Note to Readers:

To those who are or have been reading this story, thank you. This is a work in progress, so I do occasionally update small details in each chapter to stay consistent, but I'll never change major plot events. If you read this story and like it, I would appreciate a review just so I know my efforts to continue writing are not in vain. If you have any comments or questions about it(like details I didn't explain or inconsistencies), please let me know. And once again, I give my thanks to anyone who reads this story, I hope you enjoy.

"I look upon the stars and what do I see?" spoke her invisible mother from the darkness.

But the young woman couldn't answer. She didn't know the answer. Maybe she didn't know it then, but maybe someday she would.

"More stars, I guess," she answered anyway.

There was a long moment of silence between them. It was a painful kind of silence. This was the kind of silence that burned a hole in her heart.

"Mother?" she prodded at the cold darkness of the room hoping to feel something, anything. "I..."

There would never be a reply, so she wept. She wept because her mother was dead. Her mother would never be there because her mother had died five years ago. Sometimes in the darkness of the night, she would find herself struggling against sleep as memories from the past came to taunt her. It was a true burden being able to remember things in such vividness. There are things that haunt us all and Henrietta Monroe was no exception to that rule; however, she was not Henrietta Monroe. Henrietta Monroe is a shadow of the person she really is. Henrietta Monroe is the mask she wears to hide who she really is: a truly horrible person.

It was raining in Detroit that day as the skies were fogged up with murky clouds. She stood at the edge of the intersection not paying any particular attention to the world. The droplets from above trickled down her ruddy face and plastered her long, golden-red hair to her cheeks. She had forgotten why she was even standing at that street corner. What was she doing? She had forgotten to bring an umbrella with her despite the downfall. This wasn't any good, mainly because it was her first day reporting to her new assignment. She couldn't show up at the station looking like a depressed, wet dog.

It had been almost one year since androids were liberated by Markus. For the most part, things had settled down in this new world. Androids were still fighting an uphill battle in attempts to gain true freedom. Just because it said they were equals on paper doesn't mean they actually were. Connor knew this. Connor knew this because he was an android and he was there that fateful day. If it wasn't for Markus, who knows what would have happened to the machine known as Connor Android RK800.

"First real android detective," Hank patted Connor on the shoulder and grinned.

"It is what I was originally programmed to do," Connor's response rang cold.

"Yeah, but you could have done anything," Hank tried to explain. "But you did this and you've done great."

Connor did his best to offer Hank a smile, though he knew Hank wasn't going to fall for it. Connor was glad to be a real detective, at least he thinks he is. It didn't feel like much of an accomplishment though. Connor was intended to be superior to most at detective work, hence his feelings towards this supposed achievement.

"All I'm saying is learn to take a fucking compliment," Hank gave Connor another solid pat on the back.

"Alright," this time Connor's smile was more genuine. "Thanks, Lieutenant."

"You're late," the Captain narrowed his eyes at her, seeming to be a bit disdainful.

"I had something important to attend to." which was somewhat a lie. "I apologize."

"You're failing to impress me so far. I don't take too kindly disobedient officers."

"No offence, sir, but I don't actually take my orders directly from you," there was no malice in her voice, just calm resolve. "But I can assure you this won't happen again."

"Jesus Christ," the Captain muttered this to himself in hopes she didn't notice.

"Excuse me, sir?" again, she was perfectly calm.

"Hank isn't going to happy about this. He hasn't had positive experiences with the FBI so far." he studied her with somewhat of a grimace.

"I'm here to help, not cause problems, sir," she understood that not everyone would appreciate her involvement.

Captain Fowler slowly got up from his desk and stepped outside of his office.

"Hank, Connor," he called the two men and gestured toward his office.

"Fucking great," Hank murmured at Connor and rolled his eyes.

"Anytime!" the Captain snapped at them and was clearly losing his patience.

Connor wasn't always sure what to do in these circumstances. It was part of his job to listen to the Captain; however, he preferred to mirror some of Hank's actions. Hank once told Connor that you shouldn't bend to the demands of others so willingly, even those of your superiors. There were subtleties in human actions that Connor still had a difficult time grasping. Hank would get distraught if Connor copied too many of his actions; on the other hand, Hank would get upset if he didn't act like him at all. Connor sees Hank as his best friend and he is grateful for that, but sometimes he just didn't understand humans at all.

By the time Fowler turned back into his office, Hank got up from his chair. Connor followed this.

"I doubt it's anything to worry about," Connor tried to ease Hank's stress by being positive in most situations.

"Not sure if you noticed, but I'm pretty sure that woman he has been talking to is FBI."

"I did a facial scan of her when she arrived at the office," Connor explained. "Her name is Henrietta Olivia Monroe. She was born on October 27th, 2015. She is currently a Special Agent for the FBI."

"Seems a bit young to be a Special Agent," Hank commented.

"It is not uncommon for FBI Agents to be as young as 23," Connor thought about his own age and the fact that he was a detective. "If it helps you to understand, I am not even a year and a half old myself."

"You're not a human, Connor," Hank scoffed at Connor's nonsensical reply. "It's not really the same thing."

The two officers finally entered the Captain's office. Henrietta already knew who they were and their track record and she was certain they already knew a thing or two about her. Obviously, they didn't know everything because nobody knew everything about Henrietta.

"I would like the two of you to meet-" Fowler didn't have time to finish his sentence before Connor interrupted him.

"Special Agent Henrietta Monroe," Connor had a bad habit of cutting off humans mid-sentence when he probably shouldn't have.

"Alright," the Captain sighed in annoyance. "We will skip the introductions. Agent Monroe has been assigned to assist the two of you in your case."

"What case are you talking about, Jeffery?" as far as Hank was aware, they had no case currently assigned to them.

"You've recently investigated three separate cases involving androids that committed homicide," Henrietta spoke so coldly and calmly. She always tried to present herself in the most professional capacity possible. "You had suspected the three cases were related, but you were told it would not be your responsibility to investigate them further. The two of you are now being taken off of homicide to specifically investigate this case."

"Okay..." Hank looked both annoyed and confused. "What does this have to do with the FBI?"

"Any cases involving androids are still considered highly sensitive," Henrietta gave Hank a long, hard look. "We have three androids who committed the same crime for the exact same reason. The question is: why? I was told all three androids confessed to the crimes and even expressed guilt for their actions. To the FBI it appears androids are being exploited to commit dangerous crimes."

Connor agreed with her on this one. The androids that confessed to the murders were afraid and nervous when they were interrogated. Connor and Hank agreed there had to be some sort of connection between the three crimes. The biggest connection that they suspected was the presence of Red Ice at each crime scene. All three androids said the assaults were drug deals gone wrong. The victims used Red Ice and owed somebody money, so the androids were sent to rough them up, but instead of being just pushed around the victims ended up dead.

"I've been informed you have a lot of experience dealing with Red Ice take-down operations," she twitched her head to the side and looked at Hank. "So, with your past experience and the fact the two of you worked on the android homicides, you've been given this case. The FBI wants to keep a close eye on this situation, so I've been assigned to assist the two you. I want you to understand that I am not in charge of this case nor am I here to impede your progression. I am solely here to assist the two of you in whatever capacity I can. I take my orders from the two of you, not the FBI."

"How do think you can help us exactly?" Hank turned to Connor. "We've already got Connor. He catches things most humans don't and I catch things most androids don't."

"Sometimes a third perspective helps," for once Henrietta gave away a slight grin. "I think you'd both be surprised by what I am capable of doing. I assure you I will be a great asset to your team."

"I assume you will want to review the evidence that we collected from the three cases?" Connor inquired as the three of them exited the Captain's office together.

"Yes, of course," Henrietta replied immediately. "that was my thought exactly."

"Well, I'm going for lunch," Hank added without even batting an eye at the two.

"I will review the evidence with her, Lieutenant," Connor promptly nodded in Hank's direction even though he was no longer paying attention to them.

"I don't need assistance; I can go over everything on my own," Henrietta was aware that working with Connor could be a possible detriment to her.

"You don't have access to the evidence locker," Connor informed her. "Also, I can offer additional explanations and assistance if you require such."

"I have a feeling that you and Hank probably don't trust me," in fact, that was the feeling she got from most people she had to work with.

"No..." Connor replied defensively. "That did not occur to me. You made your intentions clear. You have yet to give me a reason not to trust you."

If only he knew the truth. He would know Henrietta was a rather gifted liar; it was her job after all. That's what her life had been for so long; a web of lies.

Connor gave her access to all the evidence from the three cases, including the interrogations that Hank performed on the suspects. All the suspects admitted to the murders and explained their motives. They were responsible for acquiring unpaid debts from drug users. They were told to gain payment by any means possible, but they were never explicitly instructed to commit murder; however, that is what happened. The three androids also refused to offer any information on who they worked for; nonetheless, they confessed to the murders.

"We were never able to get information about who they worked for," Connor said it as if she were ignorant of this fact. "I think that's what frustrated Hank the most. We were told we wouldn't have anything to do with that part of the case. It was our responsibility to catch and detain the suspects, but that was it. You think Hank would be happy now that we are trying to put a stop to the whole operation."

"I think he wishes he didn't have to work with the FBI," Henrietta was listening to Connor, but she was placing most of her attention on the videos they had watched. "I noticed a few things."

"Really?" Connor was actually shocked. What could she have noticed that he himself was unable to? "What did you see? I'm sure it's something we're already aware of."

"Did you notice the way they blinked?" Henrietta knew he hadn't because she knew he wasn't looking for it. "Or how they displayed a particular speech pattern?"

"I don't see how that's relevant to the investigation, Agent," Connor felt suddenly out of touch with the world. What did she see that he couldn't?

"It means there's something wrong in the software of these androids," Henrietta knew she would find something; she came here knowing she would find something. "There's an error in their programming, a bug of some kind."

"How can you tell?" Connor still didn't understand what was going on.

"They repeat the same blinking pattern every seventy-three seconds," she waited for Connor's response.

"That doesn't make sense," Connor was well aware of how androids were supposed to function, but things have changed since the Revolution. Androids were perfectly capable of acting in rather unconventional ways. Even so, some things would never change. "Androids are programmed to have randomized blinking patterns in order to seem as natural as possible; there should be no repeating pattern."

"Exactly," Henrietta pointed at him. "And their speech. Did you notice that they never used a contraction while they were talking? That's something that androids should be capable of doing."

"I detected no anomalies in their software at that time," if something was wrong, Connor was certain he could have detected it.

"Maybe it's not something a machine can see," if Henrietta took pride in one thing, it was the parts of her that were more than that. "They couldn't see it themselves, but there is something wrong with them, Connor. You can see that much, right?"

"I believe you," Connor assumed that this is what it felt like to be offended. He doubted it was her intention to insult him, but what she said did hurt him in a way.

"What we need is to access their code," Henrietta did not pick up on Connor's hurt feelings. She often felt detached from humanity, maybe in a way that Connor wasn't.

"The only way to do that would be to probe them," Connor shook his head in disagreement. "If they were unwilling to give us information about whom they worked for, they won't agree to be probed."

"Maybe," Henrietta paused for a moment to think. "Maybe they won't agree to be probed, but maybe they will allow us to examine specific programs that their systems are running. The errors I noticed were related to speech and physical movements, not memories. The only thing they have to hide is what's in their memories, which we won't need to access."

"I think you're asking for a lot," Connor spoke doubtfully. "What if they don't even agree to that?"

"If you have an idea that will propel this investigation forward, I would be glad to hear it," she stared at him silently.

"I don't."

"I contacted the detention centre about our suspects," Henrietta gently placed a cup of coffee down at Hank's desk. "I scheduled a visit for 3 o'clock tomorrow."

"Is that for me?" Hank furrowed his brow at her.

"I overheard you complaining about being tired to Connor," she smiled insincerely at him.

"Well, if there's nothing left to do today, I think I'll go anyways," Hank pushed the cup back into her hands as he got up from his desk. "I think I need a drink."

She kept her eyes on him until he left the building; Connor had noticed this.

"Are you okay, Agent?" he detected sadness in her expression.

"Of course," she snapped out of it. "What do you do when there's no work to be done?"

"There's always work to be done," Connor chirped. "I'm very good at filing reports. There are plenty of other officers here who I find will need additional assistance from time to time."

"Tomorrow..." Henrietta hesitated. She wasn't even sure why she was bothering with small talk. Henrietta didn't make friends and Henrietta didn't have a family. Henrietta had her work, which was all she needed, or so she's told.

"Tomorrow?" Connor wondered why she stopped before she completed a thought. When he looked at her, he saw her eyes glaze over as she abruptly seemed lost.

"Nothing." and she left without another word.

"Hank?" Henrietta sat down on the bar-stool next to him.

"Yeah...?" he turned to her and looked annoyed. "What are you doing here? How'd you even find me?"

"You said you were getting a drink so I checked whatever bars were closest to the station," this was a lie, she already knew Hank frequented Jimmy's.

"You know who you remind me of?" he chuckled to himself. "You remind me of Connor when I first met him."

"Is that a good thing?" she hoped it was.

"I didn't like him when I first met him," he chugged the last bit of whisky in his glass. "But things can change. I used to come here a lot more. Not as much now."

"Is that a good thing?" she hoped it was.

"Yeah, yeah. Things have gotten better," he glanced at her. "But sometimes they get worse."

"You're not happy about my presence," she placed personal importance on Hank's approval of her. "I'm not here to be a burden. Hank, I..."

"What?" and he saw what Connor saw earlier. He saw that sudden expression of being lost in the world.

"To be honest, being here with the two of you is difficult for me as well," she frowned. "I really didn't want this. You have no idea how complicated everything is, but I didn't have a choice. All we can do now is make the best of it."

Hank couldn't come up with a response to that remark.

"Goodnight, Lieutenant."

"I know it hurts, child," Dr. Polanski always seemed sympathetic, but Henrietta fucking hated him. She hated him and everyone here.

"You don't know what real pain is, Mister Polanski," she gritted through her teeth and tears. "Real pain is being shredded to pieces while watching all your friends fucking die."

"You need to calm down, Henri," he shushed her and patted her damp forehead.

"This is nothing in comparison!" she barked at him and jerked from the table. "This is nothing!"

He sedated her. She had one hell of a temper, and for a good reason, but it was not helpful to her recovery.

"She's tough, but not very cooperative," Dr. Polanski turned his attention to Captain Davis.

"She's tough and that's all that matters," Captain Davis also fucking hated Dr. Polanski. For all he was concerned, Dr. Polanski was the real monster. "Is it going to work?"

"She has thus far been my most successful patient," Dr. Polanski knew everyone fucking hated him, that was the burden of his career. "She's going to make it. She's going to be okay."

"When can we expect to get her into training?" Captain Davis cared about Henrietta's well being; however, he had a job to do.

"She's not going to have an easy time adapting to the world now," he stroked her forehead with compassion. "It will take her a couple weeks to get fully back on her feet."

"And when she does?" asked the Captain.

"When she does you'll be happy you agreed to this," the doctor looked sorrowfully at the young woman that was Henrietta on the table. "I doubt she will, though."