I promise this story starts off with a bang, but before we explode anyone I should probably introduce a few people.

Selas is tall, about six feet, with silver hair.  She’s wearing black slacks with a white button down shirt.  Not the most fashionable person, but that’s what you’d expect from an armed federal agent who takes her job as seriously as she does.  With her is one Special Agent Warren Jordan, her partner.  He’s a little taller than her, with short brown hair.  He’s wearing a simple black suit and black shoes.  They are digging around a run-down apartment in the immigrant district.  Specifically the immigrant district in the city of Las Pisces, in the province of Sasturian, on the planet Vispera.  Not that you’re likely to know where that is, but don’t worry, I’ll fill you in on any important details as we go along.  For now, let’s see what our two heroes are up to.

“Can you believe this sshit,” Selas says, as she rummages through a drawer full of dirty looking knickknacks.  Warren’s eyes briefly dart to Selas when she slurs a word.  “Here we are, digging through yet another godless pit, chasing after some petty thief because she might, maybe, have some minor tangential connection to some smugglers, who themselves could be connected to the Empire.”

“So, basically what you’re saying is, you think we’re on a wild goose chase,” Warren says.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to be trite.” Selas slams the drawer shut.  “Seriously though, there’s nothing here, I’m not convinced this chick ever…” Selas cants her ears to the side as she trails off.  “Do you hear something?”

Bang.

See, I told you there would be explosions.

Everything happens in a flash, but it’s clear Selas does most of the heavy lifting (literally), getting herself and Warren to safety.  By the time things settle down they are in front of the crumbled husk of the apartment, covered in soot.  Warren is laying on the ground, his left arm bent in the wrong place, and blood has started to soak through his coat.  Selas is crouched over him, dirty but otherwise unharmed, protecting her partner from further harm as she calls for reinforcements. 

I’ll have to interrupt myself here though, as I have a bit of a confession: I lied, this story doesn’t actually begin with a bang.  Technically, it only starts shortly after an unrelated explosion.   In fact, nothing that happened here has much bearing on what’s to come.  The fire was caused by someone making  low cost “pharmaceuticals” at home, who screwed up the ratio of hydrochloric acid in their formula.  I just didn’t want to waste a perfectly good explosion over a question of relevance, so I included it anyway.

“Come on!” a young man says. He looks to be in his late twenties.  Across from him is man with silver hair.  “You promised to tell me your story, what do those two have to do with anything?”

“This is my story,” the silver haired man replies.  “You didn’t say it had to be about me.”

“You are the absolute worst, Helios,” the young man says, crossing his arms and leaning back from the high top table they’re sitting at.  “And given I just moved here, I’m pretty sure I know where Vispera is.” He rolls his eyes.

“Aw, I’m sorry Leo,” Helios says, scooting his chair closer and playfully nudging Leo in the elbow.  “This is a story I’ve been working on as a submission to Los Ciervos, but I promise it’s related.  Just bear with me?”

Leo makes a show of exhaling.  “Fine, but no more red herrings.”

“No promises,” Helios says.  He touches a small device sitting on the table beside some half empty drinks, and it begins to glow, ethereal figures floating in the air above it.  They coalesce into distinct images.

The real story starts the next day, though we will be following the same characters.  After recovering from yesterday’s events, they are dispatched to Lezo de Olavarrieta University, or LOU for short, to investigate the mysterious destruction of one of their labs.  Selas looks the same as she did yesterday, well, the same as from before the explosion.  Warren, however, is sporting a sling for his left arm.  They are standing outside yet another burned down building, though this time they had the good fortune of not being inside while it happened.  A team of men and women in red overcoats are mucking around the wreckage, collecting evidence to determine the cause of the blaze.

“You really think this fire is connected to anything important?” Selas asks, her gaze wandering to Warren’s left arm.

“Probably not,” Warren sighs. “But you know how the Adjutant can be.”

“Yeah, anything even remotely related to one of his little projects,” she shakes her head.  The Adjutant is their direct superior, and the assistant for the military governor of the Sasturian Province.  “Are you certain you don’t want to take some time off?  I could get another handler to look after me a few days.”

“That didn’t work out so well last time,” Warren says.  Selas looks down and away.  Warren starts to speak, but stops and turns away suddenly.  “Forget about it, I can tough this out.  Let’s focus on the mission.”

“Right.  So, what were they working on in here anyway?”

“Some sort of electrically reactive material.  I think they were trying to make a new type of artificial muscle.”

“Think that’s what started the fire?” Selas asks.

“It’s possible, I suppose,” a voice besides Warren responds.  The two turn to see a handsome man with black hair.  He’s wearing a white lab coat over brown slacks and a checkered blue shirt.  “You two must be from the Inquisition.  I’m Doctor Salazar, with the Nanotechnology Materials Lab.”  He extends his hand.  Warren shakes it and introduces himself and Selas.  The Inquisition is a federal organization on Vispera, responsible for policing enhanced human and robotics related crime, as well as rooting out foreign agents.

“You mean the Inquisition we both work for,” Leo says.  The holographic recording pauses.

“No interruptions!” Helios makes a show of frowning and slamming his hands on his hips, which gets a chuckle from Leo.

“You’re so cute when you pout,” Leo says.

“It’s a dangerous game to tease me,” Helios says, drumming his fingers with an evil smile.  In response Leo pokes him on the nose.  Helios continues, “Anyway, Los Ciervos is an interstellar journal, so I have to account for people who aren’t from here.”

“Alright, carry on then.”

“Good, now where were we?”  Motion returns to the floating scene. Warren and Salazar are still facing each other.

“You said your research might have caused the fire,” Warren says.

“Well, the material we were working on was meant to handle large amounts of energy,” Salazar shrugs.  “I thought we took enough precautions, but…” He motions to the burnt rubble.

“Could someone have set the fire?”

“I can’t imagine why, this research wasn’t exactly cutting-edge,” Salazar casts a quick glance at Selas and frowns.  “Just let the fire department handle this.”

You might have noticed something odd about Selas by now, or perhaps you’re starting to think there’s something special about her.  Well, you’d be right if you did.  Selas is a type of artificial humanoid called a Sentinel, made from machines and synthetic biology, a triumph of science and engineering.  I could go into more detail, but it would only distract from my story so just trust me when I say it’s very impressive.  Her kind was designed to handle threats too dangerous for regular humans.  Anyway, let’s get back to our heroes, they’ve been talking with Salazar for a while, but you haven’t missed anything, I promise.

“If you insist, you can talk to Doctor Nuria,” Salazar says.  “She’s the lab director, but I doubt she’ll be very helpful.  She’s kind of, uh….” He trails off while making a looping motion with his hand.

“We’ll go ahead and do that,” Warren says.  “Stick around in case we have more questions.”

The two leave Salazar in the company of the fire investigators while they set off towards the director’s office.  The campus is beautifully decorated, not that either of them appreciate it, with a mixture of vegetation from around the planet, and even other systems.  The plants are arranged in scenic clumps, each a microcosm of some exotic ecology.  Warren and Selas arrive at a plain building, mostly metal and glass in basic geometric shapes, that has an elegant simplicity about it.  It is the main building for the LOU School of Engineering and Technology, and thus the home of the departmental offices.

Now, before we go on, this next bit is going to challenge your credulity, but I promise I’m not just throwing this part in to speed things along.  Anyway, with the disclaimer out of the way, let’s rejoin our characters as they step out the elevator onto the fifth floor.

Bam.  Ninjas.  Everywhere.

Back at the bar, Leo gives Helios a side eyed glance, but remains silent.

Okay, not technically ninjas (The Japanese never settled on this planet), but there are a bunch of soldiers wearing black combat armor, with high tech masks covering their faces and wielding what appear to be swords.  A couple of them menace a pretty, if somewhat disheveled woman, most likely Dr. Nuria, who is ignoring the danger and screaming profanities at some unseen person beyond the door to her office.

“What the helll,” Selas says.

“Selas, release combat restriction to level two,” Warren says as he backs into the elevator.

“Confirmed.”

An array of copper filaments spring from her back, carried in gossamer sheets that unfurl like wings from hidden slots in her shirt.  The air rapidly chills as liquid nitrogen pumps through her body, carrying heat away from her processors as they leave the low-energy superconducting state that normally runs her intelligence.  Her clothes constrict into a skintight suit as scalelike electric thrusters shimmer to life all over her body, useful for maneuvering at high speeds.

“Protect Doctor Nuria, suppress the intruders, minimize collateral damage,” Warren says.  “And I want at least one of them for questioning.”

“Confirmed.”

Selas shoots towards the closest soldier, ducking under his readied blade and launching him upwards with a heel kick as she passes.  The crunch of his shattering bones echoes across the hall.  She twists her body around a slash from another soldier, then coils herself feet first on their side, aiming towards the pair who were threatening Nuria.  She springs off this soldier, sending them spinning like a pinwheel before landing face first into the ground with a squelch.

As she passes between the two guarding the director, she grabs one, wraps herself all the way around until her feet are touching the ground, and then flings them underhanded into the other, smashing them both into the wall.  She finishes in a defensive position, standing between the doctor and a pair of soldiers who just rushed out the office.  One of them is unlike the others, his head and arms visible, a cyborg.  He has metallic claws on his fingers, and his eyes are uniformly silver.  Instead of hair, his head is covered in iridescent black markings, tracing some complex pattern.

He and Selas spend a split second evaluating each other, both with a mechanical mind calculating the most efficient way of neutralizing their opponent.  The silver-eyed cyborg makes the first move, rushing in low, ahead of his partner, swiping towards Selas’s legs while his partner slashes diagonally above him.  Selas flips her legs out of the way, catching the wall, where she jumps on top of the other soldier.  She rolls him overhead, and disables him with a quick chop to the face.

This leaves only her and the cyborg still in the fight, and he doesn’t waste a beat pressing the offense.  Selas turns almost in time to dodge.  His claws tear through her synthetic flesh, leaving four gashes across her flank and over her breast.  A black liquid oozes out, the dense transport medium for her pseudo-organic parts.  She doesn’t even flinch, and steps in, blocking a sideways blow with one hand, then shoves the cyborg back and up with the other.  While he is still in midair she leaps forwards and delivers a knifelike jab to his sternum.  Her hand punches through his ribcage, and she rips out a mechanical device with sparking wires splayed in all directions.

The cyborg collapses in a heap.  Selas examines the blood encrusted machine for a moment before tossing it to the floor.  It’s a cybernetic device that links with similarly enhanced body parts to control them at much greater speeds than a human brain can.  It’s a high-end model, but no amount of cybernetics can compare to  the combat optimized body of a Sentinel.

“Reengage combat restriction to level four,” Warren says.

“Confirmed.” 

A jet of white mist escapes from around her wings as they retract, a mixture of condensation from her cooling system and evaporated nitrogen.  Her thrusters fade into her skin, though the scales are easy to see after you know about them.

“Allow me to reiterate,” Selas says. “What the hhell.”

“They were after part of my research,” Nuria replies, extending a hand to Warren, who joined Selas in standing over the defeated ninja.  “I’m Doctor Nuria, I run the Nanotech Materials Lab.”

“I know,” says Warren as he shakes her offered hand.  “We came here to ask you a few questions about your research.”

“Isn’t everyone,” Nuria says with a shrug.  She turns to study Selas as the Sentinel wipes the cyborg’s blood off her hand with a torn scrap of cloth.  “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of the Inquisition’s Sentinels.  I hope this isn’t a sign of trouble around here, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Now, I know I’m supposed to be your omnipresent narrator, but even I don’t know what’s going on in Nuria’s head, so Warren will have to be excused a few seconds of bewildered staring.  He is interrupted by Nuria staring back, tapping her foot.

“Well?” she says.  “You just gonna sit there and admire the view, or you gonna ask me those questions?”

“Oh, right,” Warren coughs.  “Do you know who these soldiers are with?”  He motions towards the people strewn about.

“No, but there was another one in my office, maybe you could ask them?”

Warren yells something approaching a sentence as he rushes into the office, with Selas so close behind she almost gets there before him.  The office appears empty, and an open window suggests these appearances aren’t deceiving.  A quick search confirms the intruder escaped.  Nuria is tidying up her desk when Selas and Warren finish.

“Dammit,” Warren sighs.  “That was probably the one in charge.  How the hell are we going to figure out what they were after?”

“Design documentation for the neural fiber operating system,” Nuria says as she thumbs through some loose papers.

“I thought you said you didn’t know who they were.”

“I don’t.”

“Never mind,” Warren sighs.  “What do you mean by design whatever?”

Nuria doesn’t even look up.  “It’s the blueprint for the neural fiber’s control software, neural fiber being the material we were working on.”  She moves from the papers to her computer.  Warren steps in to ask for more detail, but Nuria interrupts him.  “It’s similar to the synthetic muscles in your friend over there, though they have a much greater angle of flexibility.”

“And why would they want these blueprints?” Warren asks.

“No idea.  If they had access to a batch of working fibers they could decompile the source code from them, and if they don’t then the software is too specialized to be useful anywhere else.  Hell, my only use for it is debugging or trying out new features, it pretty much has no commercial or military value.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Maybe someone’s trying to get a leg up on their own research,” Warren says.  “A rival lab or something.”

“Don’t see why, this project is publicly funded.  When I’m finished I’ll be publishing everything.”

“Could it be sabotage?”

“I’ve got backups out the ass.”

“Well,” Warren lets the word hang for a second.  “Fuck.”

“Sure, why not,” Nuria says.  “I won’t be able to get much done until the dean gets me a new lab anyway.”

It takes Warren a few befuddled seconds to realize he’s just been propositioned.  “Oh! Uh, sorry, I can’t.  I’ve got work and, uh,” he motions to the soldiers laid up outside.  “Stuff.”

“Your loss,” Nuria shrugs and returns her focus to the computer.

With nothing else to ask the doctor, Warren ushers himself and Selas out into the hallway.  They still need to properly restrain the attackers.

“They say the hot ones are always the craziest,” Warren says as he nods towards the office, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Okay,” Selas replies.  She zip ties another soldier’s arms together.

“Right, of course,” Warren sighs.  “Never mind.”

The story slows down from here.  Selas calls in a search for the fleeing captain, but he’s no where to be found.  Some public safety officers arrive, collect the ninjas, ferry them to the nearest Inquisition branch office.  Only two of them died, and surprisingly not the one who had something ripped out of his chest.  That’s not to say the rest didn’t suffer major injuries.  You also might find it interesting that three of the soldiers were women.  It seems normal to me, but I suppose it depends on what planet you’re from.

Things pick up a little with the interrogation, but it doesn’t go anywhere, just a lot of yelling and menacing glares, so we’ll ignore it.  The break in the case actually comes from the augmentation Selas ripped out.  The people who bought it tried to hide the purchase, using an elaborate scheme to knock it off the grid.  I won’t go into much detail except to say they were thwarted by machinations of the unyielding bureaucracy.  Anyway, a few days later some Public Safety peon traced the part to a warehouse in the immigrant district, not far from the apartment that burned down before the start of this story.  The Adjutant is still convinced foreign agents are involved, so he dispatches Selas and Warren to investigate.

They drive to the address in one of the plain white cars that belong to the Inquisition.  They are wearing their usual style of clothes, though the absence of gashes in Selas’s shirt suggest this is probably a fresh set.  Warren is no longer wearing a sling, though he’s resting one of his hands inside his coat.

“Didn’t we just leave this dump?” Selas asks as she and Warren step out of their car in front of a dingy-looking warehouse.  Warren sighs.  “I’m serious, I can still detect the smoke from the apartment that burned down.”

“That’s because you have a freaky robot nose,” Warren says.  “You can probably smell what I had for breakfast yesterday.”  This is true.

“All I’m saying is I’m ffucking tired of these goddammned errands.”

Warren studies his partner.  Her eyes are fixed on him, looking him up and down. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Selas, relay your neural self-diagnostic report.”

Selas stands still for a moment, her breath held as she looks away from Warren.  Eventually, haltingly, she says, “Language core operating at seventy one percent, Cognitive core operating at seventy nine percent, Identity core operating at forty five percent, Sentinel core operating at ninety nine percent.  See, I’m fine.”

“Fine?  You told me you stabilized at eighty, and you’ve dropped all the way down to forty five.”

“I lied, alright.  It was terminal damage.  Doesn’t matter anyway, the only part that matters is still working.”

“This is ridiculous, you shouldn’t be chasing after criminal cyborgs, you should be-”

“I told you, the damage is irreparable. I’m a guard dog in a few months.  I know it’s probably just the Sentinel talking, but I want to spend the rest of my life keeping you safe, it’s the least I can do.”

Allow me a moment to explain what Selas means here.  The Sentinel core is a part of her consciousness, and it could be described as her protective spirit.  Making artificial lifeforms highly protective of both humanity and specific humans is used as a safety and control mechanism, though it tends to cause an uneconomical tendency towards self sacrifice, which is what the handlers are for.  Anyway, let’s get back to our heroes, they’ve been sharing a quiet moment where Warren gets to feel guilty about his dying partner.  Let’s interrupt them.

“Oh god! It’s out of control!” Salazar yells as he bursts through the front door of the warehouse.  He runs past Selas and Warren, barely sparing them a glance.

“Wait, isn’t that Nuria’s assistant.”  Warren says.

“What the helll is he doing here?” Selas asks.  Before Warren can respond a crash erupts from the warehouse.  They turn to see a strange black cloud pouring from a hole above the door.  If we take a moment to watch through Selas’s eyes, we can see that it is actually millions of individual black strands, slithering through the air with frantic coordination.  They soar above her head and descend upon Salazar.  He screams as they burrow inside his flesh, then silence.  Salazar looks up with blackened eyes while the remaining fibers wiggle into his skin.

If we were to glance inside this new creature’s alien mind and translate its machine thoughts they would look something like this: Objective branch ‘acquire host’ complete, returning to root objective.  Returned to branch objective ‘Eliminate hostile Sentinel’, initiate combat module.  Outside its electric brain those thoughts translate into a moment’s pause followed by a rapid lunge towards Selas.  She dodges out of the way as Salazar knocks a car aside with his fist.  The flesh ruptures to reveal a layer of tightly wound black fibers beneath.

“Selas, release combat restriction to level three,” Warren says.

“Confirmed.  Wait, what are—”

“Stay back and conserve heat.  Let me handle this,” Warren says as he draws a weapon from his jacket.  It resembles a pistol, though it looks far too large to be brandished about as nimbly as it is.  It links up with an electronic contact lens in Warren’s eye that displays a wealth of information about the weapon and allows him to designate a desired target.

“You can’t be—” Warren cuts her short with a glare.  “Confirmed.”

Selas leaps out of the way, tiny fins from her cooling system are poking out the back of her shirt.  Salazar starts to follow after her, but is interrupted by a beam of light that rips through his torso.  There is an explosion, and bits of flesh and black fiber scatter as Salazar is flung back.  He doesn’t slow for even a moment and lands on his feet with a roll, his gaze fixed on Warren.  His thought now: Branch objective generated ‘Eliminate newly detected hostile’.

Salazar launches himself at Warren, barely rolling out of the way of another beam.  Warren manages to dodge, using a set of electric thrusters built into his shoes to give him added agility.  His weapon stays fixed on Salazar, covered in a network of shimmering scales, each a computer controlled jet that keeps his aim fixed on target.  He fires again, before he even hits the ground, and this time manages to clip Salazar’s forearm.  An explosion rips the limb apart, though it takes barely a second for it to be reconstructed good as new, save for a black sheen.

Salazar tumbles a little to avoid the brunt of the explosion, but is back in the air before Warren settles to his feet.  He fires again, but a split second before the radiant lance lands dead center on Salazar, the black threads abandon their host.  His body is annihilated in a flash of light and a cloud of gore.  Warren tries to leap out of the way of the oncoming swarm, but it’s too fast, and his weapon is useless as the target finder struggles to identify the black cloud as something worth shooting at.

A tendril of black fibers reach the pistol in advance of the seething mass, and they quickly tear it apart as they envelop Warren’s arm.  Warren cries in pain as the fibers begin to burrow inside, but before they get past the wrist his forearm shatters and the infested end goes flying.  A winged form stands between the cloud and Warren, a dazzling light shines from its body.

To best understand what happened please join me about a second ago, inside the mind of Selas.  I’ll translate her machine thoughts for you.  Mortal danger to Sentinel handler ‘Warren Jordan’ detected.  Current directive bars intervention.  Identity core override confirmed.  Initiating full combat restriction release.  Warning: core self-diagnostics indicate insufficient redundancies to ensure continued core operation.  Identity core override confirmed.  Deploying heat management system at full capacity.  Setting Sentinel core speed to one hundred percent—  Complete.  Increasing reactor output to one hundred percent—  Complete.  Activating all thrusters at maximum output.  All weapons systems online.  Warning: heat accumulation exceeds safe margins- damage to core systems likely.  Identity core override confirmed.

Selas closes the distance in a little under a second, and before the sonic boom catches up she flies directly into the swarm of black fibers, spinning her body to tangle them in her wings.  The tendrils start to burrow into her skin, but she ignores them as she flies higher and higher.  She turns to face Warren as she soars into the sky.

Warning: failure to release weapon charge will result in catastrophic failure.  I’m sorry, Warren.  Warning: thruster power input exceeds safe levels.  I was never able to forgive myself for your daughter.  Warning: reactor output is beyond all safe margins- critical failure imminent. Good bye.

…

“What?  That’s it?” Leo says.  “You can’t really tell me that’s the ending.”

“Well,” Helios drags the word out.  “It’s kind of related to another story.  One that happened about six months prior to this one.  You wanna hear it?”

“I have to now, don’t I, but why tell them out of order?”

Helios says nothing, a heaviness filling the silence between them.  He eventually says, “It’s… personal.”

Leo reaches across the table to rest a hand on Helios’s arm.  “Just go ahead.”

“Alright, I’ll try to keep this short,” Helios says.  “Conveniently, this is also the story of how Selas damaged her core, so we’ll get a lot of mileage out of it.”

Helios again touches the small holographic device between them, giving it a few seconds to warm up before continuing.

…

“Greetings, Special Agent Jordan,” Selas says with a friendly smile.  She has her hand extended towards a young woman with long brown hair, tied back in a bun.

“Please, nothing so formal,” the woman replies as she takes Selas’s hand.  “Just call me Eva.”

“Very well, Eva.  I’m looking forward to working with you.  Hopefully you can join my rotation of handlers,” Selas says.  “Warren really needs to take some time off.”

“Yeah, that’s my dad for you,” Eva smiles, a glimmer of pride in her eyes.  “Honestly though, I think he just has a thing for you.”  She giggles.

“Yes, we’ve recently been having problems with primary handlers trying to fuck the Sentinels.”  Selas pauses for a moment, before adding with a grin, “And the women are even worse than the men.”  She winks at Eva.

“I-I was kidding,” Eva blusters.  Selas laughs.

“I know,” Selas gives Eva a gentle poke.  “You should be careful trying to tease us though, we can get very feisty.”

“Duly noted,” Eva says as she tries to fight down the crimson stain from her cheeks.  “What are we doing here anyway?”

“We’ve received reports from Vigo Nuevo Public Safety that someone’s been using old industrial robots to steal from local factories, and they believe the stolen goods passed through here.”

“You mean through this boring old office building?” Eva waves her hand at the squat grey structure before them.  The yellow glow of the street lamps make it look more dilapidated than it really is.

“Well, it’s not the best lead, but this is your first real mission, so it’s best to start with something safe.  In this case, simple reconnaissance on a boring old office building.”

“Damn, I was hoping I’d finally get to use this baby for real.”  Eva pulls an oversized handgun from her coat.  A network of scales shimmer to life on its surface.

“Easy, little tiger,” Selas says, pushing Eva’s weapon down towards the ground.  “Let me do all the heavy lifting, alright?  Your job is just to lower my combat restrictions and give me something to focus on while I do my thing.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.  I forgot you Sentinels are almost as bad of workaholics as my dad.  He never lets me have any fun either.  No wonder he likes you so much.”

“If you’re looking for adventure I think you picked the wrong line of work.” Selas gently elbows Eva.  “Sentinels are only going to get more involved in law enforcement, you know.”

“Hah, maybe I should of taken up piracy after all.”  Eva sticks her tongue out at Selas.  “I bet no one makes a space pirate sit back while they do all the work.  What if I want to ease your load a little too?”

“Keep it up and I might have to restrain you,” Selas says as she presses her body against Eva’s.  Eva blushes furiously and Selas adds, “I warned you about teasing me.”

“A-anyway,” Eva coughs as she pushes Selas away, while her hand lingers a moment.  “Recon.  Office.  Boredom.”

“Alright, follow me then.”  Selas leads Eva into the building, bypassing an electronic lock with hardware built into her wrist bone.  Eva stays tight on her heels, trying to keep her eyes up and off Selas’s hips.  In spite of her playfulness, Selas moves with machine precision as she works.  They clear a few offices, finding little more than dust and aging computers.

“H-hey, Selas,” Eva stutters as they walk down the hall to another room.  Selas stops and looks back with a bit of a sly grin.

“Yes precious?”

“I, uh, I’m given to understand Sentinels have genuine personalities.”

Selas gasps. “You mean I was a real girl all along!”  Eva blushes as Selas giggles.

“I mean, it’s just- well, are you actually flirting with me, and…”

“And are we actually having problems with Sentinels and handlers sleeping with each other?”  Selas says.  The darkening crimson on Eva’s cheek answers the question.  “Well, no, we aren’t having problems with it, certainly.”

“O-oh, I see…”

“You know, we’re a bit busy, so this probably isn’t the best time for this, but the lab is pretty insistent we form relationships with humans, so what do you say when we’re done here we explore something a little more fun than this dusty old office?”

“Okay,” Eva says after a short pause.

“Let’s move on then,” Selas says as she leads them into yet another empty room.  While Selas is rummaging through an old desk, a mechanical arm smashes through the wall and clamps on to Eva’s chest.  Before it can start to squeeze, Selas punches her hand through its metal skin and rips out a motor.  Eva lurches back, coughing and holding her sides.

“Are you all right?” Selas calls back to her as she faces off against the mangled arm.  Before Eva can reply, more arms smash through the wall, tearing it down and revealing the machines on the other side.  Three heavy walkers stand there, painted yellow, with two arms apiece.  Each arm is equipped with different tools, including one with an industrial strength laser.  Rather than fight them off, Selas grabs Eva and retreats out and down the hallway.  The walkers chase after her, smashing through the walls and lumbering after her.  Selas is stopped by the ring of a woman’s maniacal laughter.  It’s coming from behind the hostile robots.

“Yes, my pets!” the woman yells.  “Crush these Inquisition dogs.”  She continues laughing as she runs down the hallway and up a stairway on the far end.

“Shit, she’s getting away,” Eva says.  “Go after her!”

“Negative.  It’d be too dangerous to leave you here,” Selas says.  “Your sidearm isn’t designed for heavy equipment like that.  We’ll have to retreat.”

“To hell with that,” Eva spits.  “Fine, you handle the mechs, I’ll go after the puppeteer.  Selas, release combat restriction to level two.”

“Confirmed.”

“Destroy these robots.  I’ll head up these stairs and take care of her.”

“Confirmed.”  Selas places Eva on the ground behind her and launches herself at the nearest walker.  She hears Eva shoot the lock out on the stairwell door, and her rasping breath as she clambers up to the second floor.  After that the walker’s rumblings drown out any further sound.

I’d go into detail on Selas’s battle with the machines, it’s a pretty cool fight after all, but you’ve already seen what she can do, and we’re here to learn about Eva.  Suffice to say, the electrical brains of the walkers prove far more capable of keeping up with her than some goons in suits, and they are able to keep her busy a few minutes.  She takes out the one with a broken arm first, and she damages an arm on the one with a Laser, but only the mechanical claw.  Before she can finish it off, she is interrupted by a scream.

Distress vocalization from handler ‘Eva Jordan’ detected.  Probability of mortal danger to handler: 0.49.  Danger probability below Sentinel override threshold.  Current directive bars intervention.  Identity core confirms. Warning: weapon systems locked in combat restriction level two.  Dammit Eva, this would be a lot easier if you’d released me to level one. Resume combat sequence.

Selas barely misses a beat to process Eva’s scream, though it’s enough to buy her target time to pull the laser out of the way as the other mech moves to cover it.  Before Selas can adjust her tactic she hears the electric thrum of Eva’s side arm as it fires.  Once.  Twice.  Three times.

Eva, what did you get yourself into up there.  Identity core manual adjustment of handler danger confirmed.  Probability of mortal danger to handler: 0.79.  Danger probability exceeds Sentinel override threshold.  Current directive bars intervention.  Identity core override confirmed.  Initiating full combat restriction release.  Warning: coolant reserves at 65%— only 2.6 seconds of safe operation available.  That’ll just have to be enough.  Beginning Plasma Burst cannon charge sequence.

Selas smashes through the ceiling, tearing up one of her arms and splattering black blood over her silver hair.  She clears the dust in time to see the mechanical hands of a smaller humanoid robot crushing Eva’s throat.  Blood is streaming down her neck as metal fingers dig in.  Standing over them is the laughing woman from earlier.  The woman has barely enough time to focus her eyes on Selas before a lance of blue light arcs down the hall from a port in her hand.  It strikes the woman square in the chest and she explodes into a cloud of blood.  The smaller machine looks up and drops Eva’s lifeless body as it rises to its feet.  Selas stands perfectly still as it leaps down the hallway at her.

Warning: coolant reserves depleted— reengage combat restrictions. Fuck you.

As the humanoid machine reaches arms length, Selas lashes out at lightning speed.  Shredded metal explodes down the hall.  Suddenly Selas feels the flesh on her back rip apart as the mech downstairs hits her with a laser.  The thermal casing on her processors absorbs most of the damage.

Warning: core temperature exceeds all safe margins— begin emergency core shutdown.  Identity core override confirmed.

Selas jumps down the hole, punching her arm through the top of the laser walker before releasing a charged shot straight to its heart.  It’s ripped apart in a ball of blue plasma.  Selas levels her arm with the final mech, her flesh sizzles from the heat of the weapon buried within.  She fires another shot, a beam of blue light pierces her target, which explodes into molten steel.

Reengage combat restriction to level four.  Warning: fatal degenerative error to identity core detected— begin emergency core shut down.

Selas collapses to the ground in a heap.  Her gossamer wings remain out, struggling to carry the deadly heat from her body.

There, now you have it, the story of a Sentinel’s failure.  The story of a Sentinel’s guilt.  Every mystery is solved.

…

Leo gives Helios a few minutes scrutiny.

“You promised this story had something to do with you,” Leo says.

“I did?”

Leo grabs one of Helios’s hand with both of his.

“Alright, fine,” Helios says.  “I was hoping you’d forget, but I, uh, kind of lied, again, when I implied the story wasn’t about me.”

“What?”

“Sorry.  It’s a little complicated.  You could say I’m Selas, sort of, or maybe sometimes I just think I am.  It’s confusing.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our cores,” Helios murmurs.  “Our cores are very resilient, and after Selas self-destructed the lab was able to retrieve her core and extract most of her memories.”

“What? You don’t mean—“

“Yeah,” Helios sighs.  “I do.  So, who does that make me?”