BT[JT1] found himself spending more time in Engineering than not, over the next few weeks. He was alone without Jack, and had no proper body to serve in, and so he made himself useful where he could.

Mu let him largely design Jack's Simulacrum, citing that he knew Jack better than anyone else did. The notion saddened BT somewhat, the Titan acutely aware that he hardly knew Jack at all. This awareness made him care no less, however, and so he did the best he could, from what little he did know.

When he wasn't working with the Engineers, he often pondered that day in the hospital. More happened in those short minutes than BT could process all at once, and so he poured over the datalogs over and over again, desperate for some sort of understanding. He had long since turned in his report both on his breakthroughs in copying Jack's memories over to data, but also on what he had seen and experienced.

Mostly. There had been one very large detail he had deliberately omitted. Whatever had happened between Jack and he, in that moment outside reality, BT had no explanation for. During that time, his data recorder only showed inaction as his systems had rebooted after the shock of power they had suffered, and video/audio had only presented the same view of the ICU. There was no evidence at all that anything out of the ordinary had happened, except that BT remembered it, and the event had changed him.

He had concluded that whatever approached him in Jack's mind had not been Jack, but something far from him, older than either Pilot or Titan could comprehend, and far more powerful. It had reached out to BT with its power, and touched him. The transformation had been instant, though it took BT some time to realize it, and the metamorphosis hadn't yet completed.

Though it certainly made for good fiction, he knew that out-of-body experiences, alien power sources altering his processors, and Titans suddenly feeling, comprehensively, the full gamut of emotions, had no place in military reports. Pragmatism was in his core programming, but he still struggled to come to terms with what happened.

"BT?" BT looked up, alarmed. Mu was staring at him curiously, one eyebrow arched. He stared back, certain he had just missed something, and he couldn't figure out what. She smirked. "You've soldered your finger to the table," She pointed out. BT glanced down, horrified. "Distracted?" She asked, reaching over with a tool to help separate his hand from the bench. His hand free once more, BT bitterly filed way the rough edge he had created, chagrined.

"That would be highly abnormal." He stated in his best robot-voice. She wasn't convinced.

"Sounds familiar." She took the soldering iron out of his hands, setting it aside. "You've been pretty tight-lipped about what happened, but nobody else has," She went on. "I'm not going to presume what happened to you, but I know your base programming has changed – dramatically." BT felt his systems tach up, battle computer starting to spit out scenarios regarding his fate. "All for the better, I think," She added, flicking the armor on his shoulder with a clang. "You're the bridge between humanity and robotics that Jack will desperately be needing. Real soon." She nudged him again when he didn't look at her, and took the part she'd asked him to repair away. "Quit fiddling with that and come over here. It's time."

BT had to clamp down hard on the excited thrill that shook through him as he all-too-eagerly trotted after the little woman. On the same bench he himself had lain only a few weeks prior, Jack's new body now waited. BT had designed the Simulacrum to be as humanoid in shape as he could, hoping to spare Jack of some of the frightened, mistrustful looks he had been receiving in the Stalker frame. He knew, ultimately, that Jack would always be a frightening thing to his fellows now but he couldn't help but attempt to mitigate the damage, regardless. He had hoped to do more, but resources were scarce. For now, at least, they had to make-do.

"Here goes…" Mu muttered, carefully inserting the core into the new frame and flipping a few switches behind a panel in the chest. The frame tensed, power entering it, and the bio lights illuminated. Almost immediately, every light in the lab went black. Somewhere in the room, there was a sharp pop! as a circuit breaker blew. One of the techs let out a startled yelp. Mu threw the screwdriver she had opened the access panel with. "Damnit!" BT illuminated the floodlights mounted on his shoulder in silence, not remarkably surprised that they had toasted the circuit dumping all that power at once. "Marcus, go get that breaker reset," Mu ordered, huffing. "I'm sorry, BT. Looks like we have to go the long way." She marched up to a nearby locker and dragged out a huge, ancient, petroleum powered generator. It had a pull-start ignition and she was yanking on the cable ferociously, trying to get it to turn over. The generator, however, was clearly built for a larger person, and she couldn't get a full extension on the cord. BT padded up and relieved her, managing to crank it over in the first pull. She scowled at him in a good natured sort of way, mouthing a 'thanks' to him over the deafening roar of the old combustion engine. Around them, the lights came on, followed rapidly by a series of ventilation fans, working on overdrive to suck out the carbon monoxide the generator emitted. BT set up a routine scan to check the CO levels in the room every few minutes, and then helped her transfer over all the power lines connected to Jack's new body. After a few minutes of work, everything had been transferred to the generator, and Mu threw herself into a nearby chair, looking winded. BT hovered near the work table.

"You might as well get comfortable, Bud." Mu said. "This is going to take a while." She stood again, heaving a sigh, and looked over at BT, who had not moved a single gyro. She laughed a little to herself, and slid her newly vacated seat his way. "Have a seat, then." She said, more than aware that he wouldn't budge otherwise.

BT sat unmoving, and waited. The day transpired without him, and he became a part of the scenery. The crew finished their work and left. Someone shut off the lights as they went. The door was locked. BT remained by Jack's side, and found his processor tripping back over the same unresolved issues. He would never know whether the Ark had changed him intentionally, or by accident, but the gift had been a dubious one. He felt. Everything. He felt the ferocious protectiveness of Jack, which he'd known was there, fundamentally, but was finally experiencing first-hand. He felt anxiety at his friends' tentative grasp on life.

He felt guilt, like a landslide, nearly burying him. Inadvertent, and well-meaning though he had been, BT was starkly aware that he had lead Jack straight to a demise far more gruesome than anything BT thought possible. The uncertainty shook him to the core, and he felt his purpose compromised as he tumbled down the black hole of second-guessing his every decision.

Even now, he wondered: what if Jack would have rather died than be turned into a second-rate replica – because that's what the name Simulacrum meant, wasn't it, BT? – and BT had gone and made a life-altering decision for the man without his input. But what if he hadn't? Jack would have perished. Horribly, and painfully. Forever. BT thought – hoped- Jack would choose life.

What would Jack think of all this, anyway? Would he blame BT? Hold it against him? BT had one friend in this world, and he was finally capable of caring, deeply, the way he ought to, and there was a good chance that once Jack came to, it would all be gone.

BT shuddered, wrapping his arms around his chassis to hug himself, as he'd seen some humans do. It didn't help, and he felt pathetic for it. Uncertainty continued to plague him through the darkest hours of the night. What if he rendered himself unable to fight? A month ago, he had valued one life, and one life only: The Pilot, and that had been enough. He saw the world, now, through mortal eyes, and understood. They all mattered, and even the enemy fought for something they believed in; that to them, he was the bad guy. Everywhere he looked, he saw monsters where people had been. A sound alarmingly like a sob escaped his vocalizer. He was horrified at how ugly the world was, how ugly he was. It was all so confusing.

Beside where he sat at the console, there was a single beep. Pulled from his spiraling thoughts, BT straightened up and had a look, glad for the distraction. The uplink was complete. He ran one last diagnostic on Cooper's systems, just to be sure. Everything was in its place and assembly-line fresh. He kicked off the rumbling generator, triggered the initialization process, and stood back.

The Simulacrum shuddered, and slowly sat up, bio lights and optic illuminating slowly. The rectangular head canted down, as both hands raised up, turning over as it examined itself. It issued a horrified scream, and collapsed backwards, offline.

BT recoiled, stunned. Perhaps he should have expected that, considering what Jack's last memories might be. He pulled himself back together, and went back to the console. He was relieved to see everything was normal, aside from the unscheduled shut-down. Someone was in there. Someone was having a really rough day. BT pondered what he could do for Jack, staring down through the darkness at the figure on the table. He wondered how safe it was, but he had a plan. Moving swiftly to a nearby cabinet, he collected a patch cable, and returned with it to Jack's side. He removed an access panel, careful not to scratch or gouge the new metal, and inserted the cable into one of the number of ports available. It was a little tougher to remove the same panel on himself, but he managed, eventually getting his end of the cable connected as well. He steeled himself, and reinitialized the boot sequence.

"Cooper…" Jack could hear BT's voice, but looking around, all he saw was white. It hurt his eyes, and he clamped them shut.

"BT?" The words croaked out of his dry throat. "Where are you?" His head swam. It was hard to focus on anything. Jack was barely able to string together the words to call out.

"I am here. Do not be afraid."

"Afraid?"

"A lot has happened, Jack."

"Typhon?" He paused. "Are we dead?"

"Nearly. But no. Sort of." BT's voice had grown closer, and there was a hand on his shoulder. Jack turned to look. BT was blurred, as if two images were overlaid one upon the other. He was both his old self as Jack remembered….but also a Stalker. Jack recoiled. "New chassis," BT explained, and the Stalker-BT solidified. "I assure you, I am the same old Titan you remember." Jack was suspicious, but compelled to believe him.

"What's going on…?" He looked all around but saw nothing. "Where are we?"

"What do you remember, after returning to Harmony?" BT asked, not answering him directly.

"Veauxver had just finished installing you into a new chassis…Oh." He had forgotten. "And then…" he jolted, looking up at BT in alarm as the memories came flooding back. "BT…what happened to me?"

"You…are not the only one with a new chassis, Jack." BT said slowly. Jack frowned, confused.

"What?"

"Your body was contaminated with the Ark's energy… It destroyed you. We were, however, able to preserve you – your memories." Jack was speechless, stunned. "You and I…have much more in common now," BT finished. Jack staggered back, trying to take in the Titan's words. His mind spun wildly, and he struggled to remain calm. A memory flashed through him: A feeling of wrongness, looking down and seeing strange, mechanical hands where he had expected to see flesh… He shuddered, and BT gripped his shoulders with both hands. The touch helped ground him.

"So…where are we?" He asked tentatively. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Inside your processor, I suppose," BT said. "You suffered a crash on initialization – I believe the shock may have been too much, so I hardlined myself to you prior to rebooting your systems so that I might-"

"Break it to me gently." Jack finished for him.

"Indeed." BT grew silent for a long pause, turning away slightly with his head hung. "I am sorry, if these solutions are unsatisfactory for you. A number of decisions were made in short order, with insufficient data." He paused, shuffling with anxiety. "I could not stand to lose you."

"You… you did this?" Jack asked, awestruck. He was certainly not angry, if BT had just saved his life again.

"Essentially. The Militia lacks the equipment in their medical facilities to facilitate this kind of data transfer on its own. Jointly, with the systems already in place, we were able to preserve you." His optic flickered. "Congratulations, you are the first successful Simulacrum the Militia has produced."

Jack let out a bemused little snort.

"Thanks, I think."

BT released his grip on Jack's shoulders, stepping back.

"I'm going to complete your initial bootup now," he said gently. "I've warned you as best I can, but this still may be a bit of a shock…"

Jack nodded.

"I'm ready."

Jack sat up, the world around him coming into astoundingly sharp focus, all at once. He cringed, trying to clamp his eyes shut, but he had no eyelids, let alone eyes…or anything else. BT had been right. It was a terrible shock, staring down at the joints of metal hands, and the rigging showing through the plating protecting his knees. He was not ready.

"Oh god…" His voice, at least, was his own, albeit somewhat metallic. He would learn later that BT had taken extra care to make sure the tone was modulated as close to the original as possible.

"Easy, Jack." BT's voice rumbled by his side, calm and reassuring. "Take your time, we are in no hurry." Jack shuddered, his new metal body rattling.

"This is…" His mind cartwheeled as too much information came barreling in too quickly. He did not see or hear as he once had. Everything was accentuated into sharp relief. He trembled, overwhelmed. "Really…f-f-f-f-ffreaky." His voice glitched slightly, causing him to stutter. He drew up rigidly, alarmed.

"An emotional tic. You'll be alright. Find something to focus on." BT's voice was soft, and he reached out and grasped one of Jack's new hands in his own, and gently tapped on the plating at the back of it. The rhythmic tap tap tap resonated through Jack, sending steady signals, and his gaze fixed on the subtle movement of BT's fingertip. The hysteria faded into background noise. Jack pulled his hand away slowly, and carefully turned to look at the other bot.

"How…" He paused, the sound filled with static. He thought about clearing his throat, and when he tried again, his voice was clear. "How did you know that would help?"

"You're not the only one the Ark changed." BT said, and his tone was somber. Jack tilted his head, searching the other for any sign of what he meant.

"Oh! Well I'll be dipped!" Jack turned, alarmed, as Mu Veauxver interrupted them as she arrived for the morning shift. "You're up early!" Her smile turned crooked. "All thanks to BT, yanno. He saved you."

"So I've been told," Jack responded.

[JT1]Chapter 3