Doctor Preon ran her hand over the unconscious Pyralis’ head yet again. A group of trainees had brought her in, found her unconscious in the training room again. She made a mental note to ask somebody to check that area every night, just to make sure she wasn’t passed out on the floor all night.

Should she tell her? That there was some chance that Elara could be alive? Preon didn’t want to get her hopes up, just to crush them all over again. Odds were that another blow would break her, if she didn’t break herself.

Pyralis began to stir, mumbling as she rubbed her head. No concussion, from the scans that Preon had run, probably just a headache. “G’mornin.”

“Good night, Pyr. The moo- It’s already dark out.” Preon caught herself as she spoke, trying not to stir any bad memories. “Would you at least send a message before you go off breaking yourself any further?” She turned her head to the groggy Pyr, now climbing off of the medical bed. Pyr nodded, letting out a small whine.

Preon put her hand back on Pyralis’ head, petting her. “At some point I think you knock yourself out around base just to come see me. I have other patients, you know.” Preon was exaggerating a little, missions had fallen to a low since the main attack, and most of her day had been spent tinkering with a replica pair of Elara’s arms. “Besides, you can just visit, you know. I enjoy the company sometimes, and you are my favorite patient.”

Pyralis pressed into the Doctor’s hand, letting out a little bark. “Yes Miss! I’ll come by to say hello if you wish~” She giggled, as Preon ruffled her hair. “I’m not sure if a doctor should be doing the job of a veterinarian though,” Pyr said coyly.

“I’ve seen more than enough of your insides to know just how you work, little thing. Not like you have a better option, unless you want Regent to dig around your insides instead?” Preon gave a little smile, knowing how little Pyr liked Regent. He was a fine doctor, but treated her like any other patient, human. Too soft sometimes, other times making her uncomfortable.

Pyr shrunk back at the suggestion, shaking her head no. “I was joking! Please, I want you to do it.” She whimpered, trying her best to look innocent.

Preon gave a smirk, before hugging the frightened dog. “I was making a joke too, pup. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you end up on my table any time you split yourself open.” She shushed the tense and whining Pyr in her arms. “I’ll put you together again, love.” Preon planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Have you tried talking to anybody else today, hm?” Preon continued holding Pyr tight against her chest. She could feel the pup breathing heavy against her shirt, squirming a little as she debated how to respond.

Pyralis let out a little squeak, before giving her best attempt at shaking her head no. She looked up, seeing the disappointment on Preon’s face. “N. No, Miss. I tried, but I- I couldn’t do it. They all just… they keep trying to treat me like something I’m not.”

Preon squeezed her tighter, nodding. “You need to tell them, before you break, Pyr. They can’t be expected to read your little mind. You don’t have to be strong, just honest. Let yourself look weak in front of them.” She pulled back, taking a seat in her chair. “Sit, Pyr.”

Pyr hit the floor in an instant, kneeling in front of Preon. “Good girl,” Preon responded. Pyralis looked at Preon, staring down at her, before speaking, “I don’t know how, Miss. I don’t know how to make them understand. Ellie did, I never needed to say a word. Now she’s gone and everybody wants me to replace her, step out of her shadow. I can’t do that.” She leaned forward, resting her head on Preon’s lap. “I’m aimless, without command. I don’t know what to do without her here now. I don’t know what to want anymore.”

Preon put her hand back on the teary dog’s head, rubbing it a little. “I know, love. You don’t need to replace her, I don’t think anybody could. Elara was a figure we all looked up to, and everybodies worried about you, Pyr.” She let out a sigh, “I think telling you to move on was wrong. She’s still with us, Pyr. When you’re lost, look up at night, to the moon. Think what she would want you to be doing.” She felt a little bad, pretending that there wasn’t a chance in the world Elara could be alive, when she knew otherwise.

“I think she would want me to fight, but I don’t know if I can do that without her. I’m not strong enough. I took her seconds, and I followed her lead. I’m afraid I’ll fail. That I’ll disappoint her.” Pyralis gripped onto Doctor Preon’s leg, tears continuing to fall to the tiled floor.

“You won’t disappoint her, pup. She’d be proud no matter what. Pretend she’s still there, fighting by your side. Follow her command, fight to make yourself worthy of her pride.” Some part of Preon screamed at her, telling her that sending Pyralis back into the fray was the wrong decision. Elara had trusted her to keep Pyr safe after her passing, she had wanted her to live a full life. Seeking revenge, fighting an endless fight could hardly be considered that.

Morale was at an all time low on the base, though. Everybody was about to give up, another frontal attack would probably be the end of them. Somebody needed to make an example, push past the loss. Carry on Elara’s fight.

Pyralis sat still now, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

“Yes Miss.”

===

She was grinding on something, but Elara couldn’t see. Her body felt slow, pressing against the air like sludge. She remembered passing out. Elara was on her knees now, continuing to buck her hips against something between her legs.

Elara opened her eyes, seeing a leg in front of her. She looked up, seeing who she wa- Handler. Elara immediately stopped, backing up and bowing down.

“Did I tell you to stop, mutt? Here I was told you had been particularly well behaved, and deserved a reward.” Handler moved her boot forward, touching Elara’s forehead. It was still covered in her slick, the leather soaked by the sheer volume.

Elara felt shame flood her mind. “S-Sorry, Miss. I mean, sorry Handler!” She stammered out the words, beginning to move forward back onto the boot. Handler pulled it back, staring daggers into the apparently stupid dog.

“I also didn’t say to start again, you little miscreant. Evidently you don’t deserve this reward, if you think you can act without permission.” The boot flew forward, knocking into the bottom of Elara’s jaw. She felt her teeth slam together, making a clack noise.

She looked around, dazed by the kick. Elara saw that she was in the ‘interrogation’ room, and that Thalia was standing by the door. Hail shot her a grin, gesturing in the direction of a waiting Handler.

“Sorry Handler! I’m very sorry!” She resumed bowing down, trying to avoid any further punishment. Her jaw still throbbed from the kick, and she could feel the slightly warm liquid that had coated the boot. Elara began to whine, doing her best to behave.

Handler clicked her tongue again, the sound pressing against Elara’s psyche. “So poorly trained. Clean up your mess, mutt. Then you can consider resuming your little play session.”

Elara immediately began to lick the floors, wiping any residue off her face with her paws, and into her mouth. “Thank you, Handler!” She blurted out the gratitude between licks. There was a fairly large pool of liquid on the floor, Elara slowly lapping up portions of it. She tasted her own sweetness, as well as a flavor she recognized from her drug mixture in her daily food. Aphrodisiac? They must have modified her internal synthesizer’s settings.

“Hmph. This is hardly a punishment, if you’re still leaking all over yourself,” Handler continued. Elara knew she was right, she was enjoying the taste and the heat between her legs only grew. More fluid trickled down her leg as she drank from the floor. “Stop cleaning. Tell me about your parents, Elara.”

===

I didn’t want to. That memory of them wasn’t supposed to ever be breached again, I wasn’t worthy of it. Handler ordered it, though. I tried my best to resist, my face scrunching up and the sweet taste in my mouth turned sour. It felt a little bit like holding my breath, holding back the inevitable flow of words that would pour from my mouth.

“My mother, Sylla, worked almost all the time. I never saw her home for more than a day or two, before she went back out on assignments. I never did learn what those assignments in specific were, but as a kid I thought she was some kind of spy. Fighting against the rebels, keeping us safe at home.” I choked on the words, my body spasming as I fought against the tide.

“Now, I know that she was a pilot. On the other hand, my father, Artifice, I knew was a retired mech pilot. He was my idol, having fought on the front lines. He stayed home to take care of me, and was a large source of my sympathy for the Rebel cause. After his years of service, he told me that he regretted not getting to know his enemy a little better. His regret over killing so many rebels was the reason he retired. He supported my endeavors to support those displaced by the war. He’s one of the biggest reasons I met Pyralis. He supported me when I got my vaginal implant.” Tears continued to stream down my face, and I was barely holding my body up. It felt like moonlight was flowing through my veins, I was freezing.

I pushed forward. For Handler. “I left them behind when I joined the Rebel cause. My father asked me to stay, never wanting me to join the war. I told him that I couldn’t just sit back and watch anymore. My mother must have learned on one of her usual returns home. Every step I took with Pyralis felt right, I thought I was doing the right thing. Now, I regret not listening to my father more. I killed over three dozen pilots before I started counting. Discovering their names on that post-mission manifest was the worst day of my life. I was ruthless, thinking that I couldn’t win a fight without killing, thinking that this was what I had to do.” I couldn’t stop talking. Every muscle in my throat was tense as I tried to do anything to stop. Handler looked down at me in satisfaction, as I continued my rambling.

“My father had rejoined the war to take me down. He had seen what I was doing, he recognized my mech’s name from old drawings I had made as a kid. My mother fought alongside him, and they were overjoyed at seeing me that day. It was an accident, I usually spoke with my opponents before the fight, but they were running in a squadron. There wasn’t any time to think before the group opened fire, and I mowed them all down. My mother and father were amongst the first to fall. I remember how they fought, dancing with me, holding back. I thought they were stupid. They weren’t fighting for their lives that day, only now do I know that they were fighting for mine. My father didn’t fight to take me home, or change my mind, but to show me that I was making the same mistakes as him. They left a message for me, in their cockpits, you know.” I couldn’t say those words. They were left to me, nobody else. They weren’t for Handler. They were for Elara Callisto, the Commander. I didn’t deserve to recite them. “P-Please.” I could barely see Handler’s face through my tears. I needed to stop, I was shivering, wet and sticky from my cleaning.

Handler continued staring at me, her mouth contorting into the first smile I had ever seen on her face. “Speak, Elara.”

The memory of walking into the Salvage room flashed through my mind.

A ritual after their deaths, looking at what I had done. Seeing their bloody bodies, pictures of me taped up by their consoles. I could barely recognize myself. Unfurling the bloody paper on each of their bodies.

My father’s note first, then.

“Hello Rebel, if you are reading this, I ask one last thing. Please deliver this message to my daughter, Elara Callisto, pilot of the Moonrise. It is my final wish that she reads the words held inside.

Dearest Elara,

Apologies to communicate this way, but if you are reading this I have been killed. Don’t blame yourself for my death, I came out here to fight because I wanted to reach you. Talk to you one last time before I pass. I assume that never came to be.

I love you, Elara. Your mother loves you, and misses you. I understand why you left. You made the right choice, and I’m proud of you for doing what you believe in. However, I think you’re walking down the wrong path, little bird. Do you remember that day I told you why I stopped fighting? Every life you take with your own hands will weigh down on you, a stone tied to your legs until you cannot fly, until you cannot move. War is ruthless, but it does not mean you have to be. Remember that, my love.

Fight with passion, but know who you fight, know why you fight. If you must kill, pay your respect. Make sure their death is not in vain, and press forward.

With care,

Artifice Callisto.”

Sorry, Dad.

“Hello, Rebel. Please deliver this message to my daughter, Elara Callisto, should you find this message. She pilots the Moonrise, on the rebel side. Thank you.

Hello Ellie,

I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you left. I was out fighting, hoping to keep you safe. Your father held me back from defecting to search for you that instant, knowing you would be safe. We raised you well, I hope.

I love you, my little lark. Please take care, and listen to your father. He’s fought longer than I have, and I’ve learned much by fighting by his side. I will continue to fight for what I believe in, just as you do now. Do not waste your enemies’ sacrifice, my love. It is worth more than you could ever know.

Be brave, and should we meet, I hope you know I do not blame you for leaving. I know that love does many a thing to us, and that fighting to protect them will drive us to extremes.

With love,

Sylla Callisto.”

I collapsed to the floor, still spasming. Everything was so cold. I was so sorry. They believed in me. I slammed a spear through their cockpits with barely a second thought. How could I not blame myself? They had been trying to reach me, trying to stop me before I realized how far over the line I was.

“You can stop now, mutt.” Handler’s voice freed me from my prison, and I fell still. I couldn’t move a muscle. My jaw felt like it was on fire. Help me.

Handler stepped forward, splashing as she walked through the liquids that still coated the floor. “It doesn’t have to be your fault, Elara.” She dangled something in her hand, but I couldn’t see it clearly from this angle. It came closer and closer to my face, until I could see the object in full.

A muzzle.

“If you put this on, it means that you’re mine, little bird. All your mistakes, all your regrets, and all of you. It would be my fault, doesn’t that sound nice?” She continued to wave the muzzle around. That didn’t make sense. It was my fault. I killed them. My hands. My… paws. Her paws.

It would be her fault, I could hate her all I wanted. “P-puh …” I couldn’t speak. My body was shrieking at me, telling me to stop. This wasn’t the way, shifting blame. I had to carry it. It was mine.

It could be hers.

“Pleasse…” I slurred out the words, reaching my shaking hand up towards the wire cage. She pulled it back, clicking her tongue again. My hand collapsed to the ground, a wet slap sounding out.

Handler looked at me, my pathetic form on her floor, begging for her. “Forgiveness doesn’t come free, Elara. I ask but one last thing from you, Elara. The Commander. The Killer. The Monster. One final task.” She continued playing with the muzzle in her hands. Freedom incarnate. “Twelve. Twelve kills, of my choosing. Agree, and you’re all mine. I’ll never ask you to bloody your hands with the stench of death again. One kill for every pilot you tore to shreds.”

She wanted twelve more. What was twelve more, compared to the enormous ledger I had already? Twelve people. I’d make her happy, by killing them. She’d want me to. I would be hers. All I would have to do is let myself be a monster a little longer. She would forgive me after.

I thought about who those twelve people could be. Stealing away twelve more lives, all to give myself over to the monster who took me away from Pyralis. My life could be snuffed out in an instant, at her lightest command. I was only alive because she wanted me here. Just thinking about the idea of Handler wanting me made me nauseous with need. I needed to think.

“One condition. A promise. I won’t kill Pyralis. Promise me she will never be part of that twelve. That you’ll take every measure possible to keep her alive, no matter what.” I felt some old part of me bubble up, a piece hidden away from the light, still capable of hating Handler. “I’ll slam that knife you gave me into my heart the second she dies.”

Handler nodded, “You have my word, Elara. Raise your head.” She knelt over, holding the muzzle carefully in her grasp.

“Yes Miss.”