Jack Cooper gazed out the transport window, soaking in the lovely glow of the planet Harmony. He closed his eyes, heaving a long, relieved sigh. Only a few short hours earlier, Harmony had been on the brink of annihilation. As had Jack. Instead, he and BT had been lauded as heroes. He pressed his forehead to the window, letting its coolness soothe his steadily strengthening headache. At his side, his helmet flickered again, and he lifted it up to cradle it against himself, hugging it.

"Don't worry, Buddy." He murmured, uncertain as to whether BT could hear him or not, but entirely positive that the AI was in there. Minutes after he had finally settled in his seat, he had noticed the flashing signal, and had confirmed with a comms expert that the flashing meant something. BT had been calling to him. "We're going to get you out of there as soon as we're planetside." He lowered his head back to the window, exhausted.

"You okay, Coop?" Someone called from across the aisle. Jack lifted his head, blinking back at the other soldier. His eyelids were hot on his eyes.

"Yeah, just…pretty wiped out, yanno?" His compatriot laughed.

"Heh, yea I guess so!" Jack smiled indulgently and slid into slumber, hugging his helmet to himself.

He awoke on reentry, the turbulence shaking him awake with a jolt. Jack's mind tumbled as he tried to grasp what was happening, and where he was. Memories collided, shaking him harder than the rattling ship around him, and he groaned, doubling over to spew a puddle of bile between his heels. Someone next to him swore, and a reassuring hand fell on his shoulder as he heaved a second time, only to come up empty. He sat back, wiping his face, and clamped his eyes shut against the jarring motions. Despite everything, he slipped from consciousness once again.

Someone was shaking him by the shoulder, and Jack sat upright with a shout, recoiling defensively. His vision cleared as the fellow Pilot leapt back, wary of Jack's potential to lash out, fresh from the battlefield as he was. Jack sagged, defenses dropping at the sight of the friendly uniform. The other man tilted his torso to one side, head canted as he gave Jack a concerned look.

"You doing alright, Pilot?" Jack recoiled as the other man reached out, brushing his knuckles against Jack's sweat-coated forehead. "You look like you've got a fever cookin'." The Pilot added, his eyes crinkled at the corners with concern. Jack blinked blearily. The man's voice was familiar.

"That would explain the headache…" Jack mused. The other pilot agreed, nodding, and stuck a hand out to Jack.

"Lieutenant Freeborn. You and BT saved my ass from a bunch of Scorches" Jack took his hand, becoming taken aback as Freeborn levered him to his feet instead of shaking his hand properly. The Lieutenant grimaced faintly. Jack's hands shook and his palms were sweaty. "How bout I show you where Medical is, huh?" He offered. Jack hesitated, and his companion frowned. "Hey, I saw you dump your cookies on reentry," Freeborn pressed. "It's probably just shock, but you shouldn't have to endure the woozies when they can give you something to fix it right up." As if reminded, Jack's stomach twisted unhappily, threatening more heaving. Jack nodded.

"Yeah, maybe. I appreciate it." He wobbled after Freeborn, but hesitated again. "Hey…" The Lieutenant paused, looking back at Jack. "Mind showing me to Engineering first?" He held up his helmet, which was flickering again. "I think…" He lowered it back down to cradle it against his abdomen. "I think BT's in here." Freeborn's eyes lit up happily.

"Seriously?" He exclaimed, a broad smile stretching over his features. "Aww, that'd be so great if BT made it too!" Jack whole heartedly agreed.

Jack left Medical two hours later with a bottle of pills in hand, an inconclusive diagnosis, and a week-long medical leave. Whatever he'd been given had soothed the headache and nausea somewhat. What he needed, he was told, was a proper meal and a good, long nap. Jack didn't disagree. Still, he passed back by the Engineering Center as he headed for the Cafeteria, and he couldn't help but stop, poking his head in.

"Cooper!" Several technicians stopped what they were doing and saluted. Jack grimaced. News traveled fast. Really fast. He didn't like the attention, regardless of its positivity. Everyone knew his face and his name, when the day prior, he had been an absolute nobody. He stepped the rest of the way through the door, smiling sheepishly. He returned the salute, unsure of how else to handle it.

"You were right!" To one side, a fairly petit young woman smiled broadly at him. He blinked rapidly, stunned by the sight of the woman's long, unkempt, and alarmingly neon pink hair. He'd recognize Commander Briggs' Chief Mechanic anywhere. Right now, however, the sight of her made his headache throb in protest. She tossed his helmet back at him as he turned to face her. Sluggish with fatigue, he barely caught it. "Your Titan was in there alright. Clever little shit, that one."

Jack straightened up, energized by a burst of delight.

"Really? Were you able to recover him?" She must have, from her smile. She nodded.

"Yup. AI data all intact. But a lot of his subroutines got scrambled. It's gonna be a real bitch to get the poor fella defragged." She shrugged. "Once we know he's stable and everything's A-O-Kay, we'll re-upload him into a new Datacore for ya." She tossed her hair, looking smug. "For now, he's quarantined on a safe drive." Jack nodded, torn between the joy of knowing that BT was alright, and the disappointment of not being able to see him right away. It must have shown on his face because the Mechanic's expressive face softened dramatically.

"Don't worry, Cooper," one of the other Technicians said reassuringly. "Miss Veauxver's going to take care of him and you'll be back in action in no-time." He gestured to the pink haired woman with a warm smile. "She's crazy, but she's the best."

"Hey!"

Jack chuckled, edging back out of the lab to let the good people do their work. Veauxver called after him as he left.

"Come back in three days, Coop! We'll have him by then no-problem!" Jack waved as he left, and made his tired way to the mess hall.

Once there, however, he found the smell of food was monumentally unappealing. His stomach rolled uncomfortably and he turned on his heel and left, without ever entering. He hobbled back to the barracks, deciding that his best option was sleep.

His bed was the same rigid, uninviting cot as anyone's, but it felt nearly divine as he sank into it gratefully, and he barely had time to roll and kick his boots off before sleep overcame him.

Jack slept off the rest of the day, and the one that followed, with only brief periods of wakefulness. Someone had left a pile of ration bars by his bed, alerting him that his cohorts had noticed his inactivity, but he couldn't be bothered to have more than a few bites before laying back down and returning to sleep. Awake, his head hurt, his skin crawled on his bones, and he missed BT. It wasn't worth getting up for.

"Hey. You dead?"

Jack peeled his eyes open, the feminine but somewhat nasally voice interrupting his latest departure from the land of the waking.

"'Cause…you look dead." She went on. It took Jack's eyes way too long to focus, but he thought he saw a big pink blur, and combined with the distinctive voice, he was certain it was probably the Head Mechanic. He'd forgotten her name. He rubbed his face, grimacing as a sore on his chin split, bleeding slightly, and sat up. "Jeezus," She commented, stepping back. "Cooper you really need to eat something, you look like a ghost." Her voice lacked her usual exuberance, concern sobering her. Jack shrugged, reaching over groggily to retrieve one of the rations at his bedside and ripped it open with quivering hands. He took a bite, and grimaced around it. With effort, he swallowed. Setting the rest aside, he retrieved the dwindling bottle of pills and swallowed three dry. At long last, he turned his bleary gaze properly on the mechanic. "We've got BT's AI all ready and are gonna install him in a modified Stalker frame so he can accompany you while they rebuild a proper chassis for him." She said at last. "If you wanna come see…" Jack brightened, sitting up a little straighter.

"Yeah…" He stood, kicking his boots back on. He realized he was still in his fatigues from Typhon. He paused. "I'll ahh…. Catch up," He said, chagrined. "Shower first."

"Oh thank god," She said, smiling crookedly. "You know where to find us."

Jack stood in the shower, scrubbing at his arms. He itched, and the skin on his arms was an angry red. He knew he should have at least changed. He had been utterly filthy, and sleeping for three days in war-grime had obviously not done him any favors. The feeling wasn't leaving him, and he scrubbed roughly until a few spots on his wrists bled. Realizing he'd overdone it he finally quit, but it was difficult. His bones felt swollen, and he felt like his skin could peel right off of them. He dressed, pulling his sleeves down over the red, angry skin, and headed to Engineering.

He was greeted by the same Mechanic, the woman pressing a piece of fruit into Jack's hands as he approached her. He glanced down, startled.

"Eat." She barked the order and he snorted out a soft laugh.

"Uh, thanks, uh….?" He never had heard her first name, and her last one was hard. He'd forgotten it.

"Mu."

Jack blinked, confused.

"Moo?"

"Mu. Short for Muniya, but if you call me that, I'll break your face. Now c'mere… and eat that, goddamnit!" Jack trailed after her, taking a bite of the fruit obediently. His stomach protested, but he continued anyway, aware he needed something in him. Across the room, a Stalker frame was laid out on a table, a myriad of lines and wires tethered to it. He rubbed one arm with the other, the sight making him shudder. He'd had too many unhappy run-ins with those things, very recently.

"In that?" He asked, uncertain. Mu turned, one eyebrow raised.

"Yea, I know they're kinda creepy but it'll be different with your Buddy in there. Trust me." Jack twitched. He didn't like people asking for his Trust anymore. In fact, first chance he got, he and BT were going to have a little talk. She reached behind the head, audibly flipping a switch. "I'm booting him up now. Keep in mind it may take him a moment to recognize you while all of his systems initialize fully."

The Stalker sat up with a rattle, and immediately bleated out something that went by too fast for Jack to follow.

"What?" He asked, and it turned and stared at him, optic bright.

"Jack Cooper. Language processors corrupted, reinstall required," BT said, slower.

"Ugh! What the hell?!" Mu cried, digging her fingers into her scalp in frustration. "I'm sorry Jack, it's going to be a while before we figure out what the problem is."

"What?" Jack blinked. Behind her, BT was repeating himself insistently. "But he just said his language processor was corrupted… do you mean you have to find out how it happened?" The mechanic blinked.

"What?" She glanced over at BT.

"Error:24566-1 Corruption of Language Processors. Reboot required. Error:24566-1"

"How…you can understand him?" She asked, stunned.

"What?" Jack frowned. "You heard him." He gestured helplessly towards BT, shooting the bot an apologetic face. Mu tilted her head curiously, staring in awe.

"It's binary. All I hear is noise, I can't decipher that."

A wave of dizziness struck Jack, and he swayed on his heels. He was stunned.

"Um." He rubbed his arms again, scratching at his wrists where they weren't covered by his sleeves. "He said 'Error two-four-five sixty six dash one. Corruption of Language Processors'." The woman was giving him a shifty look, but nodded, reaching over and gently switching BT back into stasis and helping to lay the frame back out on the table. He could feel the stares from the rest of the staff, but refused to turn and look.

"Okay. We can fix that." She tipped her chin towards one of the techs. "You heard him. Don't try to repair those drivers, just scrub them and install new ones." She turned her attention back on Jack, bright blue eyes sharp. "Try again tomorrow, and thanks for the help." Jack nodded, turning. "And Jack?" He paused, looking back. She nodded to his hands. "You're bleeding." Jack glanced down at his wrists, only now noticing that his cuffs were stained with dark blood. He swore under his breath and hurried out.

Walking back to the barracks, Jack thrice caught himself picking at his skin. He stopped, resolutely pushing up his sleeves to have a better look. Something wasn't right.

Deep welts, all of them oozing dark, thick blood, latticed across his wrists and hands. Jack frowned. Those hadn't been there an hour ago. Blisters were forming over his arms as well. He scowled, and pinched at a blister, only for it to break away from the back of his hand, peeling away a long strip of skin with it. Jack stared in speechless horror at the pink muscle and yellow tendons of his hand. The nausea he had been fighting took over, and he emptied his stomach over his own shoes. He staggered, his vision blurring as shock struck him, and he slipped in his own mess. He toppled, and the force of impact burst several more lesions on his arms, causing his shirt to spot with black spots. He stared at the blood blooming through the cotton in dismay, trembling against the waves of nausea and disorientation. He worried he would black out.

Slowly, carefully, he climbed to his feet, and began a staggering, lurching trek to Medical.

He almost made it. His wrists were gushing blood where his cuffs chaffed the suddenly frost-fragile skin, and he could see fresh blooms of blood coming out in clusters through the fabric over his thighs and shins. His vision was graying out at the edges, and something was running down his cheek. The horrifying thought crossed his mind that it might be an eye, and what inner strength he was holding onto to stay conscious finally failed him, Jack's psyche overcome with aversion to the mortifying events. He collapsed in the entryway to the medical bay, eliciting startled screams from a pair of nurses nearby, and with a certain sense of relief, slipped from consciousness.