Edom R. awoke, feeling like death.

The company physician glanced up from her digital clipboard when he groaned, then shook her head in mild surprise and made a notation. "Made it back again, R? I'm telling you, Imptuus just doesn't make 'em like you anymore."

"How long was I dead?" Edom asked faintly, his voice scratching through the technological magic that had replaced most of his throat. His left eye hadn't rebooted yet; he blinked, trying to clear the haze in the right, but he still had trouble seeing the physician as she came over to check his vitals.

"A week. Your return order was just about to get reviewed for approval, but I've been stalling on sending it in. I keep telling 'em, there's something special about the Ocearius units. You aren't gonna die properly until the world ends."

She flipped a switch, and immediately Edom began to feel better. A good half of his body had been turned into metal and wires, and he never quite felt himself without electricity buzzing through his brain. Or, what was left of it.

Half metal, half dead. There really wasn't much left to keep his old brain going.

The world cleared as his artificial eye came back online and he sat up, blinking several times to clear out the last glitches. He was in a very familiar tent filled with beds and medical apparatus - a cybers' mobile-camp infirmary. There were only a few other cybers in the tent, all as dead as a corpse could be. A couple of C-Techs were working on one, carefully replacing a broken fleshy limb with the metal replacement the unit would need to continue fighting.

All three dead units, from the red identification codes flashing on their arms, were from Ariers Core. Statistically speaking, one of them would never come back from this death.

"Alright, looks like you're all good to go," said his physician brightly, making another note on her board. "Everything seems to be working at a hundred again, but stay in camp for a day in case of delayed shutdown. I've sent a note to the commander saying you should be back on the roster tomorrow, so just hang around camp in the meantime and do whatever it is you things do."

Edom nodded, standing up. His legs were still a little wobbly, but that would sort itself out soon enough. The physician turned off the equipment that had been monitoring him, then moved on to check on her next patient.

He knew where his uniform was without even looking: lower shelf of the cart unit, cleaned and repaired. These places were run the same everywhere. He suited up, the magni-fiber armor completing, in his own mind, the return from death to life. The Ocearius black-and-teal battle uniform was as much a part of his existence now as...

Edom's attempted analogy fizzled as something cut the thought short. He sighed, pulling on a boot. Sorry, boss.

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He always felt guilty when he accidentally got close to an "old life" thought. He wasn't even supposed to acknowledge such a thing had ever existed - it made the Human-First Movement nervous, and that made the bosses nervous.

He walked to the tent flap, a little slowly since everything was still stiff from being dead, and stepped out into the camp.

A familiar trill was his only warning before a knee-high Excireraptor charged him from beneath a parked jeep. The tiny dinosaur pounced onto his chest, razor claws gripping the edges of his armor, then began rubbing its angular little head against his chin as it trilled and chirped in a non-stop flurry.

"Hey, German," Edom replied happily, gathering the raptor up in his arms before giving it a little scratch under the chin. "Did I scare you?"

German trilled again, almost a purr, and butted Edom's hand with his nose. What this meant, Edom had no idea, but he gave his companion one more pat before setting him back down. German prowled around Edom's ankles protectively the entire way back to his Core barracks.

There weren't many of the original Ocearius Core left, and replacements weren't coming. Their temp-camp barracks, therefore, were quieter then most. The only other one Edom saw outside was Gile S., whittling on the steps.

Oh, good. She's still alive. He grinned, waving at her when she raised her head and noticed him.

"Edom R.," she said sternly, rising from her seat. "We all thought you were dead for good this time. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Edom just gave her a puppy-dog look, holding out his arms hopefully. She crossed her arms, her electronic purple eyes narrowing.

"No hug. I've been sitting here alone for a week while you were recovering. You owe me a drink - at least a drink - before you get any hugs out of me."

"But I've been wounded and dead," Edom insisted. "That's not my fault, is it?"

"Nonetheless, take me to get a drink when we hit home-base again," Gile said stubbornly. "Until then, let's keep things professional. I'm assuming you're off duty tonight?"

"The physician was worried about something shutting down again, so I'm out for twenty-four hours. You?"

"We're joining forces with Ariers Core - Dagger Unit to raid Witherling Fort at dawn. The commander wants to take it before the rebels realize how dead they are and sell it back out to the Alliance for favors. Do you mind if I borrow German for the raid, since you won't be coming?"

Edom rubbed his familiar's head, ruffling the fake dinosaur's blue-green crest feathers. "I suppose, though I'll worry. But you like fighting alongside Gile, don't you, German?"

The raptor hissed, distracted, then streaked off after a bird he had spotted.

"It should be an easy assignment," Gile said, sitting back down and picking up her whittling again. "The fort hasn't been theirs' for long, and the garrison hasn't received any reinforcements."

"Don't jinx it." Edom tapped his foot three times on the ground to ward off evil luck, and Gile rolled her eyes at him.

"Luck doesn't pay any attention to us, remember?"

"So say the dragons, but have they ever been undead?" asked Edom pointedly.

"It's superstition, E. Nothing more then silly superstition. How can tapping your foot a certain number of times effect anything at all?"

"Magic."

Gile sighed in frustration. "That's your answer for everything you can't explain," she grumbled, and Edom smiled broadly.

"Yep."

"Go jump in a lake."

German returned, a dead bird in his mouth. He laid it at his master's feet and began preening proudly.