A/N: Back again! It's a short one this time because I am frantically trying to push something out before June. No *winky**winky* this time but I promise the next will be a banger!

Reviewers:
SignalHunter -
Thunder's just an adorable little Handgun.
Koblenz - Eh, I'm not going to lie, it's been a real struggle to write in the past year. Too many ideas and far too little time to write them up.
Mo Eazy - I loved Arknights when it first came out, but I abandoned ship when it very, very quickly turned into back-to-back exclusive banners and events. Saw that coming and Nope'd the heck out. Which sucks because I like the characters, art, and lore. That being said, I am 100% sneaking in tiny references here and there, and have the groundwork available to mix elements in later. The question on reprinting dolls is kind of iffy. I honestly have a hard time remembering if certain dolls are 'last of their kind' or if that's just fancanon. That being said, Intellectual Property rights is the easy answer. They don't have permission/the factory specs. But that can be fixed down the road (fiendish grinning). Digimind will be introduced down the road as well. Appreciate the ideas and glad you're enjoying the story!
Freddylane1 - I would argue Helian's not a virgin, but that doesn't mean she's got regular suitors. Too intimidating when in business-mode, too clingy when drunk.
Pan0ply - I legit did not know there was an actual 'proto doll' and 'murder doll' thing in GFL, so I appreciate the heads up. Will correct it going forwards.
CultureHunt3r - I've been bouncing back and forth ideas of whether Commander even hooks up with K and H, or leaves it at Tactical Dolls. Both for story reasons and for character reasons. Either way, K and H will continue to provide some fun moments in the background. And eventually I may start revealing Helianthus' drunk texts for her humiliation.
Be an 1an - The hate-iest of boners!
Humlet - Glad to see you enjoy it! It's eventually going to get smutty again, but I've got to psych myself up for that because I've learned in writing this story I just don't like writing those scenes. Feels too weird. But don't worry, that will be overcome. :D


Perspective - Grizzly
Commander's Office, Base Oberon
3:25 PM

Jericho's grimace welcomed Grizzly into the office. The stately, straight-edge Handgun wore an uncomfortable expression, the kind that reminded Grizzly of movie characters that were hiding in a sewer and were about to have to trudge through all kinds of gross stuff. Not the most heartening greeting to find on her arrival, but Grizzly knew better than to hope for the best in the current situation. If anything, she would have been surprised if Jericho was chipper.

After all, she had a fair idea of the way this meeting was going to go down.

Unauthorized entry into the Commander's office. Failure to conform to appropriate conversational standards. Arguing with a human officer. Raising her voice at same officer. Mutinous behavior. Threatening to engage in mutiny. Coordinating organized rebellion against a human officer's orders… the list went on. She broke well over a dozen regulations with her stunt, and she had a good grasp on what sort of man their current Commander was. While she doubted he would pull out any of the extreme punishments that her various breaches could entail, she doubted she was getting away scot-free.

There would be some form of punishment; potentially one that would make her life miserable for the foreseeable future. Grizzly did not mind. She was fully ready to accept the consequences of her actions. She had been ready before she and the others had that meeting, though she did feel just a little miffed that they were apparently being ignored as far as punishment was concerned. Then again, they had merely been there for moral support. Even MP7 kept her mouth shut in the situation, which spoke volumes to the brash stupidity of Grizzly's actions.

This situation would have been easier to read if she were human, she decided. Oh, there had already been hints to their thoughts. She was of course ordered to report to Persica for a neural screening, where her core was run through a series of tests to investigate the possibility of emotional or cognizant data corruption. The results were of course access-locked, so she had no idea what they found. She did not think she was suffering any form of data corruption. Then again, she could hardly recognize if she did. Humans had a… what was it? A 'gut feeling' when they knew something was wrong. But Tactical Dolls were simply a personification of zeros and ones; extraordinarily complicated lines of code that simulated organic life.

Never in her life had Grizzly made the mistake of comparing herself to humans. Humans and dolls were entirely separate beings. There was no relation between them other than visual appearance. Human beings were the original, the true beings. Tactical Dolls were just servants built to aid them in various industries. In Griffin and Kryuger's situation, the company chose to utilize service industry dolls for warfighting purposes, arguing that the more 'humanistic' qualities of their style of dolls made for more relatable and better operatives. Had they needed a purely quantitative military force, there were far cheaper and more powerful models available.

Their existences were at the behest of human whim. She knew that, and she did not detest humanity for it. After all, humans were weak and needed protecting. It was not the Tactical Dolls' decision for how that protection was to be applied.

In that regard she had horrifically overstepped her position, and she knew that. Her actions were inexcusable, unforgivable in some circles. But she could not easily shake off the knowledge that Thunder risked her final model for humanity, and there was no consideration given for her many years of service.

Damn it! If only Commander had just told them that he was hiding an untouched batch of Thunder backups. When she heard the news over the Neural Network she had not believed it. Dumbfounded by the news, she had nearly spilled her drink on an equally bewildered M9.

Hindsight was truly a merciless mistress, the Handgun thought wearily. She closed down her tangential thought processes and focused on the present. In the half-second of her thoughts, Jericho had stepped back and allowed her access to the room. Commander had stood up from his desk, his grim demeanor betraying nothing of his thoughts.

Disturbingly, Jericho exited the room, closing the door behind her in a silent retreat that, while she doubted it was planned for melodramatic effect, effectively sealed Grizzly in the room like a mouse in a snake's lair.

That was unfair to Commander. She would never consider him a 'snake.' His personality was too… loud. She vaguely remembered a line from a long-dead television series that described her interpretation of him the best. If I ever kill you, you'll be awake. You'll be facing me. And you'll be armed. She imagined Commander was equally upfront and honest, though she had to admit he had his fair share of mystery. But weren't all human war heroes people of sterling character? That is how she understood it from the plethora of reference material she'd read through at one time or another.

"Take a seat, Grizzly."

Commander gestured to the nearer chair. She glanced down at it, then took a seat without saying a word. It may be too late at this juncture, but showing obedience without a trace of pushback could possibly alleviate whatever was to come. That was what her logic processes decided with regards to Commander's personality. Settling in quickly and efficiently, she fixed Commander with an earnest gaze and awaited his judgment.

"Before I begin, do you have anything to say?"

The Handgun watched his face, desperate to glean anything from his mask. He was as expressionless as a statue at the moment, and she regretted not spending more time studying human mannerisms. They could be so expressive, but weirdly, sometimes that expressiveness was even harder to interpret than no expression at all.

"No, Commander. I am aware of the consequences of my actions and how they reflect upon myself and the other Tactical Dolls."

She expected the answer to earn her some measure of approval. At the very least, Commander struck her as the kind who valued those who understood accountability and responsibility. Instead, to her surprise, Commander's eyes became pitying, and he let out a disappointed noise.

"Do you honestly believe that, Grizzly?"

"...yes?"

Is that not what Commander wanted to hear? Her experience with previous commanders, with humans in general, taught her the value of obedience, and even after an outburst or misbehavior they were usually susceptible to a cutesy show of earnestness and obedience. She did not particularly consider it lying to them. Her data was easy to read and they had to know she was playing to their egos. But she had never had a commander react in a negative fashion like this. It was almost as if he wanted her to be rebellious.

"I thought Tactical Dolls are programmed to not lie to humans."

"What I said was not a lie, Commander."

"Yes, the fact that you are 'aware' of your actions." Commander's grimace deepened, and Grizzly had the uncomfortable thought that she might be advancing down the wrong path. She frantically considered how to reverse course and find another angle for this conversation. While she had no qualms about being punished for what she did, she honestly believed in protecting Thunder's remaining model, that did not mean she wanted to deal with the full weight of Commander's wrath. "That being said, I asked if you believed that. Being aware and believing are two entirely different concepts. Do you believe in the consequences of your actions?"

The Handgun paused for several seconds, poring over the man's words and trying to divine what he meant. This conversation was not matching any script she had been over before. She had entered his office expecting a moderate scolding, some threats, then a gradual easing of tension before the commander let her off with some minor punishment and a warning, cushioned with some form of reassurance.

What she did not expect was Commander focusing on her interpretation of the events. Why did it matter? She was just a Tactical Doll, wasn't she? The only thing Commander should care about was her ability to follow orders, not what she thought about them.

"I stand by what I did, Commander," she ventured after mulling over his words. "No matter the punishment."

"See, the problem is that you think you will be the only one punished." Commander tapped a manila envelope on his desk. Likely, it was her folder. Possibly her punitive history. "You have a history of bucking authority, Grizzly. Every commander prior has at least one incident on record where you dared speak out of turn. Most of them have several."

"I am aware of my record, Commander."

"Then you should be aware that repeat offenses are logged with the manufacturer." Commander's gaze hardened. He pierced right through her, transfixing Grizzly in place. "Insubordination to a human master. A single incident is enough to warrant a factory reboot."

"... it is." She could not deny what he said. The man spoke truthfully. She had watched it before, too. Hardworking Tactical Dolls making a single misstep, speaking up one time over sometimes innocuous events… gone, just like that. Recalled to their factory and wiped or disposed of. It was a hazard of their existence, and one she could do nothing about.

"Do you know why you have never been sent in for a factory reboot?"

This time, Grizzly kept her mouth shut. She did not want to venture a guess, though she had a solid understanding of why. It was because the previous commanders had all been… well, seduced was not the right word. Mollified, appeased. Chose to forget because one thing she had learned is that human men tended to find Tactical Dolls sexually appealing. Even without trying to flirt, she drew plenty of eyes from human staffers, as did all the Tactical Dolls. Considering Commander's reputation, she honestly had wondered if he would make a pass at her too at some point.

"Each one of your previous commanders listed you as an integral aspect of the barracks." Commander offered her praise in a way that sounded very not-praiseworthy. She was amazed at how he turned what would normally be a glowing review into a pronouncement of doom. "They stated that your presence proved vital to Tactical Doll morale, and recommended your infractions be struck from the record."

"They were very kind," Grizzly admitted. That was not a lie. They were too kind. So kind that most of them ended up dead or emotionally broken before long. Griffin and Kryuger work was not kind. It was not clean. The fragile humans that oversaw operations were forced to deal with loss after loss, tragedy after tragedy. Rare was the human that could handle the pressure for long. She often wondered at the paradoxical nature of humans that such gentle souls sought to serve as warriors.

"Kind, and foolish. Dissent is a cancer, Grizzly." Commander opened the envelope, turned it around, and slid it to the edge of his desk. She leaned forward and took the envelope.

It was not her file. It was Thunder's. More specifically, it was a list of every time Thunder had been replaced in a combat operation. Beside each event was the name of the Tactical Doll that took her place.

Grizzly's name appeared on one third of the listed events.

"This date," he noted, pointing to one highlighted in yellow. "Occurred the day I gave the order to stop making excuses for her. "Whose name is that?"

"...Jericho."

"And whose is that?"

"Python."

"This one?"

"PSM."

Commander leaned back in his seat. "How many names?"

"Twelve, Commander."

"Twelve Tactical Dolls." He exhaled slowly, solemn eyes transfixing Grizzly in place. She returned his gaze unflinchingly, though she could not deny the unease creeping through her core as she grasped for this conversation's direction. "One of them is not even a Handgun: G36C. That is not counting the others who entered this office with you this morning. That is more than ten percent of the garrison involved with covering for Thunder. Do you have any idea how badly it would harm the base if we have a ten percent loss of personnel?"

"...loss of personnel?" Grizzly's eyes widened. Surely he couldn't- Commander must be joking.

"How am I to run a base with a sizable portion of the garrison acting clandestinely under my nose?" Commander's brows twitched closer together. "Half of the Handguns either actively disobeyed direct commands and participated in mutinous activity. Do you know what happened to human soldiers who did such things in the old days? They would be court-martialed and sometimes shot."

"Guh… You aren't going to shoot us, Commander, right?" She forced a strained smile, but her body felt like lead. A sinking pit formed in her awareness, a miserable weight that pinned her to the seat. The Handgun swallowed nervously when Commander's expression did not shift.

"This base operates on the front line of Sangvis Ferri territory. We engage in daily operations that risk the lives of operators. I cannot in good conscience run this facility knowing that there is a sizable element of Tactical Dolls I cannot trust. And I am also not so naïve to believe that every Tactical Doll on base would report every infraction made by their peers, nor would I expect them to.

"Rosters are created based on carefully vetted formations where certain Tactical Dolls have proven effective alongside others. Disrupting those formations causes a loss of cohesion, a loss of synergy, and… according to the combat data of those missions where Thunder was replaced… an increase in casualties and damage. Not to sound heartless, but the meddling of Tactical Dolls in the rosters has resulted in an estimated four point two million dollars of excess damages. The budget cares, and that budget is set by Griffin and Kryuger corporate. Which means that I have been enduring some pointed questions from my bosses, which reflects poorly on me and the base in general.

"So, what am I to do? I have Tactical Dolls refusing orders, publicly voicing mutiny. What would you do in my place, Grizzly?"

"I… um…" the Handgun blanched. She could hear the somberness hidden in his voice. It was a regretful emotion, the kind humans often voiced when announcing something they did not like, but knew had to be done. It was the kind of voice she had heard many times near the end of past Commander's careers, when those men were weighed down by self-imposed guilt over casualties and losses. "The proper procedure would be to punish infractions."

"How?"

"Commander?" Grizzly blinked in confusion. Commander stared back at her.

"How should I punish them? Jericho, what do I do with her? What about M1911? PSM? What punishment should they be assigned?"

"W-why are you asking me?"

"Maybe I want a second opinion. Maybe because you are the ringleader that started this off; that started off every incident with your past commanders. Maybe we could say I am bored. The 'why' does not matter. I am asking for your opinion now."

"Well… er…" She could hear the figurative servos spinning in her cognitive circuits. Her breathing sped up, body simulating the conditions of surprise and unease she knew she was experiencing. It would be simple enough to turn off those emotive displays, but that was something Tactical Dolls were not allowed to do on their own. Service dolls were supposed to be emotive, after all. "The… I'm not really sure I-"

"So you are willing to take responsibility for your own actions, but not for the Tactical Dolls that were inspired by what you did and followed in your footsteps."

Commander's words struck her like a slap in the face. He did not state it in a terribly rude or cruel way; Grizzly simply had not been prepared for that accusation. The sensors in her throat and face recorded a rapid lowering of temperature, the Tactical Doll equivalent of when humans grew weak from shock or surprise.

"Well, then, we will just have to go forward with what I had planned." Commander shook his head ever so softly. The disappointment radiating from his body language hurt Grizzly far more than any punishment he meted out ever could. She had never disappointed a commander before. Irritated them, angered them, even made one cry on accident. But no commander had ever made her feel like she had spectacularly failed. This felt more like a father being disappointed in his lackluster daughter.

"Since you seem to be quite proud of your record with escaping consequences, we will not blemish your record. You will have a note, but otherwise you are free to go."

"...what?"

"As I said." Commander shrugged. "Every commander prior claimed you were integral to base morale. Who am I to argue with the reasoning of every commander before me? You are dismissed, Grizzly."

That wasn't right. Something wasn't right. Grizzly gulped and studied Commander's face. All she could see was the hard, impenetrable frown and the dark, judging gaze. Though his thoughts were hidden, there was no mistaking her impression that Commander had just given her two paths, and she chose the wrong one.

She had failed… something. The fact that she did not know what terrified her.

Her gaze fell to the sheet on the desk, resting on the names listed on the calendar.

"Um… Commander…"

Grizzly was not sure what made her speak. She bit her bottom lip, struggling to control her thoughts as too many conflicting ideas warred in her head.

"Yes, Grizzly?"

Commander had turned to his computer. When she spoke his name he paused and looked back at her. That look made her tactile sensors tingle.

"What… um… what about everyone else? Are you letting everyone go?"

"No." Commander placed a second sheet beside the first. The names matched. The contents differed wildly.

"Jericho, MP7, G36C and SVD will be transferred to Base Titania. Out of consideration for their record, these transfers will be categorized as a personnel transfer to alleviate Titania's current garrison issues. M1911, Python, Glock 17, Makarov, and Spitfire are to be remediated to their manufacturers for bug-testing and reset. PSM and M9 will-"

"W-wait, Commander!"

The room fell silent. Deathly, painfully silent. Grizzly clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified at the description beside the names Commander had just read aloud.

"You can't! They didn't do anything to-"

"Have they not?" Commander gestured towards the page. "I gave you the option for another punishment. You could have picked anything."

"But… why them?" Grizzly snatched up the paper and re-read the document. "What did they do to deserve this?"

"They did everything you did," he replied.

"Then why am I being let go without a punishment? Why are they being punished! No, not punished. You are sending them off to be factory reset!"

"A punishment that is well within legal and contractual response parameters." He nodded along, infuriatingly calm in the face of her panic. "I would do it for all of them seeing as how they are exhibiting aberrant behavior, but quite frankly we cannot afford to lose that many Tactical Dolls at once."

"Not M1911!" Grizzly's fingers dug into her palms. She had to fight to resist the urge to pound on the table. At the same time, that unbearable weight shifted up to her chest, locking its claws around her core. One of her eyes blurred with a tear. "She's a good Handgun!"

"A good Handgun that followed another Handgun to force entrance into the base commander's office and threaten mutiny."

"She wasn't- I was the only one that said anything!"

"But she was there." Commander steepled his fingers before his face. He let out a long, dry breath. "They were all there, Grizzly, because of you. Time and time again, your fellow Tactical Dolls watched you flaunt the rules and disregard your human commanders. You bred an atmosphere where dolls do not fear disobedience, where they are willing to commit treason to the company in your name."

"I… that's not what I wanted…" If she had a heart, Grizzly was sure it would have sunk down to her belly. She lowered her head, the damning paper clenched tight in her fist.

"Of course you did not," Commander said. She was not looking, but she could have sworn his tone had softened.

"Please… please don't do this to them." Grizzly blinked back her tears, but more replaced them. She silently cursed her emotive programming, hating herself as her cheeks tightened and a quiet sob threatened to burst from her throat. "I prom- no, I'll swear it. I'll swear on whatever you want me to swear! Don't factory reset them! I- I'll be your personal servant. I'll let you do whatever you want to me! Just don't get rid of them. Factory resetting them is as good as killing them."

"Would you take their place?"

His question hung in the air. Grizzly could not bring her gaze up to meet his. She started at the desk. The question echoed in her head, bouncing from processor to processor, splitting a hundred different thought processes into interpreting the question.

"Take their place?"

"What happened this morning cannot be allowed to occur again. Either the followers need to be dealt with, or the leader. You have the capability to be a positive influence on base. I am sure you will learn your lesson this time."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

Grizzly took a deep breath. Then another. Then she wiped her eyes and forced herself to look up. To stare into his eyes that made her want to curl up in a ball. Her voice stalled, instinctively fighting against what she wanted to say. No, not what she wanted to say. She wanted to say nothing. To accept Commander's decision and flee the room with her tail tucked between her legs, to borrow a human expression.

She wanted to live.

Because factory resetting really was like death. It was worse than death. Your memory wiped clean, your habits erased and your experiences deleted. To spend the rest of your service running into humans and dolls that greeted you like an old friend that you've never met. She experienced first hand how devastating it was to the reset and the old friends, those awful meetings. She watched the pain in the dolls' faces when they realized that those strangers had once been close friends that they would not, could not, ever reminisce with.

Grizzly did not particularly fear death.

But she was terrified of being reset.

"If I offer to be factory reset, will you pardon all of them?"

The Handgun nearly choked on her own words. She bit her tongue twice, wincing from the sharp feedback, but she did not let her eyes wander. Holding Commander's patient gaze, Grizzly allowed the tears to flow down her cheeks.

"You are willing to accept full responsibility for your actions?"

"Mhm-m." Her tongue refused to move. What emerged was little more than a squeak.

"Is that a yes?"

The Handgun nodded. Her sense of balance wavered, and for a second she felt like she was going to pitch forward onto the floor. Like the floor was going to drop away and she was going to fall into a bottomless pit.

"Well, then. If you agree to taking the full punishment for the others, I will rescind these orders."

Commander picked the envelope from the desk and slid it into the trash. He pulled out a new envelope. This one Grizzly recognized. Though not often used, sometimes the Griffin and Kryuger staff used written notes for orders if they were being ceremonious or subtle. Her lips curled in a weak smile as she held out her hand for the orders.

"I… I know I probably don't have the right to say this," she murmured. "But… I am sorry for causing you trouble."

Commander said nothing. He watched in silence as she accepted the envelope, broke the seal with her finger, and upended the content into h-

What?

It took her a moment to realize what she was feeling. A thin, round object, a cold band that made her palm itch with an inexplicable sensation. She closed her fingers around it, feeling the sturdy metallic texture, examining the ring distractedly while she unfolded her orders in the other hand.

There was no fancy, formal write up. Commander had simply taken the official stationary and hand wrote the orders in neat, bold letters.

In accordance with Griffin and Kryuger regulations, the Tactical Doll known as Grizzly MkV is to be transferred from active duty to a support role in command staffing, to serve at the behest of the base commander and logistics officer. Duties to include secretarial work, morale officer, Tactical Doll mentorship, and others.

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"What?"

Grizzly read the order four times. Five times. Ten times. Her tears gave way to openmouthed wonder as she read and reread the order, her logic processors failing to comprehend this completely unexpected outcome.

"You have your orders," Commander grunted. "Effective tomorrow morning you will be reassigned to my office as a permanent secretary."

Grizzly opened her left hand. Her thoughts froze, transfixed by the object resting in her palm. The smooth, silver ring that every Tactical Doll knew by sight, dreamed of receiving both for what it meant, and what it could do.

"This is- you're giving me an Oath Ring, Commander?"

"Rebellious attitude aside, you have earned it. Your combat record is sterling, and your non-combat record is quite frankly astounding. I could use that as a secretary-cum-bodyguard."

"...bodyguard?"

"I am getting old, Grizzly." Commander offered a smile that did not quite meet his eyes. He huffed unhappily and rubbed his shoulder as if experiencing a phantom pain. "This latest excursion with Mac-10 reminded me of that unpleasant reality. If I do come under fire again, I would appreciate having someone watching my back I know I can trust."

"Trust? But… but I thought you could not trust me." The Handgun frowned. She clasped the ring tightly, but did not put it on. Confusion over Commander's reasoning left her more curious than excited at what he was telling her. "I argued with you. I broke protocol and regulations."

"To save a life." The human commander's smile grew a touch wider, and his eyes warmed. "Everything you did is inexcusable from the perspective of a grunt. From a command staff perspective, it is to be expected. There is only so much I could do to try and tame your spirit, and that is not something I regret. Griffin and Kryuuger need you. Your fellow dolls need you. The status quo simply needs a change to make it all work.

"Do not misunderstand," he assured her. "This is a punishment. You are being barred from combat mission duties and will no longer be out in the field except as bodyguard to staff. Your responsibilities and workload are going to skyrocket so fast you will be dizzy more days than not."

"I am being benched," Grizzly murmured, nodding sadly. She understood his view now, and as much as it pained her to hear it, she knew better than to complain. The thought of not joining her sisters in the field crushed her heart; but if that was all she had to endure, then she should be rejoicing at Commander's generosity. She truly had stepped over the line one too many times, and in a terribly public way too.

"The news is not all bad. I still intend to make full use of your talents. Chief among your duties will be as Tactical Doll morale officer. A new position, which we will be testing for possible rollout for every base. I realize that my offer of having an open door is taken by dolls and staffers alike as little more than a token gesture, especially for dolls. The human-doll divide is too distinct. The situation with Thunder is the perfect example of this. Rather than any of the dolls approaching me directly, they took to subversive means to pull Thunder from her combat missions. You were the only one ballsy enough to bring it up, and though your method was extreme, you at least took the step.

"I do not intend for you to serve as a spy; I want your position to be transparent and honest to your fellow Tactical Dolls. But if they have concerns they are uncomfortable with voicing to myself or other human staff, there needs to be a productive outlet. They come to you, and you determine the best way to deal with the situation in a legal and responsible manner."

"I understand, Commander."

"Good." He rose from his chair. The Handgun stood as well, bringing up her closed fist to clutch the gifted ring tightly. "Are you going to put it on?"

"I… oh…" She felt a little flurry of heat wash through her system. Grizzly blushed, and glanced down shyly at her hand. "Well, you do know what this sort of gift means, Commander. And giving away two on the same day. That's so very scandalous. What will the others say?"

"While I understand the romantic appeal of the Oath Rings," Commander admitted, "consider it more a gift for exemplary service, and a reminder to your new duties. You are a leader, Grizzly, even if you do not realize it. Maybe not on the battlefield, but you have many Tactical Dolls that would follow you into hell. Take care to remember that, for their sakes."

"I will, Commander!"

Unable to suppress a faint giggle, the Tactical Doll snatched the Oath Ring from her hand and slid the ring over her finger. A giddy rush of code surged through her body, causing her to moan sensually as the upgrade package ran auto-patches throughout her systems. Security channels shook hands and allowed data to pass through normally inadmissible firewalls. Factory-setting restrictions switched from locked to unlocked. The difference was instantaneous. She could feel the miniscule flare in her core processing, the nearly imperceptible rise in heat.

"Oh… wow." Grizzly stumbled backwards, almost tumbling back into her chair. Commander's strong arms caught her, holding her in place while her legs wobbled unsteadily. Dozens of updates flashed across her consciousness as the Oath Ring's programmed operation spread throughout every facet of her code.

"No one warned me the kind of reaction this caused you all," Commander muttered. "Thunder faceplanted when I gave her the first ring."

"T-thunder facep-plaahhnted?"

Her tongue lolled, chest heaving as she sucked in deep breaths. Not because she was tired, but because she felt that strange heat building in her belly and she wanted to cool back down. While primitive, the simple inhale-exhale process was excellent for flooding her open internals with cooling air.

"These rings do not come with an instruction manual. They also… here, just take a seat."

His muscular hands guided her back down into the chair. Grizzly clung to him for a moment, her eyes growing moist as she stared up at his discomforted expression. He looked really cute, she decided, with that manly beard and clear embarrassment clouding his cheeks. So damn cute she wanted to gobble him up an-

Oh, wow, this upgrade really did a number on her emotive processors.

"I'm sorry, Commander," the Handgun stammered, blushing furiously when she realized she was stroking his arm. Hastily pulling her hands back, Grizzly stuffed them into her armpits and ducked her head. "Hooo… this is embarrassing for both of us. I promise I'm not that kind of doll!"

"From what Thunder informed me, your reaction is perfectly normal," Commander said. He retreated to the minifridge and dug about inside. "Water?"

"Water would be nice."

An uncomfortable wetness itched at her thighs. Grizzly's eyes widened at the realization, and she crossed her legs to hide her reaction to the ring's effects.

"Something in the upgrade process apparently kicks your emotive suite into overdrive," Commander explained. He offered a bottle of water before moving back to his side of the desk. "It will pass in a minute. Take your time, wait it out."

"Yes, Commander."

Grizzly sipped at her water while Commander went back to work. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Content to enjoy the silence, the Handgun endured the fluttering sensations coursing through her circuits as her gaze kept straying back to Commander's face. He really had a nice face, she admitted to her private thoughts. When he was focused on his work like that he projected such a strong, reliable impression that she could not help but activate her recording feature to capture this intimate, private moment.

Every so often Commander would glance her way, checking on her state. She would flash him a little grin, he would smile back, and then they would both resume looking elsewhere. All the while she nursed her bottle of water and waited for the excessive emotions running rampant in her system to calm down.

"Commander," she ventured once she felt sufficiently calm. "You really are an asshole, you know that?"

He stopped typing, shot her a bemused look, then nodded. "I had to be sure you were willing to take responsibility, that you were willing to make a sacrificial choice for the welfare of your sister dolls. Was it cruel? Yes. Did I believe it was necessary? Also, yes."

"You could have traumatized poor little me," Grizzly complained. Despite her protestation, she grinned wider and stood up. "You'll have to make that up to me, you know."

"I am sure we can negotiate something."

"Good." Grizzly leaned over his desk, noting in silent satisfaction how his eyes did dip down for the barest of moments before meeting hers. The man did have a good reputation on base for his command abilities, but there was also the unavoidable truth that he was quite loose with women. With dolls, specifically. Rumor was he hadn't so much as given a single female staffer on base a second glance. But with Tactical Dolls…

Well, there was the ongoing betting pools. Grizzly knew at least three had put her name into the ring, and while she was not particularly adverse to the idea, she had to wonder just what it was about Commander that intrigued so many dolls. The more she pondered it, the more she was certain that the man's military record was what had so many hot and bothered over him. Commander was a rarity, a relic of a bygone era. He was the first commander she had ever served under who truly understood what it was they did, and how dangerous their jobs were.

Which was what had made his insistence on sending Thunder out so infuriating. But that was a discussion for another time. For right now, at this moment, Grizzly could think of only one way to get back at Commander for putting her through that emotional rollercoaster. It was something he needed, as did someone else. Someone just as dear to the Handgun as Thunder, and perhaps equally beloved by the dolls on base.

"You're going to take her out to dinner, Commander."

Commander's eyebrow quirked upwards, his only show of surprise. For several quiet seconds he eyed her quizzically, then the faint light of understanding dawned in his eyes.

"Is that an order, Grizzly?"

"I don't know, Commander." The Handgun offered her sweetest smile. "Am I allowed to boss you around now?"

"No."

"Tsk… shame. Well, consider it a suggestion from your Tactical Doll morale officer."

"You do not assume that role until tomorrow morning," he chided, though his tone was light and almost playful.

"Then I guess I'll remind you first thing."

"Your first order is to go through the reserves list and nominate your replacement. I trust you to find an appropriate fit. Kalina will deliver your new housing assignment; apologies for moving you suddenly, but the squads rooming together is an intentional decision for cohesion and morale."

"I understand completely, Commander. In fact, I know just the one to take my place." Taking a step back, Grizzly went to the position of attention and saluted. "Permission to be dismissed, Commander?"

"Permission granted, Grizzly." Her commander returned the salute.

Despite the wildness of the conversation and the quite frankly absurd route it had taken, Grizzly had to resist the urge to skip as she hurried outside. Her shoulders twitched from the effort of holding in her laughter.

Promoted.

The fact that Commander told her it was a punishment did not escape her awareness. She would miss the combat. She would miss fighting alongside her friends. And she knew she would despise standing by while the others were sent off in her stead. Many historical fictions described the competent, heroic battlefield heroes as being disdainful or even afraid of promotion to a staff position. Though it had not even happened yet, Grizzly felt she could understand why those men looked at promotion and advancement as something to be feared.

Still, Commander was placing a good deal of trust in her. Grizzly was not a fool that would squander this opportunity. He really was going out on a limb for her. She knew that. Taking a Tactical Doll with an extensive history of insubordinate behavior and placing her in a position of authority. Maybe it was for the best. Hopefully, it was for the best.

She absently thumbed the ring in circles over her finger. Commander said not to think too deep into it. In that regard, he lived up to his reputation as a man that just didn't quite get Tactical Dolls and how their thought processes worked. Oath Rings had such powerful connotations that dolls could not help but apply a romantic appeal to them. Commander had given her the ring as a token of respect, and perhaps even as a peace offering, but to Grizzly it was akin to professing his ardent affection.

Considering just how many Tactical Dolls he had banged since his arrival, she honestly wondered if he did have that intention, even subconsciously. She knew he had checked her out more than a couple times in the past month. From what she had gathered, Commander rarely made the first move. He let the dolls come to him, sometimes more passively than others. Very unlike the younger males, who desperately chased after a lay. He was more like a prized stallion spending his twilight years studding any mare that came into his stable.

Hmmm… a prized stallion with a fantastic cock, according to Ithaca.

Ignoring the concerned looks she received as she strode along the pavement, Grizzly checked the time and confirmed that all of her squadmates were out and about. She had a little bit of time to kill. With Commander's recording set to replay and that leftover tingling still lapping around her thighs, she knew just how she was going to spend it before suppertime.


Perspective - Jericho
Base Oberon
16:59

"Remind me to never doubt Grizzly's gut instincts again," Commander muttered dryly, his gaze fixed on the descending helicopter. A heavily modified UH-68BL, it was one of the oldest craft in the fleet but still well-loved for its sturdiness and dependability. The pilots called it a 'zombie-copter' due to the fabled indestructibility of the machine. Very little could bring one down save for a complete decapitation of the main rotor array.

And in this instance, it had taken just about everything up to that point.

A team of human medics rushed past, the battered copilot offering a weak thumbs up to Commander as if to downplay his wounds. Jericho commended the man for his bravery. It was easy for a Tactical Doll to ignore a crippling wound because they could just be swapped into new bodies. Humans did not have that luxury, so the blood-soaked bandages hastily wrapped over the remains of his right leg must have caused him excruciating pain and fear.

"Fucking hell," a nearby Tactical Doll breathed, one hand covering her mouth in a poor attempt to hide her amazement. Jericho shot Python a stern look, but the other Handgun was not paying the slightest bit of attention.

To be fair, fucking hell was an appropriate summary of the state of the teams.

Of the fifteen Tactical Dolls that had been sent out, two primary teams and one rapid-reaction team, only six were intact. The other nine were being pulled off the chopper in various states… well… pieces. Five of those were salvageable, two would have to be scrapped for parts and two more were going to have to pull their backups from pre-mission after being cored out.

Her artificial pulse quickened at the sight of Thunder's shattered frame. Her body had been blown in two, severed by the explosion that took out half her team. Though her core was intact, the frame had no chance of recovery. Had this been yesterday, she might have wept at the sight. But it was today, and despite the instinctive pain the Thunder's broken body caused, Jericho's lips curved upwards and she shot Commander a grateful look. One that he did not notice, for he too was occupied with the horrible scene before them.

"Commander!"

G41 limped over, her body sparking every few steps as loose electrical bursts emanated from her bullet-ridden frame. G41 was the only standing leader from any of the three teams. Aug had been cored and DP-12 was unable to move thanks to having her entire left side crushed.

"G41. Good to see you all made it out." Commander's expression remained calm, professional, but Jericho could sense the anger seething under his skin. That anger aimed outwards, casting itself over the near hills and into the contested zone. He did not blame the dolls for this fiasco. He blamed their foe. A foe that after quite some time of being stagnant in the region had pulled a fast one of Griffin and Kryuger.

"It was not pretty, Commander." The diminutive Assault Rifle bared her fangs in a show of displeasure. "That blasted monstrosity just would not die."

The operation this morning was to try and extend the contested zone further into Sangvis territory. Teams One and Two had been tasked with reconnaissance in an abandoned city zone. Two teams should have been enough, but Sangvis Ferri ambushed them with a Manticore. Team One had been nearly annihilated before Team Two arrived to distract and draw away the behemoth walker.

"If Sangvis Ferri is stationing armored units like that in their first defensive line, we'll have to rethink the reconnaissance formations." Commander stretched out a hand, and G41 adopted a smug expression, The doll pushed into his hand, rubbing affectionately against his palm the way a dog might. The fact that her hair was stained with oil and soot did not bother Commander in the slightest. If anything, he seemed to relax as he patted her head and praised her for her work.

"Oi! Commander!" Galil hurried over, her weapon bouncing on her back. Without a right arm to stabilize the weapon she appeared quite comical, but the Assault Rifle only wore a grin. "I think you must be a prophet. Thunder would be shlimazl had you not found her some backups."

"It was merely luck," Commander told them. He held out his other hand, and Galil fistbumped him. Laughing to herself, the Assault Rifle gave the preening G41 a pointed look before excusing herself.

"Well, I have a new arm to requisition. Left this one in the guts of a Tarantula. Come find me tonight, Commander, and I'll buy you a beer."

"I have a feeling half the base would buy your drink tonight," Jericho informed Commander. She was acutely aware of the earnest gazes resting on her commander. Gazes from relieved Tactical Dolls who had also overcome the momentary panic at seeing Thunder's damage.

"Just doing my job." Commander deflected her implied praise with ease.

"I doubt 'going solo to hunt human smugglers' is part of your job, Commander."

"Commander wasn't alone."

Her skin prickled at Mac-10's unannounced arrival. The SMG had an unearthly stealth to her. Sometimes she could be standing just behind you speaking and you would not even know she was there. Jericho appreciated that she at least did not have a head for pranks.

"Mac." Commander let G41 go, who reluctantly bobbed her head before hurrying off to the debriefing. With his attention no longer split, Commander allowed the SMG to press up against his side. Her hand wrapped around her slim waist, thumb rubbing gently against a long scar set nearly perfectly down her middle. Jericho watched their exchange, pretended she had not seen it, and looked elsewhere. Those two exchanged a muted conversation while they oversaw the last bits being unloaded from the helicopter.

The helicopter groaned suddenly, emitting a horrible rending sound before one of the rotors came apart and crashed to the tarmac. The sudden upheaval made the whole craft shudder, and the helicopter quickly shed itself of several more rotors and other pieces of equipment before letting out one final shriek of tearing metal. With little fanfare, the tail rotor housing tore free of its savaged tail boom.

Everyone paused to watch the corpse of the UH-68BL settle. Jericho could almost imagine the vehicle's death cry wail through the air.

"It is a miracle that helicopter made it home."

Commander shook his head. "Believe it or not, I have seen them come back in worse shape than this. Still, those pilots earned their pay today. If anyone is getting free drinks, it should be them."

"I will pass that suggestion along," Jericho agreed. She felt his gaze rest on her, but did not return that look. Today… she felt that she could not. Guilt plagued her conscience over her complicity in the Thunder conspiracy. Commander was aware of her involvement, but he had not mentioned it or given any indication of a punishment. Perhaps she would feel less guilt if he were to go ahead and deliver judgment. Her personal sense of right and wrong had been tripped, and that gnawed at her far more than her anticipation of disciplinary action.

"Jericho."

"Yes, Commander?"

"Please submit a request to Springfield. I would like for her to prepare a special meal for the three teams. Also, notify the base that the first round of drinks is on me tonight."

"That is quite generous, Commander."

His hand slid up Mac-10's bare skin, fingers dipping under her shirt as he rubbed the SMG's back. Loosing a quiet, catlike purr, the SMG closed her eyes and pressed into his embrace, nuzzling against his chest. Since their little excursion Mac-10 had become somewhat clingy to Commander. Observers noted this was the closest she had become to any human staffer in her time at Griffin and Kryuger. No one knew exactly what it was they had done, but Mac-10 had been involved in recovering the Thunder replacements. Jericho had a suspicion that Commander and the quiet SMG had undergone something harrowing; perhaps as deadly as a regular combat mission.

Sighing under her breath, the Handgun realized that the taut feeling spreading through her chest was identified as jealousy. Her eyes remained fixed on Commander's hand, tracing its every movement as he tenderly stroked Mac-10's body. Jealousy. She subverted the code section and filed that away for review.

It seemed Commander's charm could reach just about any doll on base.