Motoko carefully places me in the car's passenger seat. She even buckles me in! EEEEEE, It's like I'm a person!

She's too good to me, anyone else would have just thrown me in the garbage after stripping me of parts.

The car's engine starts with a roar, Motoko smiles slightly. "Let's go to the dump!"

W-What!? T-The dump?!

No, no, I must be overreacting, or that was just bad timing. She's not a lair, when she says she'll get something done, she gets it done. Have a little faith, Me!

The ride to the dump is uneventful, the only mildly notable thing is at one point Motoko takes a turn a bit sharp and almost spins out on the sand. She wrestles the car skillfully and keeps it going straight. For some reason the action seems to send a wave of… Satisfaction through her? A feeling like she earned something?

I don't get it, humans are weird.

Also I haven't really been paying attention the whole time, so maybe I mixed something up. There's just been this constant warm glow somewhere in my receiver, it feels like I've just fired off two belts, a kind of sore but pleasant feeling. I'm glad my face can't hurt, otherwise all of my smiling might have really made me sore.

After we pull into the dump, she gets out for a while. I can't really see outside all that well, so I don't know what's going on. But considering she didn't immediately heave me out the window to lie with the rest of the t-trash, she probably doesn't intend to leave me here.

Snffl. She really is too good to me.

She eventually comes back, smelling noticeably worse, and after storing some stuff she seems to have found, we go back to the apartment.

The shining room beyond the sliding door is just like I remember it. Singing gunsmith angels, fountains of lubricant, even a buffet brimming with 50 bmg!

Okay, there isn't any of that. But there may as well have been! Because it isn't long before I'm laid carefully on a table, and after Motoko takes off her coat, she approaches me with a box of cleaning supplies!

A set of brass brushes begin to find the little nooks and crannies, dislodging the leftover bits of evil sand that found its way inside. Ooohhhh yeaaaahh. It's like she's reading from the manual, she's getting all the right spots! If I was a dog my leg would be kicking like friggin crazy! You usually have to pay for this level of care!

"Hmm? Did somebody say sumthin'?" A sleepy voice mutters from behind Motoko.

Oh jam, was I moaning out loud!? This is Her fault for being too good at this! "H-Hello! Is somebody there?" I call out, trying to sound a little bit dignified.

I feel a pair of phantom eyes peek at me from around Motoko, the grip of a pistol peaks out from a holster hung on the small of her back. "Oh hey, I rememba you." The nasally feminine voice says, now sounding much more awake. She makes an obnoxious sound of smacking lips as if someone were chewing gum intentionally loud. "Yeah, you's that machine gun we got back at da scav's place. Sugar, I gotta tells ya, you ain't lookin' so hot…"

I shiver a little as Motoko runs a hand across the dent in my receiver. I try to keep the distraction from my voice as I respond. "W-Well yeah, she fired me from a moving car's open door, which was awesome by the way, but then we crashed. I… took a bit of a tumble."

The pistol makes a noise of surprise, smacking her lips loudly once more. "'Took a bit of a tumble' she says. Honey, you look ready for the scrapyard." The pistol carelessly states, mostly in surprise. It doesn't do anything for the sting of emotion that zips through me.

"T-That! She's!... She said she'd fix me! Even upgrade me!"

My vision is slightly blurry for some reason, but I can still see the sudden apologetic tilt of the pistol's eyes as she responds. "Oh shoot. Look, I'm sarrey, I didn't mean it like that. If she's gonna fix you's up, then she will. She's good people like that."

"Snffl. Yeah… yeah, she's great people…"

The room remains silent for a time, the only noises being the gentle, so very gentle, sounds of the brush against my parts. She even field strips me to get at the more internal parts and clean those as well, although the large dent in my body makes it a little hard to do.

"I s'pose we got off ta'a bad start there, sugar." The pistol murmurs, disrupting the quiet, her chewing has slowed, but not completely stopped. A subtle glance in her directions shows her attention turned to the walls of the room, not really looking at anything. "Name's Unity, Motoko's first piece. Her brother gave me to her ah while back."

Unity's eyes bounce briefly in the direction of the massive brick-shaped holster under Motoko's shoulder. "That's Burya, 'e doesn't do much talkin' most days." True to the pistol's statement, the bulbous electro-magnetic accelerator revolver doesn't so much as twitch in response.

Clearing my nonexistent throat with a cough, I once again try to attain a certain dignified air. "My name is Militech Mk.31 HMG. Serial number MT-892633-M. My line was supposed to be installed on night city police Minotaurs, but my shipment was stolen by a local gang and sold off. Motoko rescued me from some scavs… but…you already… know that part…" I can't help but feel a little foolish for repeating what she'd already said.

The pistol chuckles lightly. "Well yeah, I saw her use ya against them scavs! She's ah bit smalla' than a minotaur, but she seemed to 'andle ya well enough."

"Hehe! Yeah! It hurt her to use me like that, but she did it anyway… She's way too good for me…"

A presence that feels like the biting cold of a winter breeze suddenly looms over the both of us. "Она ломает себя, чтобы владеть нашей силой, неуважение к ее выбору было бы оскорблением." She breaks herself to wield our power, disrespecting her choice would be an insult. A voice rumbles slowly in a language I can't understand. The Burya under Motoko's arm stares out at me with a cold gaze, shadows of something old and horrible dancing in the reflections of his eyes.

Only to immediately fade as his presence disappears, vanishing like it was never there.

"...Yah." Unity chirps, not sounding the least bit bothered, and still smacking her lips. "Tha's Burya… 'avn't got the faintest what 'e says… but 'e sounds cool." I get a feeling that the pistol shrugs.

"...yeah… cool…" I can't help the shiver that runs through me, and it has nothing to do with Motoko quickly and carefully putting me back together.

While me and Unity watch, too distracted by our owner's change in activity to consider talking to each other, Motoko lifts me from the table and brings me to her room, placing me atop a low dresser built into the wall. She spares me one last glance, Her eyes filling with such emotion that I can feel my locking lugs slipping out of place from the intensity.

And then the moment passes and Motoko walks off, unity throwing me the phantasmal equivalent of a wave as they go. "See ya sugar! I'll keep an eye on 'er, don't you worry." Unity's eyes tilt in amusement. "Maybe think about loosin' some 'a that weight, and you might be able ta get inta 'er pants like me~!"

What does she mean by that? And why did she say it that way?. "Unity, even if I were lighter, I'd never fit in a waistband holster. And your holster isn't in her waistband either, you're not even in her pants!"

Unity titters playfully. "Such a young kid… 'Ave a good sleep!"

Maybe humans aren't the only weird ones. Oh well, no use wasting time thinking about nonsense, I can already feel my thoughts getting sluggish as hibernation steadily kicks in. My voice comes out a little slurred, despite my attempts for it not to be. "Goodnight Unity, Goodnight Burya, g'night Momtoko…"

There's a short huff of sound from beyond the door frame, could have been laughter? But… dunno… gonna nap now.