Save for the sound of rotors chopping through the air, the Sangvis Ferri helicopter was completely silent. There was no postoperative conversation, no friendly banter between squad mates; it was as silent as a funeral. Only a few Sangvis Ferri dolls were lucky enough to be allowed to escape with Scarecrow, standing like statues while they awaited their next deployment. Even Scarecrow herself was quiet, no doubt processing information while the automated systems of the helicopter performed the navigation process. Despite being surrounded by other dolls, Kar98k and MP40 truly felt alone amongst the crowd. The two of them found a dark corner to huddle together in, prepared for the possibility of their saviors turning into captors.

Looking over at Scarecrow, Kar98k couldn't help but notice that she had also sustained an injury. Synthetic blood had stained her black clothing, the open wound haphazardly covered with emergency bandages. Of course, even in an injured state the Ringleader was then enough of a challenge for her to face if push came to shove, and she had more important things to worry about at the moment. "Your wound," Kar98k finally broke the silence, "what happened."

Scarecrow didn't even open her eyes. "I let the half-doll get close so I could finish her."

"I could ask our technician to help you with that." Kar98k offered. "It's the least I can offer."

Scarecrow finally opened her eyes. "I would decline," she answered, "but the information I have seen about him has me curious."

Kar98k raised an eyebrow. "You have a way with words that inspires little hospitality in me."

"I would simply like to ask him a few questions." Scarecrow insisted.

"That's not part of the offer." Kar98k stood firm.

Scarecrow shrugged. "Then perhaps you'd like to walk home?"

Kar98k sighed, she would most certainly not like to walk home. "I'd just like to take care of our own before you start poking around our base."

There was a pause. "I understand," Scarecrow made her promise, "I will be patient."

Kar98k returned to her seat on the floor with MP40. "Do you really trust her?" The Captain asked.

She stared at Scarecrow for a moment before giving an answer. "I don't think that she is our enemy right now."

MP40 shook her head. "You didn't answer my question."

Truthfully, she wasn't sure who to trust anymore. In the end, the only ones to have dedicated themselves entirely to help her was Scarecrow. Kar98k didn't want to admit it, but she trusted Sangvis Ferri leagues more than she trusted her own team. Facing this realization, she stayed silent the rest of the helicopter ride home, unable to look MP40's way.

P38, usually spending her time overseeing minor base security details and communications, was incredibly surprised to receive a landing request from an unidentified aircraft. The information it was pinging her computers labeled it as a military transport helicopter, specifically designed for carrying infantry. Referencing its identification numbers, the helicopter was in service with Sangvis Ferri for transport and training services before the Butterfly Incident and the company went rogue. P38 scratched her head as she tried to figure out why it would be asking for permission to land. Deciding to reach the bottom of this, she hailed the helicopter for answers. "Attention unidentified aircraft," she practiced this speech for some time so she would get her performance correct, "you are entering private airspace. Please identify yourself or correct your course."

There was a pause before the Commandant's voice echoed from the radio. "P38, we got a ride home. Tell the sisters to prepare a welcome party in the courtyard where we will be landing."

She saluted despite the lack of visual communication. "Right away, Commandant." She killed the transmission and opened up the on base intercom. "MG42 and MG34, please arm up and prepare for a welcome party for our new friends in the courtyard."

She repeated her page before she grabbed her own pistol side arm to join them in the courtyard. Typically, whenever the Commandant returned from a mission she liked to report to the command center to oversee the data gathered there from the mission to accumulate her report. This time, however, P38 wanted to see what new friends the Commandant brought home. She was unsure if it was hostages or civilians, but whatever it was no doubt required her immediate attention. Racing through the hallways, she bumped into Fredrick on his way back from one of the vending machines. "What's the rush, Pop Star?" He asked, Pop Star being his name for her, referring to her civilian life as an idol singer.

"Commandant is on her way back with a Sangvis Ferri helicopter," she explained, "she said she brought friends."

Fredrick smiled as he opened the bag of processed food. "Well that's nice," he crunched on the cheesy nightmare for human health, "you girls grow up so fast."

He idly returned to his maintenance bay, no doubt preparing for the inevitable injuries. P38 broke into a brisk pace as she left the building, pushing through the double doors into the courtyard in time to see the sisters setting up on opposite ends of the courtyard. They intended to establish a crossfire of machine bullets, prepared for whatever came out of the helicopter. From the looks of it, the two of them had already been set up at the open air firing range to eat dinner and shoot long range targets. The helicopter began its approach, its rotors kicking up dust and sand, forcing P38 to cover her eyes to protect them from micro damage. Dropping its landing gear, the helicopter touched down in the center of the courtyard, its side doors closed for its descent.

Once the side doors were open, the first to hop out was the Commandant. Boots touching ground, she turned around to help the Captain down, who was having trouble moving from her injuries. They interlocked arms, using each other to stand up. The Commandant herself was sporting a nasty bit of dried synthetic blood on the side of her face, no doubt sporting a nasty cut from some fight. P38 expected one of the others from their echelon to emerge next, not a Sangvis Ferri Ringleader. Scarecrow hopped down, wincing with pain and clutching her side as she landed. P38 was absolutely speechless to see her unrestrained and in the Commandant's company. The three of the hobbled over to P38 as the helicopter rotors died, nobody else leaving the craft. "P38, I'd like you to have the sisters pack up and escort these two to the maintenance bay for repairs."

P38 saluted and motioned for the MG girls to head over. Begrudgingly, the two lowered their weapons and went mobile, switching from belt fed boxes to smaller and more portable magazines. They kept their eyes trained on Scarecrow the entire time, ready to fight back just in case. "Where's the rest of the echelon?" P38 asked as the sisters went to help MP40 to the maintenance bay.

The Commandant sighed. "That's what we're going to go and find out."

The two of them walked in silence to the command center, the Commandant's boots clicking against the floors as she walked with determination. During an operation, satellite data provided information for base bound human commanders to monitor the situation and provide proper communication and leadership to their doll soldiers. This information primarily included topographical maps, another real time and predictive, as well as information on the deployed dolls operational status. While a doll could be tracked within the projected operation range, the wider the received area the more difficult it would be to receive data. The satellites were only designed to monitor within a small designated location, so if a doll were to leave that area they were essentially lost. P38 surmised that the Commandant wished to use this date to determine if the echelon was still where she left them.

Entering the command center, the Commandant bounded over to the command console and began pulling up all current data for their most recent operation. She began with their operational status, looking for all signs of damage to their echelon. The data was a jumbled mess, resulting in only basic alerts being received. As of current, the only member of the echelon that wasn't listed as severely damaged was the Commandant herself. G43 was labeled as an unrecoverable loss, while StG44 and FG42 were recorded as severely damaged and outside of operational range.

The Commandant stared at the screen in front of her for a moment, processing what she was staring at for too long. After a few moments, P38 began to worry. "Commandant-" she reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder.

The Commandant swore, pounding a fist into the console keyboard. She turned away from the now broken computer and stormed out of the command center, her breathing erratic as she tried to control her emotions. P38 simply stood in place, dumbfounded at what had just transpired.

Kar98k's office door closed shut behind her, leaving her alone at last. Standing in the middle of her office, she felt her core temperature rising to dangerous levels as she processed everything. Not only had the dolls she left behind been defeated in a glorious last stand against a relentless enemy, but they were captured. While the legitimacy of anything that the system told her was no doubt questionable at best, something deep within her told that they were in danger. Part of her, perhaps the growing human psyche within her, made her ignore the cold hard facts that a doll would accept. She could help but imagine how scared they must feel, alone while their comrades sit safe at home. If this was how humans felt then Kar98k wanted to rip these feelings out of her own head.

Looking around her office for comfort, she saw FG42's cat lazily sleeping by her open window. The pretty heather plant that she had been caring for, as well as the bird nest that called the plant home, was shattered on the floor below the window sill. The white cat itself sat fat and happy in the sun, a bit of red on its killer jowls. At that moment, Kar98k snapped; she grabbed the chair that sat by her desk for visitors to use and flung it into her mirror. Shards of broken reflective glass littered her floor as she swept her arms across her desk to fling everything off of it. She delivered a swift to the hard wood desk itself, but found it was built a little too sturdy. She felt a shooting pain in her foot as she no doubt damaged her toes, but she didn't care. Turning her attention to a bookcase she kept, she grabbed it and brought it down, scattering her collection all across the glass ridden floor.

Kar98k limped into her private bathroom, looking at her face in the mirror. The dried streak of her own synthetic blood looked so real to her, she was most convinced that it was real human blood. Poking the origin of the wound, she found that it even had coagulants that allowed it to seal and close. The more she looked at her injury, her blood, and herself, Kar98k felt more and more human. So much heartache and drama had occurred for her and her Brigade thus far entirely because she was too human. She began to look at her face with disgust, horrified at her many human features. She ran the water in the sink, hoping to wash off the blood and see herself again. Instead of washing off, the blood seemed to smear all over her face. Grabbing a towel, she tried to wipe it off but found it only stained her towels and refused to dry back up.

Infuriated, she stripped down and laid in her bathtub, letting the shower head above her run and rinse her off. Kar98k laid like this for a long time, losing track of time as she hoped to wash away her humanity. Someone knocked on the door to her office, but she ignored them in the hopes that they'd go away. They did not, and instead an override for her door lock was keyed in and the doors slid open reluctantly. "Commander, we need to-" Fredrick began to yell, but changed his mind when he saw the state of her office, "what the fuck?"

He immediately raced over to the bathroom to investigate the running water, finding her naked and listless. She stared off in the distance at nothing in particular, refusing to acknowledge his presence. "Jesus Christ." He whispered under his breath, approaching her carefully in case she snapped again.

"There's just so much blood." Kar98k muttered.

Fredrick sighed as he approached her. He turned off the shower, ending the flow of water that pelted her face. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, clearly trying to figure out what to say. "I understand you're going through a lot right now," he pleaded with her, "but the rest of the girls need you more than ever right now."

"This is all because of me." She remained motionless in the bathtub, her wet body feeling a chill now that the flow of warm water had ceased.

"Don't beat yourself up," he contested, "you're a victim in this too."

She turned her head to face him. "The blood is on my hands."

"Unless you were the one that pulled the trigger, it is not." Fredrick held out a hand to pull her out of the tub. "Come on, these girls need someone strong like you to make sure they'll be okay."

"Why should I lie to them?"

Fredrick sighed, keeping his hand out. "You and I both know that you're better than this," he reached out to grab her hand and pull her up, "let's get you out of that tub and into-"

Kar98k pulled her hand closer, turning away from him. "All of this is because of me." She repeated herself.

"You're starting to sound like a broken record," Fredrick raised his voice, "who are you trying to convince here?"

All she wanted was for him to go away, to let her wallow in her own self pity. She'd failed her team a long time again, blindly leading them along to destruction. She'd hidden things from them for their own safety, things that could have prevented them from falling victim to a hidden enemy. If she had taken a more proactive approach to fighting the puppet masters that pulled her strings, then maybe they could have stopped this long ago. It was even in the realm of possibility they could have prevented a lot of deaths. How many human commanders were killed because of this White Faction, how many were manipulated by the Paradeus cult? Could a spotlight have prevented their deaths? How much blood was she bathing now? Kar98k closed her eyes and dug her fingers into her hair, moaning as she mentally blamed herself. The moan of self pity inevitably turned into a yell as she shook her head.

Fredrick grabbed her arms and tried to get her to stop, grunting as she tried to break his grasp. His grip was surprisingly strong, but she didn't put much effort into her struggle as well. Despite her best effort, he grabbed her upper arms and forced her to her feet and tried to pull her out of the bathtub. With the water all over the place, they both ended up on the floor. Fredrick was the first to get back up, pulling Kar98k once again to her feet despite her feigned protests. "You're acting like a fucking child right now," his tone was dripping with that of a disappointed father, "is this the same doll that broke her fucking leg making sure one of her own wasn't left behind?"

She wanted to argue with him, to disagree with him, but he made a point. Even now she could remember fighting to keep moving, even as she felt her leg shredding itself with every step. Still, she could still remember watching the rooftop fading into the distance, leaving two of her own behind as she selfishly made her escape. "I'm the doll that abandoned half her team to save her own life." She muttered.

He pushed her against the wall, where she stopped her flailing. "If you stayed and got yourself captured where the fuck would we be now?" He was yelling at her now, noticeably without rage however. "I can restore these girls from a backup and build them new bodies, but without you this whole thing falls apart! Best I could tell, they made their choice, while you made the right decision!"

Kar98k fell silent, contemplating her own thoughts again. If it was the right choice, then why didn't it feel that way? Was she supposed to feel empty knowing she left them behind, was this another trick to weaken her resolve? She'd give anything to have them back and safe with her, but she knew she was also the only one that could lead a proper rescue operation to save them. Perhaps Fredrick was right, perhaps she needed to rally the other girls. In that moment she realized just how foolish she was being, pouting over a situation she had every tool to solve it. Her emotions turned into a flurry of feeling, a mix of anger, sadness, and happiness. This culminated in tears as she sobbed, yet she wasn't sure for what reason. Still, Fredrick loosened his grip on her and comforted her, happy she was finally feeling something.

While holding her in an embrace, he made a point to try and grab her coat off the floor. He kicked it up with his foot, catching it so he could drape it over her shoulders. As she felt the warmth of her coat envelope her, Kar98k couldn't help but take in the whole situation and giggled to herself. A single thought came to her mind as she separated herself from him. "FG42 called you my 'work husband' a few days ago." She said, stifling her laughter.

Fredrick rolled his eyes as he buttoned her coat up. "Someone needs to take care of you."

He pulled Kar98k back into her office, carefully leading her around the mess she made to the entrance to her private bedroom on the opposite side of her office. Sitting her down on the bed, Fredrick took a deep breath and stepped away. "Get some sleep, and get your head together," he spoke slowly, "I'll be back in a few hours to check up on you."

Kar98k, sitting on her bed, tucked her knees up to her chest and stared at her bedroom. A simple "Thank you" was all she could muster. She wanted to go on and on about how much she appreciated the work he'd done for them, but something told her that he knew.

"I'm just doing my job." He turned to leave. On his way out, he noticed her rifle leaning by the doorway, untouched by her tirade from earlier. He thought for a moment, and picked up the weapon. Pulling the bolt back, he turned it far enough he could remove it. Stuffing the bolt in his back pocket, he figured he'd give it back to Kar98k depending on how she was feeling later. Until then, he felt more comfortable leaving her without a readied rifle.

Entering the maintenance bay, Fredrick was glad to see everyone still alive. The two sisters had their machine guns set up and readied on Scarecrow, while MP40 sat on one of the handful of repair benches, or operating tables as he liked to refer to them. He clapped his hands as hard and loud as he could, getting everyone's eyes and attention on himself. He cleared his throat, taking a moment to plan his next words carefully. "The Commander is occupied," he began, "she's dealing with some blowout from the end of the last operation and will be busy for a while. With the Captain indisposed, and Pop Star about as useful as box of rocks when it comes to actual leading you girls-"

"P38 does a great job!" MG34 tried to defend the idol doll.

"Yeah!" MG42 added on. "She's super talented!"

"She also lets you two raid the pantry whenever you like, leaving me stuck paying for my meals in town." Fredrick watched as the two sisters looked dejected. "I'll be keeping an eye on you girls until the Commander can get back to duty."

"Is this allowed?" MG34 asked. "You're just the chief engineer."

"It's basic doll programming," Fredrick explained, "it's why I have all of the override codes the Commander and Captain do. In the event of an emergency, the humans have direct command protocols to maintain order."

"He's correct," MP40 explained, "and if the Commandant is alright with it then so am I."

"Good," Fredrick began to explain the plans for the next few hours by pointing to the sisters, "you two can go out to that helicopter and keep an eye on it. If anything on it so much as moves without approval I want you to pump it so full of lead that Sangvis Ferri will have to use it as a pencil instead." He looked to the captain next. "I'm sorry, but I have to get Scarecrow the fuck out of here and soon. I'll work on her repairs and send her back home."

MP40 nodded in understanding. "Of course, I can wait for the time being, I need some sleep anyway."

Scarecrow gave an amused huff. "Leaving me alone with the human?"

"Sangvis Ferri built the dolls and automated forces I worked on in the army," Fredrick crossed his arms, "I probably know my way around you better than you do."

Scarecrow raised an eyebrow in interest. "I'm looking forward to your repairs then." Her tone made it sound dirty, like he was cheating on a spouse.

"Just shut the hell up, put on the paper gown, and get on the table."

Scarecrow looked at the Griffin dolls as they left. "This isn't normal, is it?" She asked, in an almost pleading manner.

"Doctor and patient confidentiality is my motto." Fredrick locked the maintenance bay doors so no one could interrupt. "Just relax, I won't break anything."

Scarecrow took off her face mask and sighed. "Why is it that every time I'm with Griffin, they force me to take off my clothes?"

Fredrick turned around to give her privacy as she unbuttoned her shirt. "Most civilian model dolls love to play dress up," he explained, "helps with the uncanny valley. Military grade dolls like yourself prefer uniforms for obvious reasons."

"And what about you?" Scarecrow asked, taking her time with her clothes. "Why do you make your so-called patients do this?"

"Professional standard," Fredrick shrugged, "dolls appreciate when you treat them like they're human and not a machine. Having been in the military, I know what it's like to be treated like a disposable robot."

"Do you not develop an attachment to the dolls you work on?"

"Do you make a habit of interrogating everyone you meet?" Fredrick crossed his arms, tempted to turn and show her how frustrated he was at her question.

Scarecrow merely chuckled to herself. "I'll take that as a yes."

Fredrick huffed, spinning around to face the Ringleader despite her being down to her frilly underwear. "These girls are like a family to me," he pointed a finger at her, trying to not angrily poke her chest to emphasize his point, "and you most certainly are not. The Commander trusts you enough to bring you here, and I trust her with my life. I'll tolerate you and your bullshit, but don't push me or you'll be explaining to your friends why your head is screwed into your ass."

The smug grin on Scarecrow's face practically reached from ear to ear. "Thank you for enlightening me, human."

Fredrick huffed and turned back around to let her finish getting ready. At this rate, it was looking to be a very long night.