There was something buried deep within Scarecrow's programming that enjoyed having a human working on her repairs. It filled her with a warm feeling of comfort and safety that she seldom felt from the metaphorically cold and literally mechanical hands of Sangvis Ferri. It was perhaps some deep ingrained line of code in her neural cloud meant to make her like humans, a hidden shackle to keep her leashed and under their control. While tempted to find and delete that particular piece of code, moments of genuine bliss like this were rare, and she wished to savor it a little longer. The human himself, while initially distant due to their mistrust, was still respectful of her boundaries. He didn't ogle her body, choosing instead to focus his attention on fixing her stab wound. He was careful not to do anymore damage, even going out of his way to avoid ripping off her synthetic flesh. Despite his caring nature, he showed a level of skill that Scarecrow seldom saw in humans as well. She was even tempted to slap a collar on him and take him back with her so he may provide his skills whenever she wished.

Apparently, Scarecrow's stab wound had punctured her artificial stomach, so the human needed to perform some repairs due to a lack of replacement parts. Laying on the repair bench, she watched as he took the broken parts and tried to use his limited supplies to make something new. Looking all around the maintenance bay, she saw evidence of all sorts of small projects and experiments meant to allow him to make whatever repairs he needed with as few parts as possible. If Scarecrow didn't know any better, she'd have believed she was in the laboratory of a mad scientist. However, there was a certain ingenuity to the designs he had laying around, a new way of looking at different things. Had he owned his own business working on dolls, he'd be able to turn a massive profit without sacrificing much quality.

In spite of all of this, Scarecrow couldn't help but notice that the human was distracted. Every once in a while, he'd look up towards the doors or stop and look around the bay like he was being watched. Something was on his mind, and it wasn't her. After the fifth or so time, Scarecrow couldn't help but ask "What seems to be the issue?"

"No problems." He lied, continuing with his work with his back to her.

She stared daggers into his back. "You're on edge, human," she kept her voice calm to unsettle him, "that's quite unlike you."

He turned to face her. "And what do you know about me then?"

"Whatever is in your file." Scarecrow took a moment to pull up the relevant information she had gathered. "It says here you're married?"

The human's face drooped, then turned to frustration bordering on anger. "Where did you find that?"

Scarecrow lifted an eyebrow. She would have sat up, but she still had an open torso. "Was the information I stole from the enemy not your official Griffin file?" She asked, curiosity oozing from her tone of voice.

"Send it to my tablet." The human said as grabbed his touch screen device he used to do any work that didn't involve a wrench or a welding torch. Scarecrow happily obliged, curious to see what the human had to say about his own notes and files being used against him. As he read through, however, it was soon revealed that much of the information was not actually his work. Worse still, what file info was his had been heavily modified to fit a different agenda. "You said you got this from those White Faction freaks?"

"I believe they refer to themselves as Paradeus." She corrected him.

"I don't care if they call themselves the Twelve Apostles and wear sandals in the desert," he said, "they used my notes to manipulate and control my girls into doing what they want." He scrolled through to a particular page. "Right here it talks about FG42 being headstrong and stubborn, while StG44 will hold a bad position so long as she has company; we were played like a goddamn fiddle!"

Scarecrow's interest has now peaked. "So you do know about their observations of you."

The human sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I've had to completely overhaul Kar's neural cloud to remove the sort of sleeper codes they installed to control her."

At this moment, Scarecrow felt her own neural cloud leap for joy at the data she was being fed. "I'm surprised you've been able to figure out so much about them without being detected."

The human pulled up a newspaper article on his tablet and showed it to Scarecrow. "This man showed up here for a small party we had as a guest that Smiles brought along. He was using his outside systems and computers to perform research that we couldn't do here. Later that night he went missing, with a massive amount of illegal content stored on his computers, forcing them to be confiscated. Not a single police officer stepped foot on this base, and I didn't even know about it until I went to a cafe in town for lunch."

Scarecrow was amazed at how deep the poison ran in the Griffin's veins. "What is protecting you?" She asked.

"The fact I can hold a wrench if I had to guess." The human took a deep breath.

"What is protecting the others?" The human stopped to think over her words, seriously considering what she was suggesting. Scarecrow found it interesting how much the human really cared for the Griffin dolls. If she had to guess, that would explain why he was put here in the first place. Putting a figure that cared for these dolls like his children would really help cultivate whatever humanity that they hoped to foster in the Doll Commander, making him more valuable than a wrench jockey. "The way I see it," she told him, "you're the only one that isn't expendable."

The human's expression dropped as he stood up and walked over to a paging console by the door to the maintenance bay. If Scarecrow had to guess, he was attempting to get in touch with whichever doll 'Smiles' was. He waited for a while, attempted a second call, then gave an exasperated sigh before placing another call. "Hey Pop Star, do you mind checking something on the command computers for me."

"Of course Fredrick," chimed the sing-song voice of the P38 doll, "what do you need me to do for you?"

"Can you get a hold of Smiles for me?" He asked, trying to keep his voice down like he was hiding his call from Scarecrow.

"MP41?" P38 responded. Scarecrow remembered the MP41 doll, with her plethora of information and data. That little doll had nearly as much skill as she had, it was almost commendable. "I haven't seen her around the past couple days."

"Yeah, she's using her vacation time to run a project for me," he explained, "and last time we talked she said she pulled up something juicy."

"Well I'll page her then." There was a pause in the call as P38 put the human on hold to call MP41. After a few minutes P38 picked back up again. "That's weird, she usually doesn't ignore calls like this; I'm going to ping her on the status computers real quick."

The human ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I'll have to track her down, won't I?"

"Well, her last signal check was in her room last night," P38 explained, "but I'm not picking up anything recent."

"Is the signal busted?" He asked, wondering if he had to fix a communication system or a transmitter.

There was a pause. "It's just sending back no data."

The human stopped for a moment to think about what that meant. Panicked, he reached the same conclusion Scarecrow did. "Meet me at her room as soon as you can. I'm going to wrap things up here and go there right away." He hung up before he could get a response. The human turned to face her, clearly concerned for his doll's safety. "I'm going to sew you back up, then you're going to get your clothes back on and help me."

Scarecrow gave a sly smile. "How far has Griffin fallen to call upon the humble Sangvis Ferri for aid?"

The human pulled upon one of his tool drawers and produced a side arm. It was an older model of a Sangvis Ferri make, produced during the Third World War. It was a predecessor to the current energy pistols that the Ringleader Hunter chose to wield akimbo; featuring a slow rate of fire to offset the mediocre heatsink. It wasn't the preferred weapon for prolonged engagements, but was perfect for police action and minimal enemy contact. "Don't make me regret this." He said as checked the battery's charge.

Normally, around this time of night, Fredrick was getting ready to close down the maintenance bay and file his necessary paperwork and reports for the day. Usually this required an inventory of anything he might have used that day, as well as anything the girls might have differentially procured without his permission. This was also when he would write out his assessments of the girl's neural clouds, making a point to address any abnormalities and try to brainstorm solutions. Once he was finished with his work, he would lock up the maintenance bay and head to his on base dorm to enjoy the rest of his night with a beer and crappy old television programming. If he was lucky, one of the girls wouldn't disturb him for whatever minor paper cuts or belly ache and he would fall asleep before finishing his first drink.

Tonight, he was marching down the dormitory hallway with a fully charged plasma pistol and Sangvis Ferri military grade tactical doll. It was not a circumstance he was happy to be in, especially considering the incidents leading up to this moment. A doll who has happily murdered civilians without hesitation should not be the most trustworthy and reliable doll in the building, but Fredrick just didn't have much choice. In the end, Scarecrow had both willingly, and unwillingly, helped him and Kar98k learn more about the people controlling them than anyone else had. While he still didn't like having the murderer hanging around, he had to give her a certain degree of trust he wouldn't afford to anyone else.

P38 was waiting outside MP41's personal dorm, humming a song to herself as she waited for Fredrick. She instinctively reached for her own pistol the second she saw Scarecrow, still nervous around the doll. Of course, Fredrick knew that if Scarecrow wanted her dead, their differences in reaction times wouldn't even give P38 an opportunity to defend herself. Ignoring their tension, he cut to the chase. "Is she in her room or not?" He asked.

P38 nervously eyed Scarecrow before speaking. "MP41 has her door locked, and isn't answering when I knock."

Fredrick sighed. He knocked on the door, calling out to the doll. "Hey Smiles, are you good in there?" There was an uncomfortably long silence. "We got a special gift for you, straight from Sangvis Ferri." The only noise that followed was Scarecrow clearing her throat. "MP41, respond or I'm coming in."

Scarecrow spoke up. "The door lock requires a direct connection, or I would open it for you."

"I have my own codes, thank you." He responded, not happy that the SF doll defaulted to trying to hack their equipment. Entering his overrides, he was met with denied access. "The system isn't recognizing my override." He surmised.

"Maybe we should get the Commander." P38 suggested.

Fredrick held up a hand to stop her from leaving. He had no desire to disturb her with this, at least until he was sure Kar98k was in a much more stable mental state. She needed rest, not more drama. "It's fine, I have her codes."

"Oh you do?" Scarecrow asked. He was sure that under that mask she had a massive grin on her face.

"It's a trust thing," Fredrick responded, full of venom, "not that you would know anything about that."

The door accepted the Commander's overrides, slowly opening to reveal its contents. MP41 typically treated her door more like a photography dark room, where she processed photos and collected her data she gathered on the other doll. Decorating her walls were photos and images of almost everyone in the Brigade, some of them caught in some various acts that they'd rather not be caught in. One particular section of the wall was decorated with newspaper articles and photos she didn't take. This particular section had been recently violated, covered in black ink and ripped to shreds. The most notable addition to that section of wall came from MP41 herself. Synthetic blood was used to spell out a message directly to the Commander, asking her to "Come home Kar98k." Slumped against the wall below it was MP41's small body.

MP41 had no doubt been asleep when she was attacked, still dressed in the zombie movie themed pajamas she wore to bed. Her clothes were now stained with red from the numerous stab wounds, as were the sheets on her bed on the other side of her room. There was no sign of a struggle, the little doll having been caught completely off guard. P38 covered her mouth with her hands as she stifled a scream at the sight, unprepared to see one of their own murdered within their own home. Even Scarecrow seemed taken aback by the scene, not expecting to see such a sight in the Griffin base. Fredrick walked over to MP41 to check her core for any signs of retrieval. If she was able to black box herself, he'd have to get her into a new body as soon as he could. Of course, he was giving her a lot of credit to still be alive.

"P38," Fredrick's tone was solemn as he spoke, "I need you to put us on a hard lockdown so we can find out who did this."

"They might have already escaped, you know." Scarecrow suggested.

"Who might have escaped?" The new voice came from the cook, Addy, as she stood in the doorway. She was looking around with an odd look of fascination at the scene.

"This is none of your concern, bakery girl." Fredrick moved to get her to leave.

"I work here too," her words hit him like a wall, stopping his advance on her, "I have just as much of a right to see what's happening as you do."

"I have this under control." He reached for his sidearm.

"Why so hostile, I am also human," she said, her voice deceptively innocent, "perhaps even more so than you."

"Signal barrage!" Scarecrow shouted, doubling over as her neural cloud was bombed electronically. P38 simply fell to the ground, her eyes rolled back as her entire system crashed from the attack.

Addy continued to walk into the room, moving like a predator stalking its prey. Fredrick found himself alone with her, with nothing but a pistol to defend himself. She couldn't be human, not with that kind of electronic warfare get up; she had to be one of the Nytos. Knowing what little he did know about fighting them, he understood that he didn't stand a fat chance in hell alone with her. The smug look on her face displayed her confidence, her eyes locked on to him with laser precision. "Does the Kommandantin know what's going on here?" The innocence in her voice betrayed her murderous intent.

All Fredrick could do was level his pistol at her, hoping he could get a shot off before she moved to action. "She knows enough, bitch."

"For all she knows, Scarecrow killed everyone here." Fredrick realized that he had just created a solution for Addy, handing her the perfect opportunity to dispose of numerous issues with their plans. While the murder of MP41 was clearly set up to lure in Kar98k, they caught a more annoying pest in their snare trap.

Scarecrow, still struggling to control herself under the constant electronic signal barrage, dove towards Addy. The Nyto cook moved with speed and grace that Fredrick would find impossible, avoiding Scarecrow to get a better position. With her speed, she was able to move behind Fredrick and lock her arms around his neck in a sleeper hold. Addy intended to take him alive, and wanted him disabled for capture. Unfortunately for her, he still had some fight left in him. He reached back and tried to grab at her head, punching and flailing to try and get her to loosen her grip enough for him to throw her off. He grabbed a handful of her hair, as well as a headband she liked to wear while on the job, and pulled as hard as he could. The headband, and a handful of her hair, was now freed from her head. Fredrick through the fistful of hair and the headband, going for another pull.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, as the headband landed on the ground at Scarecrow's feet, Addy released Fredrick from her grasp and dove for the headband. Unfortunately for her, it found itself crushed beneath the foot of the Sangvis Ferri doll, who now stood with confidence. "So that's your secret," Scarecrow muttered, "a miniature version of the pylons that Juliet used to hide from me."

Addy, having lost her personal defense from electronic warfare, cowered away from Scarecrow. Her mind was no longer safe, the headband she wore containing a portable hard firewall to both enhance her capabilities as well as protect herself from others. Without it, her mind was an open book for anyone to poke around in. Worst of all, while a doll would receive simple alerts and messages, Addy received her information through tangible, human pain. She held her hands up in fear, pleading with Scarecrow to get out of her head.

"What a wonderful new world I've discovered," Scarecrow gloated, taking a deep breath of relaxation, "no wonder your creator gave you such a powerful defense system; you're absolutely useless without it."

"Please, I beg you!" Addy pleaded desperately.

Scarecrow ignored her. "What a curious layout, I have control over your entire nervous system. I can make you feel the flesh flayed from your skin, or give you the sensation of being burned alive. I've heard that humans find childbirth painful; how would you like to feel that?"

"Please-" Addy wanted to cry, but she found herself retching as her stomach tried to overturn itself. No longer in control of her body, she began to gag as her stomach attempted to purge its contents.

"Was it something you ate?" Scarecrow laughed to herself as she tortured the poor girl with her own bodily functions. "To call you a doll is an insult to myself and my kind; you are just a toy."

"That's enough!" Fredrick yelled, still rubbing his throat from when Addy had tried to choke him out. "She's our prisoner now."

Scarecrow didn't argue, and withdrew her control of the Nyto. Immediately, Addy was finally able to vomit. After vacating her stomach contents, she wept at her loss of control. She had considered herself the best of both doll and human, but Scarecrow had reminded her she was really the worst. Looking at the broken woman, he couldn't help but feel a ping of sympathy for her. Part of Fredrick wanted to feel bad for the poor girl, but another part of him knew that she wasn't a girl at all. In the end, she didn't deserve his kindness. He had seen what her actions had done to the girls he spent so much time caring for, and to Kar98k who he had been trying so hard to raise properly. He loved these girls like they were his own, and this bitch was working against them. Addy was the enemy, no matter how many tears she shed. With an exasperated sigh, he looked around and realized just how big of a mess he was going to have to clean up.