Brad stood washing his hands in a utility sink, silver grime streaming from his hands and arms. The water was warm and he wasn't; he easily spaced out in what small comfort it was.

Naomi clearing her throat nearby brought him back to reality. Noticing her, Brad turned the water off.

Neither said anything. Brad gave the area a low-effort scan - and, failing to find a towel, just wiped his hands on the nearby wad of his filthy shirt.

Naomi approached and silently offered him a clean shirt. He reached, and she withdrew it.

Brad blinked tiredly at her.

"Is he going to let us stay here?" Naomi asked.

"Layon?" Brad looked annoyed. "He doesn't get a choice."

"Would it be that hard to just ask?"

"If you're worried about it, you ask."

"Have we just decided basic human decency isn't our thing?"

Brad leaned hard on the wall and glared, silent. Naomi had no idea what'd gone on between the two men, only something something stolen Shadow Fox.

The longhaired man considered saying something, but didn't. He opted to retrieve and light a cigarette instead.

Naomi just watched him. Anyone else would've only seen a brooding, irritable-looking man and probably been pissed off with him. But she saw that his hands were trembling and he wouldn't meet her eyes: just upset and didn't have words.

"How's the Fox?" She asked.

"Not great." Brad swiftly redirected the topic. "Your Sniper's probably going to need a lot of work after this. Sorry. I'll pay."

"It's fine." It wasn't fine. She was actually quite annoyed by it. But Naomi was wise to Brad's tendency to dodge subjects he didn't want to deal with. "Can I ask you something?"

Brad looked almost as wiped as he'd been several weeks ago. He just gave the woman another dull, tired blink.

"Of course."

"What is it with you and that black Organoid?"

Brad closed his eyes and leaned back onto the wall, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Don't know what you're-"

"No." Naomi spoke sharply. "Don't bullshit. Talk."

"...babe. I really don't know what to tell you." That was the truth.

"Then can you just explain why, after everything that's happened, you seemingly just walked straight into a mess with that fucking thing in the middle. This was all already bad enough with fucking… Ambient, but-"

Ambient.

Brad started looking around. Beyond asking Ambient to get him into the base, he'd not really checked on or asked after the creature. Where was-

"Brad." Now Naomi sounded afraid.

She was still dressed in her full outdoor gear, gloves and all. She raised both forearms, bent at the elbow, and her pale skin showed through matching slices in the black leather. From wrist to elbow, clean and complete. Both arms.

Her voice shook. "That thing wasn't fucking around." The woman's clothes and gloves had not only taken the hit, but made obvious what injury had been narrowly avoided.

Injury? Who was she kidding. That nightmarish faceful of teeth was absolutely aiming to take her head off, and likely would have - if she hadn't literally shot it in the face. Not a comforting thought, or one that would leave her soon.

"And you? You want it." Naomi knew lust on the man's face when she saw it, and she'd certainly seen it. She couldn't begin to fathom a reason, and the wildly dissonant concepts disgusted her. "Why?!"

An unpleasant crawl of realization made its way up Brad's spine as he looked at the woman's sleeves. He couldn't help that he-

He hadn't answered. Naomi snapped.

"Come on, Brad! Simple question! What the hell is wrong with you?! Whose side are you on, here?!"

"Ours!" The man replied quickly. But he hesitated. "I'm just- there's-"

~He bonded with yeh, then took it back.~ Ambient's low voice slid into his mind as if oiled. ~S'a vile thing to do. Not only's he hurt yeh, but it's like any bond.~ The red Organoid seemed to struggle with the human term for 'magnets', so imaged the concept and mumbled in Zoidian. ~Subtly changes things. You know.~

No, he didn't know, but that made sense. Sort of.

Brad blinked several times, then looked at Naomi. His brow creased unhappily.

"Look. It's just impossible to forget how it felt to pilot the Berserk Fury. That thing just… it's amazing. Everything you could ever want. Everything we could ever want." The man's face twitched an unsettling grin that he failed to keep subtle. "Think of how powerful-"

"No. Stop." Naomi held up a hand to silence him. "We've killed four fucking people. That is four too many. I don't want anything but for all of this to stop, to be over." Her voice rose again, angry and anxious. "And for you to stop being this way. Please!"

Brad's arm throbbed with a pain that wasn't his. His stomach lurched with hunger that wasn't his. He could feel Ambient's tired regard off to one side, while the rest of his body felt subterranean with his knowledge of the Fox's state.

Staring at Naomi's anxious face bled out what little resolve he had left. He wanted to stop being 'this way' too, but...

"I don't know how." Brad's voice went thin with stress. "I'm trying. To fix this. To stop this. But it did something to me. I can't just ignore it."

"Yes, you can! Just - ignore it!"

Brad looked up and away, dispersing his frustration with a harsh, smoke-filled sigh at the ceiling. After several seconds he looked back down, visibly upset.

"It's not that simple. It's not - I just don't know what to do anymore, Naomi. I really don't. What do you want me to do? Like actually do. Tell me. I'll do it."

Naomi wanted to be angry, but the man's obvious and desperate sincerity wouldn't allow it. So she motioned her head towards Ambient.

"Fine. Get rid of that."

Ambient lay to one side in the shadows, curled into a tight coil. It had been licking its wounded cabling, its optics dim and narrowed. It met Brad's gaze as he glanced, emanating intense threat.

Brad's throat worked.

He wasn't afraid of Ambient. He understood its situation: those were not superficial injuries. The creature was tired and in pain.

Brad slowly shook his head. "I'm… I'm pretty sure he saved the Fox."

"I don't care." Naomi produced a pistol from a holster on her hip and racked the slide on her belt. She never broke eye contact. "Get rid of it. Or I will."

"He's not dangerous. To us. He just wants-"

"I don't give a fuck what it wants, Brad."

Brad lost his patience and nerve at the same time. "Come on! He won't hurt you!"

"You don't know that! You don't control it!"

"No, but he'll listen to me!"

Naomi shook her head with disgust and stormed over to the Organoid, aiming the pistol at the furrow between the creature's crest and brow-ridge. "Then fucking prove it. It obviously knows what guns are. So make it stay right here so I can put it out of its fucking misery."

Ambient stopped what it was doing. It leaned its head and neck away, but Naomi tracked it.

"Naomi-"

~Lad.~ Ambient growled in warning, spines at the end of its tail flexing.

She won't do it. Stay still.

~Ah've killed people for much less.~

Brad didn't doubt that. Naomi wasn't privy to the conversation, but did watch Brad's expression lunge with intensity.

STAY. STILL.

~Yeh'r vastly overestimating my patience.~

You came to me. You stayed. Why?

~Your bitch has a gun pointed at m'head and yeh'r tryn'a have a fuckin' conversation?~

You can be out of here in a damn second, but you're-

~Ah'm exhausted, idiot. Get her th'hell away from me!~

Naomi scowled and jammed the pistol up against the red Organoid's head with a dense thunk. Ambient severely dimmed its optics and glared at Brad.

Brad glared right back, then looked at Naomi. "Please. Don't."

Naomi's throat worked as she stared down at Ambient, watching for any movement, any excuse.

"Naomi." Brad said firmly "That black Organoid - One? Ambient's not like him. I know One is bad, like the fucking kid is. Who knows, maybe we can get rid of it. I don't want to want the damn thing. I just do." The man loosely motioned at Ambient. "Don't take it out on him. He's got nothing to do with it."

"Then why'd all this shit show up all at once?" Naomi snapped.

"I don't know! All I know is that he was shot by someone at Backdraft and was looking for help. Fucked by them all the same as we were! He scared me at first too!"

Naomi stared at Ambient's optics, which shifted to her dully. The threat in them was clear but half-hearted. Far more 'fuck off' than 'fuck you.'

After several seconds, she faltered. The woman's arm dropped to her side, and she closed her eyes. Then she stayed like that for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Brad stepped close and pulled the pistol from her hand, absently unloading it. He set it aside, then slipped his arms around the woman. She reciprocated, and dropped her forehead to Brad's chest. He held her close, and kissed the top of her head.

A pause.

Naomi suddenly leaned back. Thin strings of silver Zoid grime trailed between Brad's bare chest and her, stuck to her face and bangs. She squinted up at the man.

Brad's filthy state was the definition of obvious. He bit his lip and shrugged, trying not to grin.

Naomi tried to look irritated, but couldn't maintain it. The lull in both stress and severity made the strange situation even stranger. Her verdict: a weird giggle.

"God. You're so gross."

"Currently, or in general?" Brad motioned a vague hand up and down himself as if to demonstrate. "I mean. It's not like I'm standing here pretending to be clean."

"You're gross and an asshole." A smirk made her mischief clear.

Brad mustered a chuckle and leaned forward, quickly running his tongue from Naomi's collarbone to her ear. "Upgrades. Fantastic."

"Brad!" She pushed away with a laugh, as Brad hopped back and meandered aside with his lanky grace.

Ambient watched the two, then lay its head on its foreclaws.

There were many things to sort through... later.

For now, the wilderness-weary couple just needed a shower.


Soft, even breathing. Vega had fallen asleep on him.

Bit found himself struck by how small Vega appeared when not awake. Absent the boy's forceful demeanor and the sense of presence One added, Vega seemed almost fragile. Bit hadn't been around children much as an adult, and often forgot Vega was a child when dealing with him.

Bit carefully stood up with Vega and carried him to a nearby cot. Minding Vega's bandaged shoulder, Bit pulled a blanket over him. The hangar, like the desert surrounding it, was quite cold at night - especially while missing stretches of wall like it was.

There came the sensation of being watched. At first he'd assumed it was One or a Zoid, but it wasn't the right feel for that. After making sure Vega stayed asleep, he glanced over his shoulder.

It was dark, with only the dim perimeter lighting available. Green eyes flicked at the hangar's depth suspiciously.

Zero offered a mental image of Polta. Via the Organoid's awareness Bit suddenly knew where the man was, despite not being able to see him. He bristled at what'd clearly been an intentionally-silent approach.

"Can I help you?" Bit said quietly at the dark.

Polta took a drag from a cigarette, the brief flare of its tip finally giving his position away. He shook his head.

"No. Sara asked me to keep an eye on Vega."

Bit sarcastically demonstrated where Vega lay. "Well. Have fun. Don't wake him up."

Polta just regarded Bit idly.

The blonde waited several silent seconds before stalking towards the Liger.

Why are you okay with that jerk? Bit thought irritably at Zero, wondering how long Polta had been there. You know we've fought him before. He's a p-

~He is scared, and lost.~ Zero responded, tone blunt. ~No good can come of holding past actions against people. Especially if they had reason, or have changed.~

The reason is because he worked for Backdraft. And he still might. Bit gave a wordless growl and shook his head. He's just an ass. And seems proud of it.

~He thinks the same of you.~ Zero said with the idea of a shrug. ~And you are also a little scared, and a little lost. Perhaps there is a correlation.~

Bit stopped walking. Both the Liger and Zero's awareness were fixed on him, the sensation almost like a physical pressure. He looked up at the Liger.

Briefly - very briefly - he wanted to be angry. The past few weeks had been both troubling and exhilarating: for every exhilarating high he'd found with his Organoid, the surrounding lows of both their situation and reality had been slamming him into the ground hard, over and over again.

The dreams. Zero's unfettered recollections. One's strange troubles and Vega's deep need for guidance. That other Organoid, and whatever was going on with Brad and Naomi. Sara and Polta being at base.

Sara's concerns about the black box.

More than anything, Sara's words hollowed Bit out, made him feel stuck, sick, and uncertain. Combined with not knowing what to do for Vega, he did feel a little scared. He did feel a little lost.

Bit continued to the Liger and sat down behind its leg, making sure he was out of Polta's view. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to sort through his thoughts.

You do realize we'll never be able to take the Liger in for extensive maintenance again? Is that gonna… work, long-term?

~I am able to regenerate damaged systems and can heal most injury with ease. It will not be an issue.~

Okay. What about the CAS? Can you do anything about those?

~No. They are manmade.~

...so are a lot of other Zoid parts.

~It is different. Though the Liger and I do enjoy the CAS.~

Bit squinted at the concrete, then shut his eyes. Different? Different how?

He didn't understand, but didn't want to ask. Or worse, argue. Though it was difficult to call anything between the two 'arguing.' Bit felt deeply and constantly compelled to agree with the Organoid… because of course he did. How could he ever disagree with Zero?

A muscle in his cheek twitched.

He considered what Zero had said about Vega's constant acquiescence to One.

This wasn't the same thing… right?

Of course not.

His eyes flicked in thought behind closed lids. He moved on to other subjects.

Such as what was much lower on the worries list, but worth finally being concerned about: the Hover Cargo and its contents. While Bit knew preparations were being made to repair the base, he wasn't sure about anything else. He'd earlier gone with Steve and Jaime to look over the damaged Hover Cargo.

The transport was repairable, albeit at the cost of a near-complete overhaul. Two of the Liger's armor sets were okay, but the third - the Jager - had lost one whole side in the CPG's shear. No longer usable.

Steve offered to rebuild the parts after the base was seen to, but Bit declined. They had enough to do already, and there weren't really battles to worry with yet. Perhaps later.

Bit also didn't want to express a newfound resentment: that he'd come to rely on the CAS so much. It wasn't Steve's fault, it was his. And his problem to own.

But he just couldn't help but wonder if things would've turned out differently - perhaps better - had he been able to use the Schneider, or even Panzer armor in the battle with the Berserk Fury.

He tried not to think about the battle, but often couldn't help pick at every panicked mistake he knew he'd made. It was all too easy to spiral into an abyss of 'if only I'd…'

Zero's sharp voice intervened. ~The Berserk Fury is no more. There is no use worrying on how to best control the outcome of a situation that can no longer exist.~

That was true. Bit dragged himself out of the mire, again restlessly moving on to something else.

Well then… what are we gonna do for Vega? We have to do something.

~And we will. Vega needs to learn to assert himself.~

"He's just a kid, dude." Bit whispered.

The Liger Zero's head turned down towards Bit. The doubled awareness emanating from it was almost painful to be the target of.

~And One is 'just' an embodiment of destruction and consumption that must be maintained appropriately. It is unfortunate that Vega is so young, but that does nothing to change the situation.~

Bit looked meekly aside. Then after a moment, glanced up again.

What are you?

Zero reflected a questioning, arched brow.

If One's 'destruction' and whatever… what are you?

~Whatever you believe I am, Bit.~


Layon couldn't sleep.

Adrenaline and alcohol only made a mess of the man. Rather than restless turmoil, he got up and paced his cold base.

Strangers being present unsettled him too. The defenses of Layon's base were simple: they relied on keeping people out. Between its highly-reinforced structure and sheer isolation, nobody ever just… got in like this.

Brad and Naomi hadn't really asked if they could stay. They just… stayed. Brad made coffee and food, moved things, opened cabinets and made fierce eye-contact every time Layon considered objecting.

Layon absolutely hated that man.

But he was at least grateful that Brad had the sense to bring the Fox to him for help.

Layon felt ambivalent towards Naomi. He was quite aware via the tech in his base that she'd brought no fewer than three guns in, obscured on her person. He'd considered saying something, but thought better of it.

He didn't really trust her, but Naomi had no reason to trust him, either. He got the picture, and knew Brad was armed too.

The pair weren't doing much worth the danger of trying to force them out. Strictly speaking, the worst thing they did was use his water - and given the season, it wasn't an issue.

Layon sighed. He paused in a particular doorway for the fifth or sixth time, staring in.

Brad and Naomi were asleep together on a small sofa in the study. Layon had assumed - but didn't know for certain - that the two were more than just teammates. Their simple and complete comfort with each other said everything.

Layon scowled.

It wasn't quite reasonable to wish no one would dare indulge a relationship in his presence, but it irritated him regardless. He shook his head and turned-

Ambient was standing right there. Silent, still, and in shadow. Dim green optics had been looking at the couple, but shifted to regard Layon.

Layon took a sharp breath, mind blanking with shock.

Movement caught his eye. Across the way Brad had his eyes open, staring, as he held a shushing finger to his lips.

The larger man rapidly shook his head. Nope . Absolutely n-

Red blazed and the three rematerialized in an empty corridor of Layon's base, far off from the study. Ambient slinked off to one side, grunting uncomfortably.

Layon took in the sudden change of location, staggered back, and pressed against the opposite wall.

"What the- fffffffwere you just not going to mention YOU HAVE AN ORGANOID WITH YOU?!"

"Not really, no." Brad looked equal parts tired and annoyed. "Look. Naomi's had it rough the last few days. Pipe down."

Layon pointed hard at Ambient. "This thing showed up at Backdraft and slammed a man through revaglass like it was nothing! Fuck you and your-"

~The bloody idiot shouldnae have shot me.~ Ambient grumbled.

Layon blinked, and looked quickly between the Organoid and Brad. Did it just-

~Aye. Ooh, aahh, it talks.~ Ambient wiggled its foreclaws mockingly and shook its head. ~Shut th'fuck up. Yeh're loud.~

Layon stared at Ambient for several seconds, studying it. This was indeed the same red Organoid that'd shown up at Backdraft. It just looked better, much better. There were still cracks and splits in parts of its carapace. But much of the serious damage Layon had seen before was fading, or no longer visible. And it didn't look repaired. It looked healed.

Well, minus the fresh-looking gash in its chest. Which it stood in an intensely guarded way over.

Layon's green eyes flicked with thought. He glanced at Brad.

"This isn't the Organoid that damaged the Fox, is it?"

Brad shook his head.

Layon looked back at Ambient. If there was one thing that the physiology of an Organoid made painfully clear, it was that they were predators.

"Is it dangerous?"

Brad raised both brows, then slid Ambient a knowing grin. "Depends on who's asking."

Layon winced. But his piqued and reckless curiosity eagerly ran caution out of town.

"Is this - is he yours?"

Ambient chuff-laughed, the sound mixed with Brad's low chuckle.

"Hnh. Not quite how things work, Layon."