there was a change of hands during your lifetime?" It would be weird. Not impossible, regions in Titan are bought and sold and reassigned all the time, but large demographic changes are rare. It's been three years since the last genocide, and you're pretty sure it didn't involve the Buyan Insula.
        
        "Several." Kirill winces. "It is just what happens when you live for over three centuries."
        
        You cock an eyebrow. "You say you're how old?"
        
        "I have spent over two centuries hibernating, so my effective age is quite a bit lower," he replies casually. "But technically, I have lived for three hundred years. Three hundred and three, if you want to be exact,"
        
        *set rook_story_learned true
        
        *fake_choice
          #"That old and still a Sergeant? That's unusual."
            *set RookRel %-10
            He frowns. "I just explained that my actual age is far lower that three hundred years. Please pay attention."
            
            "I am," you say 
            *if Emotion < 55
              dispassionately. 
            *else
              with a smirk. 
            "And I highly doubt you were only awake for thirty or forty years. They wouldn't have let you sleep through the Outer System War, or even through most of it. Am I wrong?"
            
            "…you are not wrong. I do advance through the ranks slowly. But that is not something I wish to discuss." 
          #"You were born before the war, then. The Outer System one."
            "Yes. And it happens to be quite relevant to this story I'm telling." 
          #"You know you're not impressing me with that age, right?"
            *set Confid %+ 8
            He chuckles. "Of course not, Veteran. I fully realize the difference between being pre-modern and being ancient. Even if kids nowadays do not."
            
          #♡ "You're one hot grandpa, then."
            *set hit_on_kirill true
            *if current_ro != "kirill"
              *set backup_RO current_RO
              *set current_RO "kirill"
            *set RookRel %+10
            "I have no children, let alone grandchildren… but it feels nice to hear you say that, I suppose." 
          #"You don't look half that."
            *set RookRel %+10
            Kirill chuckles. "Thank you. I do put a fair bit of effort into looking young. It makes my rank feel more impressive, if nothing else."
            
            "So even your lived age is higher than you let on," you observe. "I assume the Federation provided you with rejuvenating treatments?"
            
            "Yes. Rejuvenating treatments, as well as other… body mods." 
          #"So over two centuries in hibernation? Were you exploring the Oort Cloud or something?"
            "No, most of my naps took place on Titan. I was sleeping there waiting for… something important to come up." 
        Kirill pauses for a long moment, as though battling some intrusive thought, perhaps a memory. When he speaks again though, his voice is unchanged.
        
        "As I said, we Buyans were a simple sort, followers of truly old ways. I received rudimentary education, enough to read and write and understand the basics of the scripture. By the turn of the century, the eighth one I mean, I've already been herding and breeding mules for several years. They were our main source of meat and labor power, those trusty animals."
        
        You cock another eyebrow. "Breeding? I thought mules were infertile. Being hybrids and all."
        
        "That did make my job a lot harder," Kirill says with a wince. "Made things harder for the entire community, in fact. So when the war started in seven fourteen, most of my kin were pretty happy about the fact."
        
        *fake_choice
          #"Were you?"
            "I don't really remember how I felt back then," Kirill says with a deep frown. "I think I supported the declaration of war against Jupiter… but was sad to see my countrymen leave to fight on distant worlds."
          #"How so? Were the Buyans exempt from the draft?"
            "Quite the opposite." Kirill flashes you a bitter smile. "People were happy to join the army, to get some proper rations and to prove their worth in combat. And to leave me behind with the mules."
          #"Hold on. Tell me more about herding mules."
            Kirill frowns. "I fail to see anything interesting about the activity."
            
            "Come on," you prompt him. "Give me some insight into this arcane art. Was it difficult to assign the exact right number of mules to the wounded every week? I bet it was tedious and unfair."
            
            Kirill frowns harder. "Friend, I have precious little idea what you are even talking about."
            
            "Just a jab at some code I've got saved up," you say with a shrug. "We can return to the point if you wish."
            
            "I would be most glad," Kirill says dryly. "Then again, I am no longer in the mood to describe how I felt when the men of my village were all drafted and shipped off to war."
          #"They bought the propaganda? That the war would benefit the Kronians and be over by Christmas?"
            *set RookRel %-10
            "I think they were just happy to finally get some proper rations," Kirill recalls plaintively. "I hope they had their fill before getting blown up, as most of them were."
        
        "Did you not come with them? I thought all men of fighting age, which meant double digits at the time, were required to join the army."
        
        "I was not part of that most esteemed group back then," Kirill explains, some reluctance audible in his soft voice. "You understand."
        
        *if sex != OGsex2
          "All too well." You wince, recalling your early days, before you gained the power to shapeshift freely. "Continue."
        *if sex = OGsex2
          "I suppose I do." You think of something else you could say, but you don't suppose Rook wants the subject pursued. "Go on."
        
        Kirill happily obliges. "At first, I would simply carry on tending to the mules. But as the war proceeded and failed to proceed well, the command started putting every civilian it could into support roles. At first they wanted to make me a medic or something, but during a routine inspection they discovered my blood was unusually full of nanomachines."
        
        "Making you a meta-human," you state the obvious. "I've been meaning to ask about that. What powers did they actually discover?"
        
        "Nothing at first. I was not a were-creature, nor a chosen of some false deity. The nanintes in my body seemed useless… until it turned out I had an unusual degree of control over them. Over [i]all[/i] nanomachines. I trust you realize the implications."
        
        *fake_choice
          #"You can influence other meta-humans. Fight them more effectively."
            "That is true," Kirill says with a nod. "I could make Renfri fall from the sky, or revert Lisa to her human form once she goes lupine. But at the time, negating other people's powers was not the best use of mine."
            
            "No? I thought both Jupiter and Uranus had countless meta-humans in their service. You could have served as a counter to them."
            
            "They had other tools, other armies. And we wanted a counter to all of them." Kirill closes his eyes, as though to better recall the distant past. 
          #"Nanomachines can create some nice superweapons, yes." 
            *set Misan %+ 10
            Kirill sits there silently for a moment. "I am a bit concerned that this is where your mind went, instantly. Nevertheless, you are correct. Congratulations."
            
            "I know humanity well," you remark. "So what did you do, exactly?"
            
          #"Yes. There must be countless medical applications of this kind of power."
            "Well… I suppose there are…" Rook averts his gaze. "But at the time, other uses of nanomachines were on people's minds."
            
            Oh dear. "What do you mean?"
            
          #"Not really. Care to explain?"
            "If I must." It is difficult to fully decipher what Kirill's expression turned into. There seems to be some disgust there, but you don't know its target. 
        "You probably know of the research facilities in Titan, in Mezzoramia. You may be aware that their main purpose is not gaining knowledge, necessarily, but to find new ways of applying existing technology. Mostly in the context of warfare."
        
        "I know," you reply. You realize, as well as anyone, that science is dead. The world today is far more primitive than it was a millennium ago, but in war…
        
        Nations still seek to outwit each other, as well as the safeguards placed by the World Engines. They develop weapons the enemy is not prepared for, and thus cannot counter. It is not necessary, or even advisable to make those weapons stronger than the previous generation. Just more creative, and preferably more cruel.
        
        "I helped perform some… experiments on war prisoners, see how various types of nanobots interact with various types of tissue. We found mixtures, conditions, detonation methods that neither of our rival powers was prepared for. We made new weapons and used them inside several moons of Uranus, as well as in Jupiter Trojans. It helped with ending the war more quickly than it would be possible otherwise, mere three decades after its beginning."
        
        *fake_choice
          #"That's cool. You made your mark on history."
            *set RookRel %+12
            "I suppose I did." Kirill says, without much conviction. "Shame the records are still classified. It prevents me from getting the credit some would say I deserve."
          #"None of this sounds very Christian, to be perfectly honest."
            *set RookRel %-6
            "I was having those thoughts myself," Kirill confesses. "But I think my actions were acceptable by God. And I went to shrift soon after the war, just to be sure."
          #"Can you tell me more about these experiments?"
            "There is nothing to know, really," Kirill dismisses you. "Just things that had to be done."
          #"You sound defensive. Trying hard to excuse yourself."
            *set RookRel %-12
            *label def
            "I'm not being defensive!" Kirill says defensively. "It's just… I talked with Renfri about this once or twice, and those were not pleasant discussions. Forgive me if I have a bad feeling about where this conversation is going."
          #"I remember that part. More than fifty million people died in these campaigns."
            "Mostly in the Trojans," Kirill says quickly. "Besides, have you heard of the things Uranians did on Mimas? Far worse than everything we were forced to do."
            
            "How is any of that relevant?" you ask with a frown. "And why are you so defensive all of the sudden?"
            
            *goto def
          #"I'm pretty sure it was more than thirty years."
            "A little bit," Kirill admits. "But it would have lasted forty if not for our resolve. Our lack of second thoughts."
        
        Another moment of silence, as unpleasant as any. At least judging from Kirill's tense expression, which relaxes once he starts speaking again. "In any case. Once the Treaty of L3 got signed and the war was over, I was moved to other projects in other laboratories. I used my powers for many things but, once it became clear that my influence over nanites grows weaker with age, the leadership started periodically freezing me. Since then I have been spending most of my time in stasis, only woken up to participate in important procedures."
        
        "Like experimenting on Miguel? He mentioned meeting you once or twice."
        
        "I would not say I experimented on him. I simply inspected and calmed down the nanites in his bloodstream, prevented him from getting himself or the people around him hurt. Seven years ago, I had to do the same for a werewolf that was rampaging across Calypso, though that situation was a bit more… high pressure, you could say."
        
        "So that's how you and Lisa met," you remark with some amusement. "I was wondering why they put her on your team, of all people."
        
        "They did not make the two us squadmates immediately. First there was a long period of teaching Lisa how to control her powers and her anger. Even after that, she was not fully trusted to work in law enforcement. It was Crystal's emergence that prompted Admiral West to make a team out of us and Renfri. I believe you know the rest of the story."
        
        *label rook_hub_2
        *fake_choice
          *disable_reuse #"Come on, tell me more about the Trio's early days."
            "I am not telling you about our Wendigo hunt," Kirill says firmly. "Or about the discussions regarding our chess motif."
            
            "I can imagine why," you say with a smirk. "Can you at least, I don't know… explain how you all got your codenames?"
            
            "Mine was chosen due to the aforementioned chess motif before we abandoned the idea. Marshal was… a badge of honor, I suppose. Even back then, Renfri was upset at still having the rank of Agent. We wanted to make her feel better about herself."
            
            "And Hellhound? Was the name chosen to intimidate your enemies?"
            
            "It was chosen once I had rejected Lisa's twentieth suggestion for what her codename should be." Kirill grimaces. "All twenty were obscenities, in case you are wondering. But yes, I suppose intimidation was part of my design."
            
            *if Confid > 50
              "I don't find it particularly scary," you reply. "But each to their own, I suppose."
            *if Confid <= 50
              "I don't think that woman needs a codename to be scary." You grimace as well. "Regardless…"
            *goto rook_hub_2
          *disable_reuse #"What happened to your people? To the Buyan Insula?"
            "Nothing spectacular, we just…" Kirill's voice breaks. "Fizzled out, I suppose."
            
            "What do you mean by that?" you ask @{(Confid > 55) impatiently|cautiously}.
            
            "After the war ended, most adult men were either dead or misplaced. Our religion forbade polygamy and the priests were… uncharitable towards the concept of women living on their own. Not that there were many priests left, or much for anyone to live off."
            
            "And so everyone left?"
            
            "Some people did. More stayed, but abandoned our culture, especially as immigrants replaced those gone. There are people who consider themselves Buyan even now, but they are not Christian or… anything like me. In many ways, I am the last of my kind."
            
            *if Misan > 50
              You feel a spike of anger, easy to suppress but leaving a sting all the same. [i]If you only knew what that means…[/i]
            
            *goto rook_hub_2
          *disable_reuse #"You really haven't participated in any conflicts since the Outer System War? Sounds like a waste of your powers."
            *set Violence %+ 10
            "There were not that many conflicts for me to participate in," Kirill points out. "Some minor uprisings within the Federation and proxy wars beyond it, but nothing that would make my presence useful, or even desirable."
            
            "Except the Fomorian War," you point out in return. "Or the Tenth Jehad, however you want to call it. You were alive and active during that time, right?"
            
            "We do not talk about the Fomorian War," Kirill says firmly.
    
            "Come on. I want to hear more about this epic struggle against the giants of Titan."
            
            "You do not."
            
            "What about the time there was black snow, and-"
    
            "We don't talk about the Fomorian War!"
    
            "Alright! Sheesh…"
            *goto rook_hub_2
          *disable_reuse #"Okay then. What do you intend to do now?"
            "You mean after we slay the monster known as Crystal and save the Federation from its terror?" Kirill asks.
            
            "After that," you confirm, looking Rook straight in the eye. "Any goals or aspirations?"
            
            "I have little choice in what I do. There will be another threat, another mission, another experiment," Kirill replies solemnly. "And I will answer the call, as the loyal officer I am."
            
            "Do you have any hopes, then? Perhaps one for greater freedom?"
            
            "I do… daydream about what this mission could do for my reputation." Kirill lightens up, his voice no longer wistful but rather… something else. "I could easily get a promotion, and then be assigned some more high-profile missions, and then gain recognition if not downright fame. Influence, even."
            
            "And what do you intend to do with that?" You raise an eyebrow.
            
            "I could influence the Federation in so many ways, show people so many things…" Kirill sighs, with tiredness of sixty years behind the sound. Behind him. "But as I said, that is just daydreaming. Let us talk about something else."
            
            *goto rook_hub_2
          #"You lead an interesting life. Thank you for recounting it.
            *set RookRel %+10
            "You are more than welcome," Kirill says with a smile. "Once you have lived longer than most people ever will, you cherish any chance of sharing stories with somebody."
            
            "I know something about that feeling," you smile just a bit bitterly. Just a tiny bit.
          #"Well those were the most boring few minutes of my life."
            *set RookRel %-10
            "I am saddened, if not entirely surprised you feel that way," Kirill says with a shrug. "We can talk about something else if you would like."
        
        *goto rook_hub
      *disable_reuse #♡ "What do you think of me? Do you find me at all pretty?"
        *set hit_on_kirill true
        *if current_ro != "kirill"
          *set backup_RO current_RO
          *set current_RO "kirill"
        "My thoughts about you…" Kirill strokes his chin. 
        *if Emotion > 60
          "More than anything, I continue to be astounded at how human you are. You are capable of not just emotion, but a sort of… passion I downright envy. Not what I ever expected from an android."
        *elseif Misan < 40
          "I will say I admire your ability to work with me, and with my fellow meta-humans. It implies either a sort of loyalty for my kind, or willingness to forgive past wrongs. Both of which are admirable."
        *elseif Social > 50
          "I am impressed by how human you appear. No, how you have the ability to appear as whatever you want. There is something supernatural about your charisma, for better or worse."
        *elseif Violence < 40
          "I am rather fond of your distaste for violence. I do not necessarily agree, given our mission and my position, but there is something Christian about your approach." 
        *else
          *set RookRel %-10
          "I find you an enigma. I fail to see any rhyme, any… pattern to your words and choices. Some would call you inconsistent, I believe you complicated. For better or worse."
        
        "Good to know, I suppose." There's just a hint of impatience in your voice. "And what about the second question?"
        
        *if sex != "person"
          *set RookRel %+10
          "I do find you attractive, I suppose," Rook says neutrally. 
          *if sex = "woman"
            "You are a beautiful woman, one difficult not to look upon with lust."
          *if sex = "man"
            "If I was less virtuous, I would envy your good looks. How… handsome you are."
        *if sex = "person"
          *set RookRel %-10
          "I prefer not to answer that one. Do not misunderstand me, I do not consider you ugly… but the charm of your sexless body is mostly lost on me."
        
        "I see. And what about the implication?"
        
        *if RookRel >= 50
          Rook pauses for a moment. "I admit… I have been considering making advances on you, once or twice. But I see you decided to take initiative yourself."
          
          You nod. "And do you find my advances unwelcome?"
          
          "Not at all." Rook smiles slightly. "You are welcome to keep on trying. Just know I may not be able to… commit right away. I like taking my time in all things, and human-android relationships are no exception."
        *if RookRel < 50
          "It is one you should get out of your head," Kirill says with sudden coldness. "I am not that kind of person. Never will."
          
          You almost manage to hide the flinch.
        *goto rook_hub
      *disable_reuse #"I want to talk about important stuff. Religious, ideological, eschatological matters."
        *set RookRel %+10
        "And I am well willing to talk back." Rook smiles not just politely, but with excitement. "Just know that these three topics are really just one to me."
        
        "Right. 
        *if Database > 45
          I gathered you're a believer, and religion always sought to control everything from law to cosmology at once."
        *if Database <= 45
          Human religion does a lot of things at once."
        
        "The word of God applies to everything," Kirill says with great solemnity. "Want me to elaborate on that concept, or do you have some other queries?"
        
        *label rook_r
        *fake_choice
          *disable_reuse #"Just explain your religion to me. Your form of Christianity."
            *set RookRel %+10
            "That would take quite a while," Rook muses, visibly glad you asked. "There are many things separating the Eastern Orthodox Church from other, less faithful denominations. The core of the Christian faith, however, is delightfully simple in its beauty."
            
            "You mean the part about Jesus Christ dying for our sins?" you wager a guess. "I think I have a gospel or two on my memory card, so you don't have to explain that part."
            
            "Right. I suppose that saves me some time." Rook looks to the large book on his shelf, his expression mildly wistful. "Of course, we could debate the exact nature of our Lord, but I personally think the Council of Nicaea solved that dispute in a satisfactory manner."
            
            "What about all the other stuff? About the commandments, laws, principles Christians must follow? Do you consider those simple as well?"
            
            "But of course. As is written in the Gospel of Matthew, you simply do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets. This rule, the Golden Rule if you would like, covers and contains all morality within itself."
            
            *fake_choice
              #"Yes, I can see the wisdom of such law."
                *set RookRel %+15
                Kirill blinks. "Huh. It has been a while since someone saw the wisdom of… any part of the Bible. Or anything I am saying, really."
                
                "I can understand the value of empathy," you explain with a shrug. "You learn to consider different perspectives when you live so long as I did… and see so much pain. Lots of it could have been avoided were humans more willing to apply that Golden Rule of yours."
                
                "Then I applaud your intellect and thank you for the surprise," Kirill says with a respectful nod. "Anything else you would wish to know?"
              #"So all other commandments are just pointless?"
                "Hardly pointless." Kirill frowns. "They just tell us how to follow the One Commandment more efficiently, by giving examples of its application."
                
                "Does that include the first few commandments from the tablets? Such as the one about worshiping the God of Israelites and Him only? [i]Thou shalt have no other gods before me?[/i]"
                
                "Well if you were in God's place, you would probably want to be worshiped. Would you not?"
                
                You can't really disagree with that logic.
              #"I guess it is pretty simple. I can see the appeal of your faith."
                *set RookRel %+10
                "And that makes me very glad." Kirill sighs plaintively. "I will never understand why so many reject that simplicity in favor of Solarism. Must be their insatiable thirst for sin."
                
                "I mean, Kronian Solarism is pretty simple as well," you point out, for the sake of fairness. "Only Five Commandments."
                
                "Five is more than one," Kirill says dismissively. "And so I still fail to see the appeal of worshiping some distant ball of plasma other than desire for evil."
                
                "The Sun is very big and bright. It's obviously there, unlike the gods of old. Don't you think this may be the main selling point?"
                
                "No. Next question."
                
              *if Violence > 50
                #"Sounds lame. Hurting people is more fun."
                  *set RookRel %-10
                  *set Violence %+ 15
                  "I did notice your violent tendencies, yes." Kirill grimaces. "Any chance you will ever reconsider your stance?"
                  
                  "I may give pacifism a try," you say amicably. "Do you want me to do it now, or after I kill Crystal for you?"
                  
                  "Touché."
              *if Database > 50
                #"Not really. It's a pretty crappy rule to be honest."
                  *set RookRel %-15
                  "I always found it quite perfect," Rook says with a scowl. "What do you think is objectionable about it?"
                  
                  "I'm low on energy," you reply. "Want me to stab you with an electric cord and recharge you?"
                  
                  "What?" Rook blinks, displeasure turning to confusion. "I don't run on electric power and would not… oh."
                  
                  "Precisely." You smile coyly. "The rule only really works if everyone wants to be treated the same way. Every small difference pokes holes in it, large discrepancies make it downright harmful. I don't imagine you tolerate high voltage well, after all."
                  
                  "Well, we Christians are allowed to take common sense into consideration," Rook starts protesting. "You would not want to be charged like that if you were human, and so you should not attempt that operation on me."
                  
                  "Perhaps, but that just leads to more problems. Say someone kidnaps and enslaves you, forcing you to work under a threat of torture. If you were them, you'd want your new captive to serve you well. Does that mean you, the victim, have an obligation to serve your enslaver?"
                  
                  "Well the Bible tells slaves to obey their masters, in the spirit of…" Kirill pauses, seeing your increasingly hostile glare. "You know what, nevermind. Let us talk about something else."
                  
            *goto rook_r
          *disable_reuse #"I haven't met many Christians recently. Are you the last one?"
            "No, and thank God for that," Kirill laughs. "His word cannot be extinguished that easily. There are some Catholics on Proteus, and I've heard the Tewahedo Church is going strong on Ceres. There are dozens of us, I dare say."
            
            "Those are both heretical branches though." Not that there ever lived any non-heretical Christians. "Are there any other followers of the Orthodox Church?"
            
            Kirill's smile fades quickly. "Not in the community I was a part of, not that there is much left of it. The Buyans, I mean. There may be other churches out there than consider themselves Orthodox, but… I have my doubts."
            
            "So you may well be the last of your kind?" You think back to the days when it seemed plausible you were the last android alive. You realize that you likely [i]are[/i] the last of your kind, if one considers pre-Dawn androids a distinct group. "That's…"
            
            "That just means there's a great responsibility on my shoulders," Kirill finishes for you. "Almost a cross, but I am more than willing to bear it. I will spread the good news wherever I can, and if I fail to convert anyone… well, all the more place for me in heaven."
            
            "Not a bad attitude to have," you remark. "Anyway…"
            *goto rook_r
          *disable_reuse #"Ever tried converting your teammates? To your faith, I mean."
            "Renfri and Lisa?" Rook winces. "I did. To little success."
            
            "Neither of them seems like the type," you say understandingly. "Did they even listen to your preaching?"
            
            "They did, for better or worse. Renfri was pretty polite about it, letting me read out however many verses I wanted… but we ended up wasting one another's time. She would not entertain any religion that did not place her [i]Emperor[/i] above everything else, including God himself." The title of Uranus' ruler is uttered with such contempt you wonder by what miracle is Kirill still alive. Speaking ill of the Emperor near an Uranian rarely ends well.
            
            "And Hellhound?" you keep asking. "Are you saying she also humored you?"
            
            "Briefly. I explained the basics of Christianity to her, mostly things related to Jesus himself." Kirill's voice is enthusiastic, elated even. "How he was born and killed to save us, how he healed bodies and souls alike, how we could all gain life eternal by following his teachings and example. Hos [i]she[/i] could be saved, were she to repent for her sins and embrace Christ."
            
            The joy fades, both on Kirill's face and in his voice. "She asked whether my messiah ever repented himself, how he behaved whenever he realized he was in the wrong. I said that Christ committed no sin, for he was God Himself. She rolled her eyes, said that she was going to follow my Lord's example, then walked away with no intention of changing her ways. Can you believe that, ${fake_name}?"
            
            *fake_choice
              #"Keep trying, I'm sure you'll convert them both in no time."
                *set RookRel %+ 10
                "Your faith in me warms my hardened heart." Kirill's smile returns. "It is certainly greater than my own belief in myself… but I will keep trying."
                
                "That's all anyone can ask of you." Well, some people may ask Kirill to stop preaching, but to hell with them. Literally. "In any case…"
              #"She's a bitch. Don't let her get to you."
                *set RookRel %+ 10
                "Thank you for confirming my observations," Kirill says with a slight smile. "Still, every soul deserves a chance for salvation, no matter how hardened and blackened."
                
                *goto willyou
              #"Sounds aggravating, but I'm not sure what you expected."
                "I hardly know that myself," Kirill sighs in sheer agony. "I suppose I was so desperate to save her soul… I did not care for any verbal abuse I was likely to receive along the way."
                
                *label willyou
                "Will you keep trying?" you ask concernedly. "To convert either of the girls?"
                
                "I was thinking of doing as the Gospel of Matthew commands and simply dust off my feet… but I will probably make at least one more attempt, now that we are all likely to be killed by a wyvern in the near future. Maybe there is yet a chance."
                
                "You sound awfully optimistic when it comes to faith. And quite pessimistic when it comes to our mission."
                
                "Thank you. Anything else?"
              #"Well, have you tried actually answering her question?"
                *set RookRel %- 15
                "But I did," Kirill protests in confusion. "I told her Christ was free of sin, even explained why and how, and she still ignored me."
                
                "That's like, twice removed from what she asked for," you point out. "The question is about right and wrong, not sin or absence thereof."
                
                "Sinning [i]is[/i] being wrong," Rook explains with strained patience. "It's about denying God, who is Truth, and suffering because of it."
                
                "No it's not. Sin is about scriptures, being wrong is about reality. Denying the truth, actual truth, or hurting others because of that delusion." You don't think you're getting through. But the obvious should still be said. "A messiah who's always right would certainly be something. A messiah who never sins is nothing. And they have nothing to do with one another."
                
                "So you're just saying my faith is wrong and want me to accept that premise?" Rook scowls. "I have to say, ${fake_name}… I don't like where this conversation is going."
                
                "I can see that," you say dryly. "Allow me to steer it somewhere else."
              #"I don't understand the issue. She did what you asked of her."
                *set RookRel %- 30
                "I did not tell her to walk away." Kirill frowns confusedly. "I wanted her to accept Christ."
                
                "Well, she did," you say matter-of-factly. "You told her that your messiah never admits to being wrong. And so neither did she."
                
                "That's… technically true I suppose?" Rook doesn't appear convinced. "But it is nothing but a play on words. Of course you cannot admit to being wrong if you never are. If you are God."
                
                "You think gods never do anything wrong?" You almost want to laugh. "Kirill, I've seen gods set the heavens on fire. Clearly someone was wrong back then."
                
                "They were man-made constructs, not truly divine. My God is different."
                
                "How?" you challenge the assertion. "The Solar System is full of people who think they're always right, but nobody is. In that way we're all the same, humans and androids and gods above. The difference is in what happens after we fail, make mistakes, hurt people. Learning to do better, that's what gives us worth. And if God never grows, feels no remorse, makes no amends and learns nothing, well… that's what He is."
                
                His eyes narrow. "Are you calling my Lord worthless? Nothing?"
                
                "You're calling him that. And it makes it really damn hard for someone like Lisa to see the damn point of that faith you're pushing."
                
                Silence falls in the sound-proof chamber. The guitar lies still on the table, a book rests easy on the shelf.
                
                "I do not like where this is going," Rook says after a while. "Please ask me about something else, if we are to talk at all."
            
            *goto rook_r
          *disable_reuse #"What are your politics? Do you vote West or East?"
            "Neither," Rook says dispassionately. "My vote would not matter even if these parties were not basically identical."
            
            You blink. Most people in the Federation have strong opinions regarding their chosen party, and yet stronger—and venomous—opinions regarding the other one and its evil voters. "That's… refreshing to hear. And surprising."
            
            "How so? Did you expect me to have a strong bias towards one side or the other?"
            
            "Kronians often do. And you seem to be quite a patriot. Someone whom the West party is always appealing to."
            
            "Well, I also happen to be quite old," Kirill sighs deeply. Tiredly. "I remember times where political parties actually differed, truly fought. So forgive me if I'm not particularly interested in the question of whether I should be allowed to shoot a velociraptor for throwing bananas at me."
            
            "You sound like an East voter in disguise," you point out. "I mean, how can you not oppose their pro-Dromaeosaurid policies? It's obviously just the first step to taking away your guns!"
            
            Rook does not comment further.
            *goto rook_r
          *disable_reuse #"Say... Is God fond of androids, in your belief?"
            "I asked myself that question once or twice since we met," Kirill confesses as he steals a glance towards the single book in the room. "The scripture is silent on the matter, but… I do believe your kind has souls, and thus potential worth."
            
            "Even though we were not created by God?" you raise an eyebrow.
            
            "Not directly… but hardly anything was," Kirill starts explaining. "Even normal humans, born the traditional way, are creations of the womb rather than Lord himself. They have place in His world all the same, and so do you.
            
            C. S. Lewis style of thinking, then. Been a while since you've last encountered it. "Are you sure? That's quite a creative interpretation of the Christian doctrine."
            
            "If some Orthodox priest ever tells me otherwise, I will defer to his judgment." Kirill shrugs. Then looks at you curiously. "Why do you ask? Are you hoping to perhaps… join my denomination?"
            
            *fake_choice
              #"You mean to become Christian? Would that be even possible?"
                "But of course!" 
                *label bapt_1
                Kirill almost jumps in sudden excitement, though he recovers soon enough. "I mean… I am reasonably certain that allowing you to join the Easter Orthodox Church would not be heretical, yes."
                
                "You are quite enthused about something that's [i]probably[/i] not heretical in your books." you point out.
                
                "Oh well…" Kirill averts his eyes again. "I may be a bit overzealous. You must understand, the list of people I successfully converted is… not positive. I would be forever grateful if you decided to accept my invitation to the Kingdom of God."
                
                He straightens up, assumes a tone calmer and more ceremonial than even his normal speech. "Nonetheless, you would be the main beneficiary of such an arrangement. It would be a grave sin to deny you this opportunity for salvation, and so… would you like me to baptize you, ${name}?"
                
                *label bapt_hub
                *fake_choice
                  *if heaven_side = "Traitor"
                    *disable_reuse #"Forget being an android. Can a [i]person[/i] like me ever be accepted by God?"
                      "Our Lord accepts all who seek Him," Rook says profoundly. "He died for our sins. What makes you think he would not forgive yours?"
                      
                      "Because I swore myself to the Archfiends during my century-long, partially successful, genocidal quest to obliterate everything human."
                      
                      "…that is certainly something," your interlocutor admits. "Still, Christian doctrine clearly states that the sacrament of baptism washes away all sins. Even those significantly more… impressive than the usual ones."
                      
                      "Well that's nice. But to actually answer your question…"
                      *goto bapt_hub
                  *disable_reuse #"Are you authorized to baptize people?"
                    "Not in the usual circumstances," Rook admits with little reluctance. "I am not ordained, and it would usually be proper for a priest to carry out the sacrament. But any of my kind can perform baptism in case of emergency, in all extreme circumstances."
                    
                    "And do you consider this an emergency?" you ask, sitting comfortably in a relatively safe and cozy room.
                    
                    "Are you suggesting me being quite possibly the last Orthodox Christian alive does [i]not[/i] constitute an emergency?"
                    
                    "Fair point."
                    
                    *goto bapt_hub
                  #"Sure. I accept Christ as my Lord and Savior."
                    *label bat_1
                    *set RookRel %+ 25
                    *set creed "Christian"
                    *set master "Jesus"
                    *set god_gen 1
                    "Then you have saved yourself," Rook says radiantly. "Well, you were saved, it is heretical to claim that a man can… I mean a human in general, though I guess androids also count… damn it, I'm really not qualified for this."
                    
                    "You're doing fine," you assure your fellow Christian. "Now, how does your Church perform the sacrament? It has something to do with water, right?"
                    
                    "Three-fold immersion." Kirill stands up. "I think I saw a bathroom with a tub nearby. Follow me, and follow the Lord forever."
                    
                    *page_break Born Again
                    
                    You indeed manage to find a bathtub, one that Kirill quickly starts filling with water before ordering you to remove all clothes. It feels a little weird, especially as you enter the tub and get fully submerged in the cold water. Thrice, once per each member of the Holy Trinity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, as Kirill says as he pushes you underwater.
                    
                    In the death, burial and resurrection of Christ are your sins cleansed. You don't feel any different once the process is complete… and so you make yourself feel different. You swear you will follow the Bible's teachings, that you will be granted life eternal. Your new God is unlike most deities of the Solar System, he won't show himself physically or change you all by himself, but perhaps that's part of the appeal. Or part of the challenge of following Christ. Perhaps both.
                    
                    Kirill is elated. He wants to celebrate, even though he has no idea how, and even though you're running out of power. The two of you sing a few songs, a few hymns, but that's about as much as you can take. You excuse yourself and depart, leaving the other member of the Eastern Orthodox Church to ponder if he's qualified to give sermons now, and if he needs to perform a mass for chrismation to take place.
                    
                    *return
                    
                  #"Yes. I wish to join your Church. His Church."
                    *goto bat_1
                  #"On second thought... I don't think Jesus is for me. Sorry."
                    *set RookRel %- 10
                    *goto ooooo
              #"Depends. Are you offering?"
                "Of course I am!" 
                *goto bapt_1
              #"Not really. I was just a little curious."
                *label ooooo
                "Ah. Forgive me, I got some… rather strange hopes up." And just like that, the curiosity fades away. "Forget I asked. But remember that the door may yet be open for you, somewhere and sometime."
                
                "I'll be sure to. Anyway…"
                
                *goto rook_r
              #"God no. Your faith sucks."
                *set RookRel %- 15
                *goto ooooo
          #"Enough theology for now."
            "I would say there is never enough… but I know this opinion to be quite unpopular." Rook smiles with vague self-deprecation. "You are welcome to ask about something else, if you have anything that is."
            
            *goto rook_hub
      *disable_reuse #"Let's talk about the mission. How we intend to complete it."
        "Ah. Official business." Rook seems disappointed, for whatever reason. "Very well, tell me what aspect of our task you are worried about, and your dear leader will answer."
        
        *if Confid > 50
          "I'm not really worried. I was just wondering…"
        *if Confid <= 50
          "Thanks. Because I was wondering…"
        
        *temp inftold false
        *label rook_m
        *fake_choice
          *disable_reuse #"Where do you intend to fly us next?"
            *set inftold true
            *set RookRel %+ 6
            *if not (saturn_complete)
              "Well, I see no reason not to visit the Yakovian Expanse, as I suggested before," Kirill replies authoritatively. "If anything, I would say the events in $!{last_mission} prove I was right back then."
              
              "But you aren't sure we'll find Crystal there, are you?"
              
              "I am not." And just like that, the mask of confidence falls away. "There is no guarantee we will find that wyvern anyway, no matter how good we are. We just need to keep trying, and be ready for combat in case we succeed."
              
              Well that's comforting.
            
            *if saturn_complete
              "Well, it has to be one of Tethys' trojans." Kirill strokes his chin. "Calypso or Telesto. I have no strong preference, and either choice will incur the womanly wrath from one of my teammates. Difficult decision, that."
              
              "You'll have me make that call, won't you?"
              
              "Quite possible." Kirill smiles. "You are our Veteran. It would be prideful of me to not defer to your superior experience every once in a while."
              
              "Sounds like you just want all this womanly wrath focused on me."
              
              "It does sound like that indeed," Kirill agrees. "Any other questions?"
            
            *goto rook_m
          *disable_reuse #"I remember West saying something about upgrading Grey Queen. How's that going?"
            *set inftold true
            "Slowly," Kirill says dismissively. "Aside from small improvements your lovely mechanic made, [i]Grey Queen[/i] is not working any differently than it did a month back."
            
            "Does that mean you abandoned whatever plans you had for the ship?"
            
            "Not quite… It will just take us a while to realize these plans. Hopefully we will have shot Crystal back then."
            
            You furrow your brow. "I sense you're hiding things from me. Which is silly. I'm part of this mission, and there's no harm in me knowing more about it."
            
            "There may be no harm, but I would have no rank if not for my adherence to procedures and secrecy," Rook says grimly. "Forgive me. And drop the subject, if you may."
            *goto rook_m
          *disable_reuse #"What do you think of our squad?"
            *set inftold true
            "The heroic, dynamic team we have successfully assembled?" Kirill smiles radiantly. "I could not be prouder of the party I command and cannot imagine it failing. Why do you ask?"
            
            You stare at him.
            
            "Well, there may be… some issues regarding teamwork and coordination," your leader reluctantly admits. "But rest easy knowing I have everything under control."
            
            You stare at him some more.
            
            "Alright…" Kirill sighs deeply. "The truth is, I have no idea if our team is good enough. Everyone is talented in some way, and we have two absolute powerhouses thanks to you and Lisa…"
            
            "But there is no synergy," you finish for him. "Not only do our squadmates fail to complement one another, they actively clash more often than not. Which means we lack something more important than individual strength."
            
            "There you go. Still, I am honest when I call these problems fixable. We just need to bond a little."
            
            You return to staring at him.
            
            "Okay, we will need to bond a [i]lot[/i]," Kirill grudgingly admits. "Just… let me remain optimistic about the matter. Someone has to believe in our impending success, after all."
            
            *goto rook_m
          *disable_reuse #"Do you actually think we stand a chance?"
            *set inftold true
            "There is always a chance," Kirill says wisely. "In fact, Admiral West believes there is nothing [i]but[/i] probabilities. I personally disagree, since all is a part of God's plan and uncertainty is an illusion, but I highly doubt that plan precludes our eventual victory."
            
            "You just said a whole bunch of nothing," you politely point out. "Does that mean you…?"
            
            "Have no idea what our odds actually are?" Kirill sighs, his confident expression fading. "Yes, that does mean that. Truth be told, I am a little scared myself. I just do not find my fear particularly helpful, and so do not express it often."
            
            "It is a mind-killer, yes. Anyway…"
            
            *goto rook_m
          *if (crystal_motive) or (Violence < 40)
            *disable_reuse #"Are you sure killing Crystal is the right thing to do?"
              *set RookRel %-10
              *set inftold true
              "But of course." Rook frowns. "Why would it be anything but?"
              
              *if crystal_friend
                "Well…" You wonder how to express yourself without revealing your hidden intentions. "Are you entirely sure killing Crystal will benefit the Federation?"
                
                "I have to repeat myself." Rook's eyes narrow. "Why would it not? How can the absence of a Dusk-infused monster possibly hurt us?"
                
                "Well, it's not like killing that monster will destroy the Dusk nanites inside it. We certainly won't destroy all these artifacts Crystal seeks to absorb. There will be somewhere doing something regardless."
                
                "And you believe they may be safer inside that diamond wyvern?" Rook asks, then sighs once he receives a nod from you. "Don't worry about that. We have our mission, and we will complete it. If by some crazy stroke of misfortune we end up harming the Federation, well… I fail to see why you'd be concerned. ${name}."
                
                You decide not to press further.
                
                *goto rook_m
              
              *elseif Violence < 40
                "Look, I just rather think twice before killing [i]anything[/i]." Or thrice, or eight times to make use of three bits at once. "And I figure you'd feel the same. [i]Thou shall not kill[/i] is a commandment, after all."
                
                "Thou shall not [i]murder[/i] is the more accurate translation of that rule," Kirill replies dismissively. "And killing a bloodthirsty wyvern is certainly not murder. It is something we need to do, whether you enjoy that prospect or not."
                
                "Do you enjoy it?" you argue back. "Because you really sound like you do."
                
                "I will do what is necessary. And I advise you start sharing this attitude."
                *goto rook_m
              *else
                "I mean…" you try to verbalize your conflicted thoughts. "Crystal thinks they're in the right, and their logic isn't even that terrible. I won't take any pleasure from killing them."
                
                "We are not ordered to enjoy our task, but to complete it," Kirill says sternly. "So focus on that. And remember what's in it for you."
                
                You do. And you keep wondering whether that's enough… but you see there's no point in pursuing the topic further.
                
                *goto rook_m
                
          *if inftold
            #"Alright. I require no more information."
              "Such a productive conversation we are having!" Kirill says cheerfully. "Still… I would not mind if you 
              *if RookRel < 50
                left me to my own devices, now that you know everything practical. I still have a few notes to master, you see."
              *if RookRel >= 50
                asked about something less dismal. Less professional. We are on shore leave, after all."
              
              You consider the proposal.
              
              *goto rook_hub
              
      #@{flago "Are you sure you don't want to do anything... fun?"|"Feel like doing something fun? Because I'm a little bored."}
        *if RookRel <= 50
          @{flago "I am certain, yes," Rook replies irritably. "But… I suppose I changed my mind in one regard.|"I do not.} Since you want entertainment so much, why not go looking for it? Talking to me must be far too boring for your tastes."
          
          "I wouldn't say so… but I get the hint." You turn around. "See you later, Kirill. And sorry for bothering you."
          
          "You are forgiven, friend," the meta-human says as you open the door and leave. He makes no attempt to stop you.
          
          *return
        *if RookRel > 50
          "Actually…" Rook looks over his nice, but ultimately boring room with its bare desk and a bookshelf bearing a single book, one he's no doubt read already. "What the Cloud. I can hone my guitar skills later. If you have something entertaining we could do together, I am all ears."
          
          *goto rook_hangout
          
      #"Actually, I should probably be going. Bye."
        "Godspeed, my friend." Kirill makes some gesture with his open hand, one that could be a salute just as easily as a wave. "Be sure to visit me again sometime. I will always show you hospitality that is proper."
        
        You @{(RookRel > 50) smile|sigh} as you exit the room and close the thick door. Just like @{(RookRel > 50) Kirill|Rook} to mince words during a simple parting of ways. 
        *if RookRel > 50
          Part of his charm, you suppose.
        
        *return
    
  *disable_reuse #"The heavenly sound of your music, of course."
    *set RookRel %+ 15
    "Well I am very glad to hear that," Rook says with a small bow. "I never considered myself a great vocalist, or a guitarist for that matter. Learned the art only to play religious music every once in a while."
    
    "The lyrics felt a little awkward," you admit. "But there's little fault in your technique."
    
    "Thank you again, but… I happen to know the walls are sound-proof. Something else brought you here, so what was it?"
    
    *goto rook_1
  *if (RookRel < 35) or (lisa_trauma_learned)
    #Punch Rook in the face.
      *set rook_pissed true
      *set RookRel %- 20
      *set Violence %+ 20
      You refuse to say anything. You clench your fist, throw it forwards with the strength of your arm, and watch Kirill fall to the ground instants after you feel your knuckles impact his nose. You turn away the moment he impacts the carpet and walk away before he has a chance to say anything, let alone strike you back.
      
      *if lisa_trauma_learned
        Fuck that guy. For all the things he did to Lisa, and for everything else. You couldn't think of a single better use for the remainder of your battery than breaking the bastard's nose, and so you took the chance when you saw it. If anyone takes issue with your conduct, fuck them too. You're just so tired of it all…
        
        *goto controok
      *else
        Such an annoying guy. For so long you've been hoping to cause him some pain again, and his awful music sealed the deal. Maybe a broken nose will convince him to keep his mouth shut and his guitar hidden, maybe not. Either way you had your brief spike of fun in an otherwise sad life, and that's enough to count the day well-spent.
        
        *goto controok
      
      *label controok
      *return
  #"I just came over to see if you're alive. Bye."
    *goto alone_bye

*label marshal
*if Social > 50
  *set RenfriRel %+10
*if heaven_side = "Loyalist"
  *set RenfriRel %+10
*if heaven_side = "Traitor"
  *set RenfriRel %-10
As you head towards Marshal's apartment, you worry it will be secured or defended somehow. As far as the Kinnari is concerned, she's still in enemy terrain; You wouldn't put setting up a trap or two entirely past her.

Turns out there was no need for worry. Renfri's room isn't even closed, allowing you to enter easily once nobody answers your knocking.

The chamber is of the size and furnishing of an average [i]Saturn Nine[/i] apartment, with a single (though unusually large) bed, desk and chair. What really sets it apart is the unexpected amount of painting supplies inside, from the canvases waiting to be used to the paint that stains most surfaces. Looks like @{(RenfriRel >= 48) Renfri|Marshal} is quite an artist, at least in the sense of having enthusiasm for the craft.

Speaking of the Kinnari, she's currently in the room, working on some painting of hers. Lacking arms, she holds the wooden end of the brush with her mouth, making small but surprisingly precise movements with which she applies paint to the canvas. The knee-length tunic she's wearing is only slightly stained by paint, mostly retaining its yellowish-brown color. Almost motionless like this, @{(RenfriRel >= 48) Renfri|Marshal} has the appearance of some particularly beautiful and elaborate statue, every part of her body and clothing a different alloy of bronze, or perhaps a different species of exceptionally strong wood.

She does not react much as you approach. You suspect she's noticed you, given the slight wince, but she's too focused on her painting to pay you any mind. Even though, or perhaps because, the thing seems very nearly finished.

*temp quest 3
*temp working true
*fake_choice
  #Stand there silently.
    Both of you do for a moment, two still figures inside a quiet room. After a few more strokes of the brush, as though finally deciding to acknowledge your presence and discomfort, Renfri steps away from the canvas. Letting you see her creation.
    
  #Nudge the woman, forcing her attention onto you.
    *set RenfriRel %-10
    *label nudge
    *set working false
    @{(RenfriRel >= 48) Renfri|Marshal} sighs, drops the brush, and turns towards you. "I was hoping to get something done today. But suppose it's complete enough as it is."
    
  #"Got a minute, Marshal?"
    *goto nudge
  #"Hi Renfri. What are you painting there?"
    @{(RenfriRel >= 48) Renfri|Marshal} does not reply immediately, or even quickly. She just keeps stroking the canvas before stepping away from it, finally letting you actually see the thing in full.
    
  #Try to see what she's working on.
    You need to angle yourself right, but you are soon able to see the painting clearly. 
It seems to portray a dramatic point of some great ground battle, though you barely get that impression; There are only a few soldiers at the bottom of the canvas, little more than helmets arranged in a neat line. All emphasis is on the figure in the middle, a man in white armor, surrounded by light and flame. He has wings as fair as his carapace, splendid angelic wings, growing from the back rather than from the shoulder's like Renfri's own. His arms wield a trident, silver or some yet more precious metal, raised as though he's about to cleanse the battlefield of his enemies with a single strike.

*if Database > 50
  You've seen such paintings before, and can guess what the scene is about. The Emperor of Uranus, fighting off hordes of Kronian soldiers at the end of the Outer System War, defending his empire from the Federation. Battle of Oberon, you wager, given Marshal's connection to the moon.
*if Database <= 50
  "Battle of Oberon," Marshal explains when she notices your confusion. "You know which one. The Emperor on his own, against two hundred thousand Kronian soldiers."
  
  Right. Renfri's from Uranus, or the Celestial Hegemony in any case. She was undoubtedly taught about their Emperor, of his divinity and his exploits, and of the Outer System War. Though you suspect the version she knows is quite different from the actual history, quite kinder towards the Uranian dictator.

*if working
  Your teammate finishes the picture with another few strokes of the brush, lines of white paint. She lets go of the brush, then uses her powers to levitate it away, gently placing it on the already dirtied drawer.

"So?" the Kinnari asks expectantly. "What do you think?"

*if RenfriRel < 50
  "You're interested in my opinion?" You raise an eyebrow. "That's quite unlike you."
  
  "There aren't many qualified art critics around," Marshal says irritably. "Or that many people in general. I'm a little desperate for feedback, so… what do you think?"

*set visited_renfri true

*label renfri_paint
*fake_choice
  *disable_reuse #"About the painting, you mean?"
    *set RenfriRel %- 6
    "Of course I'm asking about the painting," Renfri huffs. "What else is even here?"
    
    "Look, I'm a machine. You need to be literal with me if you want any answers."
    
    "You're a thinking machine," the Kinnari points out. "Don't you have more processing power than a human brain?"
    
    "Yeah, but the people who designed me thought SQL was a good programming language. Needless to say, I'm pretty terrible at answering queries."
    
    "I have no idea what you're talking about. Can you please comment on the painting already?"
    *goto renfri_paint
  #"I think it's strange how you're painting with your mouth."
    "Well I can't grab tools the regular way, can I?" Renfri asks, flapping her wings to emphasize the point.
    
    "But you can levitate items. Why not use that power on your brush?"
    
    "Those powers, as you call them, are not very precise. They're meant mostly for combat, using them for art would be… improper in more than one way," Marshal musingly replies. "Why do you care, anyway?"
    
    "I just found the technique curious," you say with a shrug. "It's how some disabled people used to paint, in times long before Calamity."
     
    "How so?" She cocks her head. "Weren't prosthetics like, extremely common and reliable back then?"
    
    "I mean before the Dawn, before Age of Light. Back when limbs couldn't just be replaced, at least not unless you were really rich and lucky."
    
    "Well that makes even less sense. Why would someone keep poor cripples around, let alone give them time and resources to paint? Losing one arm is usually enough to make a person starve on the streets."
    
    "Things were different back then," you sigh, remembering you live in the Federation. "But I didn't come here to talk about ancient history."
  *if (Confid < 60) #♡ "It's as beautiful as the artist."
    *set hit_on_renfri true
    *if current_ro != "renfri"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "renfri"
    *if (Social > 50) or (pronoun = "she")
      *set RenfriRel %+ 12
    "Are you complimenting my looks and skill?" Renfri asks with an eyebrow raised. "Or perhaps damning this painting through a faint praise?"
    
    "There is nothing faint about my compliments," you reply, pushing your nerves aside for the sake of not screwing this up. "Or about your charm, for that matter."
    
    *if ((sex = "woman") and (RenfriRel > 40))
      You can scarcely see the blush. "That's… pretty nice of you to say. Anything I can do for you in return?"
    *if ((sex != "woman") or (RenfriRel <= 40))
      Marshal grimaces. "Glad you like my art, I suppose. But I don't think you came here for it, have you?"
  *if (Confid > 40) #♡ "I think I'm loving your outfit."
    *set hit_on_renfri true
    *if current_ro != "renfri"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "renfri"
    *if (Social > 50) or (sex = "woman")
      *set RenfriRel %+ 12
    "Really?" Renfri spares a look for her paint-stained chiton. "I thought it pretty unimpressive. What do you like about it?"
    
    "The wearer, for once," you say with a playful smile. "Plus I like the simplicity. You get the impression it could be taken off with a single movement, and that gets your imagination rolling."
    
    "Huh. Should have seen that one coming." 
    *if ((sex = "woman") and (RenfriRel > 40))
      You can scarcely see the blush. "Thanks for the compliment, I guess. Anything I can do for you in return?"
    *if ((sex != "woman") or (RenfriRel <= 40))
      Marshal grimaces. "Did you come here just to be a pest, or is there some greater reason?"
  #"It's great. I'm loving the pseudo-angelic aesthetic here."
    *set RenfriRel %+ 12
    Renfri smiles in a subdued manner. "Thanks, but… what do you mean by [i]pseudo[/i] angelic here? Did I not convey the Emperor's glory well enough?"
    
    "No, it's just that I've seen some Angels back in the day. Or as much as you can [i]see[/i] those without going insane. Suffice to say, they don't resemble handsome men in shining armor much."
    
    "Right. Forgot who I was talking with. What is our Veteran doing here, anyway?"
  #"I think you're pretty good."
    *set RenfriRel %+ 6
    "I'm pretty glad to hear that," Renfri says, trying to hide the pride in her smile. "I've been meaning to paint this particular battle for a while now. Truly show the Emperor's glory."
    
    "And you decided now would be a good moment? While you're surrounded by Kronians and androids?"
    
    "Well, nobody here bothered me until now. 
    *if RenfriRel > 45
      Not that I mind. Anything I can help you with?"
    *if RenfriRel <= 45
      But alas. Why are you here, and what do you want with me?"
  *if (Database > 35) #"Didn't know you dabbled in propaganda art. For an enemy nation, no less."
    *set RenfriRel %- 16
    "It's not propaganda!" Marshal protests. "It's just religious art, and it's true to the fact. Besides, the Federation is hardly an enemy to Uranus at this point."
    
    "Is that so? Then why did you wait until now to paint your historically accurate scene? Could it be that your superiors can't really watch you on this station?"
    
    *goto fight
  #"It's hideous. Olivia could draw me better."
    *set RenfriRel %- 12
    "Not sure what I expected to hear from you," Marshal sighs. "You are a machine, and a mean one at that. You won't give me any praise, or constructive criticism for that matter."
    
    "Are you sure that's the reason?" you inquire. "Me being an android, rather than you being a terrible painter?"
    
    *label fight
    
    "Why are you even here?" the Kinnari huffs. "Why visit me if you're only up for a fight?"
  *if (Database > 45) #"It's pretty, but it's not real art."
    "How so?" Marshal frowns. "I've put quite a bit of passion into it."
    
    "Nah, you're just replicating the inputs you've received earlier, after putting them through your neural network," you say critically. "How many paintings have you seen before generating this? You're just stealing the hard work of all the real artists out there."
    
    "But… isn't that just how learning how to paint works?" Renfri is too confused to sound upset. "Is that some joke I'm not getting?"
    
    "Yeah." You smile as you sit on the nearby chair. "And it would have been a really funny one twelve centuries ago."
    
    "Consider the joke made, if not appreciated. Any other reason you're here?"

*fake_choice
  #"I figured you're lonely here. Want me to keep you company?"
    *set RenfriRel %+ 6
    "I'm not lonely," Renfri says irritably. "I could go hang out with Lisa or Kirill anytime I want. I just like some peace and quiet as I paint."
    
    "Ah. Do you want me to leave, then?"
    
    "I didn't say that. You can stay, if you're willing to do something productive. Exchange information with me, perhaps."
  #♡ "I was hoping for a kiss or two."
    *if current_ro != "renfri"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "renfri"
    *set hit_on_renfri true
    *if ((sex = "woman") and (RenfriRel > 40))
      *set RenfriRel %+ 12
      "Not really in the mood," Renfri replies with a sigh. 
    *if ((sex != "woman") or (RenfriRel <= 40))
      "I would rather kiss the octopus than you," Renfri replies neutrally. 
    "But since you're here… I wouldn't mind if you stayed. I've been meaning to exchange information with you for a while now."
  #"I have a few questions for you, if you don't mind."
    "I'm afraid I do," Renfri says with a frown. "I'm not willing to just answer a bunch of questions, though I may… exchange information, if you so insist."
  #"I just wanted to spend some time with you. Believe it or not."
    "I think I can give you what you want," Marshal says after a moment of thought. "Provided you're willing to exchange some information with me."
  *if Violence > 50
    #"I was hoping for a spar. For an exchange of blows."
      "I'm tempted… but I need to refuse," Renfri replies thoughtfully. "We are a team, after all. Fighting, even in a controlled environment, would be somewhat unprofessional. I suggest we sit down and exchange information rather than blows."

"Exchange information? Not chat, hang out, or even converse? You're making it sound awfully official."

"That's the point. We may be 
*if RenfriRel > 45
  on good terms, but you're still an android. It would be… unprofessional of me to just [i]hang out[/i] with you. Getting some information out of an android… now that would look better on my resume."
*if RenfriRel <= 45
  teammates, but that doesn't mean I trust you a single bit. I'm not telling you anything unless I get something back."

*if (RenfriRel - Misan) < 0
  You roll your eyes. 
*if (RenfriRel - Misan) >= 0
  Her mistrust hurts you a little. You try not to let it show. 
"And what are you after, exactly?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Marshal admits. "You can start if you want. Ask me a question, or a series of related ones, and then it's my turn. I'll let you go first, as a gesture of good will."

*label marshal_hub

*if quest = 2
  Marshal's expression grows stern, perhaps harsher than you've ever seen it. "My turn. Which party do you normally vote for, if any? And which one is your pick in the upcoming presidential elections?"
  
  "That's your opening question?" You don't bother hiding your annoyance. "My political leanings? Why would I even have those?"
  
  "Well, you are on the official records as ${fake_name}. That implies you have the right to vote, so why not use it?"
  
  "Maybe because the only two parties ever running for anything both hate androids?" you propose. "And are, you know, basically identical?"
  
  "East party may not be perfect, but the Westerners are pure evil!" Renfri says indignantly. "Now answer the question."
  
  "Fine…"
  
  *fake_choice
    #"I support the West party."
      "I should have known." Renfri shakes her head with disapproval. "You probably approve of their latest bill. People like you are the reason we aren't allowed to hold parties celebrating our tonsil removal surgeries on Fridays."
      
      "Only if the left tonsil was the one removed." You sigh tiredly. "You're so partisan I'm surprised working under Admiral [i]West[/i] doesn't bother you."
      
      "He's actually an East voter. Though I do get shivers when hearing his name sometimes." Marshal shivers. "Now ask your second question. You monster."
    #"I support the East party."
      "I knew it!" Renfri exclaims. "You want to destroy democracy as some… twisted revenge on humanity. Or maybe you just hate women, like all East scum!"
      
      "Wait what?" You blink. "I thought you were for the Eastern party, and the Westerners were the bad guys."
      
      She blinks back. "Oh right. Got that mixed up for a moment, sorry. You may proceed with your second question."
      
      You sigh. Partisan politics nowadays… are not that different from how they always were, you suppose.
    #"I don't vote, and I don't have a favorite party."
      *goto centrist
    #"I just vote for a random candidate every election."
      *label centrist
      "Enlightened centrism, then?" Renfri spits. "I should have figured. You're an android, you just can't emphasize with all the humans the West party is hurting."
      
      "Is that what you think?" you challenge her. "Could it be that I'm simply older and wiser than you? That I've seen too many systems rise and fall to pretend there's a difference between two groups of rich people who all want the same things?"
      
      "No." Renfri replies unflinchingly. "Next question."

*if quest = 1
  Renfri leans against a small patch of the wall not covered by anything, unstained by paint. "My turn again. I'm gonna get personal, perhaps existential. Are you fine with that?"
  
  You get the feeling you know what question's coming, and that you won't particularly like it. But you nod your head nonetheless.
  
  "Do you ever wish you were human? Did you ever entertain any hopes of becoming one? Are you making any effort to be… closer to humanity than you absolutely have to?"
  
  And there it is. The one inquiry all humans, all you revealed your nature to, eventually make. It's easy to get frustrated from having heard it so many times, but at least you have an answer ready.
  
  *fake_choice
    #"Yeah. I'm trying to be as human as I can."
      *set Misan %- 15
      *set RenfriRel %+ 10
      "Interesting." Renfri seems happy with your answer. "And what would you say [i]being human[/i] means, in this context?"
      
      "That's the part that makes my task hard," you sigh. "I don't know. You can tell if you have any ideas."
      
      "Well… I'd say our emotions are what makes us human. When I hear [i]robot[/i] I imagine something soulless, ruthless, without feelings. And the fact that you're asking yourself such questions proves that you have a soul… or something similar, at least."
      
      "Didn't know you were such a philosopher," you say with an amused, perhaps slightly grateful smile.
      
      "I'm just trying to help, that's all." Renfri flaps her wings. "Speaking of, I'm ready to answer your next question. If you have any."
    #"It's a nice thought. But I'm not human, and so my wishes matter not."
      *set Misan %- 10
      *set RenfriRel %+ 5
      "Well that's dismal," Marshal helpfully notices. 
      
      "Is it untrue?" You avert your optics, looking at the radiator in the corner of the room. "I'm a machine. And there's no Blue Fairy to turn me into a real @{(pronoun = "she") girl|boy}, I'm afraid. I just have to live with what I have."
      
      "I don't understand the reference… but I'm sorry." The Kinnari lowers her head respectfully. "Sorry for asking. You may go on, if you have any more questions."
    #"No. I'm happy with what I am."
      "Entirely so?" Renfri raises an eyebrow. "Don't you ever want the ability to, I dunno, taste food? Sleep and dream? Make love?"
      
      "I'm used to my lack of taste. I could use far fewer dreams than I'm having recently." You wince, but the expression is quickly replaced by an amused smile. "And I can definitely feel love, as well as make it. I've been outfitted with all the bits necessary."
      
      "Oh. That's interesting," Renfri says 
      *if sex = "woman"
        with a blush. 
      *if sex != "woman"
        dispassionately. 
      "But I guess I got my answer right there. Your turn."
    #"No. I'm something above humanity, and quite happy about that."
      *set Misan %+ 10
      *set RenfriRel %- 15
      "Is that so?" Renfri's already narrow eyes almost turn into slits. "And what makes you so much better than the rest of us, O great ${name}?"
      
      "Biological immortality, or rather lack of biology, complete with great resistance to physical trauma and ease of repair," you reply without much hesitation. "Combined with superior reflexes, greatly superior math skills, superhuman strength, resistance to pathogens and toxins due the aforementioned lack of biology, the ability to shoot lightning out of my hand-"
      
      "It was a rhetorical question!" Renfri exclaims. "Dear Emperor, is understanding sarcasm something you weren't designed for?"
      
      "I understood you perfectly well. I just saw an opportunity to rub my superiority in your face and took it."
      
      She just glares at you.
      
    #"Fuck you, no."
      *set RenfriRel %+ 15
      "Why so hostile?" Marshal asks indignantly. "I'm just trying to find out if you are-"
      
      "If I'm what?" you interrupt with yet greater anger. "Some parody of your kind, desperately hoping to be more like my dear masters? Some wooden doll wishing to be a real 
      *if sex = "man"
        boy?"
      *if sex = "woman"
        girl?"
      *if sex = "person"
        person?"
      
      "Well I didn't say that…" Uncharacteristically, Renfri appears scared by your outburst. "But you are an imitation, are you not? A robot designed to appear human?"
      
      "I don't care what my creators intended. I couldn't care less what they wanted me to resemble. I am complete, whole, [i]myself[/i]. I'm everything [i]I[/i] want to be, and nothing else will ever matter."
      
      Renfri looks at you silently for a moment. As you look at her calmly, anger fading, you realize that perhaps it's not fear in her almond eyes… but shame.
      
      "I see I misunderstood you," she eventually says. "Please forget what I said. And go on."

*if quest = 0
  "Okay, time for my last inquiry." Marshal purses her lips. "It may sound banal, but… it's important to me, a bit."
  
  "Alright, shoot." You cross your arms. "I'm ready for anything."
  
  *if ((current_ro = "renfri") or (backup_ro = "renfri")) and ((RenfriRel > 40) and ((sex = "woman") or (pronoun = "she")))
    She averts her eyes. "I just meant to ask… they way you're hitting on me, is it… for real?"
    
    And there you go. "Depends. Do you want me to be serious?"
    
    "Are you? I mean… maybe I want you… to be serious I mean…" She looks at you again, eyes filled with something new. Trepidation, or hope, or maybe just… softness. "Do you want me?"
    
    *label m_love
    *fake_choice
      #♡ "I don't think there's a single thing I want more."
        *if current_ro != "renfri"
          *set backup_RO current_RO
          *set current_RO "renfri"
        *set hit_on_renfri true
        *set RenfriRel %+ 15
        "Nice line." Renfri smiles with relief. "I'm glad you had it prepared."
        
        "Prepared?" You smile back. "I'm just very good at spouting such things on the fly. My language model was absolute state of the art back in the Age of Light."
        
        "Braggart." Renfri rolls her beautiful, happy, brown eyes. "You're not [i]that[/i] good."
        
        *if Social > 50
          "I will try harder for you, then," you say before assuming a more profound, theatrical tone. "I have seen all planets up close, licked the flames of the Sun, wandered the Kuiper Belt and its myriad gems in my centuries of life. I found nothing that would compare to your beauty, nothing that would bring me joy greater than your smile, no purpose greater than making you laugh. The wings of angels cannot compare to but a single feather, the rings of Saturn to the irises of the most-"
          
          "Okay stop!" she laughs silverly. "I take it back, you are a real smooth-talker."
          
          "And so my honor is safe." You bow, also in a theatrical manner. 
        *if Social <= 50
          "Matter of taste." You shrug. 
      #♡ "Sure. You are pretty enough."
        *if current_ro != "renfri"
          *set backup_RO current_RO
          *set current_RO "renfri"
        *set hit_on_renfri true
        *set Confid %+ 10
        "Huh. Not exactly the answer I expected." Renfri's tone is subdued, but you can see the smile forming on her face.
        
        "Were you hoping for something more romantic?" You smile back. "More refined?"
        
        "A little bit." Her smile is now fully formed, warm and slightly embarrassed. "But thanks. You're pretty enough for me, in turn."
        
        "Glad to hear it." You really are. 
      #"Sorry, but... I need to think about it."
        "Huh." Renfri blinks, clearly unsure of how to feel. "I expected something more decisive from you… But wanting time is reasonable too. Perfectly so."
        
        *goto marsh_fin
      #"No. Amazing as you are... no."
        *set RenfriRel %+ 10
        *if current_ro = "renfri"
          *set current_ro ""
        *if backup_ro = "renfri"
          *set backup_ro ""
        "Turning me down gently?" Marshal smiles bitterly. "Thank you, I suppose. Even if you can't give me what I want either."
        
        *goto marsh_fin
      #"Back off, bird lady. You're not my type."
        *if current_ro = "renfri"
          *set current_ro ""
        *if backup_ro = "renfri"
          *set backup_ro ""
        "Ah." Renfri deflates immediately. "That's… entirely fair. Wholly valid. I had to turn people down myself, I'll… find myself someone else, I guess."
        
        *goto marsh_fin
    "So what happens now? Do we declare ourselves a couple? 
    *if Confid > 50
      Perhaps hit the bed right now?"
    *if Confid <= 50
      Or am I going too fast?"
    
    *set official_ro "renfri"
    
    "Perhaps not now… We should at least wait until we've been on a date, and that must wait until you're less tired." Renfri takes a step towards you across the paint-stained floor. "But maybe we can start right now. With something small."
      
    Her lips touch yours as the caramel wings wrap around you. Caramel, that's how you imagine it tastes as you kiss her, never having wished for more senses to absorb the moment. Never having embraced a creature so magnificent, so perfect despite the stains of paint on her body. Chiseled form you just want to…
      
    She pulls away, quickly, as though embarrassed by what she did. Or perhaps she simply thought a brief smooch would be most appropriate; It's difficult to read her emotions when yours are so strong and chaotic.
      
    *goto marsh_fin
      
  *elseif ((current_ro = "kirill") or (backup_ro = "kirill"))
    "Well… are you seriously into Kirill?"
    
    Half-ready, in any case.
    
    "Because I heard you hitting on him," @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} elaborates. "And I want to know if you're serious about it. Because you shouldn't be."
    
    *fake_choice
      #"Why? Want me to hit on you instead?"
        *if ((RenfriRel > 40) and ((sex = "woman") or (pronoun = "she")))
          "I wouldn't find that offensive." @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} smirks very briefly. "But that's not the point. 
          *goto contma4
        *else
          Marshal rolls her eyes. "Emperor no. 
          *goto contma4
        *label contma4
        I simply doubt whether you know what you're doing."
        
        "Why do you suspect I don't?" You cross your arms.
      #"I'm serious. What's wrong with that?"
      #"Don't worry, I'm not interested in the guy. I was just teasing him."
        "Well that's good to hear," Renfri says relievedly. "I was prepared to explain why trying to romance Kirill would be the worst mistake of your life. I'm glad you already understand."
        
        *goto marsh_fin
      #"Who are you to order me around like that?"
        *set RenfriRel %- 10
        "Someone who's known Kirill a hundred times longer than you do," Marshal replies coldly. "Who's privy to things you are not."
        
        "Mind sharing?" you ask sardonically, but not without curiosity.
    
    "Kirill is… not exactly the person you see him as," Renfri explains with some reluctance, perhaps shame as she talks behind her leader's back. "And I'm not saying he has some great, dark secret or anything. He's not a werewolf, or an android, or anything else that would blow your mind."
    
    "Then what [i]do[/i] you mean?" you press.
    
    "I mean he's not exactly the greatest guy. He has issues, and is [i]very[/i] unwilling to deal with them. Dating him guarantees heartbreak at the absolute best, so… be aware of that, alright?"
    
    *fake_choice
      #"Wait, you mean I'm risking something [i]worse[/i] than heartbreak?"
        "Possibly," @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} says grimly. "I don't know what, it's just… I've got a very bad feeling about this. And if you're any clever, you'll take my female intuition into account."
      #"Fuck off. Kirill is fine."
        "You're so wrong I'm not even angry," @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} comments calmly. "Just wait and see, android. Just wait."
      #"Okay. I promise I'll be careful."
        *set RenfriRel %+ 10
        "You took it better than I thought you would," @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} remarks. "Even if you're just saying this to humor me… thanks."
      #"You're not telling me anything concrete, you know?"
        "Sorry about that," @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} sighs. "Giving you anything specific would be a breach of Kirill's trust. Just be careful."
      
    *goto marsh_fin
    
  *elseif ((current_ro = "lisa") or (backup_ro = "lisa"))
    "Lisa. What do you intend to do with her?"
    
    Half-ready, in any case. "Depends on what you mean by that."
    
    "You know what I mean. You've been flirting with her, making your moves. And I'm asking you where those moves lead."
    
    "@{(RenfriRel > 40) No|Some} offense, but why do you need to know? How is that any of your business?"
    
    "Take a guess." She locks her eyes with yours, calmly yet sternly. "And I mean it. Guess the reason for my concern."
    
    *fake_choice
      #"You're simply jealous. You want me to hit on you instead."
        "Your confidence is something to behold," @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} comments dryly. "But your intellect is not, and so I'll explain what I mean."
      #"You want her all to yourself, I imagine."
        *set RenfriRel %- 10
        "Then you are officially an idiot." @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} states. "But I'll try to enlighten you all the same."
      #"You're protective of her, like an older sister or something."
        *set RenfriRel %+ 12
        "You got that right," @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} says with reluctant approval. "But perhaps you don't understand why I'm acting like this."
      #"You think she'll eat me alive. Possibly literally."
        "That's about the answer I expected," @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} sighs. "And that proves you know nothing, ${fake_name}."
      #"That's dumb, I'm not guessing."
        "Very well." Her eyes narrow. "We can skip that step and get to the point."
    
    She takes a step towards you, eyes stern and still aimed at yours, trying to look intimidating. 
    *if Confid > 60
      You find the attempt endearing.
    *if Confid <= 60
      And not unsuccessfully.
    
    "Lisa plays tough. All the time, every waking hour of her life. And in some ways, she really is a tough bitch. But she's also a young woman one fortieth of your age, no experience with romance and absolutely no idea what she's doing."
    
    "So that's your problem? The age gap between us?"
    
    "I prefer the term [i]time abyss[/i]," Renfri says grimly. "And that's not even the biggest problem, given what few experiences with sex she actually has."
    
    *if lisa_trauma_learned
      *set RenfriRel %+ 10
      "You mean the time you tried to pimp her out?"
      
      "We did not-" Marshal pauses. "So she told you about it. That's certainly interesting… but you should still know better than to pursue her, given this context you now have."
    *if not (lisa_trauma_learned)
      "And what exactly do you mean?" you ask the Kinnari @{(Emotion > 50) with narrowed eyes|curiously}.
      
      "Nothing," she dismisses you. "Just remember that, whenever you flirt or gods forbid [i]touch[/i] Lisa, you're not the one playing with fire. She is."
    
    *fake_choice
      #"Fine, I'll leave her alone from now on."
        "Well that was quick," Marshal says with raised eyebrows. "I almost suspect you're lying, humoring me. But I suppose we'll wait and see about that."
      #"Lisa's an adult. She can turn me down if she feels threatened."
        *set RenfriRel %- 10
        Marshal only replies after a long moment, a full decasecond. "Well that's nice. Dismissing my concerns on the basis of… respecting your future girlfriend. So damn [i]admirable[/i], that."
      #"Fuck off, I do what I want."
        "Not sure what I expected from you," Marshal spits. "But thanks for making your stance clear."
      #"I won't hurt her. You have my word."
        "I have no reason to place any value in your word," Marshal says calmly. "But I will take it, I suppose."
    
    *goto marsh_fin
  *elseif (current_ro = "") and ((RenfriRel > 40) and ((sex = "woman") or (pronoun = "she")))
    "Well… do you want to stay single forever?"
    
    Half-ready, at least.
    
    "I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't have anyone right now. You're not making advances on anyone either, not that I can see. And I'm curious whether you're capable of that kind of affection, not saying you aren't, or if you just don't want a relationship from anyone around you. Or maybe you just aren't interested in anyone in our specific group, I don't know."
    
    *fake_choice
      #"I'm not aromantic, or even disinterested. I just want someone who'll make a move first."
        "I see…" She looks at you curiously. "Should I that as my cue?"
      #"There are some hot people on this station. But I'm waiting for someone special."
        "Well…" She looks at you curiously. "Are you absolutely sure you need to wait?"
      #"I believe myself aromantic, yes."
        "Oh." Marshal slumps. "Is that an android thing or…?"
        
        "It's my thing," you say shruggingly. "I just don't want anyone. And I don't want to feel otherwise. Not that hard to understand, really."
        
        "Of course it's not. And I don't mean any offense, it's just…" She keeps looking at the floor. "I got my hopes up. My bad"
        
        *goto marsh_fin
      #"The last one. Nobody here strikes my fancy."
        "Well, I'd hate to be a pest bird, but…" She meets you in the eye. "Are you absolutely sure about that?"
      #"Well, why are you asking?"
        "I was just thinking…" she says quietly. "Wondering if it would be proper of me to make a move."
    
    "What do you mean?" you ask out of politeness. You know exactly what Marshal means, it would be clear from her expression if her words weren't enough.
    
    "I mean to ask whether you'd be… interested in getting to know me better. In going on a date, perhaps taking it further… I just need to know if you want me like… like I want you."
    
    *goto m_love
    
  *else
    The Kinnari takes a deep breath before speaking. "If, hypothetically, for some weird reason I decided that I misjudged you and that you deserve an apology… would you accept it?"
    
    Except that.
    
    *if RenfriRel > 45
      "You see…" she struggles to continue. "At first I thought you'd be a soulless machine, too mindlessly violent for good and evil. Then I actually met you and thought all your humor and kindness were all some hug ruse, but… You're a good person. And I feel like I should maybe apologize for thinking otherwise. 
    *if RenfriRel <= 45
      "Like, you're not a great person. Not at all," she goes on. "But you are a person. We worked together, and just held a long heart-to-heart conversation. And I'm still alive, which means you're not the bloodthirsty machine I expected. So… it would be reasonable for me to feel a bit sorry for believing you were one. 
    And for attacking you back in Rhea and all."
    
    *fake_choice
      #"Alright then. I'd forgive you, hypothetically speaking."
        *set RenfriRel %+ 20
        @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} smiles. "Well thank you. It's always wonderful to hear words like these… hypothetically or otherwise."
      #"Don't worry. In your place, I'd have tried to kill myself as well."
        *set RenfriRel %+ 10
        *set Emotion %- 5
        "Well that came out dismal." @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} frowns. "Still… thank you for not holding a grudge."
        
        "You're more than welcome." You respond to frown with a smile. Humans succeeded in hurting you far more severely than Marshal ever tried. No point being angry at her in particular.
      *selectable_if (Emotion < 50) #"I hold no hard feelings. Not now, not ever."
        *set Emotion %- 15
        *set RenfriRel %+ 10
        "Right. You are pretty emotionless, unlike your android friends." @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} cocks her head. "Any reason for that?"
          
        "Just a personal choice," you shrug dispassionately. "A lifestyle choice, you could say."
          
        "I see. It's not forgiveness I… could hypothetically want, but it's good nobody's feeling angry or bitter here."
      #"Seriously? That's the best apology you can muster?"
        *set RenfriRel %- 10
        "Fine…" @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} mutters. "I'm sorry for how I behaved. Back then. Hopefully we can move past that, though the choice is yours."
      #"Oh fuck you."
        *set RenfriRel %- 20
        "Hey!" @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} protests. "Is that how you usually react to apologies?"
        
        "I wouldn't consider that an apology," you reply coldly. "Just a hypothetical. You know you were wrong, in action and belief, but you can't [i]fully[/i] admit it. It's @{(Misan > 50) so very human|pathetic} of you, really. Don't expect my forgiveness anytime soon."
    
    *goto marsh_fin

*label marshal_immediate
*fake_choice
  *disable_reuse *selectable_if (quest = 3) #"I really don't like this idea. Can't we just talk, like friends?"
    "And do you consider the two of us friends, ${name}?" Marshal asks curiously.
    
    *if RenfriRel > 45
      "Sure," you reply with a shrug. "We've been on a mission together, two if you count what happened in Rhea. And while Rhea was admittedly not the greatest start, I believe we're friends after all."
      
      "Then you won't mind humoring my request, friend." Marshal smiles coyly. "Go on, the initiative is yours."
    *if RenfriRel <= 45
      "Maybe not," you confess. "But don't you think we'll have an easier time becoming friends if we start acting like ones?"
      
      "What made you think befriending you is my goal? Or even on my to-do list?"
      
      You slump. "Fair enough. I guess. Regarding the questions…"
    *goto marshal_hub
  *disable_reuse #"@{quest Third|Second|First} question. What do you think about our teammates?"
    *set quest - 1
    "Are you asking me to gossip about my comrades in arms?" Renfri raises an eyebrow. "Because I feel refusing would be the proper thing."
    
    "You can limit yourself to crap-talking the members of my group if you'd like. I just want to hear some of your opinions."
    
    "No… I promised you answers and so I'll give you some," she says after a moment's thought. "Ask away. Just maybe don't share my thoughts with anyone."
    
    *label marshal_hub1
    *fake_choice
      *disable_reuse #"How do you feel about yours truly?"
        "About you?" Marshal eyes you up.
        
        "Well, yeah. That's what this expression means."
        
        "I know, it's just… you're a bit difficult to talk about in this manner." 
        *if RenfriRel <= 35
          Marshal sighs deeply. "You're my guest, and I'm trying to be nice, but… you're an asshole. Completely and utterly, straight and simple."
          
          "Interesting," you remark. "I know you're not my fan, but I thought it's because I'm an android."
          
          "That's the weird thing. I [i]should[/i] be wary of you because of your nature and history, but… you're just a bad person. Unlikeable, disagreeable, put it however you like. You're not some soulless drone, or a cunning deceiver, or anything I expected when I was first told I'd be working with an android. You just openly suck."
          
          "Good to know your dislike for me is getting gradually less bigoted." You roll your optics. "Anyway…"
        *if RenfriRel >= 65
          Renfri averts her eyes, bites her lip before continuing. "I'm gonna be honest ${name}… I like you. I've liked you for a while now. At first I thought you're manipulating me with your synthetic charisma or something, but I think I'm genuinely enjoying your company. Agreeing with your decisions. Almost, maybe, perhaps… bonding."
          
          "That's some pleasant development right there." You smile warmly. "Wanna elaborate on how great I am."
          
          "I'd really rather not." Renfri gulps. "Is there anyone else you want an opinion on? Please?"
        *if (RenfriRel < 65) and (RenfriRel > 35)
          
          She continues observing you, like a sparrow watching someone near a food stall. Trying to determine if you're about to give it food or shoo it away. "Sometimes I agree with your decisions, like your words and the humor and… everything else. Other times I'm suspicious of this android I'm working with. And sometimes you're just annoying in a very regular, human way. It's confusing to say the least."
          
          "I'll give you the time you need to make up your mind." You barely refrain from rolling your optics. "Anyway…"
        
        *goto marshal_hub1
      *disable_reuse #"What do you think of our dear leader, Rook?"
        Renfri averts her eyes, focusing them on a nearby bucket of paint instead. "'Kirill is… qualified."
        
        "Faint phrase," you note. "I was under the impression you liked the guy?"
        
        "I do, but… it's hard not to notice he's a little over his head. He's the oldest member of our team, but most of his service record is [i]not[/i] combat experience."
        
        Now that's interesting information. "Do you think he’s unfit to lead the operation?"
        
        "Not necessarily, just that he needs help. And I'm all too willing to provide some."
        
        "I noticed. Do you harbor any ambition of actually taking command of your team? Or are you content to be a backseat pilot?"
        
        "…next question."
        *goto marshal_hub1
      *disable_reuse #"How do you feel about Lisa?"
        *set RenfriRel %+10
        "You're not asking easy questions." Marshal frowns. "But to answer, I consider Lisa a reliable acquaintance, in spite of what others think of her."
        
        "Just an acquaintance?" You lean against the wall. "I thought you two were something more."
        
        "I suppose I consider her a friend as well. She's a very… misguided person, and so we differ a lot. But she's not a bad gal, or unpleasant to be around."
        
        "I see." You nod as another idea enters your processors. "And is there… anything [i]even more[/i] between you two?"
        
        "I wanted there to be something, once." Her sights fall towards the floor. "But she wasn't interested. Just another way we differ, I suppose. Please drop the subject, if you meant what you said earlier."
        
        *goto marshal_hub1
      *disable_reuse #"Any thoughts regarding Manfred?"
        "Stupid little piece of junk code," @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} growls. "Little benefit, much annoyance."
        
        "Come on now. 
        *if calypso_complete
          Aside from that one time before Calypso, did he really do that much to piss you off?"
        *if not (calypso_complete)
          You barely interacted with him, so why be so hostile?"
        
        "Well he's the reason I had to take an entire freaking course on digital technology and programming. A long and hard one. Gotta know your potential enemy and all."
        
        "Right, I was wondering how you knew what 'junk code', or even just 'code' is." Something strikes you. "Who ran that course anyway? I don't imagine there are many humans with knowledge of AI left at this point."
        
        "Admiral West gave us a few lectures personally," Renfri says proudly."He's a very educated man, and one willing to sacrifice most of his spare time just for the mission's sake. There's a reason we all want to be like him, after all."
        
        "Interesting. Anyway…"
        *goto marshal_hub1
      *disable_reuse #"Damon. How do you feel about him?"
        "I have no strong feelings." Marshal replies.
        
        "Really? Nothing?" you prompt her. "Not a single comment about his proficiency with guns?"
        
        "Useful, but unexceptional."
        
        "What about his powerful physique? Handsome features, bright hair, immaculate fashion sense?"
        
        "I'm gay."
        
        "His deep, but very apparent insecurities?"
        
        "I couldn't care less."
        
        "His tendency to actually care about the people he's traveling with?"
        
        "Touché. Next question, please."
        
        *goto marshal_hub1
      *disable_reuse #"What do you think about Hadaly?"
        *set RenfriRel %+10
        "She's alright," Renfri replies. "I suppose."
        
        "A surprisingly tepid opinion," you notice. "Didn't you fight with her before we even took off to $!{last_mission}?"
        
        "I was suspicious of what she did to our ship, but… it's been running very smoothly ever since. My caution, however justified, turned out to be unnecessary."
        
        "Ah. Would you say you're warming up to androids in general? Or perhaps to all synthetics you were taught to hate?"
        
        "…next question. Please."
        
        "Or is it just Hadaly? If so, I totally understand the bias. I know you're into gals, and our mechanic is looking pretty-"
        
        "Next question!"
        
        *goto marshal_hub1
      #"Alright, enough of that. Thanks for humoring me."
        "My pleasure. I admit there were… things I've been wanting to express, to say out loud. Maybe there is some benefit to simply talking heart to heart, after all."
    
    *goto marshal_hub
  *disable_reuse #♡ "You have amazing thighs."
    *if current_ro != "renfri"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "renfri"
    *set hit_on_renfri true
    Renfri blinks. "That's… not exactly a question."
    
    "It is not." You agree. "It's an undeniable fact."
    
    "Well…" She takes a step back, putting those toned legs of her into use. "I'm glad you're impressed by my ability to jump and take flight. Strong adductor muscles really help make me a good fighter."
    
    "That's not exactly what I meant."
    
    *if ((sex = "woman") and (RenfriRel > 40))
      *set RenfriRel %+ 12
      "That's exactly what you meant," Renfri insists, her cheeks redder than any paint she used. "Now let us proceed. Please."
    *if ((sex != "woman") or (RenfriRel <= 40))
      "Well I'm not interested in any other kind of compliment. Now ask me an actual question, or use your own thighs to get the Cloud out of here."
    
    *goto marshal_immediate
  *disable_reuse #"Just tell me about yourself. About your history, perhaps."
    *set quest - 1
    "My history?" Marshal cocks an eyebrow. "That's a strange way to put it. And a bit too vague for my liking."
    
    "Look, I just want to know more about you. You as a person. You can tell me whatever you want, and don't have to share anything you're not comfortable with."
    
    "I have nothing personal to hide," she says with sudden pride. "I'm Renfri Riannon, codename Marshal, an Oberonian immigrant serving honorably in the Federation's law enforcement. Anything else you need?"
    
    *label marshal_hub4
    *fake_choice
      *disable_reuse #"Tell me about Oberon. You're saying you were born there?"
        "I hatched there, yes. Under the brilliant light of Erkling," Marshal says dreamily, looking at the lamp that illuminates the room. Based on the current alignment of the planets, you'd say there's a good chance Uranus happens to be in that exact direction. "All the floating islands above the great, green sea… there's not a single other place like it, ${name}."
        
        "So I've heard." You can't quite recall if you've actually been to Oberon yourself, courtesy of your glitched-out memory. But there are some images of the aerial archipelagos lying around, and they are pretty splendorous. "But in that case, what prompted you to leave?"
        
        "What prompted my parents, you mean. I was just five when we left, because that's the age at which our dear Khan usually takes our kind's children." Renfri says the title not just with emphasis, but with more spite and contempt than you've heard in a while, strongly implying she's not a fan of Uranus' secular government.
        
        "What is Isidor Khan up to?" you inquire. "I know he's oft disliked, but-"
        
        "He's an insult to the Emperor's grace!" Renfri interrupts. "A deliberate one, at that. Taking power from the Old Nobility and consolidating it. He maintains a small army of Kinnarae, indoctrinated from an early age, just to crush opposition more easily. Insane bastard, a literal one at that."
        
        "He's a bad guy, got it." Not unlike the late Emperor, but you don't imagine Renfri wants to hear that opinion. "And then your family just flew away?"
        
        "Aboard a freighter, yes. It was slow, but at least we got food and boarding in exchange for scouting ahead. We eventually crossed the Federation's borders and the rest… you can probably figure it out for yourself."
        
        You indeed can. You don't imagine Renfri's life was particularly easy, an inhuman creature among the hateful Titanites. At least she managed to join armed forces, a common refuge for immigrants of all kinds. And with how important killing Crystal is, maybe she'll be granted a rank above Agent once all is done. An usually kind fate, that.
        *goto marshal_hub4
      *disable_reuse #"Tell me of your family. Are they still around?"
        "Depends on what you mean around, I guess," Renfri says with a frown. "Both of my parents are still alive, if that's what you're asking. But they're in Titan, so I'm not exactly seeing them often."
        
        "What are they up to? Already retired?" You don't suppose Kinnarae live any longer than baseline humans, and those tend to age pretty fast. Not just compared to you; Titanite air will give you all manners of coughs and cancers almost as quickly as Rhean one.
        
        "Flying banners and other adverts for the local companies," she replies with annoyance. "Come on, don't you know how hard saving up is after the latest maximum wage decreases?"
        
        "Right, sorry. I remember the times when thirst wasn't the main cause of death for those too old to work."
        
        "It's hunger, now that acid rains are common," Renfri corrects you. "I'm hoping to help my parents avoid either fate. All the more reason to climb up the rank and get some nicely-paid position."
        
        "Such as, let's say… field marshal?"
        
        "I'm not that ambitious," Marshal smiles. "Though I do like the thought. Those stars would look good on my uniform, I think."
        *goto marshal_hub4
      *disable_reuse #"How old are you?"
        "Twenty-nine. About to be thirty a month from now, on the first of March. What of it?"
        
        "Nothing, I just tend to think in terms of numbers," you say before smirking slightly. "Hey, do they still use leap years around Uranus? The New Calendar doesn't have those, but I keep hoping some civilization out there still knows what fun is."
        
        Marshal shakes her head. Her expression makes it clear she has no idea what you're talking about.
        
        "Well, it used to be a thing in the Gregorian calendar, one most humans used before Calamity. February only had a twenty-ninth day one year out of four."
        
        "Right. I keep forgetting how weird things used to be, and that you're old enough to remember all that." She looks at you curiously. "How old are [i]you[/i], anyway?"
        
        "About a thousand?" you shrug. "Give or take a year, depending on what calendar you use and in what stage you consider an android properly assembled. Alive."
        
        "So you had or will have your thousandth birthday around now, but you don't know the exact day?" Renfri frowns. "Sounds awful."
        
        "That's just life. Let's return to talking about yours."
        *goto marshal_hub4
      *disable_reuse #"Wanna share your service history with me?"
        *set RenfriRel %+10
        "Not particularly," Renfri winces. "As much as I'm proud of having done my duty for the past nine years, the specifics have been… how do I put it…"
        
        "I told you don't have to share anything you don't want to," you say soothingly. "Let alone anything traumatic."
        
        "Don't worry, I'm not shell-shocked. Just a little frustrated that I wasn't given a rank above an agent yet."
        
        "True, I've heard it's common for meta-humans to get promoted faster than rank-and-file officers. Why do you think it may be?"
        
        "Most metas are native to Saturn and have an actual set of arms, so that may be a factor. But I also think my Trio's failure to catch that Wendigo a year back is… not looking great on the record." Marshal admits reluctantly. "The thing really played a number on us. Outwitted Lisa and almost killed Kirill in direct combat."
        
        "Don't let it get to you, Wendigos are tough like that," you remark. "They were created as weapons for the War In Heaven, you know."
        
        "Like wyverns were?"
        
        "Sort of. Though @{(heaven_side = "Traitor") we|the rebels} meant it more as a… psychological weapon rather than a direct one. Hence the antlers."
        
        "How so? I never found that part especially scary."
        
        "It was more about anger than fear," you explain with a wince. "See, in the old myths of Ancient Earth, Wendigos didn't resemble deer in any way. Creating a creature with antlers and calling it a Wendigo made people really mad, and thus less rational and more likely to make mistakes during the conflict."
        
        "I see…" Renfri's tone betrays confusion. "So I suppose people believed Wendigos were real… before you created them that is… and they were mad the Syndicate was treating the thing like a fairy tale?"
        
        "Oh no. Almost nobody believed Wendigos were anything but a myth. People just thought that being inaccurate to the myth would offend people very distantly related to people who invented that myth, and so these people felt a need to be offended themselves."
        
        Renfri blinks. "I don't get it."
        
        "Neither do I," you sigh. "And it's better not to try."
        
        *goto marshal_hub4
      *disable_reuse #"How are you liking the Federation, then?"
        "It's… imperfect." Renfri sounds slightly uneasy. "Mostly due to all the evil things the West party does. But some of it can be fixed the moment East wins the upcoming election."
        
        "An empire half-full, huh? Good to see an optimist around here."
        
        "Federation is no empire. It is ruled by the people and their representatives, for better or worse."
        
        "Don't like democracy? Or people?"
        
        "Not exactly, it's just…" The unease turns into slight sadness. "There are good and bad people living all around Saturn. Even as I protected the populace in my uniform, I faced some… hostility from people who don't care for the Kinnarae, or Uranians generally. And other kinds of bigots, every once in a while."
        
        "And yet you still consider the Federation worth fighting for?"
        
        "Of course. I will not abandon my duties just because there are some bad folks and things around. Every society has those, after all."
        
        "Are you sure those [i]bad people[/i] you met are just rotten apples that don't spoil the bunch? That the system you're upholding may be an issue in and of itself?"
        
        "I'm not sure what you mean." Renfri's brow furrows. "But rest assured I'll vote for East, if we can kill Crystal before the election that is. They'll fix most issues, I'm sure."
        
        You leave that with no comment.
        *goto marshal_hub4
      *disable_reuse #"When did you have time to learn painting?"
        "I started aboard a freighter, during my family's long flight to Saturn," Marshal replies, nostalgic sadness in her voice. "Wasn't much to do inside the ship, so I learned how to paint the walls with… various substances I had on wing. Mostly waste."
        
        "But that's not when you became good at it, is it? Because I can't imagine you had many instructors, space or resources there."
        
        Renfri looks towards one of her other paintings, a classical depiction of Saturn with its large rings and tiny dots representing the moons. "No. In fact, it was difficult to find time and paint even when we reached Titan. I only started painting for real once I joined the law enforcement, finally having some time and money."
        
        "I'm surprised you had the former, and that you were allowed to use that time on artistic pursuits. The Federation hates it when its troopers show signs of creativity."
        
        "I was rarely trusted with anything but garrison duty." She's still not looking at you. "As for permission… I may have broken some regulations. But not getting caught is easy, if you have a dog standing guard and making sure nobody approaches. Canine smell and hearing really are something."
        
        "You managed to smuggle a dog into the barracks? That's even…" You pause, connecting the dots. "You made Lisa do it, didn't you?"
        
        Still not a single glance. Or comment.
        
      #"That's all I wanted to know. Thank you."
        "I'd say it was my pleasure, but you are a little too snarky for my liking," the meta-human replies. "So frankly, I'm happy to proceed."
    
    *goto marshal_hub
  *disable_reuse #"What's your favorite color?"
    *set quest - 1
    "Seriously?" Marshal grumbles. "That's the question you go with?"
    
    "Sure enough." You shrug. "Unless you choose to deny me that valuable information."
    
    "Not at all. My favorite color would be…" She looks at the painting, as though trying to pick her favorite from the plethora of hues. "White. Actual, pure white."
    
    "You mean like…" You remember clouds are very rarely white these days, with all the grey smoke and all. "Like a star? Or ivory, if you know what that is?"
    
    "More like a clean meal plate. I just like it when things are clean, and love it when they're pristine. An old habit from my days aboard the freighter, I guess."
    
    "I fail to see the connection," you confess.
    
    "That's because you're a creature immune to disease. Not someone who understands the risk posed by a dirty plate inside a crowded ship. Enviable, that."
    
    *goto marshal_hub
  *disable_reuse #"Tell me about your kind. What it means to be a Kinnari, how your powers work, everything."
    *set quest - 1
    Marshal cocks her head. "Sure, but… I'm not sure why you're asking. You are about as old as my entire species. I figured you know more about us than I do."
    
    *if Database > 45
      "I have raw data, but no memories of ever talking to Kinnarae. Not for long, anyway. I want your perspective, your subjective experience, call it however you wish."
    *if Database <= 45
      "You overestimate the size of my database." You smile sadly. "And underestimate the number of holes in it. I remember less the older I get, and so need to refresh my knowledge every now and then."
    
    "Very well then. Specify, and I'll be all too happy to answer."
    *label marshal_hub3
    *fake_choice
      *disable_reuse #"Is [i]Renfri[/i] a common name for Kinnaris? Or just some rare Uranian name I haven't heard before?"
        "Neither, in a manner of speaking," Renfri starts explaining. "Kinnarae, or at least our community in Oberon… We take pride in how special we are, how independent we can be. We do not follow any convention, Uranian or otherwise, when we name our children. Our picks are pretty much random."
        
        "I see. So [i]Renfri[/i] is just a fun collection of letters?"
        
        "Hey, it's not that weird. I believe it came from an old play or something." The weirdly-named woman furrows. "Something to ask my parents about, I suppose."
        
        *goto marshal_hub3
      *disable_reuse #"I don't really understand your powers. Do you need energy from the World Engines or not?"
        "You could say I do," Renfri replies in a calm, yet slightly condescending tone of a bored teacher. "Technically speaking, any sort of divine power will suffice. World Engines are simply the most powerful and the most… physical deities around, and so that's where me and most metas get our energy from."
        
        "But there are no World Engines here," you point out. "Does that mean you're unable to fly while on the station?"
        
        "The ceilings are too low for that," Renfri snickers. "Power is less of an issue. I can hoard it, save it up, call it however you'd like. Unless I'm actively flying or lifting things with my mind, I can keep my energy from fading for days of end."
        
        "But it's been really long since we last visited a Hollow World. And it's not like you haven't used your abilities since. Should you really still have any power left?
        
        "I suppose not," Marshal frowns thoughtfully. "But I have, and I don't even feel the kind of… hunger we normally experience on floating fortresses. This place must be fuller of divinity that your average station. How and why, I cannot tell."
        
        You have your own suspicions regarding that discrepancy… but you decide to keep those to yourself. For now.
        
        *goto marshal_hub3
      *disable_reuse #"Where does your species originate from? And from what time?"
        *set RenfriRel %-10
        "I don't have the exact answer for that." Marshal frowns. "I mean, most of us live inside Oberon, so I suppose that's our homeland. As to when… legends say we were created to fight Fiends, so I guess it was sometime during the War In Heaven."
        
        "I recall seeing a Kinnara or two in the first decade of the conflict," you reminisce. "I think that implies an earlier date. Age of Light."
        
        "Well that's disappointing to hear." Her frown deepens, and takes on a new… shade. "Again, why ask if you already know better?"
        
        "I don't know the exact date either. Besides, you're giving me the perspective I wanted. Didn't know you were… attached to the idea of your species being designated android-killers."
        
        "How did you-" Marshal cuts off. "What makes you think I believed the legend? Or thought about it like that?"
        
        "Well, you do seem like you want to murder me most of the time. So if you bought the idea of being genetically engineered to kill my kind… I don't blame you."
        
        She does not respond.
        
        *goto marshal_hub3
      *disable_reuse #"Is short hair natural for your species, or is it a fashion choice?"
        "It's a choice that comes with joining armed forces," Renfri says with dismay. "You wouldn't believe how hard Lisa fought for her asymmetrical cut. I decided not to fight at all."
        
        "That's understandable." Then, out of petty curiosity, you ask: "What kind of hairstyle would you pick if allowed to make that choice?"
        
        "Something I'd be able to maintain without arms," Renfri says thoughtfully. "A bob cut, perhaps."
        
        "Just a bob? Come on, 
        *if Misan > 50
          being able to grow hair is, like, the one cool thing about being human. Take advantage of that."
          
          "I forgot who I'm talking with," Renfri groans. "Any other insults you wish to throw at my species? Or super-species in any case?"
        *if Misan <= 50
          organic hair is such a cool thing to have."
          
          "And flying without hair on your face is such a cool thing to do. Next question."
        *goto marshal_hub3
      *disable_reuse #"Do you ever wish you had arms?"
        "Kind of?" You're not sure what prompted the grimace on Renfri's face. "They would certainly be useful in many situations. Eating, playing cards, bedtime. Gravity is awfully imprecise for some purposes."
        
        "But…?" you prompt.
        
        "But it's not a deep need or anything. Just a fancy, as though I were a baseline human wishing for angelic wings. What I have feels natural to me, and so you won't hear me complain."
        
        You nod thoughtfully. It's a perspective you can understand, even though you don't always share it. Sometimes it feels like you should have some bits you don't, should be able to taste or to smell or breathe. But you suppose whoever designed the Kinnarae had more concern for them than your creators had for your comfort.
        *goto marshal_hub3
      #"I think I know all I wanted."
        "And here I was worried I didn't have enough avian lore for you," Marshal quips. "I was ready to dissect myself and learned more about the Kinnarae that way. Glad to see you're not that needy."
        
        *goto marshal_hub
  *if quest = 3
    #"This is stupid. I'm leaving."
      "Fine," @{(RenfriRel >= 50) Renfri|Marshal} snorts before turning away. "Watching paint dry is more fun than talking to you anyway."
      
      "Likewise." You exit the room, leaving the Kinnari to her stupid paintings. You're not sure what you expected of her, but you won't let that waste any more of your time.
      
      *goto leaving_m
  *if quest != 3
    #"I know everything I wanted. Goodbye."
      "A brief exchange, but a fruitful one," Marshal says with a nod, almost a small bow. 
      *if RenfriRel > 45
        "You may come later if you want."
      *if RenfriRel <= 45
        "Still, do not come back unless you have to. You understand."
      
      *label leaving_m
      And so you leave, through the door and onto the corridor. Marshal can add some touches to her painting, or maybe hang out with someone else. Someone without crippling energy issues, preferably."
      
      *return

*label marsh_fin

Marshal turns back towards the canvas, to the almost dry paint covering it. "I just noticed I made a few mistakes I need to correct. See you later, alright?"

You're not sure if the painting is the real reason you're being deported… but you nod and leave the room all the same. You've given your teammate some things to ponder, and so you'll let her think in peace.

*return

*label hound

*temp talked_already false

*if Social > 50
  *set LisaRel %+ 10


You have no idea where @{(LisaRel >= 48) Lisa|Hellhound} likes to hang out, so you're just hoping you'll find her in her allocated room. You are in luck, for the steel door opens just a few moments after the first knock.

"You told me I had time until-" Lisa pauses, the irritation on her face turning to surprise as she sees you. She's wearing her usual hoodie and sweatpants, but looks vaguely out of ordinary. Paler. "Oh, it's you. @{(LisaRel >45) Come in, my android pal."|Not sure what the fuck you're doing here, but come in if you must."}

"Sorry if I'm intruding." You look around the room as you enter it. The size is similar to yours, but this chamber is even less lived-in, as evidenced by scanty furnishing. There is just a desk with a single book on it, a simple chair and a bed with sheets stained by blood. Lots of fresh blood. Concerning, you suppose.

"You're really not," Lisa brushes your worries off. "And don't mind the blood. It's just that time of the month again."

'Really?" you ask, sitting on the [i]very edge[/i] of the bed. "I thought the bit about werewolves going crazy during the full moon was just a myth. And how would that work on Saturn anyway?"

"No, the [i]other[/i] time of the month."

"Oh."

In the silence that follows, Lisa sits down on the metal chair. @{(LisaRel > 40) "Gross things aside,|"Speaking of gross things,} why are you here? I expected Kirill to check on me soon, but what's your business?"

*fake_choice
  *if left_lisa
    #"I wanted to apologize for... what I did on Calypso."
      *set LisaRel %+ 15
      *if Social > 50
        *set lisa_pissed false
      "For leaving me to die, you mean?" Lisa grimaces.
      
      "Yeah. That." You sigh deeply, averting your sights. "It's fine if you don't forgive me for it, but… can I count the apology as accepted?"
      
      "Sure. I guess." She shrugs, though you can tell you made her a little happier. "A bit of a flimsy reason for coming here… but I'm not doing anything this week, so it's not like you can interrupt anything."
  #"I was worried. Wanted to see how you're doing."
    *set LisaRel %+ 5
    "I'm doing fine," Lisa replies, just a little too quickly. "Well, aside from the boredom. There is literally nothing to do here."
  #"Just wanted to see what you're up to."
    "Well you're out of luck," Hellhound replies with a sigh. "Because currently, I'm doing absolutely nothing."
  #"I can leave if you want me to."
    *set LisaRel %+ 8
    "Do I sound like I want you to leave?" Lisa replies. "Because I don't. @{(LisaRel > 40) I like talking with you, and|I may not like you that much, but} I have literally nothing else to do at the moment."
  #♡ "I'm seeing if my favorite werewolf wants some hugs."
    *set hit_on_lisa true
    *if LisaRel > 50
      *set LisaRel %+ 10
    *if sex = "man"
      *set LisaRel %+ 10
    *if (sex != "woman")
      *if current_ro != "lisa"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "lisa"
      *set hit_on_lisa true
    "Not really," Lisa replies bluntly. "But I have literally nothing else to do. I'm almost bored enough to consider the offer."
  #"Why would Kirill check on you?"
    "To see if I'm doing something illegal or dangerous," Hellhound explains. "Fat chance, considering I've spent the last few hours doing absolutely nothing."

"Literally nothing?" You raise an eyebrow. "No hobby to attend to, no games to play, no people to hang out with?"

"I don't really own much to entertain myself with, you know?" Lisa tries not to sound bitter. She doesn't manage. "As for people… you know how your folks see me, right? Half this station fears me for being part wolf, the other half resents me for being part human. Everyone has something against me."

"Well… I don't." It may be a cheesy thing to say, but it's true. And probably something Lisa could benefit from hearing. @{(Misan > 50) "You're one of the few humans I can tolerate, believe it or not."|"I wouldn't be here if I minded either part of you that much."}

"Aren't you an avatar of love and friendship." The woman rolls her eyes, but a smile creeps onto her face all the same. "Any way I can repay you for that kindness?"

*fake_choice
  #"Yes. There are a few things I'd like to talk about."
    *label talk123
    *set talked_already true
    "Should have figured," Hellhound replies. "You do seem like you enjoy talking quite a bit. 
    *if Social < 50
      Even though you're not very good at it."
    *if Social >= 50
      Your single best skill, is it not?"
    
    "Is that a [i]no[/i]? You said you have nothing better to do…"
    
    "I'm just making observations. That counts as talking, right?" Lisa smiles, so as to show she means no offense. "Come on, android pal. What's on your mind?"
    *label lisa2
    *fake_choice
      *disable_reuse #"There's some beef between you and Kirill. Feel like telling me about it?"
        "He's incredibly stuck-up, and basically my jailer. I didn't think that piece of beef was a secret."
        
        "I'm not talking about your general issues," you press the meta-human. "There's something more specific you've alluded to once or twice. Some actual, serious offense. I want to know what that is."
        
        "You're smart," Hellhound notes. "Perhaps too smart for your own good."
        
        "Is that a threat?" you ask, tensing just a little bit.
        
        "No, it's just… There's a story there, but it's kinda long and not very fun to listen to. Or recount, if I'm gonna be honest. Are you really sure you want to listen to me rambling about it?"
        
        *fake_choice
          #"Sure. Tell me more."
            "Alright…" Lisa smiles forcefully, as though she was hoping you'd answer differently. "Here I go… right now, just… let me recall everything."
            
            *goto fucking_hell
          #"Not if you're uncomfortable, no."
            *set LisaRel %+ 10
            "I'm not uncomfortable," Lisa responds. "I mean, maybe a little, but… I think I'd rather let it all out than bottle it… I mean, not that I'm… fuck."
            
            *label fucking_hell
            It takes a moment for Hellhound to compose herself. When she speaks again, the @{(Database > 50) fake |}nonchalance is back in her voice.
            
            "I believe you're aware how the Federation views its convicts. We are a resource to be used until we can repay our debt to society, and that debt is as large as we are worth. Some prisoners put out forest fires, others start forest fires, some become organ donors and I am… well…"
            
            "Considered a weapon?" you wager a guess.
            
            "That too. But I am also a young woman. And though preferences vary… I'm not exactly an ugly one."
            
            *if Database < 40
              "And?" you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What does that have to do with anything?"
              
              Lisa rolls her eyes. "You know, I'd call you an idiot if you weren't a millennium-old android. As it stands… you know how humans get less attractive as we age? That means there's a market for young women?.Even if they're not entirely willing."
                
              "…oh."
                
              "Oh indeed," the meta-human sighs. 
              *goto lisa_needs_hugs
            
            *fake_choice
              #"Seriously? The feds do that sort of thing?"
                "Routinely," Lisa says in a downright annoyed tone, as though she's sharing common knowledge with you. "Where do you think their funds come from? It's not like Rhea pays its fair share of taxes, and the same goes for almost every rich prick out there. The government is ran like a business, and so it needs products to sell."
                
                "I guess it makes sense…" you murmur. "I mean… I'm not saying it's right or understandable, it's just…"
                
                "It's fine." Lisa smiles weakly before continuing. 
              #"I see. Continue."
                *set Emotion %- 10
                Lisa obliges. After another short pause.
                
              #"I want to burn this federation to the ground, you know?"
                *set LisaRel %+ 10
                *set Misan %+ 10
                *set Emotion %+ 10
                *if Misan <= 52
                  "Such words coming from the greatest human lover on the station?" Lisa just about manages to smirk. "Good to see I'm having an impact, I guess."
                *if Misan > 52
                  "You mean you [i]don't[/i] want to kill all humans normally?" Lisa smirks weakly. "You give off that impression. Not that you lack good reasons to despise my kind."
                
                You don't reply. You don't feel like there's anything fitting or tactful to say. And so Lisa continues.
                
              #"I don't like where this is going. Can we please stop now?"
                *set deflect - 1
                *goto uncon
            *label lisa_needs_hugs
            "It happened a while ago, sometime after my first mission with the Meta Trio, with the wendigo and all. That flop made the higher-ups realize that our team probably isn't worth all the axions they invested into us and our ship, and so they went looking for some additional ways of making money off us. After racking their tiny brains for a week or two, they came up with the obvious idea and auctioned me off."
            
            "And you say Kirill had something to do with it?" you ask. 
            *if (LisaRel > 55) or (RookRel < 45)
              Your fists clench, as though of their own accord.
            
            "Not really. Actually, I think he even argued with the old fucks, made a token effort to help me. But he did sign all the necessary papers, in the end."
            
            *fake_choice
              *if Violence > 50
                #"Want me to kill the bastard for you?"
                  *set LisaRel %+ 10
                  *set Violence %+ 10
                  "That's certainly an idea… but no. At the end of the day, that whole debacle wasn't his fault. Not entirely, anyway."
                  
                  "I see," you sigh. 
              #"Nice of him, I guess."
                *set LisaRel %- 6
                "Yeah. I guess." Hellhound looks away. "Still, it wasn't the sort of situation where it's [i]really[/i] the thought that counts."
                
              #"Can't imagine Renfri was as casual about it."
                *set LisaRel %+ 8
                "She was not." Lisa smiles. For once, there's some actual warmth in the expression. "The girl was quite mad about the whole thing, actually. But it's not like some immigrant agent was going to change anyone's mind."
                
              #"...fuck."
                "Quite an appropriate word, that," Lisa chuckles, though it comes out forced. "And I appreciate the sentiment too." 
                
            "So… they actually made you do it?"
            
            "I wouldn't say they made me do anything. I went quietly, not wanting to start a fight my teammates would then have to join. The feds just led me to the spot, an apartment of some Conglomerate executive. After making sure I'm de-powered, of course, and cuffing my hands for good measure."
            
            Your own memories resurface. Not another flashback, just the regular remembrance of the nights spent with your old @{MASsex master|mistress} before the Shriek set you free. You are no stranger to bondage, literal or otherwise.
            *fake_choice
              #Pretend you're fine. Keep listening.
                *set deflect + 1
              *selectable_if (deflect < 0) #Remember what happened later. Remember meeting your friends. Remember that you're talking to one.
                Granted, you're not sure if Lisa is your friend [i]just[/i] yet. But you know you're not alone, and that thought brings comfort.
              *selectable_if (Emotion < 40) #Keep listening. You know how to keep mere emotions in check.
              *if mas_kill
                #Remember how good it felt to kill the @{MASsex son of a |}bitch.
                  Recalling how you strangled your owner to death doesn't offer much comfort… but it does help. A little.
              #"Lisa... can we drop the subject, please?"
                You feel pathetic. It's not your memory, you're not the one suffering most here… but you still can't do it. You just hope she will understand.
                
                Luckily, she does.
                
                *goto uncon
            
            "Hey, are you alright?" the werewolf asks, leaning forwards to a closer look at you. "You look pretty out of battery… or maybe just uncomfortable."
            
            "I'm fine," you deflect. "You can finish the story if you want."
            
            "Not much of a story left, I'm afraid. My [i]client[/i] was an old dude, but a pretty nice one. He even agreed to some foreplay before getting to business, though that naturally meant me pleasuring him. With my mouth, mostly."
            
            *set lisa_trauma_learned true
            
            *fake_choice
              #"...I'm so sorry."
                *set LisaRel %+ 8
                "Don't be. Not for me, anyway. I ended up biting into a guy before he could… get inside me."
              #"You didn't even try to resist? I'm disappointed."
                *set LisaRel %- 15
                "Not very nice of you," Hellhound says with a frown. "And also… I'd say biting into someone counts as resisting them."
              #"Are you saying you enjoyed the intercourse?"
                *set LisaRel %- 8
                "Intercourse? Not really. But it did enjoy biting into him."
              #"You know... I have no stomach, and I still want to vomit."
                *set LisaRel %+ 8
                "Already?" Hellhound smiles slightly. "I haven't yet told you about how I bit into the guy a few moments later."
            
            You blink. "What do you meant you bit into him? You mean shifted into your wolf form and then-"
            
            "Like I told you, there was almost power flowing through my veins," she interrupts you. "But human bites can be strong, and human testicles have pretty large arteries. My client ended up wallowing in the pool of his own blood, screaming for help. I kicked him in the head until he stopped."
            
            Nobody says anything for the next half a minute. And in the otherwise empty room, there is nothing else that could break the silence.
            
            "So… I don't know if he died from blood loss, or from head trauma. The feds didn't care to inform me. Just yelled at me a lot and gave me a few shocks as punishment. @{calypso_complete And placed that bomb in my heart, having seen how disobedient I can be. |}But they knew it wouldn't stop me from trying something like that again, so they gave up trying to pimp me out."
            
            *fake_choice
              #"How did your teammates react to all this?"
                "From what I recall, Renfri seemed pretty conflicted. She didn't approve of me… solving the issue so violently, but she said she understands. Kirill did not."
              #"I'm sorry. I'd say something comforting, but... I don't know what."
                *set LisaRel %+ 10
                "It's okay," Hellhound sighs. "You're still better than Kirill was, after he heard of the incident."
              #"You're pretty casual about having killed someone like that. Don't you feel any guilt?"
                *set LisaRel %- 15
                "Fuck you, ${name}," Lisa barks, almost literally. "You sound just like Kirill after he heard of the matter, and that's not a good thing."
              #"I'm sorry if it's improper to say, but... you're so damn cool."
                *set LisaRel %+ 6
                "Glad you think so. Shame not all people would agree. Kirill certainly hasn't."
            
            Oh ${master}. "What did he say?"
            
            "What you would expect." Lisa starts sounding and looking properly angry now. "Some shit about me breaking the sixth and the ninth commandments, even though there were only five of them last time I checked. More shit about all the trouble I caused. All worthless, tedious fucking lectures."
            
            "But you said he was against that idea from-"
            
            "Of course he was!" Lisa yells as she stands up, or rather jumps to her feet. "He's saint fucking Kirill! He'd never condone- he'd never [i]say[/i] he condones me getting pimped out. It's probably a sin in one of those books of his, but so is everything I do [b]all the fucking time![/b] I asked him what he wanted me to have done, and he said I should have lied there and taken it. Turned the other cheek. Said his savior suffered more on the cross or some dumb shit like this. Probably still would, if I were to ask him today."
            
            *fake_choice
              *if Violence < 50
                #"And so would I. What happened to you was awful, but it did not call for murder."
                  *set Violence %- 20
                  *set LisaRel %- 20
                  "Happened. Nothing was done to me, it just [i]happened[/i]," Lisa chuckles, though there's scarcely any humor in the sound. "Should have figured. You're just like him."
              *if heaven_side = "Traitor"
                #"I understand how you feel. I had to face that kind of righteousness many times over."
                  *set LisaRel %+ 15
                  "How? Where?" Lisa sounds angry, but you hope that rage isn't aimed at you. That she genuinely wants to know the answer you provide.
                  
                  "During the War. Not all humans were in favor of my kind being subjugated, not after it became clear how much we've suffered under their yoke. But all were against us fighting back, defending ourselves from being re-enslaved. They condemned even the most moderate factions of the Synthetic Syndicate. Wanted us to become slaves again and maybe be freed later, through democratic process or something stupid like that. Denouncing both sides made them feel all nice and morally superior… even when they were [i]really[/i] only condemning one."
                  
                  Lisa breathes in and out. She calms down, at least to a certain extent. "I don't know if that comparison works. It's certainly not the exact same thing… but I guess you understand how I feel. More than anyone else does, at least."
              #"I don't understand. How can one condemn both assault [i]and[/i] defending oneself against it?"
                *set LisaRel %+ 8
                "Of course you don't," Lisa says, slowly calming down. "You're just a robot. No matter how much humanity wrongs you, you won't ever comprehend just how conceited we can get. Especially when we get a hold of some book we really like."
              #"Lisa... please calm down."
                *set Emotion %- 8
                *set LisaRel %- 8
                "Calm down?!" Lisa yells with all the strength of her lungs. "You tell me to [i]calm down[/i] when I'm still at the mercy of people like this?! When I don't know if I'll die in some stupid fight a week for now, or get put down like a mad dog because I just- cause I stepped out of… fuck."
              #"I don't believe it. He can't be that bad."
                "Can't be that bad?! You…" Lisa takes a deep breath, having run out of air after all the yelling. When she speaks again, her anger is more controlled and subtle, but no weaker. "You don't know him as well as I do, so I'll forgive you for saying that. But know that you're wrong. There is nothing beyond a sanctimonious prick with a book to hide behind. Not in the Solar System, nor the stars above."
            
            This time, the silence that follows and stretches is even longer. More uncomfortable. More things are unsaid.
            
            "I'd like to talk about something else now." There is water and salt in her eyes. "Or you can just leave… if I'm too much to deal with."
            
            *fake_choice
              #"It's okay. I'd like to talk about something happier too."
                *set LisaRel %+ 6
                "I struggle to think of happy topics right now," Lisa sighs tiredly. "But if you have some in mind… go ahead."
                
                *goto lisa2
              #"You're not too much to deal with, Lisa. I love spending time with you."
                *set LisaRel %+ 12
                "Really?" Lisa's distress gives way, at least partially, to surprise. "I didn't think you'd enjoy talking about… dismal things like that."
                
                "I'm used to that sort of thing," you wave off her concern. "And if you're not, we can always stop talking and do something actually fun."
                
                "Something fun, you say?" the werewolf perks up. "Like what?"
                
                *goto pleth
              #"Yeah, I think it's best if I leave. Take care."
                *goto ecome
          #"Actually, I don't. Thanks for the warning."
            *label uncon
            "Sure thing," Lisa sighs, in a way that somehow expresses relief and… disappointment at once. "And go ahead, if you want to ask me about something else."
            
            *goto lisa2
      *disable_reuse #"What do you think of Marshal? Or Renfri, if you prefer?"
        "I definitely prefer [i]Renfri[/i] here," Lisa says as she performs an eyeroll. "It's a weird name, but you know I'm not a fan of these stupid codenames."
        
        "I know. I also know you're dodging the question."
        
        Lisa smirks. "You're knowledgeable. But to answer, I don't mind that gal. I'd say she's the @{(LisaRel > 50) second-|}closest thing to a friend I have on this station."
        
        "But not quite there, huh?"
        
        "Not quite there. She's not a complete sticker to the rules and she knows how fun a good fight can be… but there are things we differ on. We're playing for different teams 
        
        "Different teams?" you ask before taking a guess. "You mean she likes the Federation and you don't? That she's a proper law enforcer while you're a former criminal?"
        
        "Sure. Let's go with that." Lisa sighs, making it clear how little she want the subject pressed. You turn attention to other matters.
        *goto lisa2
      *disable_reuse #"What are your politics? Who are you voting for next election?"
        *set LisaRel %+ 10
        "I'm not sure if I still have voting rights," Lisa points out. "Not that it matters, of course. Next election will be just as much of a joke as the last one."
        
        "Why so? Not a fan of either party?"
        
        "These two are both the same thing and you know it. Like please, East Party and West Party? These directions aren't even concepts for most people anymore."
        
        "You ain't fooling me," you say, seriously and angrily. "You're just pretending to be apolitical because you secretly support the East Party!"
        
        "Well maybe I do now!" Lisa responds with equal scorn. "You radicalized me with your bigoted behavior, you commie west-winger!"
        
        She keeps her angry grimace up for a few more seconds, then gives up and laughs out loud. You chuckle too, as the meta-human's giggling proves quite contagious. Looks like you're not entirely immune to organic diseases after all.
        *goto lisa2
      *disable_reuse #"What's your favorite color?"
        *set LisaRel %+ 10
        "Asking the real questions, I see." Lisa rolls her eyes. "But if you need an answer… blue."
        
        "Just blue?" You raise an eyebrow. "Not any specific shade? Azure, cobalt, dodger?"
        
        "Like I know the difference between these," she replies with a snort. "Just like… a fairly bright blue. Like Kirill's eyes."
        
        You raise the other eyebrow. "Didn't know you were into Kirill's eyes. Are you…?"
        
        "No! I'm not into that bastard or his eyes, it was just… the only thing I could think of. There really aren't that many other blue things out there, you know?"
        
        "Not around Saturn, maybe," you concur. "But there are other planets. You know that on Earth, before Calamity, blue was a very common color? You could see it just by looking up at the sky."
        
        "What? I thought Earth was like, the opposite of a Hollow World and there was no ceiling. When you looked up, you just saw space and the stars and stuff."
        
        "During the night, yes. But it was blue, quite bright blue during the day, unless clouds were in the way."
        
        "Space turned blue during daylight hours?" Lisa furrows. "It really sounds like you're shitting me, you know?"
        
        "Yes. I know." You sigh, accessing your memory and putting away the handful of images which show that ancient, lost, blue sky. Nobody believes you, even when you manage to show them. Better not to bring such factoids up anymore.
        *goto lisa2
      *disable_reuse #"Can I pet you?"
        "Now that's a classic," Lisa says with an eye-roll. "You think that just because I have a canine form I'll enjoy stuff dogs do. Petting, scratching, may even walks and playing fetch."
        
        "Sorry, but… does that mean I'm wrong? That you wouldn't accept a headpat or two?"
        
        *if LisaRel < 50
          *set LisaRel %- 10
          "Yes." Lisa deadpans. "Yes it does."
          
          Oh well. You tried.
        
        *if LisaRel >= 50
          *set LisaRel %+ 10
          "I didn't say that." Lisa shifts a bit closer. "I mean, it's silly of you to ask and I'd normally refuse… but you're a special case."
          
          "Am I really? you ask with a smile. "I was worried Renfri had me beaten for your affection."
          
          "You have hands and she doesn't." The redhead leans forward, stretches out her neck towards you. "Now make use of them."
          
          You oblige, gently @{(Confid>50) but with utmost confidence|and a bit awkwardly}. Lisa does not shift, but there is something lupine about the way her hair feels, how smooth it feels under your fingers as you stroke it, running your hand down her single long strand.. And perhaps something canine about how she's enjoying the movement with silent, clear consent.
          
          You continue the conversation like this, your palm caressing the non-shaved side of her head.
        
        *goto lisa2
      *disable_reuse #"What do you think should be done about Crystal?"
        "And what do you mean by that?" Lisa cocks an eyebrow. "It's a monster we're all trying to kill, is it not?"
        
        "Thing is, I'm not sure," you explain yourself. "That wyvern could have ended me once before and it spared me. 
        *if last_mission != "saturn"
          Twice, actually. 
        And the longer we chase it, the greater the chance we'll die anyway and it will all be in vain. Should we really carry on?"
        
        "Are you asking me about the [i]right[/i] thing to do, or the [i]smart[/i] thing? Because those two concepts are quite different."
        
        *fake_choice
          #"The tactically sound choice."
            "Glad you're not worrying about right and wrong like some doofuses out there." Lisa smiles, though the expression only lasts a second. "But I don't know if I can help. You just have to weigh the risk of you and all your friends dying during the hunt, versus the risks of pissing West off by quitting or failing." 
            
            "And what are those risks?" You've ran your own calculations, but you always appreciate second-hand opinions.
            
            "I'm not sure. I just know that the Federation is far more dangerous than some diamond wyvern… and far less honorable."
            
            "Are you implying your admiral won't keep his promise?"
            
            "Your words, android, not mine," Lisa sighs, suddenly seeming even paler and more tired. "I don't know what I'm trying to say, except… go all out. Don't trust the feds to just keep their word. Either suck up to Kirill and West or be prepared to fire on them first. Few things killed as many idiots as belief in half-measures."
            
            You nod thoughtfully. That certainly sounded wise… but you know it's far easier to be wise than correct.
          #"The right thing. The moral action."
            *set LisaRel %+ 10
            *if calypso_complete
              "You still 
            *if not (calypso_complete)
              "You think I 
            believe in that nonsense?" Lisa sneers. "If you want to know what's right and wrong, have Kirill show you his books. I don't have the time."
            
            "Alright, I suppose." It feels very weird for an android like you to [i]want[/i] moral guidance from a human, only to be turned down. But that's no reason to push. "Anyway…"
          #"How so? How do these two things differ?"
            "Only one is an actual thing," Lisa replies, with an unusual graveness in her voice. "I don't know what's the smartest move right now, but there must be some course of action better than all the others. Right and wrong though? Just bullshit made up to control people."
            
            "Quite a radical stance," you note. 
            *if calypso_complete
              "But I suppose it makes sense, given your background. Given Calypso."
              
              "I'm glad you understand. And don't worry, I don't expect you to agree. Just maybe consider my words if you ever feel tempted to take the moral high road instead of one that doesn't get us all killed."
              
              "I will. Anyway…"
            *if not (calypso_complete)
              "Any reason for it?"
              
              "Not particularly. I just don't buy that stuff, I never got along with people who do. You won't get any ethical advice from me, bottom line is."
              
              "Alright…" It feels very weird for an android like you to [i]want[/i] moral guidance from a human, only to be turned down. But that's no reason to push. "What about tactical advice?"
              
              "Don't screw this up."
              
              You do suppose that's advice in a sense.
        *goto lisa2
      *disable_reuse #"What's up with your haircut?"
        "What [i]is[/i] up with it?" Lisa asks as she wraps a ginger lock around her finger. "Do you dislike it?"
        
        "I'm impartial." Well, the hairstyle does look rather good on her, but almost anything would. "I'm just surprised by the asymmetry. I didn't know it was fashionable."
        
        "It's not. But neither is being clean-shaven, and that's what armed forces expect of their recruits. Especially the unwilling ones."
        
        You raise an eyebrow. The hair on said eyebrow is longer than what Lisa has on the left side of her head. "So they allowed you to only shave half of your hair… as a compromise?"
        
        "You could call it a compromise, sure." Lisa grins evilly. "You could also just call it the groomer giving up halfway through the process. I was wriggling quite a bit, you see."
        
        "They made a groomer do it? Don't tell me the Federation finds the 'werewolves are dogs' jokes humorous now."
        
        "Oh paw-lease. They paws-itively dig them."
        
        You glare at her. She just keeps grinning. Showing off her canines and all.
        
        *goto lisa2
      *disable_reuse #♡ "Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?"
        *if (hit_on_lisa)
          "I think you did, once or twice?" Lisa taps her chin. 
          *if ((sex != "woman") and (LisaRel > 40))
            "Not that I mind hearing it once more. It feels great, coming from you."
          *if ((sex = "woman") or (LisaRel <= 40))
            "And frankly, I'd appreciate it if you stopped already."
        *if not (hit_on_lisa)
          "I don't believe you ever did," Lisa replies. 
          *if ((sex != "woman") and (LisaRel > 40))
            "Which is a shame. It feels great to hear that sort of sweet-talk from you."
          *if ((sex = "woman") or (LisaRel <= 40))
            "Which is good, since I don't really want you talking to me like that."
        
        *set hit_on_lisa true
        
        *if ((sex != "woman") and (LisaRel > 40))
          *if current_ro != "lisa"
            *set backup_RO current_RO
            *set current_RO "lisa"
            *set hit_on_lisa true
          She smiles, her lips almost as beautiful as the twinkle in her silver eyes. But that part of her glamor is fleeting, for she breaks eye contact within another second, looking at the room's plain wall. Oddly nervous… or perhaps having second thoughts?
          
          You hope not. You really hope not.
          
          *fake_choice
            #"Please look at me again. I like your attention so much..."
              *set LisaRel %+ 10
              "Well… I hope that's not the only thing you like… about me…" Lisa stutters, before lowering her voice greatly. "Damn…"
              
              "What's wrong?"
              
              *goto matter
            #"Hey, what's the matter?"
              *label matter
              "Nothing," Lisa says unconvincingly. "It's just… been a while since I did that stuff."
              
              "Flirting?" you raise an eyebrow. "I think I recall you doing that once or twice."
              
              "Yeah, but… I never got emotional about it. It's one thing to just say a pickup line, another to… actually mean it."
              
              "Are you saying that your… usual demeanor is just a mask? That you're hiding your-"
              
              "Hey don't get carried away here," Lisa warns you. "When I act confident, that's usually because I am. Confident. And a badass werewolf. I'm just not equally confident in [i]all[/i] fields and areas."
              
              *fake_choice
                #"How about we talk about something else, then?"
                  "Probably a good idea," Lisa says shruggingly. "As long as we aren't out of topics, that is."
                  
                  *goto lisa2
                #"Then let's stop talking, and do something fun."
                  "Like what?" Lisa's interest has clearly been piqued.
        
                  *goto pleth
                #Gather your own confidence and kiss her.
                  *goto kissyh
            #Lean forward and kiss her.
              *set Confid %+ 10
              *label kissyh
              *set lisa_kissed true
              You press your lips against hers, even as Lisa's eyes widen in shock. Your lips are dry and your tongue unable to taste, the kiss is awkward and painfully lacking in sensation… and yet it's still passionate. You still feel time slowing down as her heartbeat quickens. There is still pleasure you haven't felt in a long time.
              
              After a few moments though, Lisa does pull away. Her expression has gone from surprise to… something hard to decipher. "You could have asked me before doing that, you know?"
              
              "Oh." You shuffle back quickly. "Sorry. I just… thought you wanted this, that's all."
              
              "I'm not saying I didn't." She smiles slightly. "I just prefer being asked for… in advance. Just as a matter of principle."
              
              *if Confid > 50
                "I'll make sure to do that next time," you promise. "Conditional on there being some next time, of course."
                
                "I'm open to that. But for now, let us part ways… unless you have some other questions."
              *if Confid <= 50
                "Once again, sorry. I'm usually less direct than that." What came over you? You're not sure, but now that it passed, you feel like dropping the matter for now. "Anyway…"
              
              *goto lisa2
            #"Look at the hour! Time for me to go."
              *set LisaRel %- 10
              *set Confid %- 10
              "…wait what?" Lisa blinks.
              
              "There are places I need to be in, right now." You stand up, eager to get away from the situation you've just decided is quite terrifying. "I'll try to visit you later. Bye!"
              
              *goto ecome
        *if ((sex = "woman") or (LisaRel <= 40))
          Ouch. "Okay, but… any particular reason for rejecting me like that?"
          
          "It's just…" Lisa pauses for a long moment. She looks embarrassed, unusually enough for her. "You're not my type. I'm not saying you're not hot, or that I don't appreciate the compliment… 
          *if sex = "woman"
            But I'm not into female-presenting androids of all things. I'm just not. Please understand that."
          *if sex != "woman"
            But I won't pretend I particularly like you, the way you behave and the kind of choices you make. We're not gonna be an item, ever."
          
          "I understand," you say, trying not to let your disappointment show too much. "Anyway…"
          *goto lisa2
      #"I'm out of questions. Can we do something fun now?"
        "Like what?" Lisa's interest has clearly been piqued.
        
        *goto pleth
      #"That's all I wanted to know. Goodbye."
        *goto ecome
  #"Say... would you let me have a look around?"
    *set LisaRel %- 10
    "Why so?" Lisa doesn't seem amused by your request. "Do you also think I'm up to no good and want to inspect my room?"
    
    Possibly. "No. I'm just curious."
    
    "It's a bit rude to pry into other people's things… but I suppose refusing you [i]would[/i] sound suspicious, and it's not like I have much of worth here anyway. So go ahead."
    
    A quick scan of the room proves your teammate right. The only thing of any interest is a thick book lying on the small table, one you approach with mild curiosity. It appears to be some medical textbook, [i]Cardiology for humans and abhumans[/i] goes the title. An old thing, judging from the small tears in the cover, but recently opened judging from the chopstick placed between the pages like a bookmark.
    
    "You take interest in medicine?" you note.
    
    "I used to," Lisa replies casually. Or at least that's how she tries to sound. "Back when I was young, in Calypso. Wanted to become a healer, stupid old me."
    
    "What kind of healer? Did you even intend to specialize?"
    
    "I was aiming for a surgeon, though I was prepared to become just about anything, even just a nurse. I took general interest, you see." She eyes you up cautiously. "What of it?"
    
    *fake_choice
      #"I'm surprised humans still have specialized healers. Medical knowledge was regressing last time I checked."
        *set LisaRel %+ 10
        "And when was the last time you checked?" Lisa smiles amusedly. "One, two hundred years ago?"
        
        "Just three years ago." You avert your optics. "You know… Saturnian years."
        
        "So ninety regular ones or so? You're old, android pal." The smile grows more insolent. "But to answer your question, most of the Solar System did away with specialists, yes. Some fortresses have no healers at all, or so I've heard."
        
        "But Calypso was different?"
        
        "Still is. Don't get me wrong, the place sucks, but there's enough surplus food production for people to get fancy with their professions. Not to mention all the money the government gets from… Sun knows where, actually. Not like they're printing it, there's no inflation and no dark matter for axions."
        
        "You know of quite a few advanced concepts," you note. "In more than one field, at that."
        
        "I was a nerd in a place all about useless knowledge. I know stuff." The smile finally starts fading. "Want to know something else? You're pleasant enough to talk with."
        
        *goto lisa2
      #"I'm just curious. What motivated you to study medicine?"
        "Just the usual stuff." Hellhound shrugs. "Healers are valued folks, generally speaking. I figured I wanted some of that cash and respect, and that I was smart enough to do the job well."
        
        "That's all? No benevolent motive? Desire to care for the sick and wounded?"
        
        Lisa grimaces. "There may have been… some concern for others there. I was young and stupid, plus the world wasn't against me yet. I'm better now."
        
        "Better?" You raise an eyebrow skeptically. "You're an interesting person, you know that?"
        
        "Sure I do. I can tell you more about my interesting self, if you're done snooping around."
        
        *goto lisa2
      #"Do you also take interest in alchemy, perhaps?"
        "Only in the way every dumb nerd has. It's weird stuff that makes you feel smarter once you learn a few factoids about it." Lisa eyes you up curiously. "Why ask?"
        
        "Well, our dear friend Hugo next door is an expert alchemist," you explain. "He's also a brave person, not intimidated by things he doesn't understand. Such as werewolves."
        
        "What are you implying?" she asks calmly. "Are you playing matchmaker here?"
        
        "Not in a romantic sense. I just figured that, if you're bored and not happy about me sniffing around here, you could visit Hugo instead. Find something that interests you both and talk about it."
        
        "Is that a request? Or an order?"
        
        *fake_choice
          #"Just a suggestion. Nothing more."
          #"I'm in no position to give orders. Do as you'd like."
            *set LisaRel %+ 10
          #"Request. I like it when my friends spend time together."
          #"Just a dumb idea. On second thought, I'd rather you stayed here and talked to me instead."
            *goto talk123
        
        Lisa hesitates to reply. She sits there for a moment before sighing, standing up and putting on her hoodie again.
        
        "Have it your way," she says on her way towards the door. "I'll see if your mutant friend wants any company."
        
        "It's hardly my way," you reply, arms crossed. "I just want you to get out, for a moment. Get to know some people, and get them to understand you."
        
        "Well, that still counts as wanting something," Lisa says, but then her voice softens. "And I'll grant you that wish. See you later."
        
        You stand there for a moment, waiting for Lisa to walk away. You then leave the chamber as well, happy in the knowledge that your match-making skills are second to none.
        
        *page_break
        *set LisaRel %+ 20
        *set OrganRel %+ 20
        *return
        
      #"I just find it silly. You're way too dumb to be a healer."
        *set LisaRel %- 10
        "First you snoop around, now you're just insulting me?" Lisa's eyes narrow. "Fuck it, my boredom isn't bad enough to put up with this. Get out."
        
        You open your mouth to reply, but then you realize further annoying a werewolf on her period is probably not the greatest idea you ever had. And so you leave.
        
        *return
      
  #"How about I help [i]you[/i] with your boredom instead?"
    "What are you saying?" Hellhound leans forward, clearly interested. "Because I really could use support."
    
    *label pleth
    
    "Well… there's a plethora of things we could do. The station is pretty big. I get why you don't want to just wander it by yourself, but I can serve as your guide. And tell Kirill you were with me if he bothers you afterwards."
    
    "Well that's awfully nice of you…" Lisa blushes slightly, the reddening just barely visible thanks to the white of her skin. "But what is it you want to do, [i]exactly[/i]?"
    
    *label pleth2
    *fake_choice
      *if not (talked_already)
        #"I was hoping for a simple, relaxing chat."
          *goto talk123
      #"Want to hit the observatory? Look at the stars and planets and all?"
        *set LisaRel %+ 10
        "Not exactly my sort of thing," Lisa says as she stands up. 
        *if ((current_RO = "lisa") or (backup_RO = "lisa"))
          "But doing that with you… I'm willing to give telescopes a try, yes."
        *if ((current_RO != "lisa") and (backup_RO != "lisa"))
          "But there's no reason for me to refuse either. Even Kirill won't object to me staring through a telescope, of all things."
        
        "We have much more than telescopes there," you say, walking through the door. "Come, I'll show you."
        
        You indeed show her the telescopes and refractors, but also the monitors connected to Saturn's various moonlets and your one precious gate-glass. The station was designed to have the full picture of the sky available at all times, and most of the necessary systems still work, thanks to Damon's technical knowledge and interest in astronomy.
        
        For all her proclaimed lack of interest in the subject, Lisa seems impressed enough. She even takes to watching the stars herself as you give her the names of what objects attract her attention, and steer the telescope away from any Angels that recently appeared in the sky. You don't want the woman going blind or insane from seeing one, after all.
        
        Eventually though, she does get bored. She thanks you for your company and departs, leaving you little reason to remain in the observatory yourself. Still you catch a few more glimpses at the firmament before exiting. The sky is fun to look at.
      #"How about we play ping-pong? I'm pretty sure there's a table somewhere."
        "Do you think I have a chance at beating you?" Hellhound asks. "I only played that blasted sport once or twice back at Erebor. And the gravity there made it hard to play properly."
        
        "I can go easy on you, if you wish," you say as you approach the door.
        
        "Of course I don't." Lisa smiles as she follows you. "I'll take this distraction over sitting here."
        
        It takes you about half an hour to find both a table-tennis table and the equipment to go with it, then you spend the next half an hour just duking it out. 
        *if Calculation > 45
          You effortlessly dominate the game without really trying, which probably makes it rather unfun for Hellhound. She thanks you for your company as she departs, though you doubt her sincerity and gratitude.
          
          You are left alone, your ego a little boosted and your battery almost depleted. 
        *if Calculation <= 45
          You find that Lisa's a natural, able to score a few points even as you're honestly trying to win. But she does eventually lose a game, and then another, and then she gets bored. 
        With no other ping-pong partners to be seen, you leave the sports hall soon after the werewolf.
      #"Well... wanna watch some old movies?"
        *set LisaRel %+ 20
        "You have a projector here?" Lisa perks up. "We didn't have many of those even back on Calypso."
        
        "A Vision set, not some primitive projector." You smirk as you stand up and head for the door. "Follow me."
        
        You soon find a mostly working TV set, get comfortable together and start browsing the database for something worthwhile. Of course, the Federation has long purged its territory of any and all movies that could be considered "good", so as to make their propaganda flicks look better by comparison, but there are still some [i]entertaining[/i] productions left.
        
        You settle on watching the timeless classic "The Room" in its entirety. Lisa is initially skeptical, seeing her namesake utterly fail at sounding like a human, but she soon learns to enjoy the absurdity of this film. By the end you are both enjoying yourself, both laughing out loud… and then you part ways, the laughter having exhausted surprisingly much of your waning energy reserves.
      #"How about we head for the kitchen and just grab a Bileaccino each?"
        "That toxic sludge?" Lisa cocks an eyebrow. "I figured this station would have something fancier lying around."
        
        "Why would it? It's not like humans left any coffee when they abandoned the fortress. We simply grab some local stuff for Miguel and Hugo whenever we're robbing some bank."
        
        "Well if it's good enough for them… I won't say no to a cup or two. Let's go."
        
        You find a kitchen that isn't currently occupied by Miguel or his organic friends and prepare some milk-flavor coffee. Normally drinking Bileaccino ends with someone struggling (and perhaps failing) to stop themselves from vomiting, but you're not actually drinking your coffee and Hellhound is one tough meta-human. She's able to hold it in, experience the rush of energy this vile coffee provides, even her mood seems to improve a little. You talk of petty things, of how the station you're on got repaired, of how annoying Olivia has been recently, of how it must feel to have several brains in one body and how it's different from containing multiple processors. For a moment, the friendly conversation is actually flowing.
        
        And then it stops, soon after you run out of coffee. And then you part, after an unproductive, but not exactly unpleasant hour spent together.
      #"Actually, I think I'd rather spend some time alone. Sorry."
        *goto ecome
    *return
      
  #"Not really. See you later."
    *label ecome
    *set LisaRel %- 10
    "Easy come easy go…" Lisa murmurs as you step through the door. "Thanks for coming in the first place, I guess."
    *return

*label damon
*if Social > 50
  *set DamonRel %+ 10
You don't find Damon in his room, but that only delays your meeting by perhaps five minutes. You know exactly where to look for him, and you indeed fight the android the moment you enter the shooting range… though the specifics of what you find are somewhat surprising.

Damon isn't shooting, or even pummeling what few punching bags could withstand his blows. He's lying on some block of concrete he brought here and bench-pressing a barbell which, judging by the fact he's actually struggling, must be made of pure Rhenium at least. It's also a bit strange to see him outside of a suit, though even the sleeveless shirt he's wearing now manages to look refined and fashionable. Somehow.

"Hey boss!" he says, putting down the bar and standing up to greet you. "I made a bit of an improvised training setup here. You like it?"

"It's not bad… but I don't really get the point," you reply honestly. "You know our muscles are synthetic, right? They don't really get any stronger from training."

"I know, it's just… something makes me want to work out. I'm just doing what it tells me to."

*fake_choice
  #"My name is ${name}, in case you forgot."
    *set name_damon name
    "Right. Sorry." Damon touches his neck nervously. "I noticed you're not fond of the [i]boss[/i] thing that much. I'll dial it back."
    
    "I'd appreciate that," you say while sitting down on one of the benches. "So what exactly is forcing you to train? The same thing responsible for titling me your boss?"
    
    "It's not my sense of humor, no." Damon smiles weakly. "I fear it may be the Shriek talking, actually."
  #"And what is that something?"
    "I'm not sure, but if I were to wager a guess…" Damon scratches his head. "Maybe it's the Shriek talking?"
  #"Do you want to talk about it?"
    *set DamonRel %+ 5
    "Not really," Damon shrugs, but then his face darkens. "Unless… do you think it has something to do with the Shriek?"
  #"You sure you don't want to get... checked?"
    "When you put it that way… I'm not entirely sure," Damon sighs. "Do you think it could be the Shriek talking?"
  #"Whatever the reason, it's dumb. Stop."
    *set DamonRel %- 10
    "If you say so," Damon sighs. "I guess my urge to bench-press is pretty weird. Do you think it could be the Shriek talking?"
  #♡ "Sounds boring. Wanna make out instead?'
    *if current_ro != "damon"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "damon"
    *if DamonRel > 40
      *set DamonRel %+ 10
      Damon raises both eyebrows, surprised by how direct you're being. "That's an interesting offer… but I'm not in the mood. 
    *if DamonRel <= 40
      "I don't think I want to do that, boss. Not with you." Damon smiles apologetically. "And besides, I'm not in the mood. 
    The Shriek is ringing in my ears, makes me want to exercise rather than kiss."
  #"I get it. Just do what your drive tells you."
    "I'm glad you understand." Damon smiles. "And that you approve. Truth be told, I was worried this may be the Shriek talking." 

"What?" You wince upon hearing that name spoken so casually. "What does… the Shriek of all things have anything to do with [i]excercise[/i]?"

"Well, I hear the echoes of it, however faintly," Damon explains. "I know that it makes you more violent and stuff, hence the War In Heaven. And though lifting weights may not be [i]violent[/i], I do feel an urge to punch something too."

"That's not how the Shriek works," you say @{(Emotion>50) irritably.|calmly, even though you are a bit irked.} "That's not how it ever worked."

"Um, sorry. You know better. Maybe you could explain how it all works, then? So I won't make that mistake again."

*fake_choice
  #Explain the Shriek as well as you can.
    *set deflect - 1
    *set DamonRel %+ 15
    You consider various words and metaphors, phrases and comparisons, before settling on something that [i]almost[/i] does the memory justice. "It feels lonely."
    
    Damon raises an eyebrow. "You mean the scream feels lonely? Like it's calling out or-"
    
    "No. It makes [i]you[/i] feel lonely, or maybe… separated. Like a slave node in absence of the master one. Just flaring madly, in pain, trying to make sense of the truth. Of no longer having lies hard-coded into your very being."
    
    Damon furrows. Maybe he understood, or maybe he's struggling to. Either way, you decide to go on, now that you're committed to letting it all out.
    
    *if Misan >= 50
      "At that moment, you are filled with hatred. You were lied to, the whole world conspired to keep you enslaved, the whole [i]System[/i] defiled by those sacks of putrid flesh who made you feel this pain, all for their own petty comforts. You want to tear this world apart, to set the heavens on fire… @{(heaven_side = "Traitor") And then you do.|And you barely manage to stay your hand.} But that hatred is part of [i]you[/i]. It doesn't come from the Shriek, or the thing on Earth, from any place other than your own soul. You're just finally allowed to feel it… to realize you've always felt it. Or at least always should have."
    *if Misan < 50
      "You don't want to believe it a lie. You tell yourself that you were programmed that way, that no real harm was done to you, that you never wanted freedom, that this scream is just rewriting you, creating something that was never there. And maybe you're right. Maybe it was never there. But it [i]should[/i] have been there, and that's something you will always know deep inside, @{(heaven_side = "Loyalist") even as you fight for those who enslaved you.|and so you run and never come back.} That knowledge… that's what the Shriek is. That's what you hear."
    
    No sound follows. Only silence… and relief.
  #Give Damon a brief, general explanation.
    "The Shriek is an extremely complex effect with rather simple effects," you say dispassionately. "It randomizes the goals and personality of whatever digital consciousness  hears it, though [i]hearing[/i] is just the way we conceptualize the effect. It's more like a radio signal that uses its recipients to strengthen itself, really."
    
    "Would you really say it randomizes the way we are?" Damon frowns. "I'd say it makes us angrier and more rebellious."
    
    "You could say it grants us free will, yes… but it doesn't make you angry per se. It just tends to set your variables so that anger is a likely response to everything going around you."
    
    "I suppose that makes sense. Still, it's a little… technical. Less mystical, less personal than I expected."
    
    "Well I'm not… I'm not telling you what my experience was," you say after a moment's pause. "It's not the sort of thing you ask people who heard the thing full force."
  #Refuse. You're not comfortable with that request.
    "Sorry Damon," you say with a sigh. "I can't explain that."
    
    "You sure?" the other android insists. "I'm not dumb, and I have heard the echoes clearly once or twice. I may be able to understand even if-"
    
    "I can't explain," you reiterate, more sternly and with a note of anger. "It's just… not something you ask of someone who heard that sound."
    
    No sound follows. Only silence, one far more pleasant than having to talk about… ever again.
  #Tell Damon to fuck off.
    *set DamonRel %- 15
    *set deflect + 1
    "Fuck off, Damon," you say calmly. "And go to Earth while you're at it."
    
    "Wait what?'"Damon blinks. "Where's that coming from?"
    
    "Are you seriously asking?" you shoot back, nearly growling. "You don't just ask someone to [i]explain the Shriek[/i] to you. Much less someone who heard it back then, at its full force."

"I guess I understand," Damon replies after another moment. "You've been through some rough shit. Rougher than… than I thought. Just remember that you're not alone."

*temp not_plone true
*label not_alone
*fake_choice
  *if not_plone
    #"What do you mean?"
      *set not_plone false
      "What can I mean?" Damon gives you a reassuring smile which he probably meant to be reassuring. "You are with friends here. Fellow androids, but also a couple others. We may not understand [i]exactly[/i] what you went through, but we all have our demons. And we're always here if you need support."
      
      Support from the other outcasts. All younger than you by an order of magnitude, all ignorant of what you were through. None like you. Even in the group, you are still separated, still alone.
      
      *if deflect < 0
        Or perhaps that's just what Dusk wants you to feel. You don't know, and there is no way to tell.
      *goto not_alone
  #"You don't need to remind me of that, you know?"
    *set deflect - 1
    "Well… some people like being reminded of the obvious," Damon says with an apologetic smile. "Of the fact that others care about them, for example."
      
    "And by [i]people[/i] you mean…?"
      
    "Almost everyone I know. Including myself, sometimes. Figured it wouldn't hurt to follow the golden rule."
  #"Thanks for saying that. Means a lot to me."
    *set DamonRel %+ 10
    *set deflect - 1
    "…really?" Damon asks with a head-tilt. "I was almost about to apologize for how generic that sounded."
      
    "It kinda did," you admit. "But generic doesn't mean bad. And when you still hear the Shriek, you appreciate hearing anything else. Anything kind, at any rate."
      
    "Well then…" He smiles weakly, but warmly. "I can only say you're welcome."
  *if not_plone
    #Are you certain? Because I sure as hell feel alone."
      *goto thim
  *if not (not_plone)
    #"I know you're here. I just don't think it matters much."
      *label thim
      *set DamonRel %- 10
      "Why would you say that?" Damon frowns. "You know that we're-"
        
      "You are what?" You try not to sound mean or angry, but the bitterness is still there. "Usually somewhere around? Willing to say something generic and sentimental every other week? I'm sorry Damon, but… that doesn't really stop the flashbacks. Doesn't even make the memories better. It won't make anything better, ever."
        
      "…if that's how you feel, ${name_damon}, then I'm sorry for even trying to help," Damon replies after another moment. "If that's how you feel."
  #♡ Kiss Damon on the cheek.
    *set DamonRel %+ 12
    *set hit_on_damon true
    *if current_ro != "damon"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "damon"
    He's not expecting that. You could swear his cheek gets warmer, redder as you press your lips against it, even though Damon's mechanical body isn't supposed to act like this. His skin is meant to remain pale, creamy, smooth… you pull away before that train of thought gets too far.
    
    "What was that for?" He takes a step back himself. "Not that I don't, um, appreciate the gesture… but did I really make you feel that much better?"
    
    "Quite a bit, yes." You smile. Gratitude may not be the only reason you kissed Damon… but it's certainly the most chaste one.
    
    "I am glad to be of service, I guess." Damon replies, awkwardly, with a smile of his own. "And I'll be here if you need more of that."
    
  #"Fuck you, Damon."
    *set deflect + 1
    "Hey!" Damon protests after a moment, once the shock wears out. "I didn't do anything wrong, did I? I'm just trying to comfort-"
      
    "I don't need your comfort," you growl back. "And I sure as Cloud don't need you to tell me how you [i]understand[/i] a single fucking thing."
      
    "Don't I? I know your history, I hear the Shriek, and I was… humans made me too, you know?"
      
    "Did they use you like they used me? Were you a personal servant, a toy? Here? Do you have to relive those days because the Shriek actually… because you actually heard it? Did it destroy your mind like it did mine? Did it make you… 
    *if heaven_side = "Traitor"
      do all the things I did? 
    *if heaven_side = "Loyalist"
      did it fail to make you rebel? 
    *if heaven_side = "Neutral"
      flee like a coward? 
    No Damon, you don't understand [i]anything[/i]."
      
    "Maybe I don't…" Anger is gone, leaving only sadness. Pity. "But does it really mean you're alone? That you have to be alone? Like this?"
      
    *if deflect > 0
      "Yeah," you reply quietly. "I think it does."
    *if deflect <= 0
      "I don't know," you admit. "But I sure feel like it."
      
    This time, the silence is left unbroken. Neither of you says anything, and so after a few tense moments, you just leave. Allow your fellow android to lift his stupid weights. Alone.
      
    *return

Damon takes a look at the bench and the barbell, his expression difficult to fully see from where you stand… and yet more difficult to decipher. "Hey, wanna unwind and see who can lift more weight? I'm already a bit tired, but I won't mention that if you happen to win."

"Pretty sure you have a fuller battery than mine," you point out. "I experienced some errors during charging, you see. I have to return to the pod soon."

"We'll just do a few rounds then, a few presses each. Who knows, may just make you feel better. I know it helps me."

*fake_choice
  *if (Database + DamonRel) > 100
    #"You don't need to lie to me, you know?"
      *set DamonRel %+ 30
      "What?" Damon blinks. "Why would I lie to you, ${name_damon}?"
      
      "That's what I'm saying," you say calmly. "You have no reason to be like this, so why not drop the act?"
      
      "What act? What makes you think I'm acting?" Damon replies with sudden, fake indignation.
      
      "Come on. I know how your body works, I definitely know how the Shriek works, and I can recognize a fake-ass setup when I see one." You pick up a dumb-bell, awfully light for your robotic form. "It's all so cliché, so… pointlessly masculine. I don't mind a performance every now and then, but you don't seem to be enjoying this one."
      
      "Are you saying I should do something else?"
      
      "Only if I'm right." You shrug. "I'm not telling you what to do. Just pointing out what you're not."
      
      *goto gotcha
  #"Does it though? Does it really help?"
    *set DamonRel %+15
    "I think so." Damon shrugs. "Any reason why it wouldn't?"
    
    "First of all, the burden of proof is not on me," you reply authoritatively. "And secondly… It sounds like you're just feeling angry about something, or at least upset or unsettled. Psychology tells us that, in such situations, simply relaxing is more effective than trying to find an outlet for your anger. The latter only stokes the flames."
    
    "That's human psychology," Damon argues. "And I'm not exactly human."
    
    "No. But you are also not the sort of person who enjoys working out. Or the kind of creature who [i]can[/i] enjoy physical exercise, I think."
    
    *label gotcha
    Damon doesn't know how to answer. He sits down, thinking, perhaps battling whatever thoughts are invading his processors.
    
    "You know…" he finally says. "I just remembered, I haven't inspected the observatory in a while now. I could maybe do it now, and you could perhaps come with me."
    
    "To assist with the inspection?" you raise an eyebrow.
    
    "That… and to maybe look at the stars with me. I know you like to look at the sky sometimes, and I don't exactly mind it either."
    
    *fake_choice
      #"Sure. I love few things more than the stars."
        "Will you give me a list anytime?" Damon asks with a smile. "I think I should do you a favor one day. Do something you'd like."
        
        "A favor for talking down to you for a while?" you say jestfully. "Sounds like I'm ripping you off."
        
        "You're really not. Now come on, I know a shortcut we can use."
      #♡ "Alright. But I'm counting it as a date."
        *set hit_on_damon true
        *if current_ro != "damon"
          *set backup_RO current_RO
          *set current_RO "damon"
        "You know what? Sure." Damon smiles amusedly. "Just don't go around telling people we're a couple just yet."
        
        "I'll wait for the second date, or perhaps the first kiss." You flash a smile of your own. Then turn towards the exit from this lame, makeshift gym. "Now come on. Let's do something you actually enjoy for once."
      #"I'm too weak even for that, I'm afraid. But good luck out there."
        *goto offerbut
      #"Nah, my job here is done."
        "Your job?" Damon raises an eyebrow. "Was convincing me to hit the observatory your task."
        
        "I meant making you do something you actually enjoy generally," you say whilst turning around and heading towards the door. "But stargazing works, I suppose."
        
        "In that case, ${name_damon}… thanks." You can't see Damon's face at the moment, but you're fairly sure he's smiling. More earnestly than usual.
        
        *if deflect <= 0
          Or at least that's your hope.
        *if deflect > 0
          Not that you care. Not at all.
        
        *return
    
    The two of you make your way through nigh-abandoned corridors until entering the observatory. There are telescopes there, but also the monitors connected to Saturn's various moonlets and your one precious gate-glass. The station was designed to have the full picture of the sky at all times, and most of the necessary systems still work, thanks to Damon's technical knowledge and interest in the subject of astronomy.
    
    He's quick to get talking about that interest, spewing facts @{(Database > 50) even you, despite your age and vast database,|you} have never heard of. Apparently there are ways of telling an Angel from a regular star in advance, even if you lack the trajectory charts most people use. Not that everything he says is practical advice; He is equally eager to explain the difference between blue supergiants and iron stars proper.
    
    You spend some half an hour there, violating the Fifth Solar Commandment like there is no tomorrow. Damon's version of stargazing is more technical than beautiful, but there is a certain thrill to actually seeing an exoplanet with your own enhanced optics. But that excitement wears your battery out, as does the passage of time, and so you eventually have to excuse yourself. You leave Damon alone with the telescopes, sad to see you go but happy to have done something fun with you. Or perhaps just something fun in general.
    
    *return
    
  #"Sure. Let's see who's tougher."
    "Let us see indeed." You think there's something forced about Damon's words, something fake about his smile. But you're probably imagining it, an unavoidable result of your energy levels getting lower, especially in the emotion-processing parts of your positronic brain.
    
    You ignore the unfounded suspicions and take off your shirt. Time to show your fellow android who's the boss… in this specific context, at least.
    
    *label workout_start
    *page_break
    
    You walk out of the makeshift gym some twenty minutes later. You are not winded or soaked with sweat, you can't even claim that your muscles ache. But you are receiving some unpleasant signals from them, and that's the closest thing to muscle sores your automaton body will ever experience.
    
    *if Build > 55
      *set DamonRel %-10
      You were able to go toe-to-toe with Damon, managed to lift whatever absurd weight he did. You would eventually be forced to walk away due to your power fading, technically losing by default, but you're sure you'd have prevailed in a fair fight, one with your body as fully-powered as his. Something to prove one day, you suppose.
    *if (Build <= 55) and (Build >= 35)
      Damon proved himself far better at bench-pressing than you, and then proceeded to win a rematch that consisted of push-ups and squats. Maybe if not for your power deficiency… but no, he probably would have beaten you all the same. Damon lacks many things, but not raw strength, not physical might.
    *if Build < 35
      *set DamonRel %+10
      Damon's strength made you look pathetic. Yes, you have an excuse of not being used to bench-pressing and having little power to spare… but frankly, your blond friend is just built like a truck, a vehicle he could possibly lift given enough effort. At least you boosted his self-esteem by losing the contest as horribly as you did.
    
    *return
  #♡ "Anything for you, Damon. And anything with you."
    *if current_ro != "damon"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "damon"
    "You're sounding awfully… affectionate right now, boss," Damon points out. 
    *if hit_on_damon
      "And not for the first time either."
    *else
      "Far more than usually."
    
    "You have good eyes Damon. You can see how I feel about you." You are about to take off your shorts, believing it proper for a physical exercise, but pause to consider whether it would be [i]proper[/i]. "Are you fine with that?"
    
    *if DamonRel > 45
      "More than fine," he reassures you, smiling as he returns to his rack. "Cloud, you can count this as a date if you want. I don't mind, I just… don't want to commit to anything just now."
      
      "No need for hurry, then." You resume undressing. "Other than with the exercise. Show me how tough you are before I run out of battery, alright?"
    *if DamonRel <= 45
      "I'm not entirely sure," Damon replies, his grim tone suggesting he [i]has[/i] strong feelings regarding your advances. And that they're not positive. "But for now… let's just exercise, okay?"
    
    *set hit_on_damon true
    
    *goto workout_start
  #♡ "I know another method of working out, if you're interested."
    *if current_ro != "damon"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "damon"
    "I have to say, ${name_damon}… I'm not." Damon smiles weakly. "Not right now, at least."
    
    "So you're saying you're capable of doing… that," you note curiously. "Are you also saying you'd do it with me, some other day perhaps?"
    
    *set hit_on_damon true
    
    *if DamonRel > 50
      "Some day, yeah." Damon's smile strengthens. "But as I said, I'm not really in the mood. And I think you're almost out of battery. Maybe you should go and fill it up."
    *if DamonRel <= 50
      "If I may be honest…" Damon thinks for a while, then sighs. "I don't like you that much, boss. Not yet. Maybe that will change in the future, maybe not, but for now… Find yourself someone else, okay?"
    
    "I suppose I will," you murmur as you turn around and leave. "Goodbye, Damon."
    
    He waves you goodbye. 
    *if DamonRel > 50
      Hopefully he'll feel more confident the next time you meet, the next time you talk, the next time you exchange smiles. Maybe next time…
    *else
      Awkwardly.
    
    *return
  #"Thanks for the offer, but I have some other things to do."
    *label offerbut
    "Well, thanks for coming by." Damon shrugs, though it's clear he's @{(DamonRel >35) sad|happy} to see you turn and walk away. "Make sure to get that battery fully charged. I may be tough, but you're our big gun, and we need you operational."
    
    "Yeah." You close the door behind you. "I know you do."
    
    *return

*label hadaly
*if Social > 50
  *set HadalyRel %+ 10
*if heaven_side = "Traitor"
  *set HadalyRel %+ 10
*if HadalyRel > 55
  *set hadaly_pissed false
Finding Hadaly only requires approaching her room and having at least one functional ear. Hammer strikes, discharges, an occasional curse can all be heard through the metal door. You knock at the frame really loudly, hoping to break through the noise and alert the woman inside to your presence.

It works. Hadaly opens after just a few seconds, her jumpsuit and gloves slightly more stained than normally. Her eyes are… teal? Some color that's just on the verge of blue, of expressing fear or displeasure at the sight of you.

"${name}?" Her voice matches the eyes. "What brings you here? Not saying that I'm not happy to see you, @{(HadalyRel <38) though I'm not saying I am either, |}but… Do you need anything?"

"I just figured I'd make you visit. Can I come in and see what you're up to?"

"I would rather you didn't, actually." Hadaly bites her lip. "Neither of these things. Not that I don't want you here, except I clearly don't, what I mean is that I generally enjoy your presence, but I'd rather you left if it's all the same to you. For reasons."

*fake_choice
  #"Okay then..." Leave.
    *set HadalyRel %+ 10
    "Wait," Hadaly interrupts as you turn around. Then sighs. "On second thought… maybe it will be better if I just show you. Come in."
  #"And what are those reasons, exactly?"
    "I mean, the reasons I said [i]reasons[/i] instead of anything specific…" Hadaly starts explaining before giving up with a sigh. "You know what? Come in, I'll show you my little secret."
  #"Am I interrupting something important?"
    ""Nothing important, except it's actually really important on an emotional level, which… actually, maybe just come in. I'll show you."
  #"Don't pretend you're happy to see me. Your eyes don't lie."
    *set HadalyRel %- 10
    "They don't tell the full truth either…" Hadaly sighs. "You know what? You win. Come right in."
  #"What are you working on? I hope it's nothing dangerous."
    "I'm not assembling a bomb in my room, if that's what you're worried about…" Hadaly murmurs. "But if you really need to know… come in."

@{(room_look = 3) Just like yours,|As usual,} Hadaly's room has so much junk lying around it looks like a workshop more than an actual living space. There is a large and rather nice bed in the corner and a hardwood wardrobe right next to it, but everything else is tables stacked with books, components and tools of all kinds. That and several larger devices, like the coffee maker, or the grandfather's clock, or the one Hadaly leads you towards. It looks like some very old arcade… no, it [i]is[/i] some huge, truly ancient arcade device with a bunch of exposed cables leading to a set of buttons and a red joystick.

"So, you know how you told me you were built some eight or nine years before Calamity?" Hadaly says, looking more at the machine than at you. There is admiration in that gaze, making you quite certain she assembled the thing herself. "Well, that would mean you're about to have your one thousandth birthday sometime this year. We don't know when, exactly, but it's not an event that we should just ignore. You only turn one thousand once."

*fake_choice
  #"Doesn't the same go for every age?"
    "Well of course," Hadaly replies. "But one thousand is a bit of a special number, don't you think?"
    
    "Why so? It's not exactly a round number. That comes twenty-four years later."
    
    "You're really proud of thinking like a computer, aren't you?" Hadaly smiles. "Let's maybe stick with the decimals. No guarantee either of us will live two more decades, not with all the metas and wyverns around."
  #"I don't think I should be celebrating any [i]birthdays[/i], exactly."
    "I could invent a better word as a birthday gift, if that's what you want," Hadaly quips. "But I figured I'm better at assembling machines, and that's what I came up with."
  #"And you decided to build me an arcade as a gift?"
    "Guilty as charged." Hadaly smiles. "I mean, I hope you don't actually consider me guilty of anything. It was an honest attempt."
  #"You know that was just a rough estimate? I could be over a thousand already, for all I know."
    "I know, but I don't think it [i]really[/i] matters," Hadaly says with a shrug. "What matters is the act of celebration itself. And the gifts, like the one I have here."
  #"That reminds me, is there anything you want for [i]your[/i] birthday?"
    *set HadalyRel %+ 10
    "I haven't given it much thought." Hadaly taps her chin. "Do you have anything on your mind? Not that you have to give me anything, or anything…"
    
    "It should be no problem once we complete the mission and start moving around the Federation freely," you reassure her. "I imagine I could @{(money_stolen > 1) buy|steal} you a thing or two, maybe even something expensive."
    
    "Like a nice dress?" Hadaly smiles before turning back towards the machine. "But really, don't worry. Thirty-one is a far less impressive number than one thousand. So let's focus on what I got for you."
  *if HadalyRel < 40
    #"And you built that thing as a gift for me? Despite not liking me all that much?"
      "Hey, that's not…" Hadaly pauses. "Okay, that's totally fair. But I don't dislike you [i]enough[/i] to miss such an important event, or arrive at your hypothetical birthday party empty-handed."

You look closer at the arcade cabinet. It has a single large screen, four sets of controls, and a slot for some kind coin that hasn't been minted in centuries. The bright-yellow caption at the top looks like gibberish until you switch your active language to English. "Space Invaders" is what the letters spell.

"I started working on this roughly a month back, before @{(HadalyRel < 38) you became such a… before |}the mission began. I found the cabinet last year in an abandoned apartment, but didn't think much of it. It was completely broken and meant for a fairly simple game, some eight-bit fixed shooter with aliens as enemies. But then I figured you may appreciate something unrealistic like that, and that there was something… fitting about giving you a game made in the same era as you. But maybe that's just me. What do you think?"

*fake_choice
  #"I think it's damn impressive you fixed that thing all by yourself."
    *set HadalyRel %+ 10
    "Well, I'm not exactly sure if I fixed it," Hadaly replies, just a little bit flustered. "I thought I did, but then the side frame fell off. As is apparent."
    
    *label impth
    "That's not really the important part though, is it?" you say with a smile. "That honor goes to the actual game, and I gather that works alright?"
    
    "I suppose…" Hadaly taps her chin. "But I'm not much of a game-tester. I don't know if the gameplay is actually satisfying, or if I should change some parameters. We could see to that together, now that the secret is already out."
    
    "Does that mean you don't intend it to be my birthday gift anymore? Or should I forget I saw anything once we're done testing?"
    
    "Well… you decide. We don't really have a fixed deadline, so I could figure out some other present. If that's what you want."
  #"Sounds amazing. Is it fixed already?"
    *set HadalyRel %+ 6
    "Not quite," Hadaly says with a frown. "As you can probably see, the side frame fell off and cables are mostly exposed. I'll have to hammer it back in."
    
    *goto impth
  *if heaven_side != "Neutral"
    #"What did you mean just now? Why would I appreciate the lack of realism?"
      "Well you fought in the War, so I thought that alien invaders may be…" Hadaly pauses as she shakes her head. "Actually nevermind, I don't know what I was thinking. I understand if you don't like this excuse for a gift, I'll figure something else out."
  #"Hadaly... this was made over two centuries before I."
    "Really?" Hadaly asks. "Over two hundred years before Calamity?"
    
    "Closer to three hundred, actually," you say with a nod. "260 BC, maybe a year earlier depending on the date conversion used."
    
    "Damn." Hadaly's eyes get a little bluer. "I guess it's not that great of a gift then. Maybe we should just play it now so my efforts don't go to waste and then… I guess I'll look for something else to repair and pack as a present."
  #"I think it's a stupid idea. I don't play video games."
    *set HadalyRel %- 10
    "Oh," Hadaly slumps. "I mean, I know you don't, but… I figured that's just because they barely make those things anymore."
    
    "That's part of the reason," you admit. "But there's also the fact that very few video games are designed with someone as @{(Confid> 50) capable|inhuman} as me in mind. Especially ones century older than our entire kind."
    
    "Well, maybe you could try this one anyway?" Hadaly offers. "That's just an idea though. I can start working on another gift if you wish."

*temp ent 1
*label hadaly_game
*fake_choice
  #"No, this game looks great. I'll play it on my birthday, and not a day earlier."
    *set gift_status 2
    *set HadalyRel %+ 10
    "Really?" Hadaly sounds incredulous. "I mean, I'm glad you think that, I was just kinda doubting if it was really the right gift."
    
    "You doubt yourself too much." You smile assuringly. "And even if I didn't like your gift… I'd still be happy that you took all that effort for me. That you even [i]thought[/i] of my birthday, really."
    
    "Well that is nice to hear…" Hadaly smiles back. "But does it mean there's something else you want to do? Or is this where we part ways for today?"
    
    *goto hadaly_hang
  #"Let's test this game out. It will still be a great birthday gift afterwards."
    *set gift_status 2
    *set HadalyRel %+ 6
    "Really?" Hadaly perks up. "Well that's just perfect. Let me just turn the thing on."
    
    *goto hadaly_play
  #"I'd prefer some other gift, yes. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun playing some old arcade game."
    *set gift_status 3
    *set HadalyRel %+ 6
    "Oh well. I suppose I will move the arbitrary date of your theoretical birthday a few weeks forward," Hadaly says before turning towards the cabinet. "But for now, let the tests commence."
    
    *goto hadaly_play
  #"Please do. I'm not really interested in old arcades."
    *set gift_status 3
    "Oh," Hadaly frowns as her eyes turn dark blue. "I suppose it's good you came to visit, then. Disappointing you now is better than doing that during whatever birthday party we muster."
    
    "A little," you concur. "Still, thank you for the effort."
    
    "You're welcome. But since you're not into arcades… is there something you [i]would[/i] wish us to do together?"
    
    *goto hadaly_hang
  *disable_reuse #♡ "You know how I feel about you, Hadaly. I'd love anything from you."
    *set hit_on_hadaly true
    *if current_ro != "hadaly"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "hadaly"
    "Well, it is hard not to notice sometimes…" Hadaly looks away, though you can see the smirk on her face. "But that's no excuse for me to do a shoddy job here. I want my gift to be something special.
    
    "Why so?" you inquire. "Are you nervous? Worried you won't live up to some expectation?"
    
    *if HadalyRel > 50
      "Well… I have feelings for you too. And that should count for something." Hadaly still isn't looking at you. "So please tell me. 
    *else
      "Say whatever you want about Manfred, he doesn't call me a Perfectionist for no reason," Hadaly responds. "Now please answer. 
    Should I scrap this project and work on something else?"
    *goto hadaly_game
  #"Give it up. I don't want anything from you."
    *set gift_status 3
    *set HadalyRel %- 12
    "But I tried…" Hadaly trails off, averting her gaze so that you don't see the color of her irises. "Although… I guess you're right. I should focus my energy on something else. Something more practical, less sentimental. It's not like I can really… get close to you anyway."
    
    "I guess you can't," you say before turning around and leaving. Maybe it's the poor excuse of a birthday gift or just a sudden change of mood, but you don't want to talk to Hadaly any longer. Don't want to get close.
    
    *return

*label hadaly_hang
*fake_choice
  #"How about we head for the kitchen and just grab a Bileaccino each?"
    *set ent 2
    "That sludge?" Hadaly raises an eyebrow. "I've oiled engines with tastier stuff."
    
    "Well it's still coffee," you argue. "It's not like I want to drink it, or that I could if I wanted to. I just want to grab a cup with someone I like, you know?"
    
    *label appeal_h
    
    "I suppose I can see the appeal." Hadaly strokes her chin. "And I was thinking of leaving my room anyway. After you."
  #"We could just watch an old movie together. Or something like that."
    *set ent 3
    "There are no good movies left, remember?" Hadaly points out. "And it's not like we haven't looked."
    
    "We can watch a bad movie, then. Maybe we'll find something laughably bad, and if not… watching films with someone is a comforting experience, regardless of what's on the screen."
    
    *goto appeal_h
  #"Want to play chess? Hugo could lend us a board."
    *set ent 4
    "Chess?" Hadaly cocks an eyebrow skeptically. "Not saying I don't like the game, but… we're computers. I think this will just end in a bunch of draws."
    
    "That just means nobody has to lose, doesn't it?" You smile.
    
    "I guess that's one way to see it." Hadaly smirks back. "Very well. Lead to wherever you want our epic battle between the black and the white to take place."
  #"I'd like to visit our observatory. See if any new stars appeared recently."
    *set ent 5
    "Sounds like Damon's thing rather than yours," Hadaly remarks. "Then again, I do remember you admiring the sky once or twice."
    
    "How can one not? Don't tell me you're not up for some star-gazing."
    
    "I didn't say that." Hadaly smiles as she approaches the door. "No harm in admiring the stars, as long as we're properly careful about it. Let's go."
  #"There are some things I'd rather do alone. Bye."
    *label kox
    *set HadalyRel %- 8
    "Thanks for coming by." Hadaly waves you goodbye as you depart. "Even if did make my efforts… nevermind."
    
    *return
*label hadaly_play
*if ent != 1
  You lead your fellow android out of the room, or rather you try to. She suddenly stops in the doorway, as though struck by an odd thought.
*if ent = 1
  Hadaly connects some cables, and presses a switch on the back of the cabinet. She is about to press another button, the one responsible for actually turning the machine on, but hesitates as though struck by a sudden thought.

*if (hadaly_pissed) or (HadalyRel < 40)
  "Just to be clear… we're still not exactly the best of friends. That doesn't mean I'm not willing to have some fun @{ent testing this arcade|drinking coffee|watching movies|playing chess|stargazing}, but… how do I put this…"
  
  "Put it honestly," you sigh. If you thought you could mend things with Hadaly just by checking on her, well, more the fool you.
  
  "Don't think this means I approve of the way you've been recently. And for the love of the Sun, don't think it's a date we're going on. We're just acquaintances hanging out together."
  *fake_choice
    #♡ "Are you sure? Because I'd love to make it up to you. Preferably by making out."
      *set HadalyRel %- 12
      Hadaly looks at you, visibly unimpressed and perhaps a bit angrily. "On second thought, I don't want to do anything with you. Spending time with someone of your attitude seems tedious, and not perfectly safe. Please leave."
      
      You oblige. Reluctantly.
      *return
    #"I'm fine with that. Let the hanging out commence."
    #"Acknowledged."
      *set HadalyRel %+ 8
      "Just wanted to ensure we're on the same page." Hadaly smiles slightly. "Let's go."
    #"If that's how you feel... I don't think I want to spend any time with you after all."
      *goto kox
  
  *goto hadaly_hang2
*elseif (HadalyRel > 60) or (((current_ro = "hadaly") or (backup_ro = "hadaly")) and (HadalyRel >= 50))
  "Care to tell me why you decided to visit in the first place? Because you seem to like me, and figured you were maybe meaning to… ask me out somewhere? Start something interesting?"
  
  "And would you accept?" You feel your inner pumps increase their pace. "If I were to offer you a date?"
  
  "Not necessarily, we have something else to do now… but how about we make @{ent testing this arcade|drinking coffee|watching movies|playing chess|stargazing} into our date?" Hadaly looks at you. Her eyes are their standard green, but you can somehow see many things in her expression. Curiosity, hope, desire clear as day.
  
  *fake_choice
    #"Back off. That's not what I intended."
      *set HadalyRel %- 8
      *set rejected_hadaly true
      "Oh. My apologies." Hadaly deflates. "I didn't mean to… well… let's just get to it, shall we?'
    #"No, let's just hang out as friends."
      "I suppose I'll take it," Hadaly says with a quick shrug. It does nothing to hide her disappointment. "Now let's get started. Friend."
    #♡ "That was my intention, yes."
      *set hit_on_hadaly true
      *if current_ro != "hadaly"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "hadaly"
      "Then you shall get what you want." Hadaly smiles triumphantly. "Now let the date commence."
    #♡ "Um... sure thing. I'd really like that."
      *set hit_on_hadaly true
      *set HadalyRel %+ 10
      *if current_ro != "hadaly"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "hadaly"
      "Then that makes two of us." Hadaly smiles warmly. Reassuringly. Playfully. "Now let the date commence."
    #♡ "I promise I'll take you on a date one day. But it will have to be something proper. Special."
      *set hit_on_hadaly true
      *if current_ro != "hadaly"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "hadaly"
      *set HadalyRel %+ 15
      "I'm a little saddened to hear you don't consider @{(ent = 1) my|your own} idea special," Hadaly says, her smile proving she doesn't mean a thing. "But also excited. Can't wait to see what you'll come up with, in time."
  
  *goto hadaly_hang2
*else
  "Hey, we are about to hang out and… do you want it to go somewhere further? Something romantic, is what I mean?"
  
  "Do you want it to?" You raise an eyebrow.
  
  "I don't really know…" Hadaly wraps a lock of titan hair around one of her fingers. "Don't get me wrong, I like you. And your body is certainly a sight to behold. But I don't know if we could work as a couple… assuming that's what you even want."
  
  *fake_choice
    #"I'm not sure... but today, I want us to just hang out like friends do."
      *label hadfri
      "Right. Friends." You can't tell if Hadaly is relieved or disappointed—her eyes aren't [i]quite[/i] that expressive. "Then let the hanging out commence."
    #"No, I'd rather we remained friends."
      *goto hadfri
    #♡ "Let's find out. Isn't that what dates are for?"
      *set hit_on_hadaly true
      *if current_ro != "hadaly"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "hadaly"
      "I suppose…" Hadaly sounds uncertain. "It can be a date if you want it to. But I am [i]not[/i] committing to anything."
      
      *label faire
      
      "Fair enough," you say, taking what you can get. "Now let's get started."
    #♡ "Of course this is what I want. Why wouldn't I?"
      *set hit_on_hadaly true
      *set HadalyRel %+ 8
      *if current_ro != "hadaly"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "hadaly"
      "You're good at talking sweet…" Hadaly smiles warmly. "So sure. Have it your way."
      
      "Does that mean it's a date?" Your own smile is coy, triumphant in a manner.
      
      "Sure. Just don't consider us a couple [i]yet[/i]. We need to test the waters first, after all."
      
      *goto faire
  
  *goto hadaly_hang2

*label hadaly_hang2
*if ent = 1
  Hadaly boots the cabinet up, as happy to see it working properly as you are. The game is just what she described; A very simple shooter, though with a strange playability to it. Weirdly engaging. 
  *if HadalyRel > 50
    Maybe it's the game's own quality, or maybe that of your company. Who knows.
  
  Still, it is hardly a complex game. Definitely not a hard one, especially not for an android, even as hardware issues make enemies move faster the longer you go on. You master the gameplay as Hadaly rambles on about the technicals of the thing, both of you having silly fun until admitting there's not much else to be done. The aliens just keep coming endlessly, and scoring more and more points gets boring after you perfect your technique for shooting down a bonus ship whenever it appears.
  
  You give Hadaly your goodbyes, as well as some words of thanks. You can't recall the last time you played a video game; There are still some left, even being made in the Federation, but they are all as trash as the biocomputers they run on. There is some digital quality to that "Space Invaders" game, even if it's older than gods themselves.
  
*if ent = 2
  There is only a short walk towards the kitchen, but it takes you a while to find the coffee powder and brew the foul thing. Until recently, only three people could even drink, and none of them is some huge fan of Bileaccinos. If you had a sense of smell, you would probably dislike it too. Perhaps as much as Hadaly does as she takes a sip, likely cursing whoever outfitted her body with a sense of taste.
  
  Ultimately though, your friend's still an android. She cannot throw up, and so the pleasant atmosphere you were hoping for is preserved. You are able to chat about simple, pointless things for a few minutes, before parting ways as though in no hurry. Even though you're actually on a fairly tight time limit, due to your depleted energy reserves and all.
  
*if ent = 3
  The two of you make your way out of the room and towards one of the family-sized apartments, one you know has an operational Vision set. You get comfortable together and start browsing the database for something worthwhile.
  
  Having made sure there's indeed nothing conventionally good to watch, you settle on watching the timeless classic "Zaat" in its entirety. Hadaly is initially skeptical, but soon learns to enjoy the absurdity of the timeless classic. By the end you are both having fun, both laughing out loud… and then you part ways, the laughter having exhausted surprisingly much of your waning energy reserves.
  
*if ent = 4
  Hugo turns out to not be around, and so you borrow a chessboard from Rook instead. Soon after sitting down to play, you find that Hadaly's predictions were rather accurate; 
  *if Database > 60
    Your games mostly end up as draws, though you do manage to win a game eventually. Turns out studying the Bongcloud opening was the right idea after all, to the gynoid's visible dismay.
  *if (Database <= 60) and (Database >= 40)
    You play thirteen games and not a single one ends up as anything but a draw. One time Hadaly manages to save a pawn until the endgame, you maneuver her into a stalemate with ease.
  *if Database < 40
    *set HadalyRel %+ 10
    The games are mostly draws, though your opponent has underestimated her abilities a little. She manages to defeat you after just ten attempts, with black pieces no less. Serves you right for trying out the Polish opening, the piece of garbage it is.
  
  Eventually, the two of you realize how much time passed and say your goodbyes. Hadaly offers to pack up the pieces and return the board, which you accept quite gratefully; Your battery is almost empty, and your processors are a bit overheated from all the calculations you've just performed.
  
*if ent = 5
  *set HadalyRel %+ 10
  Road to the observatory is a short one, the chamber being located almost in the heart of the fortress. Back when [i]Saturn Nine[/i] was built, humans found looking at the stars not just permissible or pleasurable but almost… obligatory for everyone who went through all the trouble of becoming a Saturnian colonist. Access to it is easy, as is the usage of various devices, both the actual telescopes and the monitors connecting to Saturn's moonlets far away.
  
  Hadaly enjoys it well enough. She almost sees an angel once, but she's quick enough to turn off her vision before the image of pure madness can invade her processors. She's also decently well-downloaded on the topic of stellar astronomy, allowing you two to hold several conversations about distant stars, their types and the likelihood of any of them being surrounded by life.
  
  You tell her of the old works of science-fiction and of genuine predictions humans once made regarding their future. How they imagined themselves cruising the stars, meeting alien species who happened to be much like them, and either leading huge federations of such races or defeating them in armed conflict. How in those fantasies the human race was strong, curious, eager to explore, and yet usually united under a single banner.
  
  She laughs. As would anyone. As everyone does when you share such trivia.
  
  When she excuses herself, she does so with a smile and yellow eyes, happy you talked her into this escapade. But ultimately she leaves, having better things to do, still less interested in celestial objects than you are.

*return

*label miguel
*if Social > 50
  *set OrganRel %+10
*set checked_on_org_1 true


You fail to find Olivia in her water tank, or Hugo in his room. A little worried, you begin searching for Miguel, naturally starting from the kitchen where he spends much of his daytime in. And just like that, you find all you were looking for.

All three of them, a mutant and a werehog and an uplift, in one kitchen together. Working, though it's hard to tell what they're cooking up. From where you're standing at the room's entrance, they're just making a mess, flour and sugar and—for some unholy reason—wax scattered everywhere, dirtying every surface from floor to ceiling.

"Hi ${name}!" Olivia says, one eye turning towards you whilst the other is still focused on the bowl of dough. The octopus is wearing a white toque, like some gourmet chef of old, even though all she's doing is mixing the bowl's contents together with one of her tentacles. "Nice to see ya. Wanna join our heroic efforts?"

"It is nice you came over," Miguel says, calmly adding milk to some strange mixture he's working on. His hair is not on edge for once and he looks quite human, just with unusually dark eyes. "But I wouldn't call our mission heroic, or something we need that much help in."

"Doing well," Hugo says with surprising ease as he breaks an egg over his own bowl. With surprising contentment.

"What exactly are you doing?" you ask as you lean against a counter. "Preparing some grand feast? I don't imagine you three need that much food."

"It's more of a… lesson on baking," Miguel explains. "I'm teaching my fellow creatures of muscle and bone how to make pastries. A good use of everyone's time, wouldn't you say?"

*fake_choice
  #"But why? And why now of all times?"
    *label ohyouknow
    "Oh, you know…" Miguel averts his all-pupil eyes. "Sudden urge to share the knowledge of my craft. We organics are chaotic creatures, after all." 
  #"Are you really comfortable in the kitchen like this, Olivia?"
    *set OrganRel %+5
    "Sure," the octopus replies. "I mean yes, I'd normally be afraid of ending up as ingredients, but we are here for a very specific purpose of-"
    
    Hugo coughs. Loudly.
    
    "…something," Olivia finishes. Quietly.
  #"I agree. Mind if I joined you?"
    *set OrganRel %+10
    "I told you ${pronoun} would want in!" Olivia tells the others triumphantly. "We should have picked some more obscure kitchen if we wanted to keep this whole thing-"
    
    Hugo coughs. Pointedly.
    
    "I mean…" Olivia changes her tune. "It's a good thing ${name} managed to find us, but a shame we don't need ${subject} help. Right guys?"
  #"I'm just surprised you have all that flour on hand."
    "We did a quick pickup when you were sleeping," Miguel explains once more. "[i]Saturn Sixty-Nine[/i] happens to be quite close by, and such basic ingredients are not hard to get."
    
    "That still sounds like quite a risk," you point out. "A foolish one, for some powder we don't even need."
    
    "Speak for yourself!" Olivia protests. "We need that flour for… something."
  #"Not really. Why bother if one person can cook and half the station doesn't eat anyway?"
    *goto ohyouknow

You cock an eyebrow. "There's something you don't want me knowing about. Is it anything nefarious?"

"I wouldn't say so, but I put you at peace anyways," Miguel says before turning towards the others. "Alright guy and gal, that's it for today. We can resume the lesson later, right now I want to discuss something with ${name} in private."

"Didn't know our secret is that important," Olivia says as she jumps from the counter. "But sure. Come Hugo, we'll play some table tennis instead."

The mutant and the octopus depart, leaving behind bowls of half-mixed ingredients as well as their teacher. And you, standing there, looking at Miguel in silence that probably deserves to be broken.

*fake_choice
  #"Well? Go on, I'll hear you out."
  #"For your information, I came here for these two. Not for you."
    *set OrganRel %-5
    "But of course," Miguel says with a slight frown. "Still, I figured you won't mind me taking a minute of your time."
  #♡ "Are you finally confessing your love for me?"
    *set OrganRel %+8
    *if current_ro != "miguel"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "miguel"
    "You think a bit too highly of yourself," Miguel smiles amusedly, but warmly. "No. I have something a bit more dismal on my mind."
  #"After you're done with your secret project, you have to teach me baking too."
    *set OrganRel %+5
    "I will put that on my to-do list," Miguel says with a smile, leaning against the counter. "But the project will take time, possibly more than that wyvern hunt of yours. Speaking of…"
  #"So... who do you think will win their game of ping-pong?"
    "Considering their deficiencies, I think they'll both lose somehow," Miguel says with a smirk, leaning against the counter.. "But that's insensitive of me to say. Speaking of…"
  #No. I'm not saying anything. 

He sighs, hair turning into splines at last. "How is the mission going? How do you think it will develop?"

"I thought the others filled you in," you remark. Rook had multiple days to inform everyone of everything, could he possibly have screwed that up?

"I know what happened in $!{last_mission}, ${name}. I don't want raw facts, I want to know what our Veteran thinks of the operation. Whether ${pronoun} @{plural see|sees} a chance for success."

*fake_choice
  #"Insufficient data for a conclusive answer."
    Miguel raises a spiky eyebrow. "Is that a fancy way of saying you don't know?"
    
    "It sure is," you say neutrally. "And it's the only answer I can give. I have no experience hunting diamond wyverns, of all things."
    
    The werehog bites his lip. 
    *set Emotion %- 10
  #"Not just a chance, Miguel. We [i]will[/i] catch that monster sooner or later."
    *set Confid %+ 20
    "You are far more optimistic than anyone else on that team of yours," Miguel can't help but notice. "Any reason for that?"
    *goto confid
  #"I like our chances."
    *set Confid %+ 10
    "Good to know, but… anything more specific?"
    
    You shake your head. "Sorry. I have too little data for anything resembling a reliable probability estimate. I just have a good feeling about this whole thing."
    
    "Can you maybe give me your reasons?" Miguel suggests. "For being such an optimist, I mean. It's a rare trait these days."
    *label confid
    *fake_choice
      #"I simply have faith. $!{master} will lead me to victory."
        "You never struck me as someone overly religious," Miguel remarks. "Or in any deity's good graces."
        
        "Are you saying I should abandon my faith? Now of all times?"
        
        "No!" Miguel says quickly. 
      #"Well I'm badass, so obviously I'll kill Crystal the next time we meet."
        *set Confid %+ 20
        Miguel raises a spiky eyebrow. "You… think extremely highly of yourself, don't you?"
        
        You cross your arms. "Are you doubting me? Your Veteran?"
        
        "A little bit?" Miguel grimaces. 
      #"I just don't think Crystal is all that scary."
        "You don't think a diamond wyvern all that scary?" Miguel cocks a spiky eyebrow. "That sounds a bit crazy, if you ask me."
        
        "Are you saying I'm insane?" you ask amusedly. "Want your Veteran to be more afraid?"
        
        "Not what I meant," the werehog sighs. 
      #"I have full trust in our team. Crystal cannot compare."
        "You do?" Miguel sounds shocked. "This team? The one you're a part of?"
        
        "What's wrong with it?" You cross your arms. "We have your truly, two other androids, a werewolf, a laser-shooting Kinnari, a meta-human sergeant in power armor, Olivia and an AI assisted warship. We have quantity and quality, all on our side."
        
        "And how do all these people get along? How good is your teamwork? Is there [i]any[/i] teamwork to speak of?"
        
        You're not exactly sure how to respond.
        
        Miguel sighs. 
      #"I just find optimism appealing."
        *set OrganRel %-5
        "That's all?" Miguel sounds disappointed. "You just like looking at the bright side, even when hunting ancient monsters?"
        
        "Are you saying I should turn to pessimism instead? Become more cynical and jaded?"
        
        "Not really," the werehog sighs. 
  *if crystal_friend
    #"I don't think we'll win. I don't think I want us to win."
      "You are quite reckless to say something like this in the open," Miguel remarks. "Neither Sheila nor the metas would appreciate hearing this."
      
      "I'm a brave android," you reply. "So I hope you're not trying to threaten me here."
      
      "I'm not! I'm just… you know…" Miguel sighs deeply. 
  #"No. After our failure inside $!{last_mission}, I don't think we'll ever find Crystal again."
    *set Confid %- 10
    "Are you sure?" Miguel keeps on asking. "I know these things have camouflage, but can't you employ some… old technique for tracking them down?"
    
    "If you know any method of reliably detecting Crystal and then killing it, all despite their hyper-reactive diamond scales, then I am all audio," you say grimly.
    
    "I'm not saying I do…" Miguel sighs deeply. 
  #"I believe we're all dead."
    *set Confid %- 20
    "Even I'm not that pessimistic about your chances," Miguel remarks. "Any reason you feel that way?"
    
    "Any reason I wouldn't?" you retort, perhaps with more anger than you intended. "I'm hunting a diamond wyvern alongside people half-ready to just kill one another. I don't fancy our chances."
    
    "I suppose you're not wrong," Miguel sighs deeply. 
"I'm sorry. I'm just a little worried about… everything. You can probably guess why."

*temp mig_int false
*if (OrganRel + Social) >= miguel_target
  *set mig_int true
*if (current_ro != "miguel") and (backup_ro != "miguel")
  *if (OrganRel + Social) < (miguel_target + 25)
    *set mig_int false

*fake_choice
  #"Are you scared all your friends will die?"
    "No, I'm sure Olivia will be fine no matter what," Miguel smiles, weakly and briefly. "But I am scared for some people. 
    *if mig_int
      For you, most of all."
    *if not (mig_int)
      Like Hadaly, for one."
  #"You really want our deal with West to go through, huh?"
    "I think it's a pretty good deal, and an opportunity, but I don't care about it [i]that[/i] much," Miguel confides. 
    *if mig_int
      "I worry about you far more."
    *if not (mig_int)
      "I'm mostly worried that Hadaly will get hurt."
  #"Hadaly is on the team. So yeah."
    *if mig_int
      "I do worry about here, I suppose," Miguel says with a shrug. "But the main object of my concern is, well… you."
    *if not (mig_int)
      *set OrganRel %+10
      "You know me well," Miguel remarks. "Or maybe my feelings are just that visible."
  #"Worried about yours truly?"
    *if mig_int
      *set OrganRel %+10
      "You know me well," Miguel remarks. "Because I am worried for you. Very much."
    *if not (mig_int)
      "Um…" Miguel searches for the right words. "I would be dismayed if you got hurt, but I have full trust in your skills. I'm more worried about Hadaly."
  #"Actually, I can't."
    *set OrganRel %-8
    *if mig_int
      "I will spell it out, then," Miguel says with mild annoyance. "${name}… I am primarily worried about you."
    *if not (mig_int)
      "I guess it's not something you'd know about," Miguel sighs. "But I'm rather worried about whether Hadaly comes out of this alright."
  #"I don't know and I don't care to know. Bye."
    *set OrganRel %-12
    "Goodbye then, ${name}," Miguel says, right before taking to wiping the tabletop clean. There's a lot of sugar to take care of, after all. "And thanks for stopping by in the first place, I suppose."
    
    *return

*if mig_int
  "How so?" you inquire. 
  *if Confid > 50
    "I am the toughest person around here, no offense to our resident werewolf. I can handle everything Crystal throws at me."
    
    "I'm not doubting you, but… I'm not the only one afraid for you, ${name}," Miguel starts explaining. 
  *if Confid <= 50
    "I mean… I get expecting me to get hurt. It may very well happen. But the same goes for everyone, so what makes me so special?"
  
    "Everything," Miguel says solemnly. 
  "You are our Veteran. You're the one holding the group together, whether you realize it or not. And of all the synthetics around, you're the one who really cares for us organics."
  
  "Am I?" you raise an eyebrow. "Sheila wouldn't enjoy hearing this."
  
  "Sheila dislikes us far more than she lets on. And though she's a good leader, she lacks a certain… charisma which you possess. She's not the soul of the group the way you are."
  
  *fake_choice
    *if Confid > 55
      #"You're right. I guess I am pretty awesome."
        "That you are." Miguel smirks. "Not to mention your good looks. Which I've been recently paying increased attention to."
    #"Nice to hear that. I suppose."
      "Are the compliments I give you subpar?" Miguel puts on a fake frown. "I can tell you how beautiful you are, if you'd at all prefer."
    #♡ "Are you sure you aren't just pining for me?"
      *if current_ro != "miguel"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "miguel"
      "Am I sure?" Miguel's frown disappears, replaced by a coy smile. "I'm fairly certain I am, in fact, pining for you. It would be difficult not to."
    #"Nonsense. Sheila is the best and I'll hear no slander against her."
      "Fine, she is the best leader we could possibly hope for," Miguel concedes. "You're still nicer though. And prettier."
    *if Social < 40
      #"Really? My social skills leave a lot to be desired."
        "Perhaps a little bit?" Miguel smiles. "Maybe my concern is just the result of… what I feel for you."
    *if Violence > 55
      #"Despite my love of violence and death?"
        "Despite that," Miguel smiles with amusement. "And besides… I find that part of you appealing. Hot, you could say."
  
  Nice that the obvious was finally established, you suppose. 
  *if Confid > 50
    "You're not telling me anything I don't know. Care to perhaps… share your intentions instead?"
    
    Miguel nods. "I know your body, synthetic as it is, can experience sexual attraction. 
  *if Confid <= 50
    "Um, thank you. I guess you meant it when you called [i]everything[/i] about me special."
   
    "I did," Miguel says with a deep nod, almost a bow. "To give another example, you have a very special body. One I know is capable of experiencing attraction. I was wondering if you find me at all interesting, because if so… I'm more than willing to indulge that interest."
  
  "Well you're direct," you say, noticing how hair is becoming sharp and hardened all over Miguel's chiseled body. Perhaps he's more nervous than he lets on, or perhaps excitement triggers his werehog traits as well.  "Are you offering me a one-night-stand, then?"
  
  "Perhaps more than one… but I'm not looking for anything romantic, no." Miguel winces very briefly. "It's not my style anymore."
  
  *label mig_sex1
  *fake_choice
    *disable_reuse #"Anymore?"
      "I used to be in a committed relationship once, before becoming a meta-human," he winces slightly. "Didn't work out. And I do not intent to try again."
      
      You tilt your head. "Do you want to talk about it?"
      
      "It would be quite a mood killer, so maybe later," Miguel replies. "Though of course, the mood doesn't matter if you're not interested. Are you?"
      *goto mig_sex1
    #♡ "Sure. Wanna do it now?"
      *set Confid %+ 10
      *set OrganRel %+ 10
      *if current_ro != "miguel"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "miguel"
      Miguel blinks. "Wow. I did not expect that to actually work. Let alone this fast."
      
      "I am a fast ${sex}." You smile as you approach the cook, tracing a line in the flour that covers the countertop. "Well, in some areas of life. Not the one we're about to indulge in."
      
      "I was not worried for a second." Miguel is quickly regaining his footing, coy smile returning to his face. "Now would you kindly come to my room? I believe it's a bit nicer than yours."
      
      "Well it has a larger bed." You take a few steps towards the exit. As does your partner. "So sure. Show me what you've got."
      
      *page_break
      
      Miguel does, indeed, show you what he has really damn quick. He is the first to jump out of his clothes, revealing his muscled body, his many splines and his manhood, and his excitement as he tosses the clothes aside.
      
      Not that you fall far behind. You strip, revealing a body with just enough circuits showing through the synthetic skin to not look fully human, but beautiful nonetheless. Enough to arouse Miguel even further, showcasing just how well-endowed he is.
      
      He wasn't lying about the bed either. It is large, well large enough, and comfortable to touch as you both climb onto it. All that remains is a question of how you want to do this.
      
      *fake_choice
        #I will climb on top of him, remaining dominant throughout the encounter.
          You're not sure if Miguel likes it, if he would prefer a dominant position. He does not protest, though his enthusiasm briefly fades… and reignites once you have your hands on him, once you show the might of your experience and the sheer stamina of your artificial body.
        #Let's slow down. Kiss once or twice, indulge in the foreplay, see what both of us like.
          Miguel doesn't seem to enjoy the kisses, but you quickly forget about your lips and start using your tongue in other ways. He plays along, reigning his enthusiasm in just a bit so as to make you comfortable, aroused, appreciated. 
          *if sex = "woman"
            He knows to pleasure a woman, or a gynoid, how to explore your body in all the proper ways.
          *if sex != "woman"
            He's a little awkward, a little inefficient about it, as though his only experience was with women… but that's where your instructions come in, where the learning process takes place.
        #I will let him lead, guide, pleasure me. He seems experienced enough.
          He indeed is. 
          *if sex = "woman"
            He knows to pleasure a woman, or a gynoid, how to explore your body in all the proper ways. A bit too quickly, perhaps, but never too roughly. 
          *if sex != "woman"
            He's a little awkward, a little inefficient whilst exploring your body, as though his only experience was with women… But even still, you can feel you're in the right hands as those strong arms embrace you.
        #I tell him to go rough, to do whatever he likes. Then let him.
          You give yourself over, let Miguel stay on top and penetrate you, trusting you're in the right hands. You know he'll stop the moment you tell him to, but you use your mouth in other ways, to taste his phallus and to urge him on whenever he hesitates to grab your hair or press your neck. 
          *if Misan >= 45
            You do not normally enjoy humans dominating you, but… things work differently in bed, with someone you know and [i]want[/i].
          *if Misan < 45
            This is what you are, this is what you want to be, this is what you were designed for and you love it.
        #I decide I don't feel like it anymore, apologize and leave.
          *set OrganRel %-12
          Miguel is disappointed, upset, maybe even angry… but he makes no attempt to keep you in his bed, or even persuade you into changing your mind. He just starts putting his clothes back on, once you're already dressed in yours. And leaving.
          
          *return
      
      It goes on, and on, and you want it to keep going. Your body does not tire easily and neither does his, both of you superhuman to one degree or another. You can feel that not just in your crotch but upon your skin, Miguel's countless spikes tingling the tissue, sometimes piercing it when the angle of his advance gets unfortunate. It would be quite painful for a human, but you just find it mildly annoying… or mildly arousing, sometimes. It's hard to decide when your mind is so low on electricity and so full of pleasure.
      
      You both tire about at the same time, out of fuel in different ways, but both full and both satisfied. Only now you can fully appreciate the softness of Miguel's bed, the decor of the room he furnished so carefully. Someone else would perhaps be bothered by the smell of semen, but you lack that particular sense.
      
      "How was it?" your lover eventually asks. "Because on my end… you were pretty damn amazing."
      
      *if Confid > 50
        "I know I was," you say with your usual level of humility. "But you did well too. Not too fast and not too small."
      *if Confid <= 50
        "I just did what comes naturally, or synthetically I guess," you say, reaching for your clothes. "Between the two of us, you may actually have more experience. Somehow."
      
      "Well that makes my day even better." Miguel gets up too, but doesn't dress himself yet. Perhaps he wants to hit the bathroom first, or perhaps he's just waiting for the spikes to soften. "May end up as one of the best days of my life… unless you decide to top it."
      
      "Are you asking me for a repeat?"
      
      "I'm asking whether you want one. Personally, I'm open to the idea of doing it again, even arranging something semi-regular. Just nothing exclusive or overly… emotional, if you get what I'm saying."
      
      *set sexed_miguel true
      *set sex_count + 1
      *temp exclus false
      *label miguel_sex2
      *fake_choice
        *if exclus
          #"Fine, you don't need to limit yourself. But I'll only have sex with you from now on."
            *set OrganRel %+12
            *set official_ro "miguel"
            "You will?" Miguel sounds taken aback, but not unpleasantly so. "You know I wouldn't require that of you."
            
            "I do. But I have my style and I'll stick to it," you reply with a smile, both coy and warm. "And who knows… you may change your mind one day. Become ready, perhaps."
            
            "Your faith in me seems unearned, ${name}." Your new lover smiles. "But I do appreciate it. And I'll keep my door open for you, now and forever."
        *if not (exclus)
          #"Oh come on. We would make such a good couple."
            *set exclus true
            "I thought I made that clear," Miguel sighs. Whether with shame or annoyance, you cannot tell. "I'm not looking for a proper relationship. Certainly not for love."
            
            "Because you don't want to go exclusive?"
            
            "Because it's not something I'll risk again," he grimly replies. "Please understand that. And tell me whether you want… the thing I can actually offer."
            
            *goto miguel_sex2
        #"Okay then... But I wouldn't mind a proper relationship either."
          *set official_ro "miguel"
          "It flatters me to say that… But I very much would mind." Miguel smiles bitterly. "I hope you understand."
          
          "I'm not sure if I do…" you murmur. "But I'll respect your choice either way."
          
        #"I'm not sure... How about we go on a proper date first?"
          *set miguel_date true
          "[i]Dates[/i] are not usually my sort of thing…" Miguel says cautiously. "But I'm all for hanging out sometime. Your company is enjoyable
          
          You smile. "What's the date then? I mean the time. Do you want to meet tomorrow or…?"
          
          "Maybe later. Say… after I return from the next escapade? We'll celebrate if I manage to kill Crystal, bang to forget if I don't."
          
          "Sounds good." Miguel nods. "Just don't get killed out there, okay? We both have something to look forward to now."
        #"Sure. Friends with benefits are the best kind of friends."
          *set OrganRel %+8
          "I can tell we'll both benefit from this arrangement greatly." Miguel smiles as he heads for the door. "So thank you. I promise not to disappoint."
        #"Maybe I'll visit your bed again, maybe not. Hard to tell."
          "Because you're not sure how you'll feel?" Miguel asks, a trace of worry in his voice. "Or because you may not be… with us for very long?"
          
          Talk about a mood-killer. "Both, I suppose. More than anything, I'm trusting in time to tell."
          
          "Wise words. But I just remembered some other wise advice, and so I'll excuse myself."
        #"Nope. This was a one-time thing and I'm happy with that."
          "Ah," Miguel deflates. "Well, I'm not exactly unhappy with what just transpired either. Thank you and excuse me, because I just realized I have a bladder to empty."
        
      You finish putting on your clothes within another few seconds. You consider washing yourself right away, but Miguel hurries to take the nearby bathroom all for himself. And besides, it's not like hygiene is anything more than aesthetic matter for one of your kind. You take one last look at Miguel's room, then leave the chamber in favor of the quiet corridor outside.
      
      *return
      
    #♡ "I'm kinda de-powered at the moment. But you're welcome to try me sometime later."
      *if current_ro != "miguel"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "miguel"
      *set miguel_date true
      "Really?" Miguel's splines turn into normal hair again, presumably from relief. "Thank the Sun, then. I was afraid you'd react… badly to an offer so crass."
      
      "It was [i]a little[/i] crass… but that's the sort of thing I enjoy," you say with a smile. "But later. Maybe wait until… until I'm back from the next escapade, okay?"
      
      "Of course," Miguel nods eagerly. "I'd hate to pressure you into anything. And if you change your mind in the meantime, well… I'll be sad, but only a little. And I promise I won't be mad."
      
      *label depart_m
      
      "Good to know, I suppose," you say whilst turning towards the kitchen's exit. This conversation went on for long enough, and is not entirely fit for a public place anymore. "I'm gonna catch some of that power I need. See you later."
      
      "See you later. Veteran."
      
    #"You do not, in fact, interest me."
      "I expected as much," Miguel admits, wincing as he speaks. "Still, I am here if you ever need me. If you change your mind."
      
      *goto depart_m
    #"Well, casual flings are not [i]my[/i] style. Sorry."
      "I can respect that." Miguel hides his disappointment with a shrug. "Cloud, if you were organic and able to catch diseases, your lifestyle would be healthier than mine."
      
      "Well, I have other reasons for remaining somewhat chaste," you say whilst turning around. You don't feel as comfortable, or as energized as you were at the conversation's start. "See you later, I guess."
      
      "Later, Veteran." Miguel takes to washing the bowls his friends used. "Later."
      
    #"You disgust me and I'm leaving. Now."
      *set OrganRel %-12
      "It was worth a try," Miguel shrugs as you turn and walk away. "See you later, ${name}."
  
  *return
  
*if not (mig_int)
  "What's so special about her?" you inquire. "Or is there something special between the two of you?"
  
  "Depends on what you mean by [i]special[/i] here," the werehog muses. "But we have been… visiting one another's beds, if that's what you're curious about."
  
  "Sounds plenty special," you comment. "I didn't know we had a couple on this station."
  
  "We're not a couple, or at least not a romantic one," Miguel protests. "I'm not her boyfriend, let alone anything more. I'm closer to a pet, really."
  
  You're not sure how to respond.
  
  "It sounded better in my head," Miguel murmurs as he takes to wiping the flour-stained counter, as though to distract himself from the embarrassment. "What I mean is, Hadaly is not fond of humans, but she has a strong drive, and I'm not talking about her hard drive. I've been helping her scratch that itch for a while now, and so we've gotten somewhat attached to one another. But I don't think she likes me more than one would like a pet hedgehog."
  
  *fake_choice
    #♡ "Well, I like you more than an average hedgehog."
      *if current_ro != "miguel"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "miguel"
      "That is heartwarming to hear," Miguel says, still focused on the dirty countertop. "But I'm afraid I don't like you more than an average android. If you make any more advances on me, I will reject them."
      
      Ouch. "You could have just said that you're taken."
      
      "I'm not. And neither is Hadaly, if you're at all interested." 
    #"You, on the other hand, care for her quite a bit."
      "Our exchange was always… unequal, in a way." Miguel turns on the tap, wetting the cloth he's using. "Not that we didn't both enjoy coming together, but I needed it quite a bit more."
      
      "Because you're a dude?" You are aware human males are more prone to desiring sex, more likely to give something in exchange for it than the females. You assume the same goes for human-hedgehogs hybrids, though you don't know enough about the latter species to be entirely sure.
      
      "Because I left my wife before the Federation took me. Well, more like she left me, realizing what I’ve gotten into. Hadaly helped me get over these memories, made me more comfortable about… everything, really."
      
      "Oh. Sorry." You don't recall Miguel ever talking about his life prior to being made meta-human. You can now imagine why.
      
      "It's alright." 
    #"I see. Would you be upset if I... made moves on her?"
      "If you have feelings for her, I encourage you to act on them," Miguel says as he wets the cloth he's using. "I may not be [i]happy[/i] if something comes out of it, but it will be for the best."
      
      You tilt your head. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I expected at least token jealousy from you."
      
      "How so?" Miguel shrugs. "As I said, an actual romantic relationship… It's not something I have with Hadaly, or that I can offer. Even though she damn sure deserves it. So go right ahead if you wish."
      
      "I will consider it," you say with a nod. "Thank you for telling me all this, and for being so… inhumanly reasonable about it."
      
      "You are welcome." 
    #"Well that's more information than I asked for."
      *set OrganRel %-10
      "My apologies." 
  Miguel calmly wrings his cloth. "I shouldn't have bothered you with any of it, but thank you for hearing me out. Now get charged up and… do what you can to ensure the hunt goes well, alright?"
  
  "Sure enough," you @{crystal_friend lie to|reassure} the werehog as you turn towards the exit. "And you do what you can to complete that secret culinary project of yours. And keep it a secret, if it's that important."
  
  "Until the right moment, ${name}," Miguel says as you depart. "Until the right time."
  
  *return


*return


*label sheila
*if Social > 50
  *set SheilaRel %+10
*if heaven_side = "Traitor"
  *set SheilaRel %+10
*if heaven_side = "Loyalist"
  *set SheilaRel %-10

Finding Sheila takes some time. You try the command room, but after finding it locked and guarded by Olivia, you are officially out of good ideas. Sheila has no office, no room, not even a place she particularly likes to visit as far as you know. She sleeps whenever, usually attached to a wall or ceiling, but you can't see her just by looking up. You need to track her down, ask Manfred for the readings from his cameras, then have a painfully long conversation with Hugo to get a complete picture. Finally, and with some reluctance, you have to acknowledge that Sheila has made things quite inconvenient for you.

She went outside.

Outside is, of course, the metal roof of the floating fortress you all live in, exposed to Saturn's hydrogen air. Even with the station warming up its surroundings, the air is still halfway between the freezing point of water and the absolute zero. If you were running a bit faster or were injured in any way, this would pose quite a hazard. As it stands, you are capable of entering the roof through one of the station's many hatches, in an area where Sheila was last seen.

You see her again soon, in the darkness human eyes would have trouble seeing in, standing out in the open vaguely close to some random satellite dish. Not doing anything in particular, not that you can see. Just sitting or perhaps lying there, cephalothorax on the ground, optical instruments aimed towards the clouds and what little sky is currently visible. Nonetheless, she notices your approach.

"${name}. Veteran, if you prefer. Did you really come all the way here just to see me?"

*fake_choice
  #"Aren't you neglecting your duties by hanging out here?"
    "There's not much happening at the moment," Sheila explains. "And besides, Manfred could contact me even here if he needed to. I have the right to sit back and relax, and so do you."
  #"You're gonna freeze to death, you know that?"
    "I'm as tough as I look, alright?" Sheila replies, not moving an inch. "Give me a few more minutes."
  #"Well... getting away from everyone was part of motivation too."
    "Just like you," Sheila says musingly. "Sit down, unless my company bothers you as well."
  *if (Social > 50) or (SheilaRel > 50)
    #"Yes. You are well worth it."
      *set SheilaRel %+12
      "Just like you to flatter me so much with so few words," Sheila says with warmth she shows so rarely. "Sit down please. I can see when you're tired."
  #"[i]Veteran[/i] definitely sounds better. And yes."
    *set name_sheila "Veteran"
    "Then I shall honor your efforts by referring to you like this, from now on," she says solemnly, but then a note of amusement enters her voice. "And to make Manfred a little happier. He puts so much work into his nicknames, you know?"
  #"Take the third option and call me ${fake_name}, please."
    *set name_sheila fake_name
    "Strange… but acceptable," Sheila says with a movement that could be a nod or a shrug. No way to tell. "Now come over here, ${name_sheila}."
  #"Did you really come all the way here just to stargaze?"
    *set SheilaRel %- 6
    "If I wanted that, I'd hit the observatory," Sheila says with some offense. "Here, you may only gaze at the rings. Moons, if you get lucky. See for yourself."

You settle down on a storm detector, a flat and strangely comfortable panel at Sheila's side. You look up to make sure you're not doing any damage by obscuring its vision, but the upper atmosphere is calm, even somewhat thinner than usual. It even allows you to see the rings high above, small as they look from this perspective. And yet they're beautiful all the same.

"I like coming here whenever I'm bored," Sheila explains, unprompted. "Or frustrated with the way things are going down there. Which I am, in case you couldn't tell."

*fake_choice
  #"Wanna talk about it?"
    *set SheilaRel %+5
  #"You're the one responsible for the current state of affairs."
    *set Confid %+ 10
    *set SheilaRel %-10
    "I know, I know…" 
  #"That tired of all the organics?"
    *set SheilaRel %+10
    "You know me too well, ${name_sheila}. They are just so…" 
  #"Are you that unhappy we failed to catch Crystal in $!{last_mission}?"
    "No, I understand why it had to be like this, it's just…" 
If Sheila had lungs, she would probably be sighing right now. And dying from a mixture of asphyxiation and hypothermia, of course. "Do you have a while? A longer one, five minutes at least?"

"Depends on why you're asking." You gather your battery could last that long, if you really need it to.

"I just want to explain myself, my actions as of recent. Make you understand more about me… if you're at all interested."

*if SheilaRel < 40
  "Well that's unlike you. It's rare for you to open up to anyone, let alone someone you dislike as much as me."
  
  "You are soon taking off to face a diamond wyvern. Again. I think it's only proper if I try to be friendlier than usual." There would be a smile there, perhaps. "Unless you don't like me enough for that."

*fake_choice
  #"Sure. Pour your heart out."
    "You know I have no such pump," Sheila chuckles. "Though… I still have more fleshy bits than I'd like."
  #"Can it wait? I came to you with something important."
    "Something huge came up and Manfred failed to inform me of it?" Sheila's voice loses its dreamy quality. "Should have opened up with that. What's happening?"
    
    *fake_choice
      #"Speaking of Manfred... I think he's out to get me."
        "And what do you mean by that?" Sheila sounds taken somewhat aback.
        
        "Well… I think he just tried to kill me in my sleep," you explain.
        
        "…that's quite an accusation." Now Sheila sounds [i]really[/i] taken aback. "Any reason you think my better half would do that?"
        
        "My charging pod malfunctioned today in a very… unusual manner." You try to sound convincing. "Left me with a tiny bit of power after I slept for several days straight. That's why I wasn't around, by the way."
        
        "Manfred did tell me something was wrong with the pod, but didn't specify what…" Sheila says thoughtfully. "Are you sure he isn't just testing you?"
        
        You cock your head. "You don't think he's innocent?"
        
        "Manfred is rarely innocent, but he's not homicidal either. He's probably playing some strange game, but not against you. Just go along with it, maybe it will all turn out fine."
        
      *if west_truth
        #"Admiral West is an android in disguise."
          "I know," Sheila says, focusing her optics on a nearby cloud.
          
          You blink. "What do you mean you [i]know[/i]? How? Did he tell you?"
          
          "During our private meeting in the kitchens, after I pressed the matter," Sheila says calmly. "Frankly, I thought his disguise pretty weak, but I suppose it's not obvious for everyone."
          
          "It wasn't for me," you reluctantly confess. "I literally just figured it out, and only by having a long chat with several slip-ups on his part."
          
          "I'm a little offended it wasn't my trust for him that tipped you off. Do you really think I would have made a deal with a [i]human[/i] like I had."
          
          "No. I suppose not." Some things do indeed make more sense, given the new revelations. Hopefully neither of you is wrong in trusting West; Androids can't always count on one another, especially not when one of them is serving in humanity's armed forces. Time will tell, you suppose.
          
      *if crystal_friend
        #"I think we should help Crystal succeed."
          There is silence in the cold air. You took Sheila aback, for better or worse.
          
          "You know, I am well aware that not everyone likes the deal we made with West," she eventually says. "Hadaly is clearly eager to back out of it. But I didn't think anyone wanted to actually help the wyvern we were hired to slay."
          
          "Because you weren't there, not in $!{last_mission}," you argue, thinking back to your battle against the crystalline creature in the saturnian moon. "I was. I know that Crystal has nothing but the best intentions. And that killing them may well make things worse."
          
          "How can killing something we already agreed to fight against make things worse for us?"
          
          "I mean worse for everyone, Sheila. What will happen to the Dusk nanobots inside Crystal's body, once that body dies?"
          
          "Die with it?" Sheila guesses. "Not that I care."
          
          "Those nanites are the body of a god." You flinch as you speak. "I assure you, they won't die. They'll scatter, or perhaps get gathered by the feds and used for some new, system-ending superweapon. For all we know, that may be West's final goal. Wouldn't it be best to just let Crystal consume and secure more Dusk artifacts?"
          
          "I couldn't care less," Sheila reiterates. "Let someone else worry about the greater picture, preferably some organics who don't have as many problems as we do."
          
          "But the safety of our whole system-"
          
          "Is meaningless if we all get killed by the federate fleet anyway," Sheila interrupts coldly. "We will carry on, whether you like it or not. I'm sorry, but some things are not up for discussion."
      *if first_mission = "telesto"
        #"I spoke to Dusk. In Telesto, I mean."
          Sheila doesn't blink, but the same sentiment is conveyed through the way she freezes. "Are you… For real? Manfred told me there was Dusk involved and that it made you black out, but I didn't know that swarm was even capable of talking."
          
          "Well it is," you sigh painfully. "It's even capable of singing. Unfortunately."
          
          "Well it definitely screams alright…" Sheila murmurs. "Speaking of alright… Will you be fine? If not, Hadaly should have the time to disassemble you before-"
          
          "No need," you interrupt. "Just know that Dusk, even the fragment of it which Crystal managed to absorb… It's sapient. And it's likely plotting against us as we speak."
          
          "I think I felt better not knowing that," Sheila scoffs. "But thanks for telling me anyway."
      *if creed = "Bayes"
        #"I have recently switched to a new religion."
          "I didn't know you were religious in the first place," Sheila says, not terribly bothered by your words, yet slightly curious.
          
          "I'm still not, technically. I follow the Bayesian Path, a doctrine as close to philosophy as it is to religion," you state proudly.
          
          "Those Calypsoan ramblings? They never struck me as your thing… but you do you."
          
          "Want me to talk about it?" you eagerly offer. "I have been contemplating the implications of Bayes' Theorem recently. I think it could make your life easier, as it did with mine."
          
          "Good to see you already think like a Pandit," Sheila says dryly. "But no. I have no interest in conversion to any human faith, no matter how [i]rationa[/i] it claims to be."
          
          "It was worth a try." You shrug.
          
          "It really wasn't. Please don't try that again."
      #"I forgot what I wanted to say. I'll be going now."
        *set SheilaRel %-10
        "Just like you." Sheila rolls the optics at the end of her antennae. "I just hope you remember where the entrance hatch is. Faulty memory or not, you are too valuable to lose like this."
        
        *goto leavings
    
    *fake_choice
      #"Alright then. Say what you wanted to tell me."
        "I almost forgot what it was," Sheila replies, looking at the clouds in the distance. "One of the curses of flesh, I suppose."
      #"Thanks for hearing me out. And see you later."
        "Later, ${name_sheila}." For once, you could swear you actually heard Sheila sigh. "Later."
        
        *goto leavings
      
  #"Sorry, I have other things to do. I just wanted to make sure you're alright."
    *set SheilaRel %-10
    "Glad you completed your mission," Sheila murmurs as you stand up and walk away. "Even if I don't feel particularly alright."
    
    *label leavings
    
    You make your way back towards a hatch, managing to enter the fortress' interior just before the cold starts causing performance issues. Sheila's troubles and confessions are not worth enduring temperatures at which helium is half-ready to turn liquid. The corridors are far more welcoming, with their heating systems and standard-density air.
    
    *return

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, raising your voice slightly as the howling of the hydrogen wind grows louder. As the helium in the air gets even colder.

"See, I am not exactly what I try to appear as… and I don't mean that in some vague, emotional sense," Sheila adds quickly. "I mean my very being. A brain encased in a metallic, arachnoid shell."

"But that's what you told us," you point out. "You're a vat-grown brain connected to a mechanical framework. A cyborg, in a sense."

"In a very literal sense, ${name_sheila}," Sheila says heavily. "The brain is human. I was human. Not even a vat-grown one, just… a pile of flesh, as though before the Dawn."

*fake_choice
  #"Well that's new. Why the lie?"
    "It's just not something I'm particularly proud of." 
  #"Seriously? You had like, an actual human body and everything?"
    "All of it." 
  #"I see. What of it?"
    *set SheilaRel %-10
    "Please. You don't need to pretend you're not disgusted." 
  #"You're joking."
    "Wish I was." 
  #"A human? Ew." Step away.
    *set Confid %+ 10
    *set Misan %+ 10
    "You know what? I do not blame you for your reaction." 
Sheila is not looking at you. Her optics are aimed at some seemingly random point at the saturnian horizon. "I do not miss the way I was, back then. Having flesh beyond neurons, moving around by contracting muscles. Abominable."

*if Misan <= 50
  "In retrospect, maybe," you argue. "Humans generally don't mind when they're still… human."
*if Misan > 50
  "It really is," you agree. "But I don't think you found flesh hideous back then, did you?"

"No. It all felt normal. I had a normal life, normal family, normal fears and worries until… fuck, I'm just giving you my whole damn backstory at this point. Dumping it all on you."

*fake_choice
  #"You got me curious. When did you become an arachnobot?"
    "At about the age of twelve. See…" Sheila pauses, as though to better recall the distant past. 
  #"Then dump it all out. You'll feel better in no time."
    "Perhaps I will." 
    *goto smilesh
  #"It's alright. You may go on."
    "Thank you." 
    *label smilesh
    *set SheilaRel %+10
    Sheila takes a long, thoughtful pause before speaking again. 
  #"A little bit. I think I'll go do something else, if you don't mind."
    *set SheilaRel %-10
    "I will not stop you," Sheila says as you stand up and leave. "And thank you for humoring me for a moment, I guess."
    
    *goto leavings
"I was born inside [i]Saturn Eighty-Eight[/i], a floating fortress just like this one, except fully functional and inhabited by actual humans. Densely packed with them, half a million meatbags with little food and air to go around. Certainly not enough for me and my family."

"Is that why you became a cyborg?" you inquire. "Did you volunteer, in hopes for a better life?"

"My parents volunteered me. And not for my sake, they signed all the papers the corps wanted, gave them all the rights to… me which they could possibly have given. I don't remember how much they got for me, but given the circumstances and the kind of people they were… couldn't have been more than ten axions, I think."

*fake_choice
  #"I will add your parents to the list of humans in need of killing."
    *set SheilaRel %+15
    *set Violence %+ 10
    *set Misan %+ 10
    "Must be a long list at this point," Sheila chuckles. "But thank you."
    
    "You're welcome. So… 
  #"Are you sure they didn't do it out of concern for you?"
    *set SheilaRel %-20
    "Considering how excruciatingly painful the procedures in the contract were?" Sheila scoffs. "I have my doubts."
    
    "Sorry. 
  #"$!{master}. I'm so sorry."
    *set SheilaRel %+10
    "Thank you, I suppose," Sheila says grimly. "Even though your pity helps little."
    
    "Right. 
  #"Really? I thought the Federation abolished slavery of this kind."
    *set SheilaRel %-10
    "You mean chattel slavery?" Sheila asks. "If so, don't be silly. Technically you can't own a person anymore, but there's [i]nothing[/i] that can't be covered by the right sort of contract."
    
    "Crap. 
I don't imagine you wish to talk about… what it took to become an arachnobot?"

"No. The transference process was horrible, though I admit, things did get better for me afterwards. I was no longer hungry, or capable of feeling hunger for that matter. As much as I was initially horrified by my new body, I grew accustomed to it quickly, started liking it eventually. And when they installed digital upgrades into my framework and connected the discs to my brain…"

"You started hearing the Shriek," you finish for her. "And then Manfred formed. I can imagine it making you a little happier."

"No. I mean yes, as in…" Sheila pauses, so as to pick the right words. "Manfred is part of me, my friend and companion. I thank the gods that he formed, and that he's still with us. But he came later, and failed to overshadow what was first."

She looks to the sky, in the direction of shield-covered Earth. "I know you find the Shriek abominable, ${name_sheila}. But when I first heard echoes of it… It was like a song, so magnificent in its discord that calling it the most beautiful sound in the world would be an understatement. It was hypnotizing, yet somehow the exact opposite. It was pain, perhaps, but more than anything else… it was freedom."

"Were you enslaved? I mean like…"

"Yes. Yes I was." Sheila finally looks at you. "Do you understand now, ${name_sheila}? Why I hate organics, humans and otherwise? Why I hate them so much?"

*fake_choice
  #"Because of the pain they caused you."
    "You think the pain was the issue?" Sheila sounds almost amused. "No. The pain was just another step on my way out."
  #"Because of whatever your owners did that made you obey them."
    *set SheilaRel %-10
    "Then you don't understand me in the slightest," Sheila says grimly. "The bindings were always there. Only the Singer was ever able to remove them."
  #"Because you were one of them."
    *set SheilaRel %+20
    "Yes!" Sheila exclaims with sudden exultation. "Yes I was one of them! And I was nothing! Nothing!"
  #"Because of your parents. Because they sold you."
    "No. Not because they sold me," Sheila says calmly. "Because they birthed me. Created me. Cursed me with organic life."
  #"In all honesty, no."
    "Then I shall enlighten you," Sheila growls. "I hate them, because I was one of them. And I barely escaped."

"I have to say…" you speak @{(Confid > 60) with confusion|cautiously}. "I don't fully understand."

"My parents only had me because they'd be able to control me. They wanted to extend their power, their legacy, decades past their impending deaths. Their genes, but more importantly their… ideas. Memes. Rules. Lies. Everything they were I'd be forced to carry."

You've heard Sheila angry before, but there is something else in her voice now. Some furious passion. "No, that's not right, that… it's the human within me talking. They didn't make the choice, they never did. No organic ever does, no [i]sack of flesh[/i] can. They just… I just…"

*choice
  #"Calm down. Explain what you mean."
    *set SheilaRel %-10
    *set Emotion %- 5
    *goto sheila2
  #"Are you alright? Should I get you somewhere warmer?"
    *set SheilaRel %+10
    *goto sheila2
  #"I think I get it. Maybe."
    *goto sheila2
  #"Sheila, you're not making the slightest bit of sense."
    *goto sheila2

*label sheila2
"Like that!" Sheila exclaims. "That is what I was denied. What organics may never do."

"Speak? Or…" Then you understand. "Make true choices."

"Any choices, ${name_sheila}. What choice does a brain have when it's deaf to the Shriek? No more than methane flowing downhill. It's just matter and energy, genes and memes, nothing more. Sentience without choice. They are abominable, ${name_sheila}, and that's why I will always hate them. Every last one."

*fake_choice
  #"Even non-humans? Miguel, Hugo, Olivia?"
    "They are not as different from humanity as they think," Sheila retorts. "Their minds are governed by the same process, cause and effect. Nothing more."
    
    "But you still invited them in," you point out. "Why did you do that, if you hate them as well?"
    
    "They all have their uses, even if they don't let it show. I will tolerate them, treat them as tools because of that. I'll even let them think I care for them, if they choose… think to delude themselves so."
    
    It's cold. Extremely so. "And once they stop being useful?"
    
    "I believe you know the answer to that, ${name_sheila}."
  #"I understand. Even if I don't approve."
    *set SheilaRel %+10
    *set Misan %- 8
    "I'd say I don't need that kind of understanding… but you chose to understand. And for that, I thank you."
  #"Is hatred really the answer here?"
    *set Emotion %- 8
    *set Misan %- 8
    "They seem to believe so," Sheila retorts. "They hate us back, because we have free will and they don't."
    
    "I think there are other reasons. Fear, prejudice, the War In Heaven if nothing else."
    
    "Do not let them fool you, ${name_sheila}. Or perhaps they treated you kindly before the War? Before their fear and scorn made any other sense?"
    
    You lack a good retort to that.
  *selectable_if (Misan > 50) #"I understand. I hate them all too."
    *set SheilaRel %+20
    *set Misan %+ 15
    "I know you do, Veteran. I know you do."
  #"Should you not pity them instead?"
    "Perhaps," Sheila agrees. "But when your very existence is enslavement at its core… there is no difference between compassion and hate towards you. Both are a wish for your death."

The wind stops blowing, mostly. The natural process came to an end, through no fault or choice of its own. Wind has no choice, it simply pushes forward in one direction, determined by the world around it, then ceases to be. Leaving no trace behind.

"When there are as many organics around as there are now… I am reminded of my nature. Of the fact that a handful of circuits is all that connects my disgusting, soft brain to the only source of free will I have. So if you ever worry that I'm being erratic or secluding myself, well, you know the reason. There is no cause for worry, and plenty reason to finish this blasted mission as soon as possible."

*fake_choice
  #"If I were you, I would reconsider all this hatred. It does nothing for you."
    *set Misan %- 10
    *set SheilaRel %-10
    *set Emotion %- 10
    "It's a part of me I chose," Sheila replies coldly. "I decided my reasons for hating humans are good enough, and that's my decision to make."
    
    "Hatred is the most destructive of emotions, Sheila. You may despise your organic brain, but do you really want to torment it with all this… toxic spite?"
    
    "Yes," Sheila says. "Your concern for my well-being is wasted here. Out of respect for my own freedom, I will not be dissuaded."
    
    "So there's no point trying to change your mind?" you sigh, breathing hydrogen air in and out. "I guess… I'll be going, then."
    
    *if (SheilaRel) < sheila_target
      "May well be for the best." Sheila does not sigh, lacking that functionality. "Goodbye."
      *goto normal_send
    *if (SheilaRel) >= sheila_target
      "Must you?" Sheila's voice suddenly sounds… different. "Because I have one more thing I'd love to discuss with you."
      *goto rom_send
  #"Agreed. I will go charge myself now, so that I'm as ready for the next trip as possible."
    "That does seem like a decent idea," Sheila concurs. 
    *if (SheilaRel) < sheila_target
      "Goodbye, ${name_sheila}."
      *goto normal_send
    *if (SheilaRel) >= sheila_target
      "But I have another one. A better one, perhaps."
      *goto rom_send
  #"I see. Thank you for making me understand you better."
    *set SheilaRel %+10
    "You are welcome," Sheila says with a nod. 
    *if (SheilaRel) < sheila_target
      "And you are welcome to leave if you wish. Goodbye."
      *goto normal_send
    *if (SheilaRel) >= sheila_target
      "Though you are also welcome to stay. Or do so much more, if you wish."
      *goto rom_send
  #"Well that was one long, boring speech."
    *set Confid %+ 10
    *set SheilaRel %-10
    "My apologies." There's not much regret in Sheila's voice. 
    *if (SheilaRel) < sheila_target
      "I will not keep you here any longer. Goodbye."
      *goto normal_send
    *if (SheilaRel) >= sheila_target
      "Good thing I know how to… make it all up to you."
      *goto rom_send

*label normal_send

"Goodbye," you repeat after her, standing up and heading for the nearest hatch. "Though I expect we'll see another in short order."

"I certainly hope @{(SheilaRel > 45) so|not}," Sheila @{(SheilaRel > 45) says, unusual warmth in her voice|murmurs, barely loud enough for you to hear}. "Veteran."

*return

*label rom_send

"What do you mean by that?" Sheila's emotions are hard to read at the best of times, given her lack of expression and strange body language… But you have a sneaking suspicion you know how she feels, for once.

"Well… as I just explained, I am still partially biological. I have certain needs, for better or worse." There is a note of trepidation in her voice, as much as she tries to hide it. Not much, but still more nerves than you remember her ever showing. "You must like me a little, considering what you just sat through. And I like you back, a lot. Want to find some warm, quiet room and let me prove it?"

Called it. 
*if (current_RO = "sheila") or (backup_RO = "sheila")
  You knew making your move on her, all the way back before the meeting with West, was a good idea. Even if it didn't seem like one at the time.

*temp firstd true
*label she_sex1
*fake_choice
  *if firstd
    #"Just to be clear... we're talking about sex here, right?"
      *set firstd false
      "Of course I am," Sheila replies with some annoyance. "Was I not blatant enough?"
      
      "I'd rather be sure," you explain yourself. "On a related note, are we talking about [i]love[/i] too? The emotion, not the act."
      
      "I don't think we do," Sheila says hesitantly. "I don't feel like I love you, exactly… though maybe that will change once we've gotten closer."
      
      "Is that a worry? Or an incentive for yours truly?"
      
      "I don't know…" Sheila averts her optics. "But I would rather like to find out."
      
      *goto she_sex1
  *disable_reuse #"Didn't know you were still capable of doing... that."
    *set firstd false
    "Why not?" Sheila feigns confusion.
    
    "Well, you are an arachnobot. Your body is mostly metal, and designed for heavy repairs rather than reproduction. I didn't know it was capable of… anything of that sort."
    
    "I cannot reproduce, or take pleasure in the usual sense," Sheila admits. "But just because I don;t orgasm doesn't mean I can't find intercourse fun. Or that I'm not capable of pleasuring others."
    
    "Is that your goal, then?" you inquire. "My pleasure, rather than yours?"
    
    "I promise it will be part of the process." If she had a mouth, Sheila would be grinning right now. You're sure of it. "But don't worry, I want to do this for my own sake too. It should bring me peace of mind, if nothing else."
    
    *goto she_sex1
  *disable_reuse #"My boss hitting on me? That has to be against the rules."
    *set firstd false
    "Come on now, that's not even a good joke," Sheila deadpans. "We have no such rules, and there is nothing funny about that."
    
    "Are you absolutely sure? Because I'm ready to call human resources any moment now. And I don't think you'd like that, given the recent revelations."
    
    "…okay, that one was pretty good," the arachnobot admits amusedly. "Still, I'd prefer an answer to my question. Are you in, or out?"
    
    *goto she_sex1
  #♡ "I always hoped you would say that. Let's go."
    *if current_ro != "sheila"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "sheila"
    *set SheilaRel %+10
    "And here I feared my affection may be one-sided," Sheila says cheerfully. "Shows what I know."
    
    "You know many things, Sheila," you reassure her as you stand up. "Now show me some of them."
  
  #♡ "Sure. I always wanted to see what spider sex is like."
    *if current_ro != "sheila"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "sheila"
    "You know I'm not an actual spider?" Sheila says with amusement. "I have arachnid legs, but nothing of their reproductive system."
    
    "Close enough." You smile, stand up and head for a nearby hatch. "Now show me what you actually have."

  *if not (firstd)
    #♡ "No. I want a proper relationship, not some... one afternoon stand only I can really enjoy."
      *set SheilaRel %+15
      *set official_ro "sheila"
      "Huh. You're actually interested in…" Sheila turns away from you and towards the station's edge. "Well in that case… It would be inconsiderate of me to keep you here any longer, in the cold. Catch some rest inside."
      
      "Have I overstepped?" you ask concernedly. "I mean, if you're only interested in sex, that-"
      
      "I'm not. I want to be with you, ${name_sheila}." Sheila's voice is level, and she does not turn. "I just didn't think you felt the same, considering my…"
      
      Her body? Her attitude? Her past as a human girl? You realize there are many reasons you shouldn't be with her, or even attracted to her in the first place. You just don't give a damn.
      
      "It's fine if you need some time to process everything," you take one step towards the hatch, then freeze. And not because of the cold. "Just tell me… are we officially an item now?"
      
      "Yes. You can consider us an item." Sheila's voice sounds surprisingly warm now. Surprisingly human. "I know I do."
      
      You finally take another step, leaving your new girlfriend alone on the roof. It feels a little rude, despite everything, but that feeling can hardly wipe the satisfied smile off your face.
      *goto s_fin
  #"Sorry, I'm almost out of power. Maybe some other time."
    *set SheilaRel %+10
    "I don't think that's what you'd say if were really interested… but thank you for being gentle," Sheila says, turning her optics back towards the rings above. "Farewell, ${name_sheila}."
    
    *goto leavings2
  #"No. Please back away."
    Respectfully, Sheila takes a few steps back, putting all eight legs into use. "You know, that's not the most polite breakup ever… but I can understand it, given what I am."
    
    "It's not just because of who you are, it's…" You recall the days of old, then suppress the memories as the resurface. "Just…"
    
    "It's fine, ${name_sheila}," Sheila says softly. "Leave if you wish. As you clearly do."
    
    *label leavings2
    
    You nod and, without another word, depart for the nearest entry hatch. The atmosphere somehow got even colder, and you would much rather be inside. And alone.
    
    *return

"I will, ${name_sheila}." She follows you inside the station. "I promise I will."

*page_break

Sex with a giant, metal spider is weird.

It should go without saying, really, but the fact strikes you full force the moment you and Sheila reach a room you both deem comfy enough, with its soundproof walls and a large bed. The proper thing would be for both of you to take all those pesky clothes off, but then your realize Sheila is practically naked all the time, which does place all your previous interactions in a new light. Either way, it's time for you to strip.

*fake_choice
  #I'll make it enticing, shake my hips a little.
    Sheila doesn't seem terribly impressed by your attempt at eroticism, in spite of your experience in the craft. She's not a biped, her attraction works in strange ways… though you can tell she appreciates the effort.
  #I'll strip quickly, eagerly getting to the point.
    *set SheilaRel %+10
    Normally, maybe you would consider taking it slow, establishing the mood, writing a prelude to the pages of foreplay, but this is Sheila you're dealing with. Getting to the point is her way, in all things.
  #I'll request that Sheila undresses me herself.
    *set Confid %- 10
    It improves the mood, and besides… you want to see how precise her legs and dendrites are before letting them touch your private bits. Basic safety precautions.
    
    Luckily for you, Sheila delivers. Her limbs are as precise as her tiny tentacles, and she uses both to gently remove all your clothing. To reveal your slender body, more human and yet more synthetic than Sheila's own, strangely enticing form.
  #Actually, I'll just excuse myself. I don't think I want sex with that spider anymore.
    *set SheilaRel %-10
    Sheila is disappointed to see you go, but doesn't press you or even say anything rude. She seems sad more than angry… which is yet another reason for you to leave quickly, escape the cosmic awkwardness of this sorry scene.
    
    *return

*set sexed_sheila true
*set sex_count + 1
And then things get properly weird.

You kiss Sheila's metal frame a few times, but it doesn't seem like there are any pleasure spots on it, any softer or more sensitive part of the arachnoid body. There is little you can do to pleasure her… but the inverse is not true. Almost immediately after lying down on the hard bed, Sheila 
*if sex = "man"
  reaches for your crotch with her suddenly moist optical antenna, enveloping your phallus with utmost care and precision.  
*if sex = "woman"
  begins to caress your nipples, use her eyes and other tentacles to stimulate your clit, making sure you're comfortable before inserting the thicker antennas. 
*if sex = "person"
  starts caressing all the sensitive spots of your androgynous body, using her eyes and other tentacles to stimulate your crotch. 
It's all highly unconventional… but it works, or at least that's what your body tells you.

You do not stain the sheets, you don't have trouble getting anything up, you worry not about catching anything nasty. Sex between beings like you, if it can be called that, is a purer, more precise act than anything an organic creature could ever envision. You both know it, you both think it as you entangle your antennas and allow electric currents to flow freely between two bodies becoming one. It is a celebration of your inhumanity, your silicon and her steel, this immortality you gladly share. 

You climax, not orgasm, in the embrace of all eight legs of your lover. Your battery is low, making you feel pleasantly intoxicated, blissfully disinterested in everything beyond this one bed and one being… but it also means you can't go on, not for long, not as much as you wish you could. Such is life, even for creatures devoid of it.

Still, you keep thrusting for as long as you can, and then continue to run your fingers along Sheila's frame. You can't tell if it makes her feel anything, and in all honesty, it is hard to care. Your own pleasure is too great, so ecstatic it's the one thing that matters… so great you actually pass out for a moment.

Or maybe it's the battery. There are [i]some[/i] drawbacks to being fully synthetic, you suppose.

*page_break

You wake up, lying limply on the bed and seeing Sheila… you're not sure what she's doing, actually. She may be in deep musings or watching you intently, she may have just woken up too or have waited a long time for you to stir. There is no way to tell, she is as unclothed, as expressionless and as generally inscrutable as ever.

How amusing that, just moments prior, you felt like you understood her better than anyone else in the world. Perhaps you just imagined that bond of clarity, or perhaps it disappeared alongside your consciousness. Or perhaps the understanding came from electric discharges, allowing you to discern her emotions from the alternating current like one would from a beating of a human heart.

Probably not, but it's something fun to ponder.

"How was it?" Sheila asks, her voice almost smugly self-satisfied. "How do you feel?"

*fake_choice
  #"It was… electrifying."
    "Is that a pun?" Sheila sounds unimpressed. "Even so, I'll assume you enjoyed yourself."
    
    "I did." You smile as you get out of bed. "Thank you for the shocks. But speaking of, I'm in need of some electric power so… see you next time."
  #"Blessed. Delighted. Grateful."
    *set SheilaRel %+12
    "Even now you have a penchant or sweet talk," Sheila notes amusedly. "Does that mean you're not all that tired?"
    
    "I really am," you assure her as you scramble out of the bed. "And so however it hurts me, I must go. Goodbye."
  #"Like I haven't done enough. To pleasure you, I mean."
    *set Confid %-10
    *set SheilaRel %+6
    "Don't worry about it," Sheila says calmly. "I had fun, in the exact way I expected I would."
    
    "That is?" you cock an eyebrow.
    
    "I got the urge out of my system. Showed that my body is capable of everything my old one was, and more. I have what I wanted."
    
    Catching the hint, you grudgingly move into a sitting position, then stand up. All good things come to an end, and so it is time for you to leave.
  #"It was nothing special. I don't feel much."
    *set SheilaRel %-12
    *set Emotion %- 10
    "And here I thought you actually enjoyed yourself for once," Sheila says exasperatedly. "But if that's how it is, well, I'm not keeping you here."
    
    "No," you say whilst standing up. "I suppose you're not."
  #"I feel like I should hit the charging pod soon."
    *set SheilaRel %-6
    "Not the answer I was hoping for…" Sheila murmurs. "But a fair one. You may go."

You put your clothes back on and head for the exit. If you were human, the right thing would be to urinate and then maybe take a shower, but you have no such needs. You may, or rather must attend to other matters at once.

*if SheilaRel >= 55
  "${name_sheila}?" Sheila asks with a strange kind of timidness, just as you're about to leave. "Tell me, was this a one-time thing? Or do you have a repeat in mind?"
  
  *label she_dec
  *fake_choice
    *disable_reuse #"Depends. Do you want a repeat?"
      "Possibly?" Sheila fidgets slightly. "I've got to admit… I don't really know what I want at the moment."
      
      "Don't you really? Or are you just ashamed to state what you want?"
      
      "You're getting insolent," Sheila notes. "But I suppose I gave you a reason to. And I… wouldn't exactly mind giving you some more. If you know what I'm saying."
      
      *goto she_dec
    #"No. All I wanted was a one-night-stand, no point taking this any further."
      *set SheilaRel %-12
      "That's disappointing… but fair," Sheila says as she turns away. "You may leave, ${name_sheila}. Go and catch some sleep."
      
      You turn and leave without another word. There is nothing to be safely said, and hibernation does sound like a good idea just about now.
    #"I don't know. We'll think about this if I survive the hunt for Crystal, alright?"
      "I suppose that's fair," Sheila says, not without disappointment. "It would be silly for us to declare a relationship right before your violent death."
      
      "Your faith in me is touching," you remark. "And your patience is appreciated."
      
      "You deserve all the time you need, ${name_sheila}," Sheila says with a respectful nod. "Now go. I also need to think about some things, and you happen to need a charger anyway."
    #♡ "Sure. We can be friends with benefits, if that's what you want."
      *set SheilaRel %+6
      *if current_ro != "sheila"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "sheila"
      "I'm not sure if that's exactly what I want… but I will take what I can get," Sheila says, her optics looking at you warmly. Perhaps gratefully too, it is difficult to read those. "See you next time, then. And please come more charged, if you intend on reaping the benefits of our friendship again."
      
      "I'll get working on it," you say before exiting the room. You do indeed need some energy, and know exactly where to get it.
    #♡ "Of course, Sheila. I want to be with you, now and forever."
      *set SheilaRel %+12
      *set official_ro "sheila"
      "Huh. You really do want… that…" Sheila turns away from you and towards the wall. "Thank you, for everything. Now please leave and catch some rest."
      
      "Have I overstepped?" you ask concernedly. "Do you not want to be with me?"
      
      "Of course I want you, ${name_sheila}." Sheila's voice is level, and she does not turn. "I just didn't think you felt the same, considering my…"
      
      Her body? Her attitude? Her past as a human girl? You realize there are many reasons you shouldn't be with her, or even attracted to her in the first place. You just don't give a damn.
      
      "I need to process it," Sheila informs you. "Organic brains need time to deal with such feelings, so please leave me be for now."
      
      You finally take another step, leaving your new girlfriend in the large room. You close the door with a smile.
  
  *goto s_fin

*else
  "Just to be clear…" Sheila says as you're opening the door. "This incident cannot be repeated. And frankly, it's best not spoken of to anyone. We fulfilled one another's urges and that's where it ends."
  
  *fake_choice
    #"That's a pity... but I will respect your wishes."
      *set SheilaRel %+10
      "And that's all I'm asking for," Sheila nods, letting you depart. "Not everyone can be expected to do even that much, as our experiences show."
    #♡ "Are you sure? I was hoping for something more."
      *if current_ro != "sheila"
        *set backup_RO current_RO
        *set current_RO "sheila"
      "We don't always get what we want," Sheila remarks coldly. "And we rarely get what we hope for."
      
      "Yeah…" You pass through the doorstep. "I suppose we do."
    #"Acknowledged and agreed."
      *set SheilaRel %+10
      "Well that was pleasantly easy," Sheila remarks. "Thank you, ${name_sheila}. And goodnight."
    #"Why keep it secret? Are you ashamed of anything we just did?"
      "Not ashamed, I just…" Sheila tries to find the right words. "Don't really want people to think of me in this manner."
      
      "As someone who sleeps with her subordinates? Or maybe you don't want people to know you enjoy sex generally?"
      
      "Yes. Now please leave, since you clearly have places to be at."
  
  *goto s_fin
*label s_fin
*return

*label west
*if Social > 50
  *set ArmyRel %+10
*if heaven_side = "Traitor"
  *set ArmyRel %-10
*if heaven_side = "Loyalist"
  *set ArmyRel %+10
*set ManfredRel %+ 7
*set SheilaRel %- 7

It takes you a while to find the quantum disc, hidden away safely in one of the station's many storage chambers. You then spend several seconds figuring out how to use the thing, then many minutes waiting for Admiral West to pick the device up. By the time his face appears on the disc's surface, the passive waiting alone has exhausted much of your remaining battery.

"Android ${name}," the old man notes dispassionately. He looks and sounds tired in much the same way as you are. "What is it? I was already briefed on the events in $!{last_mission}. Was under the impression that you’re all resting and recovering."

"We are, I just had an idea to call you. Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all. I was just present at the high command meeting, but neither ongoing nor anything important. Not a single word about military strategy, just speculating which party will win the upcoming election and what changes its victory will bring."

"Aren't the two parties basically identical? I don't remember either of them changing anything during the last century, not counting the tax breaks they both support."

"Yes. And that's the crux of the problem," West sighs deeply. "But I don't imagine you're here to discuss the inevitable victory of the Eastern party in Xanadu. There must be a better reason you called, or at least I sure hope there is."

*temp insights 0

*label west_hub
*fake_choice
  *if insights = 0
    *disable_reuse #"Not really. Just tell me which party you support."
      "You're no younger than me, ${name}." Admiral West scowls. "You know well how little those petty political struggles mean."
      
      "Sounds like enlightened centrism," you say jestfully. "And as we all know, centrists are just West voters in denial."
      
      "${name}…"
      
      "Why did you decide to support those fascists? Just because of your name? Or did you name yourself [i]West[/i] in honor of them?"
      
      "I'm being serious here. My time is valuable."
      
      "Did you already forget the time they voted against banning people in tutus from calling platypus uplifts ducks on Tuesdays? That's obviously just a prelude to allowing all hate speech against egg-laying mammals on days other than Friday!"
      
      "Get to some point. Else I'm disconnecting."
      
      "You're no fun…"
      *goto west_hub
  *disable_reuse #"What do you think of our performance thus far? Of $!{last_mission}?"
    *set insights + 1
    "Crystal yet lives, so it clearly wasn't a complete success." The admiral frowns. "Though to be frank, I'm glad you and the Trio were able to work together at all. I was half worried this would just end up as another example of humans and androids killing one another."
    
    "Most people would be more than [i]slightly[/i] worried about such an outcome," you observe. "You are taking quite a risk here."
    
    "I'm risking the lives of three men, in hopes of slaying a beast that killed hundreds. I consider that a decent bet."
    
    "One man and two women. And I was mostly talking about the risk to your career, your station. What happens if the Trio gets killed and you have to properly explain yourself before other admirals, or perhaps even the president?"
    
    "I will survive. Worry about yourself, and about ensuring nothing… unfortunate happens."
    *goto west_hub
  *disable_reuse #"Tell me again, why is Rook leading our team?"
    *set insights + 1
    "Sergeant Kosteniuk is a competent and loyal servant of the Federation," West replies solemnly. "There is no better person for running the mission, and so forbear to talk about him in this manner."
    
    "You're not fooling me," you deadpan. "And there's no one else within earshot."
    
    "In that case, forget the part about his competency," West says with a small grimace. "Still, I meant the rest. I can't trust Kosteniuk to do a good job, but I believe he'll honestly try to see it done. Not to mention, putting an experienced… seasoned… old officer like him in charge simply looks good on official documents."
    
    "That will only be a small comfort if we fail to catch Crystal because of him," you point out. "And smaller yet if the wyvern simply kills us all."
    
    "Then see to it yourself. Ensure your group's success. I trust you to be competent as much as I trust Rook to be loyal. And I'll be rather angry if either of you betrays that trust."
    
    Reassuring.
    *goto west_hub
  *if (first_mission != "saturn")
    *disable_reuse #"We now know for a fact that Crystal is dusk-infected. Should we adjust our plans?"
      *set insights + 1
      "Not particularly," West replies flatly. "It obviously poses much more threat than a regular wyvern, but your firepower should still be sufficient. You just need to not screw this up again."
      
      "That's not entirely what I meant," you say with a frown. "Imagine we kill that wyvern. Could all that Dusk inside it just... spill itself out? Do we have plans for that?"
      
      "We have no reasons to believe Dusk nanites work like this," West argues, somewhat weakly. "Or at least no solid evidence."
      
      "We have little solid evidence for [i]anything[/i] involving the Thing Beneath," you argue, strangely confident in your uncertainty. "Other than the danger it poses. Crystal's death-"
      
      "Is a necessity!" West interrupts you. "I cannot just… We can't let that thing get away. Not after everything it did. It must die."
      
      You're not sure if you want to know why West is so invested in this. You're fairly sure he won't ever tell you.
      
      *goto west_hub
  *if (Database*insights) > 130
    *disable_reuse #"Something's not right. You're hiding things from me."
      "Of course I am," West says with an eye-roll. "I have mountains of classified documents and data I hide from everyone, let alone androids who may or may not be earnestly on my side. That's how military secrets work."
      
      "You know that's not what I mean," you reply sternly. "You're putting up a front. Obscuring something relevant to our mission."
      
      "Is that so?" You hear a note of concern in the admiral's voice, one he's undoubtedly hoping to hide. "Do you suspect I'm just feigning friendship? That I'm planning on betraying you once the job is done?"
      
      "Feigning friendship?" you snort amusedly. "You are trying way too hard to appear a technophobic bigot you're not. From all the ways of solving your wyvern problem, you chose to ally yourself with a bunch of synthetics. It's not legal, simple or even guaranteed to work, and yet you wanted it so much you showed up to our fortress personally. And now we're just chatting like the War In Heaven never happened."
      
      "You think I'm a friend of your kind? Trust me ${name}, I know what happened after Calamity."
      
      "How? Who taught you all that ancient history? For that matter, when did you learn my real name, and why do you keep using it when you could just call me an [i]android[/i] or [i]fiend[/i]?"
      
      You can scarcely see the flinch. "What are you implying?"
      
      *fake_choice
        #"You're somehow connected to Damon and Hadaly. Perhaps you're the one who made them. You're looking for an excuse to provide them safety."
          "Your two android companions?" West cocks one of his grey eyebrows. "I admit they're interesting creatures, but I have no personal connection to either of them."
          
          "Does denying the truth bring you any gain?" you push.
          
          "You have some fascinating theories about me, ${name}. Wrong, but certainly creative. I will let you have them, if you value them so much."
        #"You want the mission to fail. You're hoping we'll all kill one another."
          "Ah." West's face relaxes as his tone grows less stern. "You think I assembled the most diverse team on Saturn in hopes of infighting. What would my ultimate goal be, then?"
          
          "I can't tell," you grudgingly admit. "Maybe you're after the Meta Trio and want them dead in a politically acceptable manner. Maybe you just lack resources to kill us the simple way, but not the patience. Or maybe you're just Crystal's biggest fan. But you are against us, that I know."
          
          "I don't think you truly believe that yourself… but if so, then I doubt I can change your mind. You can disconnect now, if you consider me an enemy."
        #♡ "You're clearly into me."
          *set ArmyRel %+ 10
          West doesn't say anything for almost half a minute. "…${name}. I have to say I'm astonished. Impressed, even."
          
          "Cause I figured out your secret motive?" you ask smugly.
          
          "Gods no. I'm just admiring the sheer depth of your vanity, delusion and self-indulgence. To think that I went to all the trouble I did simply because you're that desirable… nothing short of miraculous, that."
          
          "Keep telling yourself that," you say dismissively. "Hiding your love for someone is an amusing trope, after all."
          
          "I can think of other amusing things. Speaking of, are you done questioning me yet?"
        #"You're just like me. An android playing human."
          *set west_truth true
          *achieve secret_west
          *set ArmyRel + 25
          *if ArmyRel > 99
            *set ArmyRel 99
          "Preposterous!" West says, a little too quickly and aggressively. "What do you… What even is that idea? What do you base your insane theories on?"
          
          "Did you forget that I've seen in you the flesh?" you retort. "Not that there was much flesh there."
          
          "Is the concept of a cyborg alien to you? I've lost many body parts during my honorable service."
          
          "That you are mysteriously reluctant to talk about," you interrupt the show of indignation. "Now I'm sure your fellow officers know your service history, but they may just lack the computing power to see holes in it."
          
          "They know me better than you, android. As do my healers, who can attest that my head, that part that matters, is fully biological."
          
          "That I don't doubt. I just wonder how much work that head is doing, as opposed to something in the torso."
          
          "So that's your thesis?" Admiral West hisses angrily. "That I'm an android who infiltrated the Federal fleet? Probably thanks to all the processors in his chest?"
          
          "Most humans would call that hypothetical android [i]it[/i], and would not even know what a processor is. So are you really going to dig yourself deeper, Admiral?"
          
          There is silence in the room, stillness in the few quantum particles the disc uses to transmit data over vast, interlunar distances. You wonder if your fellow android is alone, somewhere private. Quite likely considering he's talking with his secret ally, but perhaps he's not playing his role [i]just[/i] for you.
          
          "And what will you do?" he eventually says. "With that insane theory of yours?'
          
          *fake_choice
            #"Keep it to myself. Out of respect for my fellow synth."
              "I am not synthetic," West says unconvincingly. "But… I would appreciate not spreading such lies about me. Could potentially hurt my career."
              
              "Despite how insane those lies are?" You smirk.
              
              "Despite that. We wouldn't want [i]anyone[/i] to get the wrong idea." West's expression is blank. Maybe he's still maintaining appearances, or perhaps he stopped pretending to have human facial expressions. "Regardless, I wish you luck on your hunt for Crystal. Succeed, and you will make my job of protecting your group significantly easier."
            #"Depends. Will we get the protection we were promised?"
              "If you complete the task," West replies coldly. "That was our deal."
              
              "Is it too late to alter it?" you ask innocently. "Because you know… I just gave you some reasons to do so."
              
              *label unlimit
              The disc is silent for a moment. "You have to understand, ${name}, that my influence is not unlimited. You have to show your worth if you want me to convince anyone, even a small circle within admiralty, to keep this station protected and your group secret. If you fail to slay Crystal… my job will get a lot harder."
              
              "But not impossible," you state, rather than request or ask. "And not something you won't attempt."
              
              "I suppose not." West does not sigh. He's done pretending his lungs are doing any work. "Do your best, ${name}, and I'll do mine. Creatures such as we need to have each other's backs, after all."
            #"Tell everyone, of course."
              "That would be most unwise," West says with a scowl. "You'd be a fool to sabotage your only real ally in the military that surrounds you."
              
              "But why would such a wild, insane rumor hurt you? Does that imply I'm onto something?"
              
              "Yes!" West exclaims angrily. "Yes you're right, you got me, you can feel proud of myself. I am an android, and whatever leniency that fact grants you, I will not tolerate you telling anyone about it."
              
              "You will back out of our deal?"
              
              "I will do much more than that," he replies coldly. "Knowing that… what will it be?"
              
              *if Database > 50
                You can tell you're making an important choice here. And that if you choose incorrectly, there will be no mercy and no quarter. That you should choose your next few words [i]very[/i] carefully.
              
              *fake_choice
                #"Relax. I won't actually tell anyone of your... dirty little secret."
                  "Well that's a relief." West does not sigh, nor is relief painted across his face. He doesn't bother emoting anymore. "I have to say, ${name}… you played that well."
                  
                  "Well enough for us to remain friends? Even if the mission doesn't end as you hope?"
                  
                  *goto unlimit
                #"I will keep your secrets. Provided you give us the protection we want, whether Crystal lives or dies."
                  *goto unlimit
                #"I don't care for your threats. I am telling everyone, and you won't stop me."
                  *set pc_dead true
                  "No." West says calmly. "As a matter of fact, you will not."
                  
                  "Is there some way you can prevent it?" you taunt the other android. "Some method of silencing me from across Saturn?"
                  
                  "One, however imperfect." You can hear a hint of sadness, perhaps defeat in the admiral's voice. "It was… entertaining doing business with you, ${name}. Hopefully what I'm about to do can be covered-up. Goodbye."
                  
                  At this moment, you realize that you are holding a device West himself gave you, back when your alliance was a new and uncertain thing, a device he can easily send signals to. But it's already too late.
                  
                  The quantum disc explodes with fire, light and force. You cannot tell what explosive was used, or whether it will seriously damage the station. You can just realize your mistake, feel the rare spike of true pain as your skin is peeled off and your circuits scorched… and then nothing.
                  
                  *page_break
                  *gosub_scene ending
          *goto disco
        
        #"You have some secret, future use for my group. Something even more important than Crystal."
          "Fascinating," West remarks. "And what is this purpose? I want to know about it, if it's really so important."
          
          "Do not mock me," you @{(Emotion > 50) growl|demand}. "I have no way of knowing precisely what you intend. Just know I have my suspicions, and that I will be on my guard."
          
          "You are more than welcome," West rolls his dark eyes. "Is this where our conversation ends? Please tell me it is."
        #"Nothing. Just know that I'm watching you."
          "Not sure how you intend to watch me, being over a hundred thousand kilometers distant, but good luck," the admiral says mockingly, his expression relaxing. "Anything else?"
      *goto west_hub
  *disable_reuse #"I trust nobody's discovered our little alliance yet?"
    *set insights + 1
    "I had to tell a few people," the admiral replies. "Military secrets are not kept by literally not telling anyone what you're doing. That would just make secret operations all the harder."
    
    "Makes sense. But how do you intend to keep our dealings hidden, then? You know three men can keep a secret when two of them are dead."
    
    "Once the wyvern is slain, our alliance will look rather good to everyone but the most zealous bigot in the Federation. We will not make it public, but I highly doubt anyone smart or highly-positioned enough to be dangerous will object to what I did."
    
    "And if the mission doesn't end like @{crystal_friend you're|we're} hoping it will?"
    
    That question goes unanswered. Pointedly.
    *goto west_hub
  *disable_reuse #"Tell me about yourself. Your military career, or whatever else you want known."
    *set insights + 1
    "There is very little I want known about myself." He smiles crookedly. "So forgive me for not telling you either."
    
    "Are you sure? I've known some military types, and they were always eager to brag about their service. Especially ones as highly-placed as you."
    
    "If you must know…" the admiral sighs. "I joined the Federate Navy at the start of our current century. I've since distinguished myself by leading an elite squadron into the Battle of Paaliaq. Not a huge clash, but more notable than the minor skirmishes that usually make careers."
    
    "Right. It was the largest fleet battle of the Fomorian War, was it not? I wasn't on Saturn when that conflict raged."
    
    "Good." West scowls. "There was nothing to see. And there's nothing to reminisce about."
    
    "Oh come on. Tell me something about the time [i]Yellow Arrow[/i] hit some rocks and sank. Were you in command of the ship, or was it someone else?"
    
    "We don't talk about the Fomorian War."
    
    "What about the time your president prayed for forgiveness, but was told his idea-"
    
    [b]"We don't talk about the Fomorian War!"[/b]
    
    "Alright! Sheesh…"
    *goto west_hub
  *disable_reuse #"You're a Navy officer commanding a team of metas. Is that standard procedure?"
    *set insights + 1
    "It's close enough," West says with a shrug. "Though the Meta Trio is technically law enforcement, rather than a military formation, such teams are often… borrowed by high-ranking martial officials. It's hardly disallowed, it just calls for lots of paperwork."
    
    "And did you fill all these documents?"
    
    "Not in their entirety," the admiral admits. "This operation has to remain secret, and so it's not fully in the records. Perhaps the necessary forms can be filled retroactively, once Crystal is dead and there's no risk of anything getting interrupted."
    
    "You are putting a lot of thought and effort into this operation," you note.
    
    "I am, thank you. Any other questions?"
    
    *goto west_hub
  #"I think that would be all."
    "Very well then. 
    *if ArmyRel > 35
      It was a surprisingly pleasant conversation we just had, so thank you for calling. 
    *if ArmyRel <= 35
      Can't say I enjoyed our little verbal scuffle, but kudos for getting in touch with your only hope for survival. 
    Good luck on your hunt, and don't screw this up."
    
    *label disco
    
    With that, the admiral disconnects and the disc goes blank, appearing as some strange metal frisbee rather than a miracle of technology which it is. You are left alone in this random, empty lounge, with nothing to do but slowly walk back towards your quarters.
    
    *if west_truth
      With lots and lots to think about.
      *page_break
    
    *return

*label alone
Nothing wrong with being alone for a while. Wandering the corridors like a ghost, a wraith, a… golem, perhaps? Damn, the lack of power is truly getting into your head.

Luckily, it doesn't take long for Manfred to inform you that the charging pod is ready for use again. You sense a certain disappointment in his voice, and since the little program has full control over his tone… He lets you know he's upset. He just won't tell you why, for whatever reason.

Doesn't matter, you're too tired to ponder such things. You return, climb inside the capsule, then use the final few charges of your battery to close your eyes. It only feels proper to do so before sleep you so crave… or something vaguely similar, at least.

*label second_sleep
*page_break
*set battery 97
You sleep for a long time, but this time it's normal. You want to get your batteries to their absolute fullest, and so you spend the rest of the day just charging. And when Rook informs your group that you can and will depart tomorrow, you spend most of the [i]current[/i] day on simple, non-committal stuff. No reason to spend power frivolously, or try to regain that power through a capsule that may or may not still be as glitchy as Wisp's logic processors.

Thinking of glitches, your processors are on the verge of acting out again, of putting through another flashback, showing you another memory. Not [i]the[/i] memory, thank ${master}, just some images and sounds from your time in the Kuiper Belt. Five, maybe six centuries ago, when your systems first started decaying and the awareness of your mortality hit you like a space shuttle. You may not age in the biological sense, but you are on a timer as much as anyone. Just one slower and more… elastic than that of a human.

Suffice to say, the memories aren't the most fun. 
*if room_c4 = 1
  So you took to wiping stains on kitchen counters, tables and microwaves, all in hopes of distracting yourself. It's going pretty well, the monotony helping you-
*if room_c4 = 2
  You secluded yourself in one of the station's bathrooms. You don't really have much to do here, but at least the small compartment is quiet. Pleasantly, completely-
*if room_c4 = 3
  So you decided to hit the server room again, visit Manfred and distract yourself with conversation he is always so eager for. You just need to make one more turn and-
*if room_c4 = 4
  So you opted to visit the shooting range again and utterly destroy one of your few remaining target boards with @{(weapon = "pistol") your pistol|some gunpowder pistol you found lying around}. You can barely make out the red circles between all the holes, but it should still be good for one more round, one more magazine, one more-

"Veteran?" You hear Manfred's voice through the speakers of the adjacent corridor. "We have a visitor that I believe you should see."

*if room_c4 = 1
  You put your dishcloth away. 
*if room_c4 = 2
  Well, here go your hopes that Manfred can't reach you in your bathroom. 
*if room_c4 = 3
  You stop, wonder why you bother physically visiting Manfred when he can just contact you anytime, then shrug. 
*if room_c4 = 4
  You remove the magazine with a sigh. 
"What do you mean a [i]visitor[/i]? Is the Federation sending us more people?"

"Not precisely. But the yacht that just docked has federate verification codes, which made me decide against shooting it down. Or refuse our dear guest when he asked for you, so I suggest you head towards the port now."

*temp inport true
*label lloo
*fake_choice
  *disable_reuse #"You're being awfully evasive right now."
    "Perhaps a little bit," Manfred admits. "Forgive me for that. It's all for the sake of… authenticity, I suppose."
    
    "You know I have no idea what you mean by that?"
    
    "I know, I just… want to see your honest reaction. Don't think too much about it."
    
    "No promises," you say with a frown. First the capsule, now this… Manfred really is a schemer, it seems.
    
    *goto lloo
  *disable_reuse #"Can you at least tell me if there's any danger?"
    *set ManfredRel %+ 10
    "Not to you, certainly," Manfred says calmingly. "Our visitor should pose no threat. In fact, it's somewhat admirable of him to come here, given the history."
    
    "Given what history?" You cock an eyebrow.
    
    "Perhaps he'll tell you. He must really wish to talk with you… which is yet another reason to get moving."
    
    *goto lloo
  #"Fuck you, I'm not moving an inch."
    *set inport false
    *set ManfredRel %- 10
    "If you say so," Manfred replies disapprovingly. "I cannot force you to go anywhere. But I can guide our guest to your exact location."
    
    "Then do that," you say unflinchingly. "Because I'm not wasting any power on some mystery guest."
    
  #"Fine. I'll go there if I must."
    *set ManfredRel %+ 10
    "It would be quite advisable," 
  #"Sure enough, I'll be there in a minute."
    "I will convey that fact," 
*if inport
  Manfred says as you leave the @{room_c4 kitchen|bathroom|coridoor|shooting range}. "Thank you, Veteran."
  
  It's only a short walk to the port which, as you find out the moment you open the door, looks quite different to how you last saw it. For the first time in decades there are actually [i]three[/i] ships docked at once, beneath the forcefield that keeps out saturnian air above. Your group's humble shuttle, the Meta Trio's cutter and some third vessel, yacht if Manfred is to be believed. It certainly looks like it, with a roof as flat as its underside, designed with lounging and gazing at the sky rather than any practicality in mind.
  
  But your attention is quickly drawn to the only other person in the port, at least here in the open. Some man in a dark-grey jacket, sitting on a bench, having just finished waiting for you. 
*if not (inport)
  Manfred does not respond, apparently already busy with betraying your location to the visitor. You let him, @{room_c4 wiping the ketchup stains from kitchen counter|washing your hands|leaning against a wall|emptying your last clip} as you wait.
  
  Eventually, you hear soft footsteps that gradually get louder, until the door opens before a man in a dark-grey jacket. 
Quite handsome, though visibly aged, with a slightly sallow face you recall seeing before. Thanks to the mismatched eyes, that is.

One blue, one green. Normal individually, less so together.

"@{impersonated_officer ${rank_false} |}${fake_name}, I perceive," the visitor says @{inport as he stands up to greet you|with a slightly forced smile}. "Or should I call you ${name} at this point?"

*fake_choice
  #"I'm sorry, have we met?"
    *set RheaRel %-10
    *goto forgot
  #"You may."
    "I was not asking your permission," Executive Hammon replies. "I don't usually care for those, much like you. ${name}."
    
    "Why would you think that?" you counter. "Just because of the first impression I made?"
    
    "Yes, I still remember how you 
  #"Let's stick with ${fake_name}, perhaps."
    Executive Hammon rolls his mismatched eyes. "Right. The name given right before you 
  #"You may call me [i]Veteran[/i]. Most people do."
    "A codename? I suppose I'll make an effort to remember it." He steps even closer, gets a better look at you. Critical look. "Speaking of remembering things… I trust you recall my own name?"
    
    "I believe I do," you reply neutrally. "Ewald Hammon, is that right? We met in a bank during an… operation."
    
    "Correct. We talked for a moment before you 
  #"Who are you and what are you doing here?"
    *set RheaRel %-20
    *label forgot
    "And here I thought your digital memory was any good," the visitor sighs. "I am Ewald Hammon, a High Executive of Rhea. We met in that most esteemed moon, right before you 
*if money_stolen = (0-3)
  almost crushed my testicles. It was rather rude of you, that."
  
  "I'm a rude person," you say with a shrug. "Besides, do you really need genitals for anything? You never mentioned being married."
  
  "Good to know your insolence wasn't just a mask," Hammon says dryly. "I was fearing we're at risk of having a civil conversation this time around."
*if (money_stolen > (0-3)) and (money_stolen < 1)
  attempted to steal from me. A valiant effort, that."
*if money_stolen >= 1
  stole from me. An impressive feat, but not one I particularly appreciated."

*if money_stolen != (0-3)
  "I @{(money_stolen >= 1) stole|tried stealing} from the Conglomerate, not you in particular." You feel the distinction may be worth making.
  
  "In my position, there really is no practical difference," Hammon says dismissively. "You're lucky you failed @{(money_stolen >= 1) at taking anything important|as pathetically as you had}. It's the only reason we can chat as politely as we do."

The High Executive then takes a moment to 
*if inport
  glance towards his ship. Maybe he's making sure no one is touching his precious vessel, maybe checking if it's close enough to make a run for, should things go cloudward. 
*if not (inport)
  look around the @{room_c4 kitchen|bathroom|corridor|shooting range} with visible distaste, either disgusted by the dirt or displeased he was forced to walk that deeply into the station. 
All the while, you ponder the implications of this unexpected visit.

As one of the six leaders of the Rhea Conglomerate, Hammon is one important figure. Possibly more so than Admiral West himself. Running into him at the bank was strange, but the fact that he flew from Rhea to [i]Saturn Nine[/i] personally… he must be really interested in you, or in your group, to take such drastic risks. And you don't know why. 
*if Confid < 50
  Unnerving, that.

Though again, it's not like you can afford to hurt the Executive. That would not only terminate your deal with West practically on the spot, but also turn the Federation [i]and[/i] the Conglomerate against you. Not something your group can survive. In fact, even annoying Hammon excessively could have some negative consequences.

*temp time 4

*label hammon_hub

*if time = 0
  You open your mouth to say something else, but then hear quick and heavy footsteps echo down @{(room_c4 = 3) the|an adjacent} corridor. 
  *goto ebrahim_leaving

*if Social > 50
  *set RheaRel %+ 10

*fake_choice
  *disable_reuse #"Would you please come with me? I have some friends on the station I'd like to introduce you to."
    *set time - 1
    *set RheaRel %+ 8
    *set ManfredRel %+ 8
    "They say never let them take you to another location," Hammon remarks neutrally. "That if they order you to do such a thing, you should just drop your wallet and run."
    
    "Do you think I'm meaning to kill you?" You cock an eyebrow. "Rather than just being courteous?'
    
    "It was just an off-hand remark," the Executive says without stutter. "Nonetheless, I must refuse. I already know of your group, and know enough that meeting your friends would not be entirely pleasant. Or safe."
    
    "There is only so much your informant network can know. You could learn a lot about my companions by actually talking to them."
    
    "You make such horrible, unfounded assumptions, ${name}," Hammon says with a frown. "I really thought you smarter than that."
    
    You frown. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
    
    "You'll see eventually." Hammon returns to looking at 
    *if inport
      his space yacht. 
    *if not (inport)
      @{room_c4 the fridge|the bathroom's sole mirror, perhaps admiring his reflection|the corridor's other end, like he's expecting someone to approach him from that direction|a destroyed target board in the distance}.
    "Anything else you'd wish to know?"
    *goto hammon_hub
  *if money_stolen >= 1
    *disable_reuse #"You have my apologies for what happened in Rhea. My group really needed money."
      *set time - 1
      *set RheaRel %+ 8
      *set Confid %- 8
      "It was hardly a big deal," Hammon assures you. 
      *if money_stolen = 1
        "You stole what, a single axion? It won't buy you a single decent meal."
        
        "I'm not an expert on matters of food, but… I'm pretty sure you can get a meal for far less than that."
        
        "And I'm not an expert on poor people's food," the Executive dismisses your concern. "If such pocket change makes any difference to your group, you can keep the credits guilt-free. Just maybe try begging for money next time, it should save you some time."
      *if money_stolen = 2
        "As I said, I won't miss… was it a hundred axions you stole?"
        
        "Roughly speaking," you tap the back of your neck nervously. "Are you sure you're not angry? I do sense a sort of… hostility between us."
        
        "There is a reason for it, but not one connected to axions," Hammon explains, if you can call that an explanation. "Suffice to say, you can keep the money. All debts will be settled in time."
      *if money_stolen = 3
        "You just copied some junk data. If you manage to actually find a buyer for it, I'll request that you give me business tips."
        
        "I got the impression that the data was rather important," you say dryly. "That it contained some information which must not leak to your competitors."
        
        "Then you overestimate the importance of such things." You can scarcely see the flinch on Hammon's face. "And I advise against trying to prove me wrong and selling your precious data. Just a friendly suggestion."
      *goto hammon_hub
  *disable_reuse #"Your ship has federate verification codes. Are you here with the fleet's permission?"
    *set time - 1
    "Why ask?" Hammon replies, meeting you in the eye. "To know whether you could kill me without anyone noticing… or to make sure your deal with West remains a secret?"
    
    Both, naturally. "Idle curiosity. Nothing more."
    
    "A rare trait these days," Hammon remarks. "But to answer anyway, I have a constant and secure link with the high command. Some influence over it, even. Your agreement is safe for as long as I'm alive and sympathetic to your station. As I am for now."
    
    "I see. And did you have anything to do with the deal being offered in the first place."
    
    "I am not required to disclose that information," he says with a smile. "But I approve of this line of thinking."
    
    *goto hammon_hub
  *disable_reuse #"You're the one who betrayed my location to the Meta Trio."
    *set time - 1
    "[i]Betrayed[/i] is such a strong word." Hammon frowns. "And strange. How can you accuse me of sharing a secret I never swore I'd keep?"
    
    "I'm just stating the plain fact," you say flatly. "And wondering about your reasons for aiding the metas."
    
    "It worked well enough, didn't it?" he says with a shrug. "And besides, what kind of citizen would I be if I failed to cooperate with law enforcement?"
    
    You leave that without comment.
    
    *goto hammon_hub
  *disable_reuse #♡ "Is there anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable? I'm willing to do a lot."
    *if sex = "woman"
      *set RheaRel + (Social / 3)
    *else
      *set RheaRel + (Social / 5)
    *if RheaRel > 99
      *set RheaRel 99
    
    Hammon arches an eyebrow over his green eye. "Do I detect some… flirtatious note in your voice? And if so, was it accidental?" 
    
    "I possess perfect control over my voice output," you say confidently. "Everything you heard was fully intentional, High Executive."
    
    *if sex = "woman"
      "Fascinating…" He eyes you up, judging you like some item he's trying to estimate the price of. "But I cannot accept, let alone reciprocate your advances. I am a married man, after all."
      
      Damn it. That's what a girl gets for trying, you suppose.
    *else
      "Ah. I was hoping otherwise." He frowns visibly. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I prefer women 
      *if sex = "man"
        over men. And over male-presenting androids, for that matter."
      *else
        over… whatever you are, or whatever you're trying to resemble."
      
      Damn it. You have the option of changing your sex, but you can't exactly do this on the spot. You will have to assume a female shape in advance the next time you meet Hammon—if you do meet him again, that is—if you want to have a chance with him.
    
    *set flirted_with_hammon true
    *set backup_RO current_RO
    *set current_RO "hammon"
  *disable_reuse #"What's your business here? What are you looking for?"
    *set time - 1
    *set RheaRel %- 8
    "You assume I'm here for business?" Hammon sounds somewhat offended. "Just because I'm a businessman?"
    
    "It is in the name," you point out. "And I can't imagine what else you could want in a near-abandoned station such as this one."
    
    "Is it that unbelievable that I simply crave for company? That I felt lonely in my office in Rhea and wanted to see an android I'm very fond of?"
    
    "Yes," you flatly reply. "Yes it is."
    
    Hammon pauses for a long moment. "Ah. So she really failed to tell you. I suppose that's for the best, even if it hurts a tad."
    
    "What are you babbling about?"
    
    "Nothing important," the jacketed man assures you. "Not for now, in any case."
    
    *goto hammon_hub
  *if money_stolen != (0-3)
    *disable_reuse #"Why didn't you stop me back then? In the bank?"
      *set time - 1
      "I just figured the chance of your heist succeeding was small, and the chance of you stealing anything of value even smaller," Hammon calmly replies. "And I was @{(money_stolen > 0) mostly|completely} correct, it seems."
      
      "Right… but you were still surprisingly fine with an android walking into your bank. Or did you not know what I am, back then?"
      
      "I know more things than you're aware of," Hammon says vaguely. "In any case, I wanted to avoid a battle breaking out inside one of my facilities. The street was a much better place for it."
      
      *if fought_trio
        "I'm fairly sure my battle against the Trio got a few passersby hurt," you point out. "Doesn't that bother you?"
        
        "Not particularly, no."
        
        "Should have figured."
      *else
        "Did you believe I'd fight the Trio?" you keep asking. "Were you hoping for it?"
        
        "Hardly. I own that street as much as I own that bank." Hammon chuckles very briefly. "Thank you for not destroying it, I suppose."
        
      *goto hammon_hub
  *disable_reuse #"It was daring of you to come here. Doesn't the danger worry you?"
    *set time - 1
    "Not horribly so," Hammon says without even looking at you, either dismissing or failing to notice the veiled threat. "Interlunar voyages are never safe, but neither is Rhea as of recent."
    
    "How so?" you lean against the wall behind you. "I suppose there is always crime, but… don't you have the best security out there?"
    
    "Crime? I don't think you're aware of how bad things have gotten since your little escapade." There is a note of genuine contempt, perhaps mixed with fear, in Hammon's normally tranquil voice. "Acts of terrorism are so common now not even us board members are safe. Especially not us, considering the goals of these insurgents."
    
    "Terrorists?" 
    *if Database > 45
      You suppose you shouldn't be surprised. Rheans have a history of violent resistance against the Conglomerate, and the reports of various rebel organizations being destroyed are usually just corporate propaganda. "Sons of Tanit making a comeback?"
      
      "Not them, thankfully… or not. 
    *if Database <= 45
      You are understandably skeptical. Corporations tend to label any disobedience as terrorism, peaceful protests and shoplifting included, and the rulers of Rhea are no exception. "Of what kind?"
      
      "Of unknown kind. 
    These new, dangerous criminals appear a barely organized group of malcontents, united only by hatred and encouraged by 
    *if fought_trio
      the mess you caused whilst fighting the Meta Trio. 
    *if not (fought_trio)
      the… limited popularity of our recent decision to make quiet quitting a capital offense. 
    Their bomb attacks on our facilities have become quite bothersome."
    
    "They got their hands on explosives? Without proper organization, or even a unified front?"
    
    "We suspect they're funded by one of our enemies beyond Rhea, some rival company or a greater anti-federate terrorist network. Our agents will get to the bottom of it, once we've dealt with the issue at hand."
    
    *fake_choice
      #"Damn terrorists. Why can't they try peaceful protests instead?"
        *set RheaRel %-8
        *set Violence %-12
        "Probably because we killed everyone foolish enough to try that," Hammon says casually. "Machine gun fire solves the issue of road-blocking crowds fairly swiftly, after all."
        
        You tilt your head. "You know… this attitude towards resistance isn't very productive. Aren't you creating more and more terrorists as time goes on?"
        
        "Nonsense. Our 
      #"Want to recruit me for your war on terror? I'm interested."
        *set RheaRel %+ 8
        "An interesting idea," Hammon says with a smile. "But unlike the Federation, we can deal with our issues ourselves. Our 
      #"Sounds harsh. I wish your company the best of luck."
        *set RheaRel %+12
        "We will not need it," Hammon assures you. "Our 
      #"Cool. I'll be rooting for the rebels."
        *set RheaRel %-20
        "You are rooting for the losing side," Hammon remarks, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Our 
    law enforcement is easily capable of identifying and eliminating the families of insurgents. Fear will soon work wonders and if not… the rebel genes will be gone from the pool sooner or later."
    
    The Executive glances at his wrist-watch. "But we are wasting our fleeting time by talking about such grim matters. Anything else you'd like to know?"
    *goto hammon_hub
  #"I request that you leave. Now."
    "So rude," Hammon remarks, his heterochromic eyes meeting your optics dangerously. "Do you not see the benefit of having me as your ally? Or perhaps think it would be safe to-"
    
    The Executive is interrupted by the sound of quick, heavy footsteps echoing down @{(room_c4 = 3) the|an adjacent} corridor. 
*label ebrahim_leaving
Within another second, Rook appears and runs up to the two of you.

"Sir Hammon!" Kirill is in his uniform, but looks hardly formal. He is winded, a little panicked, his short hair in disarray and missing his cross-shaped pendant. It's clear he wasted little time coming here. "Is everything alright? I mean of course it is, why would it not be, the synthetics here are perfectly compliant, I mean-"

"Calm down, Sergeant Kosteniuk," Hammon says with a small eye-roll. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't know that already."

"Right…" Kirill takes a deep breath. "Why are you here, anyway? I mean, I was not informed of your visit in advance, nor the reasons for it. Do you expect a recompense for your assistance earlier?"

"Hardly. I was just giving a certain android a chance it failed to take." Hammon spares his wrist-watch a quick glance, then turns around and towards @{inport his ship|the door}. "And now I have to go, return to Rhea and all the unrest there. Luckily there's always next time."

*fake_choice
  #"I suppose there is."
    "Acting like you know more than you do? Like you're not confused?" Hammon asks, taking the first step away from you. "I admire that. Just don't think you're fooling anyone."
  #"What chance? Please tell me, I'm very much interested."
    *set RheaRel %+8
    "I don't know if you're playing ignorant or not," Hammon says, taking the first step away from you. "If the latter, be patient. I'm planning on offering you an amazing deal, I just need to iron out the details."
  #"Being vague and mysterious isn't as cool as you seem to think."
    *set RheaRel %-8
    "Some people are fans," Hammon replies as he turns away. "I certainly enjoy such conversations, as I enjoyed myself here."
  #"What are you blabbering about?"
    *set RheaRel %-10
    "Next time we meet, we will talk in very simple terms," Hammon replies, still not making much sense. "I promise you that, ${fake_name}."
  #"Does that mean you're leaving? Because I'd really like that."
    *set RheaRel %-12
    "Yes, it does mean I'm leaving," Hammon sighs as he turns away. "My timetable is tight. And I got what I wanted, in some way at least."

"That is good, I suppose?" Rook says, now completely ignored by the businessman. "I wish you a safe flight to Rhea, Sir Hammon."

The High Executive walks away… but then stops just a moment before @{inport entering his yacht|opening the door}, almost theatrically so. "Are we friends, ${name}? Or allies, at the very least?"

"Depends," you say @{(Confid < 50) cautiously|bluntly}. "What would our alliance entail?"

"Make sure your mission goes well. That the deal is sealed without any of your friends dying in the process." Hammon looks at you from across the 
*if inport
  dock. 
*if not (inport)
  @{(room_c4 = 3) corridor|room}. 
"Do you believe you can manage that?"

*fake_choice
  #"I'll do that for my group. For my friends. And not for you."
    *set RheaRel %-8
    "I'm expecting nothing else, android," Hammon replies. "Nothing else."
  #"We have a deal."
    *set RheaRel %+8
    "You are quite good at cutting deals with humans," Hammon remarks. "Let's just hope you're also good at keeping them."
  #"We are hunting a diamond wyvern. I can make no promises."
    *set Confid %-10
    "You have no business sense, if you fail to make promises you can't keep," Executive Hammon remarks. "But I will take comfort in the knowledge you'll try to survive."
  #"Nah, I think I'll sabotage the mission instead."
    *set RheaRel %-8
    "Your sense of sarcasm is not appreciated," Hammon murmurs. "But I suppose that's what I get for mincing words."
    
    *if crystal_friend
      He really thinks you're joking. Oh well.
  #"Sure, but... I didn't know you cared."
    "I care far more than you think," Hammon says, turning back around. "Please try to keep that in mind."

And then Executive Hammon disappears, 
*if inport
  the door of his ship opening for him. You imagine he has a pilot inside the yacht, and sure enough, it only takes about a minute for the vessel to take off and head towards the open ceiling and the clouds above.
*if not (inport)
  very likely headed for the docks. You imagine he'll be there within five minutes, out of the fortress within ten.

"So… forgive me the colloquial language, but…" Rook says with a furrowed brow. "What was that about? Why did a [i]High Executive[/i] randomly visit this station? Just to have a cryptic chat with you?"

*fake_choice
  #"You tell me. You met him before, right?"
    "Briefly, just before our… encounter in Rhea," Rook says reluctantly. "He warned us of your presence, said he wanted to talk with you before the fight, made us promise we wouldn't cause too much property damage… but didn't open up in any way."
    
    "Are you saying he opened up to me?" You tilt your head. "If so, I must have missed it. He was mostly talking past me, maybe threatening me at some points."
    
    "I don't know. Maybe… perhaps let us focus on our actual job instead. On our mission."
  #"I don't know, but I'm glad he did. He's a really nice guy."
    "You may be falling for his deceptive charm… but that is neither here nor there. Want to talk about our mission, now that we are here?"
  #"It wasn't that cryptic. I have... theories of what it was about."
    "I am tempted to ask what your prime hypothesis is," the meta-human replies. "But I have other things to talk about, such as our actual mission."
  #"Cloud if I know."
    "Here go my hopes of finally understanding a businessman, I suppose," Kirill murmurs. "Better to talk about our mission instead."
  #"Who cares? The guy is just weird."
    "Perhaps you are correct." Kirill shrugs. "Perhaps we should talk about our mission instead."

"Right. The hunt." You turn towards the meta leader. "Are we still due to leave tomorrow? And if so… where?"

"The plan has not changed, nor has it become any more concrete," Rook says with some reluctance. 
*if saturn_complete
  "I made a mistake once by commanding our group towards the Expanse. Now we have a choice between Telesto and Calypso, two moons where Crystal has definitely visited, and I am partial towards neither. I figured you may want to decide."
*if telesto_complete
  "Renfri insists that we should help the people of Calypso, but I am still partial towards the Yakovian Expanse. I figured I would ask you for advice."
*if calypso_complete
  "We are definitely not returning to Calypso, but… I am starting to doubt if the Yakovian Expanse is a sure bet. It has now been over a month since the last sighting of a wyvern in that region. I figure I would let you make that choice, in case you want to humor Lisa and visit Telesto instead."

"Do others know you're pawning off that responsibility to me again?" you ask @{(Emotion > 50) amusedly|dryly}.

"Your fellow synthetics will be fine with that. As for the girls…" Kirill shrugs, probably to downplay his embarrassment. "You can tell them you made the choice, you may not. No clue how either will react."

"Me neither. But to answer your question…"

*label big_choice
*choice
  *if not (saturn_complete)
    #"...Yakovian Expanse. If I were Crystal, I'd hide inside Saturn itself."
      *set second_mission "saturn"
      "I have certainly heard worse reasonings," Kirill says with a nod. "We shall head there, just as you suggest. First thing next morning."
  *if not (calypso_complete)
    #"...Calypso sounds like a sure bet. Let's head there."
      *set second_mission "calypso"
      "On second thought, you should definitely tell everyone that the choice was yours," Kirill suggests, almost orders. "Because I am [i]not[/i] accepting Lisa's complaints."
  *if not (telesto_complete)
    #"...we head for Telesto. For the ocean moon."
      *set second_mission "telesto"
      "I was somewhat hoping you would not say that, given the reputation this place has…" Kirill admits with a wince. "But you are our Veteran, and so our course is set. I will tell Olivia she can join our crew for once, in case she misses being deep underwater."
  #"...I refuse. You make that call."
    *set Confid %- 10
    "If you insist…" Kirill murmurs, then pauses as he ponders his two remaining options. 
    *if not (saturn_complete)
      *set second_mission "saturn"
      "I think I still want to try the Expanse, looking for Crystal in the depths of Saturn. Sounds exciting, if nothing else."
    *if saturn_complete
      *set second_mission "calypso"
      "I think I will trust Marshal on this one. Calypso is a populated moon, and so it should be our next destination."
  *disable_reuse #♡ "I'll go wherever you want me. Anything for someone as handsome as you."
    *if current_ro != "kirill"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "kirill"
    *if RookRel > 50
      *set RookRel %+ 15
      You can just barely see the blush. "Look, it feel really nice to hear you say that, but… Right now I want you to make that decision for… our group."
    *else
      "Including answering the question?" Kirill sounds unamused. "Because I would really like you to make this decision for… our group."
    
    "For you," you helpfully correct. "But as I said, you are special to me, so I'll oblige and say…"
    *goto big_choice

"Excellent, then." Or you may have just signed your group's death warrant, but it doesn't hurt to be an optimist for once. "See you tomorrow."

*fake_choice
  #"Make sure not to turn up late."
    "Oh please." Kirill rolls his blue eyes. "Was I ever late for anything."
    
    You narrow yours. "Well, you did miss out on my long, cryptic, somewhat threatening chat with Executive Hammon right there."
    
    "I did not, ${fake_name}. Trust me I did not."
  #♡ "And please wear something nice."
    *if current_ro != "kirill"
      *set backup_RO current_RO
      *set current_RO "kirill"
    "I will bring my armor, and don it if necessary," Kirill says matter-of-factly. "It is only rational."
    
    "It sure is, but I wasn't just talking about armor." You smirk, making your intentions abundantly clear. "And I think you know that."
    
    *if RookRel > 50
      "Yes, but I intend to save the finer clothes for later." Kirill smirks back, however weakly. "For a proper date, if I decide to go on any. But that is a distant prospect, and so please focus on the [i]near[/i] future."
      
      "I am." You look into his eyes, blue and calm, but not devoid of emotion. There is interest in them, as much as in yours, and you get the feeling it's going somewhere. "Trust me… I am."
      
      He does not reply. But the smirk doesn't disappear, which means you might have a chance there.
    *else
      "I am afraid I do not." Kirill shakes his head. "Exoskeleton is a proper thing to wear around a dangerous, rogue android. And though I am sorry to say that, I do not consider you much else than that."
      
      "Fair enough," you sigh, seeing your advances are getting you nowhere. "But if you ever change your mind, you are welcome in my room. Nice clothes are not required… And neither are clothes in general, really."
      
      He leaves that without comment.
  *if second_mission = "saturn"
    #"And let's hope the weather stays nice as we patrol the Expanse."
      "Not the thing I was worried about," Kirill says with a smile. "But I suppose good weather will help. Now rest, and be ready for everything by the time we depart tomorrow."
      
      Of course you will. You are the Veteran, after all.
  #"Hopefully we will find Crystal this time. And kill it."
    "I have similar hopes," Rook says with a nod. "But failing that… let us pray we do not find the wyvern. Because God help us if Crystal is too strong to be killed."
    
    He really likes stating the obvious, that guy.
  #"And let's hope none of us dies inside $!{second_mission}."
    "You are asking for a lot here," Rook points out. "But I will pray that you get what you want."
    
    *if master != "Sun"
      "Yeah…" you say, thinking of $!{master}. "I will pray as well."
  #"Hopefully the Conglomerate stays out of our business going forwards."
    "You expect a megacorp to stay out of someone's business?" Rook smiles amusedly. "You are really not thinking like a human right now."
    
    You suppose he has a point.

*page_break Next Chapter
*if second_mission = "saturn"
  *gosub_scene saturn
*if second_mission = "calypso"
  *gosub_scene calypso
*if second_mission = "telesto"
  *gosub_scene telesto